꒰🫐 — General relationship headcanons, requested by anon!；
꒰🍨 — Kaito is refered as a vocaloid once throughout the post；
꒰🫐 — PSD: Ultramarine Hymn by @/cuisinekuga — Art credit — Divider credit；
Having Kaito as a partner means many things, including, but not limited to, receiving many presents. From the small to the big presents, you will receive anything, as long as you have simply mentioned it once, maybe twice, for him, and the next thing you know is that he's buying it for you, asking if you have a preference for a color or anything else specific for the object. Yes, anything that you mention. Yes, you will have to stop him every time.
He is always taking every chance to show you how much he loves you. Not only using every opportunity to buy something for you, but also using every opportunity to take your hand or to give you a kiss, regardless of you being at home or outside! He just wants to show you affection… All the time, yes.
Because of your shy nature and some of your tsundere reactions, he is very cautious to not overstep your boundaries! He doesn't want you to feel overwhelmed in any way, so he will probably ask you many questions from time to time… But don't take it the wrong way! If you want him to keep indulging you, just give him the word and he will be more than happy to continue!
Also, I hope you like to receive hugs every so often. He loves hugging you every opportunity he has, and will only let go if he has to or if you ask him to, and every time he lets you go, he will be waiting for the next opportunity to hug you again.
Expect him to give you the most… Weirdly adorable (?) pet names. Sugar Snap Pea, Cutie Patootie, "My chocolate chip ice cream with extra chocolate chips and cookie dough"… Things like that, maybe sometimes worse. You can get used to it, of course, but he will very gladly take any and every advice from you if you want to give some!
He is very down bad for you — it's not like he hides it, but he loves, loves to see you smile and hear your laughter. He can and will do anything to see you smile again or hear the sound of you laughing at something he did or said. He probably has already told you, but he fell in love with you because of it… You know that, don't you?
Kaito is a vocaloid, yes, and he takes advantage of that by going after your favorite songs and singing them for you from time to time. Regardless of the genre or even the language of the songs you hear, he will learn how to sing them and, every so often, you will be surprised to hear him singing a song that has been on your repeat for the last week.
He also really enjoys dancing. Dancing anything, really. He would love to learn your favorite choreographies from your favorite songs, but he'd also be delighted to learn some waltz with you as well! So, if there's something you want to learn, invite him in! He would have so much fun learning with you!
He might not have said that to you, but he does enjoy seeing you embarrassed… Of course, not to the point of getting overwhelmed, but he does enjoy knowing how you feel only by your expressions. He thinks it's cute! He always says you're cute, but you're extra cute like that!
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), you ever just… wanna fuck kaito in every sekai and want to know how he dirty talks? these headcanons are made for you then, kaito dirty talking, plenty of intercourse, mirror sex, cunnilingus, praise, self degradation, and plenty more honestly, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
he doesn’t talk much. schoolsekai!Kaito is all but silent, aside from breathy moans of your name muffled into the crook of your neck. he prefers, much more, to hear the way your breath hitches when he hits that sweet spot. he would much rather show you how much he loves your body by the way he fucks you, slow and deep, full of passion, instead of trying to find words to express it that would otherwise be impossible.
with all of his weight on top of you, he pins you to the desk so that he can feel every inch of slick skin as you grind into his thrusting. he likes when your hands wander about his back, and down to sink your nails into the flesh of his ass as his hips rock. if you’re lucky, you can hear a slurred and husky, “—Good,” before he seals his mouth over your pulse point and sucks, “Feels… good…”
stagesekai!Kaito is addicted to praising you. “Look at me,” he moans if you dare to let your heavy eyelids close. “Look only at me, let me see those beautiful eyes!” if your lashes flutter, and a happy whimper leaves your lips, or you hit a note higher than you do on stage, Kaito knows he’s doing it right. he wants to feel all of you, but if he’s slithering against you, he can’t watch your expression change with the depths of his thrusts, so he props himself up on his palms, allowing you to hook both knees on his waist. you perhaps try to hold on to his chest, but eventually the steady pumping into you, jostling you about, forces your arms to fall slack, so your fists wrap around his wrists, as if to anchor yourself below him. you can hardly hear yourself think over his idolizing, his happy moans when you squeal because he’s deep. “You’re so cute right now, so… so… perfect! You’re the prettiest— the softest girl in the world, taking— taking me in, taking me…” his baritone leaks infatuation, and the sensation of your sex caressing his throbbing cock is almost overloading his mind. he can only blurt out how much he adores you.
“Kaito,” if you mewl his name, it’s all over. “Kaito, you feel good!”
he’ll start to babble, pupils blown out, and cheeks red. “Moan my name so cute for me again, please! Oh, angel, you sound so sweet— you’re going to make me cum!”
you would think that streetsekai!Kaito wouldn’t be much of a talker, considering the fact that he prefers to eat you out, but you’d be wrong. he loves to tell you how sweet you taste, and how you’re his absolute favorite dessert. he does so with his mouth smushed between your thighs, tongue hanging out. he doesn’t care if his words are garbled, he knows you decipher them.
“Kaito,” you breathe out, as shaky as your handling of the coffee pot. there’s no way you’d be able to pour it into the cup you’ve set out, so eventually you set it back down and grab the edges of the countertop instead. “I.. I’m trying… to…work…”
but Kaito isn’t listening. he’s humming in content. knelt down behind the bar, head hidden under your skirt, both hands planted on your ass as he spreads it, Kaito runs laps with his tongue over your sex, from clit to clenching hole. his tongue is too skillful, and you blame it on the fact that he can never get enough of your taste. “I’ve been craving you,” when he finally takes a moment to breathe, it’s ragged and excited, signing his name over your button to watch you dance on your tip toes and tuck your knees in, whimpering gratefully. “And I just can’t help myself, not when your sugary cunt is begging for my tongue. She is, isn’t she?”
he’s right— you’re already soaked and rocking back and forth, pushing your ass back to try and coax him to dive back in, even though you want to pretend like your shift at the cafe was more important. you nod, spreading your legs as far as the elastic on the panties around your ankles would allow, and drop your torso down to the counter. “Mhm…!”
“Of course she is,” he purrs, teasing your core with the tip of his tongue, wiggling and flicking until you’re clamping around air, spasming in anticipation. fuck, he’s a tease. “She knows how addicted to her I am. How much I love sucking and licking your cute, little gumdrop clit.” as if to emphasize, he cranes his neck, careening his mouth upwards to seal his lips around your button and suckle until your eyes threatened to cross. “I’ll never get enough of you, you know. I’m always going to be starving for it.”
wonderland!Kaito is used to directing, so he talks you through your orgasms. “What a good girl you are,” he croons, one arm hooked around your belly and the other on your face. he started by petting your flyaways out of your eyes, so you could see yourself in the mirror as he plowed you, but when your mouth opened, and you moaned in hapless submission, his gentle fingertips traced the shape of your lips. “You can suck on them if you need to. Go on.” he encourages, noticing the way your teeth tease his nails. you want to. you need something to distract you from the amount of pressure he’s giving you from behind, and the turmoil in your belly. you nod, taking two of them in, and clamping your lips against his knuckles. “There, there, is that better? Give some of that pressure back to me, let me feel how you feel, my prettiest girl.”
you nod again, and you feel his other hand press against the faint shape of him in your lower abdomen, rubbing the pleasure knot from both sides. you try to look up at him, arching your back in an attempt to press the crown of your head into his sternum, but you catch only a glimpse before he kisses your forehead. “No, Princess, not me. I want you to look ahead. Watch yourself cum for me.” you have no choice but to obey a direction so sweetly crooned against your temple, and your eyes fall back to the mirror. you were trembling, eyelids droopy and your skin was hot and sparkling all over from perspiration, but when his thumb pressed against your chin, angling your pleasured expression, and you could see him kissing your ear, you swooned. “See how pretty you look?” you were agreeing with him, babbling dazed before you even realized it, “You’re putting on such a lovely performance, keep going. You’re almost there, Princess. Just a little more, let’s see the big finale. I know you can do it.”
emptysekai!Kaito barks. “Take it. Take it. Take it!” those two words are the only thing he allows to remain in your mind, pounding out any thought unrelated to the way he drives his cock home. hard and fast from behind, with one foot planted between your shoulder blades, he towers over you while you submit on your belly. “How badly do you want it? How hopeless are you for my cock?”
“So bad!” you cry in return, and bounce back with all of your strength, allowing yourself to collide with his brutal bucking, smearing your cheek over the solid, cold ground. your ass ripples when the ferocity launches you forward, but you scramble for the leverage to push back again. “Kaito! I’m s—so hopeless, I—I’m pathetic, please, please don’t stop!”
but he does— Kaito slows to a halt, regardless of your whimpering and begging, until you’re squirming and impaled, but stationary. “Show me.” grasping a handful of your roots at the crown of your head, he pulls your head off the floor and jerks it back, until you can squint, contorted in an uncomfortable arch, and look up at him. “Fuck it.”
whining, but compliant, you rock back and forth, groaning each time you push your ass flush to his groin and he fills you to your limit, and then huffing and puffing when you scramble forward, allowing all but the swollen head to slide out before slamming yourself back again. “K—Kaito— p—please—“ he could fuck you out the way you wanted, drill you into a trembling, incoherent mess, but he was gripping your hair, making you do it.
“If you’re as pathetic as you cry about being, you’ll fuck yourself stupid on my cock. So, fucking do it. Show me.”
Imagine being engaged to Rex. Maybe you're a child of a high-ranking noble or from an influential family and they decided to make you Rex's fiance (classic trope of "being engaged to a man with militaristic occupation in period-coded inspired setting"). Despite his tough and roughness due to his work as a Superintendent, imagine him begrudingly give in to your affection. Not because he thinks it's bad. He feels like "why am i folding so hard rn".
And everytime you greeted him home, he might not respond or tear his gaze away. You think he's displeased with you, until you come a little closer to help him take off his coat and you see... the tip of his ears turning red. He was trying so hard not to combust.
He can't help it! His heart won't stop racing with the sight of you welcoming him home. So cut him some slack for giving you just a headpat, alright?
--
game's only on Beta Test(s) and here I am already having this idea aughh
☆ HEADCANON : How would he be when he's obsessed?
☆ NOTES : English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!
It starts like a whisper.
He sees you once. Just once.
A mortal. Small, soft, fleeting. Beautiful, in the way flowers are beautiful before a storm rips through the valley. You were helping someone—you always are. You give without asking. You smile with the kind of kindness that gods have long since forgotten.
And Wukong watches.
Perched high on a crag, cloaked in fog and shadow. His golden eyes slit against the wind, tail flicking slowly behind him, like a tiger considering prey. But it isn’t hunger that stirs in him. Not yet.
It’s curiosity. Then fascination. Then obsession.
He doesn’t approach you. Not at first.
You’re mortal. He is not.
He is chaos and violence and divinity twisted into a monkey's form. He is the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. He is not meant for tenderness. He doesn’t feel the same way others do—he feels more. Louder. Like a storm slamming against the gates of the underworld.
He follows you instead.
Silently.
Wukong watches the way you braid your hair in the morning. Watches how your lips move when you whisper prayers. He’s crouched on rooftops and in trees, clinging to shadows like moss. You start to notice things missing: fallen petals placed on your windowsill, golden hairs clinging to your blankets, footprints that don’t belong to anyone human.
You think it’s a spirit.
You're not entirely wrong.
He grows restless.
You spoke to a man.
You laughed. Touched his arm. Wukong saw. He was right there. His claws gouged the bark of the tree he clung to. His tail lashed like a whip.
He thinks of turning that man inside out. Making a necklace from his bones. He doesn’t, but only because you might cry.
(He doesn’t want you to fear him. He wants you to love him.)
So he gets... clever.
He disguises himself. Not fully. Not well. He comes to you as a traveler, as a wanderer in need of rest. The moment your eyes land on him, his body goes hot. He thinks he might burn the entire village down just to feel your gaze again.
You offer him food. Shelter. You laugh at his riddles, even when they don’t make sense.
You’re not afraid of him.
He’s doomed.
The obsession turns physical.
He finds ways to be closer.
He brushes your shoulder when he passes. Steals the comb from your room just to breathe you in. He sleeps where your scent lingers longest. He’s feral about it—he thinks of biting your clothes, marking you with his teeth, claiming you in every way the beast in him understands.
Wukong carves your name into trees. Into stone. Onto his staff.
He mutters it like a mantra when he kills. You become his prayer, his divine purpose, his everything. The gods call him mad—he was already mad long before this. But now, you are the madness.
And he likes it.
He starts dreaming of you.
Gods don’t dream. But monsters do.
He dreams of you wrapped in his tail, riding on his back as he soars across heaven. He dreams of you sleeping in his lap, smiling at him like you’ve known him across lifetimes. He dreams of you begging him not to leave, kissing his jaw, whispering how much you need him.
He wakes up hard, wild-eyed, snarling. Kills three demons in a row just to cool down.
He’s not sure he can live without making you real in his arms.
He decides you belong to him.
Not in a way that he says out loud. No—he acts it.
You wake up to a golden hair curled around your finger. Your door opens by itself. No one can touch you without getting sick. The man who once flirted with you? Gone. The monk who tried to take you on pilgrimage? Dead by “mysterious demon attack.”
He stares at you when you sleep. Doesn’t blink.
He talks to you in riddles and parables, but the meaning is always the same:
I love you. I need you. I will never let you go.
He thinks about kidnapping you often. Taking you to his hidden temple, binding you in silks and worshipping you as a goddess until you forget the outside world. He doesn’t do it—yet. He’s waiting. Waiting for you to love him first.
(Or at least say you do.)
When you smile at him?
It’s over.
Wukong lets out a broken laugh. Loud. Joyful. Frightening.
That smile becomes sacred to him. You could slit his throat with it and he’d thank you. He begins to spiral, sees your face in flowers, hears your voice in wind. You touch his arm and he falls to his knees like you’ve blessed him.
He tells you you’re divine. That you were born from lotus and moonlight. That he saw you before he ever tasted sunlight. That the world existed only to create you.
He swears himself to you. Calls you “my moon,” “my soft one,” “my little heart.”
He’ll kill for you. Die for you. But most of all:
He’ll make sure you never leave.
It happens slowly.
A shift in the wind. A shadow across the moon. The kind of change that only someone truly paying attention would notice.
Wukong stops smiling with his mouth.
He starts smiling with his teeth.
You were kind to him again.
You stitched a tear in his robe. You brushed a stray leaf from his hair. You called him "friend"—and that word sliced through his chest like a blade.
Friend.
He laughed too loudly when you said it. His golden eyes didn’t crinkle like they used to.
The night after that, he sat on the roof of your home in the rain, whispering your name a thousand times over. Each time softer. Each time more broken.
He starts talking to you in ways you don’t understand.
“You’re not meant to be here,” he says one morning. “Not with them. They don’t see you like I do.”
You laugh nervously. “Wukong—”
“You don’t belong to this world. I’ve seen it, little flower. You were carved from stardust. You’re not like the rest.”
And then he stares. For too long. Like he’s trying to memorize you. Like he’s wondering if he can rip out his own heart and place it in your hands and if that would finally be enough.
Your life starts to fall apart.
Small things at first. A cracked wheel. A spoiled crop. The village elder dies mysteriously. The people whisper that you’re cursed—that you brought something unnatural with you.
And he’s always there. Comforting. Sweet. Smiling.
“I’ll protect you,” he says. “Even if the whole world burns.”
You start to feel like a butterfly pinned under glass.
You try to leave.
Only once.
Your bag is packed. You don’t leave a note. You tell no one. You slip out at dawn, your steps careful and quiet.
But he’s waiting for you in the forest.
Perched in a tree. Legs swinging. A smile on his face.
“You dropped this,” he says, holding up your scarf. His voice is honey, but there’s a tremble under it.
You don’t run. You don’t scream. You just... stare.
And his smile fades.
“…Why?” he asks. Soft. Hurt.
You don’t have an answer.
He drops down from the tree. Walks slowly. Hands raised like you’re a frightened animal and he’s trying not to startle you. And when he reaches you, he kneels. Claws digging into the dirt. Head bowed.
“I would never hurt you,” he whispers. “But I can’t live without you.”
He takes you.
It’s not violent. It’s not dramatic.
One night, he scoops you into his arms while you sleep. Cradles you like something sacred. You wake up to the sky bleeding with starlight, curled into him as he runs across mountains and clouds.
You scream. You hit him. You beg.
He doesn’t let go.
He carries you to a place forgotten by time. A ruined temple wrapped in mist and flowers. He lays you gently on a bed of silks, brushes your hair back, kisses your forehead.
“You’ll be happy here,” he murmurs. “I’ll make sure of it.”
You cry the first week.
You scream the second.
You go silent the third.
He tries everything to make you smile. Dances. Jokes. Stories from the heavens. He brings you flowers that don’t exist in the mortal world, serves you tea that glows with starlight, wraps his tail around your ankle while you sleep.
But your eyes don’t shine anymore.
And that kills him.
The bittersweet truth?
He loves you.
But he’s breaking you.
He knows. He can feel it in the way you flinch when he touches your hand. The way your laugh sounds like sorrow. The way your body stills when he whispers how much he adores you.
He wants to let you go. He tries.
But his hands won’t open. His heart won’t stop. He’s tasted your presence and now the absence feels like drowning in a sea of stars.
And then one day...
You touch his cheek.
You don’t say anything. You just look at him—really look. At the beast, the god, the broken thing who loves you too much to set you free.
Your eyes are tired. But there’s no hate in them.
Just... acceptance.
And that breaks him.
That night, Wukong curls around you like a dying flame.
He presses his forehead to yours. Trembling. Barely breathing.
“You were supposed to save me,” he says. “Not stay.”
And you whisper:
“I didn’t stay. You kept me.”
And for once, he doesn’t argue.
He just weeps.
Wukong begins to change.
Not in a way you expect. Not into something worse.
He becomes quiet.
Still obsessed. Still in love. Still hopeless.
But he stops trying to make you smile.
He just watches you now.
From doorways. From mountaintops. From across the room with those burning gold eyes that flicker when you breathe too deeply or look like you might run again.
You live in a soft golden cage.
It’s peaceful. Beautiful. A fantasy.
He cooks for you. Sleeps near you. Hums strange songs while brushing your hair.
But he doesn’t touch you unless you allow it.
And when you speak, he listens like your voice is the wind that moves the heavens.
It hurts, sometimes.
Because you know he’s still trying so hard to be what he thinks you want.
And you wonder if his madness is quieter now because it’s sinking deeper.
One night you wake up to sobbing.
You find him in the temple garden. On his knees in the moonlight.
Claw marks in the earth. His staff thrown aside. His tail limp behind him like a broken thread.
He’s crying. Ugly. Raw. Like someone bleeding from the soul.
You’ve never seen him like this.
Not Wukong, the arrogant king. Not the demon who stole you from the world.
But Sun Wukong, the lost thing. The lonely creature who once believed he could become a god and now only wants you to look at him like he’s human.
You don’t speak. You sit beside him. Slowly. Quietly.
After a long time, he says, “I hurt you.”
You don’t answer.
He turns his head toward you. His voice cracks:
“I don’t know how to love you right. But I love you so much, I’m going to rot from it.”
You close your eyes. The wind moves through the trees like breath.
“…I know,” you whisper.
After that, something shifts.
He stops calling you “mine.”
He starts calling you by your name again.
You notice he gives you space, but he’s always close.
He leaves gifts outside your room—simple ones. A fruit that tastes like honey. A carved wooden figure of you. A silk ribbon for your hair.
You start talking to him more. Not because you love him.
But because the silence feels lonelier now than he does.
You start to see what he used to be.
Not the madness. Not the cruelty.
But the playfulness. The joy. The mischief and the grief of someone who wanted to belong and never did.
He lets you ask him anything.
He tells you about Heaven. About the gods who mocked him. The chains. The mountain. The endless sky he stared at for five hundred years.
He tells you about the dream he had once—about protecting something instead of destroying it.
You say: “You could’ve been good.”
He says: “I still can be. If you teach me.”
Maybe he isn’t just obsessed.
Maybe he’s mourning.
Mourning the version of himself he lost.
Mourning the life he could have had with you if he’d only been better. Kinder. Less cruel.
You don’t forgive him. Not yet.
But you begin to feel the echo of something tender.
You touch his hand one morning. Just briefly.
His whole body shudders like the heavens cracked open.
And that night, when he falls asleep curled around your side—clutching your wrist like a child with a lifeline—you don’t pull away.
You let him stay.
You should hate him.
He stole you.
He trapped you.
He made you forget the smell of your village, the sound of your friends’ voices, the way your own name sounded when spoken without reverence.
And yet.
You wake up now to the sound of his heartbeat beneath your ear.
You feel his tail twitch when you shift beside him.
You feel his hand always near—not gripping, not restraining. Just there. In case you need it.
Like he’s guarding something precious.
Like you are something he’ll die to protect.
You test him.
You ask, “What would you do if I left now?”
His expression breaks.
But he bows his head. His voice is soft. Sincere.
“I wouldn’t stop you.”
You blink. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” he says. “But I’d follow you.”
“…To bring me back?”
“To see where you go. To make sure you’re safe.”
He smiles, slow and crooked. “I’m too selfish to stay behind. But I won’t steal you again. Not like that. Not if it makes you look at me like I’m a monster.”
And then he says something that ruins you a little:
“Even if you never love me, I still belong to you.”
It starts small.
You laugh at his joke. Just once. His eyes light up like he saw the sun rise after centuries of darkness.
You braid his hair one evening because it’s wild and tangled. His ears twitch the whole time. He doesn’t speak. He just leans into your touch like it’s holy.
One day, you call him “Wukong” and not “hey” or “you” or “demon.”
He repeats it under his breath for hours. Like a prayer.
And when he makes you tea, and you say “thank you,”
He stares down at the cup in his hands and quietly says:
“This must be what heaven feels like.”
You begin to miss him when he’s gone.
Only for a moment.
Only when he’s quiet for too long or disappears into the mountains for a day to hunt or gather or simply escape himself.
But you find yourself glancing at the door. Waiting for the sound of his voice. The thud of his staff. The rustle of his fur-lined robe.
You realize you trust him now.
Not because he earned it—but because he keeps choosing you over his own hunger.
And that means something.
One night, you speak first.
“You scare me sometimes,” you admit.
He stiffens. His whole body tenses like he’s ready to vanish.
“But I feel safe with you,” you add. “I don’t know how that works.”
His mouth opens. Closes. Opens again.
“You should’ve been a goddess,” he says, brokenly. “You forgive like one.”
You shake your head. “I’m not forgiving you. I’m still here. That’s all.”
And that night, when he kisses your hand before bed,
You don’t pull away.
You let him press his forehead to your palm. Let him tremble. Let him whisper thank you, thank you, thank you into your skin like a starving man at a feast.
You almost love him.
Not because he’s gentle now. Not because he’s beautiful or strong or speaks to you like you hung the stars.
But because when you cry, he cries with you.
When you bleed, he shakes with rage.
When you smile—truly smile—he touches his chest like he can’t believe his heart still works.
You find yourself hoping he never dies.
You find yourself wishing he’d never stolen you—so you could’ve met him another way. A softer way. A life where maybe you could’ve fallen for him freely.
But this is the life you have now.
You sit beside him in the ruins of the world.
He leans his head on your shoulder, eyes glowing like the sun behind clouds.
You don’t speak. You don’t move.
You just stay.
And in his silence, you feel it—
He’d burn down the heavens for you.
But he won’t ask you for love again. Not unless you offer it.
And somehow, that’s the cruelest, sweetest thing of all.
The sun was just starting to set on the tranquil Mountain of Fruit and Flowers. Wukong and his Queen were enjoying a stroll through the forest when the peace and quiet was broken by distant shouts. They sounded anxious, distressed, and, most concerning, young. Without hesitation, the Monkey King took your hand hurried towards the distant voices.
In a clearing not far off the trail, he found three monkey cubs huddled at the base of a tree. Two of them were chittering fretfully amongst themselves while trying to comfort their crying friend. When the trio noticed King and Queen had found them, they all tucked their tails nervously like they had been caught red-handed doing something they weren’t supposed to.
Before Wukong could even speak, you were already crossing the clearing towards the little ones. “What happened?” you asked, the question firm but still concerned.
The eldest of the cubs hesitated a moment before admitting, “We were playing and wanted to see who could climb the tallest tree. But the branch broke and Yue fell.”
Wukong watched his Queen’s face shift from disapproving to worried. You quickly picked the crying cub up and hugged him with a comforting coo. “Did you get hurt?” He stared with wide eyes as he nodded. “May I see?” The young monkey held out his paw for you to inspect.
From where he stood, Wukong could see it was nothing serious. Just a slight graze, most scary than harmful, but enough to teach a lesson. Still, you were careful and thorough as you checked over the superficial wound.
Seeing you so doting and compassionate towards his young kin fluttered a warmth deep within the Monkey King’s chest. For a moment, he imagined it was your own shared cub being coddled in your loving arms. It sparked a burning urge that refused to settle even as he shoved the thought aside for later contemplation.
“It’s just a little scrap,” you said after a quick assessment. A soft kiss was pressed to the injured paw and you smoothed the ruffled fur back down with a smile. “There, all better now. Let’s be more careful next time, alright?”
The little monkey nodded and jumped down to join his friends. All three shuffled in place, looking both thankful and apologetic under the royals’ chastising stares.
“You know you’re not supposed climb the tall trees,” Wukong spoke up, more disappointed than angry. “The top branches aren’t sturdy and it’s a long way down if you fall. You’re lucky it was only a small scratch this time. Don’t climb that high again, understood?”
“Yes, Grandpa Sun,” the monkeys agreed ruefully.
You nodded in approval. “It’s getting late. You three go straight home and remember to be more careful next time you play.”
“Yes, Grandma Peach.”
With heads bowed and tails tucked, the cubs scampered off into the trees and towards the mountain. The instant they were out of sight, you let out a relieved sigh and glanced towards Wukong.
“Never a dull moment with the little ones around, huh?”
He smiled softly and wrapped his arms around your waist to hug you from behind. “You can say that again.” A quiet moment passed as the setting sun cast pink and purple hues over the serene mountain. But the linger thought from before still simmered under Wukong’s fur and pestered him to speak. “You know, I’ve been thinking…”
“That’s dangerous territory,” you teased.
“Ooh someone’s cheeky today.” Wukong nuzzled his ticklish cheek fur against your neck, grinning to himself when you giggled and squirmed in his hold. “I was going to say, you handled the little ones very well. You’ll make a wonderful mother someday.”
You stilled in his arms and Wukong worried he had overstepped. Then you leaned into him, lacing your fingers with one of the hands folded over your belly. “You think so?”
“I know so.”
“Well, I think you’re already a great father,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. “You take such good care of all your monkeys. It really is wonderful to see.”
Wukong’s head reeled for a moment, trying to decipher if there was a subtle rejection hidden within the compliment. When you noticed the slight frown and furrowed brow, you pressed a loving kiss to his cheek.
“You know, I’ve been thinking as well…”
The bait was too tempting to ignore. “Now who’s being dangerous?”
A playful swat to his shoulder made the monkey chuckle. “Very funny. As I was saying, I know you consider your monkeys your children and grandchildren. But I do wonder…” Another kiss danced at the corner of his lips, more teasing than before. “Shouldn’t a King have an heir?”
Hope and heat flared back to life within the monkey. It took everything Wukong had to swallow down his urge to pounce and speak calmly. “I would be honored if my Queen would offer me such a gift.”
This time, the kiss was all passion and promise that kindled the urge into an inferno. “I would be honored to share such a gift with you,” you answered lustfully.
A needy growl rumbled up from Wukong’s chest. “In that case…” You were suddenly swept up and thrown over the Monkey King’s shoulder as he started a brisk pace back towards the mountain. And your shared chambers. “Best not waste any time. Hope you didn’t have any plans for the next few days, my Peach.”
enjin makes a bet with gob that he could easily make you fall for him. the biggest mistake of his life, because he falls harder. — cw: massive angst, no hea, standalone.
The neon lights flickered brightly in the dirty bar. It had been always that one bar to go for the cleaners and tonight was no difference.
Some strayed around to flirt with girls, or play billard. Others sat together around a table to enjoy the company.
And then the bet started. Because they were fucking drunk. Not the gentle buzz, but downright shitfaced.
Gob was laughing so hard he almost toppled over in his chair. He also drank from Follo’s glass, or did Follo drank from his? Who cared in a night like this?
However. Across the table Gris sat with his glass gripped tightly in his hand. Blue eyes clouded and concerned as the chaos became even more chaotic. He had an unpleasant feeling.
And then there was you. Okay, you had gone home hours ago, because you were worried about the kids being alone at the headquarters. You only had joined a few weeks ago and you were… well, different. Quieter than the others and soft spoken. The kind of person who apologized when someone bumped into you. A few days ago you had been startled when Enjin and Gob roughhoused in the hallway, afraid the two friends fought.
To say it bluntly, you were a fragile, cute thing caught in a meat grinder. Shy. And yet most of the cleaners liked you.
Enjin definitely had been watching you. He wasn’t interested romantically, but you were entirely different from the other women in the cleaners. Now it’d be unfair to say you didn’t belong - after all you were a giver.
So when Gob laughed that wet, rattling sound that promised mischief no one was surprised what he said next. He nudged Enjin with his elbow and leaned close, “Bet ya couldn’t make her fall for ya.”
The table erupted into slurred jeers and banging cups. Enjin snorted amused and leaned back with that cocky smirk.
“Please,” Enjin scoffed.
“Nah, ya couldn’t,” Gob egged him on. “She’s too pure for a bastard like ya.”
“I absolutely could.”
“Not a fuckin’ chance,” Gob threw all the money he owned on the table. “All this that she zeroes ya out.”
Enjin’s eyes gleamed with stupid, drunken pride. The money didn’t really matter, neither did the bet. It was a stupid, meaningless dare born of too many drinks and a desperate need to feel invincible in a world that chewed them up daily. It was the sort of ugly, thoughtless thing nobody would even remember by next week.
Except Gris. Gris remembered the exact moment Enjin nodded, slapping his hand down on the table to seal the deal. Because something in Gris’ stomach sank like a stone.
He knew you better than any of them. He knew how easily your heart bruised. Even more he knew Enjin and the reckless wake of destruction he could leave behind. Gris knew neither of you deserved what was about to happen.
But by then it was already too late. The bet was made. The drunken laughs roared on, drowning out the quiet dread in the bar.
… and Enjin walked straight into the worst mistake of his life.
At first it was easy. So painfully, sickeningly easy.
All Enjin had to do was turn on the charm he normally reserved for the women at the bar. Or to get out of a bad fight. He’d linger around you and flashed that crooked smile.
With a smug satisfaction he watched you tumble over your words. Warm face and soft giggles. So fucking easy.
You looked at him like he hung the moon.
When he talked you listened to every stupid story he told. Even when most of them weren’t funny at all you giggled into your hand, like he was the coolest man alive.
It should feel like winning. His victory. Instead, after a few weeks, the taste began to sour.
Enjin found himself laying awake at night, thinking about you. The bet. You. The sound of your laughter. The crinkle of your eyes when you smiled up at him, completely unguarded.
He thought about how you made sure that his glass was always full and you got the better piece of meat for him. You mama’ed him in the sweetest way possible without being too much.
He started looking for you. That was the first bad sign, the first fracture in his armor and that should’ve told him he needed to stop.
He’d enter the common room and immediately look if you were there too. If you weren’t he’d feel irritated, because where the fuck were you without him? But if you were his mood improved and he felt all warm on the inside.
“Pathetic,” he hissed at himself as he grabbed the umbreaker tightly. “Absolutely pathetic.”
He knew it. Unfortunately that didn’t stop him at all.
And you trusted him so much. You devoted yourself to him completely.
One evening, after a brutal mission that left everyone’s nerves frayed, he found you sitting alone on the edge of the roof. The smog filled sky in the background made you look small. Shoulders slumped in exhaustion.
When he sat down beside you quietly you didn’t startled. Instead you leaned your head against his shoulder and sighed softly. His anchor - the man you needed the most now.
Enjin’s breath caught. His heart stopped before it slammed wildly against his chest.
“Long day?” he asked roughly.
“The longest,” you laughed tiredly.
The sound wrapped around his heart and squeezed it so tightly until it hurt to breathe. The memory of the bet filled his mind and his throat with bitter bile.
Disgusting. He was disgusting.
This wasn’t a game anymore. You weren’t some challenge, not a prize to be won. You were… fuck, you were everything.
“C’mere,” he choked out and hugged you tightly.
Somewhere along the line of the past six weeks he hadn’t just lost the bet. He had fallen so hard and deep that it physically ached.
Soon after your first kissed happened. He forgot about everything. This wasn’t planned, no calculated strategy. This was just you and the softness you brought into his world.
You gave him a big piece of your heart that he had no right to hold. He was so fucked.
He leaned down to steal another kiss from you and it was so real for him.
By then he would’ve gladly burned the entire world down, would tear into anyone with his bare hands if it meant to keep you safe and keep you his.
Weeks passed then, bleed into months as your relationship developed so naturally, beautifully.
The others found out one by one. Spread by gossip that Enjin had won your heart and you were a thing now.
Gob stopped making jokes, shifting uncomfortably in his seat whenever you walked into the room, his loud mouth suddenly snapping shut. Follo looked actively guilty, staring at his boots or finding a sudden excuse to leave whenever you offered him a smile. Even Gris, usually the anchor of the group, started avoiding your eye contact entirely, his gaze sliding away.
Because none of this was funny anymore.
Not when everyone could see the way Enjin looked at you. You had become the air in his lungs and on some days the sole reason to pull himself out of bed. And you loved him back just as fiercely.
The joke had turned into a loaded gun and it was pointed right at your chest.
Gris lasted long and he’d be the one pulling the trigger. Because he had carried the secret like a stone sitting in his throat. Guilt is a cruel thing and one afternoon Gris broke.
You found him on the training ground. You weren’t even looking for answers, because for you there hadn’t been questions to be asked. Carrying a small pastry you had been looking for your man actually.
“Gris, what’s wrong?” you frowned as Gris stared at the pastry with pure pain.
“How much has he told you?” Gris asked quietly.
“What do you mean?”
His blue eyes met yours and your stomach dropped violently. Pity. It was the sickening pity in his eyes that made you almost drop the pastry.
“Gris?” you asked nervously.
Everything felt wrong. Your heartbeat quickened, a frantic drum.
Gris looked physically sick. He swallowed hard, his voice cracking. “I can’t keep lying to you. None of us can.”
Afterward you couldn't remember much of the conversation. Only pieces. Jagged, razor sharp fragments of words that sliced through your mind, drawing blood.
A drunken bet. Make her fall for you. Easy. Laughter. Money.
The entire relationship you had built over the last few months - every soft kiss, the warmth of his body when you become one, every shared secret - was reduced to a punchline. To cheap entertainment for a table of drunk cleaners.
You remembered staring at Gris while your chest felt like it was collapsing. Exploding under an unimaginable weight.
“No,” you whispered. Then pleaded. “No no no.”
Over and over, because… not your Enjin. Not the man that cuddled you every night to sleep. Not the man that kissed you like he was starving each time. Not the man that knew your deepest fears and promised to protect you from them.
Please. Please, not him.
Enjin found you in a random hallway in the headquarters an hour later. Pressed against the wall your knees pulled up to your chest. You were crying. A suffocating weeping that shook your entire body.
He knew immediately.
The moment his eyes landed on your face, the moment he saw the pure horror and heartbreak swimming in your tear streaked face, something inside Enjin shattered into a million pieces.
The world tilted violently on its axis.
“Who told you?” he whispered trembling.
He took a frantic step forward and reached out for you. You flinched away. A horrible, broken laughter bubbled from your throat.
It didn’t sound like you at all.
“You did,” you choked out. “Every single day you did.”
His blood ran cold. A freezing numbness washed over him and his heart and soul.
Still you listened to him. Sitting there on the cold floor you listened while he fell to his knees in front of you. You listened while he explained - his voice desperate, cracking on each word with agonizing panic.
You listened while he begged, while he gripped at his own hair, while he swore on his life that it wasn't like that anymore.
He told you he loved you. He told you you were his entire world, his everything. Tears streamed down his own face, spilling over his cheeks as he humiliated himself, pleading for you to understand.
You listened to every agonizing word.
That made it so much worse, because you believed him. Men like Enjin didn’t break down like this. They didn’t cry, beg and carry the truth in golden eyes.
You knew he loved you with every fiber of his being. That he was dying on the inside now.
That wasn’t the problem. The problem was that the foundation of everything you had built together was completely rotten.
The first time he had looked at you with that beautiful smile it was because of a bet. He held your hand, because it was a tactic.
Every beautiful memory you both shared had a deep ugly crack now.
You could never look back at the beginning of your love without seeing Gob’s stupid, laughing face. You could never remember your first kiss without hearing the clinking of glasses and the smell of cheap Bourbon.
Trust, that had been shattered, didn’t magically heal just because the person who broke it is sorry.
When you finally stood up your legs were shaking. Without a word you walked down the dark hallway. Enjin didn’t follow you.
It wasn’t meant to be a noble gesture, but the look in your eyes terrified him. Dead. Hollowed out. Destroyed.
He had done that to you. He had taken the only pure and beautiful thing in his life and had broken it for a joke.
Not Gob. Not Follo or Gris. Him.
The following weeks were hell for both of you.
Of course you stayed with the cleaners, but you moved through the headquarters like a ghost. Also you had transferred teams and were now a part of team child. Being around the kids who tried cheering you up with doodling sessions and an unholy amount of sweets helped.
Yet, you cried yourself to sleep in your room that didn’t smell like him anymore. Wondering how something that had felt so beautiful could turn into something so cruel that it made you wish your heart would stop beating entirely.
And Enjin... Enjin wandered through his days like a corpse that had forgotten to lie down.
The loudest, most arrogant cleaner in the crew became a hollow shell. The most energetic, reckless fighter became perpetually exhausted, his eyes sunken and rimmed with red, his movements sluggish. The others barely recognized him. He didn't yell, didn't brag, didn’t joke around.
He barely spoke at all, because the woman he loved wasn’t beside him anymore.
Because every single corner of the headquarters reminded him of you. Every stairwell, every flickering light, every dinner. Even the smell of booze reminded him of the horrific night that had ruined his entire life.
One evening Gris found him. Enjin was sitting alone on the edge of the rusted rooftop. He looked entirely broken, his elbows resting on his knees, staring blankly at the ground below. A broken man who had lost everything.
“Do you hate me?” Gris asked quietly.
A hollow laugh filled the air. Enjin didn’t even bother looking up. He just shook the head. “No.”
The silence between them became suffocating. Slowly Enjin lowered his head into his hands and started pulling on his hair. He couldn’t even cry anymore.
“I hate myself enough for both of us.”
That was the absolute worst part of the wreckage.
It wasn't just that he had lost you. It wasn't just that the relationship had ended in a traumatic event of tears. It wasn't even the crippling, agonizing loneliness that choked him every single night.
It was the horrific knowledge that he had finally found you. He had found the love of his life. The one person who truly saw him, who made him want to be a better man, the woman he would’ve chosen every time in every lifetime.
He would’ve spent forever with you.
And he was the one who destroyed it with a stupid, drunken bet. A few careless, arrogant words. One horrible, thoughtless decision.
The only thing he had left of you were the agonizing memories. Memories of your shy smile and your soft kisses and your warm hand perfectly fitting into his.
All the beautiful things that used to belong to his future, and now belonged only to his past.
Who initiated what in your relationship? Gachiakuta relationship headcannons, Enjin, Zanka, Gris and Follo, fluff with a bit of suggestive themes. Might make a part 2 just lmk
Enjin
Talking stage: You, he didn't know he wanted a relationship at the time of talking to each other
Relationship: Him, he overheard you being insecure about him possibly not wanting to date you so he put an stop to the stalling and asked you to be with him.
First kiss: Him, you almost died on a mission and he got upset at your recklessness. He kissed you to ground himself from thinking that he could've lost you.
First act of intimacy: You, you missed him after a long mission and immediately pounced on him when he got back home. It wasn't perfect. It was raw, messy and unfiltered. Just like his love for you. You fell first but he definitely fell harder.
Zanka
Talking stage: Both of you?, you got put in the same team so you naturally started seaking each other out due to your proximity and because you never judged him.
Relationship: You, He was in denial of his feelings for you and didn't confess to save himself from any embarrassment. He very happily accepted your feelings though and was excited that you liked him but shhhhh.
First kiss: Him, Riyo said that it was strange that he doesn't kiss his girlfriend, he got flustered and told her that it wasn't her business. It did hurt his ego so he kissed you to prove a point. Yes it was to prove a point but he's been wanting to do it and now had a reason to show off that he has a girlfriend who is NOT a staff.
Gris
Talking stage: Him, he saw you by yourself and decided to talk to you because he wants to know all of his coworkers. To him the cleaners are family so it makes sense for a family to know each other.
Relationship: You, you had a fat crush on him and made him a meal to declare your love for him. Originally he was going to ask you but you beat him to it.
First kiss: Him, he kissed you immediately when you showed him the meal you made him. This happened right after you asked him to be your man. Oh how much he loves that title. "My man" makes him hard just thinking about it.
First act of intimacy: Him, he wanted to make love to you because of how much he loves every part of you so he made the first move. Also because he hard you yelling at some random dude that was talking shit about the supporters something about hearing "Well I'll have you know my man is a supporter and 10x better than you'll ever be you bum!"
Follo
Talking stage: Him, Gris said that he should make more friends and pointed you out to him because of how nice you were to everyone around you.
Relationship: You, you thought he was really cute and sweet. You caught feelings because of how attentive he was. And he was just soooo cuteeee you just wanted to squish his little face.
First kiss: Him, he asked you for permission before actually doing it. Eversince then you pepper little kisses all over his face.
First act of intimacy: You, he didn't want to scare you off and think that he only wanted you for your body so he waited until the time was right or until you showed interest in it.
(Hihi, its 3:02 am and this is not proof read because my eyes aren't working right now. Im working on relationship headcannons for Follo and August so look out for those. Im going to bed. Let me know if there's any spelling errors and have a good day👋🤓)
Not a request, but I was curious of your opinion of this scenario in BMW.
Would Sun wukong as an empty shell would recognize reader ? (Like instinctively recognize her)
Imagine Zhu bajie and the reader watched DO beat the monkey king's empty shell as he was defeated, he turn his head to reader who thought it was his beloved queen but reader was a reincarnation of his lover just like DO, I wonder how he reacts towards the reincarnated reader?
{Minor BMW Spoiler Warning}
Oh it would be soooo poetically tragic. On the one hand, he gets to see his queen one last time and know she was also reincarnated. But the bittersweet side is she's not his mate anymore. Might try to reach out to her but with her past memories lost and his appearance being so ghoulish, it would break his heart to see her frightened of him 💔
At least he can finally rest after the battle knowing she and his reincarnation will be happy together in a new life 😭
Also love the idea of them being able to find each other in every lifetime, true soulmates 🧡
꒰ ʀɪᴅᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅɪᴇ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ enjin is your best friend… until one day you’ve a date.
enjin had once punched a man for you before he even knew your name - that was the kind of friendship the two of you had.
despite you being a woman there was nothing sweet about. he didn’t treat you like some delicate flower, or some damsel in distress.
you were his best friend, and the two of you were loud wherever you went. violent sometimes too.
the kind of best friends that shoved each other into walls while laughing. the kind that stole food off each other’s plates with zero hesitation. the kind that survived the pit together and came out of it meaner, rougher, inseparable.
everyone in the cleaners knew it too.
“those two are freaks,” riyo once muttered after watching you and enjin wrestle over the last fried dumpling until both of you ended up crashing through a chair.
you had your arm around enjin’s neck, trying to choke him out while he barked laughter loud enough to shake the room.
“tap out then,” you grunted.
“eat shit.”
“you first.”
“you literally bite people when you lose,” he accused and… yeah.
“only you.”
enjin looked the fucking happiest when he was with you. a bit like a golden retriever getting snacks.
freer too, like the weight on his shoulders stopped crushing him for a little while, and the umbrella didn’t feel so heavy.
the thing was that you two spent almost every second together once the missions were over. if one disappeared, everyone automatically assumed the other one was nearby.
even when you fought (you did that a lot), and you were mad at each other you still were attached by the hip. back to back, spitting insults over the shoulders like some damn five years olds.
you sat on rooftops together drinking cheap liquor straight from the bottle. you patched each other’s wounds without gentleness. you stole cigarettes from each other’s mouths. shared meals. shared blankets. shared silence.
one night, after a mission nearly went wrong, enjin showed up at your room bleeding through his side. you opened the door, took one look at him, and sighed.
“you’re getting blood on my floor again.”
“missed you too.”
then he nearly collapsed forward. you caught him with a curse, dragging his heavy body inside while he laughed weakly into your shoulder.
“you’re huge,” you complained.
“you love it.”
“i’m about to leave you outside for garbage collection, fatass.”
“wouldn’t be your first crime.”
you stitched him up sitting on the bathroom sink while he hissed through clenched teeth. that old drama queen.
“hold still.”
“you’re sewing me like an ugly sweater.”
“that’s because you move like an ugly sweater.”
“mean.”
“you’ll live.”
“that’s all you got to say after i almost died?”
you snorted. “if you died, i’d kill you myself.”
enjin smiled, because that sentence meant more coming from you than anyone else.
you stayed awake with him afterward, both of you sitting on the floor with your backs against the bed. his shoulder pressed against yours while rain hammered outside.
rain was bad anyway. rain also meant sleepless nights
at some point he handed you the bottle.
at some point his head dropped onto your lap.
at some point you fell asleep too.
that was normal. everything with you was normal, even the disgusting parts.
… especially the disgusting parts.
“you drool like a damn animal,” enjin groaned one morning.
you blinked awake against his chest. “huh?”
“my shirt’s soaked.”
“you snore into my ear like a dying engine.”
“you elbowed me in your sleep.”
“you deserved it somehow.”
“see? evil.”
“still sleeping here tonight?”
“obviously.”
you were tangled together on his mattress like survivors after war. your leg thrown over his waist. his arm numb underneath your body. neither of you moved away.
nobody from the cleaners understood it.
semiu once stared at the two of you sharing a cigarette outside headquarters and finally asked, “so are you together or what?”
you and enjin looked at each other, then burst into laughter. the one where tears appeared in your eyes and you grunted so cutely.
“you hear this shit?” he wheezed.
“she thinks we’re romantic,” you gasped.
“that’s insulting.”
“actually offensive.”
semiu looked irritated. “you sleep in the same bed.”
“yeah.”
“you hold hands sometimes.”
“that’s tactical.”
“you literally kissed his forehead yesterday.”
you blinked and enjin blinked too. alright, that creeped semiu out.
“had a fever.”
“thank you,” you added immediately.
semiu walked away muttering curses under her breath. then went straight to gossip it what she witnessed to gris. he was just as confused as the rest.
meanwhile neither of you thought about it again, because this thing between you had become its own creature years ago.
it was too wild to label and too familiar to question.
enjin knew how many scars you had without looking. you knew every single expression hidden underneath his mask.
he knew when your smile was fake. you knew when his anger came from fear instead.
there were nights he couldn’t sleep unless he heard you breathing nearby. there were missions where you only survived because his voice screamed your name fast enough.
you trusted each other with the real ugly things. the nightmares of his past and your rage that you couldn’t protect him back then.
one particularly horrible night, after losing people during cleanup, enjin came back drunk enough to stumble. you found him sitting outside headquarters alone in the rain.
in the fucking rain. enjin, your best friend, the man who hated rain more than anything, sat in the rain. his umbreaker unopened.
that scared you shitless.
but you sat next to him and if you’d sit here the whole night you wouldn’t mind. he looked so exhausted and everything hurt in you.
“hey.” you nudged your shoulder against his.
nothing.
“enjin.”
his voice came rough. “you ever get tired?”
“all the time,” you whispered.
“no.” he swallowed. “tired of surviving.”
the rain soaked both of you. you could’ve answered honestly and said yes. because sometimes you did, even when you’d never leave him behind.
“well,” you muttered, “kinda hard to die when i still owe you money.”
a laugh broke out of him suddenly. it sounded so ugly, so raw and real. you hated it as much as you loved it.
“you’re so stupid.”
“ride or die, remember?”
that made him finally look at you and there was that dangerous quietness in his eyes again. he loved you in a language neither of you had learned yet.
before any of you could dwell on it he reached over and shoved your face. in return you smacked the strand of hair that somehow stuck out at the top of his head.
“you’re still buying me food tomorrow.”
okay. now you had to shove him. all bets are off. “go to hell.”
“only if you come too.”
“hah! you thought i’d let you go alone? nope. we’re in this together.”
and maybe that was the problem, because shit was about to hit the fan.
let’s start from the beginning, alright?
two weeks after that rainy night you met someone. wasn’t love at first sight, you weren’t silly like that. but despite you wearing one of enjin’s old shirts and haven’t washed your hair in three days this man flirted with you.
so yeah. enjin was about to become a hater, because he fucking hated to hear your date’s name.
… okay, that was dramatic. it mildly annoyed him. irritated. yes. he was deeply, irrationally irritated.
“his name’s haru,” you corrected while pulling boots on near the headquarters entrance. “not hiro.”
“whatever.”
“you’ve called him four different names.”
“because i don’t care enough to remember.”
you snorted. “you’re acting like he murdered your family.”
enjin leaned against the wall with crossed arms. “i just think anyone who slicks their hair back that much is hiding something.”
“he’s literally a mechanic.”
“exactly. suspicious profession.”
“that makes no sense.”
“it makes perfect sense.”
the truth was: enjin had known about the date for three days and had been in a terrible mood ever since.
the others didn’t notice a change or they did. who the fuck knows. important was that enjin became a mopey motherfucker.
he got rougher during sparring. smoked more cigarettes. snapped faster at people. slept less. didn’t sleep in your bed anymore.
apparently you also weren’t the brightest candle on the cake, because you kept mentioning the date’s name. and every time you mentioned the date, something ugly twisted in his chest. something real ugly roared in there and wanted out.
it made him feel insane, because this was you - his best friend and ride or die.
of course you’d date eventually. of course you’d meet people. hell, he whored around like he got paid for it and you never complained.
why did you never complain? except when he smelled like cheap perfume and pussy juices. huh????
anyway.
why did it suddenly feel like standing at the edge of something collapsing?
why did he keep imagining another man in your room?
another man making you laugh. another man touching you.
enjin hated it so much his jaw hurt from grinding his teeth. he might actually threw up on you anytime soon. would be only fair since you liked to throw up on his boots when you had a drink too much.
even steven.
“you think this shirt works?” you asked suddenly.
he looked up and immediately regretted it. you wore one of those tighter tops that showed the shape of your body without trying too hard. casual. pretty. effortless in a way that punched the air out of him unexpectedly.
his stomach dropped. fuck you.
“why’re you staring?” you asked.
“i’m not.”
“you absolutely are.”
“ugly shirt.”
“you’re jealous because i look good.”
“you look like you’re about to scam someone.”
you laughed so hard you snorted like a pig. fuck, that laugh. he loved that laugh.
then he looked away. enjin didn’t look away. never. that wasn’t his thing. you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
“you sick or something?”
“sick of you,” he replied.
“ooooha,” you gasped. “you’ve been weird all week.”
“i’m always weird.”
“not like this.”
you stepped closer, squinting at him while grabbing his jaw roughly between your fingers. normally enjin would’ve shoved you away instantly and then you’d roughhouse on the floor until some clothing tore. or someone bled.
instead he froze weirdly and since you found him so weird you put your hand on his forehead.
“you got a fever?”
there it was again - that awful tight feeling in his chest. enjin slapped your hand away harder than intended.
“i’m fine.”
okay. nothing was fine and you hated these moments where you couldn’t read him.
“you sure?”
the concern in your voice nearly killed him. so he did what he always did when emotions got too close - he grinned.
rewind. REWIND.
you actually hated this mean, ugly, crooked grin he showed now. it was fake, but you knew pushing him now would only lead to bad things.
it happened once and you hadn’t talked to him for a week.
“worried about me, sweetheart?”
you hid the cringe. you weren’t sweetheart or any other dumb nickname. he called you mostly by your name or a shortened version of it. but no. nope.
“there he is,” you sighed dramatically. “thought someone kidnapped you.”
“please. i’d escape.”
“your personality alone would make them return you.”
“true.”
the weirdness passed or pretended to, until later that night. because apparently you still didn’t understand. you dumb little thing.
enjin sat in your room sprawled across your bed while you dug through clothes, muttering angrily to yourself.
“you own too much garbage,” he commented.
“says the man wearing the same coat for six years.”
“it’s sentimental.”
“it smells like smoke and bad decisions.”
“which is sentimental.”
you threw a shirt at his face and he caught it lazily. he was about to throw it at your head when you suddenly sat next to him.
“enjin.”
“hm?”
“i need a favor.”
“depends.”
you looked strangely serious now and that immediately made him nervous. sure, you had your serious moments, but that was a strange one. what the hell?
“what favor?”
you hesitated. your mouth opened, then closed, then opened. you might had a stroke.
“teach me how to kiss,” you blurted out suddenly.
silence.
enjin stared at you like you had lost the plot completely. then he full on belly laughed. “ain’t no way.”
“i’m serious.”
“you’re asking me?”
“yes.”
“why?”
“because i trust you.”
the laughter died instantly. you looked genuinely embarrassed now, rubbing the back of your neck.
“i just…” you muttered. “i don’t wanna look stupid tomorrow.”
tomorrow. the date. something hot and ugly flared in enjin’s chest again.
“you’ve never kissed anyone?” he asked.
“not properly.”
“huh.”
the manwhore and the virgin - a match made in heaven. or hell.
you shoved his shoulder. “don’t make it weird.”
“i’m trying not to.”
“please?”
enjin rubbed a hand down his face. “this is a terrible idea.”
“why?”
see? the lights were on, but nobody was home.
and because he already felt like tearing apart a man he’d never met. your lips was all he’d been thinking about for three days straight and if… if he kissed you once he wasn’t sure he’d stop.
instead he groaned, “you’re unbelievable.”
he grabbed your chin suddenly and you gasped softly. the sound alone almost was his undoing.
“relax,” he murmured automatically.
you looked at him with wide eyes, trusting. you trusted him so much. fuck fuck fuck.
he leaned forward slowly, giving you the chance to pull back. a part of him begged you’d do so.
now it was supposed to be quick. a stupid little peck to show how to angle the face and that your noses should never bump.
that was okay for friends helping each other, right?
oh boy.
his lips brushed yours softly, warm. then he pulled back already and it should be over.
the room went dead silent.
enjin could hear your breathing. could you hear his heart in return?
“that’s it?” you whispered.
his eyes flicked down to your mouth again as he swallowed hard. “yeah.”
“oh.”
something about your disappointed little sound snapped the last thread of his self-control. you were about to learn.
enjin kissed you harder this time. your startled inhale went straight into his mouth.
suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore.
his hand tightened against your jaw while your fingers grabbed his shirt instantly. you kissed him back without hesitation.
fuck, you were so messy and clumsy kissing him. went straight to his groin too.
years of affection buried underneath bruises and laughter and late nights came crashing out all at once.
enjin pushed you backward onto the mattress without even thinking. you made a soft noise against his mouth that nearly ruined him. his body pressed over yours automatically, one hand beside your head while the other gripped your waist tight enough to leave marks.
the kiss deepened and became so fucking hungry as he devoured your mouth. licked and bit and spit and everything in between.
he lost it all together when your fingers slid into his hair and enjin actually groaned roughly.
he’d been starving for your lips.
when he finally pulled away both of you were breathing hard. your lips swollen and his forehead pressed against yours.
he was so goddamn hard that one more kiss and he’d come untouched. and shit. is that your pussy he smelled? fuck. it was, wasn’t it?
then you whispered weakly, “i think you’re a really good teacher.”
enjin stared at you for one long second before he laughed breathlessly against your mouth. then his lips found yours again.
oh fucking hell.
it was over before it really started and you both could talk about it. or at least sort out your feelings for yourselves.
remember the date? yeah, it was still happening.
enjin actually hated it even more now.
look at you wearing perfume, making you smell all womanly and sweetly. and that you were nervous and stared like a lost puppy.
he hated the fact you spent twenty whole minutes asking him which earrings looked better like he was some kind of relationship expert. oh, and he especially hated the fact another man was about to touch you after that kiss.
that fucking kiss.
enjin had barely slept that night. every time he closed his eyes, he felt your mouth against his again. your hands in his hair. the tiny sound you made when he pinned you against the mattress. it replayed over and over until he thought he might genuinely lose his mind.
he actually had cummed so often that night that his dick was raw now. thank you very fucking much.
and you still went on the damn date, like you hadn’t shattered his entire universe the night before.
“relax your face,” you complained before leaving. “you look homicidal.”
“i’m homicidal.”
“you’re being dramatic.”
“you kissed me and now you’re leaving with another man.”
the sentence slipped out before he could stop it. you stopped in the doorway and enjin hated having a tongue. or vocal cords.
at least you had the dignity to blush. “i’ll be back later.”
the door shut. you really had left. holy shit.
enjin stared at the door for five whole seconds, then immediately punched the wall.
“fuck.”
gris found him thirty minutes later outside headquarters smoking aggressively enough to probably shorten his lifespan. if a heart attack wouldn’t get him first.
“you look horrible,” gris observed. chill as ever. fuck him too.
“go away.”
“ouch.”
enjin glared at nothing, because his thoughts were unbearable.
were you holding hands with that guy right now?
were you laughing?
was he touching your waist?
was he kissing you?
enjin’s stomach twisted violently. the cigarette snapped between his fingers.
“damn,” gris said. “you’re gone gone.”
“shut up.”
“you finally realized you’re in love with her?”
enjin shot him a murderous look. how dare he to speak that out loud.
gris raised both hands immediately. “okay. touchy subject.”
love. the word echoed unpleasantly in his head, because maybe that was the problem.
maybe this thing had stopped being friendship a long time ago and neither of you noticed because it had always been too messy to define.
enjin had loved you every single time he chose your side without hesitation. every time he slept easier hearing your breathing nearby. every time he thought: if she dies, i’ll burn this world down with her.
he’d been doomed for years.
“you know,” gris continued, “if she kissed you and still went on the date, she’s probably freaking out too.”
“not helping.”
“you look like you wanna hit someone.”
“i do.”
“her date?”
“yes.”
“see? love.”
enjin flipped him off. he actually considered lunging at him for shits and giggles. you know getting it out of the system, but then—
BANG.
the headquarters door slammed open so hard both men jumped. you stormed inside looking absolutely wrecked. your eyes were swollen red and your mascara was smeared.
for a split second enjin thought that man had done something to him and today he’d soak his entire soul in blood. and he’d laugh doing it.
at least until you marched straight toward him and started hitting him. you actually beat the ever loving shit out of his chest and shoulders.
“ow! hey!”
“you absolute asshole!” you screamed.
“what the hell happened?!”
“you ruined me!”
enjin grabbed your wrists before you could swing at his nose. he liked that one. still, you were crying so hard you could barely breathe.
gris wisely disappeared immediately.
“what happened?” enjin asked again, completely baffled.
“you!”
“me?”
“yes, you!”
your face crumpled even harder and then you shoved against his chest with a broken sound.
“you made me fall in love with my best friend!”
enjin stared at you, blinking. his entire brain genuinely stopped working. shut down. shut down.
“what?”
you looked furious that he didn’t immediately understand. you kicked his shin.
“with you, idiot!” you sobbed. “i’m in love with you!”
enjin’s mouth opened, but nothing to hear. you kept crying.
“i went there and he was nice and sweet and normal and then he tried to hold my hand and all i could think was that it wasn’t yours—”
his heart nearly exploded. it was happening. it was really happening. this wasn’t a drill.
“and then he kissed me and i hated it because he wasn’t you and now everything’s ruined—”
something hysterical bubbled up in enjin’s chest suddenly - a laugh.
he tried to stop it and failed horribly. you stared at him in betrayal while tears streamed down your face.
“are you laughing?!”
enjin bent forward wheezing. no, he wasn’t laughing about you. it was the relief that hit him so hard he thought he might collapse.
“you’re unbelievable,” he gasped.
“i’m having a crisis!”
“you’re in love with me?”
“stop sounding so happy about it!”
that only made him laugh harder. everything broke inside you and your expression fell completely.
“oh my—,” you whispered miserably. “you don’t feel the same.”
that wiped the laughter off his face instantly. no, no, no. you misunderstood and he needed to make you understand.
he grabbed your cheeks so fast you startled.
“hey,” he said firmly and your wet eyes lifted to his. “i’ve been in love with you so long i forgot there was supposed to be a before.”
your breath caught and enjin smiled. it was such a soft smile that you pouted, because it was so cute.
“i just didn’t realize you were too.”
you made the most wounded little noise he’d ever heard before crashing into him. enjin caught you automatically. your arms wrapped around his neck while you cried into his shoulder, still hiccuping angry tears.
“you’re so stupid,” you mumbled.
“you punched me.”
“you deserved it.”
“probably.”
he held you tighter, because he’d been waiting to do it properly for years. slowly he tilted your face up and you were so fucking wrecked. eyes swollen and mascara was even at your forehead.
the most beautiful disaster he had ever seen.
“you done crying?” he murmured.
“no.”
“good enough.”
his lips crashed to yours and you sobbed into his mouth. only made him smile like some idiot.
but the hesitation was gone and replaced by certainty as your fingers curled into his coat. and you kissed him back through shaky breaths and leftover tears.
enjin smiled wider against your mouth. when you accidentally laughed mid-kiss because you were still crying too hard, he kissed you again anyway.
your real first kiss. so fucking messy and tender and perfect. enjin won’t forget it until his last breath.
MDNI, characters included: enjin, gris, august, tamsy, jabber (couldn’t think for zodyl and follo I’m sorry)
Enjin:
Enjin chuckles when he notices you crawling up towards the headboard. He crawls over you, gently pulling your legs back around his waist. "Where do you think you're going? We just got started. Don't tell me you run when it starts feeling good...don't worry, I'll keep you still." He pins you down so there's no escape from any overstimulation.
Gris:
Gris takes a second to catch his breath when you suddenly pull back from him. His eyes trail over you, checking for any injuries or signs of exhaustion that he may have missed in the heat of the moment. When he sees you're fine, he teases you, "couldn't handle the heat? Don't worry, I won't burn you. Come here." He pats his lap, changing position. At least this way he can hold your hips down if you try to run again.
August:
August shakes his head, trying to break out of his own daze, "woah wait did something happen?" When you shake your head, and tell him it was just feeling too good, he chuckles and pulls you back down on him hard. "Silly, why're you running away from what's good for you? I'll make sure you take it all just how you like it."
Tamsy:
Tamsy barely notices you trying to run away, his hips chasing yours up the bed giving you no room to escape. "Don't try to run from me, I know you like it." His hand meets your skin in a harsh slap, "Say it. Say you love it."
Jabber:
Jabber laughs, "Don't tell me you're chickening out on me. Come on, the fun just started." He drags you back to him, connecting your bodies before his hips snap back into you're in a hard pace. "That's it, scream for me."
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who’s almost double your age and gets easily overstimulated when you constantly ask for another round. you were curled up in his arms, bare naked after another intense round of sex. you looked up at him with those big, innocent eyes, batting your eyelashes as you asked “one more time?” he groaned internally, already feeling overstimulated from the previous rounds. “sweetheart.. i can’t nut alot anymore like i used to,” he mumbles. but you giggled before roaming your hands around his cock.
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who always notices the little things before you even say anything. one day you casually mention wanting a certain snack you saw online, and somehow it’s already sitting on your desk the next morning with a tiny note beside it. he acts like it’s no big deal too, shrugging when you stare at him in shock. “you looked at it for like ten minutes,” he says simply, like that explains everything.
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who secretly loves hearing you ask him for things. even something small like wanting dessert at midnight makes him grab his keys immediately. he’ll complain the whole drive there too, acting tired and dramatic, but the second you thank him he’s trying not to smile. “yeah, yeah. don’t make it a habit,” he mutters while already handing you your favorite snack.
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who struggles to smoke a cigarette while you ride him. you were riding him reverse cowgirl style, his thick member stretching your tight pussy. as he thrusted his hips up, hitting your cervix just right, he reached for his cigarettes on the nightstand. bringing one to his mouth, he struggled to light it with his free hand, groaning as you continued to bounce on his dick.
you could feel his dick throbbing inside you as he tried to focus on lighting the cigarette. his grip on your hips tightened, pulling you down harder onto his cock. the cigarette finally lit, but he couldn't seem to take a drag without moaning or thrusting upwards. “mmm—baby... slow down..”
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who always makes sure you’re walking on the inside of the sidewalk. who opens doors without thinking. who instinctively places his hand over sharp corners when you lean down near them. it’s all automatic to him at this point, small habits that make you realize just how deeply he cares about you every single day.
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who loves when you’re ovulating because in that way he can breed you. he would pulled your legs up and over his shoulders, changing the angle so he was hitting even deeper. you cried out, feeling him in your womb. he grunted with each thrust, his balls tightening as he thought about filling you with his seed. “gonna breed this pretty pussy...mmm good girl,”
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who calls you pet names more than your actual name at this point. princess when he’s teasing you. sweetheart when he notices you getting shy. baby when he’s tired and just wants to hold you close after a long day. the names slip out so easily from him that hearing your real name almost feels rare.
𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐅! 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 - who eventually gets you pregnant and would non-stop spoil you and your baby together. because mine months later, you gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. he had his enjin's eyes and your smile. enjin was overjoyed, treating both you and the baby like precious gems. he spoiled you both non-stop, buying you everything you wanted and showing affection towards your son endlessly.
A/n: so originally this was supposed to be enjin yearning headcannons but I went wayyyyy too in depth and decided to do that in a different way so here take this it took me like 6 hours. Yearning headcannons coming soon tho.
FOLLO MENTION LETS GOOO 🗣️
Warnings!!: talks of being turned on and injuries
He is in so much denial at first it’s insane.
I like to think he’s a quiet observer for a while when liking someone.
When he first met you, he didn’t think much of it. A new cleaner to help out is nice and should make his job easier. Or so he thought.
As the leader of Akuta, he has to gauge the new people. See how they fit in with the others, how they fight, take notes for training.
So he starts watching you.
For the first month or so he’s lighthearted with it. He takes note of the way you speak to others. Notices how your body language changes depending on who it is, and wonders why.
He looks from a distance again while you fight off trash beasts and makes sure to look at how you handle your weapon, help others and take damage.
Three months have passed. He’s got the info he needs so why can’t he stop watching you? He went from strategic planning to suddenly studying like he had a test coming up. It’s no longer to see your skills though.
Most of the team is at HQ, you included. Out of the excitement of a job well done, you and the girls are dancing in celebration. Enjin however, can’t pry his eyes away from every curve of your body. He stares while one of them runs her hands around your hips and he imagines being in her place instead. He tells himself that he needs to cool off and tries to shake the thought from his head. He’s driving himself crazy by thinking of feeling you up. “I’m doing too much.” He thinks. “I’ve gotta chill.”
But then it happens again.
A few weeks later, he’s at the bar in conversation with Gris, drink in hand and not listening to a goddamn word he’s saying. He’s too focused on you and your own conversation with Follo from across the bar. He’s fixated on the way your mouth moves with each word. The way your lips move so smoothly as you speak does something to him and he’s caught thinking about how soft they look. He thinks hes out of control when he sees you get up to go to the restroom and imagines cornering you in the hallway, using his umbreaker to tilt your head toward his and then leaning in to test for himself just how soft those lips really are.
He’s stressed by these thoughts of you.
A smoke break was needed. He takes a long drag thinking it all over. So what if he's physically attracted to you? That’s all it is. Hormones. Getting into something with a coworker isn’t a good idea. Feelings get involved and it gets too complicated. It’s a selfish desire that needs to be nipped in the bud. He lets it go.
It takes two things to finally crack him.
The first one happens the next week. Enjin decided to take a step back. He’d do normal combat training with you and think of you -normally-
It goes smoothly at first but of course one thing leads to another and you end up on top of him. He tripped you, not entirely on purpose, but you fall forward. He’s quick to catch you and throw his arms around your body. He’s looking down at you with that devious smile. You’ve got a disgruntled look on your face, obviously a little mad at him, but he likes it. “They’re so goddamn cute” he thinks “it’s killin me” He feels so much adoration surging through him in this moment, and he wants to feel it again, but quickly lets go and ends the training.
The second instance. Team Akuta is on a mission and gets blindsided by an ambush.
A supporter is hit and flies through the air, hitting the wall behind. They’re not moving. There’s blood everywhere. You rush to them to help, taking care of them as best you could. The second you see they’re breathing, you stand up and everyone swears they felt the air shift. Your eyes were filled with tears but you were so angry you took out the entire team by yourself. Most people wouldn’t care too much. “They’re just supporters” they say. But not to you. And not to him. Seeing how much you cared moved something in him. He pulled you into him and gave the tightest hug he could. “Everything’s gonna be okay alright? Don’t you worry about them.”
What he felt in that moment wasn’t just a physical attraction. It was something deep and emotional. He loved how caring you are. It struck him deeply.
But it also turned him on. He liked seeing you angry at him before, but this is a different level.
After seeing you so angry and finding it sooo hot Enjin cooks up an idea.
Now he wouldn’t admit it if you call him out for it…but sometimes he riles you up just to get a reaction from you and more innocently.. coax a hug out of you.
When things are lighter he’ll try catch you after a heated argument with someone or a tough fight sneak in a side hug, but it’s not enough. He wants to feel your chest on his again like those two days before.
He decided that if he can pick on you just a littttleee extra one day..it gives him an excuse to see your hot kissed off face but also find you in your room, apologize and get that sweetly comforting hug out of you.
He takes a break to smoke again and chuckles to himself. “Man… she’s got me good. Guess I just have to accept it.” He shakes his head.
Enjin may have accepted that he likes you now but that doesn’t mean he’s ready to tell you.
He is still trying his best to keep it professional for as long as possible even though he knows you so intimately now. Your favorite food, maybe picks it up every now and then and leaves it on your bed, your favorite color, your favorite music. He knows what makes you tick, and how to talk you down from it and gets comfort in you reaching out for help. You grow closer everyday.
Things stay like this for a few more months until it happens. He knew the day had to come, it just comes with the job. What he didn’t expect was how much it twisted his insides.
Seeing you get hurt so badly on a mission hurts something fierce. He was so overwhelmed with anxiety it kept him up for days. He couldn’t stop replaying the scene in his head, thinking about how he could have lost you. He’s decided it’s finally time to stop running.
you wake up with sun rays beaming through the lone window of your bedroom, your body entangled with your hunk of a boyfriend, enjin. normally, you're always the one up first but this time he is — and with the most petulant pout you've ever seen him put on.
"morning, jinnie." you yawn, planting a soft kiss to the tip of his nose. but he doesn't say anything, just juts out his bottom lip even further. "what's with you this morning?"
he sighs dramatically, like you'd just personally offended him. he snuggles up to closer to you, burying his face right in the middle of your chest. classy. "you didn't do that thing you do last night." he mumbles, staring up at you with puppy eyes. "you know . . . what you do after we have sex."
you ponder on what he'd just said, thinking about what it is he's talking about. then, after a few moments, it clicks. oh . . he's talking about that. he's such a baby!
you begin to move your finger over his inked body, tracing each of his tattoos, your touch so soft and delicate — you swear that you hear him purr the second you start doing so. he nuzzles closer to you, the biggest smile stretched across his features.
"so that's all this was, huh?" you muse, now tracing the lines across his back. "you were in a mood because i didn't do this last night?"
"well it's your fault for spoiling me like this." enjin huffs as he melts into your touch, practically giddy after getting what he'd been wanting for the last few hours!
"would you do this if i had tattoos on my dick too?"
you skip up to him right as he gets back from a mission, he’s worn out, tired, exhausted, and you use this to your advantage. you show him your cute new notepad and your favorite glitter pen, cooing that he just has to sign his name.
he looks at you with heavy eyes, sighing at your dropping smile. “alright sugar.” he grabs the pen and scribbles out his name. “come to bed w’me?” he leans down and presses his lips to yours.
“mhm.” you nod and tug him to the room.
you suck him off so good he falls asleep in ten minutes while you’re wiping off your chin and slipping out of the room. you make your way to the tattoo artist and push your notepad in his hands, pointing at the ‘E’ of enjin’s name and where you want it.
today
it’s been difficult to hide the tattoo from enjin but you wanted to make sure it’s fully healed before you show him because you know he’s not going to leave it, or you, alone. he comes back from another mission, not as grueling this time but he’s got a sour look on his face that softens when he sees you.
“hey sugar.” he lifts you up.
“hi.” you peck his lips. “got something to show you.” your smile widens.
“yeah?” he raises his brow.
“mhm.” you nod and he sets you down. “look.” you pull your skirt down just enough for the ‘E’ on your hip to come into his line of vision.
“you draw that on yourself.” his big hand engulfs your hip.
“no it’s tattoo’d!” you smile up at him and his eyes snap to yours.
“nu-uh.” he rubs his thumb across the skin, feeling how it’s just slightly raised still. “shit.” he whispers. “what’d you do this for?” he looks up at you.
“cause i love you.” your cheeks heat. “and im yours and..” your lower lips wobbles. “do you not like it?” your eyes start to glass over.
“fuck no, i love it.” he turns and faces the other cleaners. “my sugar got my initial on her.” he grins at them.
he parades you around and shows everyone you both pass on the way to your room. once you’re behind the closed door he tosses you back on the bed and tugs your skirt down, taking your panties with it.
“arms up.” he tugs your shirt up and tosses it to the floor. “tattoooin’ my initial on you.” he shakes his head with a lopsided grin. “tryna get knocked up?” he dips down and kisses your jaw.
“want you to take off your clothes too.” you whine tugging on his jacket.
“don’t get so worked up.” he pushes off the bed.
he strips off each layer torturously slow, smirking at each whine that comes from your lips. when he pushes his boxers down you’re up on your knees reaching for his cock before he pushes you back. you land with a huff, ready to pout but he presses his lips to your tattoo so softly.
he peppers small kisses around it and slowly makes his way between your thighs. when he sucks your clit into his mouth, your head hits the pillows and his thumb strokes over the letter. he licks down, pushing his tongue past your seeping entrance and slowly fucks into you, letting his nose nudge your clit over and over.
“jin! i- mmmf!” you tug on his hair. “it’s- it’s too much!”
he pushes your thighs up to your chest and licks back up to your clit. his tongue focuses on your clit, flicking over the sensitive bud until you’re squirming in his arms. you grind against his face when he sucks your clit into his mouth, tugging him closer by his hair.
“i’m- nghh! i’m cumming!” and you soak his face.
he licks you through each wave before pulling back with a wet chin and scoots you further up the bed so your head is resting on the pillows. you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer, whining when his cock slides up your slit and nudges against your clit.
”please!” you buck your hips.
”shh shh shh sugar.” he coos. “i’m right here.” he nods.
enjin reaches down, wrapping his fingers around himself to line up and press his tip into your warm walls. he watches your eyes get a little more distant with each inch he stretches you out until he’s fully settled. he cups your cheeks and leans down to press his lips to yours as he slowly starts to rock into you.
he’s not fucking you tonight, he wants to go slow, remember every moan, every gasp, every whine of his name. his hands press into the bed beside your head, pressing his forehead to yours while he grinds his hips into yours.
”my pretty baby.” he whispers.
your walls flutter around him at his breathless words, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, nails digging into his warm skin. each deep thrust of his hips rocks your body as you cling onto him. with only a few more thrusts your gummy walls are clamping around him already and it doesn’t take him long to follow, filling you with ropes of cum. he stays settled into you, pressing his lips to yours as he grinds his hips into yours.
“you’re all mine, sugar. gonna make sure everyone knows by making you round with my baby.”
will call tickets: pls note that some of these maybe have been misspelled in the form so i can't properly tag you - pls reach out so i can fix that for you bbg: @jqsjournal @ieatworms14 @sstarfae @anabanana-26 @hachikosbow @floatinglav @chibichonga @iamethereal @talkingscaresme @mattchalOtve @rosemarysgardens @blackholesun69420 @emmab3mma @maeveybelle @cupiditee @kajispeaches @whohurtyouxoxo @luvbbb @kirumitojofictionkin @blurplebunny @num1tojidihrider @immortalkyodii @hinatasgfff @imactuallyriah @iluvvdaraa @dontwannabeawakeanymore @worminfestedcorpse @zoswriting @its-not-mixxy @nemonemoz @girlyglues @iuuuugdh @dhyuns @planetsukuna @nin3tailed @sofatodoroki @eminencexcancer @deadrevenge @octashredderz @puurest-izuku @cambriaem @melinana @dollishdollita @lipstainedgemini @mochiiks @addywithnofatty7 @vandellabean
♯┆ have you ever wondered what the Gachiakuta men sound like in bed? -> including: Enjin, Gris, Zanka, Follo
𝜗𝜚˚⋆ cw: mdni! gn!reader, implied smut, deception of dirty talk and moans, mentions of masturbation
reblog to make them moan! ♡
── ⟢ 𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒊𝒏
✧ Enjin is somewhat quiet in bed. Not to an awkward extent, but he's also not moaning much.
✧ He is a yapper though.
✧ That being said, he enjoys to talk you through it, praises you, degrades you a little if you're into it, compliments you about how beautiful you look for him, how well you take him, how good you make him feel.
✧ You're into guided masturbation? Perfect. He loves instructing you and talking you through it.
✧ If he's not busy talking, he is more of a heavy breather, the occasional small moan or grunt slipping if you clench around him and / or if he's sensitive.
✧ When he comes undone, he moans but it's a low, rumbling kinda moan, eyes shut tightly from the pure pleasure running through his veins.
✧ If you wanna make someone jealous, he's not above moaning obnoxiously loud so everyone can hear tho, so be careful what you wish for.
── ⟢ 𝑮𝒓𝒊𝒔
✧ Gris is also relatively quiet in bed, but he's not holding back any sounds, he will most definitely let you hear how good you make him feel.
✧ While he doesn't yap much, he praises a lot or curses under his breath. He will tell you how good you make him feel, but never in a degrading kind of way.
✧ Consent king!! He does ask if it's okay to touch you and what you want.
✧ He absolutely loves to call you pet names if you're fine with that, and he gets a little possessive if you two are in a committed relationship - makes sure you know that you're his special someone by calling you things like my love, my perfect partner, my sweet.
✧ His moans are usually deep, but if he's holding back so you get to release first, they can sound breathy and sometimes a little desperate too.
✧ Shortly before he releases, you can hear him mumble something like "oh fuck" under his breath before a rather strangled moan falls from his lips.
── ⟢ 𝒁𝒂𝒏𝒌𝒂
✧ At first Zanka is awkwardly quiet, too much in his head about how he sounds and looks, making him look rather angry as the awkward silence on his end fills the room.
✧ You can clearly tell that he's holding back because you did hear him whimper softly once in the shower when he took care of his morning wood.
✧ When he's more comfortable with you / after you encouraged him not to hold back he's more vocal.
✧ Not a yapper at all, might whisper things under his breath or curses at how good you make him feel - he's quite literally losing his mind when you please him.
✧ His moans sound so CUTE!!
✧ It's rather small moans but they sound kinda needy and the little gasps whenever you clench around him!! It makes you wanna eat him up.
✧ If you want praise or degradation he needs a while to warm up to it, but he will tell you everything you want to hear and more.
✧ The more comfortable he feels with you, the more vocal he gets. His small moans turn into groans and grunts and he's not scared to moan into your ear when he releases either.
── ⟢ 𝑭𝒐𝒍𝒍𝒐
✧ Follo tries to hold back any noise out of fear you could judge him at first but when it's getting awkward he tests the waters with harsh breaths and mumbled curses.
✧ Once he realized that you clench around him every time he makes a noise - clearly enjoying it - he feels like he can really let go.
✧ His moans are rather sweet, a little high in pitch mixed with small whines and whimpers.
✧ Actually, a lot of whimpers, sometimes followed by a drawn out fuuuck or a sloppy kiss.
✧ He does blush when you please him and he starts whining because it makes him sound desperate and needy - but that's exactly what he is when it comes to you.
✧ Follo is also a yapper! He does it out of nervousness and the need to reassure you somehow. He asks for consent a lot and if you like what he does if he's doing anything new.
✧ Will also occasionally praise you, but most of the time he whispers small thank you's when you make him feel oh so good.
✧ When he releases all you can hear is a little "Ngh" before a whiny sigh escapes his lips.
── ❨ ⸝⸝ 𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷. ❩ YOU WANT TO TAKE A BREAK FROM THE RELATIONSHIP + TOXIC GACHIAKUTA BOYS VERSION!
ೀ 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑻𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑺 - manipulations, guilt tripping, gaslighting, toxic relationship ofc, fake acts, don’t read if you feel uncomfortable + read at your risk.
⊹ 𝑭𝑬𝑨𝑻𝑼𝑹𝑰𝑵𝑮 - rudo┆ enjin ┆tamsy┆zanka┆corvus ┆gris┆ follo┆fu ┆zodyl┆jabber
𝐑𝐔𝐃𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐂 -
the room stayed painfully quiet after you told rudo you wanted a break, the rain outside barely covering the sound of him scoffing under his breath while he leaned back against the couch with crossed arms and an irritated look written all over his face.
“a break?” he repeated bitterly. “that’s seriously what you want?”
you nervously played with the sleeves of your hoodie, avoiding his stare. “i just need some space for a little while.”
his jaw tightened immediately.
“space from me,” he corrected, standing up and walking closer until you felt trapped under his gaze. “you know people only say that when they’re already halfway out the door.”
“that’s not true,” you whispered.
rudo laughed quietly, but there was nothing amused about it. “then why does it feel like you’re trying to leave me?”
you hated how guilty he made you feel so easily, even when you knew asking for a break shouldn’t have been wrong in the first place.
he stared at you for a long moment before muttering under his breath, “you seriously think i’m just gonna sit here and let you disappear from me?”
afterward, the apartment felt even colder, and neither of you said much because the words had already landed too hard to take back, while rudo stayed tense and quiet like he wanted to argue but did not know how to stop himself from making it worse.
so now, he keeps texting you nonstop after you leave, acting angry in one message then suddenly desperate in the next because he genuinely cannot handle the thought of distance between you two.
he gets jealous way easier during the break because now every person around you feels like competition in his head. and he tells himself he’s angry at you for leaving, but deep down he’s mostly terrified you won’t come back at all..
𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 -
the second you told enjin you wanted a break, his entire expression changed, the soft look he usually gave you disappearing almost instantly while he stared at you in complete disbelief from across the room.
“a break?” he repeated slowly, setting his phone down. “after everything i do for you?”
you shifted nervously. “i just think we need some space right now—”
“space for what?” he cut in sharply, standing up. “so you can ignore me? avoid me? pretend i don’t exist?”
the guilt hit immediately, exactly the way it always did whenever he got upset, and enjin noticed it too because his tone softened just enough to pull you back in.
“you know i care about you more than anyone else does,” he said quietly while walking closer. “so why are you treating me like i’m disposable?”
you frowned. “that’s not what i’m doing.”
“then don’t leave.”
his voice stayed calm, but the way he looked at you made your chest tighten, like saying no to him would somehow make you the bad person in the situation.
after the argument, enjin stayed unusually quiet, sitting at the edge of the bed with his elbows resting on his knees while the sound of you moving around the house made his chest feel tighter with every second because he hated knowing you were upset with him.
he would keep bringing up how much he depends on you emotionally, saying things like—
“you’re seriously okay leaving me alone like this?” or “i wouldn’t do this to you,” making it harder and harder for you to be mentally stable because every conversation somehow turns into comforting him instead of talking about your own feelings.
enjin starts texting you constantly the second there is even a little distance between you both, sending messages asking where you are, what you are doing, and why you are suddenly “acting different,” and if you take too long to answer he immediately assumes the worst and makes you feel guilty for ignoring him.
𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐒𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 -
when you told tamsy you wanted a break from the relationship, the smile on his face immediately faded, though he still tried pretending he was calm about it at first while leaning back against the wall with crossed arms.
“a break?” he repeated with a quiet laugh. “that’s cute.”
you frowned nervously. “i’m serious, tamsy.”
his eyes narrowed slightly at that, and despite the relaxed posture he always carried, there was something uncomfortable about the way he stared at you now, like he was already trying to figure out how to stop this conversation from happening.
“so what,” he muttered, “you’re suddenly tired of me now?”
“that’s not what i said.”
“then explain it better.”
you tried telling him you just needed time to yourself because the relationship had been overwhelming lately, but tamsy kept interrupting, twisting your words around until you felt frustrated and exhausted trying to defend yourself.
“you know what i think?” he said quietly while stepping closer. “i think somebody got in your head and convinced you that leaving me is a good idea.”
“nobody did that.”
“sure.”
the way he said it made it obvious he did not believe you at all.
tamsy starts acting strangely calm after the argument, but it only makes things more uncomfortable because he begins showing up everywhere unexpectedly, claiming he “just happened to be nearby” whenever you try spending time alone or with other people.
he constantly makes passive aggressive comments about the break situation.
saying things like “guess i’m easy to replace now” or “must be nice finally getting rid of me,” knowing fully well it makes you feel guilty enough to stay around him longer.
whenever you try standing firm on wanting distance, he suddenly becomes charming and affectionate again, touching your hand, pulling you close, talking to you sweetly like nothing ever happened until you start questioning whether the relationship was really that unhealthy to begin with.
𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐀 𝐍𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐊𝐔 -
you told zanka you wanted a break, the air in the room shifted instantly, not into anger, but into something colder and heavier that made it hard to breathe properly while he just stared at you for a long moment like he was deciding what version of the truth to use.
“you’re leaving me,” he said quietly, not even a question.
“i said a break,” you corrected softly, already feeling uneasy.
he let out a small, humorless laugh, looking away like it hurt him to even hear it.
“that’s what they said too,” he muttered. “my siblings. right before they left me behind.”
your chest tightened immediately. “zanka, that’s not the same thing.”
but he shook his head slowly, already slipping deeper into it, his voice calmer now but sharper in meaning.
“it always starts the same,” he continued, “someone gets tired, someone asks for space, and then one day they just don’t come back at all.”
you tried to step closer, but it felt like there was already a wall between you two.
“i’m not abandoning you,” you said quietly.
he finally looked at you again, and there was something unsettling in how steady his expression was.
“that’s what they said too,” he repeated. “and i believed them.”
what he doesn’t say, what lingers unspoken in the room, is how his version of that story leaves out the part where he pushed them away first, where control and pride came before loss, and now that same pattern is being used again, only this time on you.
𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐕𝐔𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐇𝐀 -
after you told corvus you want a break, he freezes for a second, then immediately softens his expression like he’s trying to stay gentle even though it clearly hits him.
“oh,” he says quietly, smiling a little too quickly, “okay… yeah, if that’s what you need, i can handle that.”
but the problem is he says it too nicely, too calmly, like he’s trying to be the “perfect understanding boyfriend,” and it makes you feel guilty right away even though he hasn’t actually done anything wrong in the moment.
he nods again, stepping back slightly.
“i just… want you to be okay,” he adds softly, looking at you like he’s already convincing himself that this is his fault somehow, even while saying he respects your space.
and then he stops talking, not pushing you, not arguing, just standing there with that gentle smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, like he’s trying to behave properly instead of reacting honestly.
but after that happened.. it became different.
corvus gives you the space you asked for, but he’s visibly too good at it, like he’s overcorrecting, being extra kind and extra careful so you never feel pressured—but that ends up making you feel pressure anyway because he clearly looks like he’s holding everything in.
he sends soft check-ins like “hope you ate today” or “don’t overwork yourself,” never asking for anything directly, but the tone always feels like he’s quietly waiting for you to reassure him even though he never demands it out loud.
and when you don’t respond much, he doesn’t get angry—he gets softer, which somehow makes it worse.
because he acts like he understands everything perfectly while clearly hurting in silence, so the guilt doesn’t come from him saying anything… it comes from how much he’s obviously trying not to.
𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐑𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐍 -
after telling gris you want a break from the relationship, he doesn’t react the way you expect at first, because instead of getting angry or upset, he just tilts his head slightly like you’ve said something confusing rather than serious.
“a break?” he repeats slowly, letting out a small chuckle. “why would you even need that? nothing is wrong.”
you try to explain that you feel overwhelmed and need space, but he keeps interrupting you with calm, dismissive responses that make it harder to even finish your thoughts.
“you’re overthinking again,” he says lightly, waving it off. “you always do this when you’re stressed, you know that.”
you pause, because the way he says it is so confident that it makes you briefly doubt yourself, even though you were sure about how you felt moments ago.
when you try to insist, he steps closer—not aggressive, just familiar enough to shrink the distance in a way that feels normal but also trapping.
“come on,” he says softer now, smiling like he’s trying to soothe you, “you don’t actually mean you want space from me. you’re just tired, that’s all.”
and when you hesitate, he uses that silence like confirmation.
“see?” he continues gently. “you’re not even sure what you’re asking for right now.”
but gris doesn’t respect your request for space, he slowly reframes it every time you bring it up, acting like you misunderstood your own feelings, which makes you start second-guessing what you originally wanted.
he keeps insisting that nothing is actually wrong between you two, even when you clearly say otherwise, and he reacts to your boundaries as if they are temporary moods rather than serious needs, which makes it harder for you to feel confident in sticking to them.
𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎 𝐓𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐎 -
after telling him, he goes completely still for a moment, like the words don’t fully land at first, and then he slowly looks up at you with an expression that changes too neatly from surprise into sadness, like he’s deciding in real time which version of himself will keep you from walking away.
“a break…” he repeats quietly, letting the word hang in the air before he exhales like it physically hurts him. “i didn’t think it was that bad between us.”
you try to keep your voice steady, explaining again that you just need space to think, that it’s not about punishing him or something he did wrong in a single moment, but the more you talk, the more he subtly reshapes the conversation into something heavier and more emotional on his side.
he tilts his head slightly, eyes softening in a way that feels intentionally visible.
“so it’s me, then,” he says gently, like he’s accepting blame too easily. “i knew it. i always mess things up without realizing until it’s too late.”
you pause, because that wasn’t what you said, but now the focus has already shifted.
he steps a little closer, not enough to be threatening, just enough to make it harder to fully detach from the moment, and his voice drops into something quieter, more fragile.
“i just didn’t think you’d be the one to want distance from me,” he continues, swallowing like he’s trying to hold back emotion that may or may not be fully real in the way he’s presenting it. “i thought… you actually liked being around me.”
and now you’re not just explaining your need for space anymore, you’re also trying to make sure he doesn’t feel like he’s completely unlovable, even though that was never the point of what you said.
he watches your reaction closely, and when you hesitate, his sadness deepens just a little more, like he’s gently pulling you into reassuring him without ever directly asking you to.
“it’s okay,” he says softly, forcing a small smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. i just didn’t expect to be… easy to leave.”
and that line lingers, because it frames your boundary as abandonment rather than choice.
𝐅𝐔 𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑 -
he goes quiet so fast as soon as you told him, it’s almost like he disappears into himself, his shoulders tensing and his gaze dropping to the floor like he can’t even look at you properly anymore.
“oh…” he whispers, voice small. “i… i didn’t know it was that bad.”
you try to explain that it’s not about one big thing, just that you need space and time to breathe, but he keeps shrinking further into himself while you talk, making the whole situation feel heavier and more fragile than it needs to be.
“i’m sorry,” he says quickly, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with them. “i probably did something wrong again, didn’t i…?”
you immediately try to correct him, saying it’s not about blaming him, but he already clings to that idea like it’s the only explanation he can accept, and his voice gets even softer.
“i always mess things up without meaning to,” he continues, barely above a whisper. “i just didn’t think you’d want to get away from me.”
and the way he says it makes it hard to keep your boundary steady, because instead of arguing or getting angry, he just looks like he’s falling apart quietly in front of you, like your need for space is something he’s already decided he deserves.
but afterward, fu doesn’t push directly, but he becomes overly careful around you.
he’s constantly apologizing for small things, acting nervous about whether he’s “doing too much” or “being annoying,” which slowly shifts the emotional weight onto you so that even normal distance feels like you’re hurting him unintentionally.
he also starts seeking reassurance in small, hesitant ways, asking indirect questions like if you’re “still okay with him being around” or if he “did anything wrong today,” which keeps pulling you back into comforting him instead of focusing on your own need for space.
𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐋 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍 -
he doesn’t react the way most people would expect, because there’s no shock, no pleading, no visible hurt at all, just a slow blink as he looks at you like you’ve said something mildly inconvenient.
“a break,” he repeats flatly, tilting his head slightly. “is that supposed to change anything?”
you try to explain that you need space and time away to think clearly, but he barely seems interested in the emotional weight of it, only in the fact that it interrupts what he already expects from you.
he exhales through his nose, almost bored.
“do what you want,” he says, turning slightly away as if the conversation is already over. “if you’re going to leave, then leave properly.”
there’s no anger in his tone, but that almost makes it worse, because it feels like your feelings don’t even register as something worth reacting to.
when you hesitate, he glances back at you briefly, expression unreadable.
“don’t expect me to wait around confused,” he adds calmly. “decide what you are and stick to it.”
and then he stops engaging, like your decision is just another logistical outcome rather than something emotional, leaving you standing there with all the weight of the relationship while he acts completely unaffected.
later one, zodyl gives you total emotional detachment—no reassurance, no attempts to fix things, no visible effort to hold you back.
but also no warmth to return to, which slowly creates a different kind of pressure where you start questioning whether your absence even matters to him at all.
𝐉𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑 -
he doesn’t really react right away, instead letting out a small, almost amused laugh like he’s trying to make it seem like you’re being dramatic rather than serious.
“a break?” he repeats, leaning back slightly. “you always say stuff like that when you’re upset.”
you try to explain that you’re not just upset, you genuinely need space, but he immediately starts steering the conversation away from your feelings and back onto your reliability, like the problem isn’t the relationship but your judgment.
“you know you don’t actually mean that,” he says casually, like he’s stating a fact. “you just get overwhelmed and start thinking everything’s wrong.”
and the way he says it makes you pause, even though you were sure how you felt a moment ago.
when you try to insist again, he sighs like he’s the one being patient.
“i’m not mad,” he adds, softer now, almost reasonable, “i just don’t want you making decisions you’ll regret later and blaming me for it.”
he never raises his voice, never directly forbids you, but he keeps reframing your boundary as confusion, instability, or overreaction, until you’re spending more time defending your own feelings than actually expressing them.
later on, jabber doesn’t give you space in a clean way—he stays in contact just enough to keep influence, acting normal and friendly while subtly dismissing your need for distance whenever it comes up again.
making it harder and harder for your “break” to feel real because he keeps treating it like something you’re not fully capable of deciding for yourself.
