Hello and welcome to my first actual fanfiction EVER written. As a head start— my fanfiction is mainly an Enjin x OC. Can you imply yourself as the character? Sure why not I don’t mind that, but generally, I wouldn’t like people complaining about how I’m writting the MC, we’re positive people here. Most of the lore and settings will be kept, minor changes will be made so it can stay in touch with my OC’s story. Now we go onto trigger warnings and what you’ll be waiting for in the ff.
trigger warnings : smut, violence, suggestive language, use of tobacco, use of drugs, traumatic events, abuse of any kinds, angst, manga spoilers.
If you cannot deal with such things or if you are under the legal age of 18, PLEASE, go read some fluff, this is not something for you to read.
I will be staying nonchalant and mysterious about the story cause damn what is a story without drama and some mystery.
Will I be giving them a good ending? (Adding this cause I was a victim of many angst ffs looking like fluff with a bad ending) yeaaaah? Probably??? That’s where I want to head to. So no worries.
No information will be added that soon about the mc (we see you mysterious girl heh) . Gotta aura farm better than dear Santa.
No other characters belong to me besides a few mentioned that are NOT in the manga. MC, and 3 characters that I’ve made up belong to me. The rest have their full credits to kei urana (we glaze urana here)
And with that I won’t keep you longer , I might add a few notes at the end. Please let me know what you think of my fanfiction and what you think will happen!
Smooches.
WC: 630
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
“Life wasn’t easy in the slightest on the ground—trash beasts around every corner, so many givers causing trouble for the normies, so many mysteries. That’s what I usually told myself while spending my time training as a giver in the North branch. Unfortunately for us, due to the pollution, the weather has been going crazy, drastically changing. Nowadays, it seems it’s only gotten colder for us—and not to mention, all this weather has attracted more trash, and more trash only means more trash beasts. So naturally, we were informed that we’d be splitting for the time being to the East and South branches. I was told I would be moving to the East branch, where some of the strongest cleaners are stationed—and of course, an old acquaintance, Semiu.
We were never really actual friends, but not far from it either; she understood me and I understood her, so hearing that she’d be the one waiting for me was sort of comforting.
“It will take around three days for you to get there. Are you sure you’ll be ready by sunset tomorrow? We can ask for more time for you and—”
“No, it will be just enough. I don’t have a lot of stuff on me. And if I need anything, then I guess I’ll just buy those things myself,” I say reassuringly to Myu, one of the supporters. She was a tall, broad woman, really sweet and maternal. You would say she was the same age as me, but that’s not true at all—that woman was 38 years old, looking so put-together and young that many of us were jealous. I mean—who wouldn’t be?
Myu was always there for me. I used to live with my mother, but my past is something I never try to think about; so after I realized I was a giver, my mother’s awful maternal instincts apparently told her give the child away! Funny way to put it, but it was just the truth… luckily, I wasn’t sold away as a slave or anything worse. And to my luck, I had Myu—the woman who took care of me since I was 12. The woman I have to thank for all I have now and everything I’ve become.
“If you say so…” she says as she cups my face. “I can’t wait to meet again… make sure to write to me—and if you feel homesick, ask their leader, Corvus, and write me.” She gives me a somehow melancholic smile. Oh, Myu…
“Are you ready?” says Élodie, one of my friends. She was also a giver. Her vital instrument was… well… a plastic flower. But not to underestimate it! Either way, I’ll be looking forward to seeing what she’ll make of it. We’ve never ended up on missions together, but hopefully I’ll see more of her in the eastern part of the ground.
“Yes… I’m just making sure I’ve got everything. We’re leaving tomorrow around 8 a.m., right?” I say as I look over my bags, rubbing the corner of my chin, picking at some dry skin. The weather was starting to become too dry.
“No, around 10,” she says as she throws herself onto the couch near my bed. “This is so bothersome; I wish we didn’t need to move bases…” she sighs.
“You’re not the only one feeling like that. I’m sure all of us wish it wasn’t the case. But at least we’ll be going together.” I put all my clothes in one bag and an awful lot of cigarette packs in the other—bad habits here and there and blah blah. Myu always told me to stop smoking, but I guess it takes more than one person’s concern. Hopefully I’ll give them up soon enough.
As I finish packing, I put the bags aside near my bed. My uniform stays neatly on the small table by my window. All set and prepared for the road… I look at the clock on the wall. 6 p.m. I still had some time before I’d be sleeping.
“You done?” Élodie says as she notices me looking at the clock.
“Yeah… we should go outside for a smoke and eat. We’ll be sleeping early today.”
---
9 a.m.
“Okay, everybody ready?” says Myu, looking around at the bags in the back of the jeep, making sure none of us forgot anything.
“All set!” says Mark, one of the supporters who will be going with us to the East branch.
---
9:30 a.m.
“Please be safe.”
“I will. I’m older now—I’ll be the one taking care of you soon enough.” I grin at Myu. She looks at me, then chuckles to herself, shaking her head as I return the same heartfelt laugh. I hope she’ll be okay…
“The road is so damaged, I can’t even sleep without my head hitting the window!” Élodie whines as she hits her head against the glass for what seems like the ninth time. I couldn’t help but giggle at her annoyance.
In almost 30 minutes, we’ll be at the East branch of the cleaners’ organization. I couldn’t help but wonder what the people around this area were like—what givers lived here, what vital instruments they had. Hopefully they’ll be nice…
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
I look down at my fingers, fidgeting with the dry skin that starts to leave scars around my nails. Gosh I should stop doing this; I was 21, I’m no child to do such reckless stuff. I huff lowly as I take my own hand and rub it a little. I was so nervous meeting the new team. I took word of the team I was assigned to.. team eager, what did it even mean to be honest? Regardless of that. I hope they weren’t weirdo’s. I HOPED.
I notice Semiu at the center of the hall, right near the wall. She was at a receptionist desk, I always saw her working in such places, it kind of felt relieving. The familiarity towards her , her vibe, it just made it easier for me to be here . But all that was gone and I could feel my face dropping.
“Can you stop talking so loud?! You’re go into make my head explode!” An average height guy with angelic hair and a soft facial structure shouted at a HUGE dude . And when I say huge I don’t mean to exagerate it. He was huge, full of muscles, and a really scary face…. Ugh.
“Sorry Tamsy, I’m just really excited to see our new teammates. ” The huge man says as he hangs his hands in the air then dramatically drops them. “Do you think they are passionate people just like us?”
“Actually—“ Semiu speaks up. “Only she will be joining.” She says while pointing her pen at me . Both of the guys look at me, then at my friend . Semiu then speaks up again. “You—“ she points at Élodie “You will be joining team beauty.” We look at each other with confused faces , were we getting separated..?
Mark leaves prior to put our bags for us in our rooms as we leave to get along with our new teammates. Lucky for my friend; well.. she got normal teammates. I was stuck with some angelic looking ass dude who seemed creepy somehow, and apparently the loud, big , nice and fucking annoying dude that wouldn’t stop talking about PASSION . Fuck your passion man. That’s what I wanted to shout at him, but today I was supposed to give my first impression— so I decided to keep my mouth shut. “I’m sorry for my friend here—“ says Tamsy, was that his name? I think I’ve heard it right when the tall dude said his name. “We’re just really passionate people in team eager, and we so hope other passionate people join our team.” His voice was so soft I could fall asleep while he reads me a bed time story. “I’m Tamsy, and this is Delmon.” He says as we both stop in front of the door leading to the cafeteria . “I’m Haruhana.” I speak lowly. Tamsy looks at me as if he was taking the information in . “Well then, Haruhana” his tongue rolls around my name as if it was some melody for him . “Welcome to our HQ, the East branch is more than happy to take you in , especially team eager. We hope you’ll be just as passionate as us during our journey together as teammates.” He is so nice I couldn’t help but smile— then he opens the doors , leading my view to a place full of people. Gosh this will be awkward..
“Is this one of the new cleaners sent for refugee?” A blonde man says as he turns around, taking a drag out of his cigarette.
“Glad to see new faces around here, come sit with us, get to know people ‘round here, don’t be shy.” Another blonde man says as he waves to me and my teammates . We walk over to their table.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
I really hope that they’re nice people…
Writer’s note: I hope you guys like the template ngl… I’ll be adding more soon. For now this is the start of the story and I hope you guys like it. It was really fun writing it . I will update this page in the comments for part 1 as this is just the prologue.
Please do not feed my story to AI, no AI is used to write it besides to correct minor spelling grammars. Which tbh I’m too lazy to check even with it.
─── Y/N and Ni-ki have been trapped in a casual arrangement since she said yes to his half-joking offer months ago. She fell for him the first time they met on their college rooftop, but he keeps her at arm's length — close enough for convenience, far enough to never call it anything real. Now she's caught between wanting more and pretending she doesn't, while he runs hot and cold in ways that feel less like indifference and more like fear.
𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : college AU, angst, friends with benefits, toxic situationship, smut (mdni), porn with plot
𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : fuckboy!riki, swearing, smoking, mention of weed, alcohol, kissing (a lot during sex), unprotected sex, creampie, p in v, fingering, mention of gun shooting, mention of drugs, ni-ki has a bad relationship with his parents, “when it’s good it’s really good, when it’s bad it’s really bad” type of relationship
𝐰𝐜 : 13.1k
𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ── (no specific order, i recommend listening to it while reading)
♪ DIE FOR ME - Chase Atlantic
♪ Issues - Julia Michaels
♪ THINGS AND SUCH - PARTYNEXTDOOR
♪ Boyfriend- Ariana Grande ft. Social House
♪ So High - Doja Cat
♪ Right My Wrongs - Bryson Tiller
♪ Come & See Me - PARTYNEXTDOOR ft. Drake
♪ N 2 Deep - Drake ft. Future
♪ I NEED U - BTS
♪ Casual - Doja Cat
♪ Resentment - PARTYNEXTDOOR
♪ Been Like This - Doja Cat
♪ TBH - PARTYNEXTDOOR
♪ Cinderella - Mac Miller ft. Ty Dolla $ign
❕# I was inspired by one of my experiences with an ex of mine lol (i was the biggest bird of the flock, and yes i was exactly acting like Y/N) y’all are going to hate me, I can feel it. Enjoyyyy :)
You push through the door, laptop bag sliding off your shoulder, already mentally clocking out of the first lecture before it's even started.
You’re so focused on going to your lecture that you nearly collide with someone.
Ni-ki is always recognizable through his scent most of the time, always that faint coffee smell to hide whatever he smoked on the drive over. His hand shoots out to hold something up between your faces. A small black clip. You spent 10 minutes looking for it yesterday with the little crack in the plastic from when you dropped it in your shower not so long ago.
"You left this," he says flatly.
Two days ago. You remember exactly where you left it ; on his nightstand, next to the empty can of soda and your phone that he'd moved so it wouldn't fall off the edge. He kept it in his pocket like a psychopath until now.
You take it. Your fingers brush his.
"Thanks," you say, because what else is there.
He's already stepping around you, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets, heading to the opposite direction of every single one of his classes. You watch the back of his hoodie disappear around the corner.
Jess is already in your usual seats, two rows from the back, her energy drink sweating onto her notebook. She clocks your face the second you sit down.
"God, you look terrified," she says. "What happened?"
You set the clip on the desk. "Ni-ki just returned my hair clip."
Jess's eyebrows go up. She knows, not everything, but enough to figure out your state. She knows you go over there and she knows you don't talk about it.
"And how was that exchange ?"
"Normal, I guess." You pull out your laptop, even though you know you're not going to take notes. "He said 'you left this' and walked away."
"Romantic."
"Right."
She's quiet for a bit, then leans closer, lowering her voice even though no one near you is paying attention. "Okay, real question. Are you, like... keeping track? I mean, number-wise."
You frown. "Like...body counts?"
"Yeah. Like, since this whole thing started. Are you even seeing other people? Are you counting repeats? Because I've been thinking about it and I genuinely don't know what the etiquette is."
"I don't think there is an etiquette for whatever this is." You tap your fingernail against the desk. "And no, I'm not counting anything."
"You should. For records, at least." She grins, but it fades when you don't mirror it. "Fine. Do you want to count him? Like, in a way that means something?"
The professor walks in and you watch the projector screen flicker to life.
"I don't know," you say. And that's the worst part, you don't know if you want him to mean something or if you just want to stop wanting it so badly. The line between the two has been blurred for months now.
Jess sighs. "Boys are so stupid, like actually brain-dead. I swear my ex thought the clit wasn’t a real thing."
That pulls a laugh out of you, tired and a little rough. "He wasn't that bad."
"Your bar is in hell as I can see."
The lecture starts. You zone out ten minutes in, thumb moving over the crack in your hair clip. He kept it in his pocket for two days. You don't know what that means and you're probably not supposed to know.
It's fine. You'll text him tonight. He'll reply with one word or nothing at all. And you'll go over anyway. Because that's what this is.
───
Break time hits and the courtyard is a mess. You find a spot at one of the picnic tables near the old oak tree, Jess refuses to sit at because she says it gives her anxiety. You don’t mind it. It’s farther from the main walkway, which means fewer people trying to make small talk.
Jess is already inside the cafeteria buying a pastry that she kept talking about during the whole lecture, so you’re alone for a minute, scrolling on your phone without really focusing on anything. The sun is too bright and the coffee you had earlier is making your hands feel jittery. You can’t stop thinking about the way Ni-ki held out that hair clip this morning like it was nothing.
You look up because something in your peripheral shifts, and there he is. Two tables over, diagonal across the courtyard, sitting with Jay and Jungwon and another guy you don’t recognize. He’s not paying attention to whatever Jay is saying ; his elbow is propped on the table, chin resting on his knuckles, and he’s looking directly at you.
You hold eye contact because looking away first feels like losing a battle you didn't even initiate.
He tilts his head slightly, lazy but intentional, and mouths something slowly so you catch every syllable: "My place. After classes?"
Sounds like it’s a statement dressed up like one.
You nod once, enough for him to catch it.
He smiles but not a big one, it's a twitch at the corner of his mouth, making it looks like he’s amused by the whole thing, you just confirmed something he already knew. Afterwards, he turns back to his friends like nothing happened, reaching over to steal Jay’s fries without looking at you again.
Oh you hate what you just felt at that exact moment.
Jess drops into the seat across from you a moment later, biting into a croissant that’s shedding crumbs everywhere. “Okay, so I have a chem lab at 2 and then I’m free,” she says, talking around the pastry. “You wanna grab food after? There's that new Thai place that opened and I’ve been thinking about their spring rolls for days.”
You blink at her, still half-focused on the back of Ni-ki’s hoodie across the courtyard.
“Damn, the wind must be really strong today.”
“Sorry. What?”
“Thai place after classes. You in or not?”
You hesitate for a beat too long and Jess’s eyes narrow.
“Oh Lord,” she says slowly, setting down her croissant. “You’re not free, are you?”
You pick at a splinter on the table. “Not tonight.”
“Let me guess.” She leans forward. “Tall and emotionally unavailable.”
“Is that how you see him?”
“Am I wrong?”
You don’t answer, and she groans into her hands.
“You’re actually killing me,” she says. “One day, you’re going to wake up and realize you’ve been in a situationship with a guy who communicates exclusively through neutral face expressions.”
“He talked to me this morning.”
“He returned your hair clip, that’s not talking. Girl, come on.”
You laugh despite yourself, kicking her foot under the table. “Just text me the menu and I’ll go with you next week.”
She sighs heavily as she picks her croissant back up. “Fine. But you owe me details. Not the weird ones, i don't want to know how he fucks. I just want to know...like his last name. I don’t even know his last name.”
You look back toward the other table. Ni-ki is laughing at something Jungwon said, head tipped back slightly, and for a second he looks younger than 21, less like the version of him that presses you against his mattress and more like the version that offered you a cigarette on a rooftop when you were both strangers.
You still don’t know his last name either.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “Me neither.”
───
The last class of the day finally ends. By the time the professor dismisses you, the sun has already set down, letting the sky being painted in purple and orange shades.
You don't rush to the parking lot. Something about walking too fast feels like admitting out loud that seeing him was the only thing you were looking forward to the whole day. Which it was.
The lot is mostly empty now, most students cleared out ten minutes ago, desperate to escape. Your sneakers scrape against the concrete as you weave between rows of beat-up sedans and the occasional overcompensating truck. And you finally spot his car.
His black Camaro is parked in the far corner, the one closest to the exit, because of course he needs a quick getaway. The engine is already running ; you can tell by the faint exhaust curling from the back ; and through the windshield you can see him slouched in the driver's seat, one hand resting on the wheel.
His head is tilted down, probably at his phone, and for a second you think about turning around and walking away just to see how long it would take him to notice. But your feet keep moving because you're pathetic like that.
You pull open the passenger door and the warmth hits you immediately ; he always runs the heat even when it's not that cold outside. The leather seat creaks under you as you slide in, tossing your bag between your feet.
Ni-ki doesn't look up right away as he finishes typing something, locks his phone, and only then turns his head toward you.
"You took forever," he says.
"Class ran late."
He hums, unconvinced, but he doesn't push it. He reaches over and pulls your seatbelt across you, not because he's being sweet, but because he's watched you forget it three times now and he's tired of the car beeping.
His knuckles brush your collarbone.
He puts the car in reverse and backs out without checking his blind spot, which should terrify you but doesn't anymore. The parking lot exits onto a side street and then he's merging into traffic, one hand on the wheel, the other tapping against his thigh to some imaginary song.
You watch his profile. The way his jaw is set, the tiny scar near his eyebrow he's never explained, the way his hoodie sleeve falls just right on his wrist.
"So," you say, because sitting in total silence for the whole drive feels like something a hostage would do. "You had a good day?"
He glances at you, and there's something almost amused in his expression. "You don't care about my day."
"Maybe I do."
"You don't." He says it simply, he obviously assumes that you don't actually care about his day because you're only here for one reason. And the worst part is he's not wrong, or maybe he is wrong and you just haven't figured out how to prove it yet.
You look out the window instead. The buildings blur past, a laundromat, a bodega with a faded sign, a bus stop with one tired-looking person waiting. Just normal things.
After a minute, Ni-ki's hand leaves the wheel and lands on your thigh, resting there.
The car keeps moving.
───
His house is too big for one person. That's the same thing you think every time you walk through the front door, and tonight is no different. The entryway alone could fit your entire apartment, and the ceilings are so high you get a little neck cramp looking up at the chandelier that probably costs more than your tuition.
Ni-ki doesn't bother with the lights. He hits a switch near the door and the living room floods with warm overhead light, revealing a space that looks like something out of a magazine ; leather couches, a marble coffee table that's definitely never seen a coffee ring, floor-to-ceiling windows that face a backyard you've only seen once in the dark. Everything is clean.
He kicks off his shoes by the door and you do the same, lining your sneakers up next to his like a silent compromise between his mess and yours.
You're still shrugging off your jacket when he drops onto the massive sectional couch, sprawling across it like a cat going for a nap. His hoodie rides up slightly and you look away because looking at him in that way would feel criminal.
"So," he says, drawing the word out, and there's something in his voice that makes you pause mid-fold of your jacket. "We've done the bed. We've done the floor. We've done the kitchen counter that one time." He tilts his head against the cushion, eyes tracking you across the room. "What about the couch?"
You freeze with your jacket still in your hands.
There's a crease at the corner of his eye that gives him away. He's enjoying this ; the way your shoulders go stiff, the way you suddenly can't look at him directly. The couch is huge and leather and objectively fine, but something about the suggestion makes your face heat anyway. Maybe because it's different, maybe because it feels less like falling into bed and more like something you'd have to think about.
"Don't get shy now," he says, and his voice is lower, teasing but soft underneath. "You literally said yes before I finished asking last time."
"That was something else."
"How?"
You want to answer, but it's embarrassing. You're not shy about him, not really, not anymore. But the couch feels too exposed, too close to the windows, too close to the part of the house where someone could theoretically walk in even though no one ever does. It feels less like a decision and more like a dare.
You drape your jacket over the back of an armchair, stalling. "I'm not shy."
Ni-ki shifts, propping himself up on his elbow. His hair falls over his forehead and he looks annoyingly handsome like this, all loose limbs and lazy confidence. "Yeah? Then come here."
Three words. And your feet move before your brain catches up. He doesn't even have to beg, when he just says things like they've already happened and waits for you to catch up, knowing you will eventually.
You stop at the edge of the couch, looking down at him. He looks back up at you, and his expression softens a little.
"Or we can go upstairs," he says, and it's not a concession.
You hate how easy it is for him to make you feel seen.
You sit down on the edge of the couch, close enough that your knee touches his thigh. "The couch is fine."
His eyebrow goes up. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
His hand finds your waist anyway, pulling you closer until you're half-draped across his chest, and the leather creaks beneath you both. His heart is steady under your palm but yours is not.
"Liar," he murmurs against your hair.
He's right. You are shy, and a really bad liar.
The walk up to his bedroom feels longer than it should, the anticipation is buzzing under your skin. You’re practically vibrating with nervous energy as Ni-ki unlocks the massive door and pushes it open. The room is dark and spacious, lit only by the soft glow of city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows.
He immediately reaches for the hem of his oversized hoodie, yanking it over his head and tossing it carelessly onto the floor. The sight of his bare chest stops you in your tracks. You feel a sudden, overwhelming wave of shyness wash over you, your cheeks flushing hot as you avert your gaze, suddenly feeling incredibly exposed.
"Why are you getting shy again?" Ni-ki asks, his voice low and amused as he steps closer, invading your personal space. He tilts his head, his eyes studying your face intently. "You’re not usually like this. What’s up?"
You look up at him, your voice barely a whisper. "Can we...go soft this time?" you ask, feeling vulnerable. He pauses, a glint of confusion crossing his face, but he nods slowly, understanding dawning in his eyes.
"Okay," he says, his voice dropping an octave lower. "I'll be soft."
He pulls you in by the waist, his hands warm against your skin, and you can feel the tension building between you. He presses you gently against the doorframe, his lips capturing yours in a soft kiss. His hands wander down your back, his fingers digging into your flesh, but you don't want to rush. You want to feel every inch of him, dragging this out.
You kiss him back, your tongues tangling together, a slow and deep exploration. His hands slide up your shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, sending shivers down your spine. His hands move to the waistband of your pants, his fingers teasing the button and zipper. You shiver as he undoes them, letting them pool around your ankles, and you step out of them, kicking them aside.
He picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, and carries you to the bed. He lays you down gently, the mattress sinking beneath you. He climbs on top of you, his weight pressing you into the sheets. He kisses you again, his lips moving from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck, his tongue flicking over your sensitive skin. You arch your back, giving him more access, his hands exploring your body, mapping out every curve and dip.
He moves lower, his lips trailing down your stomach, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your underwear. He pulls them down slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. He parts your legs, his fingers tracing the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. You gasp, your hips bucking slightly as he touches you there.
He leans down and spreads your legs wider, his fingers sliding into you. He begins to finger you, his movements slow and pleasant, his fingers curling inside you, searching for that sweet spot. You moan his name, your hands gripping a pillow beside you. He adds a second finger, stretching you, his thumb rubbing against your clit. You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your muscles tightening around his fingers.
He pulls his fingers out, and you whine at the loss. He looks up at you before bringing his fingers into his mouth, sucking on them. "Sweet, huh?" he says, smiling, before moving up to kiss you again.
He positions himself at your entrance, his eyes locking onto yours. He pushes in slowly, inch by inch, filling you completely. You gasp, his eyes rolling back slightly as he stretches you. He stays there for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, the friction building between you. "Tell me if it hurts."
"It's okay." You barely could answer.
He begins to move. He watches your face, wanting to see every reaction you have to him. He kisses you deeply, the kiss matching the pace of his hips. The feeling of him filling you up is overwhelming, the sensation of being so full and stretched is intense.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, encouraging him to go faster, but he holds back, his pace steady and controlled. He wants to make this last. He focuses on the sensations, the heat between your bodies.
He pulls out slightly, then pushes back in, his eyes never leaving yours. He leans down and kisses your neck, his teeth grazing your skin. You moan his name, the sound echoing in the room. He smiles against your skin, a small, satisfied smile, knowing he’s making you feel good.
He picks up the pace just a little, his thrusts becoming a little more urgent, but still slow. He wants to be inside you for as long as possible. The friction is delicious, sending sparks flying through your body. He kisses you again, his tongue tangling with yours, the taste of you driving him wild.
You can feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your muscles tightening around him. You look up at him, your eyes glazed with pleasure. "Ni-ki," you breathe out, your voice breathless and ragged. "I'm going to come," you whisper.
He nods, his eyes locking onto yours, and he keeps thrusting, his pace remaining steady, but he focuses on the spot that makes you see stars. You cry out his name as you unravel, your body clamping down on him. He follows moments later, his hips bucking against yours as he releases inside you, filling you completely.
He stays inside you for a long time, the silence of the room broken only by your ragged breathing. He leans down and kisses your forehead, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close. "Fuck...that was good," he says, his voice quiet and tired.
He reaches for the bedside table and pulls out a small baggie and a lighter. He packs a bowl, taking a long drag, and then offers it to you.
You take a hit, your lungs filling with the smoke, and you cough slightly. He laughs, his chest vibrating against your back. He leans over you, blowing the smoke directly on your face. He pulls back, a mischievous grin on his face.
"Come closer," he whispers, his voice husky. He blows another cloud of smoke into your mouth, sealing it with a kiss. You feel the smoke swirl in your mouth and then pass it back to him, the taste of weed and mint mixing on your tongues.
"Ayy, that was kinda cool," he says, tracing the outline of your lips with his thumb.
"Was it?" you ask, a smile playing on your lips.
"Yeah," he says, his eyes darkening. "You should come over more often."
You just smile, content and relaxed, feeling the weight of the day melting away.
The bedroom is a mess of tangled blankets and discarded clothes by the time you both settle into the quiet evening. The floor lamp in the corner casts everything in a golden glow, just enough to see the shape of his arm resting above his head, the way his chest rises and falls.
You're on your back, staring at the ceiling, your shirt thrown somewhere near the night table.
Ni-ki hasn't moved to touch you. His hand is draped off the edge of the bed, fingers grazing the floor, and he's looking at the wall with that blank expression that could mean anything or nothing.
You don't know why you ask it and the words just fall out.
"Have you ever thought about getting a girlfriend?"
It sounds almost too casual. You keep your eyes on the ceiling so you don't have to see his reaction.
For a moment he doesn't answer. Then you feel him shift beside you, the mattress dipping slightly as he props himself up on one elbow. When you glance over, he's looking down at you with something unreadable on his face.
"What kind of question is that?" he says.
You shrug with one shoulder. "Just wondering."
He's quiet again, and you think maybe he's going to ignore it, change the subject or reach for his phone like he usually does. He exhales through his nose, almost a laugh, and runs a hand through his hair.
"There's this girl," he says, and your stomach drops. "She keeps calling me, texts me like three times a week. She wants to come over and fuck again."
You keep your face neutral. "And ?"
"And I don't really want to. She's kind of annoying, to be honest." He pauses, tilting his head like he's considering something. "But I might consider it. It kinda gets boring doing the same thing all the time."
The same thing. You. He means you.
Your jaw tenses and you look back at the ceiling because if you look at him right now, he'll see it ; the glint of something stupid. Jealousy. Over a girl you don't even know, over a guy who isn't yours and has never pretended to be.
You swallow it down. "So do it then," you say, and your voice comes out steady. "Not like we're exclusive."
"Exactly." He says it so easily.
There's a beat of silence. He shifts again, and you feel his gaze on your profile.
"What about you," he says. "You ever want a relationship? Like, one day."
The question catches you off guard. He's never asked you anything personal before. The closest he's gotten was asking if you wanted water that one time, and even that felt like an accident.
You should say yes. I mean you do want one. Just not with someone else. Maybe with him. But that's not what he's asking and you know it.
"No," you say, and the lie tastes bitter. "That's too much work."
He stares at you for a second longer before he drops back onto the mattress, arm going over his eyes. "Yeah," he says, voice muffled. "Same."
You lie there in the darkening room, his body warm next to yours but not touching, and you listen to the silence stretch.
He reaches for his phone on the floor and you reach for your shirt.
That's how it goes.
───
Friday afternoon, the sky is gray and it looks like it might rain but probably won't. You find yourself climbing the stairs to the rooftop before you've fully decided to go there. The pack of cigarettes in your pocket feels like an excuse, but it's the only one you have.
The door creaks when you push it open, and the air hits you instantly, a little damp, carrying the distant sound of traffic from the main road. You step out onto the gravel, lighter already in your hand.
Ni-ki is already there, leaning against the railing at the edge of the roof, the same spot where you first met him 8 months ago. His back is to you, shoulders hunched, a thin curl of smoke rising from between his fingers. He doesn't turn around when the door closes behind you. Either he didn't hear or he doesn't care.
For a second you think about leaving, turning around and going back down the stairs, pretending you never came up here. But your feet don't move, and neither does he, so you walk over to the opposite side of the railing and lean against it a few feet away.
You pull out a cigarette, light it and take a drag. The smoke burns on the way down.
Neither of you speaks for a long minute. The wind picks up, ruffling his hair, and he finally glances sideways at you. His eyes look tired, you already know he hasn't been sleeping at all.
"You smoke too much," he says, not even greeting you.
"So do you."
He huffs something that might be a laugh but it's hollow. He turns back to look at the skyline, the cluster of buildings and trees and the far-off blur of the highway. His jaw is tight, you could see it.
You should leave it alone. That's the agreement ; you don't do feelings, you don't do problems, you just do each other's bodies and then go home. But something about how his shoulders are set like he's holding something heavy, makes the words come out anyway.
"You okay?"
He takes a long drag, holds it and exhales. The smoke gets carried away by the wind.
"My parents," he says finally, and his voice is flat. "They want to cut me off."
You wait. He doesn't elaborate so you push. "Cut you off from what?"
"Everything." He flicks ash onto the gravel. "Money. My car. My card. All of it." A pause. "They say I've been doing bad things with it. That I'm out of control."
You can guess ; the late nights, the people he knows, the way his eyes look red sometimes when he picks you up. You've never asked before,it never felt like your place.
"So what are you going to do?" you say.
He looks at you then and there's something sharp in his expression. "What am I supposed to do? Get a job that I don't even like? Work at a café like a normal person?" He says it like the words taste bad.
You take a drag, thinking. "Maybe you could talk to them. Explain that—"
"I'm not explaining anything." His voice is harder now. "They don't listen. They never have. They just throw money at problems and then get mad when the problems don't magically disappear."
"Okay, but if they take the car, how are you going to—"
"I don't know." He cuts you off, pushing off from the railing and turning to face you fully. His cigarette is burning down between his fingers.
You take another drag. "You could...I don't know, sell some stuff? Or try to— "
"You don't get it."
His voice cuts through yours sharper than you expected. You turn to look at him. He's still facing forward, but his shoulders are tense now, his hand gripping the edge of the railing.
"I'm not saying I get it," you say carefully. "I'm just trying to help."
"Help." He says the word like an offense. "You can't help. You don't know what it's like to have everything and then have it pulled away. To have people look at you like you're just a spoiled kid who fucks up and that's all you'll ever be." His eyes are darker than usual. "You don't come from that. You don't understand."
It stings. Not because he's wrong about your background, he's not, you've never hidden that you're on scholarships and financial aid but because he's shutting you out in that particular way he does, it makes you feel like you're on the other side of a wall you can't climb.
"I'm not trying to fix it," you say, quieter now. "I just care. That's all."
He stares at you for a long second. His expression flickers, something almost vulnerable, almost soft, and then it's totally gone.
"Care," he repeats. "We're not close, Y/N. We fuck and that's it. You don't have to pretend like there's more, you know?."
He pauses. "I know what you're trying to do." His voice drops. "But you can't. You don't have parents like mine. You don't have...you live in a normal apartment and you worry about normal things. I can't just 'talk to them.' I can't just 'figure it out.' It's not the same."
Your chest tightens, you want to argue, you want to tell him about the hair clip, about the hundred small things that felt like something when you knew it didn't at all.
But you don't. Because he's right, isn't he? That's what you agreed to.
He drops his cigarette, grinds it out under his shoe, and stands. He doesn't look at you again.
You open your mouth to say something but he's already stepping back, dropping his cigarette to the gravel and grinding it out with his shoe.
"Forget it," he says. "I shouldn't have said anything."
He walks past you. The rooftop door creaks open, then shut.
You're alone.
The cigarette in your hand has burned down to the filter. You drop it, watch the last wisp of smoke rise up into the gray sky, and you don't follow him.
That's not your role and it never was.
───
The sand is hot enough to burn your feet by the time you and Jess find a spot near the water. You spread your towels out, anchor them with bags and a half empty bottle of sunscreen, and Jess immediately starts complaining about the seagulls.
"It's fine," you say, pulling your shirt over your head. "They're not gonna attack you."
"You don't know that."
You're about to respond when a volleyball smacks into the sand a few feet away from your towel. Jess jumps in surprise and you look up.
Jay is jogging toward you, already laughing, hand raised in apology. Behind him, Jake is doubled over for some reason, Jungwon is heading towards the shores, and further back, near the water, Ni-ki is standing with his hands in his shorts pockets, watching the horizon.
"Sorry," Jay says, grabbing the ball. "Jake's aim is ass today."
"Jake's aim is always ass," Jess says with a smile. She's known Jay since high school, and some habits don't fade.
Jay waves toward the others. "You guys wanna hang out? We've got a net set up. Well, Jake found a net. We're not sure where it came from though."
You glance at Jess and she shrugs.
"Yeah, okay," you say.
Walking over feels like walking into something you're not prepared for. The sand is soft, slipping under your feet with every step. Jake waves when he sees you. Jungwon is already in the water up to his knees, ignoring everyone. And Ni-ki is standing slightly apart from the group, not looking at you, which is fine because you're not looking at him either.
You haven't talked since yesterday at the rooftop, since he left you there with your cigarette burning down to nothing.
So you don't look at him and he doesn't look at you.
"We should play," Jake says, grabbing the ball from Jay. "Let’s make teams. Y/N, you're with me."
"You're gonna lose," Jess says.
"Bold talk from someone who hasn't touched a volleyball since middle school."
Jess flips him off.
The game is messy, no one really knows the rules except Jay, who keeps trying to enforce them, and Jungwon who doesn't care. You're next to Jake, which means you're laughing more than you're playing because he keeps making stupid comments every time he misses the ball.
"That was on purpose," he says after a ball flies past his head.
"Sure it was."
"I was just testing your reflexes."
You roll your eyes and serve. The ball actually goes over the net, it feels like a miracle. Ni-ki is on the other side, you realize. He misses it and watches it land in the sand next to him.
Jake whoops. "Good job Y/N."
The game ends when someone (no one knows who) decides it's over. Jess is already walking toward the water, pulling her hair into a messy ponytail. Jay follows her.
"Race you," Jake says, and he's already running before you can answer.
You run after him because you're competitive, and the water is cold when it hits your shin, colder when you fall forward trying to dodge a wave. Jake is laughing at you, so you push water at his face.
You two have a full on play fight right there in the shallows, splashing, shoving, Jake grabbing your wrist to spin you around. He's stronger than he looks, but he's also not holding that hard, so you manage to shove him back once, twice. His foot slips on a rock and he goes down, half sitting in the water, still laughing.
"Oh you're so dead," he says.
"You already are."
He lunges for your ankle and you stumble, catching yourself on his shoulder. For a second you're both just standing there, out of breath, water dripping down your faces.
Jake is still loosely holding your wrist.
"You fight dirty," he says.
"Just admit you're slow."
He laughs and lets go, wading deeper, already turning to find Jay.
You look toward the shore without meaning to. Ni-ki is standing at the edge of the water, watching the whole scene. His arms are crossed. His expression is blank.
You hold his gaze for a second but he looks away first.
Jess appears next to you, hair soaked and grinning. "Jake's gonna ask you out by the end of the summer. Watch it."
"He's not."
"Did you see the way he looked at you the whole time ?."
"It was a play fight."
Jess gives you a look. "Sure. And Ni-ki is definitely not standing over there looking like he wants to punch someone."
You glance back at the shore. Ni-ki is walking toward the towels, not toward the water. His steps are quick.
"Hey," Jay calls out. "You’re getting in or what?"
Ni-ki doesn't stop. "Got stuff to do."
"We’re at the beach. What stuff?"
He doesn't answer and grabs his shirt from his bag, shakes the sand off, and starts walking toward the parking lot.
Jake watches him go, frowning. "What's his deal?"
No one answers. Jay looks at you.
"I'm gonna go get some water," you say, because you don't know what else to say.
Jess grabs your arm before you can move. "Don't."
"What?"
"You're gonna chase after him. I can see it on your face. And he's just gonna say something shitty and you're gonna feel worse."
You pull your arm back. "I'm not going to chase after him."
"Okay."
"I'm not."
She holds her hands up. "Okay."
You stand in the water, salt drying on your skin, and watch the spot where his car was parked until the space is empty. Jess is right. You'd only feel worse, but it doesn’t matter since you already do.
───
The door to your apartment clicks shut behind you and you drop your beach bag on the floor, sand already spilling out onto the tiles. Your shoulders are pink from the sun, your hair still damp and tangled with salt, and all you want is a cold shower and an unhealthy amount of time of scrolling on your phone.
You plug your phone in first because it died somewhere between the volleyball game and the drive home. The screen lights up after a few seconds, and you blink at the notification.
13 missed calls.
All from the same number. It’s unknown.
Your first thought is spam. Your second thought is a wrong number. Your third thought, the one you don't want to acknowledge, is him.
You hesitate for a moment, thumb hovering over the call button, you press “call”.
The line rings four time before going to voicemail. A generic automated voice telling you to leave a message. You hang up without saying anything.
You're about to toss the phone onto your bed when it rings again. The same number. You answer. For a few seconds, no one speaks. There's just a slow and uneven breathing, and something in the background that sounds like a TV.
"Hello?" you say.
Still nothing, so you decide to assume that it’s him.
"I know it's you," you say. "You called me thirteen times. You can at least say something."
A pause and you hear his voice, low and slurred around the edges. "Hey."
Ni-ki.
You close your eyes and lean against your bedroom wall. "You okay?"
"Define okay."
"You're high."
"I guess so."
You can hear him exhale, long and slow, probably smoke. It’s definitely weed. His words are sticky, running into each other like he's thinking too hard about each one before it leaves his mouth.
"I didn't like it," he says suddenly. "Today. At the beach."
Your chest tightens. "Didn't like what?"
"You know what. The way you were with Jake. All close and laughing and..." He trails off, and you hear him take another drag. "Whatever, it doesn't matter. I don't care. You do whatever you want."
"You just said you didn't like it."
"I said it doesn't matter."
The line goes quiet for a moment. You can picture him ; probably sprawled on that massive leather couch in his empty living room, the high ceilings and the chandelier that cost at least a kidney. One hand holding the phone, the other holding whatever he's smoking. His eyes half-closed, looking like a hot disaster.
"I really need you right now," he says, and his voice cracks on the last word.
Your heart does a flip.
"That's not fair," you say quietly.
"I’m sorry."
"You can't just call me when you're high and say stuff like that."
"I know."
Silence. The sound of the TV in the background on his end. You can hear your own breathing.
"Can you come over?" he asks, and he sounds smaller than you've ever heard him. Needy like he never lets himself be. "Please."
You could’ve say no, tell him to sleep it off and call you in the morning when he's sober and less likely to say things he'll pretend didn't happen. You have to protect yourself for once.
And here you are, already grabbing your keys.
───
The drive takes twenty minutes. His house is dark when you pull into the driveway, the only light coming from somewhere deeper inside. The front door is unlocked as it always is, and you let yourself in, kicking off your sandals by the entryway.
The living room is a mess. Everything is scattered. There’s a blanket on the floor, empty glasses on the coffee table and his hoodie draped over the arm of the couch. And there he is, slouched in the corner of the sectional, phone on the cushion beside him, a half smoked joint balanced on the edge of an ashtray.
His eyes are red and his hair is a mess. He looks up at you when you walk in and something in his expression changes. It’s relief, you might think.
"There’s no way you really came," he says like he's surprised.
"You called me thirteen times."
"Right."
You drop your bag by the door and walk over to him. The coffee table has a pitcher of water and some takeout containers from somewhere you don't recognize. You push them aside and sit on the edge of the couch, facing him.
"You're an asshole," you say.
"Yeah."
"Like, genuinely an asshole."
He's not arguing back so that's how you know he's really high.
You reach out and take the joint from the ashtray, stubbing it out even though there's still some left. He watches your hands, your fingers, the way you're sitting close enough that your knee almost touches his.
"When did you eat last?" you ask.
He blinks at you like the question requires calculus. "I don't know. Lunch?"
"It's almost ten."
"Oh."
You sigh and stand up, heading toward the kitchen. His kitchen is massive and spotless and useless because he barely uses it. You find bread, peanut butter, a banana that's not too brown. You make him a sandwich without asking if he wants one because he's not in a state to make good decisions. When you come back, he hasn't moved an inch. You hand him the plate and he stares at it for a second before taking it.
"Eat," you say.
"You're bossy when you're annoyed."
"I'm always annoyed. You just don't notice."
He takes a bite, chews and swallows. His eyes stay on you the whole time.
You sit back down, closer this time, and you watch him eat until half the sandwich is gone. You take the plate away and set it on the coffee table.
"Water," you say, pouring a glass from the pitcher. You hand it to him and he drinks. When he's done, he sets the glass down and leans his head back against the couch, eyes closed. His breathing is slower now.
"You didn't have to come, you know." he says.
"You asked me to."
"Yeah. But you didn't have to."
You look at him ; the dark circles, the dried salt on his skin from the beach he barely touched, the way his hands are trembling just slightly. He's a mess. He's always been a mess, yet he's sitting here, in this big empty house, and he called you. Amongst everyone he knew, he called you.
"Yeah, well," you say quietly. "I'm here anyway so..."
He opens his eyes and turns his head to look at you. His gaze is heavy and unfocused.
"You're gonna stay?" he asks. "For a bit?"
You have to go home, because you have class tomorrow. Your hair is still damp from the ocean and you're tired and you know that staying will only make things more complicated.
"Yeah," you say. "For a bit."
He shifts on the couch, making room, and you take the hint. You sit next to him, close enough that your shoulder presses against his arm, and he doesn't pull away. Neither do you.
After a few minutes, his head drops onto your shoulder. His breathing evens out. He's not asleep, heavy and warm against you.
You stare at the dark windows, the empty room, the ghost of smoke curling from the ashtray.
This isn't going to fix anything. You know that and he knows that. But for now, he's not pushing you away, so everything feels fine.
The high wears off slowly. You notice that his breathing changes, it’s less shallow and more present. His fingers stop trembling too. His head lifts from your shoulder and he blinks at the room like he's seeing it for the first time.
He's still loose, still soft around the edges, but he's coming back to himself. You can feel it.
"You okay?" you ask.
He nods, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm. "Yeah. Starting to feel human again."
"Good."
A silence settles between you, he turns his head, looking at you with those half-lidded eyes, and his voice is quieter when he speaks. "Did you shower yet? After the beach?"
You glance down at yourself. Your skin still has salt residue, your hair is stiff with dried seawater. "No. I came straight here."
He's quiet for a moment. "We could take a bath."
You look at him. His expression isn't teasing like usual, and it’s almost soft.
"A bath ?" you repeat.
"Uh yeah. The tub's big enough." There’s a pause. "We don't have to do anything. I just—I don't want to be alone right now."
That's the most honest thing he's said all night.
You nod. "Okay."
───
Even if you were already used to every corner of his house, you’d never get over how huge his bathroom is. Marble floors, a tub that could fit three people, candles on the counter that he never lights. He runs the water while you sit on the edge of the sink, watching him test the temperature with his wrist.
He's still in his beach clothes ; shorts, a loose t-shirt and a silver chain with a cross that he never takes off. You're in your bikini top and the oversized button-up you threw on over it.
When the tub is full, he turns off the water and looks at you. "You first."
You slide off the sink and step toward the tub, suddenly aware of how exposed you feel even though you've done much more than this with him. You take off your button-up and step out of your shorts, leaving your bikini on the floor. He does the same ; he pulls his shirt over his head, kicks off his shorts and his boxers.
The water is warm, almost too warm, and you sink into it with a sigh. The salt washes off your skin immediately, and you can feel your muscles relaxing. He gets in behind you, settling against the end of the tub, his legs on either side of yours.
For a minute, neither of you speaks. The water ripples softly. A candle flickers, he must have lit it while you weren't looking. You can feel him shifting, moving closer, and his arms come around your waist from behind. He pulls you back against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder.
You freeze for half a second. He's never done this before. The fact of having this kind of moment with him doesn’t even feel real to you. You two have been intimate in so many ways but never like this.
"Is this okay?" he murmurs, breath warm against your neck.
"Yeah," you whisper. "It's okay."
His arms tighten slightly, holding you a little closer. You lean your head back against his shoulder and close your eyes.
This is new and terrifying. This is everything you've wanted without letting yourself admit it, but you know that things like that don’t really last. So you have to accept it.
───
The water starts to cool after a while, his thumb is tracing shapes on your stomach, absent-minded.
You think about what brought you here and how he sounded so small when he said he needed you.
"Ni-ki," you say quietly.
"Mm?"
You hesitate. You don't want to ruin whatever this is. But it's been sitting in your chest since all the times you've watched him disappear into himself.
"Those friends of yours that you mentioned before," you say. "The ones who got you into this stuff."
His hand stops moving.
"I'm not trying to start a fight," you add quickly. "I’m just worrying about you. You said they owe you money…And they're always pushing you to do more."
He's quiet for a long moment.
"They're not in my life anymore," he says finally.
You turn your head slightly, trying to see his face. "What?"
"I cut them off, like, a few weeks ago." His voice is steady and clearer. "They weren't friends. They just wanted someone to pay for everything and someone to get high with. I got tired of it."
You don't know what to say. He's never told you this or anything.
"Why didn't you say something?" you ask.
He shrugs, the movement rippling the water. "Didn't seem important."
"Not important? Ni-ki, they were using you."
"I know but," He presses his cheek against your hair. "That's why I stopped answering their calls. They'll figure it out."
You turn in his arms so you're facing him, knees on either side of his hips, water sloshing against the edges of the tub. His face is inches from yours. You can see that his eyes are tired.
"And the money they owe you?" you ask.
"It's just money." He says it like it means nothing. Or maybe to him, it doesn't. "I'd rather lose that than keep pretending they gave a shit about me."
Your hands find his shoulders, thumbs brushing over his collarbones and he lets you touch him.
"You're not going to fall back into that?" you ask. "When things get hard again?"
He looks at you for a long time.
"No," he says. "You’re here anyway. Everything feels different."
Your heart cracks a little.
"You can't rely on me to fix you," you force yourself to say, because you have to say it, you've seen too many people drown trying to save someone else.
"Y/N," He cups your face with one hand, thumb brushing your cheekbone. "I'm not asking you to fix me. I…I don't want to be alone anymore. It scares me more than you think."
The water is barely warm now. Your knees are starting to ache from the position.
"Okay," you whisper.
He smiles at you softly, and you nearly thought it meant something.
"We should get out," he says. "The water's cold."
"Yeah."
He pulls the plug and grabs a towel from the rack, wrapping it around your shoulders before his own. You step out of the tub together, dripping on the marble floor.
───
7:12 AM and your phone is rattling against the wood of your nighstand like it's trying to wake the dead. You grope for it blindly, eyes half-open and your brain still somewhere in a dream you can't even remember.
Ni-ki's name on the screen.
You answer. "Hello?"
"You sound like shit." His voice is rough like he hasn't slept either.
"Thanks. It's fucking seven in the morning."
"Well, no shit. Get dressed, I'm picking you up in twenty."
You sit up, rubbing your face. The memories from two nights ago flicker through your mind ; the bath, his arms around you. You brush it off as soon as the reality catches you.
You push it all down. "For what?"
"Does it matter?"
You're too tired to fight back. And a part of you, the stupid part, just wants to see his face.
"Fine," you say. "Twenty minutes."
He hangs up with no goodbye. Of course.
You throw on jeans and a sweater, brush your teeth. When you hear the engine outside, low and guttural, you grab your bag and head out. It's not the black Camaro. It's a Mustang GT ; sleek, black, newer than anything you've ever sat in. He's leaning against the driver's door, arms crossed, wearing a leather jacket and that same blank expression.
"New car?" you ask.
"Yeah, got bored of the old one." He opens the passenger door for you. "Get in."
The interior smells new and fresh. You buckle up as he slides into the driver's seat and pulls away from the curb without checking his blind spot. Some things never change. The city is waking up around you, coffee shops opening, joggers on the sidewalk.
You watch his profile, observing the sharp line of his jaw and his thumbs tap against the steering wheel like he usually does everytime he drives.
"You're staring," he says without looking at you.
" Am I not allowed ?"
He doesn't respond to that.
You take a breath. "Ni-ki."
"What."
"Why are you so cold sometimes?"
The question hangs in the air between you. His fingers tighten on the steering wheel before he relaxes.
"You think I'm cold?" he asks.
"Sometimes. You disappear, you push me away and...you say things you don't mean or you don't say anything at all." You're watching his face, looking for a crack. "I just want to know why."
He stays quiet for a long moment. The car slows at a red light and he finally glances at you. His eyes are tired again, that's how you know he smoked on the drive over.
Unexpectedly, the corner of his mouth twitches.
"You're cute when you're curious," he says.
"That's not an answer."
"Well," The light turns green, he accelerates. "I'll work on it."
───
The mall is mostly empty this early. A few senior citizens walking laps around the food court, some moms with strollers, employees unlocking gates. Ni-ki walks next to you, hands in his pockets. His presence is heavy but not uncomfortable. You wander past stores without really looking until one catches your eye ; a vintage thrift shop, the expensive kind with every luxury brands where clothes are curated and priced like art pieces.
You step inside more out of curiosity than intention. The racks are organized by color, the lighting warm, and there's a section in the back with dresses probably worn by celebrities considaring their prices.
Your fingers trail over the fabric ; silk, lace, velvet. One of them catches your eyes. A black dress, slip style but not cheap. It makes you think of old Hollywood movies and rooftop parties in the 60s. The price tag is tucked inside, and when you pull it out you actually laugh.
"300 dollars," you say, turning to Ni-ki. "For a thrifted dress."
He's standing a few feet away, watching you with a neutral expression. "Do you want it?"
"I want a lot of things I can't afford."
"That's not what I asked."
You look back at the dress, running your fingers over the fabric again. "It's gorgeous. But no. It's stupid to spend that much."
He pulls the dress off the rack and walks toward the counter without saying a word.
"Ni-ki. What are you doing?"
"Buying the dress."
"No. Ni-ki, come b─."
He ignores you, pulling out his wallet. The cashier, a girl with pink hair, looks between the two of you with mild amusement.
"Sir, would you like a bag?"
"Yes."
"Ni-ki, I'm serious." You grab his arm, but he doesn't stop. "You can't just buy me things like this."
He turns to look at you, and his face is softer than you expected. "Why not?"
"Because—" You don't even exactly know why. Maybe because it's too much or because it looks like it means something. He nods toward the rack, toward a deep red dress you didn't even realize you touched earlier. "You looked at that one first," he says. "I saw you run your fingers over it before you picked up the black one."
You blink. "You noticed that?"
"You touched it for like five seconds. I have to buy it now."
"That doesn't even make sense."
"Too bad then." He tells the cashier to add the red dress too. She does, wrapping both in tissue paper.
You stand there, mouth slightly open, watching him pay nearly six hundred dollars for two dresses you never asked for.
"Try them on," he says, handing you the bag. "If you don't like them, we'll return them."
You stare at him and he stares back.
"Fine," you mutter, grabbing the bag and heading toward the fitting room.
The room is small, with a full-length mirror and a velvet stool. You pull off your jeans and sweater and slide the black dress over your head. It falls perfectly, hitting just above the knee, hugging your waist, the fabric cool against your skin. You turn in the mirror, and for a second, you don't recognize yourself.
You step out of the fitting room.
Ni-ki is leaning against the wall across from the door, phone in hand. His eyes lift to you, and something shifts in his face. His jaw goes slack for just a moment.
"Well?" you ask, suddenly self conscious.
He looks at you ; up and down, slow, like he's trying to memorize every inch of you.
"You look," he starts then suddenly pauses. "It's fine."
"Just fine?"
He pushes off the wall and walks toward you, close enough that you have to tilt your head up to see his face.
"I should return it," he says, there's a teasing edge to his voice now.
"Why?"
"I don't really feel like fighting someone today."
Your face heats. "Shut up."
"I'm dead serious."
"Stop acting like that."
He almost smiles. "Keep the dress. Both of them."
───
The park is small, tucked between a residential street and a community garden. You're sitting on a bench near the pond, ice cream cones in hand ; his is chocolate, yours is strawberry. The sun is higher now, warm enough to make you take off your sweater.
He eats his ice cream in silence, staring at the water. You watch a duck paddle in circles.
"So," he says, not looking at you. "You and Jake seem close."
Your spoon pauses halfway to your mouth. "We're friends."
"Friends." He says lowly. "You were pretty cozy at the beach. I mean, sharing towels...wrestling in the water, all of that."
You narrow your eyes. "Are you jealous?"
He scoffs. "No."
"You're deflecting."
"I can't be observant ?" He casually takes a bite of his ice cream. "Just saying. He's around a lot."
"He's your friend too."
"Yeah, but he doesn't look at me the way he looks at you."
"Nothing's going on with Jake," you say finally.
He shrugs. "Doesn't matter. You do what you want."
There it is again ; that same line he always falls back on. He's always trying to make it sound normal but it comes out like a permission, you're always feeling like it's a test he's making you take.
"I don't want anything with Jake," you say. "I want—" You stop yourself.
He looks at you, waiting for you to continue.
You look away. "Never mind."
The ice cream drips onto your fingers.
"You have ice cream," he says.
"Where?"
He leans in.
His lips are cold from the chocolate, but his tongue is warm when it swipes across the corner of your mouth. You freeze, and you find him kissing you, deep and slow, his hand coming up to cup the back of your neck. It's not the kind of kiss you share in public, so obviously it surprises you.
When he pulls back, you're breathless. You can feel your face burning.
"What was that for?" you manage.
He shrugs, excluding the fact that his ears are pink. "You had ice cream on your mouth."
"That's not a fucking way to wipe off ice cream."
"It is now."
You stare at him and he stares back, expression carefully neutral, nethertheless you can see the cracks. His fingers are still resting on your neck and he's not pulling away.
"You're such a jerk," you whisper.
"Yeah," he says. "Might get strawberry next time."
You shove him in the chest in embarassement, which made him chuckle slightly.
All of this is not making you think about unanswered calls, the days where he decides to be insanely cold or whether he's going to push you away again. So you try to enjoy it as much as you can.
The sun has dropped behind the trees. The bench has gone from comfortable to uncomfortable about an hour ago. Your tailbone is starting to ache and you've shifted positions at least six times, each time less effective than the last.
"I'm bored," you announce.
Ni-ki glances at you from the other end of the bench, one arm stretched along the back, his ice cream cone long gone. "You're always bored."
"Come on, it's been an hour since we sat here."
He watches you with a half-lidded expression. You stand up and brush off the back of your jeans. "There's a playground over there. Let's go."
"A playground." He says flatly, unimpressed by your idea.
"Yeah. You know...swings, slides, kids stuff. Don't tell me you're too cool for swings."
He doesn't agree yet he stands up anyway.
The playground is maybe fifty meters from the bench, a small fenced area with wood chips instead of sand, a plastic slide that's seen better days, and a set of swings hanging from a metal frame. The chains squeak slightly when the wind blows.
You make a beeline for the swings, feet crunching on the wood chips, and plant yourself on the closest one. The rubber seat is cold through your jeans. You grip the chains and kick off just a little.
"Push me," you say, looking back at him.
He's standing at the edge of the wood chips, hands in his pockets, watching you like you from afar. "Push yourself, you're not a kid."
"That's not the point."
He sighs ; a theatrical and put-upon sound ; but he walks over anyway. He positions himself behind you, hands hovering near your lower back for a moment before he gives a firm shove. The swing arcs forward, the chains rattling, and you let out a small laugh. The air rushes past your face. Behind you, he pushes again, harder this time.
"You know," he says, voice carrying over the squeak of the chains, "I've seen this before. Like in a movie. A guy pushes a girl on the swing. Very romantic."
"It's not that romantic. Trust."
"Mm." There's another push. "In the movie, they usually end up doing it in the bushes after."
You kick your feet out, trying to go higher. "What ?"
"You heard it right."
"You're disgusting."
"You're the one who wanted to come here."
He pushes one more time before he steps back. The swing slows gradually, the arc shrinking until you're just swaying. He walks around and sits down on the swing beside you, the chains groaning under his weight. He's taller than you so his legs stretch out longer, boots dragging in the wood chips.
"Be careful," he says, watching you swing forward again. "You're gonna flip over the bar."
"I'm not even that high."
"You could be."
"You worry too much."
He shakes his head. "I just don't want you to stain my new car if you get yourself hurt."
You push off again, swinging higher this time, the chains straining. The wind whistles past your ears. For a second you feel like you could lift right off the seat and keep going.
"See?" you call out. "I'm fine."
"You're gonna eat shit."
"I don't care."
It's a challenge and he hears it. You see him tense from the corner of your eye. You can feel that he's off his swing, boots crunching toward you, and before you can swing back again, his hands are on your waist.
He catches you mid-arc, steadying you, slowing the momentum. His fingers press into your sides through your sweater. The swing creaks to a halt, your feet finding the wood chips, his body so close that you could feel the heat radiating through his leather jacket.
"I know you care," he says quietly. "You just pretend you don't."
You're looking up at him, your hands still on the chains and his on your waist. The sky is almost dark now and a single light on the playground flickers to life somewhere behind him.
"I don't know," you say. "Maybe I learned from the best."
His thumbs press into your waist, just slightly. Something in his face softens.
"Come on," he says, letting go and stepping back. "It's getting dark."
He doesn't wait for you, already walking toward the path, hands back in his pockets, back to his usual distance.
You watch him for a second, then push off the swing one last time, just to feel the air rush past.
He stops and looks back at you. "Are you coming or not?"
"Yeah," you say, hopping off the swing. "I'm coming."
───
One week after, and he disappeared again without a single text, like he always did, but this time it hurt more than usual. It would've hurt less if you haven't hang out with him like there was a title for what you were for each other. But here you are. The lecture hall is half-empty because it's Friday and no one wants to be here, including the professor. You're slouched in your seat while Jess doodles in the margin of her notebook. The guy in front of you is watching YouTube on his laptop with the brightness all the way down. No one seems to care today.
Your phone buzzes against the desk. You glance at the screen. ‘Ni-ki’
Ni-ki [10:22 AM]
going out of town for the weekend
you can fuck anyone u want
don’t wait for me.
You stare at it for a while. You don't know what to say because there's nothing to say. Why is he giving you permission for something you never asked permission for ?
Jess notices your face. "What?"
You turn the phone toward her. She reads it, and her expression shifts from curious to annoyed.
"That's weird," she says quietly.
"Yeah."
"He found another chick, maybe." She chuckled before going back to her doodles.
You lock the phone and set it face-down on the desk. The rest of the lecture drags and sit there, replaying the message in your head, trying to figure out what it actually means.
───
After class, you wait until you're outside, standing under the covered walkway where the smokers hang out. Jess lingers nearby, pretending to check her phone but definitely listening.
You call him.
It rings four times. You think he's going to ignore it, but then he picks up.
"Hey." His voice is flat, sounding like he’s distracted.
"Ni-ki." You grip your phone tighter. "What was that message?"
"What message."
"The one about me fucking whoever I want."
You hear him exhale ; he’s smoking a cigarette. "Just saying. You have options."
"I don't want options."
He's quiet for a second. "Why not?"
The question catches you off guard. You expected him to brush it off, to say it was nothing, to change the subject but not this.
"Because I don't," you say. "I'd rather not, with anyone else."
Another exhale, his voice lower now. "You make that sound like a bad thing."
"What is that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing." You already know it's not nothing. The tone he takes when he says it ; clipped and distant, it sounds like he’s already out of the conversation.
You lean against the brick wall, watching people stream past with their coffee cups and backpacks. Jess catches your eye and you shake your head slightly.
"Ni-ki," you say, " What's happening ? You've been distant again for a whole week without texting me once, even after you said that you would work on it. Are you fucking someone else ?"
He doesn't answer right away. The silence stretches, and you can hear the faint sound of traffic wherever he is, maybe already driving out of town.
"That's not it," he says finally.
"Then what is it?"
"I don't know." His voice cracks a little. "I’m—I don't know what this is…and I don't know why you keep showing up when I keep being an asshole."
You close your eyes. "Could be that I like assholes."
"You really shouldn't."
"Yeah but that's not your call."
He laughs in frustration. "See? That's the problem. You don't let me push you away. You just keep coming back and I don't know how to handle that."
Your chest aches. "So you're leaving for the weekend because you can't handle me staying?"
"I'm leaving for the weekend because my dad wants to have a conversation about my future and I need to get it over with." He pauses. "The text was...I don't know. A test."
"A test for what?"
"To see if you'd get mad."
"Did I pass?"
"You got mad. So yes." He sighs, and you can hear the exhaustion in it. "I'm sorry. I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not be that guy who sends impulsive texts and pushes people away."
You slide down the wall until you're sitting on the concrete, knees pulled up to your chest. Jess sits down next to you without saying anything, her shoulder warm against yours.
"Just go see your dad," you say. "Text me when you get back."
"You're not going to fuck anyone else?"
"Why do you keep asking me that?"
"Because I need to hear you say it."
You swallow. The words feel too heavy. You say them anyway.
"I don't want anyone else. Just you. Even when you're being an asshole."
Long silence. "Okay. Love you."
"Wait wha—"
He hangs up. And you sit there on the sidewalk with Jess, phone in your lap, trying to process what he just said. You know it’s going to hurt as he doesn’t want you to stay. He’s an asshole and you’re aware of it. But you can’t help but see the broken person he is, wanting to take care of him and give him everything he needs.
───
You've been staring at it for an hour now, counting the seconds between the creaks of the old building settling. The clock on your nightstand says 11:47 PM, then 11:58, then 12:03.
Sunday night. He was supposed to be back by now. He didn't say when exactly, but Thursday to Sunday felt like a window that's already closed.
You checked your phone maybe 40 times since Friday, but no messages nor calls. You're stuck on the same text thread sitting there, his last words about fucking whoever you want that you haven't responded.
Your eyes are heavy but your brain won't shut up. You turn onto your side, then onto your back, then onto your stomach. Everything is wrong.
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you grab it before the second vibration.
Jake's name.
You don't talk to Jake often, maybe a few times in group chats. He's not the type to call you at midnight for no reason.
You answer. "Hello?"
"Hey, Y/N." His voice is different. "Sorry to call so late. You heard from Ni-ki?"
Your stomach drops. "No. Why?"
A pause on his end. You can hear him exhale. "He left Thursday, right? He said he was going to see his dad and was supposed to be back Saturday. It's Sunday now and no one's heard from him. Not me, not Jay, not even Jungwon. His phone's going straight to voicemail."
You sit up, your heart pounding. "Have you tried calling his house?"
"Yeah. No answer. I don't have the landline or whatever. I just have his cell."
You swing your legs over the side of the bed, already standing. "Okay. Let me try something."
"You think he's okay?"
"I don't know." You're pulling on a hoodie, tucking the phone between your ear and shoulder. "I'll call you back."
"Alright. Be careful."
You hang up and immediately dial Ni-ki's number. It rings once, twice, three times. Then voicemail. You call again. It goes straight to voicemail this time. Not even a single ring.
You try one more time but nothing.
The clock says 12:15 now. You stare at your reflection in the dark window. Your own face looks back, pale and anxious.
You text him.
You [12:16 AM]
Hey
Jake said you're not back
Call me when you get this.
Then you lie back down, but you don't sleep.
───
It's Monday morning. You skipped your first class, you could afford to miss.
You take the bus. You don't know why you bother with the bus when he's not there to pick you up, but walking would take an hour and you don't have the patience for that
The house looks the same as always. Big and quiet. The gate is closed but not locked. You push it open and walk up the driveway, the gravel crunching under your sneakers.
You ring the doorbell. The door opens, but not by much. An older man stands there, maybe in his sixties, wearing a simple button-up shirt. You've seen him before, once, maybe twice, always in the background. The butler, you guess or the house manager, something like that.
"Can I help you?" His voice is polite but guarded.
"I'm looking for Ni-ki. His friends haven't heard from him since Thursday." You try to keep your voice steady. "Is he here?"
The butler hesitates. His eyes scan your face, probably deciding if you're worth talking to.
"Mr. Riki is not currently at the residence," he says.
"When will he be back?"
"I'm not at liberty to say."
You feel frustration building in your chest. "Is he okay? Did something happen with his dad?"
The man's expression doesn't change. "I'm afraid I can't discuss the family's private matters."
"Please." Your voice cracks. "I'm not some random person. I'm his...I'm a friend. He's not answering his phone. We're all worried."
The butler looks at you in slience. He then glances over his shoulder, into the dark hallway behind him, before stepping out onto the porch and pulling the door mostly shut behind him.
"He left for his father's estate on Thursday afternoon," the man says quietly like he's not supposed to be telling you this. "There was a scheduled meeting regarding his future. Finances, education, that sort of thing." He pauses. "I have not seen him since. The family's driver returned alone on Saturday."
Your heart drops. "Alone? Where is he?"
"I don't know. I wasn't told." His voice softens slightly. "If you're a friend of his, I would suggest waiting. He tends to...disappear, when things get difficult."
That's totally the opposite reassuring.
"Can you at least tell him I came by?" you ask. "Y/N. He has my number."
The butler nods once. "I'll relay the message."
He steps back inside and closes the door. You stand on the porch for a minute, staring at the wood grain, your hands shaking. Afterwards you turn and walk back down the driveway, gravel biting through the soles of your shoes.
You call Jake on the way to the bus stop. He picks up immediately.
"Anything?" he asks.
"No. He's not there. The butler said the driver came back alone on Saturday." You swallow. "No one knows where he is."
Jake is quiet for a second. "That's not like him."
You want to say that you don't know what's like him anymore. That every time you think you understand, he does something else.
"Yeah," you say instead. "I know."
The bus pulls up. You get on, find a seat by the window, and watch the big house shrink behind you until it's just a smudge in the distance.
───
The best you could was getting to Jess's apartment. You've been sitting on her couch for twenty minutes, not really watching whatever Jake has on the TV, not really listening to Jay argue with him about something related to F1. Your phone is faced down on the coffee table. You stopped checking it an hour ago.
Jess is in the kitchen, the sound of running water and the clink of a mug against the counter. You can smell tea, something herbal.
"You good?" Jay asks from the armchair, not looking at you, because he's learned from Jess that direct eye contact when you're upset makes you clam up.
"No," you say. "But it's fine, I guess."
Jake glances over. "Still no word?"
You shake your head.
The TV is playing some local news channel. A middle-aged woman is talking about a road closure downtown. You tune it out.
Jess comes in with a tray of mugs, setting it on the coffee table. She hands you one without asking if you want it. The mug is warm against your palms.
"Thanks," you murmur.
She sits next to you. "Have you eaten?"
"Not really."
"I'll order something later."
You nod. The TV cuts to a breaking news graphic ; red and white, it seems urgent.
"We're receiving reports of a shooting in the industrial district," the anchor says, her voice steady but grave. "Details are limited, but we understand the altercation occurred around 2:00 this afternoon and involved individuals associated with drug dealing and money laundering operations in the area."
Jake whistles low. "Damn. That part of town is getting worse."
Jay shushes him.
"One person has been confirmed shot," the anchor continues. "According to sources close to the investigation, the victim is reportedly a tall male in his early twenties. He is believed to be the son of a prominent entrepreneur in the region. Authorities have not released a name pending family notification, but we have obtained a photo from witnesses who apparently recognized the victim during the scene."
The screen cuts to a photograph.
Your hand freezes around the mug.
It's him. Ni-ki. The photo is from some event ; he's in a dark jacket, looking off to the side, jaw set, eyes half-lidded.
"The victim's identity has not been officially confirmed," the anchor says as text scrolls across the bottom of the screen. "However, our sources indicate that the body has not yet been recovered from the scene. Police are continuing their investigation."
The mug slips from your fingers. It hits the coffee table and tea spills everywhere, soaking a magazine, dripping onto the carpet. You're staring at the screen, at his face, at the words scrolling past.
Body not recovered.
Jess grabs your arm. "Y/N. Y/N, breathe."
Jake is standing now, phone already in his hand, calling Jungwon. Jay is frozen, eyes wide, looking between you and the TV, still not believing what he saw. The anchor moves on to the next story and the graphic disappears. The screen fills with footage of a city council meeting.
You don't remember standing up but you're on your feet now, and the room is spinning, Jess is saying your name over and over, and all you can think is : His body hasn't been found.
Which means he could be alive, or he could be dead.
[Everyone who reads Gachiakuta will probably understand this, but I also don’t really want to spoil what happens. I’m just tense and hoping for the next chapter. Enjin, please, the children miss you. This took way too long.]
This artwork is mine. Do not repost it somewhere, or claim it as your own. Reblogs are appreciated!
Read the prologue first to get a handle of the story.
Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon)
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
tw: smut, oral (f! receiving) , use of tobacco , alcohol, angst.
wc: 2.5 k
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
10 minutes have passed since I’ve joined their table. Apparently , to my surprise; these people were more bearable than Tamsy and Delmon. I’ve come to know the two blondes. Enjin and Gris . Then there was Zanka and Riyou , some kids Enjin recruited. They were so close that you’d say that they were his adopted children.
“So— how is it in the North Branch?” Says Enjin as he lights another cigarette. Inhaling the smoke then exhaling it.
“Not much different from here—“ I answer anxiously as I fidget a little with my fingers. “It’s just somehow smaller than this place , and usually colder..” I mumble as I look back at his face. He look at me while he takes a drag from the cigarette then nods “Heard at least that about it.” He exhales the smoke while looking at me then away .
“With that weather change I doubt the place won’t freeze ‘till mid spring.” Says Gris as he pats my back apologetically . Did they really pity us for such a minor thing?
“Regardless of that— most of the stuff there will need to be replaced if it actually freezes that bad; or if trash beasts destroy it themselves.” Zanka joins into the topic. “But hey that means you can move in here!” Riyou tries to be positive.
“Yeah..” I huff as I look down at my drink. My friend is here, sure, but what about Myu, it will be hard to hear from her if that happens.
As if Enjin sensed my nervousness he shots Riyou a glare. I quickly catch it and take Riyou’s side “You don’t have to look like that at her.. my mom’s at the South branch. I don’t have anything remaining there.” I gesture him that nothing’s too much of a burden for me.
Enjin looks at me for a second then chuckles. “If you say so..” with that he gets up and pats my head softly “Make yourself at home” he grins before he leaves out the huge door.
After chatting for 1 hour at the table, getting to know Tamsy and Delmon, even though Gris started to grow on me. He was always so nice and I couldn’t help but feel the same warmth I felt from Myu when I first met her. Something familiar in an unfamiliar place.
My first week there wasn’t bad, taking care of a trash beast here, another small infestation there. Same old routine.
“I’ve never seen a vital instrument like yours before, it feels unique” says Follo .
“I’d love to know the story behind it someday.” Adds Tomme, not really butting into my past. She knew someone’s past wasn’t to be revealed unless they do it themselves— so, until then— no questions. And obviously I respected that.
After parting ways with the supporters I go to chat with Semiu. To my disgusting surprise that woman was digging into porn magazines once again. I look down at her with a blunt expression, waiting for her to notice me.
“Oh, didn’t see you there.” She says nonchalantly, skipping a page.
“You’re really going to read that magazine with me here…?” I pout my words in a mumble , pointing at her directly.
“Everyone’s got their own pleasures, kid.” A manly voice interrupts. Enjin. I look up at him, who surprisingly wasn’t in his uniform but more like going out clothes. “What’cha got there girl.” He says trying to peak into Semiu’s magazine.
“Get your own magazine, Enjin.” She groans . Clearly annoyed by the man.
“Aww c‘mon. Don’t be so cruel , we’re friends, friends share!” He snorts, a shit eating grin appearing on his face.
I chuckle at the interaction and Enjin remembers I was actually there. “What are you up to for the weekend— uhh, Haruhana..— right?” He says ashamed that he didn’t remember my name.
“Yeah, that’s how it’s spelled— and nothing much, maybe I’ll just enjoy myself around.” I mumble while resting my elbows on the desk. “You?”
“Going to charm the ladies.” He winks. My face drops.
“Not again…” Semiu mumbles to herself.
“That seems fun..” I try to keep my smile.
“You guys are making me feel like a whore.” He starts whining as he rest his upper body on the desk, his right arm falling over his head.
“Cause that’s what you are.” Semiu adds and I cover my mouth so I don’t end up laughing.
“Ehhh, what are you trying not to laugh at!?” He scolds me.
“Nothing, Nothing.” I brush him off.
“Acting like you guys don’t enjoy sex or something…” oh gosh… “ How are you even, should we even talk about this around—“
“What are you even talking about! I’m literally 21!!” I shout at him annoyed.
“Huuuuuhhhh??!!!” He gasps, jaw dropping . “I thought you were the same age as Zanka!?” I raise an eyebrow .
“Oh goshhh…” Semiu groans as she rubs her temples.
“I don’t even look that young.” I whine. “Plus there is no difference at all in looks between 17 and 21…”
Enjin gave an apologetic smile as he straightened his posture. We chat for some more 10 minutes. Enjin wasn’t that bad to get along with— even though it felt that even at his 28 years of life, he was acting usually childish. Maybe too silly for his serious age. With a wave and dismissal he leaves in a happy pace towards the door, ready for a night hoeing around with ladies. If only his bad humor would help him. Doubt he knows how to flirt.
Besides Enjin being a community dick, me and Semiu went into a more reserved office and drank some wine together. Catching up on everything we’ve lost of each other’s life.
“I’ve had like— 2 girlfriends since I last saw you.” She says while sipping from the wine.
“Have you met some guys of your liking? I know you’re really picky.” I look down at my wine.
“Not really— it’s just— you know… and I’ve told you—“
“It’s okay.” She stops me . “I don’t want you to think of that ever again. It’s in the past. And you’re here, in the future, and that’s what you should think about only.” She comforts me, like old times, when we’d sit, drink alcohol behind Myu’s back and I’d tell her about my past. Semiu would look at me and brush her fingers through my hair , not interrupting any sentence. This evening wasn’t any different, only the fact that we were more mature, grown women.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
At the bar, Enjin takes a sip from his beer , then smoking, then drinking again. Gris joins him. “You’re awfully calm .” He remarks how Enjin was sitting calmly at the bar.
“Got something on my mind.”
“Someone you mean?”
“She’s just, curvy in all the right places.. plumpy..” he pauses. “And I really want to take a bite out of that plum—“
“Okay that’s cringe and enough.” Gris shakes his head as he laughs.
Enjin returns the laugh.
“It’s just that none of the women here seem my type y’know? And the only one that met the physical demands is there.”
“I think it’s better you keep it in your pants this time.” They both laugh at each other.
3 a.m.
Gosh I am so thirsty. I feel my neck go dry as I get up to get some water, or soda from the cafeteria. I put on an oversized blouse over my shorts and walk towards the cafeteria, they usually had the sodas there in a fridge so I could help myself with one. On my way there I see a familiar sillouette coming towards me.
“Got no sleep?” Enjin mocks, making his way towards me with that charming grin he had.
“No, not that, just woke up thirsty.” I say lowly , almost in a whisper as to not wake anyone up.
“You’re going to the cafeteria? I’ll come with ya.” He tilts his head in the way I was walking. We walk there in silence, then slowly open the doors . Craaackk. Gosh these needed to be oiled up.
“How comes you’re not still in the city?” I say something that was clearly not my bussiness, just to make conversation.
“Didn’t saw anything I liked really..” he mutters as I walk in front of him towards the fridge. Enjin looks me up and down from behind— tilting his head slightly just to peak at my ass a little , without me knowing. He pouts and whistles in his mind .
“Then maybe you’ll like something from here…” I mumble as I open the fridge. Getting some random soda can before leaving it open for him to choose his own. Oh clearly he already likes something from there, but that wasn’t not in that old rusty fridge.
Enjin grabs a can and we both sit down at a table. I take a pack of cigarettes and I open it carefully. Before lighting one myself I offer him one.
“Ya smoke?” He says somehow surprised. “Y’know it’s not good for you.”
I roll my eyes at the remark. “You smoke all the time..” I mumble with the cigarette in my mouth; ready to light it up. To my surprise Enjin refuses it, taking his own.
“You’re quite the person who likes sharing…” he says while lighting up his cigarette.
“I’ve been an only child, so sharing was something I always somehow longed to do..” I say before taking a drag for the cig.
“I see…” he looks me up and down again.
“Sooo..” I say trying to make it less awkward. “How was your night out?”
Enjin looks at me , taking another drag before speaking again. “Decent… but no fun tonight, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” He chuckles . “What have you and Semiu been up to since i left?”
“Nothing much, drinking wine and catching up.” I exhale the smoke.
“Mhmm.” He moans that mhm that I feel my thighs getting that weird feeling.
“There were no ladies of my taste..” he whines . Such a random turn up of the topic that it left me stunned for a few seconds.
“What’s your type then..?” Stupid ass idiot , with that running mouth of yours who was just as fucking stupid as you.
“To be honest..” he pauses to smoke then exhales. “Good looking chicks, curvy…” he takes another drag— then exhales. “Not too clingy or needy … that annoys me— and not high maintenance” I nod at him as I leave my finished cig in the ashtray .
“Yours?” He suddenly adds up. Of course he would’ve.
“To be honest.. just mature men.. other than that I’m good.” Enjin looks a bit surprised.
“That’s all?”
“Yeah; why?”
“You’re not too picky huh. Just straight forward.”
“I mean. That should be the point.”
“But don’t you—?”
“No.” I interrupt him. “I’m not the type.”
Enjin looks at me with a hurtful pout as if I had just called him a whore. Which I would’ve, and maybe did.
“I’m not pointing at you, don’t worry. I’m just not really the type.” I giggle and Enjin gives me a genuine smile.
After finishing our drinks, Enjin walks with me to my room since we stayed on the same hall. Before reaching for the door handle I hear Enjin
“Haru.” We were having nicknames already.. I see.
“Hm?” I turn to him .
I feel him towering over me a little before reaching for some hair strand that was laying on my face, then turning that into his face cupping my left cheek with his right hand.
My face heats up as he leans in. “Enjin.” I say bluntly and he stops.
“Gosh you never shut that cheeky mouth of yours do you?”
With that Enjin cups my face, his face closing into mine, askimg me for permission with his eyes. And I give in, for what it felt like 2 minutes.
“I’m sorry.” I cup his face and I pull away.
“Wha-?”
“Goodnight Enjin.”
I turn to open the door then close it. What has gotten into me. I’ve barely known him. He is probably just some dude trying to get into my pants after all. He wouldn’t kiss me this soon!
I slap my face a little and go straight into bed. I need to sleep this off, it will only end bad on my side… it always did before.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
I turn and huff in bed, rubbing my face, rolling my hips. Something felts off.. and warm. I look down to see Enjin. Who was having the time of his life inbetween my legs.
“Gosh mama you taste s’good.” He moans into my wet and sloppy cunt. His nose rubbing up and down on my clit as he slurps and sucks on my juice without any shame.
“You ask me to come this late in your room just to get what you crave for..?” He pulls away, his face wet like a dog who just digged into his food like he has been starved.
“Enjin—“ I try say something but he dives right back in. High pitched moans leave my mouth and I feel my throat go dry. His tongue goes deeper into my cunt, searching for my sweet spot.
“So slutty, wishing for my tongue and fingers so deep inside of you that you call for me at this hour…” he mocks me again . I try to escape the extreme pleasure I was feeling,
“Enjin— how… when..” I whine as I feel his left arm wrap around my hips, keeping them from moving.
“You’re so melted on my tongue that you forgot calling me , mama?” He chuckles .
Gosh I don’t ever remember, but all I could think of was the way he was eating me out, how he was so into it that his hands went down to his boxers to jerk himself off. His tip now red from all the blood pumping into his cock. Gosh he was big, gifted in both girth and length. His precum dropping drastically as he jerked his hips into his own grip. As he keeps doing his tricks with his tongue , I can feel something in my belly, as if I was going to erupt all over him. I started moaning loudly, then—.
The light of the sunrise creeps up on my face. Waking me up slowly. What was— I check myself, my shorts drenched . Was I…? No I wasn’t…
Was I really having wet dreams already over some sexy ass dude I’ve just met almost 2 weeks ago… over a kiss..!
Hell….
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Note: sooooo, I was supposed to post this like— 2 days ago but this works as well . If their interaction feel rushed, well they should feel like that and that will make sense as I get deeper with the lore for their own stories so that whatever will happen in the future parts will make sense .
PLEASE don’t steal my work nor feed it to AI or even chat bots. . Ty very much :3 !!
Read the prologue first to get a handle of the story.
Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon)
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
tw: smut, oral (f! receiving) , use of tobacco , alcohol, angst.
wc: 2.5 k
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
10 minutes have passed since I’ve joined their table. Apparently , to my surprise; these people were more bearable than Tamsy and Delmon. I’ve come to know the two blondes. Enjin and Gris . Then there was Zanka and Riyou , some kids Enjin recruited. They were so close that you’d say that they were his adopted children.
“So— how is it in the North Branch?” Says Enjin as he lights another cigarette. Inhaling the smoke then exhaling it.
“Not much different from here—“ I answer anxiously as I fidget a little with my fingers. “It’s just somehow smaller than this place , and usually colder..” I mumble as I look back at his face. He look at me while he takes a drag from the cigarette then nods “Heard at least that about it.” He exhales the smoke while looking at me then away .
“With that weather change I doubt the place won’t freeze ‘till mid spring.” Says Gris as he pats my back apologetically . Did they really pity us for such a minor thing?
“Regardless of that— most of the stuff there will need to be replaced if it actually freezes that bad; or if trash beasts destroy it themselves.” Zanka joins into the topic. “But hey that means you can move in here!” Riyou tries to be positive.
“Yeah..” I huff as I look down at my drink. My friend is here, sure, but what about Myu, it will be hard to hear from her if that happens.
As if Enjin sensed my nervousness he shots Riyou a glare. I quickly catch it and take Riyou’s side “You don’t have to look like that at her.. my mom’s at the South branch. I don’t have anything remaining there.” I gesture him that nothing’s too much of a burden for me.
Enjin looks at me for a second then chuckles. “If you say so..” with that he gets up and pats my head softly “Make yourself at home” he grins before he leaves out the huge door.
After chatting for 1 hour at the table, getting to know Tamsy and Delmon, even though Gris started to grow on me. He was always so nice and I couldn’t help but feel the same warmth I felt from Myu when I first met her. Something familiar in an unfamiliar place.
My first week there wasn’t bad, taking care of a trash beast here, another small infestation there. Same old routine.
“I’ve never seen a vital instrument like yours before, it feels unique” says Follo .
“I’d love to know the story behind it someday.” Adds Tomme, not really butting into my past. She knew someone’s past wasn’t to be revealed unless they do it themselves— so, until then— no questions. And obviously I respected that.
After parting ways with the supporters I go to chat with Semiu. To my disgusting surprise that woman was digging into porn magazines once again. I look down at her with a blunt expression, waiting for her to notice me.
“Oh, didn’t see you there.” She says nonchalantly, skipping a page.
“You’re really going to read that magazine with me here…?” I pout my words in a mumble , pointing at her directly.
“Everyone’s got their own pleasures, kid.” A manly voice interrupts. Enjin. I look up at him, who surprisingly wasn’t in his uniform but more like going out clothes. “What’cha got there girl.” He says trying to peak into Semiu’s magazine.
“Get your own magazine, Enjin.” She groans . Clearly annoyed by the man.
“Aww c‘mon. Don’t be so cruel , we’re friends, friends share!” He snorts, a shit eating grin appearing on his face.
I chuckle at the interaction and Enjin remembers I was actually there. “What are you up to for the weekend— uhh, Haruhana..— right?” He says ashamed that he didn’t remember my name.
“Yeah, that’s how it’s spelled— and nothing much, maybe I’ll just enjoy myself around.” I mumble while resting my elbows on the desk. “You?”
“Going to charm the ladies.” He winks. My face drops.
“Not again…” Semiu mumbles to herself.
“That seems fun..” I try to keep my smile.
“You guys are making me feel like a whore.” He starts whining as he rest his upper body on the desk, his right arm falling over his head.
“Cause that’s what you are.” Semiu adds and I cover my mouth so I don’t end up laughing.
“Ehhh, what are you trying not to laugh at!?” He scolds me.
“Nothing, Nothing.” I brush him off.
“Acting like you guys don’t enjoy sex or something…” oh gosh… “ How are you even, should we even talk about this around—“
“What are you even talking about! I’m literally 21!!” I shout at him annoyed.
“Huuuuuhhhh??!!!” He gasps, jaw dropping . “I thought you were the same age as Zanka!?” I raise an eyebrow .
“Oh goshhh…” Semiu groans as she rubs her temples.
“I don’t even look that young.” I whine. “Plus there is no difference at all in looks between 17 and 21…”
Enjin gave an apologetic smile as he straightened his posture. We chat for some more 10 minutes. Enjin wasn’t that bad to get along with— even though it felt that even at his 28 years of life, he was acting usually childish. Maybe too silly for his serious age. With a wave and dismissal he leaves in a happy pace towards the door, ready for a night hoeing around with ladies. If only his bad humor would help him. Doubt he knows how to flirt.
Besides Enjin being a community dick, me and Semiu went into a more reserved office and drank some wine together. Catching up on everything we’ve lost of each other’s life.
“I’ve had like— 2 girlfriends since I last saw you.” She says while sipping from the wine.
“Have you met some guys of your liking? I know you’re really picky.” I look down at my wine.
“Not really— it’s just— you know… and I’ve told you—“
“It’s okay.” She stops me . “I don’t want you to think of that ever again. It’s in the past. And you’re here, in the future, and that’s what you should think about only.” She comforts me, like old times, when we’d sit, drink alcohol behind Myu’s back and I’d tell her about my past. Semiu would look at me and brush her fingers through my hair , not interrupting any sentence. This evening wasn’t any different, only the fact that we were more mature, grown women.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
At the bar, Enjin takes a sip from his beer , then smoking, then drinking again. Gris joins him. “You’re awfully calm .” He remarks how Enjin was sitting calmly at the bar.
“Got something on my mind.”
“Someone you mean?”
“She’s just, curvy in all the right places.. plumpy..” he pauses. “And I really want to take a bite out of that plum—“
“Okay that’s cringe and enough.” Gris shakes his head as he laughs.
Enjin returns the laugh.
“It’s just that none of the women here seem my type y’know? And the only one that met the physical demands is there.”
“I think it’s better you keep it in your pants this time.” They both laugh at each other.
3 a.m.
Gosh I am so thirsty. I feel my neck go dry as I get up to get some water, or soda from the cafeteria. I put on an oversized blouse over my shorts and walk towards the cafeteria, they usually had the sodas there in a fridge so I could help myself with one. On my way there I see a familiar sillouette coming towards me.
“Got no sleep?” Enjin mocks, making his way towards me with that charming grin he had.
“No, not that, just woke up thirsty.” I say lowly , almost in a whisper as to not wake anyone up.
“You’re going to the cafeteria? I’ll come with ya.” He tilts his head in the way I was walking. We walk there in silence, then slowly open the doors . Craaackk. Gosh these needed to be oiled up.
“How comes you’re not still in the city?” I say something that was clearly not my bussiness, just to make conversation.
“Didn’t saw anything I liked really..” he mutters as I walk in front of him towards the fridge. Enjin looks me up and down from behind— tilting his head slightly just to peak at my ass a little , without me knowing. He pouts and whistles in his mind .
“Then maybe you’ll like something from here…” I mumble as I open the fridge. Getting some random soda can before leaving it open for him to choose his own. Oh clearly he already likes something from there, but that wasn’t not in that old rusty fridge.
Enjin grabs a can and we both sit down at a table. I take a pack of cigarettes and I open it carefully. Before lighting one myself I offer him one.
“Ya smoke?” He says somehow surprised. “Y’know it’s not good for you.”
I roll my eyes at the remark. “You smoke all the time..” I mumble with the cigarette in my mouth; ready to light it up. To my surprise Enjin refuses it, taking his own.
“You’re quite the person who likes sharing…” he says while lighting up his cigarette.
“I’ve been an only child, so sharing was something I always somehow longed to do..” I say before taking a drag for the cig.
“I see…” he looks me up and down again.
“Sooo..” I say trying to make it less awkward. “How was your night out?”
Enjin looks at me , taking another drag before speaking again. “Decent… but no fun tonight, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” He chuckles . “What have you and Semiu been up to since i left?”
“Nothing much, drinking wine and catching up.” I exhale the smoke.
“Mhmm.” He moans that mhm that I feel my thighs getting that weird feeling.
“There were no ladies of my taste..” he whines . Such a random turn up of the topic that it left me stunned for a few seconds.
“What’s your type then..?” Stupid ass idiot , with that running mouth of yours who was just as fucking stupid as you.
“To be honest..” he pauses to smoke then exhales. “Good looking chicks, curvy…” he takes another drag— then exhales. “Not too clingy or needy … that annoys me— and not high maintenance” I nod at him as I leave my finished cig in the ashtray .
“Yours?” He suddenly adds up. Of course he would’ve.
“To be honest.. just mature men.. other than that I’m good.” Enjin looks a bit surprised.
“That’s all?”
“Yeah; why?”
“You’re not too picky huh. Just straight forward.”
“I mean. That should be the point.”
“But don’t you—?”
“No.” I interrupt him. “I’m not the type.”
Enjin looks at me with a hurtful pout as if I had just called him a whore. Which I would’ve, and maybe did.
“I’m not pointing at you, don’t worry. I’m just not really the type.” I giggle and Enjin gives me a genuine smile.
After finishing our drinks, Enjin walks with me to my room since we stayed on the same hall. Before reaching for the door handle I hear Enjin
“Haru.” We were having nicknames already.. I see.
“Hm?” I turn to him .
I feel him towering over me a little before reaching for some hair strand that was laying on my face, then turning that into his face cupping my left cheek with his right hand.
My face heats up as he leans in. “Enjin.” I say bluntly and he stops.
“Gosh you never shut that cheeky mouth of yours do you?”
With that Enjin cups my face, his face closing into mine, askimg me for permission with his eyes. And I give in, for what it felt like 2 minutes.
“I’m sorry.” I cup his face and I pull away.
“Wha-?”
“Goodnight Enjin.”
I turn to open the door then close it. What has gotten into me. I’ve barely known him. He is probably just some dude trying to get into my pants after all. He wouldn’t kiss me this soon!
I slap my face a little and go straight into bed. I need to sleep this off, it will only end bad on my side… it always did before.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
I turn and huff in bed, rubbing my face, rolling my hips. Something felts off.. and warm. I look down to see Enjin. Who was having the time of his life inbetween my legs.
“Gosh mama you taste s’good.” He moans into my wet and sloppy cunt. His nose rubbing up and down on my clit as he slurps and sucks on my juice without any shame.
“You ask me to come this late in your room just to get what you crave for..?” He pulls away, his face wet like a dog who just digged into his food like he has been starved.
“Enjin—“ I try say something but he dives right back in. High pitched moans leave my mouth and I feel my throat go dry. His tongue goes deeper into my cunt, searching for my sweet spot.
“So slutty, wishing for my tongue and fingers so deep inside of you that you call for me at this hour…” he mocks me again . I try to escape the extreme pleasure I was feeling,
“Enjin— how… when..” I whine as I feel his left arm wrap around my hips, keeping them from moving.
“You’re so melted on my tongue that you forgot calling me , mama?” He chuckles .
Gosh I don’t ever remember, but all I could think of was the way he was eating me out, how he was so into it that his hands went down to his boxers to jerk himself off. His tip now red from all the blood pumping into his cock. Gosh he was big, gifted in both girth and length. His precum dropping drastically as he jerked his hips into his own grip. As he keeps doing his tricks with his tongue , I can feel something in my belly, as if I was going to erupt all over him. I started moaning loudly, then—.
The light of the sunrise creeps up on my face. Waking me up slowly. What was— I check myself, my shorts drenched . Was I…? No I wasn’t…
Was I really having wet dreams already over some sexy ass dude I’ve just met almost 2 weeks ago… over a kiss..!
Hell….
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Note: sooooo, I was supposed to post this like— 2 days ago but this works as well . If their interaction feel rushed, well they should feel like that and that will make sense as I get deeper with the lore for their own stories so that whatever will happen in the future parts will make sense .
PLEASE don’t steal my work nor feed it to AI or even chat bots. . Ty very much :3 !!
Read the prologue first to get a handle of the story.
Part 1 | Part 2 (coming soon)
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
tw: smut, oral (f! receiving) , use of tobacco , alcohol, angst.
wc: 2.5 k
───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
10 minutes have passed since I’ve joined their table. Apparently , to my surprise; these people were more bearable than Tamsy and Delmon. I’ve come to know the two blondes. Enjin and Gris . Then there was Zanka and Riyou , some kids Enjin recruited. They were so close that you’d say that they were his adopted children.
“So— how is it in the North Branch?” Says Enjin as he lights another cigarette. Inhaling the smoke then exhaling it.
“Not much different from here—“ I answer anxiously as I fidget a little with my fingers. “It’s just somehow smaller than this place , and usually colder..” I mumble as I look back at his face. He look at me while he takes a drag from the cigarette then nods “Heard at least that about it.” He exhales the smoke while looking at me then away .
“With that weather change I doubt the place won’t freeze ‘till mid spring.” Says Gris as he pats my back apologetically . Did they really pity us for such a minor thing?
“Regardless of that— most of the stuff there will need to be replaced if it actually freezes that bad; or if trash beasts destroy it themselves.” Zanka joins into the topic. “But hey that means you can move in here!” Riyou tries to be positive.
“Yeah..” I huff as I look down at my drink. My friend is here, sure, but what about Myu, it will be hard to hear from her if that happens.
As if Enjin sensed my nervousness he shots Riyou a glare. I quickly catch it and take Riyou’s side “You don’t have to look like that at her.. my mom’s at the South branch. I don’t have anything remaining there.” I gesture him that nothing’s too much of a burden for me.
Enjin looks at me for a second then chuckles. “If you say so..” with that he gets up and pats my head softly “Make yourself at home” he grins before he leaves out the huge door.
After chatting for 1 hour at the table, getting to know Tamsy and Delmon, even though Gris started to grow on me. He was always so nice and I couldn’t help but feel the same warmth I felt from Myu when I first met her. Something familiar in an unfamiliar place.
My first week there wasn’t bad, taking care of a trash beast here, another small infestation there. Same old routine.
“I’ve never seen a vital instrument like yours before, it feels unique” says Follo .
“I’d love to know the story behind it someday.” Adds Tomme, not really butting into my past. She knew someone’s past wasn’t to be revealed unless they do it themselves— so, until then— no questions. And obviously I respected that.
After parting ways with the supporters I go to chat with Semiu. To my disgusting surprise that woman was digging into porn magazines once again. I look down at her with a blunt expression, waiting for her to notice me.
“Oh, didn’t see you there.” She says nonchalantly, skipping a page.
“You’re really going to read that magazine with me here…?” I pout my words in a mumble , pointing at her directly.
“Everyone’s got their own pleasures, kid.” A manly voice interrupts. Enjin. I look up at him, who surprisingly wasn’t in his uniform but more like going out clothes. “What’cha got there girl.” He says trying to peak into Semiu’s magazine.
“Get your own magazine, Enjin.” She groans . Clearly annoyed by the man.
“Aww c‘mon. Don’t be so cruel , we’re friends, friends share!” He snorts, a shit eating grin appearing on his face.
I chuckle at the interaction and Enjin remembers I was actually there. “What are you up to for the weekend— uhh, Haruhana..— right?” He says ashamed that he didn’t remember my name.
“Yeah, that’s how it’s spelled— and nothing much, maybe I’ll just enjoy myself around.” I mumble while resting my elbows on the desk. “You?”
“Going to charm the ladies.” He winks. My face drops.
“Not again…” Semiu mumbles to herself.
“That seems fun..” I try to keep my smile.
“You guys are making me feel like a whore.” He starts whining as he rest his upper body on the desk, his right arm falling over his head.
“Cause that’s what you are.” Semiu adds and I cover my mouth so I don’t end up laughing.
“Ehhh, what are you trying not to laugh at!?” He scolds me.
“Nothing, Nothing.” I brush him off.
“Acting like you guys don’t enjoy sex or something…” oh gosh… “ How are you even, should we even talk about this around—“
“What are you even talking about! I’m literally 21!!” I shout at him annoyed.
“Huuuuuhhhh??!!!” He gasps, jaw dropping . “I thought you were the same age as Zanka!?” I raise an eyebrow .
“Oh goshhh…” Semiu groans as she rubs her temples.
“I don’t even look that young.” I whine. “Plus there is no difference at all in looks between 17 and 21…”
Enjin gave an apologetic smile as he straightened his posture. We chat for some more 10 minutes. Enjin wasn’t that bad to get along with— even though it felt that even at his 28 years of life, he was acting usually childish. Maybe too silly for his serious age. With a wave and dismissal he leaves in a happy pace towards the door, ready for a night hoeing around with ladies. If only his bad humor would help him. Doubt he knows how to flirt.
Besides Enjin being a community dick, me and Semiu went into a more reserved office and drank some wine together. Catching up on everything we’ve lost of each other’s life.
“I’ve had like— 2 girlfriends since I last saw you.” She says while sipping from the wine.
“Have you met some guys of your liking? I know you’re really picky.” I look down at my wine.
“Not really— it’s just— you know… and I’ve told you—“
“It’s okay.” She stops me . “I don’t want you to think of that ever again. It’s in the past. And you’re here, in the future, and that’s what you should think about only.” She comforts me, like old times, when we’d sit, drink alcohol behind Myu’s back and I’d tell her about my past. Semiu would look at me and brush her fingers through my hair , not interrupting any sentence. This evening wasn’t any different, only the fact that we were more mature, grown women.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
At the bar, Enjin takes a sip from his beer , then smoking, then drinking again. Gris joins him. “You’re awfully calm .” He remarks how Enjin was sitting calmly at the bar.
“Got something on my mind.”
“Someone you mean?”
“She’s just, curvy in all the right places.. plumpy..” he pauses. “And I really want to take a bite out of that plum—“
“Okay that’s cringe and enough.” Gris shakes his head as he laughs.
Enjin returns the laugh.
“It’s just that none of the women here seem my type y’know? And the only one that met the physical demands is there.”
“I think it’s better you keep it in your pants this time.” They both laugh at each other.
3 a.m.
Gosh I am so thirsty. I feel my neck go dry as I get up to get some water, or soda from the cafeteria. I put on an oversized blouse over my shorts and walk towards the cafeteria, they usually had the sodas there in a fridge so I could help myself with one. On my way there I see a familiar sillouette coming towards me.
“Got no sleep?” Enjin mocks, making his way towards me with that charming grin he had.
“No, not that, just woke up thirsty.” I say lowly , almost in a whisper as to not wake anyone up.
“You’re going to the cafeteria? I’ll come with ya.” He tilts his head in the way I was walking. We walk there in silence, then slowly open the doors . Craaackk. Gosh these needed to be oiled up.
“How comes you’re not still in the city?” I say something that was clearly not my bussiness, just to make conversation.
“Didn’t saw anything I liked really..” he mutters as I walk in front of him towards the fridge. Enjin looks me up and down from behind— tilting his head slightly just to peak at my ass a little , without me knowing. He pouts and whistles in his mind .
“Then maybe you’ll like something from here…” I mumble as I open the fridge. Getting some random soda can before leaving it open for him to choose his own. Oh clearly he already likes something from there, but that wasn’t not in that old rusty fridge.
Enjin grabs a can and we both sit down at a table. I take a pack of cigarettes and I open it carefully. Before lighting one myself I offer him one.
“Ya smoke?” He says somehow surprised. “Y’know it’s not good for you.”
I roll my eyes at the remark. “You smoke all the time..” I mumble with the cigarette in my mouth; ready to light it up. To my surprise Enjin refuses it, taking his own.
“You’re quite the person who likes sharing…” he says while lighting up his cigarette.
“I’ve been an only child, so sharing was something I always somehow longed to do..” I say before taking a drag for the cig.
“I see…” he looks me up and down again.
“Sooo..” I say trying to make it less awkward. “How was your night out?”
Enjin looks at me , taking another drag before speaking again. “Decent… but no fun tonight, otherwise I wouldn’t be here.” He chuckles . “What have you and Semiu been up to since i left?”
“Nothing much, drinking wine and catching up.” I exhale the smoke.
“Mhmm.” He moans that mhm that I feel my thighs getting that weird feeling.
“There were no ladies of my taste..” he whines . Such a random turn up of the topic that it left me stunned for a few seconds.
“What’s your type then..?” Stupid ass idiot , with that running mouth of yours who was just as fucking stupid as you.
“To be honest..” he pauses to smoke then exhales. “Good looking chicks, curvy…” he takes another drag— then exhales. “Not too clingy or needy … that annoys me— and not high maintenance” I nod at him as I leave my finished cig in the ashtray .
“Yours?” He suddenly adds up. Of course he would’ve.
“To be honest.. just mature men.. other than that I’m good.” Enjin looks a bit surprised.
“That’s all?”
“Yeah; why?”
“You’re not too picky huh. Just straight forward.”
“I mean. That should be the point.”
“But don’t you—?”
“No.” I interrupt him. “I’m not the type.”
Enjin looks at me with a hurtful pout as if I had just called him a whore. Which I would’ve, and maybe did.
“I’m not pointing at you, don’t worry. I’m just not really the type.” I giggle and Enjin gives me a genuine smile.
After finishing our drinks, Enjin walks with me to my room since we stayed on the same hall. Before reaching for the door handle I hear Enjin
“Haru.” We were having nicknames already.. I see.
“Hm?” I turn to him .
I feel him towering over me a little before reaching for some hair strand that was laying on my face, then turning that into his face cupping my left cheek with his right hand.
My face heats up as he leans in. “Enjin.” I say bluntly and he stops.
“Gosh you never shut that cheeky mouth of yours do you?”
With that Enjin cups my face, his face closing into mine, askimg me for permission with his eyes. And I give in, for what it felt like 2 minutes.
“I’m sorry.” I cup his face and I pull away.
“Wha-?”
“Goodnight Enjin.”
I turn to open the door then close it. What has gotten into me. I’ve barely known him. He is probably just some dude trying to get into my pants after all. He wouldn’t kiss me this soon!
I slap my face a little and go straight into bed. I need to sleep this off, it will only end bad on my side… it always did before.
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
I turn and huff in bed, rubbing my face, rolling my hips. Something felts off.. and warm. I look down to see Enjin. Who was having the time of his life inbetween my legs.
“Gosh mama you taste s’good.” He moans into my wet and sloppy cunt. His nose rubbing up and down on my clit as he slurps and sucks on my juice without any shame.
“You ask me to come this late in your room just to get what you crave for..?” He pulls away, his face wet like a dog who just digged into his food like he has been starved.
“Enjin—“ I try say something but he dives right back in. High pitched moans leave my mouth and I feel my throat go dry. His tongue goes deeper into my cunt, searching for my sweet spot.
“So slutty, wishing for my tongue and fingers so deep inside of you that you call for me at this hour…” he mocks me again . I try to escape the extreme pleasure I was feeling,
“Enjin— how… when..” I whine as I feel his left arm wrap around my hips, keeping them from moving.
“You’re so melted on my tongue that you forgot calling me , mama?” He chuckles .
Gosh I don’t ever remember, but all I could think of was the way he was eating me out, how he was so into it that his hands went down to his boxers to jerk himself off. His tip now red from all the blood pumping into his cock. Gosh he was big, gifted in both girth and length. His precum dropping drastically as he jerked his hips into his own grip. As he keeps doing his tricks with his tongue , I can feel something in my belly, as if I was going to erupt all over him. I started moaning loudly, then—.
The light of the sunrise creeps up on my face. Waking me up slowly. What was— I check myself, my shorts drenched . Was I…? No I wasn’t…
Was I really having wet dreams already over some sexy ass dude I’ve just met almost 2 weeks ago… over a kiss..!
Hell….
𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟
Note: sooooo, I was supposed to post this like— 2 days ago but this works as well . If their interaction feel rushed, well they should feel like that and that will make sense as I get deeper with the lore for their own stories so that whatever will happen in the future parts will make sense .
PLEASE don’t steal my work nor feed it to AI or even chat bots. . Ty very much :3 !!
Bro i genuinely GENUINELY hope tamsy gets a redemption arc at this point, like i hope he was brainwashed. Im so sick of hearing mischaracterization about him, and people saying hes a pedophile. Like dawg no tf he isnt.
Is he evil and lowk a narcissist? Yes. A pedophile? FUCCCKKK NOOOO. He literally shows ZERO sexual or romantic attraction to children.
His thing with rudo so clearly isn't anything like that, can you hoes learn to fucking read???
NOBLE ✦ heian!sukuna and his new arranged wife!reader...who barely looks at him, let alone fucks him... | NSFW. oral (f. rec). slight degredation. manhandling. a steamy onsen. ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა (3.6k)
Life had been a series of decisions made by everyone but you.
Being raised under strict rule and watchful eye just to be sold off to the wealthiest, most respected man in the country wasn't something you fought exactly, you knew it was a battle you wouldn't win.
They could treat you like a prize sow, but that didn't mean you'd sit there getting fat and happy and filled with babies like one.
Especially not when you were being unloaded onto a warlord.
Sorry, not a warlord, the warlord.
Unrivaled and undefeated, Sukuna Ryomen wore blood and ash to your first meeting as casually as he did his kimono.
Draped, loose, open in the front like he didn't care who gawked at his chiseled chest or the thick black ink that wrapped his body and disappeared into the robe.
You kept your head low but your eyes on the bored, tattooed face of the man who didn't even seem to be listening to the details of your ceremony taking place the following week.
Sukuna got one look at your expression, your posture, your dress, and was about to write you off as yet another mindless, well trained insect who got off on following orders. You certainly looked the part.
But as the meeting finished and you rose to your feet, lowering to a deep and respectful bow, you muttered something at him.
"I do hope you plan to bathe before the ceremony, I can smell you from here."
When you straightened, your face gave absolutely nothing away. But there was venom and fire slithering behind the courteous tone.
When you walked off to follow your mother and father, you did not look back.
But you... you insulted him. Told him he stunk right to his face and shattered the image he'd built in his head in the moments you knelt across from him.
Maybe you weren't the polite, sweet, mindless doll your parents raised you to be.
Well, at least you wouldn't be boring.
...
Oh, how he had come to regret those words.
Sukuna didn't think much about how his life would change once he was married. He'd be expected to make an heir, but it wasn't like that would affect his life.
Ha.
Hard to make an heir when his wife refused to acknowledge his existence, god forbid sleep in the same bed.
Hard to make an heir when his balls were full and the only seed he spent was on pretty, fluff-for-brains concubines, or eventually, when he could hardly stand to even look at them, his own god damned hand.
Being married to you wasn't only not boring, it was hell.
He had to wonder which of the many heinous acts he'd committed thus far in his lifetime had landed him living punishment in the form of you.
Probably all of them.
But Sukuna wasn't only a sadist, but a masochist just the same.
Sure he glared and sneered and scoffed at your back as you walked out the moment he stepped in a room. Making a snide comment under your breath as you passed him just to set his teeth grinding away.
Sometimes he would bark a, "Know your place, woman." At your disappearing form, catching your shoulders shaking the slightest bit. Like you were fucking laughing.
It made his blood boil and hands itch to do something. To retaliate, to show you your place and put you in it.
You were supposed to be a wife. Subservient and devoted in every way to him and his wants, his needs.
That’s the thing, in every technical way, you were. You ran the household, ate meals with him when expected, attended ceremonies and political gatherings when it was called for. On the outside, you were absolutely perfect.
And in some backwards way, you really were perfect for him.
A match in fire and callousness, you didn't let it rage out of control like he could. You kept it in check and used your seething as an underhanded weapon.
One that really got you what you wanted, because now you had all the freedoms of a wealthy noblewoman, and you had Sukuna reluctantly wrapped around your pretty little finger.
You knew he was not the person to have worked up and left on the edge, but it’s not like you particularly gave a shit. It was amusing to see how his crimson eyes lingered as you passed in the hall, some staff member in tow as you listed off your preferences and plans for a gathering. The way his nostrils flared as he caught your scent.
No, it slapped him across the face. Invaded his senses and had all four of his fists clenched.
He told himself you were just another woman. His wife, sure, but no different than any other concubine. But the way his hands itched to reach and grab you at the waist, rip your obi off and squeeze the soft curve instead, to pull you in and bury his face into the crook of your neck and breathe so deep he’d never get your scent out of his sinuses.
The way he ached to have you sat on his lap taking every inch of him, to fill you until your belly swelled with his babies. Fucked his heir into you.
He’d never had the urge to breed before, and it was really fucking annoying. It made him feel like a fucking animal, and he hated it.
Sure he sated animalistic needs, eating, fucking, killing. But they didn’t control him.
Sukuna could level civilizations singlehandedly, raze villages to the ground and upheave the world just to toss it on its head. He was a warlord—no, the fucking warlord, and his pretty little wife had him tearing his own hair out.
God, he needed to relax. This wasn’t him. He didn’t let emotions run his life, and he certainly didn't let people run his life.
Meanwhile you and your life carried on just the same. Ate dinner and sipped fine tea imported from the mountainous regions to the east, strolled the gardens full of fresh blooms and the low buzzing hum of cicadas, stripped free of your yukata with the help of your attendants and left to soak in the hot spring watching the sun set on the land.
On your land.
You supposed being married to the brute wasn't so bad after all.
Steam rolled off the water, lifted by the light breeze that rustled leaves and set chimes twinkling.
It was peace. You were exactly where you wanted to be, and certainly enjoyed it, but you couldn't deny you craved something just a little more. Something exciting.
“B-but sir! Please, wait!” The shrill, panicked voice of an attendant rang out just outside the door into the onsen and you whipped your head around just in time to see it slide open with a bang!
And behold, your husband.
Taking up nearly the entire doorway with nothing but a towel barely hanging on around his hips. So short the black rings inked on each thigh were visible.
It left you speechless, to see so much of him so bare. That he’d be brazen enough to walk right in on you so indecent. But you dipped quickly, putting your body underwater up to your neck and covering your breasts.
“What do you think you're doing in here?” You lifted your chin, dignity intact even as you hunched to maintain a shred of modesty.
Sukuna froze in the entrance, ruby eyes wide and stuck on you for a long moment until he finally broke and stepped into the room.
“Bathing. I believe it was you that requested me to, no?” He quirked a brow, bare feet slapping the stone as he walked toward the steps into the water.
The same attendant hurried in behind him, coming to crouch next to you. “Ma'am, your towel? Would you like to—”
“Leave us,” Sukuna dismissed her without a look, halted and about to get in.
You took the towel and muttered that you were fine, that she could go. She bowed low to you both and then that was it. You were alone.
Well, alone with your husband.
Who at least had the decency to go against tradition and leave the scrap of towel on and covering where thick black lines dipped low on his abdomen.
You studied each other for a moment. Your hands cupping your breasts and his crossed over his chest and planted on his hips.
You broke the stare first, turning to look out at the open scene and he started down the steps. He sank into the water and you watched from your periphery as he eased back, running a damp hand through his dusty pink mess of hair and rested two muscled arms on the stone ledge.
It was the first time you'd ever been alone with him, and you refused to look at him or speak first.
“I despise how they hover.” Sukuna's gruff voice cut through the silence and you did not look at him as you retorted.
“That is their duty. An attendant would not be properly fulfilling their role if they were not present when needed.”
Sukuna barked a laugh, “Well, you'd know all about that now, wouldn't you?”
Your head snapped to the side and you looked him right in the eye with brows furrowed. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
“Don't act oblivious now.” He tch'd, casting his gaze out at the view instead of you. “Stupidity does not suit you.”
You blinked. A few times. And despite the heat of the water, felt warmth race across your cheeks.
Was he really so callous?!
He caught your slight shock and smirked, “I assumed you'd be fleeing about now, is something the matter?”
“I will not be bullied out of my evening soak.” You huffed.
“Bullied?” Sukuna scoffed, “You've had quite a soft upbringing if this constitutes bullying in your eyes.” He could see your face twist, fire flickering in your eyes as he prodded you and all he could think was finally.
“You know nothing about me, so do not speak as if you do.” You almost sneered as you hissed it at him. Like he'd truly struck something.
And Sukuna was not one to back down when he struck a nerve.
“I know enough to know you're a sheltered, well mannered brat. If there is more than that, I have not seen it.” He said it like a challenge, like he was daring you to show him there was more.
He had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Sukuna was a brute, blood and dirt still under his dark fingernails from the havoc he likely wreaked just before coming to interrupt your evening.
So fast the water splashed the ledge, you snatched the towel and wrapped it around your body under the surface. It was flimsy and lewd, but better than your hands.
His eyes went wide, gripping the ledge as you rose to your feet. Waist deep in the water, the towel clung to your form and had him swallow visibly.
“You seem to have certain expectations of me, does it upset you that I have not met them?” Your head cocked, taking a step forward.
Sukuna did not waver on the outside, simply sneered, “I am no stranger to disappointment.”
Your eyes narrowed into a glare that threw daggers at him and god, he felt his heart skip a beat as you cut right back with, “Well, neither am I.”
The water rippled around you as you took step after step closer to him. “I never asked to be married off to the likes of you.”
“That makes two of us.” He shot right back, rising to his feet as you drew close enough to look down at him, making you tilt your head back a bit to keep your eyes on his.
They betrayed you though and flickered to his chest, following the black lines that cut down his abdomen. Water dripping from his bare body, the tiny scrap of a towel heavy on his hips, soaked and clinging to his muscled thighs.
God, why did he have to look like that?
“Brute.”
Surely you'd be the death of him.
“Prude.” His brow lifted like a dare and you stepped right up to the challenge.
“Whore.”
It surprised even you and as it left your lips you saw the shock hit Sukuna like a slap to the face.
Too far?
“Why you little—” He snarled, grabbing you at the waist with one hand, nails pressing in enough to make you gasp as he brought his face close and held you in place. “You dare to speak to me like that?”
“So all those women, you mean to tell me you keep them around for idle chatter? Please.” You scoffed and Sukuna lifted a brow, lips pulling into a slow smirk.
“What’s this? Is the brat jealous?”
You? Jealous? Pfft, ridiculous.
He wasn’t about to tell you that it had been weeks since he’d last even tried to be with another woman. That it disgusted him to even think of. That he couldn’t.
But here you were, right here in his grasp, trembling a little but not pulling away. A crinkle to your nose like he just caught you red handed. And that certainly stirred something in him.
“You… your—” You stammered a little and his smirk split into a grin. Sharp and gleaming. He could feel your heart racing away under his grip. A clear of your throat and you refitted the blades in your gaze. “Clearly, your delusion knows no bounds.”
“You’d think it delusion that a woman would be jealous of another bringing pleasure to her man?” He hummed, grip softening on your waist slightly just to slide down to your hip. Your lips parted and he could see your thighs squeeze under the surface as he stepped closer.
“Or maybe you like the thought.” He mused, so close you could feel the heat of his body and his breath on your skin as he laughed once, low and gruff. “Maybe you touch yourself at the thought of another woman bouncing on my cocks, screaming my name in ecstasy."
Wait… what?!
You had to have heard that wrong. Sure the brute had four arms but that would just be…
It took a moment to gather your thoughts and hiss a meek little, “Never.”
“Do you ever touch yourself?” He hummed again, dipping underwater to trace the edge of your towel, grazing bare skin and making you swallow. “Or are you too prudish for even that?”
You could just shove him away and storm off. In fact, why weren’t you doing exactly that?
Heart racing, you could feel your pulse between your legs, squeezed together as your belly tightened. His eyes bored into you like he knew exactly what was happening. How traitorous your body had become.
Lips parted and wavering, you hesitated to answer.
Sukuna Ryomen could always sense blood in the water, and he knew it was time to strike.
He moved, his face coming down so close to yours, but still out of reach. Thick fingers dragging over the bare skin of your thigh, he pressed up between your legs and sent a jolt of lightning ripping up your spine. You yelped and gripped his arm with both hands, but he didn't move. Just held pressure and studied how your face twisted and flushed.
“Tell me to stop,” He said, voice hoarse and quiet.
“S-s—ah! S… S-kuna,” You whimpered his name, clinging to his tattooed forearm. God he could feel you throbbing against his fingers and his cocks—already stiff, twitched. Ready to spear you on both and fill you with him until you sobbed.
“Yes, brat?”
You squirmed, eyes squeezing shut. What the hell was happening to you? “I… I can’t—”
“Look at the prude, coming undone and I haven't even done anything. Do you want more?” He rubbed a slow, tiny circle on your clit and your cunt clenched around nothing.
“Mmph—god,” You gasped, using his arm to support yourself.
“Use your words, brat. Ask me nicely, and I’ll make you see stars.”
The way he spoke to you, shit… you must have been out of your fucking mind. Or so horny you could barely stand. Either way, you pried your eyes open and met his.
“Please,” You whined, so filled with pressure you could hardly stand it and the word almost had him on his knees.
“Please what?” He held firm even as you glared weak little daggers at him, that fire burning behind your pretty, glazed eyes.
“Please,” You couldn’t believe the position you’d landed yourself in. You couldn’t believe just how good it felt… “Make me see stars.”
Restraint snapped with a low groan and his hands were on you. It was a blur and you could hardly keep track of how surrounded you felt. One slipping up into your hair, two squeezing down your sides and pulling at the towel—barely hanging on and about to give—
Ah, yep, there it goes.
Hit the water with a wet plap and you were left fully exposed.
His finger found your slick entrance and he pushed inside. Barely even half of it but your eyes went wide with how thick it was and you squeaked nonetheless, starting to protest but Sukuna shut you up.
He hefted you up like you were nothing, slotting your thighs around his hips and his own covering let go just the same as yours.
God how he was dying to use you, feel you squeeze around him like you did his finger. But you weren’t quite ready for that yet.
So he pulled your hair, tilting your head back as he brought his mouth down on yours, lips pressing yours open and delving in with his tongue.
The sound you made into his mouth, tongue tangled with his as you gave in and let your hand thread up into his hair, nails dug into his bicep, it was lewd and perfect and exactly what he craved.
“You're still a—ah—brute,” You panted between kisses, gasping as he squeezed your ass and spread your cheeks, grinding your bare pussy on his abdomen.
“You're leaking on me,” Sukuna growled, tugging harder at your hair. “Maybe you like that fact.”
Before you could protest, something wet squished against your pussy. You jerked with a gasp and started to squirm, but Sukuna had you trapped in his grasp and wasn't exactly keen on letting you go.
“Ah, you asked for this. Stars, remember?”
“Wha-what is that?” Your voice pitched as he held you against the thing flicking up on your twitching clit.
It felt amazing, electricity shooting through your limbs with every movement, but it was foreign. Big but softer, unlike how his hand had been.
“You like it, don’t you? Like riding on my tongue?” He nipped at your lip like it was obvious.
His tongue?
Your nose crinkled, “What are you—oh my—mmph!” His tongue thrust into your mouth again as his… uh… other tongue prodded at your hole.
Sukuna groaned into your mouth, tasting you—all of you. Legs pinned wide open for the wet muscle to work its way inside. Slick hitting the tastebuds making his eyes roll.
God you tasted fucking good. One taste and he was surely addicted, just like he was to your scent.
The feeling of it squirming and exploring deeper, licking up into your gummy walls as sharp teeth grazed your clit, it had you keening and bucking in his arms. The stretch was unreal, and had you struggling to breathe.
“Fuck…” He rasped, pulling back to watch as you writhed, brows knit and bitten lips pushed out in a sweet little pout. You looked perfect, you felt perfect, walls pulsing around the length squelching in and out.
He was fucking you with it, and you were on the verge, ready to explode from a white hot pressure filling your belly. Shit… this had to be a sin of some kind.
Sukuna tugged your hair, leaning you back and supporting your weight to give you both a full view of how he stretched you out. “Look at that. Poor little pussy can barely handle the whole thing.” He thrust that tongue in deep and curled and you cried out.
“Oh god! I-I can't—”
“Do it,” He commanded and whatever was holding the dam back, broke. Head thrown back, your chest heaved with a strangled noise erupting as you spasmed, nails raking down his arms.
As slick leaked into his maw, trembling in Sukuna’s grip as he groaned with the feeling, the taste of you coming undone, your fuzzy mind went…
Stars…
As you rode the last waves, he pulled out of your twitching pussy, giving your clit a flick and humming a laugh when you jolted.
“Well, where did all that attitude go? Speechless already, brat?” He mocked, watching your lashes flutter and eyes struggle to focus into a glare. On fire with a flush that raced across your cheeks and chest.
“Pu-put me down you fiend.” You huffed and pushed weakly at his chest and Sukuna barked a laugh. Grinning wicked and feral with gleaming canines and your tummy clenched all over again.
“No-no, I’m not done with you.” Your knees hit the hard stone as Sukuna sat back on the ledge, thighs spread over his, letting your weight drop into his lap and right onto his cocks, pushing your hips back to grind you against the thick lengths. The feeling had you choke on air and despite thinking he would destroy you if he stuck one in, god forbid both, your cunt throbbed and you were painfully aware of how empty you felt.
“Not even close, wife.”
this is for u @interlude-enternude <3 it was supposed to just be a drabble but i love us torturing suki too much :3 m. list | divider by @/kthice <3
