Cassidy Attilla Brook

20/female I write for fun please follow my work on Wattpad

[cherryattillabrook]

For anyone that follows me and is interested, I started to write my Stranger things Fanfic on Wattpad

Ophelia

"While they all fall in love with her smile, she waits for one who will fall in love with her scars" -The Dreamer ...

It’s about my original character Ophelia and I’d appreciate if you guys give me any feedback 💖✌️

Also it’s my first time writing so please be gentle 🙏

[amusingstar]

trash beasts!! — ★

— enjin wishes you’d shut up sometimes. he figures out how to do just that in his own way in the privacy of your practice room during the midst of a band competition.

drummer!enjin x fem!reader — band!au WORD COUNT: 11.5k WARNINGS: 18+, mdni, smut!!, oral/blowjobs, dirty talk, fingering, p in v sex, looots of nicknames, mock sympathy, creampies, sexual tension, they’re real nasty

The new drummer in your band was aggravating, to say the least. Incredibly aggravating.

Aggravatingly handsome. Aggravatingly good at playing the drums. Aggravatingly good at getting under your skin.

The issue was, he hadn’t even done anything to warrant such a sour distaste from you. He was just… there. Always there, with his stupid tattoos and tussled hair, or his inked fingers that constantly twiddled a drumstick when he wasn’t busy slamming on a cymbal and bobbing his head to his own sound, or his ridiculous clothes that somehow made him look even more sinful.

The other issue was, he wasn’t even new. It’d been almost a year since Enjin had joined the band, courtesy of Gris finding him so easily after your last drummer dipped out for a rival band. For almost a year, you were tormented, trapped in between hating him and wanting to fuck him.

It was all so aggravating.

“You’re lookin’ reeeal grouchy today,” the man in question said smugly from where he was slouched lazily on the black sofa with an arm thrown over the back, cigarette burning between two of his fingers.

He cocked his head in question when you threw him a sideways glance, a complacent smirk curving at the edge of his lips.

“Princess doesn’t feel up for playin’ today, huh?”

“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” You asked sharply, fully sending him a glare that did nothing to deter him. If anything, it only amused him further.

“Not particularly,” he mused, lifting the cigarette to his lips to fester more of the smoke into his lungs. It curled into the air as he exhaled, purposefully blowing it in the direction of where you sat.

Though a smoker yourself, his smoke probably had disgusting toxins in it that would fuck with your brain and make your thoughts become even more of a nuisance. Maybe that was the reason why you were even having thoughts about him that always ended up furthering your one-sided beef.

You made a point of wrinkling your nose and waving the smoke away, Riyo snickering from where she sat towards the window with her bass in her lap.

“Leave her alone, En,” she cooed, plucking lazily at a string. “First competition of the season. She’s probably nervous.”

Zanka let out a snort from somewhere behind you where he was tuning his guitar.

You let out a defeated sigh, sinking further into your chair. While you appreciated Riyo’s weak attempt at defending you, it was all far from the truth.

Competitions were nothing new to you. In fact, Gris made sure that the band always had the first step into any competition in order to be prepared, so it wasn’t nerves that were souring your mood.

Though, you could admit, you did feel a bit rusty, having not competed since last year’s festival. And now with a new drummer, one full of such ego and arrogance, it had you wishing you could shove a guitar pick up his ass everyday.

You weren’t too sure how this would all play out this year.

“Yeah,” you muttered. “Jus’ nervous.”

Enjin let out a low hum in acknowledgment, though from the knowing glint in his eye, he didn’t quite believe it.

“Nervous, huh?” he asked loosely, curling his fingers around his cigarette to take another easy hit. “You don’t strike me as the nervous type.”

You shifted uncomfortably against the cushions of your own sofa, crossing your arms over your chest. Despite your disdain towards him, he always seemed to read right through you, like you were a locked up box that only he held the key for.

Aggravating.

“It’s our first competition with an idiot drummer,” you said slyly, drumming your fingers against your bicep. “You’d be nervous, too.”

Unsurprisingly, he barked out a wild laugh, head thrown back against his sofa. He never took offense to any criticism, and it only irked you more. He got under your skin so easily, so why was it so difficult for you to do the same?

“Good point, doll,” he huffed through a laugh, finishing off his cigarette and flicking it to the lone ashtray on the coffee table. “Lucky for you, this idiot–“ he jabs a thumb towards his chest, “–knows how to play some mean fuckin’ drums. So you don’t have much to worry about, ‘ight?”

Before you could strike up a retort, the door opened with Gris filing in.

“Got about ten minutes of down time before we need to set up,” Gris said with a smile, hands on his hips, taking up the doorway. “Think you can be ready by that time?”

“Yeah! Plenty of time for our lovely singer to wind down from her nerves,” Riyo teased, already standing to get herself together. You could hear Enjin snicker from across from you.

“Oh? Are you nervous?” Gris asked kindly, ever the sweetheart as always.

You shot a glare at Riyo’s back where she packed up her bass and slung it over her shoulder. Zanka joined her, his own case resting lazily, avoiding your gaze.

“M’fine,” you muttered with a huff, giving Gris a wave of your hand.

He cocked an eyebrow but didn’t pry. “No need to be nervous, anyway,” he assured. “We’ve done this a million times. Set up in ten, alright?”

He offered another one of his infamous smiles, holding the door open for Zanka and Riyo before fluttering out behind them. The click was loud when the door shut, leaving the room to fall into a deafening silence.

You didn’t know why you stayed. You should’ve stood, followed behind Riyo and left Enjin behind in the room alone to his own devices. You didn’t know why you were still here, slouching on the uncomfortable couch, eyes piercing into the old carpet like it personally offended you.

“You don’t trust me as a drummer,” Enjin suddenly said. It wasn’t accusing or defensive. It was a simple statement, something to break the chill in the air.

“I never said that,” you murmured awkwardly, finding a loose string on your ripped tights to be all the more interesting.

You moved mountains to assure you were never in the same room as him alone, spending nearly a year fighting off unfamiliar urges and pushing him to the farthest corner of your mind.

“Y’sure are actin’ like it.”

But he was making that difficult.

You really should’ve left with the others.

You sniffed, risking a look at him up through your lashes. You kept your expression neutral to hide the burning irritation that was building up inside your stomach.

“Maybe I just don’t like you.”

Enjin grinned, amusement practically seeping through his teeth.

“Nah,” he breathed, smile widening. “I think you’re lyin’.”

He stood from the sofa, the clinks of his cluttered jewelry and chains filling the room. You watched as he stepped closer to you, long legs stopping short to where they nearly brushed yours from where you were seated.

You looked up at him as he towered over. Enjin leaned down to become eye level with you, that stupid grin on his face only becoming more punchable the closer he got.

“Knock ‘em dead tonight, sweetheart,” he said slyly. “Been waitin’ almost a year to see what you’re like when you’re competin’. Been wonderin’ if you’re all bark or if you’ve got some bite in ya, too.”

He stood tall as you gaped at him, watching his broad shoulders as he turned to saunter out of the practice room, leaving you alone with a heavy silence.

…What the fuck?

Your eyes remained on the door, even after it was shut. The sudden butterflies in your stomach had you feeling nauseated as they tried to fight their way out. A light sheen of sweat began to fester at your temples.

Enjin was many things — annoying, stupid, egotistical, arrogant, selfish, and did you already mention annoying? However, flirtatious was not one of those many things.

With plenty of women who came to see you play outside of the competition aspect, sure, he was a flirt. One of those types of guys who fucked now and talked later – a whore, if you will, thinking with his dick first and feeling with his heart after the fact, which even then is a stretch.

But with you? You wouldn’t exactly deem most of your conversations as flirtatious. Light banter, maybe. Argumentative, certainly. It never bordered on flirting.

Right?

Fuck.

Now that you were sitting here, his words sat on your tongue like lead, heavy and rancid. It curled something uncomfortable in you, like maybe you were the idiot.

One glance at the ticking clock on the wall told you that you didn’t have enough time to dwell on it. Seven minutes had already passed with you sulking in your own confusing thoughts, so you reluctantly dragged yourself off of the couch and out the door, maneuvering through the backstage with your heart in your ass.

“All good?” Semiu asked, observing the dim stage where instruments were set up and already plugged in for the start of the competition.

Bands of all kinds were here, some still lounging in their practice rooms, awaiting to watch their rival performances on backstage TVs. Some were scurrying backstage, hurrying to get their looks together for their time slot.

Unlucky for you, Trash Beasts were up first. You weren’t sure what the universe had against you today, but it was a bunch of bullshit.

“Think so,” you murmured back to her, watching Zanka pluck at one of his guitar strings to tune it.

“Good,” she said pointedly, adjusting the round glasses on her face. “Gris said you were nervous.”

You sputtered, shooting the lead guitarist a fiery look of your own that you prayed he could feel burning through the back of his neck.

“She is,” a voice said before you could defend yourself, a large hand settling atop your head. “But she’ll kick some ass, ain’t that righ’?”

You tilted your head back to see Enjin towering behind you, smacking on a piece of minty gum that mixed with his cigarette smell that infiltrated your nostrils. You begrudgingly grabbed his wrist and forced his hand off of your head like you were a damn dog, watching his lips perk up in amusement.

“M’not nervous,” you defended to a very unconvinced Semiu. “Just a bit annoyed that we’re the first ones performing.”

Enjin was much too close for your liking, his arm pressing into your shoulder and his heat radiating off of him like a furnace. It settled something wicked in you, a brief warmth that spread through your stomach like wildfire and dared to fester lower.

Jesus Christ, you really needed to get laid.

“Uh-huh,” Semiu said plainly, staring at you for a moment too long before growing bored and moving on. “Alright. No more games. You’re either locked the fuck in, or you’re comin’ out of this shit as losers, and I ain’t associatin’ myself with that. So, you either take a line to get rid of those nerves, or you kiss a championship goodbye. Got it?”

You took a deep inhale, holding it before releasing it slowly through your nostrils. Though Semiu was only partly joking, there was a larger part of her that definitely wasn’t, and you truly didn’t want to stick around long enough to see it in action.

You wondered if she knew — knew that you were completely enamored with the idiot beside you, that is. Semiu knew a lot more than what she led on, lots of times before you even knew yourself.

“Yes, ma’am,” Enjin said first, grinning down at her. You felt your eye twitch at the damn gum smacking, and even more so when his arm came to slump over your shoulders. “Ain’t got much to worry ‘bout with this one. She’s got them smoooooth vocals, y’hear?”

Your lip curled up as you rolled your shoulders to let his arm fall away. He merely snickered, throwing innocent hands up and taking a step away. His warmth went with it, and you nearly slapped yourself for the brief flicker of disappointment.

“Please shut up,” you muttered in annoyance.

Semiu looked at you expectantly, and you straightened up. “…Yes, ma’am. I’ll lock in.” You crossed an X over your chest. “Scout’s honor.”

“Attagirl,” Ejin hummed as if you were even talking to him in the first place, giving you a clap on the shoulder and sauntering away to his drums.

Jesus. You really wished he hadn’t said that. God, he made hating him difficult.

The words rang through your head like church bells and you aggressively shook your head to will the unholiness away.

You heard Semiu let out a loud sigh, pressing her manicured fingers to the bridge of her nose. You pouted, shoulders drooping in defeat.

“Children,” she muttered under her breath. “All of you, really.”

She lifted an accusing finger and jabbed it your way, nearly pressing it against your nose. Your eyes went crossed looking at it.

“Lock. In. You’ve got this shit, ‘ight?” she encouraged, pressing the tip of her finger into the center of your forehead and knocking you back an inch.

“Ach, jesus, okay, lady,” you complained, rubbing the palm of your hand over the tender spot of your forehead.

Semiu gestured for you to join your band, and you reluctantly shuffled to the mic stand, avoiding Enjin’s burning stare along the way. He was testing his drums, knocking wooden sticks against the cymbals and snare drum to loosen himself up and get into his zone.

You busied yourself with adjusting the mic stand, twisting the indented plastic ring and sliding the stand down to accustom to your height. You tapped a finger against the microphone, hearing it lightly buzz across the stadium where large crowds chattered away behind the tall, red curtain.

“You good?” Gris asked, nearly startling you out of your daze. He smiled apologetically, one of his hands rubbing along the back of his neck, the other gripping the neck of his guitar.

“‘Course,” you shrugged dismissively, clearing your throat. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Enjin. That’s why.

That stupid, ugly, big oaf that was practically prisoner in your thoughts.

You dared to risk a glance in your peripheral of Enjin from where he sat on the back of the stage, surrounded by a variety of drums. You felt your heart in your throat when he was already looking at you, and as if sensing your watchful eye, he gave a lazy thumbs up, crooked grin on that stupid mouth of his.

“Prooobably because you’ve been a bit out of it,” Gris said sympathetically, his own eyes shifting to Enjin before returning to you. If he noticed anything, he didn’t mention it. “Just seein’ if you’re locked in or not, y’know?”

“Jesus, I’m locked in, I swear!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “Why’s everybody bein’ such a worry wart?”

Gris’ eyebrows raised in surprise before his smile turned into something a bit more sheepish.

“Alright, alright, you’re locked in,” he agreed through a strangled laugh. He reached his fist out and held it to you, waiting for you to acknowledge it. “Let’s kill this shit, then, yeah?”

You glanced down at his inviting fist, woefully lifting your own to slam your knuckles against his in a pitiful fistbump. He gave one last ruffle of your hair as encouragement before turning to the others, calling out orders that the show was to begin.

You stood at the microphone, peering at the ugly red velvet that kept a barrier between the eager crowd and you.

You tried not to let your mind wander, you really did, but Enjin always had a funny way of crawling into your mind like an aggravating maggot that was desperate to eat away at your brain matter.

Yeah, you thought, you really needed to get laid. You were astronomically down bad to the point it was embarrassing.

Maybe after the competition, you’d go out to the bar by yourself and get plastered. Meet a cute guy that kept your attention long enough to have you being pulled into his bed, satiating the itch that seemed to only grow more and more irritating the more you let it fester.

So infested with your own muddled thoughts of an idiot, you barely even noticed your band’s group being announced, as well as the curtain beginning to split in two sections. The spotlight became all too bright from where it shined down on you with the power of a thousand suns, but you quickly gained your composure, placing on a confident smile, greeting the excited shouts with a wave.

Enjin forced himself to focus as he led the band into the first song of the night, lest he ruined the entire battle from the first note. This was his first competition with Trash Beasts, with you, and he’d be damned if he fucked it up before he even had a chance to show off.

Truth be told, it was probably a horrible idea of him to be so smitten over a brat like you.

The two of you were bandmates, and you had been there long before he ever was, the binding glue to the entire band held together with just your pretty voice alone. One he hated to admit that he listened to on repeat during nights he found the silence too loud.

He wasn’t even the type to like women – not romantically. It was only ever sexual, something he smothered himself in between the legs of pretty women and a rolled blunt. Hell, he didn’t even know what kind of feelings he held towards you. They were foreign, an enigma with a missing puzzle piece, something he loved to shove deep down and mask over with a goofy smile and snide remarks.

It was hard to deny any of that, though, when you took over the stage like you owned it, prancing around in an outfit that would surely come back to haunt him later on after he’s had one too many shots.

You had the stage presence of somebody who’d been doing performances for their entire life. It was second nature to you. Muscle memory. Something that clicked into your brain the moment the curtains opened that morphed you into an entirely new being.

Again, Enjin didn’t know if it was sexual or something deeper than that. This was all very… new to him.

Never had he met a woman that made both his dick achingly hard in his pants while simultaneously making his heart stutter in his chest.

The crowd went crazy over your vocals, and he couldn’t help the grin that curled at his lips as he banged along to the beat of the song. Even as his arms moved on autopilot, his eyes remained on you, watching and noting every flicker of movement across the stage.

The way your throat strained with every heavy note. Or the drop of sweat that slid from your hairline and down to your eyebrow. Or the way your chest heaved in between quick breaths before you continued singing.

Fucked. He was completely fucked. Fucked, fucked, fucked, as Semiu would put lightly.

You were the only thing that ever invaded his thoughts. You were like a sweet poison that he couldn’t keep his mouth off of, suckling greedily for more and more, never getting quite enough.

He wanted you. Badly. No matter how much of an asshole you were to him, no matter how much you seemed to hate him.

He’d never wanted anything so badly before.

And now, watching as you fluttered along the stage in your band outfit, ripped tights giving off an edge to your thighs that dared to poke through the holes, or the skirt that gave little to the imagination as if swayed to and fro with your cute dance moves, he knew he was in too deep.

Fuck, dude.

How did he even get to this point?

This wasn’t normal for him. Maybe it had been too long without sex. Maybe he needed a shot at the bar and a pretty girl to wrap their manicured fingers around his bicep and ask for his name.

Maybe he wanted it to be you that he was defiling in the comfort of his messy sheets, hearing your pretty moans slip from your mouth as he fucked into you until you forgot your own name.

Frustrated, he could do nothing but bang on the drums harder, praying that the sounds are loud enough to rattle out those thoughts.

Your chest burned as you hurried off of the stage after the last set. Three full songs, new and never performed before, left in the hands of the judges to announce a score at the end of the competition – it left you all the more breathless.

Your band followed behind you, sweat mixing in their messy strands, glistening against their skin under the backstage lighting. You looked no different, makeup smudging under your eyes, skin desperately crying for a good facial cleanser and shower.

However, none of that mattered, given the circumstances. You performed well – all of you. Even… Enjin.

Hell, you hated to admit it. You wanted so badly to prove yourself right, that he was going to fuck up the competition and be a horrible drummer. You prayed he was so horrible that he was forced to leave the band, and you could finally feel a moment of peace since he’d joined.

Instead, his performance was electrifying. He controlled the flow of the songs so easily, so confidently, that he was damn near the best drummer you’d come across. Miles ahead of your previous drummer.

You knew he was good, having performed with him and the band at underground bars and paid-under-the-table stages in the Grounds until competition season, but still. Seeing him compete, sticks slamming against his drum kit like it had personally offended him, sweating dripping down his brow?

You were so fucked!

You desperately tried to avoid looking at him as Semiu cheered the five of you on, but your eyes kept creeping over to watch him.

Blonde hair plastered to his forehead in a sweaty heap. His jacket now taken off and looped around his waist, showing off the shiny sheen of sweat that layered on to chiseled muscle and biceps. His chest rising as he fought to catch his breath, tongue poking out to swipe along his bottom lip.

You quickly looked away and squeezed your eyes shut, willing that all-too familiar warmth in the pits of your stomach to go the fuck away. It was unbearable at this point, unable to so much as look at the idiot without feeling a fuckin’ throb between your legs.

Aggravating. So fuckin’ aggravating. You hated him so badly.

You hated yourself even more, knowing you wanted nothing more than for that stupid tongue of his to be swiping along your lips instead. Whether it be the ones on your face or the ones between your legs, you don’t think you particularly cared at this point.

The results for the competition wouldn’t be out until all bands performed. The top six bands would go on to play at the next competition in a few weeks, then the top three, until a winner was announced.

You practically buzzed with adrenaline, restless on your feet as you tuned out everything Semiu was saying. Your fingers twitched by your sides, eyes mindlessly watching one of the backstage screens as the next band began to perform.

You needed a smoke. Or a shot. Or a line. Or – something. Anything to ease your mind and let you drift off into blank space rather than an unrequited horny rivalry.

“Drinks on me if you make it in the top six,” Semiu said as if she had read your mind. “Until then, stick around and wait for the results. I don’t care what you do, so long as it’s in this building until the final call. Am I clear?”

Her eyes found yours and she narrowed them as if that warning was merely for you. As if she could see the bundle of energy you were containing with an itch needing to be scratched.

The band quickly agreed, and she waved a hand to dismiss you. Riyo and Zanka immediately set off to watch the performing bands together, excitedly chittering amongst each other. Gris mentioned something about needing the restroom, cluelessly wandering away with his eyes searching for a sign.

You stood in place as Enjin watched Gris’ back, before his attention turned to you. That sleazy grin crooked up on the corner of his mouth, and you desperately wanted to punch it off as much as you wanted to kiss it.

“Quite the performance, huh, lady?” he teased. His hand fumbled around in his pocket, seemingly twiddling with something that he had hidden. “Told you you’d kick ass. And yet, somehow, you were nervous.”

Somewhere deep, his words tugged, and you swallowed that praise down, putting on a scowl instead.

“I told you I wasn’t nervous,” you retorted sharply.

He chuckled, cocking his head slightly to the side. His eyes bore into your face and you continued staring at the TV screen to avoid it. His eyes seemed to follow yours, pretending to be intrigued with the performing band.

“You seem to be wound up awfully tight tonight,” he noted casually, eyes flickering over to your tense shoulders and permanent scowl. “How’s about we put the beef to the side until the results come in and celebrate our first competition together?”

You slowly turned your head to look at him, taking in the easy smile. His hand was no longer in his pocket. Instead, he held up a crumpled old box, popping open the lid to showcase a few prerolled joints that were practically calling your name.

Fuck. Even the sight of it had your hands itching to pluck one for yourself.

He shook it as if taunting you, the joints rattling lightly in the box.

“What d’ya say?” he asked lightly. “Joint for your thoughts?”

Your shoulders dropped in defeat, knowing you had already lost the battle before it began. Your mind desperately needed an outlet, and he was practically waving it in your face. There was no way you’d say no, and perhaps he already knew that.

“Maybe just one,” you muttered shamefully, embarrassed that you had fallen for it so easily.

Enjin was supposed to be the man you hated. Sure, you wanted to fuck him, but still. He was a menace! You were supposed to stick to your guns and never give in, no matter how pretty he was under the stage lighting or how convincing the raspiness in his voice was.

Yet, here you were, shuffling down the hallway of the backstage like a fuckin’ puppy, following behind him until the two of you were shut into your assigned practice room.

The air was cool from the air conditioning, and you released a relieved breath, flopping down onto one of the sofas. While you expected him to sit across from you on the other sofa, he instead sat beside you, his long legs spreading just enough to brush against the side of your thigh.

The breath you were releasing got choked in your throat, and you quickly recovered by pretending to cough, turning your head away.

“Jesus, girlie, we ain’t even started and you’re already coughin’,” Enjin said in amusement, slouching into the couch so his feet could plant to the floor comfortably. “Thought you were a smoker.”

“I am,” you defended almost immediately, shooting him a sideways glare. “My throat’s just… sore. Y’know, from singing.”

“Mhm.”

Enjin had that stupid fuckin’ grin on his face when you looked. Completely unfazed by your typical attitude, one he’d grown accustomed to over the year he’s come to know you. One he wished he could fuck out of you one day just to hear you shut the hell up.

Dismissing that thought, he quickly tugged a joint out of its wrinkled case, reaching into his other pocket to fish out an old lighter. You did nothing but watch the TV in the room as the performances continued outside, the muffled sound of heavy bass and drums rattling the walls.

“Here,” he said, and when you turned to look, he was holding the joint out to you, the filter facing you. You blinked in confusion, looking up at him before he snickered. “Ladies first, doll. I’m a gentlemen after all.”

Rolling your eyes, you plucked it from his fingers, placing it between your lips. You went to take the lighter, but he surprised you instead by flicking it a couple of times to life, cupping the end of the joint and bringing the dancing flame to burn the paper until the familiar taste of herb invaded your tastebuds.

Mumbling a thanks, he merely shrugged, carelessly tossing the lighter on to the table. He leaned back on the sofa, head pressed against the back of it, eyes trained on the TV.

You did nothing but puff at the joint, watching the TV with him, though you were hardly paying attention. A band named the Raiders blasted from the TV, filling the room with its edgy noise, yet it all droned off into muffled quiet when you couldn’t stop focusing on the warmth his thigh emitted into yours from where it dug in.

“They’re pretty good,” he mused from beside you, eyes squinting to get a better view.

You slipped out of your daze just enough to listen to a few chords before shrugging. “They’re alright,” you mumbled back, filling your lungs with more of his earthy drug.

You held the joint out to him, ignoring the way his fingers grazed yours when he took it. You swallowed, letting your hands fall into your lap instead.

“How supportive of you,” he teased with a grin. “Such a team player.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and settling deeper into the couch to the point you were peacefully melting into the fabric. “It’s a competition, idiot,” you muttered, glancing at him from your peripheral.

He snickered through a hit, smoke pillowing out of the corners of his mouth and rising into the air in a curling dance. You tried not to watch too hard.

“Nothin’ wrong with bein’ nice to your enemies,” he mused, leaning over to tap the burning ash into the lonesome tray on the table that still held his old cigarette butt from earlier. “Might not be such a grouch if you gave ‘em a chance.”

“If some people learned to shut the fuck up, I might be more open,” you snapped defensively, though as always, he took in stride like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Enjin blew a low whistle before taking another heavy hit on the joint. Once finished, he passed it back to you, which you graciously plucked and began nursing.

“You always this much of a bitch, or is it just with me?” he dared to ask, though his tone remained amused.

“M’not a bitch,” you retorted blandly, keeping your eyes glued to the TV.

“And the sky isn’t blue,” he argued back instantly, smirking when you shot him a wicked glare. He threw his hands up in defense before letting them settle atop his thighs. “Just sayin’. You got all this bark like a little ass chihuahua tryna fight a rottweiler. It’s cute.”

You nearly crushed the joint between your fingers when he talked. That stupid pool of warmth settled at the bottom of your stomach, and you could do nothing but sit there and let it fester until it made you sweat.

God, you wished he would shut up. He was always talking, always reading you like an open fuckin’ book, and it was so irritating. You truly despised him.

You said nothing, simply letting the smoke filter in your lungs and turn your brain into putty. The effects of his weed settled deep in my bones, sifting through my bloodstream until there was nothing but a comforting buzz.

The silence was comforting between you, though you weren’t too sure if it was from being high or from actual comfort in his presence.

“You know what I think your problem is?”

Ah. So much for relaxation.

You finally turned to look at him, joint burning between your thumb and index. You stared at him with a look of boredom, one you had to muster to hide the growing complexity that would certainly shine through your pupils. The type of complexity that was telling you that fucking your bandmate was completely reasonable.

“Yeah? What’s that?” you asked.

Enjin grinned impossibly wide. His arm lifted to rest on the back of the sofa near your head, and he leaned forward in your bubble, nose practically brushing yours.

His yellow eyes bore into yours like knives, and you could feel the tension cutting right through your corneas.

“I think,” he began, voice so soft and sultry it had your head spinning, “that you haven’t been fucked properly in a minute, so allll that frustration is bein’ taken out on poor ol’ me.”

The room suddenly felt much warmer, temperature rising ten degrees. You could feel a small drip of sweat along the back of your neck, trailing down and dipping into the collar of your shirt. The air around the two of you felt thicker, suffocating you until your lungs burned and ached.

“…What?” you asked breathlessly.

Enjin did nothing to break the two of you apart, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. The joint that was burning in your fingers, forgotten, was plucked away from his own. He lifted it until the filter was pressed to your lips, and you did nothing to fight back. You simply parted your lips enough to wrap them around the joint, inhaling the drug.

“Oh, I think you heard me loud and clear, doll,” he hummed in amusement. He pulled back just enough to stare at your lips, watching them puff on the joint.

Even as the joint was removed from your lips and instead placed between his, you said nothing, merely blinking at him in bewilderment.

 “Hm. Didn’t really take you for the shy type, but maybe you just needed somebody to shut you the fuck up for once, yeah?” he breathed, the billowing smoke curling around both of you. “You’re reeeal cute when you’re not barkin’.”

Your mouth opened, then closed, then repeated until you decided to keep it shut. For once, you didn’t have a clever retort or a witty comeback. The weed was definitely getting to you, rendering you stupid, your brain shutting down and becoming nothing but a buzzing pile of mush.

He successfully had you speechless, and you hated it. Hated him. Hated how much you wanted him.

“I despise you,” you said, though your voice came out much weaker than you intended, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” he pressed with a wicked grin. “You gonna do somethin’ about it?”

If he was high too, then it didn’t show. He was always so easily confident in everything that he did, it was annoying. He didn’t seem phased by anything. Not even being within an inch of your lips. That was something weed could never change about him.

You chewed on his words and swallowed them. They felt heavy going down, filling your stomach with an uncomfortable flutter of what you could only assume were butterflies. Honestly, though, they felt more like moths with how conflicted you felt.

Fuck.

This was an open opportunity, right in the palm of your hands. You didn’t think he was teasing you for the hell of it. Not this time. He was still nose to nose with you, a challenge glinting back at you in those stupid eyes of his.

He wanted you to make the first move. To let go of that built up tension that had settled in your bones for nearly a year. He was offering you an outlet, free of charge, and you were slowly falling into the trap.

“Cat got your tongue, or do I gotta fish it out for ya?”

That was the final straw. His pestering words had you growing the balls you wished you had long ago, lifting a hand to fist into the collar of his stupid tank top, urging him forward until your teeth clacked with his.

He let out a surprised groan, clearly not expecting you to actually do it. A sense of accomplishment settled somewhere deep inside of you, knowing that for once, you were the one catching him off guard.

His hand that rested on the back of the couch slid to the back of your neck, rough fingertips digging into your soft skin and keeping you still.

His lips moved hazardously against yours, completely taken over by need. The two of you fell into a chaotic dance of lip and tongue, somehow creating a rhythm that only musicians like you could find after such disaster. 

“Shit,” he breathed through a quick break in your kiss. “Fuck, thereee she is. See? Ain’t that hard to just shut up and let somebody take the reins for once, hm?”

Your chest heaved as you caught your breath, your eyes shimmering with a mixture of annoyance and desire as you stared at him through heavy eyelids.

“I hate you,” you muttered, voice laced with lust. “I really fuckin’ hate you.”

“I know,” he practically purred, leaning in to smile against your lips. Not quite a kiss, but bordering, until he switched it up to brush his lips across your cheek and along your jaw. “That’s why you’re gonna let me fuck that attitude right out of you ‘til you’re nothin’ but a cryin’ mess. Ain’t that righ’?”

No. You wanted so badly to fight, to tell him to fuck off and leave you alone, but you couldn’t. No matter how much you despised Enjin, your desire to fuck him weighed even more.

You needed him biblically.

Needed to trace your tongue along those stupid tattoos of his, to feel the heaviness of his dick in the back of your throat, to feel the head of him press into your cervix until you were nothing but a babbling mess.

“Yeah,” you said instead, completely against your own stubbornness. It felt sour coming out of your mouth, but you couldn’t deny yourself any further. It’d be torture if you did.

“Oh?” he breathed, his grin only widening further. You could see a glint of something primal in his gaze, like he was waiting for the perfect moment to pounce. “Looks like it’ll be a lot easier than I thought.”

Before you could think up something cocky to say, his lips mushed into yours so desperately that it hurt. You sucked in a breath before letting him completely take over, losing the battle against the clack of teeth and tongue.

You were completely under his whim, already faltering in your own fight.

You don’t remember how you ended up in his lap, but your thighs caged each of his thick ones, his hair tangled in your hair to tug and hold you in place. His free hand rested on your hip, thumb brushing along the hem of your shirt and dipping under the fabric to brush against your smooth skin.

His mouth was sloppy against the column of your throat, yet so painstakingly slow that you wanted to grab his own head of hair and force him to move quicker. You knew he was doing it on purpose, and it aggravated you to no end.

“You’re too fuckin’ slow,” you complained, though it sounded far more needier than what you intended.

Your hand flitted up to curl into the messy strands on his head, hips shifting impatiently. With a grip of his hair, you pulled him back to pout down at him, to which he responded with a lazy grin.

“Needy thing,” he noted smugly. The fingers that threatened to slip under your shirt had successfully broken through the barrier, coming to curl around your ribcage. “But m’not here to go at your pace, doll. I told you that I’m gonna fuck that attitude out of you, and I meant it.”

His hand continued to slide up, sending goosebumps along your skin. He stopped where your breasts rested, fingers coming up to tug one of them out of your bra, letting it fall into his hands. Without a warning, two of his fingers pinched at your nipple until it hardened under his touch, causing your back to arch.

“You got a problem with that?” he challenged.

You couldn’t help but scoff, feeling that familiar bubble of annoyance rise in you. You couldn’t help it — you had a temper, which is exactly what he’s trying to get at. With all of the heavy adrenaline from the busy day, you wanted nothing more than to simply pull out his dick from its restraints and fill yourself up with him selfishly.

Something in his pupils darkened at your lack of response, and the hand that was tangled in your hair slipped down to grab at your cheeks, fingertips digging into your supple skin. His force caused your lips to mush together, and you pathetically faltered.

You hated how the roughness only spurred on the wetness between your legs more. It was incredibly hot, and you hated it.

“What’d I ask, doll?” he asked again, giving you a second chance to answer. The hand that was on your breast plucked at your nipple once more, pinching it with his rough fingers.

The sensation had you squirming, a breathy noise escaping your throat.

“You asked… if I had a problem,” you mumbled through his grasp on your cheeks.

“So you do listen,” he noted dryly.

His fingers let go of your nipple, gliding his hand across your chest to tug the other breast out, repeating the same action on that one. He ignored your useless squirming, eyes unwavering from yours as he held your gaze.

“And do you?” he asked slowly.

You should’ve said no. Should’ve immediately submitted and apologized for not listening to him. But unfortunately, mama didn’t raise no bitch, and you could feel that familiar urge to fight back and make it his problem.

“Yeah,” you said bluntly. “I said you’re too slow.”

Enjin froze where he sat, his eyes practically piercing through your soul. His hand beneath your shirt had stopped moving, leaving your nipples to poke through the fabric of your shirt, unattended.

You immediately regretted being a brat. You had never seen Enjin appear so serious, so pissed, and though it was all for the love of the game (and dick), you weren’t exactly sure you could handle all that. After all, from where you sat in his lap, you knew he wasn’t exactly lacking in the dick department — in fact, he was excelling, and the thought of seeing it up close and personal had you nauseated from nerves.

“Is that so?” was the only thing you heard before you were suddenly shoved off of his lap.

Your knees hit the carpet before you could think, a small ‘oof’ leaving your mouth. Your eyes widened in a mix of fear and excitement when you realized what was glaring back at you, unable to look away as Enjin’s large hands began unbuckling the belt of his pants.

Shit. Shit, shit, you were so screwed.

A smile lifted on your face, and Enjin’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance.

“You smilin’?” he asked huskily, cocking his head to the side. As if a wicked thought came across his mind, he chuckled. “S’okay. Won’t be for long.”

His words made your smile drop as you shifted your eyes to look up at him. That look of uncertainty on your face had him being the one to smile this time, wicked and evil.

The idiot was just as perverted as you.

His pants became undone and his large hand reached in to tug himself free. You felt your mouth go dry at the sight, swallowing down a lump in your throat.

Yeah. You were completely screwed.

He was big. Much bigger than anybody you’d been with. The tip was an angry flush of red, and the more you moved down to the base, prominent veins popped and curved along the smooth skin. Trailing down to where it connected with the rest of his body, tufts of blonde hair peeked out and trailed up to his belly button.

“Where’d that smile go, doll?” he asked mockingly, lips puckering into a fake pout.

You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself to meet his eyes and keep his gaze. You were too mortified to stare at the monster between his legs, lest you wanted to face the reality that that thing would have to fit inside of you.

“Sorry,” you whispered weakly. Pathetically.

Enjin almost didn’t recognize it as an apology.

You? Apologizing? Unheard of.

“You’re sorry?” he cooed, reaching a hand out to rest it along your cheek, his ring finger rested under your ear. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the touch, your pupils becoming more pleading.

You gave him a curt nod, one at which he laughed at.

“That’s too bad, sweetheart,” he said with a dramatic sigh. His gaze lowered to your mouth, thumb brushing along your bottom lip. You part them instinctively. “M’still gonna fuck this mouth regardless.”

An excited warmth filled your stomach, and you shifted on your knees restlessly, eyes dropping down to the cock he held with his other hand. Pre beaded at the tip, and you impatiently leaned forward to poke your tongue out and collect it on your tastebuds.

Enjin let out a surprised noise before slipping his hand to the back of your head instead, not quite guiding you forward but rather resting it there, encouraging you if this was still something you wanted.

To back out now would be silly of you. You definitely wanted this. It was a long time coming, and you could only hope that it was a long time of you coming if you continued.

Ha.

You couldn’t help but wrinkle your nose up at your own joke that played in your mind. Enjin threw you a curious eyebrow raise but didn’t question it, merely watching as you finally leaned forward enough to take the head of him into the warmth of your mouth.

Instantly, he let out a sigh, sinking into the sofa and letting his head fall back against the back.

You were eager to get a taste, eager to make this entire fantasy worthwhile, but damn was his dick big. Even with experience, you could feel the corners of your mouth slightly stretch to accommodate his girth as you slowly took your time sliding your mouth down.

His hand in your hand slightly tightened. You could feel him holding himself back until you got adjusted, and a flicker of annoyance flashed through you.

Lifting your head and releasing him with a pop, you glared at him, keeping a hand wrapped tightly around the base.

“What was that you were saying earlier?” you asked, clicking your tongue in thought. “All bark, no bite?’ Cause that’s what I’m starting to see, too.”

Enjin’s eyebrow cocked up and one corner of his mouth lifted into a crooked smile. He adjusted his hips, lifting them to move a couple inches forward, boots planted flat on the floor.

“I was tryin’ to be a gentleman,” he muttered in feigned amusement. You could feel the annoyance seeping through. “But since you wanna keep yappin’, I’ll give you somethin’ to shut you the fuck up.”

His hand was quick to wrap your hair around his fingers, tight against your skull. Before you could barely suck in a breath, one of his thumbs hooked into your mouth and pried open your jaw, sinking his cock into your warmth.

Your eyes went wide and your hands were quick to dig into his thighs as the burning stretch of your mouth took over the more he forced himself inside. You could feel the sticky tip claim the back of your throat, and you gurgled around him, eyes burning with tears.

“Ohhh, that’s better, yeah?” he jeered, grinning down at you like you were a damn piece of meat. “That shut you right up. That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

He cackled low, the sound vibrating all the way through his body. You felt it in the back of your throat where he became relentless, hips thrusting up from the couch to force himself deeper. You could do nothing but sit there and take it, moaning pathetically around his dick, saliva blubbering out from the corners of your mouth in a dribbling puddle.

“God, look at me, angel,” he huffed out, voice laced with pure desire.

Your watery eyes drifted up to stare up at him, pupils blown black, a glaze hazed over them. Your mind was turning into mush at the mere suckle of his dick, and you could only imagine how fucked you’ll be when he actually takes you.

“Yeeeah,” he said smugly, his free hand coming to brush against your cheek. His thumb lightly rubbed away a stray tear that cascaded down your cheek. “So fuckin’ pretty when you’re not talkin’. Even prettier with a dick in your mouth, fuck.”

Your thighs instinctively squeezed together, and as if he had tunnel vision and could see right through you, he clicked his tongue.

“Needy li’l thing, aren’t ya?”

You hated how his words, so degrading and mocking, sent heatwaves that throbbed right into your pussy. Every shift of your hips or adjustment of your position did little to provide any stimulation to your poor clit that practically begged to be touched.

He knew that, too. He thrived off of knowing that.

“Poor thing,” he mocked, pouting down at you. As if to prove his point further, his hand in your hair pressed you down until your nose collided with the soft tufts of pubic hair at the base.

You had to force yourself to breathe through your nose, feeling the thickness of his head dipping dangerously into your airways, bruising the back of your throat.

Helpless tears streamed down your face, and your fingernails dug into the denim of his cargo pants, desperate to cling on to something.

Your eyes met his once more and as if he felt pity, he pulled you back up by the hair, all the way until he popped out of your mouth with nothing but a thick string of saliva keeping you connected. Your breaths came out shaky and raspy, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“Think you learned your lesson yet, doll?” he asked sweetly, dipping his thumb into the plush of your bottom lip, breaking the string of saliva. “I’d be more than happy to fuck it into ya if you haven’t.”

Tempted to say no simply for the fact that he was offering to fuck you through it, you decided against it, your mind too clouded with lust to want to argue anymore. You were pliant and satiated, desperate to get a taste of him inside of you.

“En,” you whimpered pathetically, eyes glossed over.

Seeing you in this state, so sweet and pitiful, made his heart pick up speed. This was a sight he imagined for nearly a year — a painfully long, dick-aching year — and now, he wished he could photograph the look on your face and permanently inject it into his veins to replay any time he wanted.

He’d be damned if this ended up as the only time. He’d be damned if you didn’t end up as his by the end of it. 

He sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, his resolve faltering. How could he keep up being so nasty when you were this sweet from a little weed and some dick?

Fuck.

“C’mon,” he urged, shifting a boot under your ass to nudge you up. “Stand up, sweetheart.”

You followed without complaint, sitting up on your knees and pushing yourself with your hands to stand on shaky legs. You peered at him, lips glossed with spit, makeup smudged filthily under your eyes.

You were a sight to behold, and Enjin nearly busted all over his pants like a high schooler just from looking at you.

He reached forward, steadying his large hands on your waist. He hummed in approval at the feeling of your warm skin under his rough palms, moving to slip your shirt over your head.

You did little to fight it, simply lifting your arms and allowing the fabric to fall to the floor in a ruffled pile.

Your breasts were already spilling out of your bra from his previous teasing, so he made haste to unclip it from the back, letting it fall to the floor with your shirt.

God, you were a dream.

He eagerly pulled you in, spreading his legs to fit you between them. He wasted no time in placing a hand between your shoulder blades and pressing you against him so his mouth could slip one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue circling around it greedily.

You let out a surprised yelp, fingernails digging into his broad shoulders to find something to ground you. Your skin rose with goosebumps, and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Fuck,” he murmured against you, teeth clamping lightly around your nipple and tugging. You were so responsive, squirming in his hold and letting out pretty gasps that it drove him crazy. “Such a pretty girl.”

He pulled back for a fraction, only to switch to the other nipple, unwilling to leave it neglected. Your legs trembled as you held yourself up, mouth letting out soft whimpers with every lick and suck he did to your poor bud.

“Take these off,” he grumbled, fingers slipping down to the waistband of your skirt combined with the tights you wore underneath.

You couldn’t help but huff out a laugh, dipping your own fingers under the bands and sliding them down your thighs, careful not to rip the already shredded tights.

They’re cute! you had told Gris when he asked what the point of them were.

They’re… ripped, he had said with a sigh, before muttering about how he didn’t care all that much and that he was wrong to question a woman’s fashion sense.

Enjin thought back to that time, nearly wanting to strangle Gris for being so fuckin’ airheaded when they were the perfect type of tights to squeeze your thighs and show off enough to skin to have the average man drool like a dog.

He never imagined he’d be watching you slip them off, leaving you completely naked and bare to him.

“Fuck, look at you, angel,” he sighed dreamily, a crooked grin quirking up on his mouth. “So fuckin’ pretty. Too bad your attitude needs work.”

You couldn’t help but pout, and he seriously nearly caved in right there.

Where was his argumentative girl, the one who threw insults every which way and called him

the most vile names a person could think of?

Already fucked stupid, that was what. Stupid and high, and oh so pliant for him already. You got your face fucked for a bit and you were practically purring in his lap like a damn cat.

His fingertips drifted down your sides, his touch featherlight, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He settled one of his hands on your hips to hold you steady while the other slid between the aching pussy between your legs, slipping his calloused middle finger along your soaking folds.

“Christ, doll, y’already this fuckin’ wet from a little blowjob?” he asked tauntingly, grinning wickedly at the way your knees knobbed together as you struggled to stay standing.

“S-Shut up,” you managed to mutter, and he was too infatuated to care that you talked back.

His eyes flickered down to your aching heat, taking in the way his finger was absolutely soaked with your slick. He shifted so his ring finger joined with his middle, slowly slipping along your folds, gathering up your nectar.

He slid the tips of his fingers up until he gave an experimental circle of your clit. You nearly clambered forward, knees buckling. His grip on your hip tightened, and he urged you back on to his lap, hovering just enough to where he could admire your glistening folds that puffed out and chased after his prodding fingers.

His cock stood heavy between your bodies, nestled right against his belly button, the head leaking small droplets of precum. The more he touched you, the more it seemed to twitch on its own, like it was itching to get a feel of your gummy insides.

He glanced up at you the moment he inserted those two fingers, dragging them along your walls and pressing into the hilt of his knuckles. He watched your face fall, mouth dropping open and eyes tilting into a sultry heaviness that had him spilling out more precum from the mere sight of you.

“Thereee you go, sweetheart,” he murmured raspily, grinning up at you while he chose a pace to fuck his fingers to. A soft squelch sound filled the room, overpowering the TV that continued to play whatever band was currently competing. “She jus’ needed a little attention, ain’t that righ’? Now you’re sweet as a bunny.”

You were completely checked out, eyes hazed over and heavy. Your chest heaved with every squelch of his fingers inside of you, and your hips desperately began to chase after them with every meager thrust. A needy whimper escaped your lips as you fought for more, but it wasn’t enough.

“Need more, En,” you whined, voice completely fucked out.

“Yeah?” he hummed in amusement, unrelenting on finger fucking you. “And what do you say, doll?”

Your back arched when his fingers crooked up, hitting a sweet spot that had your thighs trembling and your fingernails digging into his forearms.

“Fuck— please, En,” you cried, grinding your hips down in a pathetic attempt. “Please, I need more. Want you inside.”

Enjin’s smile only turned more sinister. His dick throbbed painfully between his legs, desperate to fill you up and finally claim his spot in you that he’s been waiting to fill ever since he joined the band. God, he’s had his eyes on you from the very beginning, shamefully fucking any woman who gave him the time of day to forget about how much you seemed to hate him.

But you didn’t hate him, no. You just needed to be treated right. Needed this pussy to be treated right, and you’d be putty in his hands for as long as you’d let yourself be.

“So she can be a sweetheart,” he mused teasingly. He leaned in to press his mouth against one of your breasts, digging his teeth in and sucking to leave a faint bruise. He soothed over the ache with his tongue. “All ya had to say was please, baby. I’ll take care of the rest.”

With a hand on your hip, he held you up on your knees. It was easy to guide his cock to your slicked pussy, dragging the head through your folds before finally, finally, he pressed through the first ring of your entrance.

Your mouth was slack, eyes struggling to stay open. He couldn’t take his eyes away from you, watching every flicker of reaction that flashed across your beautiful face. He was completely enamored, no longer aiming to shut you up but to rather fill you up with nothing but him until you forgot your own fuckin’ name.

“Good girl,” he encouraged smugly, letting you take your time to adjust to his size.

With every inch that you slowly sunk down on, you felt more and more full, feeling warmth in the pit of your belly. It was too much, but so fucking good, you wanted more. You felt greedy, wanting to force yourself down and take him all in at once.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured, eyes flicking down to the way you were swallowing him. “Not too much at once, yeah? Slow.”

“Enjin,” you huffed through gasps of air, annoyance tinging your tone. Back to your roots you go! “You’re pissin’ me off. For the love of god, fuck me.”

Enjin froze, staring up at you with an unreadable expression. You nearly regretted your words the moment they came out when you saw the pure irritation taint his yellow irises.

He was being so patient, letting you be selfish after practically fucking your throat raw earlier, and now, that little string he had left for you had snapped.

Without warning, he sunk you down on the rest of his cock, punching the air out of your lungs. He set a brutal pace, not even allowing you the time to adjust — no, you lost that privilege the moment you opened your bratty mouth.

“Enjin!” you shouted, fingernails digging into his shoulders as you tried to hold on.

His boots were planted on the floor once more as he angrily slammed his hips up into yours, resonating a loud slap sound that rang in your ears. His fingers dug into the plush of your hips, so tightly they would definitely be leaving bruises in their wake.

“Fuckin’ brat,” he huffed out in annoyance, his eyebrow twitching with focus as he stared down at your bodies. “I try to be nice, try to take it slow, and you go back to runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth.”

Enjin’s gaze flickered up to watch your expression, absolutely grinning at the drool that pebbled in the corner of your mouth and the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

The sounds that escaped you were absolutely pathetic, broken little moans that got cut off with desperate gasps of air. It was addicting, your pussy luring him in like a drug.

“Fuckin’ spoiled, you are,” he laughed mockingly, grabbing your cheeks with a hand to make you look at him. “S’that why you’re always bitchy? ‘Cause you’re a spoiled brat?”

You practically sobbed, tears streaming down your cheeks at his brutal pace, smudging your makeup in black streaks.

“C’mon, doll,” he taunted, shifting his hand to rest under your chin, wrapping around your throat. “Answer.”

“Yes!” you cried, voice wrecked, cracking with the tears that streamed down your cheeks.

“Yeeeah,” he grumbled cockily, laughing breathlessly through his aggressive pace. “Spoiled fuckin’ brat just needed some dick to shut her up this whole time.”

You wailed at the slam of your hips against his, feeling the tip of his cock wound your cervix. It was so much, yet not enough at the same. You needed more, needed to feel him burrow inside of you until you were filled with nothing but his seed.

You didn’t know how much longer you could hold on. Your stomach coiled tight with a familiar knot, and it only pulled tighter the more he slammed into you.

“En— EnEnEn,” you gasped out, brained turned to mush, unable to form a proper sentence. “Need to—fuck, m’so close.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, though he wasn’t too far behind.

He’d been dreaming of fucking you for a year. He knew he wasn’t going to be able to last as long as he normally could. Besides, with how you looked right now?

Fuck, you were lucky he didn’t paint your insides from the first thrust.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he encouraged. His hand slipped down from your throat to rest on your navel, thumb swiping across your swollen clit.

The stimulation had you trembling, uncontrollable wails filling the room. You squirmed frantically, feeling that build up ready to burst, but he held you steady with his other hand, forcing you to bounce on his dick and take exactly what you needed.

“Look at you, such a fuckin’ wreck.” He chuckled cheekily, throwing his head against the back of the couch to peer up at you in fascination. “Gonna come all over me, yeah? C’mon, sweetheart.”

Snap.

The coil in you tightened until it broke, and you sobbed as your entire body was flooded with piping hot ecstasy. It was the hardest you’d ever finished, seeing stars glimmering behind your eyelids, your body falling limp in his hold.

“Thaaat’s it, doll,” he huffed out through his own frantic breaths.

He continued to slam you down on his cock, even after your body was spent and unable to be held up on your own until he painted your walls a hot white, spilling into you with the tip of his cock practically kissing your cervix. You whimpered at the feeling of being so full and warm, and he brought a hand up to your hair as he rode out the aftershocks, cradling your head in the crook of his neck.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered through his teeth, stuck in a daze of his own high.

The room filled with comfortable silence apart from the TV and your shared heavy breaths. His ears tuned in to the TV, noting how the last band was performing and that you’d have to hurry to make it to the result announcement.

“Y’alright, sweetheart?” he asked kindly, carefully lifting your head from his neck to take a look at you.

You looked exhausted, sticky strands of hair stuck to your forehead, eyes barely open. Your lips were swollen and bruised, skin clammy with sweat.

For a moment, he felt like he’d done too much. However, that quickly melted away when he saw your lips curl into a tired smile, as if you read the worries in his mind.

“Mm,” you hummed, content. “M’good.”

Enjin smiled, breathing out of a soft laugh.

He was careful in the way he gently pulled you off of him, leaving you leaking and empty, something you clearly weren’t too fond of. He laid you back on the couch, watching as you curled into it, and made quick work of tucking his dick in his pants and presenting himself as somewhat decent.

“Wait here, m’kay?” he murmured, leaning down to press a lingering kiss to your ear.

You simply hummed and nodded, tired eyes watching the last band perform.

You laid, completely spent, waiting for Enjin to return. It didn’t take him long, coming back with a clean rag he plucked off of one of the backstage workers, cleaning you up with attentive care. It made something unfamiliar flutter in your chest.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he encouraged, helping you sit up so you tug on your clothes. “Top six is bein’ announced soon. Semiu still owes us drinks for when we qualify, so perk up a bit, yeah?”

You nodded dumbly, simply throwing on the clothes without much of a care. You patted your hands against your scalp to lay down any frazzled hair, then wiped your fingers beneath your eyes to smudge away any of the stray makeup.

“Do I look okay?” you mumbled groggily, looking up at Enjin from where he stood in front of you.

He held back a snort, helping you stand on wobbly legs, letting you find your balance.

“Peachy,” he teased, to which you pinched his arm and grumbled under your breath.

You hurriedly found the rest of your band backstage, Semiu’s eyes nearly bursting out of her head when she’d seen you.

“The fuck happened to you?” she asked, reaching up to brush one of her knuckles against your cheek.

You swatted her away, wrinkling your nose and telling her you’d explain another time. For now, you were worried about the scores as you joined Gris, Zanka, and Riyo, the girl in question excitedly chirping in your ear about all of the great performances tonight.

You felt Enjin lingering behind you, his eyes focused on the screen as the judges tallied up their votes.

Gris gave you a sideways glance, one to which you mirrored, before he broke out in a knowing grin, opting to shut up for now.

The waiting game for the results was torturous, but unsurprising, your band had made it through to the next round, placing 3rd — not too shabby for a bunch of sexually pent up bandmates and their first competition with a new drummer.

As promised, Semiu dragged the five of you out for drinks at a rundown old bar downtown, celebrating your successful win and already plotting on the next competition in a few weeks.

“Think round two might encourage some good luck?” Enjin asked, low enough so only you could hear.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and tipping your head back to take a shot Semiu bought.

“I still hate you,” you muttered, though your words held no heat.

Enjin barked out a laugh, slapping an obnoxious hand on the table. Your bandmates stared at him in amusement while Semiu tried to get him to pipe down, moaning about manners.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, sweetheart,” he chided cheekily, sliding his fingers around his own shot glass and throwing it back.

[nyny-berry71]

Weak-Gachiakuta’ boys

Pairing: Gachiakuta Boys x Female Reader

Summary: He absolutely adores it when you trace each of his features from the tip of your finger. "I thrive on your touch."

Tag/Warning: Suggestive content, domestic fluff.

a/n: Please, my bllk requests are open. I really can't bring myself to keep publishing these jokes of writing.

────୨ৎ────

Enjin ⋆˚꩜｡

Straddled over his body, his hands were tightly gripping your hips, eyes firmly locked on your calm face, focused on your task.

Like a pleasant tingling sensation, the tip of your finger traced the outline of each of his tattoos made him shiver.

Begging for more when, just for a second, you’d lift your finger from this canvas that was his entire body.

He loved above all else those moments behind closed doors, just you and him, when he let you do whatever you wanted of him.

"I think I'm going to stop. You seem bored."

Coming out of his reverie, he gently pulled your arms, forcing you to lean against his bare chest, wrists trapped by his embrace.

"I'll never get bored, please continue."

He sounded beggy, nearly whimpering for more of your attention, music to your ears.

The sight you had of him, crouched beneath your figure, was delightfully sweet for your gaze.

"Here’s my needy man."

You rolled your eyes, amused by his sudden twitch in composure, before bending forward. Closest as ever to his lips.

"Shall I continue, or…would you prefer to do something else?"

A double entendre could imply a whole lot of things, but that gentle and soft whisper filled with devilish hesitation meant only one thing; it was time to shed the last of their clothes.

His lips slowly melted into yours before breaking the embrace, a trail of saliva still connecting you.

"Lemme take care of you…please."

How pitiful he was. Everything you adored. "I don’t know."

Pressing a finger to your pouty lips, faking hesitation with the greatest acting performance, you watched him turn pale, his lips trying to stammer out a comprehensible sentence.

"Please…I need you."

Tamsy ⋆˚꩜｡

The man who held many secrets possessed one that was even more precious, dear to his tender soul.

A secret that only vanished in your presence.

At night, when others were asleep and you would sneak into his room, he’d shed all the layers that hide his battered body.

Presenting himself as vulnerable to you alone.

Among the many scars that marked his body, the ones you cherished most were undoubtedly those that adorned his face.

Even though your fingernails always lingered on each one, never leaving a scar untouched by your gentle caress, the ones closest to his eyes had won your heart.

Both lying in his bed, inches away from each other, he watched you playing with his features, the warmth of your skin transcending deeply within him.

Delicately, as if you were handling a fragile vase, you traced over and over the very same spot.

Each of your strokes procured him a thrilling sensation that spread through all his muscles, better than an adrenaline rush.

Yet, after hours of a silent and restless embrace, he felt your movements becoming weak and sloppy. Watching with amusement as you fought against drowsiness, your heavy eyelids closing of their own.

"I think it's time for me to go."

You mumbled, already asleep, your palm remaining against his cheek.

And gently, being careful not to wake you, he took your hand in his, and slid it up to his neck, forcing your fingers apart so they would completely enclose around his throat.

Every night, when you’d succumb to sleepiness, he’ll melt one last time under your unconscious touch.

Satisfying the unhealthy pleasure of feeling you near his carotid artery.

The closest ever to death.

Just 12 seconds away from atoning for his sins.

He longed for that moment when all he could feel was you.

Zodyl ⋆˚꩜｡

He'll never admit it out loud, but your delicate hands stroking his hair as he lay between your thighs were by far the most important part of his routine.

The bit no one knew about.

Running through his hair, your fingers were so soft and tender he almost forgot he was your boss at the helm of a questionable organisation.

Yet, when he looked up and saw how your mouth twisted into a discreet smile, seemingly happy he had finally granted you a little of his time, he let out a sigh.

"Am I boring you? I can leave you alone if you want."

Your words, betraying a certain fear of disturbing him, annoyed him. Even more than your hand breaking its embrace from him.

And without saying a word, he grabbed your wrist, forcing it back onto his head.

"I didn't say anything. Go on."

Cold, almost threatening, his voice commanded, and you complied. Resuming your caresses with a touch of something extra.

Tracing his jaw, your fingers lingered around his lips, your thumb softly pressed against them.

Paralyzed, he couldn’t do nothing under your spell, eyes following the path of your pupils. The very same who seemed to only distinguish his lips.

Incredulous, he watched you as you bent over his stoic figure, mere inches from doing something so wrong in the eyes of others.

Locking your eyes in his, you observed his lashes fluttering, unable to hold your gaze.

"Can I?"

Simple. Silent. A nod of approval was all he needed to give you every right over him.

Pressing his eyes closed, you broke the few inches that separated you, your lips meeting his in a sweet clash.

Filled with a tenderness he had been lacking for so long.

"Let me help you relax, Zodyl."

Jabber ⋆˚꩜｡

In all the time you had worked together, you had never seen Jabber so calm, docile under your light grasp.

Sitting astride his back, your hand traced each of his muscles. Feeling all of the curves he had worked hard for, sensing every single one of his twitch under your skin.

From the lower of his back to its top, he shivered as your nail brushed against his bare skin, barely able to contain his excitement.

Muffled groans constantly escaping his lips.

"Are you upset?"

You innocently asked, hands reaching his shoulders and your hips leaning in to see more closely if he was angry.

He tensed up when he felt your warm breath caressing his neck and your chest nearly resting on his back.

It surprised you to see him burying his head deep within his arms, as if he was trying to escape from your gaze. Hide something very, very bad.

"Jabber, are you sulking?"

"…No…"

Barely audible, his voice trembled, uttering with a great difficulty this simple word.

"Well then, look at me."

No response at first, all you could heard was his heavy breathing. Yet all it took was a firmer pinch on his shoulders for him to deign to look at you.

Pitiful.

His eyes were full of a lustful gleam he desperately needed to get out of his mind. It was hard to ignore.

You could see how flushed his cheeks had become, the dim lighting adding an orangeish hue to a scene that was already full of warmth.

"Jabber, you need help?"

Letting out an even louder groan, he simple nodded yes to your, very easy question, allowing your touch even further on his body.

"You’re a sight for sore eyes. But don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you."

Whispered for his ears only to hear, your voice sounded like an angel fallen from heaven.

Corvus ⋆˚꩜｡

Silently, discreet as a mouse sneaking into the attic, he squeezed himself within your room. Sinking into the depths of secrecy and whispered revelations.

Your room was engulfed in the darkness of the night, yet he could still make out your silhouette.

Arms wrapped around a pillow, a peaceful expression plastered across the face, you were at rest.

Approaching you, he knelt at your bedside, admiring the sleepiness slowly dripping out of you.

"I’m sorry, it’s late. But I need to feel your touch."

He whispered in your ear, breathless, almost trembling.

A soft chuckle echoed over the room, your eyes slowly adjusting to better praise the immodesty behind his gaze.

"Here’s my needy boss."

Stretching your arm out to him, your fingers leisurely rubbed against his jaw, cupping his chin like the good boy that he was.

"Gosh…"

He sounded more like a pathetic man than anything remotely close to being your boss.

Sluggish, deliberate, your nail traced all over to his neck, lingering on his throat.

His breathing, heavy and irregular, fasten up the moment your finger moves lower down his chest.

Spreading your hand open on his torso, warmth slipping through the fabric of his thin, and tightly wrapped, shirt.

It was as if he melted under your caresses, his heart pounding against your palm, clutching your wrist so that your skin would never leave his.

He loved it most when, half-lying on top of him, you rested your head against his chest, listening closely to the beating of a heart that seemed to stop when you weren't there.

It wasn't your fingers tracing every curve of his body that he adored, it was feeling your whole weight pressed against him.

"I love it." He sighed.

But with a mischievous smile, you withdrew your hand and pulled the blanket back over yourself. Turning over in bed, your back facing his incredulous eyes.

In one swift gesture, he stood up and leaned over your lying figure, almost throwing the blanket across the room to finally find you.

You had to stifle a little laugh, afraid of waking up half the barracks.

"Looks like you really need me, boss."

Holding his jaw in the palm of your hand, your thumb made its way to his lips, brushing them like a feather.

An act that was anything but innocent and devoid of malice, which increased his sensitivity tenfold, much to your delight.

"Let me fix that."

[lxnarphase]

✦ bust it 'til it's leaking .ᐟ

✦ cw... fem!tattoo artist!reader x enjin, modern au, pain kink/masochist!enjin, hand jobs, possessiveness, cum swallowing, praise, teasing, enjin is a bit of a pathetic whiny bitch in this, and he cums kinda early. yet again not beta read bc im a loser so pardon the grammar and misspellings love u !!

✦ note... ok ok listen im a whore for his tattoos and after some deep thinking i believe he would. lowkey think it's a form of marking that is very very intimate if it was by his tattoo artist he has a bit of a crush on...so i got a lil carried away. anyways dont jerk off ur clients when ur in the middle of giving them a tattoo and dont get jerked off by your artist in the middle of your tattoo. or do. idk fuck it we ball

"s-shit, baby, wait—"

"shh, okay, okay, you're good, jin, you're doing so good. you need a break? some water?"

if anyone else were in your studio, they'd be thinking you and your client were doing something other than a tattoo session. but no, you were doing your job just fine, it's enjin who was struggling.

the way you've been talking to him, touching him, handling him, it's been doing something to him he wasn't expecting. the praise and soft shushes you give him when a certain area was really sensitive and hurt just a bit made the sessions harder, and, well...him harder too.

but now, for some damn reason, after his bigger piece healed enough, he was back in your chair, this time getting his abdomen piece done. and he was in absolute hell.

but you? oh, you were in artist heaven. a few days ago when he came in for you to see his healing progress and to discuss the next tattoo, he pulled his shirt off to show how nicely it healed and that the red stayed vibrant, and you were absolutely over the moon.

you couldn't help yourself, running your hands all over his back, his arms, his chest as you marveled at how great it looked on his skin. truly in awe, you mumbled that he really was your favorite client and couldn't believe he had you, of all people, do this piece for him.

"i'm jealous of whoever gets to get this to themselves at night...too bad though, because no matter what, i got to mark you up permanently, right?"

that single comment haunted him up until this very day... because, shit, yeah, you did mark him up, didn't you? he didn't ever plan to get tatted by anyone else except you; your work is absolutely beautiful, and he gets to be in your company for hours. damn, that did something to him, because now every time he looks at his tattoos, he thinks of you.

he's ashamed at how many times he spilled himself into his hand that night with a muffled moan of your name.

"you with me, blondie? want me to keep going?"

it took him a moment to realize he got lost in his thoughts for a bit, his breathing finally under control. he nodded rapidly, tongue swiping over his bottom lip as he runs a hand through his hair.

"y...yeah," he's out of breath, he doesn't even know why, "just...was a lot for a second. you're all good now, 'm usually not this sensitive."

"mm, you sure?"

your hand ran over his side, a gesture meant to soothe him, but it just makes him suck in a breath, his head tipping back on the chair. you're mesmerized, a soft smile on your face as you watched his abs move and ripple under your touch, biting your tongue as you watch the conflict flicker across his face.

he's so cute.

your eyes dip down and you see it, the heavy outline of his dick filled out against his leg in his sweats. as if sensing you looking at it, it gives a cute little jump under the fabric as if saying "look at me, hi, hey, look at me!"

he's so, so cute.

you gave a little shrug, drifting back down to where you paused tattooing. "if you say so, big guy. let's get back to it, and don't forget..." the way your eyes seemed to practically glow as you leaned in close, adjusting your grip on the tattoo gun feels dangerous, looking up at him through your lashes. "you can tap out for a break, 'm not mean, jin. i don't wanna break you yet."

it's embarrassing how he whined when the tip of your tattoo gun touches his skin again, barely covered by the hum of the machine. each movement of your hand was purposeful, the lines clean, steady, perfect.

as you traced over the outline of the stencil transfer, your thumb on your free hand traced slow, unconscious circles on his side. the tiny gesture meant to be soothing was dangerous, intimate, and infuriatingly arousing.

enjin was so fucking relieved you were currently focused on what you were doing, and not on his face. he didn't need you to see his eyes flutter shut, the faint pink tinge on his cheeks and ears, the way his teeth dug into his bottom lip. if you could, you'd be teasing the hell out of him, looking so disheveled over a simple tattoo.

but none of that fucking mattered when his dick was right in your face trying to say hello.

"easy, big guy," you purred, god, you sound so good when you talk to him in that low, calm voice when you really get into the zone and, shit, are you talking to him or his dick right now, he's so screwed, backing off a moment to wipe off the bit of ink and blood on his skin. "you keep that grip up on my chair, and you'll rip the armrest off."

embarrassed, he lightened up his grip, not realizing he was digging his nails into it. "sorry, doll, getting lost in thought," he muttered, sighing deeply to try and get his shit together. no, seriously. he needed to get his shit together, you were only on the outline and he was already dying.

"mhm? some thoughts those must be."

it's back to silence, a few deep breaths and he felt…better, calmer. the music in the background helped distract him more, fingers tapping against the armrest of you continued to work in smooth movements, getting back into the zone once you felt him relax back into the chair.

you adjusted your hands once you got to the smaller circles, bracing the free one right on his hip to stabilize yourself better. your hand is so soft, so warm—no, so hot, burning against his skin, unless it was just him? fuck, he couldn't tell, all he knows is you were burning him in the best way possible with your hands.

as you worked, you could feel how his body twitched under his touch, giving a teasing little squeeze as you worked the needle around the curves of the design. you were so focused on the ink and how the black pigment settled into his skin, eyes sharp with intense concentration. but your mind was absolutely swimming with messy, perverted thoughts…none that you were ashamed of either.

you knew what kind of client enjin was. you knew how he usually took ink, and this?

this was different.

this wasn't your usual, talkative, loudly laughing, fake-crying client who couldn't get enough of freaking you out when he fake gasped to make you think you messed up.

no, he was quiet.

so, so quiet.

and the clear visual of his dick print in his sweatpants gave away why he was quiet, sure, but seeing the actual behavioral change, the fact that you could practically smell his arousal mixing with that intoxicating combination of his cologne and the cigarette he had before he sat in your chair was making your head swim.

so who can blame you when you get a chance like this to tease the guy who usually does the teasing and poking? of course you're gonna take full advantage of it.

and he noticed.

you were taking your sweet time, humming to the song playing on the speakers as you continued moving the needle with that practiced precision and overwhelming confidence, eyes taking note of every little reaction he gave with each pass of the machine.

when you began outlining one of the bottom two circles of the design that was more on his pelvis than stomach, you couldn't stop yourself from cooing at the small, choked moan that escaped him, your eyes immediately darting to his face as you lifted the tattoo gun from his skin.

"mm? yeah? right there? sensitive, isn't it?"

that tone in your voice, that teasing, cooing tone…

the shift in the air is palpable, the semi-professional, playful atmosphere has completely evaporated, now replaced by something heavy, thick, and hot.

your eyes flicker to the spot you just touched with your tattoo gun, humming with a tilt of your head before shutting it off and setting it to the side.

"enjin, as your favorite artist, you're getting a mandated break."

picking up the gauze again, you wiped the area you just worked on, touch lingering longer than it needed to be, and much firmer against the sensitive skin, causing him to groan, his hips lifting off the chair just a little bit.

"you're cruel, boo," he hissed, looking at you with hungry, lidded eyes. "so, so fucking cruel."

when you giggle, he has to bite back another noise, the sound shooting right to his dick. this must be some kind of test, some test of willpower. did one of his friends put you up to this? some bet of 'hey, let's see how long it takes for enjin to finally pop a stiffy when getting tattooed by his super hot artist friend'?

"i'm the cruel one? really? when you're the one that's hard as fuck right in front of my face?" your gloved hand grips him through his sweatpants, and he swears he's died and gone to heaven, a stuttered 'oh my god' rushing out of him. you're actually touching him, yeah, through clothes, but fuck, you're touching him.

his attention is dragged back to you when you click your tongue, tilting your head in that infuriatingly cute manner. "how am I supposed to focus, huh? literally your dick is throbbing in my face while i'm touching you, jin."

with a laugh, you start slipping off your gloves, eyes trailing all over his body, all over the black and red ink swirling across his skin, your work, your mark, before falling back to between his legs.

"you gonna be good for me, right, enjin?" you don't look at him, gloves in the trash before you pushed away your rolling cart with your tools on it, giving yourself space to move closer.

he didn't expect you to start tugging his sweats and boxers down, commanding him to lift his hips a bit with a little 'c'mon, hon, up,' before pulling them down enough for his cock to pop right out, tip already sticky and wet from pre-cum.

"oh, jin…" that soft, cooing tone only makes the whole thing worse, a thick spurt shooting out of his tip and all he could do was groan in embarrassment. "s-stop talking to me like tha—aaah, fuck meee…"

you couldn't help yourself, hand wrapping around his impressive length and giving a little squeeze around the base. nice and thick, heavy in your hand too, with the prettiest happy trail that ended where his waistband was. sweet thing, shaved a bit of the top off for you to have easier access to smooth skin for his ink.

using your other hand, you trailed little circles into his tip, absolutely in awe at how hard he was, the head was flushed an angry red and he just wouldn't stop spilling pre all down his shaft.

"jin, you should've said something," you murmured, pout on your lips as you wrap around hands around his cock and start pumping slowly, using the precum to ease the glide. "didn't know you were this hard, we could've taken a break, it looks like it hurts…"

each stroke you give him is slick, you palm dragging over his length sinfully. he chokes on your name, bucking up into your hand when your thumb brushes over his tip to spread more of his precum.

"f-fuck, baby, you're k-killing me—" "shh, jin, keep your hips down for me, baby, jus' like that, i got you."

just hearing you say that nearly makes him black out, one of his arms thrown over his eyes while the other grips the arm rest for dear life, uncaring of how the fabric squeaks under his digits.

you talk so sweet, but you're mean, so fucking mean to him with how you grip him tight in your hands before pausing to drag your thumb right over the underside of his cock head.

he tries to keep his hips still, he really does, but that's just cruel. a noise that sounds like a mix of a choked groan and a whimper pours out of him as his hips spasm upward, desperately chasing the pleasure your insanely hot and insanely soft hands are giving him.

but he's immediately jolted back into reality when one of your hands drags down the sensitive skin on his side, nails scratching him and leaving behind pretty, red lines that you know he's going to be staring at in the mirror for hours later.

"down, 'jin, don't make me say it again, be good for me, before i make you sit like this while i finish your fucking tattoo," you hiss, and he knows you're serious, he knows you'll do it.

"y-yeah, yes ma'am, sorry, i got it, fuck, 'm sorry," he moans, voice guttural and strained as he moves his arm to watch how you touch him, eyes fluttering from the sheer pleasure you're giving him.

the wet schlick, schlick, schlick of your hands only serves to make the burning heat between your thighs grow stronger, because he's this wet just from his own precum. it's so nasty, so pathetic of your usually cocky client, but it only makes you wetter to realize he's like this because of you.

"all worked up like this from me putting my mark on you…you're so cute, enjin," you sigh dreamily, hand around his dick speeding up.

you want to see him fall apart, want to see him break for you, knowing that he trusts you enough to do his tattoos, to create permanent art on his body, to use him as your own personal canvas…and knowing he trusts you enough to touch him like this.

it's something you could get high off.

he's twitching in your hand, and you bite your lip every time you see him hold back, doing his best to keep his hips still just like you asked, like he's trying to be good for you.

"s-shit, i can't, fuck, 'm gonna cum too fucking fast," he whimpers, head falling back onto the chair, "you're hands are t'soft, doll, christ, please, gonna make me cum—!"

he's so gone for you, it's absolutely adorable.

with a soothing shush, you only speed up your hand, the one on his side sliding down to swirl circles into his tip with your thumb, loving the way he nearly screams your name from the onslaught of pleasure.

"mhmm? you're so pretty like this, jin…c'mon, make a mess for me, lemme see how much you like when i mark you up with my art. cum for me, enjin."

but right as he's about to cum, make a mess of your hand and himself, your brain realizes something once your eyes latch onto the sight of his abs flexing as he starts babbling your name…you can't let him cum like this, or else he's gonna get cum all over his fucking raw, unfinished tattoo.

you move so fast he barely can process anything except the wet, hotness around the tip of his dick, before blinking to realize you've popped the tip inside your mouth.

"o-oh, shit—"

his hands are in your hair, pushing you down half way on his cock, moaning pathetically into the air when he feels you choke, throat spasming around the unexpected intrusion as he finally, finally spills himself inside your warm mouth. he pumps out hot, thick ropes as those choked groans continue with each pulse

"thank you, thank you, thank you, oh my god, you're s'fucking good to me, babyyy—"

after the last throb of his cock, he falls limp, a heavy breath leaving the poor guy as he tries to regain his senses. you actually might've made him get a glimpse of what heaven was like, and he doesn't know how he's supposed to continue living on this mortal plane .

he's absolutely fucked.

when you pull off him after a little struggle to swallow the cum that flooded your mouth, you immediately cough, taking a second to recover. you knew he'd probably push you down a bit, but fuck, he's thicker than you realized.

"g-god, jin, you almost killed me with that thing, be careful," you joke, wiping at your mouth as you look up at him, expecting him to still be a little fucked out and regaining this thoughts.

but he's sitting up, eyes wide as he stares at you. "i'm okay, don't worry, just wasn't expecting—"

"you swallowed it."

"…huh?"

his hand grips your wrist tightly, pulling you closer until you both are practically sharing the same air.

"open your mouth."

you don't even get a chance to pull open it before he's doing it for you by shoving his fingers in your mouth, other hand tugging on your tongue as he literally inspects your mouth, uncaring of how your drool is coating his fingers, starting to drip down his wrist. he snaps out of it when you whine, eyes a bit glassy as you look at him with pinched brows.

now you're the one who's flustered and fuzzy brained.

"holy fuck…you swallowed my cum, all of it, just like that? shit, baby girl, c'mere."

he's pulling you into a deep kiss, not hesitating to take advantage of your stunned state to slip his tongue inside, wet little smacks from each time he pulls away just to dive right back in.

the taste of you is sinful, the faint sweetness of your bubblegum you threw out still lingering, and he can taste the saltiness of his cum still lingering in your mouth.

pulling away just enough to breathe, he's staring deep into your eyes, that pathetic, neediness gone and replaced by a deep, burning hunger, mouth curling into a sadistic little snarl.

"either you wrap up this tattoo for me, or we're gonna see how fast i can get an infected tattoo by fucking you on this damn chair."

you swallow thickly with a nod, reaching for your materials so he doesn't fuck up your hard work…well, what little of it there is since you didn't even get halfway through…but you can feel his stare burning into you, silently waiting for the second you finish to get his hands on you.

he's gonna eat you alive.

[fourorchid]

One More Night (Ch. 2)

— Pairing: Enjin x Cleaner fem!Reader — * NSFW 18+ MINORS DNI * Chapter Index: Ch. 1, Ch. 2 (here) Description: You transferred to East Ward only to find that Enjin is rather aloof. Despite the fact that you got along well with the Akuta team, frustration was seeping through the cracks. You were sloppy on the latest mission, Enjin noticed, so he decides to take matters into his own hands. 4.8k — Ch. 2 Content: implied sexual history, sexually frustrated reader, sexual tension, thigh riding/dry humping, enjin talks reader through it, clit stimulation, praise, masturbation, avoidant enjin x avoidant reader Note: chapter two is here! more chapters are currently in the works—i appreciate any and all feedback, enjoy!

⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘

The East Ward gave you their own version of a warm welcome when you arrived later that Friday afternoon. It was a slower period of the day which meant your intake would be less hectic. A broad man in a support uniform who went by the name Gris had greeted you at the entrance.

“Looking forward to having some extra hands here,” he spoke warmly before turning to the support next to him, “this is Follo, another Akuta support.”

“Nice to meet you.” You hiked your tote bag up on your shoulder.

“Here, we can help you with that.“ Follo reached out, both of them taking a bag in hand before Gris looked back at you with a smile. 

“Let’s give you the tour.”

They showed you around with a relaxed demeanor and not much preamble. Dining hall, med bay, training rooms, conference rooms, common spaces—you knew the ropes. Thankfully, the layout was a rough replica of your home HQ, providing one less logistic you had to worry about.

Not that you were entirely free of concerns, one of which being your introduction to a whole new team. Your own team in the North Ward was made of adults your age or older, while Akuta ranged from teens to early twenty-somethings—not that there was much difference between the two on the field. If you were getting into semantics, you’d say adults thought they didn’t need managing while teenagers might know they did but refused it anyway. They were two sides of the same stubborn coin. It didn’t bother you, though—if being stubborn meant you’d keep waking up the next day, so be it.

Still, stepping into another team’s dynamic and asserting yourself as their superior felt presumptuous at best.

And then there was him. Sure, you and Enjin got along more than amicably when buzzed and looking for a good time—would that translate? It might be kind of weird, at least to start. Or it might be totally fine, you reminded yourself. First day nerves had a way of clinging to thoughts you’d usually not give much merit. 

So maybe you were a little nervous. You’d dealt with worse.

The living quarters were the last stop of your tour. Your guides led you to the end of a long hallway, setting your bags down as Gris unlocked the door to one of the rooms before dropping the key in your hand. 

“All yours,” he patted you on the shoulder, “don’t be afraid to holler if you need anything.”

You nodded with a sincere thanks as they waved you off before carrying your bags inside.

The room was clean and slightly smaller than your one in North Ward; white paint, gray floor, one window—standard. Thankfully, after unpacking some things it looked less sterile and a bit more like home. 

You could hear someone in the next room over shuffling through their door as you folded some clothes into the dresser. The walls were thin, you realized, making a mental note to not be too brutish when it came evening. Being a light sleeper yourself, you hoped they did the same.

During your tour, you had been debriefed on the usual welcome party held for new recruits, which apparently also included temporary stays like yourself. It appeared the East cleaners loved any excuse to have a good time. You weren’t one for big to-dos but you could appreciate the sentiment.

By the time you had gotten everything in its place, you realized you should start heading to the celebration. Your stomach growled in affirmation, smelling food in the hallway as you approached the dining hall. 

Admittedly, the hall wasn’t what you expected as you entered. The walls were covered in colorful graffiti and lit by strings of lights—it looked more like a kickback than a place you’d go for dinner. Groups of people ranging all ages filled out the tables around.

As you took in the scenery, you noticed the man who showed you around earlier waving to you. You made your way, weaving through small groups of other supports and cleaners standing nearby.

“Hey, glad you could make it!” Gris gestured for you to follow him. “I want to introduce you to some folks.” 

He took you around the room, putting names to some of the different faces you would soon be leading.

First, towards the outer edge of the room, was a girl named Riyo. She had blazing red hair and an easygoing spunk to her—something you suspected became the opposite if you were to get on her bad side. Leaning against the wall next to her was an older teen, Zanka, who carried himself rather seriously. You got the impression he wasn’t one for frivolities. 

Eventually, you both circled back around to the entrance where a meek girl named Eishia stood with her not-so-meek brother, August. They seemed nice. 

Then there was Rudo, a quiet boy that was smaller than the rest. He sat by himself, brooding and a bit shy. Gris gave him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before the boy stammered out an awkward “nice to meet you” which you returned warmly. You didn’t take it personally.

Following your rounds, Gris brought you to the counter so you could order something to eat. Unpacking on a near empty stomach had really worked up your appetite.

“We have a table opposite the counter to the right, feel free to join us.” Gris extended the invitation as he began making his way there.

“Thanks, I will.” 

Now that you had gotten a quick read on the team, things felt less daunting. You could work with this.

No sign of Enjin, though. Maybe that was a good thing.

After a short wait, one of the kitchen staff shoved a hearty plate of food into your hands. Once utensils and something to drink were found, you moved to the team’s table, sitting down in one of the empty seats.

It was a lively bunch, which meant they were never for lack of conversation. You usually preferred to observe a group’s dynamic before jumping in yourself, but they made sure to include you anyway. They asked about the North Ward and your home team. You answered between bites before asking some questions of your own.

Everything was going surprisingly well. You weren’t sure why you had been nervous in the first place.

“Hey, Enjin! Over here!” Riyo stood, waving from her side of the table emphatically.

Right. 

You turned over your shoulder, looking to him as he approached. He kept his gaze straight ahead, sporting an easy smile directed at the table. You felt him come to stand behind you, bracing his arm casually against the back of your chair as he spoke without so much as a glance in your direction.

“Gonna grab some food before they run out, any requests?” 

Besides Follo who asked for some extra napkins, the rest of the team shook their heads. You averted your focus back in front of you. You weren’t sure if you were keeping things professional or just being a wimp. Perhaps both.

His hand finally lifted from behind you as he began his stroll to the counter. 

“That’s Enjin, our team leader.” Gris leaned towards you to clarify. You nodded, smiling like your stomach hadn’t just knotted. You were familiar.

Enjin returned with a plate stacked high, tossing the extra napkins in the center of the table before plopping down in an open seat by Riyo and Zanka. They were quick to talk to him, curious where he had been. He dismissed their concern with a wave of his hand and no further details from what you could hear. You supposed it was good to know that enigmatic thing he led with wasn’t personal.

You struck up conversation with a few other team members, asking about their vital instruments. It was crucial to familiarize yourself with what they each brought to the table before heading out on the field together—synergy and all that. You listened intently, nodding along as they explained the ins and outs of their chosen instruments. 

“What about yours, Miss?” Eishia looked at you, likely curious as to what type of injuries you might sustain that she’d have to heal. Just the thought appeared to make her nervous.

Your vital instrument wasn’t all that complicated or showy and you preferred it that way. You reached to your hair where it was thrown in a casual updo, pulling out a long silver hairpin that held it together, causing your hair to sweep down your back and across your shoulders. Enjin’s eyes seemed to still on you for a moment—the first he’d looked at you all night—before returning to his conversation.

You held the hairpin out in your hand as you explained what it was capable of, mostly movement and defensive fighting. When activated with anima, it morphed to be a few feet taller than you, like a vaulting pole of sorts. It helped you maneuever through fights with ease and get off blows before trash beasts knew what hit them. Elegant and practical, just how you liked it.

“So you’re not a front-liner, then?” Zanka asked astutely.

“Not typically, I work better circling the field. Allows me to keep an eye on things.” You tucked your instrument away as you answered.

“Hm.” Riyo’s chin was perched atop her hands on the table, smiling like she knew something you didn’t. “Just like Enjin.” 

You stole a quick glance at him, seemingly not listening as he talked to Gris—well, you thought you were quick, but he was quicker. His gaze flicked to yours before you could look away, holding long enough for you to assume it was intentional before returning to his conversation. 

So much for not stepping on toes.

“Should be fine.” Riyo waved her hand dismissively, not having noticed the exchange, “Just gotta make sure you move in the same direction so you don’t run into each other.”

You laughed at that, grateful for the levity. “Problem solved, then.”

You talked with the team for a bit longer until exhaustion crept in. Judging by the way a few of them rubbed at their eyes and yawned, the table was feeling something similar. You thanked everyone for their warm welcome before Enjin and Gris began ushering the rest of the members out of to the dining hall. 

You stood with a stretch, feeling the muscles in your back protest from sitting too long. You carried your empty tray to the counter before making your way to the entrance along with the others. 

Most had split off to go to their respective hallways by the time you got to your own—everyone besides Enjin. He walked a few paces behind as you headed towards the end of the hall. 

Despite the day’s success, he was all you could seem to focus on currently. The man who barely acknowledged you all evening, who made you feel like a fool for thinking he’d treat you like you’d treat him. It was one thing to be discreet, it was another to make you feel like a complete stranger. 

Right?

You attempted to shake him from your thoughts as you approached your door—until he stopped right behind where you stood. He was following you. He had tailed you all the way to your room. Even though you weren’t necessarily surprised, he really had some nerve. Without warning, you whipped around to face him.

“So you don’t say a word to me all evening, but now you’re following me to my room?”

Enjin appeared taken aback. Maybe he wasn’t expecting you to confront him. You hadn’t really expected it either, to be honest. Instead of responding right away, he simply held your stare as something smug started to pull at the corners of his mouth. 

“While I’m flattered you think so highly of me,” you watched as his hand tucked into his coat pocket, taking out a key, “not everything is about you, ya know.” He said it with no bite, eyes trained on where he slid the key into the lock of the door next to yours with a practiced turn before looking back to you. “Welcome to the team, neighbor.”

You wanted to say something—but he left you in the hallway before anything came out, closing his door behind him while embarrassment rushed over your skin in a hot wave. You were never one to be so temperamental, quite the opposite actually. Those sleepless nights leading up to the transfer must’ve really done a number on your equanimity.

You opened your own door, promptly making your way inside as if the privacy could save you from the regret. Not that the walls provided much beyond the illusion of such as you heard Enjin walking across his room, opening his drawers on the other side . . . then unbuckling his belt—god, you needed to get a grip!

It was fine. He didn’t seem all that offended—although his apparent amusement wasn’t much better. And he probably did deserve a little bit of your frustration, even if it was misled.

Antsy for something to distract yourself, you stepped to your own dresser to change into something more comfortable for bed. The effort was futile though because each movement only made you feel more exposed. You were sure he could hear it all: you pacing across your room, undressing from the day, sitting on your bed. You listened as his mattress creaked on the other side of the wall.

Maybe the circumstance would prove helpful—having the person you wanted to hookup with right next door was hardly a bad thing. Logistically, the ordeal became a lot simpler. 

The feeling in your gut was not so easily convinced as you slipped under the covers. Maybe it was best to will yourself to sleep instead of trying to be optimistic any longer.

With a press of the switch on your bedside lamp, you plunged the room into darkness.

*Click* 

Faintly, you heard the same noise mirror you on other side of the wall. 

⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘

Three weeks had come and went faster than expected. You finally had a handle on the ins and outs of the Akuta team. You’d managed to help Rudo open a bit. You’d gained the other members’ trust. You’d been carrying out your duties as instructed.

And you hadn’t spoken to Enjin since the first night you arrived. Well, not directly anyway.

He was around, yet never really at the center of things—which should’ve made it easier for you to focus, but instead your energy was spent scanning your periphery. Admittedly, you had hoped to be in his bedroom within the first week, maybe the second if you were being cordial. 

It was possible you had misread him. Maybe it was just an act. After all, you weren’t entirely the same person he met once a year either. Still, it felt real enough that you couldn’t seem to recreate the result by yourself even when you tried.

To rub salt into the wound, you were slipping up more than usual on missions this past week. They were stupid mistakes, ones you’d typically never make; like letting your guard down too soon, or getting your positioning mixed up. Your swings also weren’t angled quite right and your timing was stilted. Nothing egregious, but they were amateur missteps for a veteran like yourself.

Today’s mission had left your ego bruised more than your skin. You were frustrated. Not only had you gotten your hopes up for some kind of makeup hookup, but now you also apparently sucked at your job. So you had gotten sloppy, just not in the way you wanted.

It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed as Enjin called you over after returning to HQ.

“So,” he examined you carefully, “something on your mind? Or can you just not keep up?”

You let out an incredulous sigh. “I’m sorry, I—“

He shook his head, not caring for an apology. 

“Tell ya what,” he leaned against his instrument, Umbreaker, as he continued, “meet me at the training rooms in ten. Gonna have you spar with me to assess your weak points—then you can start fixing ‘em.”

You didn’t protest, just nodded back at him and accepted your fate.

It was mortifying. You prided yourself on your competence. You were meticulous, disciplined, adaptable. Yet somehow, this place had you off kilter. Technically, the job was getting done, just not to your personal standard—clearly not to your co-leader’s standard either. 

You made a round to your room to drop off some stuff before heading to the training bay. You claimed the first empty room available, making your way to sit on one of the side benches until Enjin arrived shortly after.

“Okay.” He closed the door, making his way to the room’s center before turning to you. “I’m gonna assume you’ve sparred back in North Ward during your recruit training, yeah?”

“Yes. Been a while though.” You got up, walking to stand opposite him with your hands on your hips.

“Doesn’t matter, the goal is the same.” He gestured towards himself. “Disarm your opponent.“ 

You pulled your instrument from your sleeve where it had been tucked during the morning’s mission, infusing it with anima so it transformed to its real height. Enjin did the same, his umbrella now stood as tall as him with each spindle bladed. 

He gave you a look to make sure you were ready. You affirmed with a tilt of your heard.

He watched as you eyed him in wait, unsure if you should make the first move or if you should let him. Both had their strategic advantage. He smiled at your pause.

“You’ve got good instincts,” he said bluntly, “follow ‘em.”

You vaulted to his right—his non-dominant side—before attempting a swing at his ankles. It wasn’t terrible, but Enjin intercepted the blow with his instrument before you got there.

The maneuver wasn’t a total loss, though, because your position allowed you to reach around the front of his torso, pulling him into a closeline with your pin. It wasn’t what he had expected, but Enjin adapted quickly, ducking from your choke before skirting around you with the help of Umbreaker.

This time he initiated, coming at you from different off-angles. You managed to evade his hits yet still couldn’t pull off any of your own. Each attempt was just a little too slow, too disjointed. You took a breath to steel yourself.

Enjin was monitoring your strides closely. You made another swing followed by another miss. He noticed you seemed to falter more when he made the first move. 

He charged into your space, this time successfully pinning one arm behind you with the curved handle of his instrument. Your heart raced as you wrenched from his grasp with all the grace of a caged animal. Heat began to simmer in your chest.

“Stay calm,” he called out, “that frustration is making you sloppy.” 

He was right. All it did was make you want to roll your eyes, though, because you usually were calm!

Following a few more failed attempts involving variations of Enjin keeping you against him, blocking hit after hit with Umbreaker, he got an inkling it wasn’t just anger that was making you unsteady.

He tested his hypothesis again—and sure enough, the moment his eyes locked on yours, you faltered. When he got in your personal space, you lost your grip. If you touched beyond a brush of contact, your focus scattered. 

Just as he connected the dots, you managed to catch him off guard. With a swing of your pin to his abdomen, you knocked him flat on his back. Succinctly straddling his legs as you leaned forward, chest to chest, you moved to hold his arms firmly below you on the training mat. Your vital instrument now cast beside you.

Good, he thought. But what would happen if . . .

“Nice job.” 

He conceded, catching his breath before delivering the deciding blow. 

“You taking charge,” he mused lowly, “kinda hot.”

Your head spun. 

In one fluid motion, Enjin’s hands  suddenly slid from your grasp. Flipping the script, he bound his fingers around your wrists before sitting up with a look that said he suspected as much.

“Oh fuck off, Enjin.” You groaned, irritation igniting in your chest and burning low in your stomach.

You just couldn’t focus with him this close! You were too aware of his proximity. How each muscle flexed beneath you, skin on skin. How carefully he took you in, like you were something worth solving. If he was so set on avoiding you, why even bother!

He searched your eyes. Noting the way your chest heaved slightly, how your cheeks flushed deeper under his observation. You hadn’t even fought his hold—your body surrendered before you got the chance.

It didn’t look like you needed correcting, he determined.

Maybe . . .

“Alright, new approach.” 

He released your wrists, hands moving instead to splay across your hips. He looked below to where your legs wrapped around his thigh before flicking his focus back up to you. 

“Ride it.”

What you really needed, he wagered, was some relief.

You blinked at him, dazed just by the suggestion. Your mouth opened, but he shook his head at you before anything could come out. He simply gestured down to where you were connected with his chin, holding your stare. 

“Try for me.”

‘For me.’

Your composure slipped into something headier—would you? Right here?

A heavy pulse you barely recognized to be your own thumped helplessly in your ears as your hands came up, bracing against his chest. 

Slowly, you started to rock your hips. 

Once you took initiative, Enjin helped, gently guiding the motion with his hands until you found a rhythm. A hitched breath escaped as you felt the seam of your uniform grind against somewhere sensitive.

“There ya go.” He coaxed, eyes trained on your expression where your eyebrows knitted together. “Work it alllll out.”

You panted, chasing the insatiable feeling that had been building for days, weeks even. You normally possessed more self-control than this, but right now, you didn’t care. The impulse clouded your every thought, disparaging your usual propriety as if it were only an excuse. Until all you were left with was a pitiful and wanton form of surrender.

His knee lifted slightly, just enough to press right where you needed him. You gasped softly at the new angle.

“Fuck, Enjin.”

“Mm. Keep going.” It was a casual order, one that made you feel anything but.

You rutted yourself against his thigh, chasing the friction. The pleasure was quickly overcoming you as your breathing became heavy and muscles started to shake. Feeling you tremble, Enjin tightened his grip before bringing you down firmer and faster to help you along.

A familiar sensation began building in your stomach. But desire was a greedy thing—and you needed more.

“Please.” You breathed it out like an order, a plea masquerading as control.

Enjin didn’t hesitate. His thumb moved to press against your clit over the fabric of your pants, knowing he found it when you let out a small whimper in response. He held the seam against it, brushing up and down in a way that made your hips catch and jerk in their rhythm. His other hand slid around to your back, dipping just beneath your waistband to push at the base of your spine, curving your hips up into his ministrations. 

Sometimes you wondered if he could read your mind. Well, it was more than that, like he knew what you wanted before you even knew yourself. It was equal parts unnerving and quite possibly the hottest thing you’d ever seen.

“What if,” an involuntary whine interrupted you before continuing, “someone comes in?”

He shook his head. “Door’s locked. Just let go, I got ya.” 

He spoke so matter-a-factly, as if you weren’t a whimpering mess clinging to his leg and fucking yourself like it was more than just catharsis that you needed.

“Ah, think I’m—” Your body teetered on the edge. Still, you just needed something.

“Mhm.” He hummed calmly. “Give it to me, pretty girl.”

A spark shot through your spine, hitting every last nerve-ending. And at that, the coil in your stomach finally snapped. 

Your climax shuddered through you violently, nearly knocking the air from your lungs as you lolled forward. Your nails dug into Enjin’s shoulders where you held on in attempts to keep yourself upright. His hands, always so helpful, came back to your sides to assist as you rode it out. Your core fluttered rapidly while your hips jerked of their own accord, creating a friction that was near overstimulating.

You swallowed the noises that bubbled up your throat as the pleasure rippled over you in waves. Gradually, the intensity started to fizzle out. Your muscles had become lax, leaving you heady and spent. 

Enjin’s hands slowed to a stop with your hips. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed slow circles over your skin, allowing you to come back down to earth before he spoke.

“Feel better?”

You leaned back from slope of his shoulder languorously, face flushed and breath shallow.

“ . . . Yeah. Think so.”

Upon your confirmation, he gave your thigh a gentle pat before helping you to your feet. You stood, bracing your hands against his forearms with a small wobble as you centered yourself. 

Reality started to wash over you. You just got off on your coworker’s lap.

“Wait, what about—” you felt guilty using him like that with nothing in return, even if he had insisted.

“Appreciate it,” he was already pivoting towards the door, giving a casual wave over his shoulder in your direction, “but go get some rest, ‘kay?”

You heard the latch of the door click closed behind him, echoing in the open room as his footsteps got further away. Dazed, you reached to smooth your hair and adjust your uniform to its proper place before heading out into the hallway.

You returned to your room, carefully closing yourself inside. With a tug of your waistband, you stepped out of your uniform bottoms and removed your ruined underwear. You shed the rest of your clothes before hopping in the shower to clean up—despite how much you sometimes felt like one around him, you weren’t a complete animal. 

You soon emerged from the shower rid of the evidence. Even so, the event continued to swirl in your head, replaying against your will. Part of you was grateful he wasn’t also in his room right now. The other, the more fickle side, was a little disappointed. 

He was doing you a favor, helping you clear your head. Taking care of the team. 

Nothing more.

⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘

It must’ve been getting late judging by the hush that had settled over HQ—Enjin decided to call it. His focus had been shot for the day anyway. 

He made his way back to the dorms. He heard nothing from your side of the wall as he slid off his coat and boots, setting his instrument by the door. You were probably asleep by now.

Sleep. That’s what he should do.

Instead, he sat down on the edge of his bed, pulling a cigarette from the pack in his back pocket. Lighting it lazily, he inhaled the smoke, letting his lungs fill with a dull burn. It wasn’t enough.

He moved to lay on his back, resting his unoccupied hand on his abdomen before breathing in another slow drag. He didn’t dare close his eyes—he knew you’d be there.

In the past few years, every time he’d had sex with you, it would ruin it for him for months. No one looked at him the way you did, no one moved like you, no one felt like you. Everything about you fucking lingered. All he could do was thank whatever powers in charge that you had been kept far the fuck away from him. 

You were supposed to be a one-off thing. A guilty pleasure.

He groaned quietly in defeat as his free hand started to slide under his waistband, feeling himself grow heavy and aching under his fingers. He took another hit of the cigarette before snubbing its end into the ashtray on his nightstand. 

With one last exhale, he gave in. His hand moved slow at first, like it was almost painful to do so. He was more pent up than usual, it seemed, because each consecutive stroke became faster than the last. He thumbed over the tip to catch what leaked—undeniable proof of what you did to him.

His mind wandered back to the training room. Recalling the way you had tried so hard to keep your composure before trusting him enough to break it. How you fell apart still fully-clothed on top of him. How he had to pretend each desperate noise that fell from your lips hadn’t made him twitch below his belt.

The muscles in his abdomen started to tighten at his grip, harsh to the point of overwhelm. The sensation made his eyes squeeze close and head tip back as he stifled a low moan. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

Following a desperate pull of his wrist, he came in hard pulses onto his stomach with your face behind his eyelids.

He felt guilty alright.

⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘ ⫘

[itssocomplicatedyeah]

Imagine: Enjin knew something was off before he even opened the door. It wasn’t the feeling of an unfamiliar presence, the kind that usually had his hand reaching for his umbrella before his mind could catch up. It was more like… a scent. Faint, almost impossible to notice, but painfully familiar.

Yours.

He paused outside the door for a second longer than usual, one eyebrow slowly rising. Then he pushed it open with his shoulder and stepped inside.

The room was dim. Papers and candy wrappers littered the desk as usual, and a few pieces of clothing had been carelessly thrown over the back of a chair. Everything looked almost exactly as he had left it. Almost, because you were sitting on his bed.

Your legs were tucked beneath you as though you belonged there, your hair slightly mussed, your expression far too calm for someone who had just been caught trespassing in another person’s room. And you were wearing his jacket.

Enjin stopped in the doorway. First, he looked at you. Then at the jacket. Then back at you. The corner of his mouth slowly curved upward.

“Well, this is a nice welcome,” he drawled, kicking the door shut behind him. “I’ve imagined plenty of things waiting for me in here, but a cute little thief wasn’t one of them.”

You pulled the jacket more tightly around yourself, though the gesture looked far more teasing than modest.

“I didn’t steal it. I borrowed it.”

“While sitting on my bed?”

“The atmosphere seemed appropriate.”

Enjin let out a quiet laugh and started toward you, slow and unhurried. Almost as if he were giving you time to change your mind. Not that you looked like you planned to.

“So,” he said, stopping in front of the bed, “what brought you here? Other than your sudden interest in my wardrobe.”

You looked up at him.

“I was cold.”

His gaze dropped to the jacket.

“Right.”

“Very cold.”

“So cold that you had to break into my room specifically?”

“Your jacket is warm.”

“Uh-huh.” He tilted his head. “And where are your clothes?”

You didn’t answer.

The silence stretched between you, deliberate and unmistakable.

Enjin’s smile sharpened. His eyes, playful only a moment ago, darkened as the meaning of your silence finally sank in.

“Wait a second,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him innocently.

“What?”

His gaze moved slowly over you, from your face to the jacket hanging loosely around your body, then lower, to your bare knees and the fingers clutching the fabric closed at your chest.

A breathless laugh escaped him.

“You’re serious.”

You gave a small shrug.

“Do you not like it?”

For a moment, Enjin simply stared. Then he dragged a hand down his face, as if physically trying to gather what remained of his self-control, and let out a low, rough laugh.

“Like it?” he repeated. “You’re sitting on my bed, wearing my jacket, and underneath it…”

His voice trailed off. When he looked at you again, the expression in his eyes sent heat racing through your body faster than any piece of clothing ever could.

“Damn,” he breathed. “You really know how to welcome a man home after a long day.”

You smiled.

“I made an effort.”

“I can tell.”

He lowered himself onto one knee in front of you, bracing his hands against the mattress on either side of your hips.

Still not touching you. Just close enough to make the space between you feel unbearably small.

“So what happens now?” he asked, his voice lower, rougher. “Do I take my jacket back?”

You leaned closer.

“You can try.”

Enjin held your gaze.

For a second, something almost boyishly pleased flickered across his face: an unguarded, genuine kind of delight that he usually hid beneath lazy smiles and a perpetually tired tone.

“Dangerous thing to say.”

“For who?”

His smile widened.

“Me, obviously.”

You laughed, but the sound caught in your throat when he finally placed a hand on your leg. His thumb brushed slowly over your knee.

Then his palm slipped beneath the hem of the jacket, gliding upward along the inside of your thigh.

His touch was almost weightless, so careful it felt as though he were afraid to break the strange, warm intimacy of the moment. A shiver ran over your skin. You tipped your head back, catching your lower lip between your teeth.

“Did you really come here just because you were cold?” he asked, softer now.

You looked back at him. Your smile lost its teasing edge.

“I missed you.”

Enjin went still. Only for a moment.

Then the playful look on his face softened into something warmer. He lifted a hand and brushed a loose strand of hair away from your cheek, letting his fingers linger there.

“You should’ve led with that.”

“And the jacket?”

“The jacket,” he murmured, leaning closer until his lips nearly touched yours, as his hand underneath jacket wandered toward the most intimate place, “is officially your problem now.”

“Mine?”

“Mm-hm.”

His mouth brushed the corner of yours.

“Because I’m not sure I want it back anymore.”

You barely had time to smile before he kissed you. Slowly at first, deeply, still holding on to that careful restraint, as if he wanted to draw the moment out for as long as possible.

It lasted right up until you grabbed him by the collar and pulled him closer, a soft moan slipping into his mouth.

Enjin exhaled against your lips.

“Now I’m home.”

[enjinsdoll]

──── INSECURITIES

enjin struggles with his confidence once he falls head over heels for your pretty self.

Enjin hated mirrors. He knew exactly what people saw when they looked at him.

The tattoos that crawled over his skin like spilled ink. The smell of smoke that clung into his clothes. The rough features and the large scar on his skull. Hands that looked better suited for fighting than to hold something beautiful.

He fit the pit and it had never been a problem until you.

You looked like something untouched by all of this. Where grime stained the walls and nearly everyone carried exhaustion beneath their eyes you somehow stayed pristine.

He didn’t even mean this in a bad way. You weren’t spoiled like the Nijikus or acted above everyone else. You were just neat.

Your clothes were always clean, layered and styled. Trimmed nails and hair that never looked tangled - even after missions. You smelled faintly like soap instead of smoke and blood and rust.

The first time Enjin saw you fixing the collar of your coat in a cracked mirror he genuinely thought you had gotten lost. Someone like you should’ve been up in the sphere - not down here beside people like him.

He cringed at himself for thinking that way. You were kind and talked to everyone the same way. Not once you had acted superior.

No, you were found joking around with the cleaners. You sat with rudo and the kids to doodle and share snacks. Enjin had once seen you sewing riyo’s jacket with a tiny sewing kit you carried around.

You belonged here more than most people. Still, Enjin’s brain couldn’t stop thinking about the difference between you and him.

Somehow his brain also added Gris to the mix. Gris with his composed appearance and smooth confidence. Gris who looked out together with his shiny blond hair. Gris who could stand beside you and just fit there.

Enjin compared himself to his friend a lot after meeting you. The ash that clung to his fingers. That he has really prominent knuckles. His tattoos that covered part of the truth and could been seen as aggressive to someone polished as you.

You didn’t smoke. Fuck, the smoking.

One night he caught sight of himself in a window reflection while lighting a cigarette and immediately put it out.

Zanka got real nervous watching this. “Are you sick?”

Enjin scoffed. “Shut up.”

But afterward he stared at the crushed cigarette under his boot and wondered if you hated the smell.

It got worse over time. Every little interaction sat under his skin for days.

He watched you smiling at Gris. Once you adjusted follo’s collar while talking to him.

It was the fucking fact that you looked so natural standing beside people who looked cleaner, calmer, prettier.

Enjin started avoiding you without even meaning to. Fuck. It wasn’t his intention, okay?

But he’d leave rooms. Stood further away during meetings or just hang outs. He pretended to be busy. Because each time you smiled at him hope blossomed in his chest.

Hope was a dangerous for someone like him.

The thing he failed to realize was that you noticed his absence.

Your expression fell a bit when he stopped sitting beside you or how he stopped joking around with you. He didn’t tease you at all anymore and you didn’t knew why.

Maybe you had upset him somehow

At first you thought maybe you’d upset him somehow until semiu spilled the beans, having mercy with the two of you.

“Dude’s losing his mind because he thinks you’d prefer Gris.”

“What?”

“You didn’t know, huh? I’m not surprised. Dude’s not known for talking about his feelings.

Suddenly everything made sense to you. And oh, your face grew warm. That was something you could work with and finally talk to him.

In the evening you got your chance when you found Enjin alone on the roof of headquarters, leaning against the railing while smoke curled into the air beside him.

You walked over quietly. “Can I sit here?”

Poor man nearly jumped as he stared at you. “Yeah. Sure.”

You sat beside him and for a moment neither of you spoke. Then you reached over, plucked the cigarette from his fingers, and took the last drag of it. Enjin stared at you in absolute horror.

“That was my last one.”

“You can survive.”

A weak laugh escaped him as he shook the head. You snipped the cig bud over the railing and it was so unlike you. He liked it.

You glanced at him carefully. “Why have you been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t.”

“You have.”

“A little.”

“Why?”

Enjin rubbed a hand over his face.

‘because you’re too pretty for me. Because standing beside you makes me feel filthy. Because I look at Gris and think yeah, obviously you’d pick someone like him.’

He couldn’t say any of that aloud. So instead he shrugged roughly. “You just seem more comfortable around cleaner guys.”

The second the words left his mouth he regretted them. You blinked confused.

“Cleaner guys?”

“Y’know.” he gestured vaguely at himself. “Less… this.”

Oh he sounded so fucking bitter. You stared at him for several long seconds before realization softened your face.

“Oh.”

Shit. Can he please rewind and push all the words back into his throat? His jaw twitched as he spoke up again.

“You don’t gotta pretend or anything. I know what I look like.”

“Enjin.”

“You and Gris make more sense.”

“Enjin.”

“He’s—”

“Enjin.”

Your hand grabbed his wrist firmly. It shut him up instantly.

“You really think I’d choose someone based on how polished they look? Do you really think so low of me?”

He didn’t answer, because yes. No. Yes. But he didn’t think low of you.

You sighed softly, thumb brushing against the tattoos on his wrist. “I like your tattoos and those hoops in your ears.”

“What?”

“And your hands,” you smiled softly. “They look warm.”

Something genuinely helpless crossed his face. Nobody had ever described him as warm before. He knew he was the connection for many of them, but being described as warm was new.

“And for the record,” you added quieter now, “You’re really handsome.”

What?

His entire body went still. Handsome? Him? You weren’t lying either. He saw you once lying. It was terrible.

Heat climbed violently up his neck. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

“No it isn’t.”

“It is.”

“You need your eyes checked.”

You laughed softly and the sound nearly killed him. Suddenly all those awful thoughts in his head felt quieter.

You shifted closer until your shoulder bumped his and you rested your head against his shoulder. Not caring that you smudged your pants on the dirty roof or that he cleaned his coat, well, many many moons ago the last time.

“I don’t care if you smoke,” you murmured. “Or if you’re rough around the edges. None of that scares me.”

“You should be scared,” Enjin whispered.

“I’m not.”

Enjin looked down at your hand still resting over his tattooed wrist and felt something painful bloom in his chest. Again the hope, but this time it didn’t feel ugly.

“Give me a chance,” you added quietly. “I’m more than clean clothes like I know you’re more than tattoos and cigarettes.”

Enjin looked at you for a long time and then he did the only right thing. He turned his hand around and interlocked your fingers together. “Okay.”

[sourlacy]

18+ ☆

the number of times you’ve received a ‘hey girly’ text from a random girl is almost comical at this point.

it’s always the same cycle. some pretty stranger sliding into your dms with a variation of “you should know that…” or “i just think you deserve better,” claiming that your boyfriend, enjin, is apparently hooking up with them, or their friend, or someone who ‘swears on her life’ it happened.

you let out a quick sigh as your fingers start typing out the same generic response– already bracing yourself for the usual screenshots of flirty texts, grainy club selfies (most of them old, taken before he was with you) and the classic “just looking out for you girly <3” at the end.

you don’t even feel the need to ask him about it anymore. half the time, he’s already sprawled out in your bed; one arm slung over your shoulders, reading the messages with you while laughing at the sheer audacity of those girls who can’t seem to comprehend that he’s in a fully monogamous relationship.

“another one?” he drawls, smirk widening as he skims through the whole message. “she picked the worst day to lie about, too. i was with you the entire time.” he chuckles lowly, shaking his head at how little effort they put into making the lie believable.

as much as you’re grateful for his constant reassurance, sometimes it’s hard not to let their words get to you. after all, just look at him– 6’3, with wild intricate tattoos peeking up his neck, and those striking gold eyes that have a way of charming just about anyone in the room. honestly, you can’t truly blame those girls for wanting a taste of him.

“don’t tell me… you’re overthinking again,” he teases, catching your pouty expression. he slides closer, cupping your chin with one large hand. “come on, doll. you know you’re the only one for me, right?”

his thumb brushes over your bottom lip, gaze softening for just a second despite the teasing edge in his voice. “you really think i’d risk losing you over some random?” he murmurs, leaning in until his forehead nearly touches yours.

“look at me, baby. i don’t care who wants me, you’re the only one one i want.”

before you can roll your eyes or pull away, he’s already pushing you down onto the mattress, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. the way his tongue teases along the seam of your lips before slipping inside, deepening the kiss until you’re left breathless has you melting under him before you can even think to protest. “let me remind you why no one else could ever measure up,” he breathes against your lips, voice dropping low.

with a steady grip, he shifts down the bed, trailing light kisses lower and lower down your body. his hands slide to your hips next, carefully easing your panties down your legs and baring you completely to his hungry gaze. only then does he settle between your thighs, lips trailing softly over your delicate skin– building your anticipation until you’re nearly trembling for him. he lingers for a second, absolutely drinking in the sight of your entrance before finally ducking his head & letting his mouth take over.

your breath hitches, fingers tangling onto his blonde strands as his tongue teases over your sensitive clit– starting off with slow, deliberate swirls that send tingles up your spine. he’s practically making out with your cunt, tongue and lips worshipping you with every hungry stroke. it’s almost embarrassing how fast he can undo you like this so easily. every flick and swirl on your wet folds has you gasping, pleasure building with every desperate moan he pulls from your lips.

“ngghhh—jin p-pleasee… don’t stop—” your moans come high and desperate, hips grinding up to chase his tongue, the pleasure winding tight in your belly.

you’re already soaked, slick coating his lips as he devours you like he’s starving– and god, he’s always been so fucking good at this, knowing exactly how to drive you insane with just his mouth alone. every stroke of his tongue on your needy pussy has your hips twitching, breath breaking in short, desperate whines.

your thighs start to tremble as the pressure builds higher and higher, your fingers tightening desperately in his hair as you chase your release.

“fuckkk—right there, p-pleaseee, i’m so closeee—” you cry out, hips jerking against his mouth.

he groans into your cunt, tongue pressing harder, and that’s all it takes. pleasure crashes over you in waves as your release gushes all over his tongue, your thighs clamped tight around his head as your whole body shudders. you cry out his name as he keeps licking, and drawing out every last drop of your orgasm, his mouth & chin coated with your slick juices.

finally, he pulls away– licking your release from his lips with a satisfied swipe of his tongue, eyes hooded and burning with pride as he gives you a wolfish smirk that says he knows exactly what he’s done to you.

“poor baby… needed a reminder that i’m not going anywhere, huh?”

[itssocomplicatedyeah]

Imagine: You were absolutely sure the communal showers were empty.

For one thing, it was late. For another, most of the Cleaners had already scattered after the mission, disappearing into their rooms, the kitchen, or wherever else they usually went to collapse after a long day. And, most importantly, you had listened before stepping inside. No footsteps. No voices. No familiar heavy stomp of boots.

So, with a perfectly clear conscience, you shut the door behind you, set your things down on the bench, and finally allowed yourself to breathe.

The hot water hit your shoulders, washing away dust, exhaustion, and the last stubborn traces of your terrible mood. You closed your eyes, tilted your head back, and almost decided that maybe the day hadn’t been so bad after all.

Almost. Because the very next second, the door to the shower room swung open.

“Damn, finally,” came a familiar voice. “I thought nobody was in here...”

Enjin froze in the doorway. You froze too.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The silence between you was so thick that even the sound of running water suddenly seemed suspiciously loud.

Enjin stood there with a towel slung over one shoulder, already out of his outer clothes, though thankfully not yet fully committed to walking into the showers like he owned the place. His amber eyes widened. Then he blinked. Once. Twice.

Then, very slowly, he lifted his gaze to the ceiling.

“I didn’t see anything.”

“Enjin.”

“Nothing at all.”

“Enjin.”

“You could even say I was born blind.”

You grabbed the nearest bottle of shampoo and hurled it at him without thinking. Enjin dodged it far too smoothly for someone who had just claimed not to have seen anything.

“Aha!” you snapped, peeking at him through the steam while covering yourself with your arms. “So you can see well enough!”

“Reflexes,” he said calmly, still staring very hard at the wall. “My life is full of danger.”

“Your life is about to end if you don’t get out.”

“Fair.”

He took one step back. And, of course, that was the exact moment his foot slipped on the wet floor.

You barely managed to squeak:

“Careful!”

Enjin flailed, reached for the doorframe, missed it completely, spun in the least graceful way imaginable, and somehow managed to catch himself at the very last second. The towel on his shoulder, however, gave up on him entirely and slid solemnly to the floor. Both of you stared at it.

Then Enjin said, with complete seriousness:

“It sacrificed itself for my dignity.”

You clapped a hand over your mouth, but the laugh slipped out anyway. At first it was quiet and muffled, then bright, helpless, and impossible to stop.

Enjin glanced at you, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Glad my humiliation improved your evening.”

“Don’t worry,” you said, still laughing. “It was a very respectable performance.”

“I’d bow, but I’m afraid you’d misunderstand.”

“Enjin!”

“Leaving. I’m leaving.”

He bent down to grab the towel, but you instantly hissed:

“Don’t look!”

“I’m looking at the floor.”

“I know you.”

“That’s because the floor is the only one not accusing me of anything.”

You snorted. Towel in hand, Enjin began backing toward the door again. This time with extreme caution. Almost majestically, if not for the fact that he was moving sideways like the world’s most suspicious crab. And it might have ended there. It really might have.

If you hadn’t said:

“You know, for someone who asks me for a light all the time, you lose your composure surprisingly fast.”

He stopped. Slowly, he turned his head, though his eyes remained very honorably fixed somewhere on the wall beside you.

“That was unfair.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re clearly in the winning position here.”

“I’m naked in a shower, armed with shampoo.”

“Exactly. Absolute advantage.”

You narrowed your eyes, though he could barely see it through the steam.

“Are you flirting with me right now?”

“Me?” Enjin pressed a hand to his chest, looking so deeply offended that anyone else might have believed him. “In the middle of such a serious crisis?”

You gave him a silent, knowing look.

“Yes. I’m flirting,” he finally admitted.

You laughed again. This time, it came out a little more bashful than you intended. He smiled too, but not with his usual smugness. This one was softer. Warmer. The kind of smile that made your chest tighten in a way his teasing never quite did. And somehow, that felt much more dangerous.

“All right,” he said at last, stepping back behind the door. “I’ll leave. I’ll stand guard and protect your sacred right to personal hygiene.”

“How noble of you.”

“I’m a very noble man, actually.”

“You barged into the showers.”

“Accidentally barged into the showers. Very important difference.”

“And nearly fell.”

“That was tactical.”

“And lost your towel.”

“It fell heroically in battle.”

You shook your head, but your smile refused to go away. Enjin had almost closed the door when he paused again.

“Hey.”

“What?”

He still wasn’t looking inside. He stood just beyond the doorway, one hand holding the door, his voice a little quieter now.

“When you’re done… I can walk you back to your room. Just in case there’s more dangerous wet floor on the way.”

The hot water suddenly wasn’t the only reason your cheeks felt warm.

“Is that an excuse?”

“Of course.”

“A terrible one.”

“I’d call it creative.”

You were quiet for a couple of seconds, then turned your face away, as if that could hide the smile in your voice.

“Fine. Wait outside.”

There was a brief silence from behind the door. Then Enjin gave a pleased little hum.

“Understood. Guarding.”

“And don’t listen in!”

“What, are you planning to sing in there?”

“Enjin!”

“Okay, okay. Silent.”

And, to his credit, he really did go silent. For about two minutes. Then his voice came through the door again.

“Hey… was that my shampoo you threw at me, or someone else’s?”

You covered your face with one hand.

“I told you to be quiet.”

“So it was mine.”

And despite the embarrassment, despite the ridiculousness of it all, you laughed again. Because no matter how hard you tried to stay mad at him, with Enjin, it almost never lasted long.

[valentinesxoxo]

𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇..

꒰ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⋮ 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱ ⸝⸝ fem reader, MANGA SPOILERS, soft angst, lots of emotions, sorta comfort, enjin being so stubborn, mentions of smoking, fear of loss, established relationship, fluff at the end, soft arguments, reassurance, happy ending ofc — wc: 255 — masterlist ୨୧

the morning everyone was preparing to leave for the doll festival, you were already dressed in your outfit made from august with your bag slung over your shoulder, standing near the entrance while the other cleaners finished gathering their things.

it was supposed to be another mission you would take alongside enjin, nothing out of the ordinary, until the headquarters doors suddenly burst open and several cleaners rushed inside carrying one of their own.

the cleaner had returned from an earlier mission covered in deep wounds after a trash beast destroyed their group, blood soaking through the bandages wrapped around their body as the infirmary immediately.

because almost every available cleaner had already been assigned to the doll festival event, headquarters was left painfully short staffed. the medical team was scrambling to keep up, supplies needed to be organized, and there weren't enough people left to help transport equipment or assist with the injured.

you stepped forward anyway, insisting someone else could stay behind instead, but corvus quietly stopped you before you could take another step.

"i know you want to go," he said in his usual calm voice while helping the injured cleaner onto a bed, "but right now, everyone here needs another pair of hands. if we send you too, there won't be enough people left to keep headquarters running."

you frowned immediately, already shaking your head before he had even finished speaking. "but enjin—"

"he will be fine," corvus interrupted gently, giving you a reassuring look. "he has the others with him. i need you here." before you could argue again, enjin walked over with that familiar relaxed smile, casually resting a hand on top of your head. "don't make that face," he laughed quietly.

"i'm not going anywhere. we'll finish the event, you'll keep things together here, and before you know it we'll all be back complaining about the paperwork." you wanted to believe him.

you really did.

so with a heavy heart, you watched everyone leave without you, telling yourself it was only one mission and that there would be plenty more after this one.

the first day passed without much news, then the second, then the third, and with every report that arrived, the atmosphere inside headquarters only became heavier.

what had started as a simple event into the doll festival had turned into something much bigger than anyone expected. more injured cleaners began or disappeared returning one after another, each looking worse than the last, speaking about strange watchman series objects, battles breaking out across the festival grounds, and enemies far stronger than they had prepared for.

every time someone walked through those doors, your heart jumped into your throat, silently praying it wouldn't be enjin lying unconscious on a stretcher.

then someone mentioned he had used time walk. another cleaner quietly admitted he had pushed himself so far that nobody knew if he was going to survive. after hearing those words, it became impossible to focus.

your hands kept moving out of habit, carrying materials, changing bandages, helping wherever you could, but your thoughts never left him. all you could do was wonder if things would've been different had you ignored corvus and gone anyway.

maybe you could've stood beside him. maybe you could've helped carry some of the burden. maybe he wouldn't have had to push himself so far.

the moment headquarters finally announced the operation was over, you didn't wait for another word.

you were already halfway down the hallway toward the recovery room before anyone even realized you were gone, your footsteps echoing through the building as your heart pounded so hard it almost hurt.

your hand hovered outside his room for only a second before you slowly pushed the door open, barely trusting your own voice.

"...enjin?" the room was quiet, sunlight spilling through the window, and there he was, sitting against the hospital bed wrapped in layers of fresh bandages, his face noticeably paler than usual with dark circles beneath his eyes, but alive.

completely, undeniably alive. relief crashed into you so suddenly your vision blurred with tears before you even realized you were crying.

for a brief moment you simply stood there, letting yourself believe he was really okay. then your eyes drifted lower, landing on the cigarette resting so casually between his fingers, smoke lazily curling toward the ceiling as though he hadn't nearly died only days earlier.

you stared at it for several long seconds, almost convinced you had imagined it, before your expression quickly shifted from relief to complete disbelief. "...are you actually serious?" your voice cracked, making enjin glance up with the same easy smile he'd always worn.

"oh, you're finally—" he never got to finish. you crossed the room in only a few steps, pulled the cigarette straight from his fingers, and crushed it into the ashtray beside the bed hard enough that ash scattered across the table.

"what is wrong with you?" you snapped, your voice shaking with anger. "you're recovering!" enjin blinked at the now ruined cigarette before rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward laugh.

"...thought one wouldn't hurt." you stared at him as though he'd completely lost his mind. "one wouldn't hurt?" you repeated, unable to believe what you were hearing.

"you almost died, enjin! everyone kept telling me how bad it was, how nobody knew if you were even going to wake up, and the first thing i see when i finally get here is you smoking like nothing happened!"

the room suddenly became quiet, and just as quickly as your anger had exploded, it disappeared beneath the weight of everything you'd been carrying inside.

your shoulders trembled, your breathing became uneven, and before you could stop yourself, tears spilled freely down your cheeks.

"...you're so stupid," you whispered, though there wasn't an ounce of hatred behind the words. you slowly reached forward, carefully grabbing the front of his hospital gown without putting any pressure on the bandages underneath.

"...i was so scared." your voice cracked so badly you almost didn't recognize it.

"i stayed because headquarters needed me... because corvus said there weren't enough people left after that cleaner came back injured... and i kept telling myself you'd come home like you always do."

another sob escaped before you could swallow it back. "then people started saying you pushed yourself too far... that you almost didn't make it..."

your forehead rested gently against his shoulder as your grip on his gown tightened just enough for him to feel it.

"...all i could think about was what if i never got to see you again." your words came out quieter now, almost breaking apart between each breath.

"i know this is our job. i know every mission is dangerous. i know one day one of us might not come back..." you squeezed your eyes shut, another tear slipping down your cheek.

"...but i don't want that day to be you. i don't want to lose you, enjin."

for once, enjin didn't smile, didn't laugh, and didn't try to brush your worries away with one of his usual jokes.

his expression softened into something gentle as he carefully reached over, ignoring the ache running through his body just to rest his hand over yours. "...i'm sorry," he murmured quietly.

you immediately shook your head before looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "don't apologize," you whispered, wiping your face with the sleeve of your shirt. "...just promise me you'll stop doing things that make me think i'm going to lose you."

enjin glanced toward the crushed cigarette sitting in the ashtray before letting out a small sigh through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting into the faintest smile.

"...guess i'm done with those." you sniffled, narrowing your watery eyes at him. "...you better be." a quiet laugh escaped him, weaker than usual but still enough to make your chest loosen for the first time in days.

"...yes, ma'am." despite everything, you couldn't help letting out a small laugh through your tears before carefully wrapping your arms around him, holding him as gently as you could as though he might fall apart if you squeezed too hard.

enjin rested his chin lightly against the top of your head, one hand slowly rubbing your back while the room settled into silence.

neither of you needed to say anything else. after days of wondering if you'd ever get to see him again, feeling his heartbeat beneath your hands was enough.

[miyaz6ki]

well if you're gonna munch, eat it well! — gachiakuta x gn! afab! reader

ʚ♡ɞฺ　　main m.list　ྀིᨯ — content. nsfw & 18+ content ahead, cunnilingus, no gendered pronouns/petnames, vital instrument play (tamsy), sir kink (corvus), reader has afab anatomy

m note: i am so out of ideas bro, i might make like separate one shots based on these lil scenes :0

m word count: like 400-500+ each

m character included: enjin, tamsy, corvus

part two with jabber, zodyl, gris, follo next maybe?

you honestly didn't think enjin was the type to eat. really you didn't, it was way past dinnertime, so what had him spreading your thighs with his calloused palms like this so late into the night?

the mission was an incredible success, enjin was having the best round of his life, and it only got even better when your kisses would be so much more than just one, because it turned to two... turned to three, then four...

so all of a sudden when he trails his love bites down your stomach all the way to your...

"s- stay still..." dipping his tongue deeper into you kept your back arched, your thighs still quivering around his head, subconsciously, you didn't know if you wanted to keep him there or to push him off, really.

well, usually when it came to your usual love-making activities, he'd say foreplay is his favorite because he'll end up forgetting to fuck you with his dick when you taste so good on his tongue instead.

even when it came to kissing up your thighs, what can i say, he's one (im)patient man!

"nnnha! 'jin... w— wait... haahn s- slow down!" muttering under your breath, it was one of the factors that made enjin the munch he is for you, your hands buried in his hair while you continued to bury his mouth deeper into your folds, his nose bumps into your sensitive clit every now and then.

your brows furrowed, his hands squeeze your thighs—a quiet way of telling you to stop squirming.

"keep those pretty eyes open f'me, sweet..." mumbling into your cunt, darker hues becloud your cheeks, it was adorable how badly you were struggling in his hands, enjin's indurated fingertips rubbed small circles onto the soft plush of each thigh; tonguefucking a person as cute as you were probably had to be one of the best feelings out there.

"mmnf enjin please, t'much..." face being buried so deep in your pussy, he loved the way you tasted in his mouth, if you'd let him, he would stay between your soft thighs. your pulse quickened when the musk continued to fall off your forehead; licking long stripes up your slit to see the way your back would arch so undeniably,

he could hear the gasp for air in shock from you, only ever briefly removing his mouth to place lust-filled kisses and bites on your inner thighs. your spine continues to shudder, it was mean how your vision was so blurred. drool dribbling down the corner of your mouth, your grasp on his hair only clenches.

a shaky exhale leaves you, his tongue only slurps and sucks at your sweet clit with urgency, the pressure building up again right below your stomach, making you groan again; aching at how close you were again, your eyes widen before you shut them, almost not wanting to feel the rush of bliss again.

"mmm... y're close, arenf't ya," it's sick how easily enjin could tonguefuck you, how easily he could get you to come on his mouth, he could only tell by your breathing fragments that you were slowly starting to reach your peak, a small tear slips past your eyelid.

your heart beats rapidly, nearly out your chest, his arms tighten around your waist and brings your hips as close as possible;

you didn't even know really where to place your palms, yet all of a sudden your body's tension suddenly snapped, "fuckin' come, sweet! come on my tongue!"

was all you heard until your juices gushed into his mouth, flashes of white spark behind your eyes when your fourth orgasm peaks—it's alarming how fast you would cave into the pleasure he could give you.

you always joked to your boyfriend tamsy that he should tie you up so he could tease your body while you resist against the blue thread... it wasn't a bad idea, you mentioned it months ago, is it a crime he wanted to keep that in mind?

not really.

the mission felt like a fresh breath of air for those who've been looking for a hard case that was actually easy.

so edging you with adorable little kitten licks while his vital instrument kept your legs apart, blue rope securely keeping your thighs nicely sprawled open for him while cold air gives more attention to you than his tongue does :(

cold ghost touches trace your legs up and down, enough to make you shiver at how carefully he'd watch your face for any of the adorable reactions you had.

despite it showing on his face, he still had the need to hide his clear interest in pleasing you by teasing you for almost way too long...

"n- nngh!" you shut your eyes almost immediately before your lashes flutter open again, with disappointment clear in your face. "tamsy! are you even gonna... ahh start? if not i could just- whhaa!"

you voice cracked uncharacteristically when he dove his tongue into your cunt, now casually making out with your sweet clit; moving a hand to slip a finger inside your warm, soppy entrance. now it was your turn in wanting to hide what you actually feel like!

"mmmn, tastes s'much nicerf th... mmhaa- than i th- thought." his voice vibrates your cunt with a certain softness to it, your fingers thread into his hair while your hips rock themselves into his mouth.

it's an addiction, an urge you could say, for tamsy to move his mouth, working his tongue in your hole. but before you could even think to form a response, his thumb is rubbing nicely up against your swollen clit.

making your breath hitch, eyebrows knit, and pull his hair.

tamsy wasn't even one to be really vocal necessarily, but you made it hard to not when you'd squirm whenever the pulses of his words were echo into your whole being, small and noticeable shivers run up and down your spine. nodding frantically under intoxication, breathy moans that fell desperate on your tongue,

a fist of his hair in your balled palm was all he needed to see how need y you were, especially when you had the great idea of pushing his face even deeper inside you. tasting parts no one else has ever touched...

another thing he favored a lot when eating you out was your skin being squished by the rope, watching your soft thighs spill around the rope that kept you spread made his own eyes roll back,

his one hand on your thigh keeps a strong grip, locking you onto his mouth and bringing you as close as he could.

well... i'd have something funny he'd say here but really, he can't speak from how good you taste.

you feared to be around your boss, corvus, whenever something hadn't exactly gone to plan. it succeeds but at the cost of his team? most importantly: you, his secretary. it hurt him to see that the person who had plead loyalty and allegiance to him and the cleaners for as long as forever...

to see you being touched by someone that wasn't him on a mission that required you both to fake being a couple at a certain event.

he couldn't take it.

so here he was, the corvus of the cleaners, rapidly lapping at your adorably aroused, wet slit. your thighs sit nicely over his shoulders while he effortlessly lifts your lower body to be able to kiss every part. big hands resting on each side of your thigh,

you were spreading your folds for him, barely one eye open when you take peeks at the man you've been calling boss most of your time with him hungrily eat you out with a fucking passion. it was hard to tell if he was kissing or slurping, but there's one thing you knew,

and it's that he ravished you.

"f- uuckk... s- sir, pleasef— slow do... haah!"

your words die out completely when you let out an audible gasp, your hands flies to his head to push him in deeper; you could both feel and hear clearly that the pace he set suddenly accelerated. wait... you don't think he has a...

he removes his mouth from your cunt briefly, a clean 'pop!' sound echoes fast as he gives you another hungry stare, "say that again."

warm breath falling against your climax-ridden pussy, your face was flushed with dark hues, matching your squirming behavior as you remain flustered and frozen.

"i... huh?" you barely had a moment to think before he slipped two cold, and unnerving digits into your entrance, "ahhngh!"

"i want you to say it again. call me sir, sweetheart."

hardly being able to gather your thoughts properly, you blink through the strong vanilla scent he had helped you get for the occasion earlier.

jolts of electricity ran up your spine when he continues to grind his long fingers against your g-spot, making your back arch onto them, your mouth agape with a scarce sound out your mouth. squeezing around his digits wasn't helping your case at all either,

"go on, ask me to keep going."

you can only give an eager nod as you tried your best to even come up with the courage to speak, "mmn... sir?" god he could feel a twitch in his pants hearing your voice call out to him like that.

"can you.. ngh- please keep eating me o- out...?"

there are so many times he had wished he could just pull you aside and ease the tension in you. so many different situations, and now when he finally gets the satisfaction... is it so bad a man wants to please what's his when they've been so good for him all these years?

his loyal secretary.

his.

"nngh- ahh cor- s'good..." tears started to build up in the edges of your eyes, same beautiful eyes you'd use to ensure the cleaners stayed as diligent and disciplined while he wasn't there... now they're awestruck at the mess you made on his mouth.

your high almost immediately comes back, heat pooling just as much as it did earlier... was it his delirious pacing with his tongue? or maybe...

it was the way one hand would stay on your thigh to keep you stable, while the other would press a hand on your lower stomach. harshly might i add.

you could feel your jaw almost drop, a small drop of drool starting to dribble out your mouth while your legs jerk involuntarily, you don't know where to place your hands until—

a snap of electricity shocks your whole body, you barely even let out a cry of pleasure from how good it felt, hearing corvus swallow up your gushing juices only made it feel even better.

it was only the overstimulation that he continued to cause using his tongue while you were still trying your best to recovery from the heaven-sent orgasm he had just launched into you without even using his cock.

[sshrubit]

𓆩❤︎𓆪 MDNI. 18+. raw. piv. breeding. calendar method. omg idk what to feel w this one. 𐙚 main masterlist.

you thought it was sweet how your boyfriend, suguru, has a period tracker on his own phone.

suguru never misses picking up when you are on your period. this man is always prepared when dealing with your moodiness.

yet you don’t notice that suguru has been observing you in a different way.

your face is buried in the sheets as your back is arched and ass is high up. the plap!plap!plap! of skins echoed in the room.

“ah—sugu, nghh—i can’t—anymore!” you mewled, face smushed on the sheets.

“you can—mmff—you fucking can” suguru grunted, rutting inside your cunt.

you are already feeling lightheaded from the previous pleasure but suguru wouldn’t stop for some reason—making you overstimulated.

your hands fisted on the sheets as you moaned out loud, trying to muffle the sounds on the mattress.

“hah—sugu, please—!” you cried out.

“i’m waiting for you to say it, angel.” suguru said, slowing down his pace. “haven’t heard you say those words”

“w-what?” you asked, looking back at him. “what—ah—are you talking about?”

suguru raised his brows at you, tilting his head a little to the side. “are you serious? don’t you think i’ll find out?”

the bed rocks again from suguru’s thrusting. you are getting mixed up with confusion and pleasure as his cock rams deep inside you at a punishing pace.

“fuck— you think i didn’t notice it? you always ask me to cum inside you when you’re on your safe days—hah—you think i didn’t notice?”

suguru grabbed a fistful of your hair making you scramble on your elbows to support yourself. your head is spinning from the way suguru’s cock fucks you deeper and harder.

“if you’re so serious about me filling you up, you better ask when you’re ovulating—right? nghh, fuuck—don’t tease me now, princess.”

“‘m sorry—hah—sugu, gonna cum—pleasepleaseplease” you whimpered, teeth digging on the flesh of your bottom lip.

suguru can tell you are almost there, he had you memorized even in having sex. suguru stopped his hips from moving—catching you surprised.

“s-suguru? why? what?” you looked back at him, feeling denied.

“you know what i want to hear.” suguru said, “you’re ovulating, aren’t you?”

your hips moved on your own, wanting a friction from your boyfriend just to finish the pleasure he is refusing to give.

“keep doin that, i’ll leave you here and just fuck my fist.”

you sniffled, giving up. “‘m sorry—please, sugu, i need you—need your cum inside me, now”

suguru smiles, that one that reaches his eyes. “atta girl.”

suguru moved, slamming his cock deep inside your pussy without waiting for you to adjust. your hands clawed that sheets as his hands grip on your hips.

you can feel the pleasure build up in your stomach, pussy clenching on suguru’s fat cock. “ahh, ahh! sugu, ‘m close! fuck, sorry—hah!”

“fuckfuckfuck—me too, angel—fuck, don’t clamp on my cock like that or else—”

high from the pleasure, you nodded at suguru. “want it inside—please, sugu, cum inside—fill me up, please”

“nghh, my princess is such a fast learner, huh” suguru’s expression twist, mouth falling open from euphoria. “gonna stuff you real good with my semen, just how you deserve it.”

[neossence]

🏐 "𝑺𝑼𝑮𝑼𝑹𝑼 𝑮𝑬𝑻𝑶," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ nsfw frat!geto x virgin!reader ꗃ .. smut mdni ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ mina says reupload from toruzip ⁀ ˳ ⟡

Your friends were bad for you, especially when they teased you for being a virgin.

Being a virgin in university was not a crime, nor was it bad... but your friends made you feel like a baby for it. Always cooing at you, saying things like "Don't talk about your sex life! Y/N's here!" before covering your ear with playful gasps, as if you were some innocent 4 year old.

It annoyed you to no end, so you started decided to put plan "begin your sex life" into action. Scoping out the boys in your lecture halls, on campus, are cafe's... everywhere. You hadn't found anyone until you visited an infamous frat part hosted by a man everyone knew on campus.

Suguru Geto. Playboy, fuckboy, almost every other girl has heard of how ungodly of a dicking he gave... and his infamous labret lip piercing.

You actually had eyed up Nanami at first, ticking off your mental checklist. He had money, if you fell pregnant he would be responsible, he's nice to you in your criminal law lectures. He was perfect! Your innocent smile must have attracted the wolves in the dark, as just as you were about to approach the blond haired man, someone's arm slid around you shoulders.

Wide, confused eyes, meeting purple irises with a small glint in them. The man's hair was tied up into a short half up, half down, silky black locks resting on his shoulder. That infamous lip piercing, those soft lips, that sweet alluring voice speaking against your ear, separated from the rest of the loud party.

"Didn't think I'd ever see you at one of my parties," Suguru purred.

"Oh I'm just—"

"I heard whispers from the grapevine that you were looking for someone to take your virginity, is that right?" He cooed at you, taking the opportunity to twirl a lock of your hair in his hand, his other large hand holding onto a can of Pepsi. A small chuckle escaping his lips at the blush spreading across your cheeks when you darted your gaze away. So fucking adorable, he thought.

Frantic eyes darting away, you refused to look at him. It was so embarrassing for him to know. Not to mention, how did he even know?

Amidst the smell of sex, sweat and alcohol in the loud, raging party, all you could focus on was Suguru's piercing gaze on you. The way he licked his bottom lip, his piercing shifting slightly from the movement. "Uhm... how'd you know about that? I didn't tell anyone.." you muttered, seeing as you had only ever told the nerdy guy you sat next to at the anime club on Thursdays, Gojo— oh. oh.

His best friend. Of course Suguru would know, since Satoru wasn't able to keep his mouth shut about a single thing.

"How I know, is not important," Suguru hummed to you before giving some random guy passing by his half drunk Pepsi can, flashing a charming smile before turning his attention back to you. "What is important... is the guy you're choosing, and so far I'm not likin' the looks you're giving Kento."

"Yeah, but I sadly can’t choose Satoru since he's already dating suk—" you were speaking, before cutting yourself off with a frozen look. Suguru's soft lips pressing gently against your forehead.

"I'm not talking about Satoru. I'm talking about me."

...

You don't even know how you ended up here. In Suguru's bedroom. With a naked Suguru, and a naked you.

Your soft cheeks and the tips of your ears felt like they were on fire, the tip of your nose itching from the haze of being in bed with one of the hottest people on campus. Clammy hands, and spread legs as you were overthinking every minuscule detail. Small whines and whimpers slipping past your lips as you wished to keep those embarrassing noises inside.

Suguru grumbled, looking up from between your legs. His hair a mess, his mouth, lips and chin dripping from your slick. "Hey. Eyes on me, and stop hiding your moans..." he trailed off when lowering his head again and suckling on your clit, flicking kitten licks over the sensitive nub, "...you sound so good."

Needy whines and moans escaped your pursed lips, as you arched your back and dug your hands into his hair, "...S-sugu... mm-mh.."

"fuck yeah, moan for me," a muffled groan came out from between your thighs, drowned out by the lewd and loud suckling and slurping. His hands kneading your hips, keeping you close, while your thighs tightened, keeping his head trapped against your leaking, wet pussy. "More.." you moaned out for him, a little embarrassed.

He let out a wet chuckle from between his erotic groans. "Yeah? Want more?"

He slipped a finger inside your tight little hole, making your hips buck up, and you bite down on your bottom lip from the sensation. Curling it to rub up on your gummy walls, he licked around your folds and pussys lips, before doubling down on his licking at your clit.

A second finger soon slipped inside, making you moan in a loud, lewd tone. Your walls were beginning to quiver, a new sensation taking over your body. "w-wait–"

"shh, just let it happen doll.. fuck, just cum on my tongue.."

You drawled out a moan of his name, eyes squeezing shut and your back arching, pushing out your tits into the air. Nipples pebbled, and a warm, numbing feeling washing down your waist. Warm liquid trickling down your thighs, as Suguru groaned deeply and eagerly suckled up your cum, fingers digging into the plush of your hips.

He pulled away after about a minute, breathless with your cum dripping down his chin and completely coating the lower half of his face. He wiped it with the back of his hand before a lazy smirk took over his lip.

"Didn't know you were such a slut... cumming all over my tongue like that and moaning my name."

"it's embarrassing... don't talk about it," you muttered in the haze of bliss, heating up your face when Suguru shifted to be on top of you, your thighs spread and wet pussy rubbing against his navel. You could feel his erection, hard and striking brush against your ass when he damn near folded you in half.

"don't talk about it? Are you fucking serious? it's all I can think about right now..." he trailed off, eyes lustfully gazing over the naked you pinned beneath him.

“Do you even realise—” Suguru huffed before grabbing the length of his dick, pre cum dribbling down onto your wet pussy lips. He rubbed the head over your folds, before gently parting your folds to start pushing the thick head of his cock inside your tight, wet hole. “—just how much I’ve wanted you?”

You hiccuped softly, beginning to whine and claw down his back. Bringing him down closer down against you, “h-huh? Whatddya mean..?” You drawled, moaning when the thick head of his sock popped inside your hole. He let out a guttural groan, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. “H-hurt… go slow,” you whined softly, feeling the initial pain. Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

“Shh.. shh.. I’ll be gentle, baby just—just f-fuck.. don’t squeeze me like that..”

He started to thrust. He was… surprisingly gentle with his hips, knowing exactly how to touch you and tease you without making you burst into tears from the pain. “F-fuckfuckfuck… you’re gonna make me blow my load on the s-spot..!” He groaned before letting out a small needy whine against your neck.

“You s-seriously never noticed? I literally asked for your number on orientation week..!”

You whined against his shoulder, nails digging into his back as you were being fucked dumb, just a floor above one of the loudest parties you’d ever been to. His cock slipping in and out of your walls with ease, the lewd shlicks telling a story between the creaking on the bed. The stretch of having a cock inside you for the first time was… painful, you wouldn’t lie about it.

“W-whennn? I don’t remember—” you whined between moans and whimpers, before hitching your breath when realising what he was talking about.

His purple eyes, big dorky glasses, black silky hair in a messy bun, and pursed lips as he gave you his phone with trembling hands. Talking about wanting to get your number, and about to introduce himself… before feeling his phone quickly given back to him and seeing you run off into the distance.

You blushed at the memory, knowing why you had ran away.

“I— *hic* I was scareddd.. you were the first guy who asked for my number and I got s-scareddd..” you let out a small needy whine, tightening your arms around his neck and scratching, leaving red lines on his muscular, sweaty back. Moans escaping your lips without control.

His thrusts got faster, deeper, as he cooed and shushed you against your ear. His lips pressing kisses all over your neck, before sucking small purple hickeys. The thick head of his cock pressing against your gummy cervix, the squishy head prodding at it insistently.

Before you felt another orgasm wash through you. Moaning, “S-Sugu..” out against his shoulder with a lewd cry.

His thrusts got wetter, his balls now covered in your slick cum, slapping against your ass. His plunging cock slowly slowing down, even if he didn’t get to cum himself yet. A gentle kiss was pressed against your forehead again, before your eyes met his purple ones that seemed so soft under the moonlight that flickered through the blinds of his window. The room smelled of sex and sweat now, but Suguru wasn’t nearly done with your body.

“…you wanna get my number now, doll?”

You nodded to him, hiccuping softly with a pout when you felt emotions wash over you. The hottest guy in your university had asked you out—and you had run away scared when he did.

“And hey—those friends you told me about? Yeah. Not happening. You hang out with me now.”

© 𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 ★ do not copy, translate, or republish my work, do not use for ai training.

[slttygeto]

the concept of suguru mocking your whimpers and whines as he absolutely destroys you on your couch.

you two know that your roommate could come back anytime soon, how easily you could get caught — and yet somehow, suguru manages to hypnotize you with each slow and delicious snap of his hips.

“ah,” you gasp, its a high pitched sound and your hands reach for his shoulders for support. your nails dig into his skin, eyes focused on when your bodies connect. “f-fuck.”

“ah,” suguru mimics your noise, pulling his cock all the way back before slamming into your pussy again. his teeth sink into his bottom lip to suppress the wicked grin that’s spreading across his face, he’s too proud of the fact that you look like a mess.

your eyes shoot upwards, and suguru hates how his heart lurches in his chest.

pretty eyes are glossy all over, your lips bruised and plump from being kissed so passionately by him, then your mouth quivers and a hand rests on his chest.

“you’re mocking me,” you say it with so much sadness, but your pussy flutters around his cock and suguru groans as he buries his face in your neck.

“sweet girl,”

“o-oh!” he spreads your legs, pushing your thigh open with one hand as he grips the skin. this gives him a better angle, allows him to go deeper than before and it’s evident in the way your body tenses up at the feeling.

“oh yeah?” he questions, voice bordering on breaking too because fuck does it feel good to be destroying you.

“y-yes!”

“yeah?” he asks again, his cock dragging deeper and harder against your walls, his hand wrapping around your neck. “let me fucking hear you. come on. come on baby—“

a high pitched “suguru!” echoes through the living room of your apartment, the couch moves away from its original spot with how hard he’s fucking you.

even after you cum, even after he sees your soul escaping your body, not once does he slow down nor does he show mercy. he continues to fuck into you, mean strokes near sending you to the after-life with how desperately you’re gripping his shoulders.

begging, pleading with him to take it easy on you.

“p-please, no more—“

“nah, you’ll take it.” and he means it, his hand pushes you down on the couch and he pins you there.

because suguru doesn’t just fuck to fuck, he likes to play with you and leave you a babbling mess even after you cum.

[spirit-tree-bois]

More thoughts with me~

You and Enjin huddled up in your bathroom, he sits on the edge of the tub. His blonde hair clipped up, out of the way of your busy hands. One holds a comb, the other trimmers buzzing away.

This became a silent ritual between the two of you. Enjin's undercut would grow out, poking at the tops of his ears. The top section too long for his classic updo style. Being observant, you take that as a telltale sign for trim.

"Keep moving, or I'll nick your neck again."

"Don't threaten me with a good time~"

As quick as the words fly out, you slap him upside the head, comb in hand. The blonde grunts back in return.

"Just remember sweets, I'm doing your hair too."

Did I forget to mention Enjin also helps you in return? Helping maintain that hair of your, whether it be cutting, styling, coloring, you name it. Let's just say it's a very taunting process 🤭

[lxnarphase]

❤︎ NSFW ALPHABET FT. ENJIN

❤︎ cw . . . reader x enjin, established relationship, mix of normal gachiakuta verse and modern au, overall enjin is a freaky ass slut for his pookie

❤︎ note . . . i am but a slut for a good, classic nsfw alphabet post, let alone if it's for our dearest enjin, so enjoy my whorish headcanons for one of our favorite blondies. also i figured since the text is broken up, it should be easy to read, but i'll be posting this on my ao3 too so you can see it in normal size since i know some of my fellow blind baddies struggle reading the tiny text LOL

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

after sex, enjin always starts off with some kind of stupid joke. you think it's annoying and that he's cringe, but it's his way of seeing how your feeling. if you respond with a scoff and a muffled giggle, he knows you're doing good and able to fully respond. if you respond with a cute little noise or huff, he knows your fucked out and that he gets to baby you until you come back fully to him. he's kissing all over your face, biting your cheek playfully, asking if you need a cigarette, water, and the moment he can see you can sort of use your legs, he's ushering you to go pee before getting too comfy because he knows you will try to get out of it

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

his favorite part of himself is his arms, and it's no thanks to the way you love to run your hands up and down them, cooing how pretty they are and that you love how his tattoos swirl on his skin, that they're so strong and solid, and the amount of times you bite them tells him you aren't lying. his favorite part of you is a tie between your neck and hips, because he loves kissing all over the sensitive skin of your neck, but loves gripping your hips, feeling how soft and squishy you are under his hands.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he loves to cum on your pussy OR on your dick because he's a weird pervert who will then use his own cum to swirl circles into your clit or stroke your cock, chuckling under his breath when you whine about being too sensitive, but he knows you can give him one more so you can mix your release with his.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

sometimes, when you're away too long, he humps the bed while sniffing your pillow, using the scent of your shampoo to get himself off. yeah, he could use whatever underwear is in the laundry basket, but he gets sappy (and hard) thinking about the next time he'll be able to smell your shampoo when he leans down to kiss your forehead.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

very, very experienced, and he is unfront about it with you that yes, in his early twenties he was a bit of a sleaze that slept around a lot, using it as a way to deal with his emotions whenever he felt too much…and yes, he still is, but only with you now, and genuinely loves showing off he knows what he's doing, that he knows how to make you cum so much that you go stupid just for him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

obsessed with riding, he loves watching you bounce in his lap, using him for your own pleasure. he doesn't care how you move, what you do, but being able to watch you lose yourself as you use him and his dick for your own pleasure, hands braced on his chest to bounce up and down is something he will never get tired of. and when you let out that cute whine of his name, hips barely moving except grinding back and forth on him because you're getting too close to keep going, he's immediately helping, planting his feet against the floor, bed, whatever surface he can use, and fucking up into you, making sure he can get you over that edge like you need.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

even if it's the meanest hate fuck or the sappiest, most love filled sex, he's always going to crack some kind of joke, some kind of tease that just makes you giggle and hold onto him a little tighter, curl into him a little more, and soften up just the right way.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

he's groomed well, but will never ever get rid of his happy trail, because it looks so fucking good paired with his tattoo and he KNOWS it. sometimes he throws out the idea of dying it to match the colors of his tattoo but he's lowkey paranoid about the scent of hair dye lingering around his dick.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

some days, enjin just needs to go slow, needs to be tender, needs you to really show how much you love him for being him, not because he's a cleaner, not because he's cocky, but because he's worth something to you. when he's like this, he's slow, gentle, giving deep, slow thrusts, pulling all the way out before pushing riiiight back in, kissing you constatnly. but even if it's the roughest, hate filled fuck, he's kissing you sweetly, pressing his forehead against yours as he glares into your eyes and constantly mutters "fuck, i love you, i love you so fucking much, you make me insane" because it's true. no matter how rought a session is, he's gotta say it, got to know this isn't just sex for him, that you are his and he is yours.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

he's really sexy when he jerks off, it kind of pisses me off. he'll casually be sitting near the window, cigarette in his hand and his cock in the other as he lazily strokes himself, his hand going up and down the full length with a wet schlick, schlick, schlick, and every time he focuses right on the tip, his head tips back as he exhales the smoke into the air, a deep groan following after. sometimes, if you show up, he'll beckon you over, having you lean in and give him a little kiss while his other hand is still moving…and he'll oh-so sweetly whisper,"c'mon baby, spit on it for me, get me wet a lil' more." and the fucking moan he lets out is so sexy, and his hand is suddenly speeding up. enjin's so debauched when he's masturbating, it's genuinely insane.

K = Kink (g: giving, r: receiving, b: both)

cumplay, face fucking, bukkake (g), lactation, spit kink, dacryphilia, scent kink, sensory deprevation, high heels, clothed sex, belly/throat bulge, light bondage (b), breathplay (b), brat taming (b), cock rings, edging (b), free use (b), overstimulation, face slapping (r), spanking (g), breeding, degradation, pet play, biting, play fighting, glory holes, praise kink (b), size difference, voyuerism, exhibitionism, daddy kink (r), mommy kink (g), orgasm control (b), somnophilia (b), humiliation (g)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

if it's not in the back of a car, he loves fucking you in public. whether it's grabbing you and pulling you into a public restroom ("i know baby, its gross, i'll be quick though, c'mon, spread 'em for me") or in a cramped alley way ("shh, shh, c'mon, i gotcha, fuck, here? okay, yeah, yeahyeahyeah, jump up, 'm gonna fuck you against the wall"), he loves the thrill of possibly getting caught. and it's not just public-public spaces that he enjoys, but i'm talking his buddies are all gathered in your living room space of your little apartment and he's rutting into you against the kitchen countertop, knowing damn well they can hear you hiccuping back your moans and that if they turn their heads, they'll see your pretty face smushed against the counter, trying not to look at the poor flustered guys in your living room.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

what turns him on the most is your pleasure. he's absolutely obsessed with you and making you feel good, whether its sexually or romantically. you get happy because he did something for you and you smile at him? hard as a rock. you kiss him on the cheek before he has to leave to run errands or head to HQ? tip is leaking in his boxers. you tuck your panties into his pocket for good luck? he's fucking you in the doorway of your apartment before he leaves. your happiness is his ultimate turn on, and he lowkey hates it because it means you get him hard from the simplest of things.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

he's kind of iffy on the idea of getting physical with you, he doesn't know if he could ever slap you in the face. he'll slap your tits, your ass, your pussy, but he genuinely doesn't think he could ever bring himself to do it to your face, even if you begged him with those pretty eyes and cute pout. it just…makes me sad to think about you tearing up from the sting.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

while he always jokes that 69ing gives the best of both worlds, he's whipped for some pussy. the type to get upset when you pull away because its too much, because your overstimulated, but he's not done. he's making out with your pussy, giving big fat licks up and down the enitrety of it, two fingers spreading you open so he can lap up every drip of your slick that pours out of you, lips kissing all over your clit between mean sucks, mouth pressed against it as he licks it over and over and over again while he's pumping those thick fingers in and out of you, trying to coax more of your wetness out for him to lick up.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

for enjin, it all depends on what the 'vibe' is. for any normal sex, it starts off slow and ends up desperate, his hands gripping either you, the headboard, the sheets, whatever he can get a hold on as he practically growls out how much he loves you wrapped around him, his hips slapping into you at a quick pace. but if he's angry/pent up/frustrated? he's fucking you into the mattress and he's giving you deep, mean thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix as you can't do anything but take it. if he's sad/sappy/really happy, he's an absolute loser, kissing, whining, begging you to tell him you love him, kissing you before you can even finish your sentence as he just rolls his hips into you, barely pulling out of you as he pants into your mouth, his fingers laced with yours.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

enjin loves quickies and is obviously down for them whenever you are, but just know, that's just the appetizer. the quick shuffling of clothes to the side, just enough time for both of you to feel good, the hushed and hurried moans and curses, god, he lives for that, but it's not enough to leave him truly satisfied, he needs you completely bare, needs to have you loud and open about how good you feel, and will be back to make sure he gets the second part of your quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

with you, he's down to try almost anything and everything. if it puts you in any genuine danger or health at risk, he's not gonna do it, but risky shit like fucking in public, using toys in public, sending a slutty picture to one of your shared friends you both know are into you? he's alllll for it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

the amount of times he has made the joke 'i'm called enjin for a reason, baby' is sickening. he can last for a long fucking time, and the fact he loves his cock rings doesn't help. he refuses to cum until you do…at least 3 times, and he always aims to make you give him 5 orgasms. so he can make one round last 40 minutes to an hour and a half, but if you piss him off, you'll be locked in the bedroom all day and cumdrunk before he even puts his dick inside of you. his refractory period is a bit long, so once you make him cum, give him 10 minutes to get his baring back and he promises, he'll drag you through another hour long round all over again if you need him to.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

all the toys he owns are things he bought to test out on you. he's a freak, and an even bigger weirdo when it comes to seeing the different ways he can make you feel good. he's got bullet vibes, rabbit vibes, nipple clamps, handcuffs, ropes, dildos, suction toys, ball gags, blind folds, vibrating wands, bunny tail plugs, and all kinds of lubes. sure, he's got his cock rings he uses on himself, but otherwise he never really uses them on himself…but he's not against you getting the upper hand on him and getting those damn handcuffs on him and using the vibrators on his tip and the wands on his balls…not opposed to that at all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

that's all he ever does, is tease. in private, in public, he's teasing you to get you riled up, and he especially loves it when his teasing makes you frustrated, makes you shove him away and huff his name in that stern voice, because he can feel how hot your skin is getting from all the dirty shit he's whispering in your ear, the way his hands are massaging your thighs, or the way he'll grope you a little bit before slipping away like nothing happens. he thinks you're cute when your frustrated and pent up, and won't give anything else until you come to him and admit you need him.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

lots of groans, choked moans of your name, sometimes a little whine here or there. oh, and absolutely loves loooooves dirty talking, making sure you can't hide from his words, even if you try to hide your face, he'll get nice and close to your face as he repeats himself, making sure you heard him. oh, but he pants like a fucking dog when he gets close, voice getting choked and raspier as he gets closer to cumming, all of his desperation for you really coming out in his voice so you can hear just how obsessed he is with you.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he's really fucking gross and likes to make you cum all over him, soaking his clothes whether its his pants from making you grind against his thigh, or his shirt from making you squirt all over his mouth, he fucking loves the reactions he gets from his friends when they see him with a big ole grin and drenched shirt/sweats, and will 100% ask if they want to get a taste from his clothing like an ass.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

enjin is a shower, at a nice 7.3in/18.5cm and a nice thickness that makes it not too much…but it's still a lot. he's nice and veiny too, with a nice, thick one right on the underside that makes him twitch violently if you drag your tongue over it. but jesus christ the curve on it is demonic, it's curved so perfectly that no matter what you do, he always hits your sweet spot perfectly, his stupid, thick tip bullying against it everytime he's inside you.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

it's so high, he could be in the middle of bleeding out and you say you need him, he's some how putting the body power to stop the bleeding for a moment so he can make you cum. but realistically, he's genuinely always ready to go, and has made sure you know this because he's more than happy to be your outlet for him. and if you have the same energy, you could be in the middle of doing laundry in the most basic outfit ever and he's groaning as he tries to eat you out over those ugly, green pajama pants.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

the second enjin feels that you are settled in, he is out like a light. like, i'm talking you cuddle up to him and go to say something, he's fucking snoring in your ear, eyes partially open and drool dripping down his cheek already. it's so gross, he sleeps like a weirdo, but you can always tell you fucked him good too because you can't even wake him up by shaking him a bit. but don't feel bad for shaking him hard if he's snoring too loud, he'd be annoyed if he were you too.

[miyacchino]

♡ — a lesson learnt | enjin

where you jokingly tell him that you haven't cum yet and end up learning a important lesson

!! overstimulation & slight? spit play

Enjin collapses onto the bed, both of you trying to catch your breath after the intense lovemaking session you just had where he had you screaming his name and digging your nails into his broad back.

He grabs a cigarette and his lighter from the pocket of his coat that's sprawled on the floor, lighting it with practiced ease.

"Fuck" he exhales the smoke, chest covered in a sheen of sweat, looking like whole snack that you want to devour once again and again and..

"Enjin.." you mumble softly, plopping on your elbows and admiring his beautiful face.

"Hm?"

"I didn't cum yet"

*cricket noises*

The post-sesh cigarette falls from between his lips and drops on to the floor, his jaw falls open in shock and eyes wide, "are you for fucking real?" He asks in a low voice, clearly still in shock. "You're lying" he side eyes you, a little 'no?' escaping his lips when you look at him with a serious expression.

"It's ok. It's alright, really—"

He cuts you off by raising his hand, "no.. stop.. really?"

Enjin drags his hand over his face in defeat and embarrassment, "I. Am. So. Sorry" pink dusts his ears as he says that and you have to hold yourself back from laughing at his silent crash out.

"Gonna make it up to ya" with that he quickly climbs between your legs, big hands grabbing your soft thighs to keep them open for him "more than one way to make you a mess for me"

"No wait" you laugh at his antics, "I'm so sorry, i was joking" you try to bite back your laugh but it bursts out of you anyway.

Enjin's movements come to a halt, his eyebrow raised at you as he scoffs in disbelief, "you fucking liar. You almost made me doubt my capabilities. Do you know how much it damaged my self esteem, I'll never recover!"

The room fills with the sound of your giggles that you fail to suppress, your face red at his ranting, "Enjin, you'll live! I said I'm sorry, it was just a joke. Get off now"

Your laugh dies down when he doesn't budge from between your legs, his expression stern and his grip tightening on your thighs, "this calls for a punishment, don't ya think?" His voice is gravelly and you can tell he means business.

"Enjin, listen-" before you can finish your sentence, his mouth is on your quivering hole. Still sensitive form the previous round but that's not his concern right now.

"Didn't cum you said, hm?" He groans over your pussy, the vibrations making you gasp and mewl his name, "Let's see how many times you cum before you go stupid for me"

"No I didn't—Enjin! Was just joking" your thighs tremble at the way he sucks harshly over your clit, continuing to assault that spot, he knows what exactly makes you putty in his hands.

His tongue drags up from your little hole and towards your clit, where his lips latch onto the bundle of nerves, sucking over it and making you see stars.

Your cries and begs of "'m sorry" and "'please" fall on deaf ears, his mouth focused on torturing your overstimulated little pussy that's crying for him now, leaking all over his chin and making obscene squelching sounds.

Enjin smacks your thighs when you try to close them, big hands spreading them apart easily, pinning your knees onto the bed, "keep 'em open f'me now, brat" he sounds breathless, pussydrunk and going stupid before you did.

Enjin looks up through his lashes as he ravages you, groaning in satisfaction at your teary eyes and how your mouth falls open in pleasurable cries, "love the view from here. Mind if I stay here for a few hours?" He teases, your eyes open wide in shock, "no. Can't" you shake your head, hands grabbing his hair to push him away.

He tuts, spitting over your slick folds, tongue making a mess of you. "You will" he commands before diving back in.

Those are the last words you remember before your eyes roll back as an orgasm rips out of you with a cry of his name. And one more, and one more.. Enjin only stops when your body goes limp under him, a proud smirk plastered over his face at your spent form, "satisfied yet?"

You end up learning an important lesson: never bruise enjin's ego. He WILL prove himself in ways that'll leave you a stupid mess.

all thanks to @noelwife for the amazing idea 🫡

thinking of doing something like this for other characters too ??