Eternal Twilight Dreams

CONTAINS DARK CONTENT 🌙18+ minors DNI🌙 is 21+🌙 Just a sideblog 

[eternaltwilightdreams]

Twilight Dreams

Welcome to my little escape! Feel free to explore this land filled with eternal twilight dreams. 🌙

Tags 

NSFW: #naughty dreams

Trigger warnings: #tw: [trigger]

Fandoms and characters: 🌙.[fandom/character]

Mod rambling: #the moon speaks

Rules 

Please do not interact if you are a minor or dislike dark content. I encourage you block this blog if that is the case. Any and all hate is simply going to result in being blocked because it’s not worth the time and effort.

[saetiate]

vampire!sae with his compulsion ability that he never uses until you ask

[saetiate]

vampire!sae with his compulsion ability that he never uses until you go missing, taken from him by people trying to harm him. he gets liberal with it then, power thrums through his veins as he grips the jaw of the person that had last seen you, demands the deaths of anyone who tries to hide your whereabouts from him. he hasn't had to use it for years, but the slow syrup of his words rings perfectly each time regardless, all the way until he has you in his arms again

[whoreiaki-kakyoin]

The really beautiful thing about Blue Lock men is they’re all so intense in everything. Everything they do, everything they want, and that includes you. You tell them you wanna tear them apart, tell them you’ve been fantasizing about them, tell them you want them so fucking bad you can barely handle it sometimes? Ohhh you just handed them such a beautiful gift, right on a silver platter. You want them as badly as they want you? Your feelings for them run so deep and feel so strong that sometimes they overwhelm you? You think your love is “too intense” and might scare them off? Don’t you worry, baby…. They live and breathe intense. They’re gonna give you all of them.

[damn-i-exist]

Listen to older brother☝️

[aizawashuichi]

the thing is, i feel like sometimes self-shippers don't fully embrace the idea of a character being in love with them. instead, the character looks like they are pretending to be in love, like unwillingly putting on this role on the side, as they continue their own life as their canon self, you know what I mean? you need to be more self-indulgent. you have to disrupt their in-character persona in some way, because love is now present and it alters things and people. someone who is in love with you, as aloof and emotionless as they may seem, will care for you and will change if necessary. they will do things for you that they wouldn't normally do for others or even for themselves, because you are not just a random dude showing up next to them. you are their person.

[saetiate]

meet cute with sae at an airport lounge that is really crowded and the only available spot to sit is across from him and you’ve been wondering why it seems people have been giving him a bit of a wide berth but it’s because he’s itoshi sae. he looks up from under his hat in surprise and also kind of annoyed when you ask to sit across from him but he allows it since you seem polite. keeping to your side of the table, not really talking to him.

it’s so fucking annoying that your phone keeps buzzing though, vibration against the glass table that’s making him have a headache even worse than he already is from the crowd. he’s pretty gruff when he tells you to shut that off. you’re all apologetic when you tell him it’s your ex-boyfriend, who’s clearly being really adamant.

“Just block him.”

“I already blocked him on everything, he’s using my friend’s account.”

“Block them too.”

You inhale deep, exhale. “I’m trying to be an adult and have a proper conversation, since he’s gone to these lengths.”

“And?”

“…He said that he could get a girl prettier and better than me any day, so I should be grateful he’s even here.”

Sae’s got an idea, one that he probably shouldn’t execute. God knows his manager is going to want to kill him, not that it matters. But it’s too hot and too overstimulating in this lounge right now, and having your phone finally stop would be a small blessing at this rate.

He takes his jacket off, pulling on his shirt until the top button loosens. “Take a picture with me.”

Huh? “What?”

“Take a picture with me, post it on your story, and then turn off your phone.”

You blink at him. God, how dense can you be? He almost wants to roll his eyes, instead he just sighs like you’re holding up a queue.

“Give me your phone.”

You oblige, which perhaps in hindsight later on, you might realize that couldve been a dangerous act if it was anyone else. Sae pulls your arm instead, until you’re close enough to feel his body warmth, and then takes your phone and snaps a picture.

You don’t even get to really look at it, he posts it himself and turns your phone off for you, drops it in his own bag.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

“You can have it after takeoff.”

“Excuse me??”

[blxxxp]

Are you having a bad day? Aww I'm sorry, would sitting between two competitive dommes who take turns touching you, each trying to make your brain melt more than the other, make you feel better?

[mintmatcha]

Sweat beads on his skin, forming imperfect drops across his freckled chest. Summer has broken, but he's still hot, radiating enough heat to make you kick the top sheet down and off for your conjoined bodies, but not hot enough you pull away. You rest your head on the soft, relaxed muscle of his chest, listening to how his heart beats in time with yours.

The heat is inside you too- just less physical. Loving him feels like you swallowed a match and let the flame consume, eating at the edges of your insides however it wishes. It stays tame, but if you fed it, if you breathed him in too hard, it'll consume you.

"Izuku?" You gather yourself, swallowing the rising sparks in your chest as you meet his eye. The verdant of his eyelashes looks more vibrant against the deep, thick brown of his irises, " 'Zuku, do you ever wanna get married?"

Izuku smiles with a gooey, sticky tenderness, betrayed by the concerned crumple of his brow.

"Probably not. Maybe one day." He tucks your hair behind your ear with a trailing touch, "If I ever find the right person."

It's suddenly so cold between you, despite nothing changing.

"Oh," you rest your head down again. Your throat burns with disappointment and you swallow, trying to push that feeling physically down. It takes effort to keep the quiver out of your voice, "Yeah, me too. If I ever find the right person."

[mintmatcha]

When they finally do it. Is the knight taking the lead or the nursemaid?

I have this image of our nurse telling him that she shouldn't-- they aren't married, it isnt right-- but she keeps touching him, kissing him....

"It's a sin," you whisper.

"Should I force myself on you then?" he whispers back. "Let the sin be all mine?"

With the softest hands, he guides your back to the wall, then guides you around, so your face is pressed against the stone. You could easily move away at any point, but you stay, breathless, letting him gather your skirts up

"No one can blame you-" he whispers. "It'll be all my fault-"

He mumbles with his belt.

"-my weakness for you-"

You press into his touch, moan ask his cock sinks in. when you whimper. he stops, patting your hair until you confirm you're alright.

[mintmatcha]

btw I think hes HEAVY KISSING your neck the whole time because hes in LOVE with you and even as hes trying to pretend to "take" you hes sooo soft and gentle, rubbing your clit the whole time so he can feel you cum-

[viperify]

AU | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴠᴀᴍᴘɪʀᴇ!ᴛᴏᴍ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

₊˚.☾⋆ Mine, forever.

Short Summary: Strange dreams and memories plague your sleep. You would do nothing rather than to forget about everything that has happened—but Tom has other plans for your shared future.

Warnings: obsessive!Tom, biting, blood drinking, Tom doesn’t know what to make of his feelings, slight misogyny, kidnapping I suppose? Also manipulation through the effect of a vampire’s bite.

A/N: This is my participation for week 2 of @acourtofchaos’ Festival of AUs! Just had to take part with my beloved vampire Tommy. <3 — Repost bc I had to make some slight adjustments. Sorry!!

wordcount: 2,5k

also, this is part two of In His Fangs!

Bruised.

Marked.

Branded.

That’s how you left the forest that night.

But not only that.

Tom Riddle was alive—and it would be a burden for you to carry alone.

—

You expect him to come back—almost wait for it. The first few nights, you don’t get to rest. Tossing and turning, trying methods from old books in your attic. It’s all no help. The memory of him, his scarlet eyes, his sharp fangs dragging over your neck, cold hands roaming over your bare skin—keeps you wide awake for most of the night.

Days and weeks pass. Still, no sign of him. People have stopped talking about Voldemort’s return. Just a rumour. Nonsense someone made up back when all these dead sheep were found.

Just rumours, you repeat to yourself, shaking your head slightly. Right.

That evening, after your shower, you take a look in the mirror, eyes drifting to the letters he’s carved just below your collarbone. They have reduced to scars, small imperfections on your skin. Still very visible, and not something you could cover up—no matter what you tried, nothing worked. They’d always shine through, even if you put five layers of makeup.

You have decided to stick to high-neck shirts from now on.

However, today, when you reach to trace them with your finger, you feel a slight burn—not much, barely there—yet, your hand jerks back at the sensation.

It’s almost been four weeks since you last saw him—which means the next full moon should be right around the corner.

You swallow hard at the realisation.

That same night, when you close the curtains to your bedroom window, you take a look at the moon. It’s an almost perfect circle, shining brighter than usual. So bright, you pull the curtains shut, as to protect yourself from it.

As you do, a flash of red in the distance. So small, you barely even register it.

You look again.

Nothing.

You are tired, drained. Sleep catches up faster than you’d want it to, and mere minutes later you are asleep. One of the deepest sleeps you have had in a while.

For a reason.

You don’t often dream, certainly not lately, as you have hardly slept anyway. Though today, you can’t seem to catch a break. Dreams of your years at Hogwarts, of classes and free periods, of your late-night study sessions in the library. They all have something in common—such a small detail, it’s easily missed if not pointed out.

Tom is in every little scene. Sometimes staring at you from across the courtyard, other times reading a book in the library, just an aisle further.

You never noticed, but now it seems so straightforward.

The quiet, nerdy boy with no family to go home to during holidays, the young, handsome prefect with the prettiest eyes and softest hair had been observing you back in school.

As soon as you connect the dots, still half asleep, these little memories fade into a blur—and the scenery changes.

Darkness.

Creaking wood.

The soft, vanilla scent of lit candles.

Freezing cold hands roaming over your exposed skin—having you shiver.

A sudden, sharp pain on your neck—

You shriek awake, drenched in sweat. Looking around you, you are met with nothing except for darkness and silence.

Just a dream.

He won’t come back.

Never.

Right?

Though you have slept for at least eight hours that night, you feel more exhausted than before you went to bed when you wake up in the morning.

Getting out of bed is hard, your neck stiff and sore. But work is waiting, and these days you can’t allow yourself to call in sick. They’ll replace you on the spot if you even only attempt to. You sigh. It’s messed up, but that’s how it is. And you need this job and the money if you don’t want to end up without a roof over your head—urgently.

You carry yourself over to your bathroom, applying toothpaste to your toothbrush before you start cleaning in circular motions. When you look up at your reflection in the mirror, you gasp—toothbrush falling into the marble sink.

There are massive bags under your eyes, cheeks sunken in, eyes glassy. You look horrible—so sick you have no business going outside, let alone working.

But weirdly enough, you don’t feel how you look.

You are just fine—yes, your neck could be better, and you are just a tiny bit dizzy—but that could as well be the result of your recent sleep deprivation—or the fact you are constantly worrying about everything.

Heading to your workplace, you notice people staring, whispering to each other as you pass. You try to ignore them as best as you can, releasing a deep sigh as soon as the entrance door to the little coffee shop you work at closes behind you, the one just around the corner from the Three Broomsticks with barely any customers.

You prepare for your shift, and as expected, it’s slow. Barely served two customers before lunch. Just as you are about to close the shop for break, a man enters. Tall, dressed in all black, face almost unrecognizable as it’s hidden behind a hat, scarf and coat.

Weird, it’s summer.

“We are about to close,” you apologize with a soft smile.

He gets seated nonetheless.

Internally, you want to tell him to leave. Drag him out by his hair if you have to. You are tired, exhausted—but also not in the mood to argue with someone who might just quickly drink a coffee and then leave. Especially when you need every customer you can get anyway.

So you serve him his order.

He doesn’t talk much, yet you feel his gaze burning through you, almost uncomfortably so. You think you know his eyes from somewhere—but you can’t exactly recall from where.

“You look sick. Are you doing quite alright, sweetheart?” He asks, stirring his coffee. Eyes meeting yours as you don’t immediately find an answer.

The voice.

You could swear—

His hand briefly brushes against yours as you clean spilled water from the table, and you flinch at the sensation. They are freezing cold.

“I am— fine.” You reassure, though startled.

He doesn’t speak again after that, and five minutes later, he’s gone. Left a tip, though.

With a note.

“Looking forward to seeing you again.”

You throw it away when you get home.

That night, it’s the same ordeal. Scars burning more than the day before, moon completing a full circle. Dreams of your past, each of them featuring Tom, as though you can’t escape him. Then, memories of that one night in the hut. Clearer this time. How he touched you, where he touched you. How he marked and branded you as his.

Again, you manage to tear yourself from the dream, waking up. Hair stuck to your damp forehead as you turn on the light, checking if there is anyone.

Nobody.

Just as you are about to go back to sleep, you spot a note on your bedside table.

“Come and find me, sweet girl.

Tomorrow, 20:00. I will be there.

If you don’t—as you see, I know where to find you.

And remember, I don’t appreciate disobedience.”

You quickly scrunch the paper, throwing it across the room. You wish he’d just finished the job last time. Like he did with the animals.

Why didn’t he?

—

It’s not that you want to go back, no. But you would rather have it happen in the forest than in your own sacred four walls. Again, you ask yourself—why you? Why not someone else?

Tom is already waiting when you enter the wooden cabin, deep in the heart of the Forbidden Forest.

“I knew you would come if I called for you.” He drawls, stalking towards you.

You scoff. “Did I have a choice?”

A grin tugs at the corner of his lips. “Of course not.”

His eyes scan your body as though he wants to imprint every detail in his mind.

Even more beautiful than last time he saw you, Tom thinks. So pretty when you are scared, shivering. When your heart rate is twice as high as normal—pumping his favourite blood through your veins.

That’s what he’s been waiting for ever since you left.

Tom has done research in the meantime. Gone to several healers he knew he could trust—mostly those closely related to the Malfoys and Rosiers—where he assumed the secret of his return would be safe.

They told him what he had already suspected.

His death broke the curse of the Love Potion his mother had used to seduce his father. And suddenly, when he chose to return as a vampire, all these pent-up feelings he was never able to experience broke free.

He’d always seen you as someone special. An intelligent girl back at Hogwarts, someone that could challenge him—it intrigued him. He observed you, without you ever noticing. But Tom never knew what to make of this strange pull he had towards you.

Until he saw you wandering the street, smelled the scent of you and your blood from a mile away. All these emotions came crashing down onto him, and he realised what it was that interested him about you.

But even now, that he is able to feel—he doesn’t yet know how to love.

So it has turned into obsession instead.

An unknown feeling spread in his chest whenever he saw you from afar. Something that made him crave you, your touch, your affection. He didn’t like it. It made him vulnerable. You made him feel like that. And Merlin, he wanted to punish you for it.

So he lured you into the forest that night. Took everything from you.

He needed you to want him back. But it didn’t happen. So, instead, he made sure you would be his either way.

His initials carved into your skin a constant reminder of who you really belonged to.

“You did that, didn’t you?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. “The dreams, the note. The man at my work. It was all you.”

He nods, face mere inches from yours.

“Why?” You ask again, more silently this time. Voice barely above a whisper.

His hand tilts your head upwards so you are forced to look into his eyes, his thumb wiping over your trembling lips.

“You are so beautiful.” He whispers after what feels like an eternity. Completely disregarding your question. Your heart sinks.

You shake your head. “Answer me.”

His hand trails down your neck, barely touching, slipping beneath the fabric of your sweater—pausing briefly as he feels his initials on your skin.

“You are mine. I usually keep my eyes on my belongings.”

The next sentence slips faster from your lips than what you would have wanted it to.

“You shouldn’t walk around in Hogsmeade. What if— people recognize you?”

His eyes, once focused on where his hand rests beneath your top, snap up to meet yours, a subtle grin forming on his lips.

“Since when do you care? It was you who got me killed, after all.”

You’d expect him to be angry with you—but it’s the opposite, really. His head dips, placing a single, feather-light kiss to your jaw.

“I am sure you’d do nothing rather than go running to your pathetic Aurors at the Ministry and report the rumours are true, no?”

Tom doesn’t wait for a response—instead, he starts trailing kisses down your neck, directly along your vein.

A shiver runs down your spine. You shake your head.

“No— no, I don’t.”

“Mmmh,” he mumbles, his fangs scraping against the sensitive skin of your neck. “Not convinced.”

“Please, I—“

“Shh.” He shushes you, tilting your head to grant him better access to your neck. “Just be still, and I won’t hurt you.”

You nod slowly, a single tear falling down your cheek. You just want this to be over.

Before you even get to process his next move, his teeth sink deep into your flesh, drawing the first drops of blood, pinning you against the wooden panels of the wall. It burns at first—until a warm, pleasurable sensation spreads throughout your body. Your breathing and heart rate slow, and you relax against the wall.

It’s quick, less painful than last time. You try to endure. Not fight back.

It’s hard.

Each time he praises you, or even makes the tiniest sound as he feeds from your neck, you have to hold back a sob.

By the time he’s done, you are more than dizzy. A headache forming. Blood staining your neck, your sweater. Legs trembling.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hands before he presses a kiss to your lips.

“Taste that? How delicious you are? And you really think I would ever let you go.”

You barely register his words as your knees give in, and you sink down on the floor, vision blurring, ears ringing.

The next thing you remember is waking up the morning after. Not in your own bed. The mattress is harder, pillow thicker than your own. Your neck hurts—and not just because of the pillow.

You try sitting up, lift your head—and immediately lie back down. It hurt too badly.

“There she is. Good girl.” An all-too-familiar voice drawls from beside you, and as you turn your head, you see him, for the first time since he came back in daylight.

He is still as handsome as he was back at Hogwarts—though even paler, if that was possible. Still the same beautiful brown eyes. Sharp jawline. Pointy cheekbones. Broad shoulders. A dream, if he wasn’t what he is. If he didn’t do to you what he did.

“Let me go, please. I promise I won’t tell anyone. I can come back, I will—“ you sob. “I will give you anything you want. I promise.”

He merely laughs.

“Seems as though you still haven’t understood. You are mine. From the second I touched you, you have been mine. No man will want you now that I have had you.” Tom says, as if it were the most normal thing in the world, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Instead, you will be with me.”

You try to find your voice to object, to tell him to forget it. He is the last man you would—

He kisses you instead. Softly. Slowly. And for whatever reason, you don’t protest—let him kiss you—even part your lips to grant him entrance.

Tom turns to look back at you when he gets up to leave—grinning. He is so close to getting you where he wants you. Just a few bites more and he would have you following his orders, make you like him back. And then, at some point, in a few years, maybe—

“One day, I am going to turn you,” he murmurs. “Make you mine, forever.”

thank you for reading! feel free to reblog and leave feedback <3 — masterlist. | AUs.

©2025 viperify. please do not copy, translate or claim my work as your own.

[niisancomplex]

Mahiru, who can see red threads, realizes that his sister's red thread is not connected to his, so he cuts each other's red threads and forcibly reties them.

[blossomfully]

“If I could have done it all again, I would have loved you better. But I could not have loved you more.”

— Sue Zhao // “I loved you in all the ways that I could”

[seravphs]

battle of wills

Sae wants to act funny, but he doesn’t know you’re about to act hilarious.

wc — 2.7k

tags — romantic mind games, thinking of Sae like a predator that plays with his food, jealousy, possessiveness

“I don’t care who you fuck,” he says with a shrug. “We’re not dating.” 

Your hands still on the collar of his shirt that you’re smoothing down. It’s ten minutes before your dinner reservation, which means you’re going to be late, but you know the maître d' so it should be fine. It would be, if Sae didn’t insist on opening his fat mouth once a week to try to break your heart so he can prove to himself that he’s not invested. 

He’s not fooling anyone. You know you have him, hook, line, and sinker. When you made that joke about getting Kaiser’s number, it was just a joke. You didn’t even say you wanted to sleep with him! Sae came up with that implication all by himself. 

You have three options and only a few seconds to decide. Sweat beads on your forehead. You can practically see the timer run out, like an imaginary game with a big fat red buzzer letting you know you failed.

You can: 

a) say “we’re not dating?” in a whiny little broken voice and make it obvious you liked Sae more than he liked you 

b) sit in silence and make it awkward like you are currently doing 

c) fuck around and find out

So you only have one option, really. You’re not a coward, so it can’t be b, and you’d rather choke on your fancy steak tonight and die then ever let a man think he played you and got away with it. 

“Cool,” you say. “I’ll let Kaiser know he has your permission.” 

You’re joking, but you don’t think he is. 

“Cool,” Sae replies, but he’s so disinterested that you think he didn’t even hear the last half of your sentence. 

Dinner is great even though Sae is an asshole because he somehow still makes it fun to be with him. Your friends all ask you why you want him. They don’t see what you see; they think you’re just after the football fame, the fortune, the model like beauty. 

You’re a little more twisted than that. 

When you press your patent heel up against Sae’s calf, he doesn’t even flinch. He takes a long, slow draught of water - because he doesn’t drink alcohol, which is deliriously sexy to you for some reason - and raises an eyebrow at you. Everything about him is cool and collected, even when you inch higher and higher until you’re practically right between his legs. 

His hand slips under the table, grabs your ankle, and repositions it on his lap. He doesn’t spare a thought for how your dirty shoes are on his nice slacks. When you try to retract your foot because this is dangerous, this is not what you expected, his hand locks you in place. 

He holds your eye across the table. You wanted this, his eye contact says. Be good and take it. 

Sae is hard to read. 

He can be so apathetic, so indifferent to your words, and then draw warm, lazy circles on your pulse with his thumb. He looks mildly amused when your brain short circuits in the middle of your sentence, every neuron redirected to the feeling of his hand on your ankle, soaking in heat from his palm. 

You want to pull him apart and see what makes him tick. For you, love is almost like dissection. You want to be able to know him so intimately no one else will ever be able to say they come close. 

Although he apparently doesn’t feel the same about you. 

Knowing Sae is a rare privilege all in itself. You thought you were content. When you first met him, that’s all it was: fun. You liked pulling him apart and putting him back together, figuring out which parts of Sae were real and which were a front. But now, after a few months, you’re hooked. It’s become more than a game. It’s an addiction. 

The more he rejects you, the more you want him. 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this pathetic in your life. You’ve never chased anyone the way you’ve done for him. 

It’s killing you to think about the numbers he’s done on your reputation. Your friends already think you’re whipped. 

You’re afraid to admit they’re right, and that’s the real reason you’re upset about what he said earlier. You never thought you were dating but you thought - 

Ugh. You don’t know why you expected him to care. 

Sae is, if an asshole, also a gentleman, so he pays for dinner and sends you home in an Uber on his card. 

You smile pleasantly until you get into the car and then you’re practically tearing your hair out. You need to make him regret this. 

So obviously the question now is who would make Sae the sickest to find out you got with? Who would have that man holding his stomach in tears? 

Shidou is too obvious and also you doubt that Sae would care. In a funny way, Shidou is the least you can do to him. 

Oliver? No, he’s too much of a slut. This needs to be a hit and run, an attack, but targeted. Aiku is just too easy to make Sae feel anything besides mild annoyance that you fucked his captain. 

You’d have to butter Kaiser up before you even got near him, and besides, Sae didn’t even react when you brought him up earlier. 

Your brain flinches away from Rin’s face when it pops up in your brain like you touched a hot stove, a solid rejection you don’t even have to think about. 

No. 

It hurts too much. You’re angry but you still care about Sae. This is- 

You want to piss him off, not hurt him irrevocably. Dating Rin right after not-dating him would be something the two of you couldn’t come back from. 

Even if Sae likes to pretend he’s not sensitive when it comes to his little brother, you know better. 

Back to the drawing board. 

The most important part is that Sae can’t know you’re trying to make him jealous, so it has to come up organically. You’re aiming for a teammate because you need someone who will talk about it in Sae’s locker room, someone who can get it to Sae without making it too obvious. 

All paths lead to Oliver Aiku. 

Unfortunately. 

You don’t even know if this is going to work. 

“Just so you know,” you tell him, “you weren’t my first choice.”

“Aw, why?” He asks. “You don’t think I’ll get Sae mad enough?” 

“Are you kidding me? If anything, he’s going to think I’ve lowered my standards! He’s not going to regret losing me, he’s going to think that I’m so pathetic his little rejection sent me off the deep end!” 

“But then he’ll be right,” Oliver says. “Considering he did lower your standards and send you off the deep end. You’re standing in my living room right now, aren’t you?” 

You squint at him. “And I can walk right back out, so don’t test me.” 

“Don’t be like that,” Oliver purrs. “I’m great at making men jealous.” 

“I’m not sure that’s something to be proud of.” 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I’m going to take you somewhere your man couldn’t even dream of taking you.” 

“Oliver, this is a Wendy’s.” 

“Sae would never dream of taking you here,” he shrugs. “Wow, good bite! You’re great at eating.” 

“Okay, one, that’s a weird thing to say, and two, I’m going to go find someone else if you can’t help me. I know you can’t help yourself but since I’m your friend, I thought at the very least, you would try not to waste my time.” 

“Yeesh, calm down-“ 

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” 

“My bad,” he says cheerfully. “Trust me, I have a plan.” 

“I don’t trust you,” you say pointedly, narrowing your eyes at him. 

He ignores you. “What makes a man angrier than thinking you moved on?” 

“Moving on with his rival?” 

“Close. Thinking he never had you. See, Sae takes you on these fancy dates to high end restaurants and museums and what not. But you know how he is. He’s with you but he’s not really with you. You gotta beat him at his own game. Let him think that you were just indulging him when really this is what you want.” He scoots his chair closer to you until you can practically feel the warmth of him radiating through his thin shirt. His cologne smells like jasmine, a strangely delicate scent for him. “Make him feel like he never really knew you, because I’m the one who does.” 

You breathe in the scent of his feminine cologne, stalling. It would be so easy to listen to Oliver. It would be so easy to let him in your heart. He knows what to say and when to say it. 

In a way, he does know you. 

Familiarity is unavoidable with time, and you’ve been friends of circumstance for ages. 

“You just wanted an excuse to take me to Wendy’s,” you say with a fake laugh that is so perfected, you can only pick up the stilted quality of it if you really, really listen. 

He pulls out of your space a little, a smile playing on his lips. “You know me so well. That too.” 

Oliver knows you a little too well. He says the right things at the right times because he’s telling you what you want to hear. 

Are you destined to be toyed with by beautiful football players? 

In the car on the way back to your house, Oliver texts you. “Get him back for me, playa.”  

In the locker room, Oliver doesn’t start the conversation because that would be too obvious. He’s a respectful man, he doesn’t kiss and tell. It would be out of character for him to start bringing up last night’s exploits and Sae would catch on instantaneously. 

He waits until Sendou, not subtly, tries to ask him who that pretty girl he posted last night was. 

“Are you sure that was a girl? Aiku never posts who he’s with. It was probably his sister.” 

Oliver doesn’t see who said that, but he doesn’t take offense. Again, he doesn’t kiss and tell. Whoever he’s with is a secret. 

He lets them simmer for a little bit more before he casually drops your name, saying it was just a friendly meal. Out of the corner of his eye, Sae stops putting on his shirt. 

“I’ll say,” Sendou says. “You took her to Wendy’s? That’s foul even for you.” 

“Maybe she likes Wendy’s,” Aiku says. “You don’t know her.” 

Although that last part isn’t really directed at Sendou. 

It’s rare for Sae to willingly open social media, but here he is, scrolling through Oliver’s story. Your face is never in any of the pictures, but he can tell. You’re- 

His brain stutters to a halt. 

You’re wearing the necklace he bought you on a date with another man.

There’s only one picture left in Oliver’s stories from last night, but of course that demon would’ve saved the best for last. It’s a simple shot. You’re sitting outside somewhere, under the stars. His hand is holding yours from across the table, your arm stretched out towards him. It’s the only one with a sliver of your face in it, the edge of a sweet, tender smile. 

Sae doesn’t fight. He’s not the type. But over you? 

He fights the only way he knows how. Through football. 

When Sae calls you after practice, you fumble your phone so hard it drops out of your hands and into the sink. You had fun with Oliver last night, but deep down, you didn’t really think Sae would care, as much as you wanted him to. It’s just the way he is. 

By the time you fish your phone out, it’s making strange noises and unable to return Sae’s call. You don’t feel like going out today after your wild night - crying onto Aiku’s shoulder through mouthfuls of French fries - so you resolve to pick a new one up tomorrow. 

Sae will wait. He’s very patient. 

Sae shows up on your doorstep within thirty minutes of your denied call. He lives twenty minutes away, if he speeds. 

Now he’s sitting in your living room, drinking water from your favorite mug while you squirm uncomfortably. He, on the other hand, seems content to sit in silence. 

“You hung out with Aiku last night,” he says. 

Now that he’s actually in the room, you feel like you did something wrong. It’s insane how much influence Sae has over you. He hurt you, but retaliation somehow feels like getting caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

“Yes,” you mumble. 

“Hm? Speak up.” 

“So what if I did?” 

Sae raises an eyebrow. “Nothing. I don’t mind who you hang out with.” 

“Fine,” you say. “Guess I’ll hang out with him again. Since you don’t care.” 

His mouth curls into a smile behind his mug. That motherfucker. It’s ticking you off. He’s so in control of himself, so smug and pleased and - 

“Do you want to be my girlfriend?” 

“You know, since you care so much- huh?” 

“Do you want to start dating?” He rephrases patiently. 

You stammer for a bit before you’re able to reply coherently. “I thought you didn’t want to.” 

“Did I say that?” 

“Yes,” you hiss. “You made it very clear.” 

“I don’t remember saying that,” he says and sets his mug down. When he stands, terror rises in you. He’s coming over. He’s sitting back on his haunches in front of you on the couch, eye to eye. “I just said that we weren’t dating. But I’d like to.” 

“You only want me because I was with another man,” you say faintly. You’re trying to act cute, playful, but you’re not sure it’s working. There’s not enough blood going to your brain. 

“You want me to beg, don’t you?” 

You can’t deny how excited that makes you. Part of it is the way he says it, his voice slow and measured, deepening near the end. Part of it is just hearing ‘beg’ come out of Sae’s mouth. 

“Okay, then. You don’t like Wendy’s.” 

God, you hate men. Who cares about Wendy’s? Why do they always argue about this? Oliver and Sae both-

“You like the places we go. You like,” he tugs lightly on your necklace in a way that stops just shy of stinging. “The way I spoil you.” He pushes you back onto the couch and leans over you. “You like the way I know,” his nose brushes over the carotid artery in your neck, “what makes you feel good.” 

“So I can beg if you want me to.” He’s all in your space, filling it up. All you can smell and feel and see is Sae. You feel paralyzed by his eyes. Devoured whole. “I can get on my knees for you and let you put a leash around my neck and promise that you can have anything you want from me. But let’s not pretend that you want anyone else but me.” 

Okay. So maybe you do care about Wendy’s. 

“Aiku thinks he knows you,” Sae says, his voice calm and easy. It’s like he’s laying out a mathematical formula instead of confessing his love, but it’s so Sae. “He doesn’t. I know you.” 

You whimper. 

Sae laughs dryly. 

You don’t sleep in your own bed that night. Sae drives you both back to his apartment, insists on brushing your teeth for you with the toothbrush he bought for you, and does your skincare routine before he tucks you into bed. 

You’re half asleep when he says, “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?” 

“Huh?” You mumble, facedown in his pillow. It smells like him. 

Sae leans over so he can kiss your forehead. When he whispers, it’s directly in your ear. “You think you tied me down, huh?” 

You’re wide awake now. “Obviously,” you snap back, annoyed that he’s still trying to play these games. You know he’s not indifferent to you, you just wish he would- 

“No, dear,” Sae says. The pet name sends chills down your spine. “I trapped you.” 

[princess-okkotsu2]

The image in my mind of being all covered in hickeys and playing a switch game in the bathtub while your brotherhusband who just fucked u within an inch of your life is right outside the tub sweetly chatting with u and detangling your hair for u

[heich0e]

nai loses himself a bit when he's kissing you, a little too rough and too deep and too overwhelming, but despite your pleas of "nai... nai—" to get him to slow down, it only makes him kiss you deeper because hearing you call his name so sweetly makes something inside him snap

[stabbeddoll]

[suguwu]

OKAY NO PRESSURE BUT JUST KNOW EVERY DAY I LOVE YOU WRITING SUICIDAL READER AND SAE 💗 I think about the sea scene you wrote all the time. I would love any tidbits you share and even if you wrote nothing more I am still thankful you wrote it and posted it for all to see!

wahh thank you anon this is so sweet of you! that concept is near and dear to my heart, even if i never expand on it more.

i do think sae walks by your house, sometimes, looking for that golden spill of light out the windows, nectar-sweet. he never slows; he never knocks. he just walks by, tasting the sea salt in the air.

he sees you in the supermarket once, a few months later. you're sorting through peaches, your fingers careful against the fuzz of them. you look tired. he glances away, and when he looks back to you, you've disappeared, a ghost of a thing.

he goes to the bay. it's getting warmer; there are more people on the shore, children shouting and chasing the seagulls, popsicle juice coloring their sticky lips.

he walks along the shore, his shoes in his hand, his pants rolled up. the sand is wet; it gives beneath his weight, so that he sinks down into it. the people start to dwindle.

he's looking to the horizon when he sees it. there's someone on the rocky outcrop, gazing out to the sea. he turns, but they're too fuzzy to make out, a desert mirage.

he walks faster.

they're just starting to come into focus when the laughter reaches him, soft and golden and sweet.

(he doesn't think you can laugh like that.)

he pauses. there's two people, he realizes, one sitting with their back against the standing person's knees. they're laughing together as the bay sprays them with saltwater.

sae turns around and goes home.