#I CLOSED MY EYES INSIDE YOUR DARKNESS. AND FOUND YOUR GLOW.

[hesperisms]

hello! can i request zayne with reader who shows up at his doorstep really badly injured and just passes out against him when he opens the door?

i really love how you write zayne in your fics and i've been thinking about this idea for awhile..

// Safe Haven

"You're not fighting alone this time..."

// summary: your assignment was taking a turn for the worse and out of desperation and panic, you turned to the one person you know will always be there for you...

// content warnings: injuries, blood, angst, fluff. IT'S SOFT BOI HOURS, OKAY?

// a/n: hope I did your idea justice anon! something about the idea of seeing Zayne's all possessive and protective makes my chest ache!

likes, reblogs, comments are always appreciated!

Zayne couldn't place his finger on the feeling, but something had him full of restless energy despite the late hour. He'd decided the only course of action was to burn it off, so he put on his sweats and headed out into his quiet leafy suburb for a late night jog. He used it as an opportunity to clear his thoughts and mentally debrief himself about the surgery he had completed earlier, about his to-do lists and then his thoughts drifted as they always do, to you.

He hadn't heard from you for a few hours, which wasn't unusual for you two, but he couldn't help but feel a pang of longing that he hadn't seen a goodnight text or voice note from you, hoping that it meant maybe you had conked out on the couch and were getting some rest. As he walked the last block back towards his house, relaxing on his cooldown he takes a photo of the full moon in the sky and sends it over to you along with a "the moon looks beautiful tonight" note.

DING.

Zayne approaches his driveway and your notification sound rings out, echoing in the silent night. He shakes his head, a smile touching the corner of his lips as he realizes you're nearby but his brow knits in confusion when he doesn't see your ride parked nearby. She probably got dropped off by Tara or that partner Xavier, he thinks to himself with a shrug. The cool night air was trapping the sweat in against his compression shirt, making him shiver as he walked up the steps to his front door. Something was off, he realized suddenly; one of his ambient security lights that normally cast a soft glow up his front steps was dimmed and bent at an odd angle, like something had fallen on it.

He leans over, attempting to make out in the dark what landed on top of it to break it when he hears it again and sees the flash.

DING.

Blood turns to ice in his veins as your notification tone sounds from beside the broken garden lighting, the flash of your phone camera strobing in the darkness for a split second in tandem with the sound. Delicately picking up your phone in his left hand, his heart catches in his chest as he sees bloody fingerprints on the screen. Zayne's mind surges with all sorts of worst-case fears as his eyes desperately scan the yard for any sign of you, but you're nowhere to be found.

Wary now and knowing you're hurt, he carefully calls forth shards of ice to his fingertips of his right hand, holding them tensely, ready to jump to action if he needs to defend himself too. Punching in the code for his electronic front door lock, he lets the door swing open as he steps inside cautiously, but nothing seems to be out of the ordinary inside. Zayne moves room to room silently looking for anything out of place, any sign of you, without success.

He's just about to shut the front door and start making calls to your boss Jenna and emergency services when your hand slams against the closing door, jolting him as he stares at you. "Zayne..." you squeak out, using all your strength to prop yourself up on his doorframe.

"I'm so gla-" you don't even get a chance to finish before your body is in freefall towards him and his eyes widen in panic, the phone and the ice shards both clattering loudly on the entryway tiles as he scrambles to catch you before you hit the floor. "My hero..." you joke weakly, face pallid as you slip out of consciousness in his arms.

Cradling you gently, kneeling on the cold tiles beside you his combat medic instinct overtakes his fears and he begins to perform some cursory checks, noting how pale your lips are, how shallow your breathing is, and that's when he sees it; your right arm is dangling limply, seemingly dislocated from the socket and the sleeve has been ripped to shreds, your bicep showing a deep, angry wound. You've lost a lot of blood and you're in shock, so Zayne knows he needs to act swiftly.

"I'm so sorry, this is not going to be enjoyable for either of us." he murmurs to your unconscious body gently as he takes hold of your dislocated shoulder, feeling for the socket before firmly and skillfully setting it back into place. You cry out a whimper of pain as it temporarily wakes you and he brushes your hair away from your forehead with a bloody hand, stroking the backs of his fingers tenderly across your brow with a trembling touch. "Shhhh my love, I'm sorry, I know it hurt but I had no choice, it couldn't stay that way, you're okay, I've got you. You're okay."

Your eyes are glassy and unfocused, but you look up at him like he's an angel, the ceiling down light cascading around his dark hair above you like a halo; that handsome face stroking your brow lovingly with gentle sweeps, trying so hard to hide from you how scared he is as he smiles down at you trying to reassure you both with his soft whispers. As your eyes begin to flutter shut again and unconsciousness swallows you, you see him pulling his compression shirt off up over his head, his bare chest sucking in deep shuddering breaths that betray his smile and measured tone.

Zayne ties a sleeve of the compression shirt around your bicep wound like a tourniquet and loops the other sleeve around your neck, creating a very crude home made sling for your badly damaged arm. If he thought he had more time, he'd run to the bathroom for medical supplies but you were too pale and he was terrified to let you out of his sight so he made do as best he could. Swallowing down all sorts of insidious memories and fears from his time on the front lines, he works to stabilize you so that you'll be safe to move.

Grabbing the throw blanket off the couch and draping it over you, he scoops you up into his arms, pressing you tightly into his body as he carries you to his car, delicately lowering you into the passenger side and locking the seatbelt over you. You flit in and out of consciousness under the bright streetlights as he drives you to Akso Hospital, the steady weight of his large hand cradled behind your head, pressing and stroking tenderly on the nape of your neck the only constant feeling other than pain.

"Dr. Zayne, didn't you finish a couple of hours ago? Did you forget something in your office?" The tired but friendly voice of Dr. Greyson rings out over the car's Bluetooth speakers as Zayne's call to the nurses station connects. "Go cuddle with your Lady paperwork can wait!" Yvonne laughs in the background and Zayne realizes he's on speakerphone.

"I'm just about to hit the exit ramp. I'm 2 minutes away, prep a bay in Emergency Greyson...it's y/n." Zayne says with a harsher, colder tone than he intended, fear for your wellbeing getting the better of him.

Silence hangs on the line for a moment before someone sniffs awkwardly and a cacophony of chairs scraping and shuffling flares to life as the nurses scramble.

"How bad?" Comes the soft reply and Zayne can hear the concern in his colleague and friend's tone.

Zayne squeezes the nape of your neck reassuringly, but whether it's to reassure you or himself, he can't tell; "she's lost a lot of blood, it's hard to say. I have her stable but we don't have much time," he responds, his voice breaking slightly.

"We'll be waiting for you at the front doors." Greyson says confidently as he disconnects the call. Zayne's golden-green gaze flits across to your lips, checking on your shallow breathing as he pulls his car into the ambulance bay. Just as promised, Greyson, Yvonne and the other nurses pull up a stretcher to the passenger side of the car and open the door, looking across from you to Zayne and giving him a solemn nod.

Zayne gives your neck one last squeeze and lets them take you from the car, watching critically as they lift you gently onto the stretcher and rush you into the waiting Emergency bay. He shivers as the shock starts to wear off and the cold silence of the middle of the night settles in. Looking down at himself, realizing that he's half-naked and covered in smears of your blood, he grabs his coat out of the back of his car and jogs in after them.

He's about to follow them into the Emergency bay when Greyson puts a firm hand on his shoulder and shakes his head. "Are you trying to come in as her Doctor, because you don't trust us to work on her, or her lover because you need to know she's okay?" He asks pointedly.

Zayne snarls out a frustrated sigh, but Greyson continues.

"The code of conduct is there for her interests as the patient, you know that. I'll call you in as soon as we're done. You look like hell, go clean yourself up."

Zayne nods his resignation with a scowl, knowing Greyson was right. He wasn't happy to be called out on it, but Zayne couldn't maintain his objectiveness and professionalism, not when you were involved. The Akso Hospital board might turn a blind eye to him being your General Practitioner while dating you, but they would not stand for him being part of a surgical team.

He showered in the Doctor's suites and grabbed a spare shirt from his office before settling into the visitor's seating in the hallway outside Emergency. Zayne was lying back in the armchair, his head tilted back as he rubbed slow circles on his temples when Greyson finally come out to get him a couple of hours later.

"She's got a fractured humerus and she needed almost a litre of blood, but she's out of the woods now. Pulse is strong again, color has returned and we've stitched up the wound in her bicep. She's asking for you." Greyson said with a smile, giving Zayne a pat on the shoulder as he walked off towards the Doctor's suites.

"She's awake?"

He calls back over his shoulder with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Go to your woman, Zayne!"

Zayne slips in through the door to see the nurses packing up the crash cart and various other Emergency supplies and they give him a knowing smile as they make way for him. Yvonne hands him the pillow she was about to put behind your head and says with a smile "we should leave you two lovebirds alone, you've been through a lot tonight."

"You look..." Zayne begins, pushing the pillow in behind your head.

"Terrible?"

"A sight for sore eyes. For a minute there I was scared I was going to lose you."

You chuckled weakly, color rising in your cheeks. "You aren't getting rid of me that easily, Handsome." You reached for his hand, wincing as your stitches pulled and Zayne slipped his hand over yours, gently snuggling himself onto the bed beside you. "I don't know what would've happened if you weren't there..." you began, emotions spilling over and you choke back a sob. He presses you into his chest, hushing you and peppering kisses into your hair.

"Don't think about it Darling, don't upset yourself with what ifs and scenarios." He murmured. "I was there, you're safe now. I've got you and that's all that matters."

As he let you cry softly against his warm chest, he rubbed slow circles on your back, squeezing you tightly, pecking little soothing kisses onto your head. Zayne gently brushed your tears from your cheeks, gazing down at you lovingly, the pad of his thumb feeling so comforting as you stared up at him.

Zayne released you and reached over to read your chart, his brows knitting and his eyes narrowing as he scans through your status and treatment observations. Giving you a gentle peck on the cheek, he tells you he'll be right back and slips from the room.

He's gone for a few minutes and when the door to your room opens, he's carrying the powder blue baby blanket you bought him when he was struggling with nightmares and sitting on top of the bundle were a couple of his always on hand mint candies. Climbing back onto the bed beside you, pulling you onto his chest so he can support your wounded arm he spreads the blanket out over the two of you.

Zayne unwraps a mint candy and holds it out for you.

"Open." He commands gently and you part your lips to let him pop it into your mouth, before he takes the other one himself, tossing the wrappers into the little trashcan beside your bed. "They're keeping you in for observation overnight, so lets do our best to get a good night of sleep, my love." Zayne explains to you in a soft, whispered tone, pulling your head down to rest underneath his chin. As you both chew your candies and cuddle into each other's warmth, he strokes your hair until after a few minutes he feels your breathing settle and you relax, falling asleep against him.

The door opens with a soft click, Greyson poking his head in silently to check on you before he ends his shift, changed out of his scrubs and now in his casual wear. He gives Zayne a small nod and Zayne nods back at him solemnly in thanks, the two men exchanging a whole conversation unspoken in their gestures. The whole time Zayne is squeezing his arm tightly around you, cradling you to his chest as you sleep, his heartbeat lulling you into gentle dreams.

[svgurugeto]

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄.  It was a bold move —-- and perhaps quite idiotic, looking back on it.  The exorcist was incredibly private about his hideouts; the higher-ups at the Vatican didn’t even know where he lived, despite their endless poking and prodding.  Suguru needed that boundary in place —-- it was his way of escaping the horrors of this world.  Not to mention his way of avoiding any further harassment to take on more than he already was.

But offering up an invitation into his private dwellings was equivalent to extending something much like an olive branch.  Suguru was placing a lot of trust in Satoru —--- but also, and perhaps more than that outward display of trust, the exorcist wanted him to know that he hadn’t meant any harm.  He hadn’t meant to pry —-- to see what he had seen, which he knew right away was something Satoru thought to be a weakness; a vulnerability.

While Suguru knew some of the myths around Satoru’s abilities, he wasn’t fully proficient —-- even the strongest Hunters didn’t have a full grasp of the way power scaled within that underground world.  Those that prided themselves in their understanding of the supernatural only knew as much as their subjects allowed them to know.  That, or they died in pursuit of such forbidden fruit —- chronicled only by those that had accompanied them, or the notes they had scribbled down in their journals mere seconds before their untimely demise.

The exorcist knew about Satoru’s long-distance teleportation abilities, sure —--- but he didn’t know about the wings.

For a moment, Suguru thought he had hallucinated them… those dark shadows stretching across the sidewalk and pavement alike, cast by the flickering street lamp to his left.  In the blink of an eye, they were gone —-- along with their surroundings; once a reflection of Roppongi, only to be replaced by a glowing FamilyMart sign.

Suguru thought he was going to throw up.  Motion sickness took its toll as he attempted to breathe... in through his nose, out through his mouth. What a fucking night this was. The warping of time and space left him dizzy, the sensation of the world beneath his feet almost entirely foreign.  His legs were shaky, though Suguru was determined to not crumble to his knees again  ( once was more than enough. )  His position in front of the convenience store kept triggering the motion sensors —---- automatic doors opening and closing, over and over again; even after Satoru stepped inside to gather his choice of snacks.

Suguru waved a dismissive hand as Satoru asked if he wanted anything.  He had half the heart to ask for dramamine, but ultimately thought better of it.

A slow walk back the rest of the way was much appreciated —-- Suguru still working off what remained of his wobbly sea legs and all.  He slid his hands into his pockets and made every effort to enjoy the cool night air.  It was much quieter here —-- and, subsequently, much easier for him to breathe.

❝ Gojo-sama?  Your nest must adore you, ❞  Suguru replied with a slight rolling of the eyes, though he found humor in the honorific the vampire had so breezily tacked on. ❝ Satoru… ❞  he let the weight of that name resonate in the air a little, a comfortable silence growing between them.  ❝ I've always thought your name was a beautiful one.  Plays nicely with your nature —-- how curious you are, and all. ❞  Suguru cast the other a smile, craning his neck a bit in the process.  ❝ I’d much rather address you by your given name.  If you don’t mind. ❞

❝ And no kidding about the trust thing. Though Geto-san is reserved for the suckers who’re paying my bills.  And my clients, I guess... —-- You can call me Suguru.  I think we’re well past formalities at this point, anyway. ❞

Suguru contemplated lighting another cigarette for the remainder of the walk, but his fascination over the way Satoru practically led him to his own home occupied way too much space in his mind to bother with anything else.  He stayed a step or two behind the vampire, watching through curious eyes as the other identified his apartment building and led them through the lobby. It was a public space, after all —- Satoru didn’t need to be welcomed into the cold entryway that held each resident’s mail —- but what was completely unusual about this whole thing was the way the vampire knew exactly where he was going.

Suguru hadn’t given him an address… just the general area in which he lived.  Even the FamilyMart wasn’t enough of a giveaway.  Was this the infamous Six Eyes ability? Probably… though that casual realization didn’t make this whole walk back any less unsettling.

Suguru watched as the other man unlocked his door with nothing more than a hand hovered over its handle.  ❝ Creepy, ❞  the exorcist mumbled, not bothering to match Satoru’s all too confident smile.

The vampire was like a kid in a candy shop as he perused Suguru’s home, looking over every weapon, every tool in his arsenal.  Suguru kicked off his boots and hung up his coat whilst Satoru surveyed his new surroundings —-- he figured he might as well get comfortable before this guy ultimately decided his fate.  A tightly fitted black t-shirt revealed the smooth bumps of titanium jewelry pierced through each nipple, and the depictions of demonic forces and supernatural entities that had lingered in his mind were sprawled across each bicep and forearm in permanent black ink.

Suguru even let his hair loose, untying the bun that kept those longer black strands of hair out of his face.  He was honestly fucking exhausted —- he had started this day in Ho Chi Minh, only to find his way back to Tokyo for another high-risk exorcism. And now he had a vampire poking around his home… 

Though Suguru’s interests were piqued the moment Satoru stepped into his main artillery.  He lingered in the doorway, leaning against it as Satoru removed one of his weapons from its casing. 

It was strange, watching him hold it with such care.  Like he had seen it before, somewhere.

❝ That one?  Hm… I think it belonged to some famous Hunter before I got my hands on it.  I don’t know much about it, though.  Picked it up from some exorcist in training who wanted me to keep it safe. Something tells me this isn't your first time seeing it, though. Care to share it's history with the rest of the class? ❞

𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒? 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓, 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑. His interest was already piqued, so he found the additional confirmation of Suguru's knowledge of vampires' abilities -- or, rather, a specific-to-him kind; long distance teleportation. Sukuna could move fast, in a blink to humans, wickedly so, but there was a distinct difference in how other special-grade vampires moved swiftly through space and how space, seemingly, moved around Satoru instead. He kept himself within an uncomfortable proximity, Infinity silently thrumming between them -- Suguru's last puffs of smoke wafting around the warped space that veiled him.

The shadows that stretched bloomed out of the already darkened corners of the exorcist's peripheral vision, sprouting forth yet intangible, twin blurred depictions of ---- ... wings, perhaps? A trick of the dim light of a nearby streetlamp, ultimately, as the mere motion of them was blurred away entirely, enveloped inwards, cancelled out in the ability to process exactly what had happened by the snapping suddenness of their arrival in an entirely different alleyway. The lighting shifted in tandem with how the shadows receded in a blinking withdraw back away from Satoru's body, falling into the cracks and crevices of the brickwork behind him, illuminated now by the steady gleam of the FamilyMart's neon sign indicating it was open for business.

The disorientation of abrupt and yet seamless teleportation was likely stunning for a human; they hadn't moved an inch in placement or even orientation to the earth; the world had warped around them, a freshly painted canvas smeared by a wipe of a hand ---- or wings, in this instance. Satoru slowly slid his eyes away from Suguru's own, a mercy to give the man a moment to collect himself from the inevitable whiplash. The vampire stepped toward the automatic doors without issue, intent on having his fix of sweets. Maybe he'd get some mochi, some candy, and a soda.

❝ Want anything? ❞ He slung the offer over his shoulder, then proceeded inside.

Whether or not Suguru joined or had a request, Satoru was quick and polite, gathering his things, paying at the register, and offering the cashier a sparkling smile when she stuttered to tell him to have a nice night ---- whilst she clearly gawked at him, quite understandably, due to the absence of his sunglasses providing no screen to dilute the potency of his eyes. The fluorescent lighting, at the very least, decreased the glowing effect enough to cease any worry of being inhuman.

Clearly he didn't care enough to slide the glasses back on, intent on making a b-line from the shop to Suguru's place ---- and Suguru already knew what he was, who he was. This was freeing.

❝ Inviting what I am to your home like this... you're giving me a lot of trust right off the bat ---- albeit it's pretty reluctant, yeah? It's been noted, exor-- ... ah, actually... ❞ Satoru turned whilst walking a few paces ahead, walking backwards to face Suguru as they made the short last leg of their trek to his apartment. ❝ -- do you prefer Geto-san? I suppose you're welcome to call me Satoru, given you already know soooo much about me ---- and I have a feeling I'll get shot down if I told you to refer to me as Gojo-sama. ❞

He chuckled at his own joke, a genuine mirth flickering across those vibrant eyes. He was playing a minigame in the several steps they took thus far ---- Six Eyes darting around each apartment building to seek out any residuals, any energies that marked a space as Suguru's... ----- and he narrowed it down, give or take that there were clearly wards placed to protect against supernatural tracking methods.

Not Six Eyes, though, not with Satoru this close by at least. The imagery was diluted, like he was looking with the wrong prescription on a pair of glasses -- but he saw the warbled runes and hovering energies and turned to follow forward to that complex without the need of Suguru's navigation. Satoru turned, then opened a door to the lobby area -- able to enter, at the very least, the baseline of a private residence if public entry was permitted. They climbed up a few flights of stairs, Satoru leading in an eerie accuracy, turning to the correct hallway and reaching the correct door.

Audaciously, he reached out before Suguru could even begin to fumble with his keys, turning a hovered hand just above the handle -- the distinct clicking of a bolt switching, then he touched the knob and turned to open it, grinning practically ear-to-ear. He opened Suguru's door for him, stepping back to let the guy enter first in a mockful inside-joke amongst vampires; inviting in the owner of the home, what a silly gesture, he even threw in an 'after you' motion. Suguru truly gave this vampire too much power.

Satoru stepped in after him, eyes piercing around immediately upon the entryway, reading the invisible runes cast across the wooden frame of the entry's threshold. Flares of energies like lightning bugs went off around him, so many -- artefacts, amongst the mess of strewn clothes and other signs of human life half-gathered in heaps onto tops of a cushioned chair, a dirty ashtray and an empty can of soda on the coffee table, an outdated TV, mismatched furniture housing... ah!

❝ Ooooh, so many goodies in here -- ❞ Satoru all but cooed, setting his plastic bag of treats down in the entryway's small corner for hanging coats and setting keys down, kicking his shoes off accordingly before he immediately started sniffing around.

❝ Eugh, so Christian, ❞ he murmured mostly to himself whilst surveying a stack of books and an ornate rosary, cross, strewn atop the creased spines of multiple variations of bibles. But that wasn't all -- glass-encased, there were artefacts of genuine worth --- dusty, of course, and messily sprinkled throughout whatever surface didn't have old dishes nudged alongside a vessel of holy oil, genuine from scent alone, and a capsule of ashes from a saint. Many books, texts of languages which shifted into translation of Japanese once Satoru's Six Eyes hovered upon them for a second longer. He drew his physical gaze elsewhere, collecting information within mere glances, taking everything in.

❝ Silver bullets, a bunch of salt, some silver kniiiiives, hey -- you even got the wooden stakes, nice shout out, those are classics. ❞

Satoru stepped further into the apartment, ignoring the living room ---- the sparks that filled his Six Eyes drew him directly across the entryway's space into the first room. Bold, putting everything important right here, but he supposed it made sense if Suguru never had company over ---- which... clearly he hadn't, at least not in some while.

Satoru stopped in his tracks in the center of the room. Was that ---- ...

❝ Where'd you get this one? ❞ Satoru was already stepping forward and removing the casing ---- an open blade, two-tiered and askew, dusty and dirty, genuine from not only sight and aid of his Six Eyes identifying it but ---- it still had the centuries-old scent of his blood on its uniquely shaped blade, smallest near-imperceivable specks near the base of its hilt. Satoru picked it up from the stand with an odd sense of care to his hold, gripping its hilt and then placing the tip of the outermost and longer portion of the blade's two-tiered prongs against his other hand's waiting fingers, the flat side. He peered down at it, at his lack of reflection upon its dull gleam, almost nostalgic.

[omegalomania]

heaven, iowa is..........t4t coded

[pisshandkerchief]

fucking hate when I have a drawing concept stuck in my head that I simply can not do justice with my mediocre artistic "talent"

[daeluin]

not insane as in every song is about patrick truther but insane as in every song in mania is ultimately about patrick truther

[andoutofharm]

tell me when the party ends will you still love who i am

[mercyburned]

thinking about k.aeya and r.osaria being the two least religious people in m.ondstadt + dark academia religious imagery and themes but only when it involves each other and the way he never steps inside the church of fa.vonius unless he's being paid to do it but he worships at her altar at every opportunity // @maquiscursed

[thekidsarentalright]

i will never ask you for anything except to dream sweet of me

[millsimagination]

My daily relistening of smfs today and all I can think about is the line from “Heaven, Iowa”

I closed my eyes inside of your darkness, and found your glow.

Like man. That’s beautiful. That’s knowing someone’s deepest, weirdest bits and still finding hope inside there. That’s what I want, maybe that’s what we all want.

And musically, it fits so well because most of the instrumental just cuts out as if you really are in that dark void. Inside of that darkness.

And then there’s the glow.

[atomiqueen]

tag drop 6: relations.

[septembersghost]

patrick stump. sir. honey bunny. what did you put in these melodies what siren power is in your voice we need to TALK. plus the instrumentation the arrangements the intricacies the contrasts happening between the raw lyrical emotion and the soaring layered sounds here...the more i listen to smfs the more convinced i become that it's some of their all-time best work

[mercyburned]

@apocryphis

[shotmrmiller]

simon's many things. a retired fighter, for one. he hung his mma gloves a few of years ago with the excuse of getting older. he still sticks around, though— sitting in the front, so close to the hexagonal cage that his knees can touch the steel, occasionally gesturing price over to hand him a crinkled wad of cash.

gambling's illegal, you know.

thought you were a medic not a cop, pet.

a veterinarian.

good thing we're all dogs here, then.

he's also a bit unhinged, or so price says. you had pressed your tongue against the back of your teeth to keep from asking him if the hits simon's taken to the side of the head knocked a few things loose or if he was simply born that way. you'd be thoroughly unsurprised by the latter.

seen 'em take a man out with one ferocious hit— dislocated his jaw and retired him all in one second— all over cigarettes.

what, did they guy like steal them or something?

no. the prize for the winner of their fight was that pack of smokes.

incredible. (that's insane.)

he's also unrepentantly forward and a bit of a pervert, to boot. no explanation is needed.

lemme take ya out, love—

don't call me that.

and wear a pretty dress with heels. bet you'd look real good in—

stop talking, simon.

and now, you're about to find out that he's also, apparently, magnanimous.

a friday night's hustle and bustle has come and gone, as has the crowd that was in there earlier to watch a fight. the air smells of cheap alcohol and even cheaper cologne. the lighting inside is dim, casting a dull, almost sickly glow over wooden stands and the bloodied arena. the floor, once dry concrete, was now mud-slicked; drinks, urine, and spilled blood staining the surface. betting slips stick to your sneakers as you walk. (trudge, more like.)

with your worn medical supply bag around your shoulder, you tiredly head towards price's office whose metal door is being held open by an old barstool, and gently rap your knuckles on the frame. "i'm leaving, john."

he looks up at you, soft blue eyes crinkling over his glasses as he smiles. "sounds good, love. see ya later. want me to walk you out?"

always the gentleman. "no, i'm alright. i'm sure simon's out there waiting for me any—"

the metal entrance door slams open then, causing you to jump at the startling noise. you whip your head around and a resigned groan escapes your lips. it's simon and he's got bruised company. very bruised.

there's never any rest for the wicked.

"who's that?" john calls from behind you. "he lost?"

the guy whose arm is slung around simon's shoulders looks relatively young. thick, straight eyebrows, a swollen broken nose, and thin blood-crusted lips. the last time you saw a mohawk on someone, it'd been in the early 00s.

"somewhat but it's a good thing i found 'em," simon grunts. his eyes flash over to you. "can ya patch him up f'me, love? i'll go on tha' date you've been beggin' me for."

you ignore simon as you approach them both and tip the guy's head up with your fingers under his chin. searching in your front pocket, you tell him to look at you. "open your eyes as best you can, alright?"

his eyes are like sparkling blue gems— bright like the sky on a clear summer's day. he winces at the blinding white light emitting from the flashlight. "tha' necessary, lass? ah'm not seein' double, if tha's what ye lookin' fer."

he gives a pained grunt before simon tells him to stand still. "my girl here's the medic and what she says goes. clear?"

"crystal, sir." purple bruises are blooming like dark flowers around his left eye and right cheekbone, and the blood that oozed from his split lip long coagulated. his nose, however, continues to languidly drip crimson.

"not the worst break i've seen," you mutter.

the pair shuffle behind you quietly as you head toward the dedicated medical room. the sharp, clinical scent of antiseptic wafts through the air as the door swings open.

"sit, please," you gesture to the well-worn chair in the corner.

black latex gloves squeak in protest as you slide them on. "wanna tell me what's going on, simon? i'm not gonna fix the nose of a wanted murderer, am i?"

simon chuckles under his breath. "no. unlucky bloke chose to mug the wrong person. johnny here is real good at fightin', though, for someone with no real proper trainin'. figured i could give him a way to earn his money instead of stealin' it off of hard-workin' folk."

you hum and press your thumbs as gently as you can where the nasal fracture is. johnny hisses sharply and grips your wrist tightly. "easy. i barely touched it." you quickly tap the back of his hand with your knuckles. "let go, please. last thing i need is you tensing and breaking my arm."

he slackens his fingers and sits on both of his hands. "sorry, lass. ah'd never hurt a bonnie lass like ye. say, how'd ye even end up in the bowels of the city?"

his talking re-opened the cut on his upper lip, blood streaking his teeth pink. "i'm a charity case, just like you, i reckon."

johnny means to continue the conversation, but you take advantage of his distracted mind and push to the left, the sickening crunch of cartilage follows the adjustment. he curls in on himself and lets out a guttural noise that bounces off the white walls. "i'd be sorry but..." you trail off with a casual shrug.

pulling a clean rag from a basket nearby, you order johnny to sit up straight. "look up for me." he leans his head back, adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. "hold this there," he squeezes his eyes shut when you firmly press the rag under his nose, "you'll stop bleeding soon enough."

you swivel on your stool, turning your attention to simon who's been silently watching you work by the door. "any injuries on you?"

he pulls his balaclava up, revealing a blonde stubble and scarred lips. "i got an injury right," he points at his mouth, "here tha' you can kiss—"

"stop talking, simon."

johnny's laughter emerges from behind the crimson-stained cloth.

--

this is the first time you've ever seen simon in the ring.

simon, even while 'retired', fights with a viciousness that borders on primal. his snarl— a ravenous wolf's— bare crooked teeth that hunger for victory, for dominance.

even when he's merely teaching johnny how to survive in this subterranean battleground.

"there's no room for mercy, soap!" he bellows. his eyes are sharp as blades, holding an edge of madness. he charges forward with fists like sledgehammers, delivering blow after punishing blow; johnny's body paying the price for his mistakes.

pain is the currency in that pit of despair, laswell had once said.

simon is a beast in human skin, ferocity incarnate...and you don't remember the last time you were this aroused by such a brute display. if this is what he looks like now, after years of being the spectator and not the spectacle, you can only imagine him in the zenith of his strength, his power.

heat licks up your cheeks at the mere thought.

he looks like he was born and bred to fight. his crib must've been the stained mat he's dancing on, his lullabies the sound of fists making contact, forcing flesh to yield. his broad back bears the weight of history— jagged flesh that stretches taut with each swing.

"fight smart! rules dissolve once tha' bell tolls, mate. many come here for glory, others come for an escape but some--" simon ducks the undisciplined punch johnny throws and gives him a ruthless jab to the ribs once then another to the side of his cut jaw.

johnny falls like a tree that's been cut at the trunk, the sound his body makes on impact with the canvas echoing in the empty basement. his breathing comes in ragged bursts, sweat and trickles of blood mingling on his face. simon kneels next to him, grunting as he goes down. "some are only here for their next meal and those are the most dangerous."

he is in his element, all bruised flesh and bloodied nose.

oh no. johnny's nose is bleeding too. "simon!" his head snaps to you when you scream, eyes wide and unfettered. "i just fixed his nose, you dolt!" his expression softens then— furrowed brows and taut lips relax.

"he'll be alrigh'. even my nose whistles when i breathe," he remarks.

simpleton. nothing but fighting and gambling in that big head of his. "that doesn't mean that it's okay to break bones i mended a few days ago." you keep your eyes fixed on johnny, ignoring the way the heat that's radiating from simon's sweat-slick body seeps into your chilled skin. "why he call you soap, anyway? good at cleaning dishes?"

he slurs a little, blood dribbling from the corner of his mouth. "'cuz ah'm a shlippery bashtard."

you bite on your tongue, hoping that his slurring is because he's still mildly dazed from the punch and not something worse.

"wha' about me, love? i've got a beaten face too, y'know." you look at him then, narrowing your eyes as you take his bare face in. the bridge of his nose is pretty swollen, and you can see the onset of bruising already happening. it's also freely dribbling blood.

"shit, let me go get my medbag."

he hooks his fingers around the loops of your jeans, keeping you in place. "'fraid of a little blood, are ya? i think you'd look real good with me on you."

a jolt of arousal shoots up your spine unbidden, blooming desire, focus wavering. your breath catches and pupils dilate as they lock with his rich, brown ones.

"oi, get a room, aye?" johnny's hoarse voice snaps you back to the present, your thunderous heartbeat ebbing away like a tide from shore.

"whenever you want, sweetheart," simon purred. the lump lodged in your throat makes it hard to respond. "get the bag 'fore i bleed out. price will have my head if i drop dead on his mat."

you blink and scramble away on shaky legs and weak knees.

[mercyburned]

6 / ? - ship tag version

✦ i closed my eyes inside of your darkness and found your glow. || rosakae ( maquiscursed ) ✦ so in this hour everything i do will be all for you. || clare & rory ( soulcluster ) ✦ now that we know each other our hearts are connected. || claudeleth ( armatization ) ✦ i realize now that love was right in front of me all along. || hilclaude ( armatization ) ✦ i dream in indigo when you're around. || danstelle ( draconiclotus ) ✦ you should know it's true; the part about my love for you. || ferdinand & hilda ( armatization ) ✦ i will be your sword and shield & you will be mine. || gepelle ( lotusbled ) ✦ i took you by the hand and we stood tall. || kaetheia ( lotusbled )

[whatudowhennooneseesyou]

𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰: 𝗛𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗱

Word Count: 4.3 K (I told you, It's been in my head for a long time)

Warnings: Jeong Yunho x sub!fem reader, Haunting Adeline AU, DUB-CON, partial somnophilia, unprotected sex, olfactophilia (scent play), sexual persuasion, stalker!yunho, oral (fem receiving), possessiveness, nipple play, jealousy, fear play, manipulation, kissing, biting, marking, praise (princess, good girl etc) and body worship.

Warning: 18+ only of course. This is a DARK FIC and it contains taboo and dark depictions of abuse that could be triggering. If you choose to read further, then you have heeded this warning and I hold no responsibility for your emotional well-being.

No sound was more loud and teeth-chattering than the wind howling

The night used to be your friend, a safe space, a creative outlet for your inner world and thoughts.

But now it felt like it was taunting you, teasing you as you held the coffee mug in your frozen hands, forcing yourself to stay awake as the minutes felt slow and agonising.

You prayed for the comfort of being alone now knowing you weren't...ever.

For He was always there.

Another rose was found on the coffee table this morning, all fresh and pruned with the thorns removed and a piece of paper wrapped around the stem.

The delicate handwriting revealed the next mission of this uninvited presence and it caused you to feel a sense of uneasiness you've never felt before.

My patience is running thin. I'll be with you tonight, my princess. Yunho

You silently walked over to the window that was uncovered by the drapes, watching the raindrops fall on the glass as you peered outside to gaze at the shrubbery and looming pine trees.

You hid in the shadows, trying not to reveal your face as you peered out the front of your domain, no sign of civilian life around you at all.

There was fear inside of you, fear of your safety and for your life sure but there was anticipation and curiosity.

Probably a lot less fear than you should have for the stalker who's found you, isolated you and admittedly-cared for you.

Your eyes lock onto the shadow formation in the bushes, your heart racing as you found your dark knight.

His tall, lithe build standing there in the heavy rain, covered in black and the hood of his parka covering his face except for a small sliver that revealed the plumpness of his lips and defined cupid's bow.

The one that has been sending you roses month after months, all pruned with pieces of paper tied around the stem.

The one that has been leaving nicely-packaged gifts on the empty side of your bed, all wrapped in crimson paper with a pretty rose on top.

All containing gifts of the highest quality such as perfume, a silver necklace with the 'Y' initial, makeup, sanitary products (how did he even know when your cycle was?), panties.

The latest one was an oversized plain, black t-shirt that smelt of musk and cologne, it smelt like he had worn it, slept in it...some perverted part of you wondered if he had worn it whilst jerking off with you in his mind- what was he even thinking about doing to you?

All the messages he gifted to you all revealed the same desires but with sickly, sweet words.

How he yearns for you. How he loves you, how he just wants to protect you, care for you, be your safety net from the cruelty of the world.

His desire to take you, claim you, ravage you, to bend and mould you to his will.

It felt like you were being courted and hunted for at the same time, were you to be his Queen or a gilded bird locked in a cage?

The reality of the situation quickened when the shadow form moved, your eyes locked on how his lips turned into a twisted smirk and he lifted his right hand to offer you a slow, taunting wave.

You quickly dashed away from the window without bothering to close it, running to the middle living and dropping yourself in front of the glowing hearth- wrapping the blanket around your shoulders further tightly around your body.

Ring the police, scream, run...why aren't you doing this? You hadn't even locked the doors...why? What's wrong with you?

The truth was this man brought out a perverted joy in you, the joy of being wanted, of being pursued, a temptation stirred in your belly at what could happen tonight.

He wouldn't kill you (at least you hoped) and you were tired, burnt out, lonely...maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to let him in?

The thoughts were too much for your sleep-deprived brain to cope with and in front of the hearth with a pillow on the floor and your blanket wrapped around you.

You fell asleep.

You lost the game.

The room was steeped in darkness, the only light a faint sliver of moonlight filtering through the curtains. The air was thick with the kind of stillness that made everything feel suspended in time.

Yunho stood silently near your feet, watching you scrunch your nose up cutely whilst you were asleep on the floor with the hearth flame slowly turning into ash.

He had been watching you for what felt like hours, the corners of his lips curled in a faint, almost tender smile. There was something intoxicating about your vulnerability, the way you were completely unaware of his presence. You were so peaceful, so trusting in your sleep, and it stirred something dark and possessive within him.

Yunho moved closer, the floorboards creaking ever so slightly under his weight. His breath hitched as he reached out, his fingers hovering just above your skin. He could feel the warmth radiating from you could almost hear the blood pulsing just beneath the surface. The urge to touch you, to claim you as his own, was overwhelming. Yet, he held back, savoring the moment, relishing in the power he had over you.

But he resisted, choosing instead to let his fingers trace a delicate line down the side of your face, his touch as light as a feather.

Your skin was soft, impossibly soft, and he could feel you shiver under his touch, your body reacting even in sleep. It was intoxicating, this power he held over you, this control. He could do anything—anything—and you would be helpless to stop him. The thought sent a thrill down his spine, dark and thrilling, as he leaned in even closer, his lips hovering just above your ear.

“Mine,” he whispered, the word barely audible, but it sent a shiver through you, your body instinctively curling in on itself, as if trying to escape an unseen threat. Yunho’s smile widened, satisfaction and something far darker curling in his chest. You were his, in every sense of the word, and tonight he would make sure you knew it.

As if sensing the shift in the air, your eyes flutter open, groggy and unfocused at first. You blink, your vision clearing, only to find Yunho’s face inches from your own, his eyes dark and intense, filled with an emotion that sends a chill down your spine. Panic surges through you as you try to push yourself up, but Yunho’s hand is already on your wrist, holding you in place with a grip that is firm yet strangely gentle.

“Shhh,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s a sinister edge to it, a promise of something far more dangerous lurking beneath the surface. “Don’t be afraid. I’ve been waiting for this moment.”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a wild, frantic rhythm that matches the fear rising within you. But there’s something else too, something that makes your pulse quicken for an entirely different reason. His gaze is intense, burning with a possessive hunger that makes you feel both terrified and inexplicably drawn to him.

“What do you want?” you breathe, your voice trembling as you search his eyes for any hint of mercy, but all you find is that same dark intensity, a need that matches your own but twisted into something far more dangerous.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost predatory, as he leans in even closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You. I want you, all of you. And I’m not letting you go.”

The words send a shiver through you, a mix of fear and something far more dangerous, something that makes your pulse race with a heady mix of terror and desire. You know you should fight, should scream, should do anything to escape his hold, but all you can do is stare into his eyes, trapped in the dark, magnetic pull of his gaze.

And then, with a gentleness that belies the darkness in his eyes, Yunho releases your wrist, his fingers brushing against your skin as he pulls back slightly, giving you just enough space to breathe, to think, but not enough to escape. The room feels colder without his touch, and you realize with a start that a part of you misses the warmth, the connection, no matter how twisted it is.

“What are you going to do to me?” you whisper, your voice barely audible, your fear mixing with a curiosity you can’t quite suppress.

Yunho’s smile is slow, almost lazy, as if he has all the time in the world. “That depends on you,” he replies, his voice soft but filled with a dangerous promise. “But one thing is certain—you won’t ever want to leave me. Not after tonight.”

The words hang in the air, heavy and full of meaning, as Yunho’s gaze holds yours, daring you to resist, to fight, even as he knows you won’t. Not really. The darkness in him calls to something deep within you, something you hadn’t known existed until this moment, something that responds to his possessiveness, his unyielding desire to claim you as his own.

And as the tension thickens between you, you realize with a start that you’re not entirely sure you want to resist. Not when the alternative is losing yourself completely to the dark, twisted allure of Yunho’s obsession.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” he murmurs, his voice low and soothing, but there’s an edge to it, a raw, unfiltered need that makes your breath catch in your throat. “I’ll take care of you my princess, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted… if you let me.”

His hand moves to your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse, feeling the frantic beat of your heart beneath his touch. You can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” Yunho whispers, his lips grazing the sensitive skin just below your ear. “For you. You have no idea how much I want you.”

His dark hair frames his lashes and enhances the intensity of his gaze, the parka gone from his shoulders and now replaced by a black, long-sleeved henley shirt and his cheeks flushed red with desire.

His other hand moves to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch firm yet gentle, as if he’s afraid you might disappear if he’s too rough. But you’re not going anywhere—you can’t, even if you wanted to.

There’s a moment of hesitation, a brief second where you could pull away, where you could resist the pull of his gaze, the magnetic attraction that binds you to him.

'How I needed you'

His lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, and whatever resistance you might have had crumbles beneath the intensity of the moment.

The kiss is slow, deliberate, filled with a hunger that Yunho has kept restrained for far too long. His hand moves from your neck to cradle the back of your head, deepening the kiss, and you find yourself responding, your body leaning into him, craving the warmth and the connection despite the fear that lingers in the back of your mind.

Yunho groans against your lips, the sound vibrating through your entire body, sending a rush of heat pooling in your lower abdomen. His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer until there’s no space left between you. The kiss becomes more urgent, more demanding, and you can feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, threatening to snap at any moment.

When he finally pulls back, you’re both breathless, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you try to process what just happened. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes half-lidded, dark with desire as he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, the words a possessive growl that sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. “Say it.”

There’s no hesitation in your response, the words tumbling from your lips before you can even think to stop them. “I’m yours.”

Yunho’s eyes flare with satisfaction, and then he’s kissing you again, harder this time, his hands roaming your body with a need that borders on desperation.

He drapes his body over yours and cements you to the floor, his body providing all the heat you needed as he kisses down your neck, his teeth clamping down on the skin and leaving a mark.

A dark chuckle leaves his breath as you moan at the sting, the sensation changing as he licks over it to soothe the pain before averting his attention to the base of your throat.

You could feel how hard he was as he grinded on your thigh, it aroused and terrified you about how big he felt, your imagination betraying you as the thought of how you would take him made your mouth water.

Fuck, you hoped he was nice enough to prep you or would he be mean and expect you to take that thick cock of his without any prep at all?

His hands tug at the fabric of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head in one fluid motion. You shiver as the cool air hits your skin, but the chill is quickly replaced by the heat of Yunho’s touch as his hands explore every inch of you, memorizing the feel of your skin beneath his fingertips.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin, his voice husky with desire. “So perfect.”

The praise sends a flush of heat through you, your body arching into his touch, craving more.

Your thoughts were undone when his hands cupped the curve of your breasts, squeezing them gently and kneading the flesh as a moan echoed from his throat.

'So soft, so full, just like how I imagined them princess' His voice was deep, raspy and filled with need as he leaned down and wrapped his lips around the bud, his tongue swirling and suckling as he kneaded the other one with his fingers.

Yunho could be buried in your tits all day and it would feel like heaven to him, his teeth scraping the edge as he pulled away with a thick, sucking noise before moving on to the other.

His lashes fluttered and his moans were beginning to sound like music to your ears, your hands gripping the surface beneath you as you stifled your moans, though you weren't not sure why- no one could hear you.

He pulled his mouth away from your swollen bud before reaching up to gently tilt your chin down so you could see him, his pupils blown-out and dilated- who was fucked more, you or him?

'Don't silence yourself- I need to hear you princess. You can try and fight this but I see the way you respond to me. You crave this as much as I do, even if you won't admit it'.

Your body shivered at those words as Yunho placed kisses down your naval, biting the skin every so often so your body was a myriad of his kisses and claims.

A squeal left your body as Yunho roughly pulled your hips to him, grabbing the fabric of your thin leggings and tearing the material near the crotch region.

You were fascinated at how he could tear the fabric with his bare hands, watching the veins in his hands, neck and forearms dance as he pulled the material roughly down your legs.

'I never want you this clothed when you're with me princess, I'm going to steal all the pants you own. Want you easy and pliable for when I come to your room and fuck you senseless every night'.

Yunho's eyes turned predatory and wild as he buried his nose in your panties, his hands holding down your hips and fingers kneading into the flesh.

The tip of his nose rubbed your clit through the material and your cheeks reddened at the sound of him inhaling your scent, a deep guttural groan resounded through the room.

"Mmm, you smell so sweet, baby. I could stay between your legs forever," Yunho growled, his voice rough with desire. His hands tightened around your hips as he pressed his nose harder against your clothed core, the warmth of his breath sending shivers through your body.

Your back arched involuntarily, a gasp slipping past your lips as he dragged his nose down, teasing the edge of your panties with his tongue. "You're trembling already, princess," he murmured, his lips curling into a smirk. "I haven't even started."

Yunho’s fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly dragging them down your legs, his eyes never leaving yours. His gaze was dark, hungry, and it made your heart race in your chest. "Gonna ruin you, you know that, right?" His voice was low, full of promise, and it sent heat pooling between your thighs.

With your panties tossed aside, he wasted no time, his mouth finding its place against your bare skin. His tongue flicked out, teasing your clit, while his grip on your hips kept you pinned firmly in place. The sensation was overwhelming, every nerve alight with pleasure as he worked you over with expert precision.

"Yunho..." you breathed, your hands tangling in his hair, desperate for something to hold onto as your body began to quake beneath him. He hummed against you, the vibrations only adding to the intensity of your pleasure.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he groaned between licks, his voice barely above a whisper. "I could make you come like this, princess, but I want you to beg for it first."

Your body bucked against him, desperate for more, but his grip tightened, keeping you in place. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "Say it," he commanded, his breath hot against your skin. "Tell me how bad you need me."

Your breath hitched, every part of you aching with want. "I need you, Yunho. Please... don't stop."

His eyes darkened even more, satisfaction washing over his features. "Good girl." Then, without warning, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers relentless as he pushed you closer and closer to the edge, the room filled with the sound of your breathless moans and his low growls.

You were lost in the haze of pleasure, your body trembling uncontrollably as he devoured you, your release building until it was impossible to hold back. With a final cry, you shattered, waves of ecstasy crashing over you as Yunho held you through it, his mouth never letting up until you were completely spent beneath him.

Panting, you stared up at the ceiling, still dazed from the intensity of it all. Yunho wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, smirking as he crawled up your body, capturing your lips in a heated kiss.

"That's just the start, princess," he whispered against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. "You better be ready for more."

Yunho pulled back from the kiss, his lips still hovering over yours, but his eyes were blazing with something darker. His fingers trailed over your flushed skin, gripping your throat just tight enough to send a pulse of fear through you, but it only heightened the intensity of the moment.

"You think this is enough?" he growled, his voice dripping with an edge of dangerous obsession. "No, baby, I’m not even close to being done with you. You’re mine, all of you. I don’t care who’s looked at you, touched you before. From now on, I’m the only one who gets to claim you."

His hands roamed possessively over your body, fingers digging into your skin like he wanted to leave marks—like he wanted to brand you as his. "I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, leaning in to nip at your ear. "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

He leaned down, his tongue darting out to lick the sweat from your neck before sucking hard on the sensitive spot beneath your jaw. The bite of pain mixed with pleasure sent a shockwave through you, your body reacting instantly, but Yunho only grinned, like he could feel your helplessness.

"You think you can get away from me?" His voice was a low growl as he pressed his body flush against yours, trapping you beneath him. "You think you have any choice but to need me? No, baby, you belong to me. I’ll make sure of it."

His eyes flashed with something feral as he dragged his fingers down your body, his nails scraping just enough to leave faint red lines on your skin. "I’ll steal every last piece of you until there's nothing left for anyone else. You won’t be able to think about anyone but me."

He ripped his shirt off with one swift motion, revealing the sculpted muscle underneath, and his hands went to the button of his jeans, his gaze never leaving yours. "I'm going to ruin you for anyone else," he said, his voice gravelly and raw. "You're going to beg me, over and over, for more, and I’ll make sure you're dripping with nothing but me."

He leaned over you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "You're not going anywhere, princess. You're mine. And I’m going to remind you of that every night, every time you try to breathe without me."

His grip on you tightened, and his lips curved into a wild smirk. "I’m going to make sure you never forget who owns you."

He had you locked underneath him, using his frame and height like the gilded cage he wanted to contain you in. He needed you to understand the size of him, his height, his strength and how he could overpower you in every single way.

Your eyes opened to see his shoes thrown on the floor and Yunho pulling down the zipper of his jeans, both of you naked and the hearth silhouetting Yunho's frame.

He looked like Hades who had crawled out of the shadows, an unworldly beauty only enhanced by the onyx of his eyes which were filled with an insatiable need, a need to brand you with his soul or whatever you were willing to fucking take of his.

His lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he pumped himself, your eyes widening when you saw how big he was- long, thick and girthy and your mouth became dry from the thought of it inside you.

"I’m going to make sure you feel me everywhere," he whispered, removing his hand to move your legs around his hips, "You’ll wake up every morning aching for me, and no one else will ever satisfy you the way I do."

You flinched at the feeling of the tip of his cock near your entrance, his other hand planted against the side of your face, his breath ghosted over your face he murmured against your lips.

"Tell me you're mine again, princess. Say it'.

Your pulse raced, the intensity of his words wrapping around you like a vice. "I'm yours, Yunho," you gasped, your voice trembling with both fear and need.

He thrust into you without warning, the possessiveness in every movement making your mind spin. Each thrust was a declaration, a reminder that Yunho wasn’t just taking you—he was claiming every part of you, stamping his presence on your body, heart, and soul. The world outside faded until there was nothing but him, his heat, his grip, his hunger.

'Ahh, you feel like heaven' He moaned out in ecstasy before kissing you feverishly, the swipes of his tongue matching the pace of his hips 'you're my heaven'.

A changed position has you beginning to drool for him as he drops this knees down, grabs your thighs and pushes them towards your chest, angling his hips higher and grinding over your clit.

'You're my life, I'd live for you, I'd- ahhh! I'd kill for you, I'd murder everyone in the whole world if it keeps you safe and with me'.

The overwhelming intensity of his movements drove you to the edge, and soon you were unraveling beneath him, your body quaking as he pulled you deeper into the ecstasy.

As you cried out his name, your voice hoarse from the pleasure, Yunho groaned, his own release following not long after. He held you tight, as if letting you go now would be impossible.

Yunho’s grip remained firm as he buried his face against your neck, his breath hot and ragged. The way his body pressed into yours felt overwhelming, suffocating even, as though he was trying to imprint himself on every inch of your skin.

When he finally pulled back, his breath heavy and eyes dark, Yunho stared down at you with something that made your blood run cold. His thumb traced your lips, slow and possessive, his gaze never wavering. "You can try to get away," he murmured, his voice low and almost too calm. "But no one knows you like I do. No one will ever have you like this."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling in your chest like a vice. His lips ghosted over your ear, the air between you thick with tension. "I’ve been watching you for so long... you can’t escape me now, princess."

The possessive tone in his voice was chilling, his eyes wild with a dark obsession. There was no softness here, no tenderness—only the certainty that he wasn’t letting go.

"I’ll always be watching. Always." His grip tightened slightly as if to remind you that he was never far away.

Happy surprise party gift to you from me! This is a sneak peek into next month's Kinktober and the fics won't be as long as this but thank you to everyone who supported me with posting this- I'm about to go to sleep because I'm so nervous.

I'm going to include my taglist and ppl who commented on my post regarding this fic- only read if you're interested.

Taglist: @mykryptonitelight @cursedeastern @sugarnspice630 @ja3hwa @youre-alittle-taste-of-hell @scuzmunkie @marievllr-abg @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @mrcarrots @junieshohoho @gyuhanniescarat @partywithgyu @whatsk-poppinhomies @hologramhoneymoon @staytinyinmybpack @necessiteez @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @laylasbunbunny @anyamaris @krishastumblernow @hexheathen @i-love-ateez @michel-angelhoe @northerngalxy @justaaveragereader @silentreaderthings @daddysspecialdollyworld @abby-grace @wisejudgedragonhairdo @smilefordongil @writhingwrecked @hongthoven @almightyddeonghwa @planet-dawn

[satorusugurugurl]

Buzzed

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t drink. He’s a lightweight, never saw the appeal, and, well, it makes him horny.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Whiny super whiny Gojo, handjob, public play, Gojo is just buzzed, not drunk consent is key, there are several reasons he doesn't like alcohol

Word Count: 2,307

A/N: this popped into my head at work. The need for Gojo to whimper and whine is intense.

Gojo didn't drink. He had nothing against people who liked to drink; by all means, to each their own. He never liked the taste; he was a lightweight, and he'd rather spend his money on sweets. There, however, was another reason he didn't drink. One that was far too embarrassing to mention.

Whenever Satoru would drink, he'd get horny, like super horny.

So, it was safer for him to avoid alcohol altogether, which was pretty easy. That was until you both went to one of your co-workers' birthday party. You casually conversed with some friends while Gojo headed into the kitchen. He was in search of cake, but he found punch instead. He filled his glass, tentatively giving it a sip.

It didn't taste like there was alcohol in it, so he drank a full red solo cup. And he was working on his third in the living room when he felt like his blood was on fire. The room was hot, sweltering, and you, god, you looked even hotter. The tight-fitted shirt you wore emphasized the curves of your perfect body and breasts. Your ass looked amazing in your jeans, and your smile was to die for. God, why did you look like a goddess tonight?

There was a certain glow about you that drew him in like a moth to a light. He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder, his body pressed firmly against your backside. Not only did you look good, but you smelt fucking delectable.

You turned your head, kissing his cheek before turning back to your friends, joining in with their conversation, leaning back into Satoru when you both felt it. The huge and very hard bulge in his pants had you choking on your words as Satoru straightened, glancing at you in sheer panic.

“Toru?” He grimaced at the tone of your voice. “Please tell me that's your phone.”

“It’s not,” he confirmed your fear.

“Can you get outside to the balcony?” A glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was remotely close to his sanctuary.

“Yeah.” His voice was so gravely as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Good, go on. I'll be out in a sec.”

The second Gojo stepped into the cool night air, he groaned, looking down at his pants. What the fuck? Why was he sporting the world's biggest boner of all time? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He slowly sank into the dark corner, resting his back against the window where the curtain was still drawn, waiting for you to join him.

A second later, the sliding glass door opened and shut. Gojo’s hands flew towards his crotch, shielding his erection from any prying eyes. When he saw you turn the corner, he released the breath he'd been holding, dropping his hands to his sides. Satoru shut his eyes tight, biting back a pained whine. All you could do was knit your eyebrows together as you watched.

“Satoru? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nngh, fuck, I don't know.” His cock throbbed hard at the sound of your voice. “I'm so goddamn hard.”

“Aren't you always hard?” The teasing tone in your voice attempted to lighten the mood.

“Yes, but your point is irrelevant. Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I only get surprise boners like this when I drink!”

Satoru was panting as you tilted your head slightly to the side. “But you did. Mina’s punch has a fuck-ton of alcohol in it.” Your boyfriend's face was contorted in pained pleasure and confusion. “People can’t taste the alcohol because of the liter of Lemon-Lime soda and the whole ass pint of sherbet.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Glancing back down at his erection, he sighed in frustration. “I-It’s going to be awhile for this bitch to go down. I’ll stay out here; you go inside and enjoy the party.”

Right now, in this embarrassing moment, Satoru could barely look at you. During the entirety of your relations, Gojo never drank, leaving that up to you if you were in the mood. You understood he particularly wasn’t too keen on drinking; it was his personal preference. Seeing him now, sulking in a corner, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing. It made a little more sense.

Laughter and loud music blared inside the apartment, drawing your attention to the door. Mina’s special punch was getting to everyone, it seemed like. They were so immersed in their current conversations and food would they even notice your absence?

Satoru was in physical pain. His teeth were clenched as he hissed out in frustration. You took notice of his hands, how they twitched, drawing closer to his crotch before pulling away. The man was fighting against every instinct in his buzzed horny brain. You could tell by his expression that he wanted to do nothing more than stroke his fat cock until he came all over his fist. Satoru, however, was also one not to let his lust overtake him.

He wasn’t some horny freak that would pull his dick out and stroke it until he jizzed all over your friend's balcony railing. You, however, weren’t as collected as he was. Seeing your boyfriend's cock twitching in his pants, the tiny wet spot forming over his leaking tip, made you fucking feral.

“I don’t want to go back.” Closing the distance between you, Gojo watched with bated breath as your pretty hands unbuttoned his pants.

“Tsk!” Your boyfriend hissed, crystal blue eyes darting towards the door. “Y-Y/N, what if someone comes out?!”

“I guess you’ll need to stay quiet. That way, if someone does come.” You whispered, your fingers slowly tugging his zipped down. “Can you do that for me?”

Satoru didn’t have time to think of a response because his dick did all the talking for him. It throbbed hard in the confines of his boxers. He whined and watched more pre-cum seep through the fabric of his boxers.

You cooed, running the bed of your thumb over the growing wet spot. “I’ll take that as a yes?” A nod and a tiny whimper was all you needed.

Slowly, you slid your hand down the band of his boxers, immediately coming into contact with his hot cock. His velvety shaft twitched as you tugged his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The tip was a furiously red shade; his slit dribbled pre-cum. Seeing his fat cock this hard has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ahh, fuck, fuuuck,” Satoru whispered through a hiss as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You slowly stroked your hands up and down. Squeezing it, trying to mimic how your pussy would pulsate around him when he would fuck you. “Y-Y/N~”

Using his pre-cum as lube, you smeared it up and down his length. Watching the pretty tip twitch madly each time you collected your makeshift lubricant. Satoru groaned, eyes half-lidded, watching you, the way you shifted, pressing your thighs together, how you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it, as you jerked him off.

“I-I’m, haaa, I’m the one g-getting jerked off here. B-But you, holy fuck!” He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Your teasing jerks, changed, your wrist twisting with every move. “Nnngh, f-fuck but y-yo—ooooh shit, you're the one e-enjoying yourself.”

“Of course, I’m enjoying myself. Satoru, I love feeling your dick get hard in my hand. It's so fat, hot, god, it makes me wet.”

Satoru flushed, head tilting back, the veins in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw. He was the one that would normally talk to you like this. Having it turned the other way around, he had his head spinning. The dizziness was so intense your boyfriend tilted his head back before he began thrusting into your tight-fitted fist.

“Fuuck, Haa, ooh fuck sweetheart, feels so good.” you bit back a moan of your own, watching as he ducked your hands, stinks of pre-cum running over your fingers, as he slammed the palm of his Hans against the railing. “D-Dont stop baby~ fuck Y-Y/N don't fuckin’ stop.”

Watching him desperately fuck your hand was so fucking pretty. From the thin sheen of sweat on his beautiful face to the throbbing shaft in your hand, everything about Gojo had panties soaked. Right now, you wanted to drag him out of the cramped apartment and back to your place where you would fuck his brains out.

But getting him through the apartment right now was out of the question.to get what you wanted, you had to get him off first! The faster he came, the faster you'd get to have him inside of you.

“You're doing such a good job, Toru~” Your hand moved faster. “I love feeling your cock sliding into my hand. But I love it so much more when you’re sliding into me, stretching me with your cock.”

Satoru was a hundred present, certain you were responsible for his hot blood and the hazy gaze that lingered over his eyes. You were the source of his buzz, and it had him jerking like a virgin into your first. You tried matching his thrusts with your hand. The whines that left his mouth were all the confirmation you needed to know that it felt good.

“F-Feels so good.” Satoru cried out, head dipping down to watch you jerk him off. “Holy fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“Mmhm~ just think about how good my pussy will feel when I get you home.” A grunt sounded from him. “Yeah~ you like knowing that you’re going to fuck me when we get home~? You going to reward me for helping you~?”

“Y-Yes, p-please don’t stop Y/N, I can feel it coming. God, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Hearing the pleasure that paved his voice had you pressing your thighs together. “Yeah~ are you going to cum~? Do it; I want you to cum, baby~ I want you to feel so good~ Like the good you are.”

“Y/N?” Gojo jerked, his head searching for the source of your voice. “Hey, is Gojo okay?”

Without missing a beat, you pulled Satoru down with your free hand. Your hand pushed the back of his head into the crook of your neck. Gojo didn’t know what you were doing at first, but as your hand left to join the other stroking his throbbing cock, he picked up on what to do. He whimpered and moaned softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh yeah, he’s just a bit buzzed right now.” You stroked him harder, squeezing his shaft. “He doesn’t like drinking and thought the punch was safe.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His breathing whines were hot against your skin as his balls started to clench. He was so close to cumming, his eyes shutting tight, losing himself in the cooling sensation in his abdomen. So close, he was so close.

“Aww, poor guy, did you need anything?”

Gojo needed whoever the fuck this was to get out of here. He whined out your name into your neck. Hot breath having you shifting.”Y//N c-close.” He whispered as softly as he could as you jerked him faster, both hands working in tandem.

“Nope! We’ll be back inside in a second; I gotta get him home.”

“Okay!”

You waited until the door shut when you moaned with him. “Good boy, good boy~” his fingers dug into your back. “Go on, Toru~ cum for me~ give me it all.”

Satoru cried out into your neck in a nearly silent cry. “Y-/N oooh~ god fuck~ holy fuckin’ shit! C-Cummin’ I-I’m cumming.” You suddenly understood why he loved you, scratching up his back when you came around his cock. It felt good, so good, as he spurted thick ropes of cum all over your hand. “Nnngh oh fuck~! Fuck! Fuck!” His whines were shaky and nearly breathless as his cock weakly twitched in your hand. “Y-Y/NN~”

Gently you let go of his softening cock, bring your cum coated hand to your mouth. Satoru watched you closely, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He had half expectantly thought you were going to wipe his cup off on the inside of his jacket. What he hadn’t been anticipating was for you to flatten your tongue and lick it off. His sensitive cock twitched back to life at the lewd sight.

“Mmm~” You hummed in delight as if you just finished a meal. “So sweet and salty, Satoru~ I wanna taste it first hand when we get home.”

A switch flipped in Satoru’s head, be it post-nut clarity. He grabbed you by the face, turning you so you were pressed against the sliding glass door. The sudden flip had your breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend bent down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“The only one who is doing any sort of tasting when we get home will be me. If you don’t get us out of here fast, I’ll be sampling that soaking cunt right here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you dragged Satoru out of the party, shouting out brash goodbyes. Satoru might be buzzed from the punch. But you were buzzed off of him, and you needed to turn that buzz into a love-drunken affair.