synopsis . SukuGo but you’re getting fucked in between them while they argue. content . afab!reader, established relationship, rough sex, eiffel tower, sukuna x gojo, a bit of dirty talk, bickering, little attention on the reader, creampie, etc.
"You talk a lot of shit for someone who's barely keeping up right now." Sukuna rasps out to the sweaty, white-haired man on the other side of your currently ruined frame. He's got a single hand weaved into your hair as he works your mouth up and down the length of his blushing cock, still managing to argue even while he's halfway down your throat.
To which Gojo scoffs profoundly, "Oh yeah?" He starts, hands currently clinging onto the purchase of your hips whilst his pelvis meets the soft flesh of your ass with his heavy thrusts, heavy balls plap! plap! plapping! against your achy clit, "Says the idiot who-, hah, fuck... came on her face before she even stuck her tongue out," He fires back to the pink haired individual leaking all over the inner walls of your mouth.
Sukuna almost immediately rolls his eyes before setting them down onto you and sighing at the way your lips look bulging around the thick of his cock so prettily, "That was intentional.." He claims, weighty palm lightly stroking the top of your head whilst you lap your tongue against his most sensitively bulging vein, "After all, look at her now," He smirks when you try to take him a little deeper into your mouth but gag around him instead, "Poor girl won't even be able to talk properly tomorrow, I bet."
You try (pathetically) to insert yourself there and argue with Sukuna's last little complain but the only thing either of them catch out of you is a choked out moan with the way Gojo starts plowing into you harder from behind and Sukuna slips his hand off to the back of your hand to force your mouth further onto him.
You couldn't even join in if you tried, seeing as they way-too-easily had you moaning and sobbing tears of pleasure around both of their cocks.
"Fuck you," Gojo eventually huffs back after a moment of getting a little too lost inside you, literally. His fat tip is knocking right against that spot that has you gushing all around him and it's making it harder and harder for him to keep up with Sukuna's taunts.
The man who's busy watching your saliva gather up around his plump base and drip off of him and down onto the soaked sheets finds himself cocking an amused brow. "Oh?" The man starts off as he sends Gojo that signature smug grin of his, "You wanna?"
You feel Gojo's cock twitch wildly inside you and for a second, it almost feels as though he grows bigger. Hips stammering along with his voice slightly wavering, he pants out an all too caught off-guard, "W-What?"
Sukuna's smile only widens further into something all the more wicked. Then he clasps his lower lip in between his teeth for a moment and eases the pace of his cock rubbing up and down the expanse of your slopped tongue. "Let me finish up with this pretty throat 'n I'll save the rest of my energy just for you, yeah?" He offers.
Neither you or Gojo could tell whether or not he was serious about that.
Batting those pretty white lashes of his, Gojo's brows get to furrowing and his hips still inside you completely, "That's not what I-"
Before he can even finish, you're in between the two whining at the way Sukuna's cock slides out of your mouth all of a sudden. It's like they were forgetting you were in between them already! Pouting and looking up with glassy eyes, "Kunaa-"
"Shhh, shhh," He hushes out to both of you. Then he's using one hand to cup your jaw and redirect you where he wants you. You feel his fingers smush your face, forcing your mouth to open as he then force-feeds you the drooling head of his cock again to shut you up. When you start smiling around it, he shakes his head almost endearingly before looking over to Gojo and sending him a knowing smile, "One brat at a time."
Gojo instantly starts pouting but tries to play it off as if that were because of the way your cunt started clenching around him. Muttering, "Whatever." Hardly underneath his breath.
Sukuna chuckles, "Aw, you jealous?"
"As if." He chuffs.
"Don't worry, I'll give you a taste of my cock next since you're so needy for it."
"What." Gojo deadpans one last time, as if he weren't actively cumming inside you at the very thought.
banner art by rororogi mogera || perm general tags (1/2):
the video opens with a shaky, blurred view of your back. you're laid out with your head facing the foot of satoru's bed, perched with your ass up and your face laid sideways against the blankets.
he pulls back slightly, and the camera finally unblurs to reveal the full extent of your shared debauchery. satoru kneels close behind you, cock nestled flush between your lips, rubbing the underside of himself against the length of your slit.
this isn't your first round judging by the moisture that collects on your skin, and the messy gloss that stick to his happy trail. your legs shake as they struggle to support your body, arch deepening with ever slow pass of his cock over your weeping center.
satoru pans his phone up then, high enough to get a quick shot of the mirror that faces the bed before panning the camera back towards where your bodies threaten to meet. the microphone barely picks up the muffled string of words he utters to you.
"gonna be good?" he asks quietly, rubbing his warm palm up and down your back. you turn your head to the side a little further, looking up at him and the camera with a sweet nod.
"yeah?" he mumbles, testing the weight of one of your asscheeks in his hand. he squeezes the soft skin there, kneading you like dough before bringing his hand down to guide his dick where you want it.
he breaches you until he's got the entire tip inside, and you both moan. the camera pans back up then as satoru angles his phone at the mirror with a satisfied look on his face.
he takes the time to admire himself, rucking the bottom hem of his too-tight shirt up to reveal the chisels plain of muscle that lies underneath. the camera catches everything. the sleazy grin on his face, how the dim light bounces off every peak and dip he’s worked so hard to maintain. his hat is pushed backwards against his head, snowy white hair pulled off of his forehead to keep his vision clear.
satoru looks at himself like he just can't help it, feeling his body up like he wants to put on a show. he bites the hem of his shirt to keep it out of the way, bringing his newly freed hand down to stroke himself.
“you like being my pornstar?” he asks you, still ogling his own reflection.
you whine out a “yes”, so soft his phone barely picks up on it. satoru must decide your answer isn’t good enough, because he’s already withdrawing his hips with a tut. his tip slips out of you with a quick, devastating squelch.
“no, please, i love it.” you reason, reaching behind you clumsily for something, anything that’ll satisfy the incessant ache between your legs. he laughs at your little show of affection, shucking his shirt off and onto the floor with a hum.
“yeah she does.” satoru whispers, panning the camera down to capture you once again. he pats your hip appreciatively before snapping his hips forward, sheathing himself completely and making you squeal.
you'l never quite get over that initial feeling of taking him to the hilt on camera. how your toes curl every time him buries himself between your legs and stretches you open. it's a lot to deal with sometimes. the bravado of it all, the overwhelming pleasure that lingers even after you've had your fill.
satoru takes a moment to capture the way your hole flutters around his cock, mumbling praises that you can't quite hear over the ringing in your ears.
"c'mon, squeeze me, say hi to the camera." he muses, thumbing through the milky cum from earlier that night that spills out every time he eases his hips forward. you squeeze around him the best you can, nearly crumbling at the shockwave of pleasure that shoots up your spine.
you don't realize your eyes are closed until you feel his fingers closer around your chin. satoru whispers something unintelligible to you, stroking the soft underside of your face with his thumb before turning your head toward the mirror.
you watch his silhouette through teary eyes, moaning, and writhing, and burning at the knowledge that his phone is picking up all of it. every sweet little noise you try to hide, how hard he's fucking you in nothing but his hat, all of it.
you can feel your heart between your legs now. satoru can too judging by the noise he tries to stifle. you bring two fingers down to our core, keeping your eyes on his in the mirror while you lose yourselves in each other.
“yeah? you like that?” he asks you, whacking his palm against one of your asscheeks. you whine, legs opening. little further at the sting that kindles where he'd spanked you. you can't help but clench around him at the thought of watching the video back and seeing his handprint bloom against your skin.
he gets cocky when the camera's on. harsher, like he's running on borrowed time and wants to take you apart as thoroughly as he can. your mind drifts to the thought of him watching all your videos back the next time he's cooped up in his dorm during midterms. cock in hand while he watches how good he'd fucked you.
you'd be watching too, halfway across campus in your room with a vibrator squished between your legs as you try not to think of all the ways he'd taken you. of the things he calls you when he's balls deep, or how good his hands feel against your body.
you don't know what to do with yourself right now, all you know is that your orgasm is devastatingly close, and the way satoru's angling his hips just might send you to an early grave. your shaky legs finally give out under you almost on cue which takes the both of you by surprise. satoru only chuckles, taking advantage of the new position with a kiss to the nape of your neck.
you're a goner as soon as his thrusts start back up again.
it's all too much, too sudden. the new angle allows his dick to hit something absolutely mind-blowing inside of you which hurdles you that much closer to your end. your fingers are restless against your clit now, applying the perfect amount of pressure now that your hand is trapped between the mattress and your body.
you're loud as can be right now, neighbors be damned. every push and pull of his dick against your walls gets a noise out of you. hushed, shaky little moans that seem to hitch every time his balls press up against your slit.
satoru's faring no better, mumbling nonsense to himself with one hand spreading you, and the other catching everything on camera. he takes the time to enjoy your body, pulling your ass apart to get a good view of how ruined you are. the trail of cum down the backs of your thighs, the way your pussy stretches right at the brim. even your asshole gets a few seconds of camera time, clenching softly under the pad of thumb as he rubs you there.
"want it inside?" he asks you, already knowing the answer. you pulse around him like the thought of him humming anywhere but inside devastates you, nodding with a string of pleas and praises.
you beg him from his seed, hurried an unabashed while your fingers work at your clit, satoru's hand leaves your other hole and cracks down against your ass a final time as he spills into you, sending you over the edge as his seed floods your lower half.
your vision blurs, shifting in and out of focus as the weight of your organs comes crashing down on you. you're hyperaware of everything and nothing all at the same time, grasping at the sheets beneath you in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
satoru's just as wrecked, making sure to catch the way his cum spills out of you and down your legs as he pulls out. he's breathless, nearly hyperventilating from exertion, and soon enough, you feel the full weight of him settle down on top of you, phone off and landing somewhere near his feet.
"i'm gonna cum so hard to that later." he mumbles. you giggle underneath him, rolling his lax body off of you to lay your head on his chest.
"three rounds wasn't enough for you?" you ask. satoru scoffs at the jest, pinching your side softly before accepting the kiss you press to his mouth.
synopsis . Domestic morning sex in the kitchen with your grumpy husband. content . manhandling, somewhat soft sex, he’s obsessed with you, implied breeding kink, established relationship, filth, lots of praise, fluff if you squint, a tinge of softkuna, cum eating, etc. (answering this nonnie req)
Sukuna gets soooo frustrated by how good you feel that he starts rolling his eyes, scrunching his brows, and pouting as he watches his cock disappear inside you. He hates it when you start tightening up around him as if your sole purpose is to milk him dry—the sensation always makes his body feel as though it were hitching.
You’re currently arched over the cold kitchen countertop and he’s trying his best not to lose his mind but fuck you make it impossible.
All his focus shoots down onto the way you feel wrapped around him, your insides suddenly warmer while he battles with that overwhelming sensation of pleasure washing over the rest of his body. It's all too much for him and he doesn't want you to realize it just yet but everything about his body language gives it away.
His lower lip pushes out into a cute pout and his already-scrunching brows begin to twitch, eyes narrowed into a sharp glare while his careful hands press into that gorgeous arch of yours—causing you to moan messily against the counter.
Sukuna's too lost is how good you feel that he can barely focus on you and your whines anymore. The only thing that registers to his ears is the rather intoxicating squelch that rings out from your sloppy cunt. The rest of the house is dead silent so every little wet pop that saps out of you seems to echo loud enough to make the man feel dizzy in his own lust.
Then there's the way your pussylips look kissing his thick base, teasing and struggling all around him as if he were on the verge of breaking you and not the other way around. His balls feel weighty with each time they come smacking against your skin and his breath quickly grows ragged before he has time to catch it.
Your words smear out against the counter as you finally notice his unsteady breathing, "Sukuna, are you-, ah, are you okay?"
"F-Fuck, uhuh, m’fine, wife." He's grunting in response, as if his very expression wasn't breaking into something else-, something needier. You notice how his hips begin to roll slower, just pumping his fat cock into you so he can watch how your lips streeetch around him and how cum dribbles out from the sides.
Then his grip on your thighs gets tighter and his sharp fingernails start digging into your skin before you hear the sound that falls past his lips. It's a high pitched whine of something desperate—so desperate that your head angles back to his face and you nearly flinch at the heaviness of his gaze already on yours, like he wanted you to hear that.
Before you can even comment on it, Sukuna's cocking his head to the side and cracking the faintest smirk, "See what you do to me? Make me a damn fool," He huffs, not in the slightest bit embarrassed by the noise he let out. Then, as if to lessen the amount of time you have to respond or react to that, he nods his chin at you and groans, “Your leg, lift.”
His short command makes you scoff softly as you do exactly that. Lifting your right leg, his hand comes under your thigh to help it up to rest against the counter whilst his cock slides back—only his slobbering tip left licking your pussy. A wet mess of slick and cum is coating his length and it's then that he realizes something about mornings like this with you drives him especially wild.
Without warning, his hips snap forward and his dick thrashes into your walls at a newer angle, making your next snarky comment fall a bit short. “You’re s-so grumpy in the mornings. I don’t see why you even-, ohfuck..”
“You don’t see why I what?” Sukuna questions, hands traveling all up and down your body to trace over every curve available to touch.
The more his fingertips grazed, the more he wished to mark you in a way more apparent than he already has. Love bites decorate all parts of your frame along with messy drool trails that came about from his kisses earlier on when he first came dragging his feet into the kitchen. Looking at you now, he can’t help but smile at the fact that you didn’t even try to argue with him today about halting your cooking to let him have his way with you.
“Why you insist on interrupting breakfast to fuck me,” You finally clarify as you lift your upper half away from the countertop, “This is the third morning in a row, ‘Kuna.”
One of his hands lift with your body and grabs at your jaw before forcing you to turn your face to him. Smirking, “Should I apologize for my lust towards my wife?”
“Maybe.” You whisper back. His cock twitches at the single word from your tongue and you almost laugh at the fact that your husband might be a bit more addicted to you than he lets on sometimes.
Sukuna leans in closer and just barely cuts himself short of kissing you, “Mmh, yeah?” He hums.
Then, his hips start to drag back, heavy cock scattering his last load of cum against the plush walls of your cunt with another sloshy squelch! “Blaming me when you’re the one that’s so addictive—look at you—how can I not crave this first thing in the morning?” He says, emphasizing his words with a slow hump forwards, the force in it making your body bump against the counter a bit rougher than intended.
As you eye his face carefully, you notice the way those pink tuffs of hair cling to his forehead due to sweat and how raspy his words exit his throat. Sure, Sukuna always carries that sexy rasp in his tone but it’s always ten pitches deeper in the morning. That, and something about those ruby eyes of his seems to be all the more softer on you, more craving—as if he still didn’t have enough of you even while being balls deep.
“You’re perfect,” Your husband praises as he watches your gaze travel over him. The look you were giving him was enough for him to want to sink his teeth into any part of your skin he could. Fuck, you were driving him insane and you hadn’t even done anything out of the ordinary.
You chuckle lovingly and bite back a smile, “Don’t start that.”
Sukuna ignores your words entirely and only registers the heated pulse his words enthuse from your pussy. “We should get a mirror in here so I can show you since you don’t believe me,” He carefully suggests.
“I-, hahh…” Your breath falls short and your mind stammers when he starts moving his cock in and out of you again at yet another steady pace. “We have mirrors in every other room already, we do not need—“
“But we do, wife.” He quickly protests, lips on the verge of pouting again. “I need to be able to show you how pretty you look taking me in every room of this house,” As those words elegantly roll off of his tongue, he turns your head away and lets his hand find the back of it before slowly pushing your face to the counter again.
Your cheek sandwiches against its coolness once more and you feel his hand press into your lifted leg, his wide cockhead pushing up against your cervix due to that nasty curve his dick carries. “Sukuna,” You gasp, hands clawing for anything to grab onto.
“Awh,” The man coos with a knowing tilt of his head, “That made you drool.”
You grit your teeth and let your eyes travel back as you deny the debauched reaction your body had to his words, “I-I’m not drooling.”
Sukuna chuckles and you feel his palm slide over your leg, “Not up there, here.” He clarifies before letting his hand grab at the fat of your ass to spread you impossibly wider for his hungry eyes. “Fuuck, I can’t get enough of you.” He groans at the sight of your pussy weeping around his cock.
Your wetness coats every trailing vein of his and it’s the filthiest sight to lay his eyes on. Hell, this is the only sight he wishes to see every morning. Somewhere not-so-deep down inside, he wishes desperately that you’d wake him up to the dripping display of your cunt spread open for him to ravish as he sees fit. Hell, he’d probably cum at the sight alone—
“M’gonna cum, ‘Kuna,” You moan.
“I know,” He hushes out to you all smug-like. Then, the rest of his weight comes forward and you're being smothered from all over while his words find your ear with a rare sense of gentleness, “Go ahead, you deserve it., sweetheart.”
It's almost embarrassing the way your body begins to twitch against the counter. You and Sukuna have been married for quite some time but softness like this during sex of all things is a true rarity for you.
“Mhm, all over my cock, let me feel it," He thoroughly encourages while his tattooed chest squashes against your back, "Fuck." Sukuna heaves, “Messy woman… it’s dripping all over these shaky legs of yours.” He points out, feeling the subtly jitter in your legs as the wet release slobbers downwards.
You roll your eyes and everything just feels wet, “S’your fault.”
“Oh,” He smiles devilishly, “Is it?”
Your head manages to push up enough to angle back again and meet his gaze, “You know it is, don’t play dumb.”
Sukuna tips his head to the side and inches in to kiss you. It's a mushy feel of tenderness that only makes your heart thump wildly in your chest. Then he's talking into your mouth, “Mh, alright. I suppose it is my fault.” Another rarity for you: him accepting his faults. “Am I meant to take responsibility, then?” He asks.
Of course, your husband spares you no second to respond. Instead, he's moving to answer his own question and you feel a breeze of air slap against your backside as he pulls back and lets his cock slip out of you. His previous loads of cum mixed with yours tries to follow suit and exit your pussy with quick gushes but, he stop that with a simple swat of his thumb.
Then the man drops to his knees.
Still bent over the counter, you hardly have a moment to react before you feel something wet sliding up your legs. When you look down, you catch sight of your gorgeously obsessed husband lapping at your body to capture any dripped away cum from your skin.
You gasp, “What are you-“
“Cleaning my woman up, obviously.” He so promptly cuts off, mixing his kitten-licks with loving kisses whilst he makes his way up.
You try to push that other leg of yours off of the counter so you can at least stand properly but the man grabs ahold of it before you can even begin to move. “Sukuna, you can’t be serious.” You scold, feeling almost awkward as he tiptoes his way towards your cunt with his mouth.
He nips at your inner thigh and then lets out a low purr. “I can’t let this go to waste now, can I?”
“But-“
With one last annoyed groan, his mouth finally reaches your pussy and the way his tongue slathers up is enough to cut you off before his words do. Grunting 'n grumping into you, “Shut up and let me enjoy my breakfast, woman.”
So much for the food you'd been preparing for him a few hours ago...
banner art by Rororogi Mogera || perm sukuna tags:
contains: pornstar!caleb/bestfriend!reader, both of you are kinda drunk (not too much), pussy eating, recorded sex, & just pure smut sooo mdni!! i did proofread but i did this in basically a day so if you see some mistakes… LOOK AWAY!!!
porn★!caleb who always looks forward to that special time where you, his longtime best friend, comes over and stays at his place for a couple days. he values those rare moments where both your schedules are freed up at the same time, ready to spend as long as he can with favorite girl.
with you, he was more than his career, more than a pretty face with a big dick and a body that quickly skyrocketed him up the popularity scale in the industry. he was simply caleb, your bestie, and the takeout containers all over his coffee table that you sit on the floor together beside and a unimportant comedy movie playing in the background of your silly conversations, were just a few of the things to prove that true.
porn★!caleb who’s secretly and infallibly in love with you, so much so that his infatuation slowly began to trickle into his profession. nothing too obvious of course, but somehow, no matter who he fucked over the course of him finally acknowledging how deep his feelings ran, they always had to have some kind of physical trait that he could compare to you.
from body type, hair & eye color, the size of their tits, and the shape of their lips, if he was able to film a video with a woman that had any similarity to give him that illusion of what it would be like to see you in the way he had them, then he would. shamelessly, in fact. he got lost in it and performed his best, videos reaching scales he’s never massed.
that preference was made a nonnegotiable stipulation to be fulfilled for all future collaborations. a man like him had that privilege. and even if he knew none of the women could ever compare to what he fantasized the real experience to be, he’d selfishly take what he could get.
porn★!caleb loves when you start to let your mouth get loose the more small sips of wine you consume, touching him more than you already do and laughing harder at his corny jokes because of the subtle alcohol influence buzzing in your system. you’re more… bold, when you’re like this. he likes that. but tonight is showing to be something entirely different the more you ask him all kinds of questions that a 100% sober you would be far too shy to.
“is it… weird that i watch your videos sometimes?”
“does the sex feel as good as you make it seem?”
“i always wonder how you do what you do… with all those eyes on you.”
“i wish i had the experiences you have, y’know? i wanna know what it’s like sometimes.”
oh, how could he have been so blind?
porn★!caleb seems to be under the influence just as much as you are when his dick that twitches in his sweats starts to do all the thinking after your tipsy confessions. between his narrowed observing eyes that are glazed over with an unmistakable lust and a hardening cock, caleb’s body is on autopilot as he takes the chance to slide his palm along the curve of your jawline.
flickering between the mouth he’s imagined wrapped around him and the swell of your breasts beneath your tight night shirt, not an ounce hesitancy forms to stop him when you make the effort to meet him halfway.
porn★!caleb doesn’t know how he ended up in between your thighs so fast with your sleep shorts and panties completely disregarded, smiling into your dripping pussy when your back helplessly arches off of his expensive carpet and your nails dig into his tousled hair, but he doesn’t dare waste time to question it. not when you breathlessly call out his name and hypnotize him with every erotic cry when he sucks your swollen clit into his mouth.
“oh, pips… you could’ve just asked me,” he mumbles into your slick folds, burying his nose deep into your essence as he savors your addictive sweetness. he wants every single inch of you to be apart of him; every desire, fixation, secret, and confession. and he’ll take it from the source if he has to.
“gonna be good f’me? hm?” he hums into you, the vibrations leaving you blissfully numb with every flick of his skilled tongue to accompany them. “gonna let me show you how good it can get? how much better i’ll make it for you?”
porn★!caleb would confuse you when he stops tasting you in your attempt to hazily respond, licking up your juices that cling to his puffy lips while reaching into his pocket and retrieving his phone. the bright flash that covers your exposed form as a recording begins makes your eyes widen with surprise, but the lazy smile on your best friend’s face is enough to erase uncertainty.
“won’t show your face, pipsqueak. promise,” he assures, tone shaky with need as he raises your top to reveal the supple globes of your tits. he rolls your peaked nipples between his fingers, pinching the hardened nubs and spilling precum into his underwear like he has zero self-control with every whine you grace him with. he makes sure his phone doesn’t miss any of it.
“just need… fuck, you’re so pretty… need the proof that i was here.”
porn★!caleb would only ask you once if he can fuck you, promising that he’ll take care of you better than anyone you’ve ever watched him stick his dick inside of. he owes it to you, after all. and when your airy voice grants him that solid and unwavering “yes”, you’re shown in real time what the famous adult star caleb xia is capable of, what he’s known for.
with his pants haphazardly lowered, his thick cock that you’ve jealously seen him slide into “co-workers” in the quiet privacy of your bedroom, splits you open deliciously and it feels better than anything you’ve ever imagined it to be. in the span of your eyes rolling back from how thoroughly you’re filled, caleb took the small timeframe to prop up his phone so that he could be fully hands-on. he wasn’t wasting this opportunity.
“knew you’d feel g-good,” he sttutters, running his palm down the length of your jolting body from every deep thrust. “my best friend’s a little pervert, aren’t you pips? how long have you been watchin’ me, huh? touching this pretty pussy when you wished it was me doin’ it, filling her with my cum instead of someone who didn’t deserve it. hah… s-shit… s-shoulda been me… it’s gonna only be me from now on.”
“we’ll make our own movies, yeah?” you squeeze him uncontrollably, babbling senselessly every time you feel him prodding against your lower stomach from the inside. “you like that, don’t you? squeezin’ me so fuuuckin’ tight… mm, i do too. wanna be my little money maker?”
“yes… yesyes, please caleb… feel s’ good…” you wail, nails aimlessly scratching as his flexing biceps.
“y-you’re a natural for the camera, pips… you’ll let me post this, won’t you? let everyone see who owns this dick?”
you don’t know if you’re drunk off the liquor anymore or the man whose heavy balls slap against your ass when he relentlessly sinks back into your quivering pussy over and over and over again, but all that matters is that you’re hooked.
A/N: this… got way longer than i thought… i am not ashamed
❝ HIS CINDERELLA CAUSE I MAKE IT FIT ! ❞
⤷ Enjin x Fallen Spherite!Reader
>>>>>> Apparently Enjin has all the 'luck' when it comes to finding Spherites in No Man's Land. This time he's found you—a stuck-up Spherite noble—cast out with the trash. You're prissy, needy and an overall pain in his ass. Definitely not his type—but that slutty pussy sure is. ♡
>>>>>> 𝐦𝐝𝐧𝐢 𝟏𝟖+ for filthy enjin smut. enjin & reader are delulu & down bad. big dick!enjin. size queen!reader. bimbo!reader. sex under the influence. public sex. breeding. bjs. enjin is overall diabolical. but there's also a bit of plot too with some romance/fluff/humor. no spoilers for anime/manga.
>>>>>> 𝐰𝐜: 13.1k
𝐚𝐧: major special shoutouts to @honeybunnnnie my trash daddy partner in crime, who beta'd for me and gave me lots of good lil' gems I incorporated here. we share one horny brain cell when it comes to this man and the amount of headcanons we have made based on this that I didn't even include is INSANE lmfao.
You aren’t Enjin’s type.
That much is certain the moment he stumbles upon you after being called to check out a disturbance in No Man’s Land. Scanning the terrain of garbage, Enjin wonders if he’s hallucinating.
Still high from the night before—or maybe there’s a leak in his full face?
Either way he had to be tripping absolute balls right now because what the hell else could explain the giant kaiju-like plushie with bunny ears, wide beady eyes, and jagged teeth ripping apart trash beasts in the distance like they were wet paper towels?
But blazed or not, Enjin still has a job to do. Umbreaker sweeps him across the trash dunes in a speedy blur, but by the time he arrives he is already too late and the show is over.
All that’s left is you: a young woman passed out in a pile of demolished trash beast remains and other junk. The giant kaiju-like plushie—now inanimate and no bigger than a hand—lay beside you tethered to your person by a keyring.
Happening upon another giver in No Man’s Land wasn’t out of the ordinary, sure, but if Enjin thought he was high from seeing your jinki in action he had to be damn near in the clouds once he recognized your clothes.
Similar to when Enjin discovered Rudo, he could immediately tell by your dress you are a Spherite. But unlike the threadbare attire of the scrappy tribesmen teen, yours practically screams wealth. They are the finest clothes Enjin has ever laid eyes on. Appearing as if they are woven from gold itself, despite the fresh layer of grime that settled on them.
You aren’t just any ol’ Spherite—you’re a Spherite noblewoman.
Keh, interesting.
With a shake of his head Enjin scoops you up, heading back to HQ. They aren’t gonna believe this…
Enjin digs out a backup mask from his satchel—clearly not made for your face, because it slides right off. With an annoyed sigh, he holds it in place himself. Guess that’s his job now… at least until you wake up.
Although Enjin soon discovers a pattern of how unnecessarily difficult Spherites can be upon arriving to the Abyss—as the first thing you do upon waking in Enjin’s arms is to slap the everloving dogshit out of him.
Fuck, you have a mean right hand.
Enjin tongues a tooth to make sure it’s still there.
“Let me go this instant, you filthy kidnapping degenerate! I demand you to take me home!” You cry out.
Tears fog up the mask on your face as you clearly mistook Enjin for some kind of criminal with his ‘full face’ on. Enjin sighs, tightening his grip on you and taking the not-so-painless beating you’re dishing out until you reach the nearest city.
The very second you both are in a habitable area for breathing, Enjin unceremoniously dumps you to the ground. He catches the mask, yet he leaves you to fall straight on your ass. The fall shocks you but Enjin’s sure what’s really got you stunned is the strange bustling city surrounding you.
Removing his fullface, Enjin crouches down to eye-level with you. Overwhelmed and overstimulated by the foreign place, your eyes dart around helplessly. You’re frantic, looking everywhere for some sort of bearing of where you are and avoiding the man in front of you.
Yet Enjin just waits, clicking his tongue and rocking back on his heels, for you to quiet your hysterics enough for him to get a word in.
When your eyes, still wide with panic, finally meet, he has the nerve to raise a brow—like you’re the one being dramatic and not the guy who literally kidnapped you.
“So, as you may have noticed by now…this ain’t the Sphere,” Enjin says, balancing a cigarette between his lips.
You look at him skeptically—he says it like it’s nothing, while your world is actively falling apart. What is he even talking about?!
“I know this ain’t the welcome wagon you posh Spherites are used to but…”
Enjin pauses, exhaling smoke to the sky. Your gaze follows up, widening once you see the oddly shaped dome covering the city, a strange yellow fog in the atmosphere.
“....welcome to the Abyss, Girlie. Name’s Enjin.”
Blankly staring at Enjin, you say nothing. The both of you in a mini stare down. Although you’re the first to give by suddenly bursting into sobs.
Rolling his eyes, a thought briefly flashes in Enjin's head that he should have just left you for the raiders. Hell, he could still leave you now—you’re calling way too much attention to yourself.
However, Enjin also figures that with you all but swimming in luxury on the Sphere, you probably thought of the Pit—your so-called Hell, or its inhabitants as mere fairytale.
Enjin’s inkling is confirmed when you calm down enough to piece together that your now ex-husband had hired a bunch of shady tribesmen to kidnap and dispose of you—all to collect your inheritance.
Yeah, not your fault. Enjin thinks and cuts you a break.
For your own sake, Enjin somehow convinces you to come back to Cleaner HQ with him. He can’t return you to the Sphere himself—but he knows another Spherite who’s trying to make their way back. That small glimmer of hope is enough to lift your spirits, just barely. This time, you follow him willingly—though you still cry the entire way to HQ.
Shame how prone to hysterics you are, otherwise Enjin actually thinks you’re pretty hot. Noting how the expensive silk of your dress clings so damn well to your every curve. He’d sell your clothes while you were near the shopping district—but unlike Rudo, he doubts he could talk you out of them.
At least—not yet.
But that thought is drastically short lived as Enjin spends more time in your presence. Sure, you could have gotten along. You could’ve even been Enjin’s type. Yet there’s one glaring problem:
You’re an annoying, needy-ass brat.
Besides looks, you tick off nearly every one of his dealbreakers. You’re ditzy, dependent and whiny. Basically Enjin’s nightmare.
Plus your snobby little ass never once thanked nor apologized to him over the following weeks.
Not after he saved you.
Not after he brought you back to HQ where you were welcomed with skeptical, yet open arms—as a new, very reluctant (you had no other options really) recruit in-training.
And you certainly never thanked Enjin, even after all his shit luck, when he was assigned to be your teacher and look after your haughty ass. You have the most indignant pout on your face when Corvus announces that since Enjin found you, you're Enjin’s problem.
“You have to be kidding me? I’m stuck with Trashy Poppins here!?”
“Yo, Trashy—what!?” The reference doesn’t land with Enjin but he knows it isn’t good.
Semiu nods curtly in agreement of the pairing, amused that Enjin finally has someone to keep him on his toes as she ushers you off to get settled in.
The fuck?!
Lamenting being stuck is supposed to be Enjin’s line. Enjin had figured the logical move was to pair you with Zanka—the closest thing to nobility among the Cleaners—and let you bond with Rudo, a fellow Spherite, even if he was a tribesman.
But it doesn’t take long to realize neither boy can handle a grown ass woman like you. One flutter of your lashes and they’re useless saps—like the big sister he never had, you could soothe Rudo’s worst moods with a mere head pat.
While Zanka, older and appreciating your more ‘robust’ qualities, trips over his own tongue trying to talk to you.
Both ready to do anything just to earn a few sweet coos—unless someone steps in.
It had to be Enjin. He was the only one who could ‘resist’ your charms.
Still, Enjin’s got his work cut out for him when it comes to you—especially training you for combat and figuring out how the hell you’re supposed to use that so-ugly-it’s-almost-cute vital instrument.
He tries not to judge. Really, he does. Jinki are personal—he knows that better than anyone. But still…the fact that you even have one? That’s wild.
A Spherite? A noble Spherite, no less—the same pompous assholes who treat the Abyss like a dumping ground—actually caring enough about something to pump it full of anima?
Yeah, that’s impressive, he’ll give you that. What wasn’t though was the name you gave the lil thing: Bubu.
Tsk. Wack as hell. Vital instruments deserve names with some bite. Something like—Umbreaker.
Still, credit where it’s due—you’re picking things up faster than expected.
However, that doesn’t spare him from your nonstop bitching, though. The complaints come daily: the strange smells your hair absorbs, the absence of your sacred skincare routines, not being able to take a 30 minute shower, and how everything down here always tastes just a little off.
But the most absurd? The cherry blossoms.
You complain the most about not being able to frolic in your lush, petal-covered garden full of rows of cherry blossoms. Enjin’s never even seen a damn tree like that, let alone the acres of grass and flowers you describe like some bedtime fairytale. You haughtily anoint yourself as a floral herbalist, an expert when it comes to your pretty little flowers.
It’s shit like that on top of everything else that irks Enjin when it comes to you.
And yet?
Enjin thinks the most irritating thing about you is the fact that he can’t seem to stay away from you.
Sure, you’re annoying as fuck—but in spite of his own objections, Enjin keeps finding ways to keep your time occupied. He makes up excuses to train you longer and drags you along on missions that are solely meant for him.
Moreover, since you can never keep that pretty little mouth shut, anyone you meet clocks you as a Spherite within seconds—which means you need Enjin’s constant protection, whether you like it or not.
Enjin ends up spending less time drinking or chasing women, finding a far more amusing pastime instead—the way your face twists in indignation every time the Ground doesn’t live up to your so-called “noble standards.”
He gets a kick out of it, really. Agitating you on purpose, just to watch you squirm.
“Goddamnit, Enjin! Watch it!”
You’d shriek every time your short skirt went flying from a sudden gust of wind he’d whip up with Umbreaker. Enjin saves that lil trick for No Man’s Land when the others’ backs are turned.
“That’s Enjin-sensei to you, Princess.”
“Choke—slowly, Trashy Poppins.”
You’d lunge for his mask like you actually meant to rip it off, but at 6 '3, Enjin’s tall enough that you never have a chance at reaching it. It’s all worth it too—Enjin’s already got every pastel scrap of lace you own burned into memory, each one tucked away like a reward for getting under your skin.
It’s a little sadistic, sure—the way he taunts you nonstop, delighting in soiling that polished image of yours to grind you into the dirt of the ground right along with him.
There’s a fire in your eyes every time Enjin dubs you as “Your Royal Trash Princess”—or just “TP” if he’s feeling lazy. You never fail to rise to his bait, eager to prove yourself—and prove him wrong.
Enjin feels he’s owed a bit of amusement for all his troubles.
Doesn’t mean anything.
Yet the more Enjin pushes, the harder it is to ignore that your bratty spark isn’t just an attitude problem. It’s energy. Real, raw passion. The kind that could actually cultivate anima. He sees it best when you’re snapping at him, flushed and defiant, too stubborn to back down.
It’s trouble to be sure, but fuck if Enjin doesn’t love coaxing it out of you.
All it took this time to get you going was him doubting your so-called knowledge of plants and remedies— “what kinda ‘floral herbalist’ hasn’t toked one?”
So now here you are, in the HQ lounge, about to smoke your first joint as a ‘pre-game’ to the happy hour Corvus organized for all the Cleaners.
You and Enjin sit shoulder to shoulder on a worn, black quilted-leather sofa that’s seen better days. The cushions creak as you nervously smooth your skirt and settle in, unhooking your jinki—Bubu—from your belt to set her gently on the table.
Enjin rolls a few joints with unhurried precision—like he’s got all the time in the world, and watching you squirm is part of the ritual.
“Bet ya didn’t have anything like this in your lil’ garden, eh TP?” Enjin quips, breaking the silence.
Nose already upturned, your face scrunches as Enjin tosses an extra bud from his stash into your open palms. You hated the nickname ‘TP’ most of all, too easily mistaken for ‘toilet paper’ and Enjin knows that.
You shoot Enjin a dirty look before letting your focus drift back to the brittle sprig in your hands—the first real plant you’ve touched since becoming a Ground-dweller.
You think you actually recognize it.
Back on the Sphere, your family was among the wealthiest, and your garden was massive. You took pride in your green thumb—like Delmon, whose garden you’ve been meaning to ask about. You want to help, if only to see what kind of plants can survive in conditions this toxic. But Enjin never gives you the space—always hovering, always cutting in before you can finish a full conversation.
You brush off those thoughts but your frown stays as your fingers trace the bud’s dry veins. Even for a dehydrated sample, it feels wrong—brittle in a way that hints of sickness.
“Hmm. We had something like this—I think. But it’s just another weed.” You say shrugging.
“Heh,” Enjin smirks at your cluelessness, “Would you believe me if I told you ‘weed’ is exactly what we call it, Princess?”
You roll your eyes at the inordinately simple name. It probably has a proper scientific designation—but expecting Enjin to know it? Please.
“We always uprooted them—weeds are unsightly in gardens, you know. A weed, let alone one sick as this, would definitely be pruned right away so as to not syphon nutrients from the other plant life.”
“HAH?!”
Mid-seal on his joint, Enjin stops cold, staring at you like you just dared to commit some sort of sacrilege before exhaling a theatrical sigh, shaking his head in pure betrayal.
He can’t believe Spherities are probably pissing away the dankest shit ever cultivated. The thought was maddening.
When Enjin’s eyes do meet yours again, there's no amusement as he takes a rather chastising tone with you.
“Princess, for your own good, never repeat that in front of anyone down here…I mean it.”
You huff, but Enjin doesn’t blink—just starts sealing the joint again, eyes never leaving you as his tongue drags slowly across the edge of the paper.
You squirm, and that’s all the reward he needs.
“See somethin’ you like?” Enjin drawls, holding the finished joint out toward you like it’s a gift—and not a trap with your name written all over it.
Turning on teacher mode, Enjin decides to school you.
“I know we mostly have ‘reggie’ down here, but still, it’s worth its weight in gold for its purposes. Not just for fun ya know—chronic pain, nausea, anxiety—gives a bit of relief from the ailments of Abyss-living you Spherites have so graciously bestowed on us.”
From his pocket, Enjin produces a lighter, shoulders curling as he bows into the flame to set it alight.
Your eyes flick over the sinewy stretch of Enjin arms, the way his jacket strains across his shoulders—reminding you just how solid Enjin really is beneath all that shapeless fabric. Built like a weapon, hiding in plain sight.
You watch as his ringed fingers lift the joint to his lips. Drawing in a slow, steady breath, Enjin sinks back into the sofa like gravity’s got a tighter hold on him than usual. Smoke pools in his chest before slipping out in a long, deliberate exhale.
His gaze follows it, distant—like he’s chewing on thoughts far heavier than anything you said… but somehow still set off by it.
“That’s the problem with you Spherites….you don’t see things the way they are—you see things the way you are.”
Enjin chuffs at his own words, closing his eyes to let his high settle. Not even completely stoned yet and he’s already spouting off pseudo philosophical one-liners.
“Everything else is collateral, amirite?”
Ouch.
Toeing at the floor, you sulk in silence. Wounded from the verbal licks Enjin just dealt you. Mulling over his words in silence though, you know it isn’t that simple. Horticulture can be complicated even in the most ideal conditions. Just because a plant is viable doesn’t mean it belongs in every garden—some plants are just incompatible.
However…
You sit silently, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you study the brittle bud in your palm.
…that doesn’t make it worthless.
Instead of exploring any potential use, you tossed the so-called "weed" out—just like everything else the Sphere deemed useless. Not even considering how valuable it could be. You can see why Enjin wouldn't want you repeating that mistake. Enough people already looked at you with disdain as it is.
Sure there’s a lot of things you miss about it, mostly superficial things that had to do with vanity, but overall life up there was super sterile and dull. You’d never say it out loud but you are glad you fell, it was hard on the ground but it was liberating.
Sighing, you quietly concede. You hate anytime Enjin actually has a point though. It’s the worst thing imaginable—for your pride and for his already unbearable ego.
Cracking an eye open, Enjin curses under his breath. Switching tactics, he decides to replace the long look on his Trash Princess’s face. Annoyance would do just fine. Besides, there was no need for you to pout over it, you actually had a shot at redemption here… heh, the kind that might just work out in his favor, too.
“Y’knowwwww, we’re always learnin’ better ways to grow things down here, faster too...”
Enjin moves so quietly, you don’t realize how close he is until you turn—and he’s right in your face, barely a breath away. Swiping his ringed thumb across your cheek, Enjin’s touch is surprisingly tender. However his expression is entirely obnoxious, full of amusement from how fast your pouty little face flusters.
“...could be a nice little hobby that would do alotta good…and if anyone could figure out how to grow this shit properly down here—”
Enjin plucks at the heat of your warm cheeks, pinching just enough to tease and drag the moment into something more lighthearted.
“—I do believe it could be you—Trash Princess.”
Your eyes catch something deeper than just teasing in his golden gaze—but before you can dwell on it, instinct kicks in. You jerk back, swatting his hand away, shoving whatever that was out of your mind.
Enjin just laughs, unbothered, as you glare at him.
“And why can’t you get Delmon to do it?” you counter, arms folding across your chest. By now, you’ve learned Enjin usually has an angle for everything.
Right on the mark, for a beat, Enjin actually pauses. He hadn’t expected you to bring up the obvious—Delmon, the gentle giant practically martyred to the idea of saving what’s left of the Abyss. But Enjin’s roguish grin slips back into place, spreading wider as he leans in, unapologetically invading your space.
“Why? Well...’cause I asked you, Princess. The ol’lug has enough on his plate as it is. You can handle it alone, can’t ya?”
Truthfully, even knowing your interest in Delmon never strays beyond roots and soil, it still irks every time Enjin catches sight of you with him. You look every bit the noble—graceful, composed, eyes soft and curious as you gaze up at Delmon, eager to learn. It grates on Enjin more than he’d admit, knowing he’s never once gotten that look, despite monopolizing most of your time.
“Ya know—unless, your skillset just ain’t up t’par?” Enjin finishes with a shrug.
Wholly unconvinced, you see this for the bait it is from a mile away. Nevertheless, you can’t deny that you are eager to get even the tiniest bit of normalcy back in your life from your old hobbies. Planting something, anything, would be nice—even if it ends up being contraband for Enjin. Although you still aren’t quite sure why you can’t consult Delmon.
“Ugh! Fine!”
You fall back onto the sofa and Enjin follows, his arm settling behind you, practically draped around your shoulders. You don’t even flinch. He takes another slow hit, smoke curling toward the ceiling, but this time there’s a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you. Deciding he’s babysat the joint long enough, he leans in with a lazy smirk and holds it out to you.
“Enjin—your eyes!” You blurt out, disregarding his invitation. “Is that just from smoking!? I can’t go to happy hour looking like some kinda zombie!”
Enjin sputters mid-laugh, coughing as wisps of smoke leak from the corners of his smart ass grin.
“Eh, well duh. Why else would they get so red when I smoke?”
Enjin coughs out a few more chuckles. You roll your eyes.
“I don’t know, Trashy Poppins…I didn't make the connection since the air quality down here is 80% pollution! You could have anything.”
While Enjin is amused by your sass, the joint continues to burn down. Each second unsmoked is wasting precious bud. Leaning in, his voice drops to a low purr—the kind that makes your stomach flip.
Heh, time to pull out the big guns.
“Aht-aht-aht, c’mon now, Princess, you know the golden rule…”
You sigh, thinking you need that happy hour drink more than ever right now.
“You’re not serious.”
But you know he is, and of course you remember the silly motto Enjin makes an unspoken rule for his team. Although he mostly just uses it to get you to do something you’ll usually regret later. You sigh, knowing you’ll never make it to happy hour until you appease the big man-child in front of you.
Enjin’s golden eyes shine with even more mischief than before and together like some damn mantra, you both repeat:
“...it’s not peer pressure—it’s just your turn.”
Resigned, you click your tongue, swiping at the joint in his hands. But Enjin is much faster as he pulls back with infuriating speed. You glower at him, snark locked and loaded.
“Nah, actually I’ll help you out since it’s your first time, Princess.”
Innuendo coils around his words, heat radiating off him as you tense under his gaze. You don’t want to argue with him though, the sooner you smoked, the sooner you both could be at happy hour.
“Open.”
Enjin’s fingers graze the corner of your mouth as he holds the joint to your peach-glossed lips, eyes darkening when you part them obediently for him.
“Now breathe it in, nice and slow…deeper. Yeah, that’s it—hold it. Don’t let go until I say—good girl.”
You want to scoff at him, but you can’t—not with tears stinging your eyes and smoke burning its way down your lungs. By the time Enjin gives you the nod to exhale, you’re already choking, coughing it all back up in ragged plumes.
Yeah, this was nowhere in hell as easy as Enjin made it look.
The buzz rises in your head almost instantly, an airy haze creeping into your consciousness.
“See? Not a terrible cherry pop, eh?”
The glare you throw at Enjin is more of a squint. Still recovering from the fire tearing down your throat, your coughs earn you a few heavy-handed smacks on the back from Enjin. If it’s out of comfort or mockery, you can't tell.
Everything in the room is spinning and becoming more distant, like a daydream.
“Easy there, breathe—it’ll hit easier when ya figure out how to grow it right, Princess. The dank shit won’t burn this hard.”
You want to bite back that even if you do figure out how to grow the damn ‘weed’ plant, you’d never touch it again. But the sudden heaviness seeping into your limbs drags you down, tilting your head on the axis of equilibrium.
“I think, no—I know, I need to lay down.”
Not waiting for permission, you flop down onto the worn cushions beneath you, curling up awkwardly with your head leaning against the armrest and your legs dangling off the seat at an angle.
Enjin doesn’t miss a beat though—he scoops your legs into his lap, tugging off your boots so you can be comfortable.
Leaning back, perfectly at ease, Enjin holds the joint in one hand while the other rests on your stocking-covered shin, giving it a casual, reassuring pat. The way your arm drapes over your face tells him everything—yeah, you’ve got the spins.
“Keh, you’ll make it, Princess. Just let it all ride out.”
You’d make it alright, but not to happy hour anytime soon. Enjin supposes he might’ve let you take a bigger hit than you were ready for.
Whoops.
Silence stretches in the aftermath but it’s not uncomfortable. Enjin takes a few more lazy tokes, one golden eye cracked open just enough to watch you, taking stock of your state.
It’s in moments like this—rare ones, when you’re quiet—that he remembers just how fucking smoking hot you are.
Especially in that Cleaner uniform. Man, God bless August.
The eccentric tailor took special care in designing it thanks to a sudden burst of inspiration—August even convinced Enjin to allow him to keep some of the trim from your Spherite clothes that he repurposes. The outcome of your uniform is shinier, more fitted and much sluttier than standard issue.
You took to it immediately, without much fuss and actually complimenting August. That was August’s gift though—whipping up pieces to suit even the finickiest of tastes—and Enjin had to admit, the man did his big one.
But the real surprise wasn’t the craftsmanship. It was you—his oh-so-prim little Trash Princess—strutting around in something so damn naughty. Dressed up like a treat that Enjin can’t help but eat up with his eyes.
And whaddya know? Enjin has the munchies bad right now.
Left to his own devices, Enjin takes his time devouring the sight in front of him. His gaze lingers down the length of your legs sprawled across his lap, to the soft, exposed flesh of your thighs—spilling over the edge of your stockings just enough to make his jaw clench.
Fuck, they look so soft. He can't help but wonder how they'd feel locked around his head as his eyes climb to the next indulgence—your crop top. Rucked up to your ribs, the thin white cotton hugs just beneath your tits. Shit, the way your cute little nips poke through the fabric makes his mouth twitch with the urge to say ‘hi’ right back—with his tongue.
Is it hotter in here, or—?
Leering at you for too long is a surefire way for Enjin to pop a boner. Enjin knows he’s not alone in that either. That uniform of yours turns heads in every city you pass through. Consequently, Enjin has split more skulls because of idiots trying to hit on you or cop a feel than he ever has for anyone trying to snatch a Spherite.
Not that he’s jealous or nothing.
Nah. Just doing his job. Watching out for you. Plenty of unscrupulous assholes out there willing to pounce on a clueless little thing like you.
However, right now, Enjin’s just as unscrupulous—‘watching out’ only for a flash of your panties as each restless wiggle sinks you deeper into the lumpy cushions, bunching your skirt higher and teasing him with a glimpse of skimpy lace.
Man, just a little more and he’d know exactly which pair you picked today.
Sobering up a bit more, you sigh at your inability to get comfortable when you could feel the very springs in the sofa. Stretching, you straighten your leg suddenly and—
“Yo! Watch the feets, girl!”
Though there’s amusement in his voice as he jolts upright, tatted hands grabbing your ankle before you’re able to land another blow.
“Ah, sorry—” You mutter sheepishly, reeling back your foot. “I didn’t mean to kick Umbreaker.”
For what it’s worth, the apology comes quickly—you’ve learned better than to mess with a man’s jinki, especially Enjin’s. You've nearly tripped more times than you can count over that bulky extension of himself that he always keeps within reach.
You know it’s serious too when he doesn’t even bother with the stupid nicknames he usually calls you. Nevertheless, you’re left puzzled when Enjin’s laughter comes out loud and sharp.
“...that wasn’t Umbreaker, Princess.”
Huh? What does he mean that isn’t—
You freeze.
Carefully peeking out from under your arm, your reddened eyes squint down the length of your body and onto his. When the realization does set in of what exactly you kicked, it smacks you harder than any hit of ganja ever could.
“O…oh…—OH MY GAWD!”
Immediately springing upright, your vertigo swirls with how fast you’re scrambling to your knees as you gawk.
Time passes for what seems like a solid minute or two and neither of you speak.
You’re staring at the crotch of Enjin’s baggy pants and Enjin is staring at you.
“Heh.”
The devious look on Enjin’s face right now could shame the devil himself. Yet you’re still in utter disbelief.
There’s no way that’s his dick!
Still, your brain won’t stop running the numbers—high girl math with clumsy calculations drawn from the fleeting brush of your toes against the long, thick mass hidden beneath the fabric of his baggy pants. Enjin’s words ring in your mind like a gong—‘that wasn’t Umbreaker…’
“You’re burnin’ a hole through my dick, Princess—”
Enjin’s voice unfurls seductively, like the smoke curling from his lips.
“—keep starin’ like that and I’m gonna think you wanna see it.”
Your eyes meet his dead-on.
“I do.”
“Yeah, I’m sure yo—wait, come again?!”
Enjin’s grip goes slack, the joint slipping from his fingers. He was halfway to some sassy quip, ready to taunt your denial—but your delivery is so honest, with no teasing or angle to play off, he doesn’t know what to do with it.
The embers hiss against his thigh before he even registers he dropped it.
“Tch.” Cursing under his breath, he flicks it aside—it’s all roach anyway—and tries to pull himself back together.
You’re fucking with him. Yeah. That’s it.
Smug again, Enjin leans into the bit you started.
“Ha ha…right. I know my stuck up lil’ Trash Princess isn’t asking to give me a dick inspection…”
Enjin adjusts his pants in a casual sweep that doesn’t fool either of you. He’s not brushing off the remaining flakes of ash—he’s palming his restless cock that jumped at the idea of you actually wanting to see it.
But both you and Enjin would quickly discover, despite your snobby Spherite upbringing, you lose any type of filter and sense of couth while high—blurting out your thoughts unabashedly.
“I said I wanted to see it, Trashy Poppins. Or m’not gonna believe you’re actually that big.”
You fold your arms, huffing stubbornly.
There was no way an unbearably annoying man like Enjin was slanging actual horse cock!
He had to be the one fucking with you here.
Well, wait, no—a cocky, stupidly sexy man having a big dick actually tracks, now that you think about it.
But still—you need to verify. For science, if nothing else.
Yeah. Science.
Enjin blinks, taking stock of you—kneeling close, your tits straining like they’re about to burst free, and your skirt rides so high on your thighs this time, he swears one more millimeter and he’d see your panties for real.
“C’mon now…”
Your sickly sweet coos needle at Enjin’s spine.
“...as if you aren’t always upskirting me just to see my panties.”
Shit. You knew it was intentional?
“At least you can show me your undies for a change. If you’re really that big, then I’ll be able to tell.”
The spark alight in your eyes is a challenge to Enjin, who loves pushing your limits. Now he needs to know how far you’ll go. Even if he’s completely unprepared for this turn of events, he’s sure as fuck not gonna be the one backing down first.
“S’that right, Princess? Well, I haven’t even seen yours today so—”
Enjin doesn’t even get the chance to finish before you’re lifting your skirt and spreading your knees wider. You stare up at the ceiling, the popcorn squares suddenly appearing super interesting to you. Enjin’s eyes however immediately zero-in on the pink lace stretched tight across your pussy.
Christ.
With a much closer view, Enjin picks up all the little details he usually misses—like how the hem digs into your soft curves or how the material is thin enough to see the split of your chubby lil pussy lips pressed underneath.
Goddamn, are you intentionally buying them a size too small?
Or is your pussy print just that fat?
Enjin gulps, mouth dry.
His attention caught like a hook to your cunt, everything else is unimportant—including the irony of how he was just teasing you for the very same thing—it’s all utterly lost on him. His priorities shifting rapidly the longer he ogles you.
After a minute, giving him quite frankly more of his fill than he deserves, you let your skirt drop back into place. The alluring spell of your fatma breaks when your knees snap shut and Enjin is yanked back to a world that doesn’t exist between the apex of your doughy thighs.
All of his lecherous starring is worth it though—if only to be able to throw his own saying back at him for once.
“Now, how’s it go again? It’s not peer pressu—”
“—Yeah, yeah, I got it, Princess—My turn.”
Enjin relents, cutting you off with a twisted grin as he shakes his head.
“Ya don’t gotta break my arm to see my dick, babe. Just makin’ sure you’re sure. Don’t need you runnin’ off telling Semiu I flashed ya.”
Semiu is already on Enjin’s ass for teasing you as much as he does. Something about him being ‘too grown’ not to ‘nut up’ and ‘come to terms with his reality’, but Enjin was never listening for long, zoning out as soon as a new lecture was underway.
However, if your prissy ass really wants to see his dick that bad, of course he’d oblige. Hell, Enjin would get another kick outta watching your horror when you realize for real just how much he’s packing. It had been a minute since he'd seen that look on a woman.
For being as hot and charming as he is, Enjin didn’t get nearly as much play as he should’ve. He isn’t a virgin by any means, but too many women take one glance at his size and back off expeditiously.
Life on the ground meant hustling to survive for most. Nobody could afford to be laid up for days just because Enjin’s wrecking ball of a cock tore through their walls, rendering them unable to walk—let alone go to work.
Yet with a clink, that all changes as the leather strap of his belt and gear slides free. Enjin lifts his hips enough to shove his pants down past his thighs and there it is—short red boxer briefs with a black waistband, the fabric stretched thin over the obscenely long, thick outline of his dick resting along his thigh.
Simply put, your jaw drops. There’s a static-like silence buzzing in your mind as you process the monstrous mass of phallic muscle before you.
You’ve never seen a dick that huge in your entire life.
Clocking your shock, Enjin’s chest puffs like he’s just been crowned a king in the room.
“Relax, Princess…” he drawls, smugness saturating every word.
“I ain’t even all the way hard yet.”
Bullshit!
Your eyes pingpong between his face and his cock before landing on the obvious conclusion—no overthinking this time.
“What are you waiting for then? Get hard.”
Enjin actually chokes for real this time, still not used to how blunt his demure lil’ Trash Princess gets when she’s high. He manages to laugh regardless once he finds his breath as he sure as hell doesn’t hate this new side of you.
“Hah?! It doesn’t work like that ya know…”
Enjin lies right through his fucking teeth.
Just hearing that vulgar command from your prissy lil’ lips has his blood surging south, his cock swelling at rapid speed. Already on go, his dickprint thickens, straining against the fabric until threads stretch thin to form almost obscenely over him like second skin.
Yet unlike his past hookups you don’t flinch at the sight of him getting even bigger.
There’s more than enough incredulousness on your face for sure, but Enjin half expected you to backpedal for the sake of your pussy’s self-preservation and book it out the door. Instead, the look you’re giving his dick is more akin to awe than fear.
Truly, though—you are in awe.
Men weren’t like this on the Sphere. Well, your husband certainly wasn’t.
Older than you by over a decade, your husband’s stamina was so poor he never lasted long. His size, his endurance, and his dismissive comments about your sexual appetite being perversely unbecoming for a lady of your station had you wondering if something was wrong with you this entire time—if you expected too much from sex.
But when your eyes drift back to Enjin—catching the thick vein running along his length, visible even through the fabric—you know better now.
It was never you.
The realization brings a surge of boldness. Your gaze trails the pulse of his cock down to the wet patch blooming at the tip—so much pre spilling it seeps through the fabric.
Enjin inhales sharply through his nose. He knows he’s proven his size, but your silence and the way you’re eyeing his cock like some kind of museum exhibit is starting to get to him.
Enjin doesn’t want to back down as he impatiently waits for your final verdict of approval. But if you keep staring at him like that, with those big pretty eyes of yours, he’s going to come in his pants, untouched, like some fucking cuck.
“Well, Princess? Big enough for ya?”
You don’t even hear Enjin, too lost in your own thoughts. Your body, buzzed and reckless, has a mind of its own though. Reaching out, your hand leaves your lap to trace the thick ridges of his cock, mapping its shape through his briefs.
“Oh, shiiii—” Enjin hisses.
His lip catches between his teeth as all thoughts vanish the moment your delicate little fingers start stroking him.
“Argh—fuck. Can’t jus’ go grabbing a man’s dick like that ya know.”
Yet Enjin does nothing to stop you as your touch grows bolder. Your palm flattens around his girth—too thick for even your whole hand to wrap around, even through his boxers.
How would someone even get something that monstrous inside them!?
Encircling his leaky cockhead, you giggle as your index finger slowly tap-tap-taps the mess he’s made there, amused at how many of the small, sticky suds you can gather on your finger through the material.
Enjin’s own laugh is strangled. This can’t be real.
You’re unfazed by Enjin’s provocations – too mesmerized by the obscenely large cock in front of you that has you squirming uncomfortably as your own panties turn swampy with heat.
“May I?”
Meeting Enjin’s gaze, your polite innocence is accented by a wide-eyed pout that’s far too sweet for the filthy implications of your request. Like you’re nicely asking permission to play with your favorite toy—except you don’t even wait for him to give it,fingers impatiently snapping the edges of his waistband like some cockhungry slut.
“Uh…” Enjin blanks while his dick is practically screaming at him to respond—even a damned head nod would suffice. Yet his brain blue-screens as it registers that look—the normally innocent, curiosity filled look that he's been craving since he found you in No Man's Land—now twisted into something debased and filthy. And best of all?
Meant just for him.
Enjin’s so fucking hard right now it’s painful—and hell, if you’re planning to do something about that, he’s not about to stop you.
“Keh. Do you, boo.”
Enjin manspreads, giving you full access. You eagerly pull down his shorts just enough to release his cock, and it springs free, thick and heavy.
Good God, he’s a big boy!
Although you knew that, seeing the monster in all of its unleashed glory was an entirely different experience. Enjin’s dick bobs back to curve towards his abs, a shiny pubic piercing shining at his base under its shadow.
Panting, your previously dormant inner size queen activates. You have to swallow down the bucket of saliva collecting on your tongue before you choke—you can’t help but salivate at the thought of what a huge cock like this tastes like… what it feels like.
You’re pretty sure it could break you in two, and surprisingly, the thought excites you.
Lowering yourself on all fours, the first tentative lick you give Enjin’s length has his toes curling as he grips the sofa, ripping a chunk clean off the decaying material.
You moan out a depraved 'ahhh' once you reach the top, a little smile playing on your lips as you tongue down the hole at his tip. Greedily, you lap up all the little dribbles of pre beading at the tip and flowing out.
“W-Woaaah—ugh. FUCK!”
Enjin’s hand flies into your hair as he clears his throat. Sure, your mouthwatering stares made a blowie likely, but diving in this shamelessly? It’s enough to make him feel like he’s losing his damn mind.
You grip his base—an insurance policy to keep him from cumming—while your other hand cups his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. His thigh jolts beneath you and you simper at how sensitive he is despite his massive size.
“T-There’s no way in hell they taught your prissy ass how to be this much of a slut up there.”
Pouting, you release his balls to cradle his cockhead against your puffed up cheek, uncaring of the amount of pre seeping across your jaw.
“D-Do…do you hate it? My hus—um, ex said it was a turn off. H-he'd say I have 'the depravity of a slums streetwalker.”
Staring up at Enjin, your eyes are clouded with lust, yet edged with worry—like he’d threatened to rip something precious away. But it’s only his cock you’re coddling tighter against your cheek, your lips parting just enough to chase the beads of pre that drip close to your mouth.
If you weren’t gripping Enjin’s base so hard he definitely would have blown a load all over your face. Fuck, if the thought isn’t tempting to him though – he doesn’t think you’d even mind in this state.
Goddamn, you’re so much sluttier than Enjin could have ever imagined.
And he’d imagined it plenty.
Especially on nights Enjin stumbled back to HQ drunk and alone, having closed down the bar with Corvus and Gris. Left to sate his own booze-fueled boner, he’d shamelessly rut into his pillow. Yet, no matter where his perversions strayed, every faceless fantasy in the dark insisted on transmuting into you.
You seriously think he couldn’t match your freak?
Oh, sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.
“Hate it?”
Enjin holds back the growl building at the back of his throat. There’s a torrent of thoughts swirling with his high all at once—all coming to settle right back into his dick.
“Never. Show me who you really are, Princess—n’ I’ll give it right back to ya tenfold—that’s a promise.”
If you weren’t already trembling with arousal—finally free to let your freak flag fly—you might’ve shied away. Enjin’s easy acceptance of you stirs something deeper, something messy that you usually ignore before it can settle. Now, with his scent thick on your face and tongue, you’re not thinking at all—aching with the urge to all but inhale his cock.
You merely nod, flashing Enjin a coy smile before stretching your plush lips to wrap around him. Slowly, you swallow down his girth, mouth hot with suction so deliciously moist Enjin’s hips jerk up. You gag, but his firm grip on your roots keeps your head in place, forcing his length to breach your throat.
“That’s it, baby…open up f-f’er me—g-good fucking girl, Princess…”
Tears prick at your eyes as his cock pounds back of your throat. The stretch is brutal—but some desperate part of you craves more of his filthy praise. What you can’t take with your mouth, your hands make up for—stroking every thick inch your lips can’t swallow.
“Shiiiit, girl! You’re a pro at this.”
If you ask Enjin later, he’d probably call you a throat goat, however most of your “experience” came from the smutty paperbacks high-society wives hid in corsets and swapped under tea tables—not actual practice. You don’t really know what you are doing. You’re just following the book's explicit instructions.
Still, Enjin doesn’t seem to mind being your test dummy.
On the contrary, Enjin is more than happy to let you do your thing and he does just that. Although, the longer your head bobs along his cock, the more your skirt rides up—until it finally flips over your hips, giving him a perfect view of the cheeky lace framing your ass.
Enjin groans, gripping your ass with bruising force before sliding his fingers down to palm your pussy over your panties—fuck, you’re already dripping for him.
“Hah—uppity cunt gets this sloppy just from a lil’ dick sucking, eh?”
Enjin laughs, yet the gravel rattling in his voice betrays him. No one has ever fearlessly tried to deepthroat him and actually fucking enjoyed it.
Unable to respond with your mouth, too busy still trying to do the impossible and fit more inside your throat, your hips respond instead—wiggling desperately against his fingers, begging for more of his touch.
Enjin doesn’t hesitate. Slipping a tatted finger into your panties, he drags it through your folds, marveling at how wet and scorching you are. Pushing into your core, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his digit.
Oh fuck, even his fingers are big!
A second ringed finger follows – the rough, callous fingers of a man who's seen too many fights scrape so good against all your gooey spots. Lewd squelches echo from your pussy as your throat tightens around him in tandem. The sounds, the squeeze, the heat—all of it is driving him crazy.
Shit he’s gonna cum for real this time.
To his credit, Enjin tries to warn you—tries to pull you off before it’s too late.
He doesn’t wanna risk pissing you off and having you refuse to ever do this again. Enjin still wants to fool around more;, he wants to fuck you. It’s that thought—your pretty pussy lips splitting open to swallow him instead—that has him busting his hot seed down your throat in thick, hot pulses.
“HAHH—FUHH!”
Releasing your hair, Enjin half expects you to pull away, furious he hadn’t warned you. Instead, your nails dig into his thigh, steadying yourself. You moan around him, the vibrations rippling through his sensitive cock while you work him for every last drop, his hips jerking beneath you.
Only when you’re certain you’ve drained him do you pull back, swollen lips coming off his cock with a wet pop.
“Allll go-neee S-Sheee? HAhhhhh~♡”
Tits jiggling as you heave for air, you present your tongue to Enjin as proof you’ve swallowed all of him. Every. Filthy. Drop.
You can’t help but agree—your throat’s wrecked and your pussy’s aching to be used just as thoroughly. Enjin’s fingers aren’t inside you any more, although they are still on your pussy, running through your folds absentmindedly.
“Ngh—n-eed m-more,” you slur.
All your decorum was lost to the wind the moment you asked to see his dick—you don’t even care that it’s Enjin of all people that you just gave head to. Suddenly, the obnoxious pain in your ass seems like your only deliverance. Right now, you're more frustrated that you've spent so much time bickering with him when you could have been fucking him.
You much prefer his moans to anything else coming out of his mouth.
You need him to get hard again—immediately!
Enjin, mind mushy with release, takes another joint out to light. As much as he wants to return the favor after that kind of sloppy top, the man needs a minute. His high has his whole body tingling from the post release sensitivity.
But you can’t wait any longer. It’s been god knows how long since you’ve had a proper orgasm and those were only from your own small, fumbling fingers. Throat achy and raw, you quiver at the masochistic thought of how his cock is going to absolutely obliterate your pussy.
You slide your panties down before flinging off your jacket and top. Taking a seat on Enjin's lap, you're now clad in just your bra, your skirt that's bunched up at your hips, and thigh highs. Grabbing his cock, you give his soggy, half-hard girth a few encouraging pumps.
Your pussy is already slobbering, a viscous string of syrupy slick drips down from your slit to land on his cockhead, connecting you to him as you line him up.
Feeling your fingers around his length, Enjin's eyes fly open, balancing the joint between his lips as he quickly shrugs off his own jacket, checking the pockets.
“Woah, woah. Slow your roll there sweetheart—you’re skipping a few steps.”
You aren’t listening though, not giving a fuck what Enjin is talking about as you cry out, grinding your clit against his fat tip, before running it back through your folds.
Enjin grits his teeth, coughing out smoke as he holds the joint in one hand and your hips in the other. You’re being a brat again, not listening to a single word he’s saying.
“Gotta find my rubbers…also gotta stretch you out better, Princess—you’re gonna split in two if I don’t.”
You whimper, petulant and needy. You press his cockhead against your entrance, swiveling your hips like you’re going to recklessly sink down on him at any second.
“Huh? Rubbers?” You shake your head in confusion, pouting. “m’Ennnnjiiiiin…I can’t wait that long—puh-leaseee don’t make me wait s’long, Enjiiiiin. I can take it, promiseee!”
The way you sweetly coo his name is shattering any sense of self-control Enjin has left. The urge to submit you to the ultimate corruption surges hot through his veins, but Enjin knows how big he is and while he did want to break you, he didn’t want to hurt you in the process. You are absolutely nuts to want to ride him with so little prep—now, on top of everything else, you apparently wanted him to fuck you raw.
Wait—did you just ask what rubbers were? Did you not have condoms on the Sphere?
But any lingering concerns dissipate the second you start fighting to get his tip inside you.
“Too s-slow!” You groan.
Fear is the last thing on your mind—evident in the way you impale yourself on him, defiant even against the impossible stretch. Your pussy is tight around the swollen head of his cock, strangling it as your nails dig into his shoulders. You grind in slow, desperate circles. Tears roll down your cheeks as you bite them to keep from crying out, your body fighting against every inch.
Enjin watches with a dark glint in his eyes – you trying so hard for him makes him want to flip you over and fuck you into the cushions. But he’d let you have it at your own pace…for now.
Releasing your hip, Enjin spits into his palm, rubbing his slick fingers over your clit in slow steady circles.
“Such a hard-headed girl—c’mere…”
Enjin takes a long drag from the joint, balancing it between his fingers as he grabs the back of your neck. His lips crash into yours before you can think.
You gasp and Enjin takes the opportunity to exhale the smoke deep into your lungs, taking the harshest of the hit himself. You're left with only the smooth, earthy flavor warming your chest before it melts through your limbs.
But it’s the way he kisses you after that really knocks the ground out from under you. His tongue pushes past your lips, tangling with yours—hungry, messy, like he wants to steal the little air you have left until you’re only breathing him in.
Your arms wrap around his neck, hands buried in his soft buzzed undercut, anchoring yourself. You moan into his mouth and he swallows it greedily, teeth nipping your lower lip before diving right back in. All the while, his thumb keeps grinding into your clit, faster now, like he’s keeping rhythm with the pulse that’s beating under your skin.
Why does it feel this good? How is he doing this to your body? S’not fair!
Not realizing you could feel this good from a kiss, you're unraveling in real time. Your mind goes blank with every pulse, every word, every inch. You’re not even fully seated yet, but you can already feel the blunt head of his cock grinding against your cervix, the pressure building with each centimeter you drop. You never imagined you could feel this full—like he might actually breach your womb.
The thought alone has you trembling, unstable, your aching thighs giving out, causing you to slide down a bit too fast. The thick veins along his length rake across your g-spot and your body snaps. A sharp, helpless spasm rocks you as your breath catches and a small, unexpected orgasm rolls through you.
Enjin pulls back just enough to let you breathe, though your body doesn’t stop shivering, lost in a blur of pleasure and pain.
“Eh... did you just cum, Princess?”
The question is rhetorical, full of smug amusement, as he can feel the increasing wetness leaking down his cock, making it all the easier for you to slide down.
Teasing your earlobe, Enjin’s tongue dips in to flick at the shell of it, making you clench.
“HA! Good fucking girl! A lil’ more and I bet she’ll be a real squirter f’er me.”
Enjin beams, proud of his Trash Princess. No woman had ever taken him this deep—not even close. Enjin hadn’t expected you to be any different. And yet…when Enjin looks down, he releases a groan deep from his gut.
The sight alone almost has Enjin nutting in you -- your drooling cunt spread so wide around his girth, sitting almost at his base. A thought flashes briefly – it's kinda like he’s a virgin again. Parts of his dick had never experienced this kind of molten heat so maybe, in a sense, he is? Enjin didn’t fucking care if he was though, as he ain’t about to be with the way your pretty pussy is giving way like it’s made for him.
“Run that back.”
Enjin takes the final drag, pinching the smoldering end of the joint between his fingers before flicking it aside. He leans in again, slower this time. There’s no rush in how his mouth seals over yours. The second shotgun is less about the smoke and more about the feel of you—your lips parting for him, your breath syncing to his, and the small whimper you make as he sucks slowly on your tongue.
The haze spreads between you both, thick and warm. Simultaneously, his knuckles tease your clit, a soft schlick sound filling the space between you from you getting wetter by the second. By the strength of some unknown force, you finally bottom out, immediately collapsing into his neck.
You both moan. Enjin feels you quivering from the inside out and you feel him everywhere—shifting your guts into your ribs.
“I…I did it.”
Your smile blooms soft against his inked skin, lips grazing the spot where you can feel his own pulse hammering wildly.
Enjin’s in no state to congratulate you on your impressive feat. Completely sheathed in you raw, coring out your gummy walls into the shape of his dick—something in his brain chemistry fizzles. Like a bit of pussy juice, acting as a catalyst, slipped into his dick and traveled straight to his prefrontal cortex to corrode all of his previous thoughts about you. The result is clear.
Enjin doesn’t give a fuck if you are a snobby, annoying, needy lil’ brat who never let him get away with shit and bitches at him constantly—the furtherest thing from his type.
Because honestly?
Motherfuck a bullshit-ass type. Your slutty ass pussy is fuckin’ perfect.
For the first time, Enjin realizes he might be in love with you.
How could he even look at another woman after this?
One thing if for certain—Enjin is going to make damn sure you never have the desire to even look at another man.
Both his hands trail up your hips, groping and squeezing the plump curves of your ass before settling at your waist. His blunt black nails dig into your skin to pull you back from his neck.
Enjin whistles, admiring the stagnant stream of spittle lingering on your chin. Look at you—cockdrunk just from sitting on him.
Enjin doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look more beautiful.
“Enjiiiiiin,” you whimper, not being able to hold yourself up.
But your cries for him only inflame the predatory smirk on his lips, your honeyed cunt hugging his cock so beautifully.
“Makes sense you fell from heaven, huh Princess?”
Whether you're ready or not, Enjin forcibly winds you on his cock in slow circles. Your clit brushes up against the well placed pubic ring like a reward for being the first to experience it.
“—cause this pussy’s a fuckin’ angel.”
Your eyes are already lodged in your skull so you can’t even roll them at his cheesy line. But if your pussy is an angel, then Enjin's dick is most definitely a demon—his sinful cock tearing through your insides and condemning you straight to hell.
Moaning loudly, your body moves on autopilot—chasing more friction from the rhythm Enjin set. Good thing everyone was at happy hour or you would for sure be attracting some major attention now.
Although, to be honest you probably wouldn’t notice anyway. You don’t even notice when your bra falls away, your tits spilling out just so Enjin could watch them jiggle in his face. You only register its disappearance once his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his tongue finally saying it’s ‘hello’.
“Shiiiiit!”
Your hips stutter, then stall when Enjin tugs at your sensitive bud with his teeth.
“Hey…I know my Trash Princess ain’t tappin’ out just yet.”
SMACK!
Enjin brings a heavy palm down on your ass and your pussy clenches tighter around him. Enjin relishes the way your plush curves mold to his hands, each smack adding to the wet, messy sounds between you. You’ve already leaked enough on his lap to stain the sofa beneath you.
“Nah, ya just got on the ride, baby. Giddy-up.”
SMACK!
“NNNGH!” You weakly glare daggers at him.
Any softness on Enjin’s face has since been replaced by something far more mischievous. If you thought he was obnoxious before—you’re about to learn he’s a full-blown menace inside of pussy.
Wobbling, you gather together what little resolve you have left to roll your hips forward.
“HAAH! S’too biiiiiig,” you whine but your body can’t stop.
The juices saturated between you grant enough momentum to finally get a good, smooth bounce going.
“Fuck—that’s it, ride it like it’s yours, baby.” Enjin encourages you.
The way you cream harder every time he calls you 'baby' doesn't go unnoticed.
“Oh? You like me talking sweet to the pussy, baby girl?—Or do you just like being my filthy lil’ trash slut, hm Princess?”
Gritting your teeth, you grab on to Enjin’s shirt like reins, pulling him closer to you.
“Y-You’re…gonna—ahshiiiit—hafta f-fuck m’better than thisss…if you want m-me to be your ‘baby girl’—Trash Daddy.”
Unfortunately, your sass falls flat—you can barely keep your head from lulling to the side. But Enjin’s thoroughly entertained nonetheless—he’ll take ‘Trash Daddy’ over ‘Trashy Poppins’ any day.
“Bet.”
Electricity runs through Enjin. He’s all charged up—now it’s his turn to unleash.
Your brow furrows from the noise Enjin makes—you’re not sure if he just laughed or snarled. But it's the only warning you get.
Sliding down the sofa a bit, adjusting himself for stability, Enjin spreads his legs, planting his feet firmly on the floor as he bullies his cock up into you like he's breaking in his own personal fleshlight.
All you can do is go slack, falling forward on his chest. His grip bruising your hips, not allowing you to run from the way his blunt cockhead plows into your womb like a battering ram.
The couch beneath you groans, its frame creaking under the strain. The wood and leather protest like the entire thing might fall apart at any moment.
“Enjinnnnn, m’slowwww dowwwnnn!”
Your cries only fuel his frenzy and Enjin knows from the way you’re gushing on him you can take it.
Fuck—this sweet lil’ pussy is just so good for him. Imagine if he never met you.
If you never—
Enjin cuts the thought off cold.
Moving before you can blink—your world flips. One second he’s pummeling up into you, the next you’re on your back.
Enjin peels away his shirt, muscles flexing as he looms over you. His hands curl around your ankles to keep them pinned overhead. A single bead of sweat catches your bleary eyes as it slides down his bare chest, gliding over firm muscle. The bold ink patterns seem to come alive on his skin. He looks so fucking sexy right now and you can’t help but to shamelessly ogle him.
Yet, there’s something much too serious and somber about Enjin’s current demeanor. You’ve been staring at him far too long to go unnoticed. The highly expressive, sassy powerhouse is rarely this silent. He should be teasing you right now, asking some smartass shit like if you’re ‘enjoying the view’.
“Enjin?”
Your sweet voice hits his ears and instantly you have his attention again. Enjin flashes you a pearly white smile.
“Heh, enjoy the break, Princess? You wont get another.”
Ignoring the question in your eyes, Enjin folds you into a mating press, thrusting to the hilt all in one motion. The sound of flesh lewdly slapping against flesh fills the room, as do your cries.
But there’s still something else burning in his eyes. Enjin knows it’s unfair not to be honest with you, but taking out his unspoken feelings on your pretty pussy is the only way he can express himself at the moment.
Suddenly, there’s a loud creak followed by a decisive snap and two of the sofa’s legs give out. If your sweat and cum weren't like glue on the old leather you’d surely slide off head first. You yell out in alarm, but Enjin doesn’t give a fuck about the damn sofa.
His mood is still soured by the thought that wouldn’t be shaken away until he confronted it—
If you never fell.
But you did. He found you—and now that Enjin has you under him like this, he needs to fuck the point he’s concluded into you:
If Rudo ever finds a way to the Sphere, Enjin will personally travel there and see to your ex-husband himself.
Hell, he might even rail you in front of him a few times—show him what a real man could do. Maybe even a real…husband?
If the sounds of sloshing fluids and skin slapping skin weren't ringing so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else, you would have thought Enjin had lost his mind with the way he was cackling above you. He sounds completely deranged, laughing at the idea of him finally wanting to settle down all while continuing to pound you deeper into the broken sofa.
But despite being high off weed and your pussy, Enjin’s mind has never been more clear—he wants to lock you down.
“Hah… P-Princess, can ya feel me in your tummy? Right…” Enjin’s golden eyes lock on the ever-so-slightly distended bulge from the monstrous intrusion in your guts.
“....right, here.”
Throwing your legs over his shoulders, his large hands splay across your sweat sheened belly. You’re squirming under the heat of Enjin sandwiching your guts between his palm and his cock. Its all far too much—you’re too full, unable to really focus on what Enjin’s saying.
“Ahh, E-Enj—m’ c-cum, g-gonna mmm…” you hiccup, swallowing your tears.
Your nails rake down his arm to ground yourself but your body is thrumming too hard, adrift in the rush rolling through every one of your wired nerves. Your tits bounce obscenely every time your velvety walls devour his cock back down to the base. Enjin’s pubic piercing bucking against your clit has you clutching onto his dick like you were about to break it off.
You feel so fucking good. Enjin desperately needs to feel you creaming on his cock, and you would be soon if your kitten nails raking down his arms– adding more red to his already inked skin– were any indication.
“That’s it, Princess, hah—fuck, baby, I got you. Squirt for your Trash Daddy.”
As if on command, the knot inside you coils to its breaking point, prickling every nerve, releasing a warm rush of fluids. Your body tingling in ecstasy, you quickly tumble over your peak, eyes blinded by speckles of brightness as you cum.
Yet Enjin hasn't slowed, his continuous pounding forcing more of your cum and squirt to gush out of you—the melody of his now drenched balls colliding with your wet ass only growing loude
“Fuck, that’s it. Pussy cryin’ like she wants my cum, Princess…”
You’re barely conscious from all the pleasure, eyes rolling back into your head.
“She’s jealous that slutty throat of yours got all my cum, now it’s her turn to swallow, isn’t that right?”
It’s a rather roundabout way for Enjin to ask if he can nut inside you, but then again, he wasn’t really asking. The thought of breeding you makes him feral.
“Ahh—f’nnghhhh!”
Non-verbal and fucked dumb, you’d probably agree to anything right now. You’re an utter mess–pussy stretched beyond anything you thought possible, face sticky with slobber rolling down to pool in the folds of your neck.
“O’course it is…gonna dump all these trash babies into my princess’ sweet lil’ cunt.”
Although you are super turned on by the thought of Enjin breeding you, there's no way you have any idea how serious Enjin is about putting a baby in you. How could you? You don’t even realize the love confession his cock is professing to you.
“FUHHHH—take it!”
Enjin pumps thick ropes of his cum into your tummy as his body thrashes on top of yours. The primal intensity has you vibrating as another orgasm rips through your overstimulated and overworked pussy. Filled the brim, his spunk overflows, sploshing out of your pussy as he rocks his hips, urging his seed deeper to plant right in your womb.
In the afterglow, the two of you lie off-kilter in a tangled heap on the broken sofa. There’s blood rushing to your head— not the worst place for it, you think, all things considered. Enjin’s weight is heavy, his chest heaving into yours, warm and sticky as he wraps you in his arms.
Just as you feel you both might drift off like this, Enjin stirs. Flinching, you whimper as Enjin wills himself up, his cock sliding out of your pussy with a squelchy suctioning noise. Your knees part for him with zero resistance as he inspects his handiwork, peeling apart your battered pussy lips to reveal your dug out slit.
“Whewww,” Enjin whistles at the sight of the thick creampie glistening in your core. “All this cum your cute pussy pulled outta me—you’d think she was my jinki.”
Sober, you likely would have slapped him for referring to your pussy as his vital instrument. But ecstasy clouds your logic, so high off endorphins and other substances, you only giggle. It is kinda funny you suppose.
“Yeah—squirtin’ on command like that. Definitely an attack type.”
Spread open, the thick plug of spunk froths out of you. But Enjin simply tuts, pushing it right back in, not wanting to waste a single drop.
“Yeah, how about that, ’mma duel wielder! Yup, definitely gotta name ‘er now—what you thinkin’ I should call her, princess?”
Enjin sees the way your pretty cunny is twitching, and in his pussy drunk mind, it's an approval. The spasms that still quake through you are like tremors of Morse Code—your slutty pussy agreeing with him, begging for more. Flipping you over on your belly, Enjin is more than happy to fulfill any request of his new vital instrument.
“Got it! Cumbringer! The Umbreaker and The Cumbringer. Nice ring to ‘em, dont’cha think?”
Cumbringer!?
Later, you would definitely regret being so thoroughly fucked out of your mind you didn’t put a stop to this. Enjin is most definitely going to be insufferably proud of himself for the next 3-6 business weeks. He’d lord this over you and tease you with not-so-subtle hints around the rest of the cleaners.
Yet, as Enjin is swabbing his huge cock through your folds, you feel the ache of loss in your core, wanting to be filled again and you can’t seem to find the fucks to care—you just needed more of his dick, like…now.
Pleased with your compliance, Enjin thumbs the dips at the small of your back, perching your ass up so your back arches real nice.
“Trash Daddy’s gonna take real good care of Cumbringer from now on, too. Make ‘er live up to the name.”
When Enjin pushes into you again, the new angle has him bullying against your g-spot with even more intensity than before. Seeing the way you jolt, he holds back from going as deep this time to directly abuse the spot. Slick runs down your legs and despite how slippery the ruined leather cushions are beneath you, Enjin still holds you firm as his cock sloshes through your ruined pussy.
“Say, how much anima you think is in my nut, Princess?”
You don’t respond but Enjin, proving to have the stamina of a beast, feels like he should give you at least two more doses just to be sure.
⛓
Fading in and out of a euphoric stupor, you’re unsure how much time passes. Absolutely cockdrunk, at some point, you’d simply just surrendered. Your pussy clearly has zero complaints about being a jinki for Enjin’s cock and you are too dumb once you get a lil dick to stop him.
Somehow, you’ve ended up folded over the wide coffee table. It’s unstable beneath you, but Enjin doesn’t seem to care what he breaks when he’s fucking you. He only moved from the sofa when the back of it finally broke.
Straining, you think you hear voices but everything feels so far away and fuzzy. The room gets darker and you realize Enjin’s thrown his coat over you. Still sheathed deep inside you, Enjin’s cock plants lazy kisses to your womb as he speaks rather casually to someone.
Hmm, did he get a call? Is that Semiu?
Semiu is likely calling, wondering why you both haven’t shown up to happy hour yet—shit. There’s no way you’re making it in this condition; your limbs are toast. You can’t even move the weight of Enjin's bulky jacket off of you, the heavy material trapping you in the humidity of your own breath and sweat. But in a way, the warmth is comforting. Your cheek resting against the wood, you allow the tent of muggy heat and his cock moving languidly inside you to lull you into complacency— in your delirium, everything feels like a nice dream.
Yet Enjin is fully alert, a shit eating grin on his face as he stares down Semiu and Gris who had just walked in on Enjin shamelessly beating your doonies down. Enjin only spared your modesty by covering you up, but he has no qualms with either Gris or Semiu seeing him in all his glory and doesn’t even bother pulling out of you.
A fact that is painfully clear as he pats the pockets of his jacket draped over you for his cigs—he might as well smoke if he’s giving you a break.
“I win,” Semiu turns to Gris, hand out expectantly.
Semiu’s cool expression never changes but there is amusement in her eyes as Gris fishes into his pockets and places a stack of bills into her hand.
“Tsk, damn…” Gris shakes his head, although he’s not shocked.
The two of you are down so horrendously bad for each other that this should have happened long ago as far as everyone else was concerned. The tension has been at an unbearable level for those around you, the way the two of you picked at each other non-stop like a kid’s first crush.
Alas, you’re an airhead and Enjin is so stubborn he’s delusional. So the older Cleaner members couldn’t help, but place bets on when and where you and Enjin would finally slip between the sheets. Its a shame that you weren't in one of your beds right now--in between actual sheets--instead of the lounge becoming collateral damage.
“You know, after all the game you talked about winning your money back at poker tonight, Bro said you were a no-show because you knew you were gonna lose…” Gris eyes the boneless, quivering lump that is you under Enjin’s jacket.
Enjin really did a number on you. Your nonsensical babbles pouting for Enjin to ‘make sure to tell Semiu to bring you back some fries from the bar’ obviously means you have no idea that they are actually in the room.
“But it looks like you have your ‘ace in the hole' for an entirely different game.”
Enjin chortles. His hips stutter forward a bit too hard and you squeak in protest, he just hushes you.
“Awe, so you came back all this way to check-up on us? How sweet,” Enjin says sarcastically, taking a drag from his cigarette.
“Hardly. Rudo accidentally chugged an entire beer he thought was soda—then proceeded to throw it all up over Zanka,” Semiu says flatly.
Enjin attempts to hold back his laughter as Semiu continues with a sigh. She explains thatGris helped carry Rudo back, promptly putting his little blacked out ass to bed. Zanka locked himself in the bathroom immediately upon returning.
“Although they're sure to be occupied for the rest of the night, since the kids are back in the building you need to wrap this shit up Enjin—she looks like she could use the break anyway.”
Semiu casts a sympathetic look your way. She did warn you about Enjin though, so he was your mess to deal with now.
“Sure thing,” Enjin says, patting your form underneath his coat, “I’ve trained my new jinki well enough for tonight.”
Semiu takes one look at the absolutely diabolical grin on Enjin’s face and decides she's already had enough of his shit for the night.
She sighs again. “Just hurry it up, alright?”
Enjin gives Semiu a cheeky salute. Yet the second her back is turned, Enjin mimes a dramatic chef’s kiss to the air for Gris. Enjin’s eyes roll back like he’s just had the best meal of his life.
Gris snorts, shooting him a wink and a thumbs-up for a ‘job well done’ like a proud teammate before heading out of the room as well.
“One more thing.”
Semiu pauses in the doorway, hands resting on the double doors, surveying the crime scene-like state of the lounge. The sofa is toast, the coffee table’s on life support, and there's a growing puddle under you, spilling over to slowly drip off its edge onto the floor.
“If you’re just going to recklessly rawdog her, at least get her on the pill. Alice can sort that out tomorrow—right after you replace every piece of furniture you’ve both annihilated.”
Enjin simply shrugs, taking another drag of his cigarette.
“I suppose…we can stop by Alice’s too.”
Semiu just rolls her eyes, only to wrinkle her nose as a wave of stale air wafts by.
“And for the love of god—crack a window. Smells like fresh ass in here.”
Once the doors finally click shut, Enjin rips his jacket off of you and smiles. You’re still blissed out in lalaland while your pussy, Cumbringer, is clenching around him like she has one more go left in her.
Grabbing your arm, he pulls you up. Still sheathed inside you, he sits back on his knees, bringing you with him, your back pressed against his chest.
“Mmmm—*yawns* Was that Semiu on the call, Enj?”
Call? Oh, heh.
“Ha, yeah baby girl, just Semiu on the line,” Enjin lies too easily.
It’s for your own benefit though–no need to ruin your bliss with anything silly like embarrassment or shame from being walked-in on. Hell, unless Semiu says something, Enjin might be able to get away with not ever telling you.
“She said they ran outta fries though. I’ll get ya some later, yeah? Jus’ need Cumbringer to clock in one more time, Princess...”
Enjin rocks his hips with yours in a slow wave and your pout melts, no longer caring about the fries. Your head tips back onto his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you.
“Ah, mmmm, b-but—ngnh! She mentioned something about hotdogs and getting pills tomorrow? Is that a mission?”
Enjin hums to keep from laughing as he turns your face towards him. He smirks devilishly against your lips.
Distracting you with sweet chaste kisses, Enjin rubs gentle circles over your womb. You’re gonna be so fucking hot waddling around HQ in your slutty ass uniform, tits leaking and belly full with his brats.
The only pill he’d get from Alice would be a fertility pill.
“Nothing my slutty baby girl or my Cumbringer gotta worry about, Princess. Leave everything t’me.”
𝐚𝐧: ahh tysm for reading, especially if you are new to my writing. enjin brain rot is lethal. i needed to get this outta my system! jjk girlies forgive me for straying from my wip list and kinktober lol. definitely down to write more of him. i have a p2 and another enjin story (an AU) idea. but i have to focus on my jjk kinktober now! ♡
also, in case anyone is wondering—yes, reader's jinki is a labubu and yes, enjin just guilt tripped reader into growing him his own personal stash djhscjhdfj.
banner: mash up of official manga + rororogi mogera 'last mall' doujin panels.
୨୧ — Each thrust punches a cute, breathy “ah-ah-ah” out of you, and Caleb's so focused on the way your cunt is finally taking him easier now -slick and swollen and perfectly molded to him after hours of training- that he almost misses it…
But then the dim light from outside the window catches the movement of your stomach, and his hips stutter to a halt.
“What…” his voice comes out strangled- those pretty violet eyes growing wide, fixed on the subtle but unmistakable bulge in your lower belly, “is that…”
“C-Caleb?” You blink up at him through your fucked out haze, confused by the sudden stillness, “why’d you stop-“
He pulls back slowly, watching his thick length drag out of your stretched hole- and then slams home again, eyes locked on your abdomen.
There it is. The distinct outline of his cock, distending your belly from the inside.
Oh fuck… That’s me. That’s- I’m so deep I can see myself inside her…
“Pipsqueak,” he breathes, hand drifting to your stomach, pressing down experimentally.
You wail.
The pressure makes you clench around him so hard that Caleb’s eyes roll back, and suddenly that dark, possessive part of him that he'd kept locked away for years is roaring to the surface.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, starting to rock his hips in shallow thrusts while his palm stays pressed against the bulge. He can feel himself moving inside you, feel the way your soft belly yields to accommodate his size. “You feel that, Pips? Feel how deep I am?”
“Nnngh- s’too much-“ Your hands fly to grip his wrist, but you can't tell if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. Everything is sensation, the dual pressure of his cock splitting you open and his hand pushing down making your brain short-circuit.
“Too much?” Caleb's laugh is breathless, almost delirious. He's staring at where his hand meets your stomach like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen, “Baby, I think this might be my new favorite thing.”
He shifts angles, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in with a wet squelch, and this time he watches- watches the bulge appear, pushes down on it, feels his cockhead pressing against his own palm through the thin barrier of your flesh.
“CALEB-!”
I'm going to fuck her every day until this place finally feels like home.
“So pretty,” he coos, and the contrast between his sweet words and the brutal pace of his hips is making you dizzy, “my pretty girl, stuffed so full of my cock that I can see it in your belly.” His thumb traces the outline of himself through your skin, pressing in, and your vision finally whites out, “You know what this means, right?”
You can barely form words, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as he pounds into you, “W-what- ahh- what does it-“
“Means no one else could ever reach this deep.” His voice drops to a growl as he adjusts his grip on the headboard to drive even harder into your abused cunt. “Means this spot-“ he punctuates with a thrust, pressing down on the bulge simultaneously, “-right here-“ another thrust, another press, and you're sobbing now, “-belongs to me.”
You're cumming before you even realize it's happening, walls clamping down on him while you thrash against the sheets. But Caleb doesn't stop. If anything, he speeds up, chasing his own release while his hand remains firmly planted on your stomach.
“Gonna fill you up again, okay? Gonna pump you so full you'll bulge even without my cock inside- mph-“
He hilts himself one final time and grinds, and you can feel every pulse and twitch of him as he spills deep inside your womb.
When he finally catches his breath, Caleb doesn't pull out. Instead, he rearranges your boneless body, settling you onto your side with him spooned behind you, cock still buried to the root.
His hand finds your belly again, pressing gently where you're still stretched around him.
“Definitely my new favorite thing,” he murmurs against your hair, thumb stroking lazy circles over the subtle swell.
"and i, fuck, i went to the grocery store today..."
"mhm?" caleb hummed, rubbing your clit at a tantalizing pace. "what else?"
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, toes curling, brain turning to mush as arousal trickled down your thighs.
"don't stop talkin' baby, keep goin'." he teased.
you cursed again, tears trickling down your flushed cheeks from desperation. he moved slowly, trailing them with his tongue, the pink muscle licking your face clean. he never broke eye contact.
"a-and i-" you hiccuped, "came back to your place to s-start on dinner!"
caleb smiled softly, such love and adoration in his gaze. it almost made you think otherwise, if it wasn't for the fact that he was bullying your pussy at such a mean pace, thick and calloused digits drilling in and out of you.
"thank you for telling me about your day, baby. you know i always love to hear it."
he picked up his speed, your moans gradually getting louder, more desperate. he lowered his forehead to yours, making sure his piercing gaze saw through your cross-eyed expression.
"now, i'm thinking we skip dinner and go straight to dessert."
"and i, fuck, i went to the grocery store today..."
"mhm?" caleb hummed, rubbing your clit at a tantalizing pace. "what else?"
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, toes curling, brain turning to mush as arousal trickled down your thighs.
"don't stop talkin' baby, keep goin'." he teased.
you cursed again, tears trickling down your flushed cheeks from desperation. he moved slowly, trailing them with his tongue, the pink muscle licking your face clean. he never broke eye contact.
"a-and i-" you hiccuped, "came back to your place to s-start on dinner!"
caleb smiled softly, such love and adoration in his gaze. it almost made you think otherwise, if it wasn't for the fact that he was bullying your pussy at such a mean pace, thick and calloused digits drilling in and out of you.
"thank you for telling me about your day, baby. you know i always love to hear about it."
he picked up his speed, your moans gradually getting louder, more desperate. he lowered his forehead to yours, making sure his piercing gaze saw through your cross-eyed expression.
"now, i'm thinking we skip dinner and go straight to dessert."
-realistically ik he doesn't smoke but i feel like his go to method would definitely be a bong. he'd either have one of those rick and morty bongs #forthememe or he'd have a reallllyyyy nice bong that's super easy to clean and was clearly handcrafted for him
-for the sake of this headcannon im gonna say his tolerance is prob up there with sukuna. he smokes as a stress reliever and baby we all know he be STRESSED
-don't dare put a backwood in this man's face. that's breakup grounds for him, he don't play that
-always choosing fruit flavored papers because he loves the way it tastes on your lips when he kisses you. alternatively, he also likes picking outrageous strands like something called "cheetah piss" just so it pisses you off
-literally has any smoking device you can think of. need a quick gb? gotcha covered. had a bad day and need a blunt rolled asap? you got it. going to see a crazy movie and wanting more for your experience? why not a quick dab from his $400 dab rig?
-"baby have you seen my digimon lighter???"
- you have to get on his ass sometimes when yall smoke together or in a group setting bc if he gets reallllly into the convo he always ends up babysitting the blunt. this has also started a lot of petty arguments
-king of munchies.
-grilled cheese after a quick bowl? it'll be burnt, but ready. want ramen at 3 am? uber eats already on the way. quick run to the convenience store? he's already putting his coat on.
-always tries to make corny jokes whenever he's fried bc he knows you love them even if they irritate the shit out of you.
-ended up pavoloving himself by getting horny everytime he smokes with you. but can you really blame the man? having high sex with you was the closest to euphoria he's ever felt and he's not stopping anytime soon
toji
-dawg LMAOOOOOOO
-this nigga smokes backwoods. and not the fruity shit either, the originals. he hates anything flavored with a passion and will look at you like you're dumb if you present him with anything but. you've even asked him why, and his response?:
-"i'm a grown ass man i don't need no damn russian cream on my lips"
-usually only likes to smoke on his off days (which are few and far between). those times are when you can usually find him smoking on the couch with a beer clutched in his left hand.
- speaking of, he smokes the nastiest gbs too. cap all grimy, water hasn't been changed in like 2 months, bottle damn near got a ecosystem in it. it's a small plastic coke bottle that looks too tiny in his brawny hands.
-you've begged him to change it bc clearly that's not hygienic but he claims it "helps build character" and he's "too busy to keep up with that shit" he's too lazy to change it
- with toji being in such a dangerous yet affluent profession, with money comes an endless supply. so you never have to ask for toji to "re-up" on anything.
-you banned him from making eye contact whenever he's rolling. the way he looks at you as he licks his lips and glides the tip of his tongue across the tobacco gets you going. you call him a freak and all he does is smirks, bc he ABSOLUTELY knows what he's doing
-you dropped the blunt once by accident while you two were smoking together and you swear your life flashed before your eyes
- mixture of weed and his cologne >>>>>>>
-high sex with him is the best esp if he's stressed. usually your sex is more like rough love making, but whenever he's done hitting the blunt after a hard day, he gives you that look and you know you're about to be bent over the sofa in a tight headlock in .2 seconds
nanami
-i don't think nanami would smoke either BUT IF HE DID i feel like he'd have a simple lil one-hitter. black with white marble, a big bowl, and a cute little silver metal scraper you got him for his kief.
-his tolerance is pretty low. he smokes often enough to have one built but not enough to where he has to smoke more than 1 joint to feel smth yknow?
-he saves fruit rolls as a special treat, his favorite flavor being mango. you always have one rolled ready for him
-only buys from dispensaries or the most bougiest eccentric seller you know that grows their stuff natural in the countryside. nanami is a stickler for these things so he tries his best to source them as organically as he can. god forbid something happened to you, him, or anyone else he loved and cared about. he's a safe smoker and he takes pride in that.
-owns a joint holder ring because he refuses to get his hands burned if he can control it. he would prefer his burns to be from cooking and not from the "devils lettuce"
-has a dab pen hidden in his desk at work if he needs smth to take the edge off on those special days aka everyday when he works w gojo
-loves baking new treats for you and having you and your friends be taste testers for his edibles :3
-is the best caretaker for you if you ever got too high. is always nice and gentle with you so it always makes you feel safe and in a controlled environment.
-has narcan on deck and ALWAYS tests yours and everyone's stuff because he'll be damned if someone got laced under his watch
suguru
-BABBBYYYYYY
-i feel like out of everything he'd enjoy smoking papers the most. he likes blunts but they're not his go-to. will smoke about anything but a dab pen or backwoods, both are too harsh for his lungs.
- he pre-rolls joints for the WEEEKKK. literally has designated joints for days and length, but it mostly depends on how the day was for both of yall. he likes to be prepared and it gives him something to look forward to during his stressful weeks.
-has a lighter on a leash because gojo loves stealing his. even had to go as far as engraving his initials into his favorite digimon lighter that gojo stole
-has a growing lighter collection because of you. he was never really into it like that until you got him a special clicker, a beautiful white dragon with a blue flame.
-likes putting herbs in his rolls to help him relax/breathe better. prefers mullein, peppermint, or lavender.
-loves chain smoking with you. he says it's more "cost effective" but you believe it's just because he wants to kiss you.
-like toji he's also banned from making any kind of eye contact with you when he rolls. his intensity has definitely gotten you in trouble more than once. he definitely gets a little frisky.
-makes fun of nanami for smoking a dab pen because "why hit that when you can just do a real dab" he hit a blinker once and got scared
- on special occasions you both do shrooms together but only when you both are in a good, healthy mindset. you usually save these special moments for anniversaries or birthdays :D
-only smokes indica because sativa makes him too anxious
choso
-king of taking a fat dab in the morning
- nah i'm jk lol i don't think he'd be able to handle that unless he was a Faithful stoner. i'm talking abt clocked in day and out
-had a really bad high once when he smoked for the first time and swore he'd never smoke again. he smoked a joint with you 2 days later.
-his tolerance is pretty low but the more he smokes with you and his friends the stronger his tolerance gets. it gets to a point where he just has a joint tucked away behind his ear for whenever the opportunity presents itself.
-i feel like he's not really much of a talker when he smokes, so whenever you do it together you spend it either drawing and listening to music, or cuddling and just watching one of the latest shows you've been meaning to catch up on.
-can't eat edibles or psychedelics because he hates being high for too long. you split an edible with him one time not knowing the dose (mostly bc you forgot) and you both were high as hell for 3 days straight 😭 after that he swore off of them
-loves playing horror games with you whenever you're in the mood to. a good blunt and outlast 2? a perfect date! you don't understand how he does it but he claims it's "exhilarating" (you don't like getting paranoid especially when you're high but he always lets you cuddle into his chest whenever you get scared. you definitely don't mind him peppering your neck and cheeks with kisses, relaxing into his hold)
-always compliments you whenever it's just you two smoking. "baby you look so good, can i kiss you?"
-"you're such a pretty girl. i can't believe how lucky i am..."
-"you're so ethereal..."
sukuna
-i feel like sukuna gives me dealer vibes. smokes weed every once in a while but mostly likes to smoke cigars.
-never know what the fuck you're dealing with when it comes to weed and sukuna. got some new shit from his dealer once and it was literally called alaskan thunderfuck. (no you didn't smoke it).
-type of man to smoke just to smoke because his tolerance is hiiiiighhhhhh . you saw him eat an entire 3000 mg edible before and all he felt was a buzz. you started taking him more seriously when he said his tolerance was high after that.
-half of the time when you smoke w him you always tap-out so it usually just ends with you stuck on the couch and him just vibing finishing the rest. he's called you a pussy multiple times because of it but you've learned to choose your own battles, and being able to out smoke sukuna is not one of them.
-but back on track for the drug dealer part, this man is literally the devil
-cuts his weed with illegal shit half of the time because he's not a good person!!!!!!
-does not gaf abt no one but you and the bag
-he usually lets you ride around with him when he does his drop offs because he loves making you his eye candy (but god forbid someone tries to flirt with you. it's OVER)
- sukuna one time didn’t have sandwich bags so he gave people their weed in a napkin. when he doesn't have a napkin he just gives them crumbles of bud and let them deal with the rest.
-has no time management what so ever. the type of plug to say "omw" at 2pm and says it again at 10 pm finally pulling up, only to short you a gram of what you bought anyway. sukuna lowkey sucks LOL
cunnilingus 101 ft. cuck gojo and suguru geto. minors DNI.
satoru gojo was a good boyfriend. a great boyfriend even.
while your girlfriends were trying (and failing) to convince theirs to do the bare minimum, your boyfriend was off buying a purse you’d mentioned once in passing. spending a couple grand daily without so much as batting an eye.
satoru brought over an extra coffee and your favorite pastry whenever you were pulling a particularly long studying sesh in the school library. there was hardly anything that went unnoticed.
but there was only problem in your relationship.
satoru gojo could not make you cum to save his own life.
piles and piles of books all focused around anatomy and female pleasure were stacked on his bookcase next to his neat lil’ collection of comics. he’d read them multiple times—to the point where he could probably recite each one back to front and front to back.
and still, he couldn’t manage to put what he’d read into action. every time he slid your panties down, salivating just at the sight of your glistening folds (after almost thirty minutes of foreplay), he froze.
his hands grew clammy, sweat beaded up on his forehead like he’d just ran a marathon, and his tongue started to feel like lead. everything he read left his mind and he ended up lapping at your cunt like a desperate dog until you pulled him off with a small, reassuring smile.
and now, you weren’t even entertaining the idea. “‘toru, it’s fine. i’ll just get my vibe to help me out or something,” you told him before he could even kneel down. satoru felt his heart drop to his ass.
satoru dropped back on his knees, staring at you like you’d offended him and his bloodline in one go. “you’re seriously gonna let a clanker-” he spat out the word with such disdain before continuing with his rant, “-into our bedroom? into our safe space and abode? i mean, seriously, think about the environment and the battery power required to power that thing. soon enough you’ll replace me with a robot and-”
you stopped him before he could continue with his rambling, “do you have a better idea then?”
“actually yeah, give me a second.” before you could respond, he darted off. locking himself in the bathroom and pulling his phone out like it was urgent.
it was.
his fingers flew across the screen, dialing the only number other than yours he had memorized by now.
he didn’t give the other man a chance to speak, immediately talking like he was recruiting geto for the military. “suguru i need your help. i feel like she’s about to dump my ass.”
a yawn left the other man’s lips, “okay woah, slow down,” the sound of sheets rustling sounded next like he’d just woken up, “why do you think she’s gonna break up with you?”
“because i don’t know how eat pussy!” satoru whined, louder than he intended to. “can you come over and teach me, pleaseee? i’ll pay you.”
“teach you how?”
that was surprisingly.. less resistance than gojo was expecting. “can you eat out my girlfriend?” he knew how ridiculous it sounded, but he was desperate. “i’ll learn by watching you.”
the line went silent, suguru seemingly considering the offer for a couple seconds. “and your girlfriend’s okay with all this?”
“…..yeah.”
“i’ll be right over in twenty then.”
twenty minutes later on the dot, suguru was settling in between your thighs, pulling your legs to dangle over his broad shoulders. the little ‘s’ anklet satoru had got you dangled almost mockingly. looking up at you before he asked, “this okay with you?”
you turned to look over at satoru, over in the cuck chair in the ‘corner of shame’ as he so called it, but suguru quickly brought your attention back to him, gently biting on your inner thigh. “i’m asking you. i’m not asking your idiot of a boyfriend. is this okay?”
“yeah, it’s okay,” you responded almost immediately, feeling a shiver run down your spine as suguru crawled up, tilting your chin up. his kiss wasn’t desperate like satoru’s were, but it was still hungry. his tongue traced the seam of your lower lip before he coaxed your mouth open, tasting you like you were a divine fruit.
one of suguru’s hands moved down, pushing your lace panties to the side with ease. “oh f-fuck,” you whined into his mouth, hips bucking up into his fingers as he started to rub your folds, spreading your slick like jelly on bread.
“there we-” suguru murmured, pushing two fingers inside of your dripping cunt, “-go. took it so well for me, just relax,” he all but cooed in your ear, fingers moving in a torturous pace as he thrust them in and out. in and out, slow and steady.
admittedly, it was a little hard to relax when your boyfriend’s big blue orbs were staring at what seemed to be your soul while he dutifully took notes. scribbling down what exactly had you making the most noise, what you seemed to enjoy that he didn’t do.
but you leaned back, allowing yourself to get lost in suguru.
suguru dropped back to where he was once before and where he belonged: face to face with your cunt. but he ignored your desperate attempts of bucking your pussy in his face, choosing to start off on your inner thigh. each brush of his lips, each kiss, felt like a mocking tease the more he avoided touching where you wanted.
“please,” you spoke up. suguru’s eyes darted over to yours, a shit-eating smile on his face as he leaned forward. breath hitting your cunt, your walls clenching at nothing.
“please, what?”
“please eat me out, i need it, need you, please,” you babbled despite the chuckle that escaped the man’s throat. satoru wrote that down enthusiastically—you’d never begged for him like this. if anything, you asked for him to stop.
suguru gives your thigh one last teasing bite before his tongue swiped across your folds, your slick overwhelming his taste buds. “you’re mmmf, missing out toru. she tastes like heaven.”
of course, satoru knew that. a pathetic whine left his lips as he watched suguru’s eyes practically roll back with each taste, eyes practically hyper focused on everything the man was doing. suguru spread your legs even wider, the tip of his tongue flicking against your entrance before he delved in.
“o-oh fuck, sugu!” a loud moan left your lips, fingers digging into his scalp as he started to eat you out like a man starving. saliva and slick dribbled down from his lips to his chin, the tip of his nose prodding against your throbbing clit.
satoru gojo didn’t bother even trying to keep up with his notes.
his notepad was left discarded, cock straining against the thin material of his digimon boxers. satoru didn’t free himself though, he didn’t deserve it. but he did palm himself through his sweatpants, giving himself just the slightest bit of pressure to feel some sort of relief.
“taste so good, such a shame satoru can’t make you cum,” suguru let out a muffled groan against your cunt, each one sending a vibration shooting up your spine. his lips latched onto your swollen clit, sucking and swirling his tongue against the sensitive bud while his fingers thrusted in you once more. “you like that, pretty girl?” you nodded your head, back arched and toes curled.
“don’t stop, fuck- sugu, fuck, gonna cum, gonna cum.” you sounded so pretty when you weren’t faking your orgasm. your back arched off the bed, toes curling and desperate babbles left your mouth—all in desperation to cum.
“there we go, take what you deserve,” suguru cooed, your orgasm washing over you like a wave almost instantly. you soaked his lips and chin, and yet, you laid back against the bed with a satisfied sigh.
suguru got up from his spot, walking over to the cuck chair. he tilted satoru’s chin, immediately met with the sight of the flustered man before he leaned in. being so generous as to give him the divine taste, spit dripping down satoru’s skin the messier the exchange got. satoru let out a moan, fingers digging into the man’s shoulder to pull him impossibly closer.
and just as quickly as it’d started, the raven haired man pulled away. “alright, hope that helps,” suguru announced before leaving, the door slamming shut behind him. leaving you panting and clenching the bedsheets like it was nothing.
and leaving gojo unsure if the cum dripping onto his underwear was from the sight of you being pleasured or from being kissed by his best friend.
bulking szn for your husband nanami / cw: unrealistic physical changes / a/n: i’ve seen like 5 fics with this idea with toji so … here’s nanami
it’s no secret that your husband goes to the gym. thick, defined muscles from his shoulders and back to his calves and thighs. no amount of clothing can hide his physique. and now, when it’s time to bulk, he’s even bigger. a bit of pudge forms on his stomach, those muscles becoming less defined, and overall… he’s warmer. thicker and warmer like a huge bear when he cuddles you at night.
you make his meals for him too. garlic pasta, burritos, bagels stuffed with so much cream cheese it gets overstuffed. everything he wants. whenever cutting season comes, you dread having to make him high protein, low calorie meals. not because they’re hard, but because all that warmth and thickness goes away.
but you’ll savor it for now. especially now. now, when he’s got you deep in a tight prone bone, his thickened body nonetheless strong still, but more warm and heavy. his arms cage you in, the heat of his body causing your face to flush. not only is the rest of his body thicker, but so is his cock.
the sheer girth of it has you on the verge of tears. the way it’s stretching you has you convulsing around him, arching into the mattress, panting heavier than usual. “am i too heavy, sweetheart?” he asks, voice as gruff as ever, just how it always sounds when you’ve got him on the edge of coming.
you shake your head desperately. you want his weight on you. badly. “more—hngh, more, ken.” you feel his balls slap your clit when he goes deeper. you feel the throb of his cock when you tighten impossibly more around him.
he presses his forehead to the back of your head, trying to fuck deeper into you. you’re gripping at the sheets, whining and mewling for him like a cat in heat. he’s barely thrusting anymore, just rutting and chasing both his and your orgasm.
he needs you to cum for him first though, it’s the only way he can get off. the way you get when you squirt all over his cock, tears brimming your eyes, arms clinging to him. he craves it.
“come on, baby, cum for me. i know you need it.” the rasp in his voice pushes you impossibly closer to the edge. but that’s not what does it for you. what does is when he wraps his thick bicep around your neck, putting you in a headlock while he urges you to cum. it only takes a second before you’re cumming so much you think you might pass out, white vision and all.
as soon as you tighten around him like that, juices squirting out around his cock, he buries his cock to the hilt and cums with you, feeling an overwhelming desperation to breed you. “god—fuck, fuck—“ the rasp in his voice now serves as a broken groan.
of course, he has to reward all your great cooking with a great orgasm.
V3!
Check my patreon for all the ranked up memories ;*
Might also post them on pillowfort one day >. > keep an eye on it
https://www.pillowfort.social/SpicyMoonbunny
hell, you didn’t even know you could do it yourself.
it all hit you like a freight train that night, tangled up in his bed, sweat-slicked sheets twisted around your legs.
you’d been fucking for what felt like hours — his thick cock slamming into you missionary style, your thighs spread wide, knees hooked over his hips as he pounded relentlessly.
every thrust stretched your soaked pussy to its limits, the obscene squelch of your juices filling the air.
you were a mess already, clit throbbing from the way he’d been rubbing it earlier with his thumb, your walls clenching greedily around him like they were trying to milk him dry.
but then it built — this weird, unfamiliar pressure deep in your core, like you had to piss but way more intense, bubbling up from your bladder and radiating through your swollen folds.
it scared you a little, made your body tense. “caleb — fuck, slow down-” you gasped, your voice breaking as you clawed at his shoulders, nails digging into his sweat-drenched skin.
his eyes lit up like you’d just handed him the keys to paradise.
that hungry, feral grin spread across his face, all teeth and sin, and instead of slowing, the bastard motivated himself.
“oh yeah? that’s it, baby girl.” he growled low and nasty, voice rough as gravel. “don’t you hold back on me.” before you could protest, his strong arms wrapped around you like iron bands, yanking your body flush against his.
he locked you in tight — chest to chest, your tits squished against his pecs, his hips pinning yours down so you couldn’t squirm away.
one hand gripped your ass cheek hard, fingers bruising the flesh as he spread you wider, the other tangled in your hair, yanking your head back to expose your throat for his teeth.
he went feral after that, jackhammering into you faster, harder — his cock pistoning like a machine.
“come on baby..” he snarled against your neck, biting down just hard enough to draw a whimper.
“i can feel it — you’re gonna fucking explode all over my dick.” the pressure skyrocketed, your bladder screaming, you thrashed in his grip, but he held you immobile, fucking you through it.
“fuck—caleb, i can’t—” you wailed, your voice a broken sob.
and then it hit—that feeling bursting inside you, your pussy convulsed violently around his cock, walls fluttering and squeezing as a gush of hot fluid erupted from you.
you felt it everywhere — your juices running down you, pooling under your ass, making everything slippery and filthy.
“fuuuuck..” caleb groaned, eyes wild with lust as he watched it happen, feeling the warm flood coat his shaft mid-thrust.
he didn’t stop—kept railing you through the orgasm, his cock churning your squirting pussy into a frothy mess, white cream from your arousal foaming at the base.
