tw: survival sex work, homelessness. implied abuse/mistreatment. hurt/comfort. hybrid au is pretty dark when you think about it.
Read the previous part here
Suguru has to double take the first time he sees you.
A mess of dirt and grime and filthy, torn fabric - you blend in with the surrounding garbage pretty well.
You're curled up in a ball, face hidden behind your legs, clutching yourself tightly. Trembling from the cold.
He can tell now that your clothing (if you could call it that) was ripped up, and he sees red-purple, bruises and scratches littered throughout your smaller form.
Who did this to you? Who left you out here? Why?
Monkeys. Fucking monkeys, disgusting animals that torment, exploit, and degrade hybrids for being lesser than them.
Adopt a kitten, a pet, like some kind of mindless beast, only to selfishly discard it.
Suguru doesn't have an owner, not anymore. It's better like that.
Now, he makes his own rules. His own destiny.
He picks who gets to "adopt" him off the street, if he lets anyone at all. When he does allow it, he's sure to spend a few weeks eating well before he makes off like a bandit with anything he can. Skips town and never sees any consequences.
Most of the time, he plays beggar, setting up with his little collection tin and a pitiful look.
Technically, it's not untrue. Hybrids can't rent homes or hold jobs; he sleeps in pc cafes and motels when he can.
He always has to save up to stay in a private room during his rut, so sometimes he has to stick it on the streets or find someone to shack up with.
There's always money in the red light district. It's despicable.
How those filthy creatures look at him with lust in their eyes, touch him with their dirty, greedy hands.
Here, kitty, kitty, a sickeningly sweet voice will sing at him, sticky fingers over his ears, his face, his throat.
Does kitty want some cream? A repulsive scent that nearly makes him gag. Swallow it all down. And he does. Good kitty.
It tastes like vomit. He can't get the smell out of his head, like piss and shit and everything vile in this world.
Monkeys.
He fucking hates it, but sometimes he has to for a place to stay, or pocket change. The real money was in doing shows, streams, the more official stuff with an agency or a manger. Casual arrangements don't pay much but he keeps his freedoms.
He likes it that way. As much as they might swoon or coo at him, they're still humans in the end. They aren't capable of seeing him as anything more than a pet.
But he didn't always know what these monkeys were like. Didn't understand.
Suguru looks down at you, the poor, battered thing that you are.
Once, he too was a lonely, shivering stray, lost and abandoned. Thrown out in the cold by everyone he'd ever loved.
Something pulls in his heart. Muscle fibers tearing from the strain of sympathy.
No movement. Not from his approaching footsteps, not even when he kneels down to be eye-level with you.
If anything, you flinch away, shivering fruitlessly back against the hard concrete wall behind you.
He knows that look. Like you think you're about to get hit.
Your ears are downturned. One of them is torn badly, a little red.
Only one of your arms is wrapped around your legs; the other is tucked against you, where he can't see, cradled against your chest.
...must be bad.
You're so much smaller than him. Just a little thing. You must be his age, maybe younger.
What were you thrown away for? No longer being a cute kitten? Maybe you weren't fun anymore when you got your first heat, because you were an independent living thing and not some stuffed animal to be played with?
"Are you okay?" Suguru says, as softly as he can, "Did you get hurt?"
The question is pointless. But it's the kindness that he needs to get across. I'm not here to hurt you.
You don't even look up. The only thing he can scent from you is fear, anxiety, how you stiffen and lock in place like a deer in headlights.
He's got a thread and needles in his bag - maybe he could stitch your ear up. Or at least wrap it up, or clean it... it'll itch so badly if it gets infected.
He tries to reach out to touch you, but you jerk away. Like it burns.
It burns him, too. In his chest. Fingertips searing.
"Hey," He says, gently. Putting as much tenderness in his voice as he can, "Hey. Easy there. I'm here to help you."
Suguru feels like he's been struck; how you don't move, don't speak, just tense up and shiver there, helpless. Like you'd run away if you had the strength.
There's scratches on your good arm. The streets aren't kind to strays. God knows what you've been through. Or at least Suguru does.
"I've got food." He says, hoping to see your ears twitch, a little life or movement - nothing.
He pulls out his precious emergency treat; a bright blue can of tuna.
The top is easy to peel open, the smell rushing up to meet his nose. His mouth almost waters - his last meal was sometime yesterday.
He sets it gently at your side, loudly enough that you must hear it as well as smell it.
"Don't you want any?" Suguru asks it gently, staring at you, then back at his tin can treasure.
You don't say anything.
"...I'll leave it right here for you," He pats the ground beside you, "I don't need it. It's all yours."
Suguru gets up. Some cats didn't like to eat around other people. You'd probably had to fight other hybrids over scraps in the alleyways - you'd probably lost.
That's how you ended up here, in this dingy, empty place.
Looking down at you, his heart clenches once again. The food is right there. It's good, it's clean, but you won't take it.
You just sit there, breathing so lightly you could be dead.
Even as he exits the alleyway to give you some privacy, Suguru knows; he can't leave you alone.
If you won't leave, then he'll keep you safe where you are. At least he knows where you are when he has to go somewhere.
He keeps other people out. Either by scaring them away, hissing and scratching, or guiding them gently with big wide eyes and a sickeningly sweet smile.
There's nothing quite like the relief in his chest when he comes back and finds his tuna can empty.
It surprises him, how happy he is. How just the sight of your crumpled up little form makes his heart ache, but each time that ache is replaced with a warmth of familiarity, a reassurance, a strange giddy happiness that you're still alive, still surviving, despite it all.
And Suguru finds himself willing to do anything to keep it that way. Even if supporting two hybrids is vastly more difficult than just himself.
It's easier to do, when he thinks of you, of your helpless crumpled form. Easier to purr and lean forward and pretend he likes being petted by those dirty hands.
There's the same old ugly feeling churning in his chest, but it churns more violently at the thought of these grimy fingers reaching for you.
He shoves any thoughts of what might have happened to you out of his mind. All he can do is try to give you the best life right now.
A few scrounges in some alleyways and dumpster bins and he's found a large cardboard box and a blanket that was probably fluffy, once.
He leaves it beside you, setting it up carefully, close. Rubbing up against it to leave his scent on it and erase anything else that might bother you.
Sets another tin of tuna he'd saved up for inside. A package of stale snacks in case you get hungry before he gets back. A bottled he'd rinsed out and filled with tap water.
All these things took days for him to scrape together; a veritable fortune. Suguru doesn't have much. But what he does have, he shares with you.
He's not entirely sure why he does it. No one ever helped him.
Maybe that's it. You don't deserve this any more than he did. To be thrown away like trash. To be unloved.
Suguru couldn't save himself.
But he can save you.
It happens slowly. Takes longer than he'd like. But one day he walks into the alley and his heart drops when he doesn't see you and he races over only to see you -
Curled up in the very back of the box he'd gotten for you.
The sigh that escapes him leaves him feeling lighter. Warm all around.
It's the first time he sees your eyes, too. They go wide when they see him and then wince shut as you hunch down, cowering.
"No, no, it's okay," the soothing words escape him in a rush, "I'm glad, I was afraid you might not like it. I left this here for you."
And then - for the first time, your eyes blink open. Still lurched back.
His heart is trembling when you speak your first, meek thanks to him. The sound of your voice, low and hoarse, is the most wonderful noise he can recall hearing.
It's obvious that you don't know how to react to his kindness. What to do. You're afraid because that's all you know how to be.
But that's okay. He can be patient. He can be kind. Over and over and over again, until you unfurl from frightened animal to a friendly stray, or close enough to it.
Looking back, it's strange to imagine how his entire life has changed since meeting you.
One of his happiest moments in recent memory is the first time you let him touch you. Let him pet your head, brushing over your ear.
There's something so tender about it. How your ears flick, then lower, your eyelids dropping as your breathing slows. Gently, hesitantly, you lean into it, and his heart soars.
The scratches on your good arm had healed by then. The other arm was fine - but your hand had been... declawed.
The poor, sore, reddened fingertips stick out to him, painful even to look at. It must hurt even worse for you to have that, day in and day out. Poor exposed nailbeds, itchy, so easily infected.
You desperately avoid looking at it. It's a while before Suguru can manage to get your hand into his, and you whimper pitifully all the while, even as you allow him to hold it and examine your nails.
It's hard to get the right materials without an owner, but Suguru finds some medicine, some cream, and a nice glove in the right size.
He treats your ear, too, even though it'll probably be torn forever. Battle scars for an alley cat stray.
"You're so brave," Suguru tells you as he pets you, scooting closer to your side. He says your name, with all the warmth and affection he can manage.
You look down, mumbling that you're not, but he feels you leaning into his side.
It's a dark night, and a cold one. He manages to find a motel for you both to stay in that night (after so many hours on his knees), a real bed for you both to sleep in.
The motel is a seedy place - it has to be, to take cash and ask no question; hybrids aren't supposed to rent rooms - and it's dingy but it's the best you've had in a long time. Maybe forever.
That night he cuddles you close, holds you tightly, warmly, stroking you soothingly after he gives you the better part of his meal for dinner.
It's the first time he hears it. Faint and gentle and ever so distant, rumbling featherlight against him.
After weeks together, this is the first time he'd heard you purr. He feels, on his shoulder, little pricks of your claws against him, kneading at him.
He could cry. Joy surges through his chest, his throat wet and heavy with emotion as he feels your body relax into his.
Those are the best nights. Just you and him curled up together in whatever tiny corner you can claim for yourselves. All you have is each other but the shared warmth and the cozy embrace is enough for both of you.
Suguru sees it, over time. How you flinch away when you see yourself kneading at him. How you nuzzle against his chest in your sleep, open-mouthed.
You must have been weaned too soon. Taken from your mother young. Still a little kittenish, deep down.
It makes you all the more darling to him. There's something protective in him, a longing to hold you close and tight and safe beside him forever.
He wonders sometimes. Before he'd met you, he'd thought about getting fixed somehow. So he could avoid his stupid ruts, scam stupid rich widows over "breeding requests".
But maybe he's not entirely bereft of paternal instincts. He watches you at night, ears twitching against his chest. Wonders what colors your litter would come out. You'd make the cutest kittens, and the cutest mother, and he'd love you so so much...
He can barely provide for the two of you. The only way to make anything close to a real living would be to sell much himself, much more than he does now. Sign himself away as property to an agency. To fucking monkeys.
Even then, it would be hard to keep your litter safe once they were weaned. Hybrids needed human owners for everything. If it needed a form, a signature (and what didn't, these days?), it needed an owner. There's a reason life as a stray is so hard.
And you're in no state to have a litter, either. He hasn't even seen you in a heat, and there's no doubt it's due to stress.
When you notice yourself kneading at him (with your good hand, the one that hasn't been declawed), you snatch your hand away, looking down as if ashamed.
You stiffen up when he licks at you, cleaning your mouth of a recent meal, or just grooming your cute ears and cheeks. It took a lot of time to brush out the matts in your hair originally, get it back to a decent state.
It's a long time before he gets you to groom him back. He finds files, clippers, things to trim your nails so you're more confident kneading to self-soothe.
They'd been sharp, before, at least the ones you still had. You stare at him when he brings you a tiny scratching post, when he shows you how to drag your hand over it to enjoy the sensation and entertain yourself.
It seems to occupy you well enough. He shows you the right spots to beg and the ways to look up at people. Teaches you who to hiss and claw at, how to drive away the wrong sort of attention.
Suguru takes care of you, now, so there are degenerates who come knocking. He licks your hair, your tail, if he can't brush it. Keeps you smelling like him so the other hybrids don't come sniffing around.
But there are always monkeys. They're the ones with the money, after all, the ones worth making cute faces to get spare change from.
They're supposed to be the victims, after all. Charm them, meow at them, get your spare change and then let them be on their way.
So when he comes across you sitting across from an obviously rich, well-groomed, white-haired man - well. Your hopeful eyes tell more than any words ever could.
"And you must be Suguru~" The man purrs his name like he's not just another monkey, "Your little friend tells me you two are strays, and I've been looking for a pet."
The insufferable creature stands up to his terrible lanky height. "I'm a generous guy! If you're half as sweet as your friend here, I'll be happy to have you both."
Suguru is not half as sweet as you are. Not to monkeys like him.
But he can smell the rich on him. From his designer top to his limited edition watch and his shiny, tailor-made shoes.
This is a man so steeped in wealth that it means nothing to him. He'll amuse himself with his little pets until it gets old, and when it does, he won't care if you disappear - he might even be relieved.
He certainly wouldn't miss a small fortune along with the two of you.
Suguru looks at your face, a twinge of remorse dragging through him.
But you had to learn, anyways. And you'll be happier crying over sushi than while you eat out of a tuna can.
He smiles at the white-haired man, his best people-pleasing smile.
Yandere!Neko had the perfect life before you arrived. He had been the undisputed king of the household for three whole years, completely spoiled by the owners. He had the best sunspots, his favorite silk pillows, and the undivided attention of his humans. He was perfectly content being a solitary, lazy predator. So, when the owners walked through the front door carrying a travel crate with you inside, his entire world tilted on its axis.
Yandere!Neko knew exactly what the owners were planning the moment he caught your scent. Nekos have sharp instincts, and the way the humans were cooing about "making a beautiful litter" and "being a perfect match" made his stomach turn with pure disgust. He didn't want a mate. He didn't want some strange, anxious neko invading his territory, shedding on his furniture, and stealing his food.
Your first meeting was a disaster. You were just trying to get your bearings, stepping out of the crate with your ears flattened against your head, cautiously sniffing the base of the sofa. The owners gently nudged you toward him, trying to force an introduction. He didn't even hesitate. His ears pinned flat back against his skull, his tail puffed up to twice its normal size, and he let out a low, venomous hiss before violently swatting at your face. If you hadn't flinched back in time, his claws would have left deep marks.
For the first few months, he made your life an absolute living hell. He was a textbook bully. If you sat on a cushion, he would stalk over, shadow you with his massive frame, and growl until you ran away. During feeding times, he would push you away from the bowls, eating your portions right in front of you just to prove a point. You quickly learned to keep your tail tucked and your eyes on the floor whenever he entered the room, completely terrified of his volatile temper.
But the territorial hostility slowly began to morph into something much darker and far more possessive. Because you were so submissive and constantly tried to stay out of his way, he grew accustomed to your presence. The turning point happened on a bitterly cold winter night. You were shivering on your small, flimsy floor mat across the room, curled into a tight, miserable ball. He watched you from his plush, heated bed for an hour before letting out a sharp, irritated chirp.
When you didn't move, he got out of bed, padded over, gripped the scruff of your neck with his teeth, and dragged you across the carpet, shoving you onto his mattress. You froze, terrified he was going to bite you, but he just wrapped his long, heavy tail tightly around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. "Stop shaking," he rumbled into your ear, his voice low and vibrating with a sudden, intense heat. "You're making too much noise. Just sleep."
Once he allowed you into his bed, the dynamic completely flipped. He didn't stop being aggressive; he just redirected that aggression into forcing you to be close to him. He developed a strict, suffocating morning routine. The exact second the sun hit the blankets, he would pin your shoulders down with his paws, trapping your body beneath his, and begin ruthlessly grooming you. He would lick your ears, your cheeks, and the top of your head with rough, demanding strokes. If you tried to squirm away because his sand-paper tongue was making your skin raw, he would nip at your throat just hard enough to make you whine. "Be still. You smell like the humans' laundry. I need to get my scent back on you."
Yandere!Neko completely ruined the owners' original plans, but in a way they never expected. He still glares at the humans and refuses to cooperate if they try to lock you two in a room together for "breeding purposes." He hates being told what to do. But the moment the humans leave the house, his possessive facade locks down tight. He will herd you into the master bedroom, block the door with his body, and force you to curl up under his chin, purring so loudly it rattles your ribs.
Yandere!Neko went from hating the idea of having a mate to becoming entirely, violently obsessed with the fact that you belong only to him. He won't let you greet the owners at the door anymore; if you try to trot over to them, heâll swipe at your heels and pull you back into the shadows of the hallway. He doesn't care about making a litter for the humans, but he is completely consumed by the dark, primal reality that you are trapped in his house, sleeping in his bed, and covered in his scent and he is never, ever going to let you go.
CUTTING TEETH - matsukawa issei/f!reader/hanamaki takahiro (4.2k) vampire!au, vampire!matsuhana, new vampire!reader, poly matsuhana, mmf!threesome (barely), smut, finger sucking, fingering, mentions of blood/blood drinking, lots of talk about teeth and mouths, reader is going through a bit of a breakdown, sweetheart and good girl used as petnames, matsuhana give off slightly yandere vibes but they aren't actually, and reader is physically restrained at one point but it's not non/dubcon!
part of the 'more than you can chew' universe
18+ NFSW - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT
Time passes differently now.
It makes sense, you canât help but think in those precious moments when the haze lifts and grants you a reprieve of much needed clarity; Itâs only logical that something would feel different now that you are too. Seconds ticking past but mean nothing when you stay unchanging. Time no longer has any meaning now that youâre frozen in it. And so nine days slip by, and theyâre all a blur; one bleeds unintelligibly into the next, but they feel like what once were seconds in another life.
Youâre burning.Â
Youâre hungry.
You feel as if youâre coming undone.
But youâre safe. You know that to be true too. Even in the haze, even in the vicious delirium and the burn, there are hands that cradle you and the gentle brush of lips against your skin. Youâre surrounded constantly by the scent of pine, the whistle of the winter wind and soft, familiar voices.
Theyâd told you it would be like this, prepared you for it. But knowing something in theory and knowing something in practice are very different things.
Youâre curled up in the corner of the smallest room in the house. Itâs the only one with tatami floors, though you suspect at one timeâbefore extensive renovations that shaped the home into something beautiful but unrecognizableâthere once may have been more. This room is used for storage now, mostly; there are a few boxes piled up along one side, an extra futon folded up in one corner, and antiques in pristine condition that donât seem to otherwise match the decor. Those are half-covered by drop cloths to protect them from dust or damage, but thereâs a vanity along the wall thatâs been half-revealed as the sheet pools on the floor, revealing beautiful knotted elm, a pristine mirror, and careful woodwork underneath. Thereâs a faint scent of must that hangs in the still air, and the little room is darkâthe sole window along the opposite side covered by thick curtains to block out the sun.
But you prefer the dark now.Â
You see too much in the light.
The air in the dim room shifts suddenly, and you lift your face from the crook between your knees where theyâre drawn up to your chest.
âThere you areââ
You heard him even before he opened the door. Heard him on the other side of the house before he even started making his way to you.
ââIâve been looking all over for you.â
The man on the other side of the room keeps his distance as he appraises you. Itâs a gesture that is not done unkindly. Everything Matsukawa Issei does is considerate, as ever.Â
He knows the hell youâre suffering.
âWhatâre you doing in here, huh?â
Issei makes his way towards you at an easy, lazy pace, even though the room is so small. The way he takes his time approaching you is unimposing, even given his height and his breadth, like a trapper approaching small prey that had mistakenly gotten locked in their snare.
Your throat feels raw when you finally speak. To be honest, you arenât entirely certain when the last time you spoke even was. It may have been a few days. Perhaps only hours.
You wonder when it will get easier to keep track, now that the flow of time feels so foreign.
âMy jaw hurts.â
Issei crouches down next to you slowly, and your senses follow him; his warmth, his scent, the steady sound of his breaths. He draws closer and closer, his presence growing more unignorable until heâs mere inches away from your face. His proximity effortlessly eases the ache that thrums under your gums. His nearness soothes the inferno that has scorched a hearth into your chest.
âYour jaw?â he repeats your words, a careful hand reaching out towards you. His movements are cautious but sure, measured but gentle. His broad palm caresses your cheek, his touch soft against your skin. You lean into it, into him, as unconsciously as drawing in a breath.
Itâs quiet as he holds you.
ââŠMy teeth.â
Issei hums. The sound is a deep, sympathetic purr that makes your skin prickle just underneath the surface. His hand slips a little further down your face, until heâs cupping your jaw rather than the soft swell of your cheek. Your eyes finally meet his, and youâre lost in them as the pad of his thumb presses against the pucker of your mouth.
âCan I?â he asks, his head tilting to the side.
Your lips part for his willingly, wordlessly, welcoming him in.
The tip of the digit slips underneath your top lip, and you can taste the subtle saltiness that clings to his skin. Issei watches your expression as he traces along the front of your upper row of teeth, ghosting along the smooth enamel and mapping the peaks and valleys as one tooth gives way to the next. His touch sweeps a little further up and the investigation continues as he skims along the soft pink of your gums. The warmth of his hand and his closeness has your mouth filling with saliva that threatens to drip at the corner of your parted lips.
He presses, firmer now than he has yet, against a tender spot along your gums.
âMmmmmphâ!â
You clutch his wrist tightly with both hands, holding him still as you pant raggedly against his palm. Spit freely runs down his skin now, and your chin, catching in the low light of the small room youâve locked yourself away in as it drips slowly to the floor. That all-consuming burn is still thereâhaunting your lungs and up the track of your throatâbut youâre holding onto Issei tighter than youâve ever held anything.
âEasy, easy,â he soothes you quietly, his other hand reaching up to pat along your hair. Your grip slackens, but you keep his hand pressed desperately to your mouth like a lifeline. His thumb is still resting against that sensitive, aching spot, and once he senses itâs safe for him to continue he sweeps the pad of it against that place again. Thereâs a throb deep beneath the muscle that twinges, and itâs painful but surprisingly not unpleasant. Your jaw relaxes slightly, though your breaths are still shuddering, and it grants him even better access to your mouth than before.
âGood girl,â he praises you for the utterly unconscious gesture, sweeping the digit stuck beneath your lip slowly along to the same spot on the opposite side of your top row of teeth. It hurts there too, but Isseiâs touch is gentle and compassionate; soothing as it glides against the slick flesh.Â
The little room around you fades away, little by little, until all you know is him.
Your vision grows hazy, your eyelids suddenly heavy as Issei continues to explore your mouth. The pain that had been so all-consuming just moments before is easier now to bear, your senses dulling to anything that isnât him. Thereâs so much saliva pooling under your tongue that you can hear how wet it is as the man before you moves his thumb around inside.
Eventually heâs satisfied, a pleased little hum telling you heâs found what he was looking for, and as if to reward you he slips his thumb between your teeth and rubs it against the surface of your tongue. You close your lips around it happily.Â
âGentle,â he urges, and you heed his warningâcareful not to bite down or otherwise move too eagerly with his finger caught in your mouth. You suckle it gently on nothing more than sheer instinct. It feels niceâsoothing, familiar somehow even though it isnâtâand he sighs contently. âThatâs it.âÂ
You stay like that for a while, holding his wrist as you suck against the warmth of his thumb where it rests against your tongue. You grow even more delirious the longer you indulge yourselfâthe demons that have been clawing at you incessantly for the past nine days quieting until you can scarcely notice them at all.Â
âYour teeth are coming in,â Issei eventually speaks again in that easy, gentle way he always does, but you hardly register his words through your daze.Â
You make a small noise of confusion once his words reach you somewhere you can understand.
âYour fangs,â he explains as he smiles softly down at you, watching with nothing short of fondness in his gaze.
You blink, processing his revelation though your brain is foggy and your thoughts are syrupy slow.
Issei slips his thumb out of your mouth only once you allow him to, dipping forward and dragging his tongue along your bottom lip to catch the spit that has steadily been dribbling out. He doesnât kiss you, not really anyway, even though the gesture feels so intimate and his lips are practically upon yours. Itâs as though he senses you want to say something, because as soon as heâs cleaned you up heâs pulling away and looking to you expectantly.
âMy⊠fangs?â you sound uncertain, your voice thready and confused as you repeat what heâs told you.
Issei lifts his thumb up to his mouth; the length of it is covered in the sheen of your saliva, all the way down to his wrist. He cleans that off too as he nods.Â
You shiver a little.
âAre they going to fall out?â you ask him worriedly, a tightness of anxiety weaving itself into a knot in the centre of your searing chest.
âYes,â he says, sparing you no detail and offering you no misguided pleasantry in the interest of your own sake. He cups your cheeks in both hands this time, keeping your eyes on him, and he uses his thumbs to curl your upper lip and reveal your teeth againâone holds the lip up out of the way while the other dips down to trace over the canine tooth just below that wretchedly aching spot in your gums. âJust think of these like milk teeth.â
He traces along the razor fine edge of your incisor with the very tip of his finger, then across to your canineâcareful, even with all his own strength, not to nick himself on the sharpness.
âRight now, these teeth are meant to shredâto rip and tear through skin and bone and whatever else might be in your way so you can get as much blood as quickly as possible. So you can get stronger,â he says, and his low, gentle voice softens the gruesomeness of his words into something palatable and easy to swallow. âBut your fangs will give you acuity. Precision. Youâll be able to puncture just enough to draw what you need when you feed as you mature.â
You whimper a little when he presses down against your canine, as though terrified it might begin to wiggle under his touch.
âYouâre cutting teeth, thatâs all,â he says simply, and you wish his words were more comforting to hear than they are. He slips his finger out once more and allows your lip to return to its rightful place. He tuts lightly. âBut itâs painful, isnât it?â
You nod a bit, your head dipping as much as itâs able with his hands still cradling your cheeks on either side.
âPoor little thing,â Issei breathes, crowding you a little closer to the wall where youâve been curled up in your misery. âWant me to make you feel better?â
Your back rests flush to Isseiâs chest, two of his fingers pressed deep into your mouth. He has your knees hooked over his thighs and his legs spread to keep you open, and tips of his talented fingers orbit in rhythmic circles around your clit.
It all sounds so wet.
Your mouth. Your pussy. Your shuddering breaths. The racing thump of your heart.
The coil of tension in the pit of your insatiable stomach has nearly wound tight enough to break.Â
How many times has he made you cum in the past nine days? You wonder distantly in your mind. How many more times will he make you cum in the innumerable ones that now lie ahead?
Your head pitches back against Isseiâs shoulder as his mouth laves down the column of your neck. You feel the familiar drag of his teeth along your throat, and the sensation still makes your heart raceâeven though the thumping is little more than vestigial; even though his teeth wont pierce you the way they used to when there was still blood that he craved rushing underneath your once fragile, delicate skin.
âFeel good?â he murmurs into your skin between kisses, and your hips jump in place of an answerâas clear an indicator to your agreement than any words you may be able to offer in reply. His fingertips press a little firmer against the sensitive bud at the apex of your dripping core.
ââSei,â your voice is reedy and wanton as you call for him around his fingers.
âWhat do you need, sweetheart?â
You donât know. Or maybe you do, but your ability to verbalize it has abandoned you along with your sanity.
But youâre needy. You need more. Need something. Need anything.
You shift in his lap, as much as you can given the way heâs holding you, and grind against the firm swell of his cock nestled behind your back. Issei pulls his fingers out from your mouth, the pads of his fingers slipping softly against your lips.
âYeah?â his reply is deep, breathy, âthat what you want?â
You nod, fervent and crazed.
Strangely, you feel a little more normal like thisâa little more like who you used to be. He used to make you feel this frenzied back then too, but now he doesnât need to be as gentle with you as he once was. In spite of that, Issei still touches you like youâre something breakable. Something precious.Â
âHiro will be back soon,â the man above you whispers as he gently lays you flat against the tatami flooring, his nose brushing yours. âAre you hungry?âÂ
It hardly needs to be asked. Youâre always hungry. At least you have been for the past nine days. Thereâs a little pile of crumpled silver packets on one side of the room, long-drained, as evidence to this fact. Hiroâs been bringing you more blood each day, fresh bloodâthat tastes better than the synthetic stuff you find yourself guzzling in the hours in betweenâbut it still doesnât feel like itâs enough to satiate you. Not enough to douse the burn that torches your throat.Â
Youâre not sure where heâs getting it, and you donât ask. The truth is you donât even know where you are.
Prior to turning, Issei and Hiro had asked if you prefer the sea or the forest. The smell of salt air or pine sap. Youâd answered the forest, with fond memories of wandering around the green space in the countryside where your grandparents lived when you were a child. When youâd woken up nine days ago in this big house in the middle of the woods, you realized why theyâd asked you to begin with.Â
Youâre far away from civilization here.
Or rather, civilization is far away from you.
Because youâre the thing that needs to be kept away. Isolated. Contained. All in the best interest of the beating hearts and pumping blood that floods the city youâd once known.Â
The thought of blood rushing under skin, of throngs of people saturated with it, makes your mouth water.
âIssei,â you moan, your sharp teeth gnashing involuntarily at the thought as you cling to him a little tighter. âPlease."
The man hovering over you shushes you gently; a soothing placating sound. âIâm sorry, I know itâs hard,â he murmurs, slipping a hand under the silk of your robe, âitâll get easier, I promise.â
Issei knows it better than anyone, you think. His words a little more comforting because you know heâs speaking from experience. Heâd been just like you once: bloodthirsty and on the brinkâa mind in tatters as it fights to acclimatize to the sudden change of being turned, attempting to knit itself back together into something new. Takahiro had turned him only 100 years ago, after all.Â
Onlyâa part of your brain scoffs, maybe the last rational part thatâs enduredâwhen did 100 years become something you could measure so flippantly?
Issei unfastens the loose tie of your robe at your waist, letting the silky material slip from your body like the flow of water over stone. You donât know whoâd dressed you in it, only that itâs not something youâd pulled on yourself. You hadnât washed or dressed yourself since youâd woken up.
Yet another way youâve been cared for in the time in-between.
Two strong arms cage you in against the floor, a palm resting on either side of your face. Isseiâs body is warm. You like that. He always used to feel so much colder than you did, but now that your body is running at the same temperature his touch feels more ambient.
âHey,â Isseiâs gentle hand takes your chin to turn your gaze towards him, âget out of your head for a minute, okay? Just focus on me. Iâm right here.â
He is, and he has been. He and Hiro both, for the past nine days.
And for a long time before that.
And now forever.
Issei dips forwards and kisses you sweetly, deeply.
He doesnât have to prep you like he used to, because your body isnât fragile in the same ways it once was. You feel the thick head of his cock dragging through the sticky petals of your pussy, and know that you can stretch to accommodate him without any of the discomfort you may have once felt. When he presses inside, you just feel full. You just feel good.
You moan against his mouth as he gives the first few slow thrusts, like heâs letting you get used to it. Like heâs letting you enjoy it.
But itâs not enough.
With newfound strength, a strength youâre not yet fully used to, you roll the two of you over and pin him down against the tatami. Isseiâs eyes are surprised, but not unwilling in the slightest, as he stares up at you with his dark hair fanning away from his face. Your hips begin moving freely, using your new position as leverage. Youâre full, then empty, then full again as you bounce on his lapâthe wet, lewd sound of skin slapping fills the room, but you can scarcely hear it over the thrum of your pulse.
âThatâs it,â Issei groans, praising you. His eyes have gone half-lidded as you ride him, a little smile on his lips. âTake what you need, sweetheart.â
Your hips keep moving, chasing the pleasure thatâs rising in your core. His hand finds yours, and you clasp your hand around his to guide it up your body. First to your chest, where he grabs a handful of your soft, bouncing flesh. He kneads it gently for a moment, his thumb pressing teasingly against the pebbled bud of your nipple. But thatâs not where you want him either, and you keep guiding it up to your mouth.
âCareful,â Isseiâs voice has gone a little raspier now as you bring his fingers to your lips. And youâre trying to be, you really are, but youâre a little too far gone to care that much.Â
He is too.
If you wanted to, heâd let you bite. Let you devour him.
You lick between his knuckles, flicking your tongue up between the digits as saliva drips down to his wrist, all while you keep spearing yourself back down onto his thick, hard cock. You slip the fingertips just past your lips, and moan around the digits when you feel him throb inside of you, your free hand hand fluttering down to your stomach where you swear you might be able to feel him shaping your body to fit him inside. Youâre still grinding down against him, still suckling against his fingers, and Issei is still staring up at you from the floor with a tender, heavy lidded gaze.Â
âI love you,â he murmurs, and god do you know that he means it.
âYeah, love you,â you whimper back, breathy and pitchy and desperate as you let his hand fall from your mouth. You drop down onto your elbows to kiss him, wet and messy, and hope that he knows that you mean it too.
Issei keeps thrusting up into you as your lips slot messily against his, an arm wound around the small of your back to keep you in place as he fucks into you. Youâre lost in the feeling of it, in the pleasure Issei is giving to you, when suddenly light washes over the little room.
âI thought I heard you two in here.â
You squint against the light, your lips still hovering over Isseiâs as you pant. Takahiro leans against the doorframe on the other side of the room, and his gaze sweeps across the scene as he pushes his flashy sunglasses up onto his head, his strawberry hair pinned back underneath them. His red eyes watch you placidly, an amused little smile on his face.
You always found it hard to believe that of the two of them, Hiro was the elder. And not marginallyâHanamaki Takahiro has seen more seasons than all of the towering trees that surround your little safe house combined. Where Issei is solemn and reserved, favouring understated clothes and quiet, Hiro delights in the marvels of the modern era; revels in them. Their stark juxtaposition is part of what had drawn you to them in the first place.Â
Part of what had led you here.
âHiro,â you breathe when you spot him, but then the hair stands up n the back of your neck as you catch the sweet smell of blood in the air.
Something monstrous squirms inside of you; animalistic and feral. You scramble blindly towards it, but Issei keeps you where you are with his arms wrapped around your waist and his cock still inside of you. He pulls you to his chest as you thrash against him. You sob, desperately fighting against his hold. Thereâs an ungodly burning in your throat, saliva dripping from your trembling lips. Then Hiro is in front of you, so quickly so barely see him move, patting your hair back from your face.Â
âShh, shh,â he coos in his smooth, low voice. You blink tears away, swallowing against your mouth full of spit. The ache in you teeth is back, worse now than before, almost as if you can feel the slice of fangs that want to push through your flesh and descend. You want to bite. To rend and tear. Every breath you draw in burns with the delicious fragrance you know is so close. You cling to Issei harder. âBaby, itâs not going anywhere. Youâll feed soon, just calm down. Donât rush.â
Hiro takes your face in his hands, pressing light kisses the edge of your mouth, your cheeks, your nose. In the corner over Hiro's shoulder, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror of the vanity that sits half-uncovered.
You don't recognize the animal that peers back.
Youâre tense even as Hiro coddles you, soothes you, but then Isseiâs hips start moving again. The unexpected sensation punches a carnal, gasping sound out of you and it makes Hiro laugh against your cheek, all air.Â
There are four hands on your body, two mouths against your skin.
âOh, thatâs our girl,â Hiro sounds chipper as you slacken, pressing another kiss to your forehead. âBreathe for us, okay? Just breathe. Itâs okay.â
You hear the sloppy sound of Isseiâs hips meeting yours, and the jingling of Hiroâs belt as he unfastens it with one hand.
You smell the scent of fresh blood, but also the cool early-winter air that clings to the material of Hiroâs coat now that heâs so close, still heavy with the lingering fragrant pine from outside.
You feel pleasure building while they touch you, until it drowns out the ache. Youâre hungry, but the burn isnât quite so vicious. Your teeth hurt, but you find the sting has been soothed.
âResist it for a bitââÂ
Youâre not sure who moves you, but soon youâre splayed out again with your back to the floor, Issei is pinning your wrists down by your face, and both men are looming over you. Hiro looks up at Issei, tucking a tendril of his dark hair behind his ear dotingly. He smiles as he looks back down to you, his touch still lingering on the shell of Isseiâs ear.Â
ââFor us?â
Seconds tick by that you canât keep track of.
But itâs getting easier.
And you have plenty of time to figure it out.
You shut your eyes, nodding slightly as you swallow over the burn in your throat, and you let your mind go blank.
gender-neutral reader. no use of y/n. cleaner support! reader. tamsy has something sinister going on and you can tell. secrets. intimidation. mission fic. wc3.4k
You want to like Tamsy, you really do. Heâs a member of the Cleaners, and good at it too. Reliable, calm, and gets the job done. Whatâs not to like? You ask yourself this every time you have to interact with him, but the heart of the matter is that heâs creepy.
Of course, you canât tell him that. Itâs rude and he has technically done absolutely nothing wrong. In fact, heâs covered you on multiple jobs, so it isnât like heâs harboring any ill will towards you.Â
He makes you uneasy all the same. You canât put your finger on it, but something about him just feels off. He stares straight through you and makes your skin crawl. Every inch of him screams untrustworthy.
At the end of the day, no matter how you try, you do not like Tamsy Caines.
So it really is the gavel to your death sentence when Semiu informs you that thereâs been a change of plans in the schedule. You are to run support for Team Eager for a job outside Canvas Town.Â
Great.
âI canât be transferred?â To literally any other job or team goes unsaid, though it is loudly pronounced in the begging edge your voice takes.
Semiu stares at you, unamused over the rim of her glasses. A raised brow and unshakeable shoulders lay in opposition. Her magazine rests between the two of you on her desk, half buried under the documents she means to push your way.Â
âNot happening, weâre spread thin as it is.âÂ
You resist the urge to whine. Youâre an adult. You can do this. Just as you begin to mentally hype yourself up, Semiu picks up the brief mission statement again. A pensive knowing hum slips past her lips.Â
âYou might have to get used to Team Eager,â she drums her fingers slightly. âUntil we can pick up a few more supporters.â
Your heart sinks, sending a lightning bolt of misery to crack apart your already flimsy resolve. Oh, come on.Â
âSemiu,â you give her your best kicked puppy face. âYou canât mean that.â
âI do,â her lips quirk slightly. She glances behind you, but you pay it little mind as you consider begging Corvus himself to let you stay as a floater supporter running primarily for Team Child. Ah, but what would you even say to defend your plea?Â
You donât like Tamsy? Why? Because he has a weird vibe but has never actually done anything to make you think so. You can already picture Corvusâ disbelieving look, and scrap the idea entirely. Whatever. You are committed to the cleaners and their mission, even if youâre stuck too close to Tamsy for a bit. It canât be forever.Â
âThere you are,â a new voice startles you out of your thoughts. You grimace, the ever present balmy edge of Tamsyâs words doing nothing to soothe you. Instead, it makes your skin prick up.
Fixing your expression to something a little more neutral, you glance over your shoulder to look at him. You hadnât even heard him come in.Â
âReady to head off?â he continues with that same airy voice that belies a subtle expectancy for you to hurry up and agree.Â
His gas mask hangs loosely around his neck, the tip of his distaff just barely visible where he keeps it hidden inside his sleeves. Golden eyes stare you down.Â
You swallow, aiming for relaxed and not at all irritated and unsettled as you smile. âSure am, are the others ready?â
âMhm,â Tamsy hums an agreement. You say your somewhat begrudging goodbyes to Semiu and trail after him and out to the car.
Itâs quiet, save for the tapping of your shared footsteps on the tiles of HQ and then the soft crunch on sandy gravel.Â
Tamsy steps in front of you once the car comes into sight, Delmon already at the wheel. Internally wincing at the rough drive to come, you watch as Tamsy opens the back door for you. He gestures calmly, a silent âget in.âÂ
Itâs kind, a little out of his way, but despite how uneasy the man makes you, he acts more or less like a gentleman. And not in the somewhat chauvinistic way that Enjin can be prone to.Â
Tamsy clears his throat slightly. Your ears heat as you realize youâve been standing and staring in silence. âThanks,â you mumble hastily, climbing into the car and settling onto the worn leather seats.Â
Youâre pretty sure Tamsy laughs at you, but the door shuts behind you quick enough to make you think you imagined it. His phantom chuckle curls its way into your chest that makes you dizzy in a bad way.Â
Tamsy slides into the passenger seat next to Delmon. A moment later, the idling engine roars to life and Team Eager is off.Â
Itâs not supposed to be a hard job, a simple and easy clear out as a pre-emptive preventative measure and to put the townspeople at ease. So, Semiu had only sent you, Delmon, and Tamsy.Â
In other words, there are no other people to distract yourself with, forced to be cognizant of Tamsy even in the short drive out. And cognizant you are made to be.
ââdo you?â Tamsyâs voice floats back to you.
âWhat?â you ask intelligently. His eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror, mildly amused at your inattention.Â
âI said,â he smiles slightly, âdo you have a favorite flower? Delmon wants to know.â
âOh,â you pause, wracking your brain. âNot really, I donât think I could name more than three.â Flowers are hard to come by here, youâve never actually put that much thought into it.Â
Tamsy hums at that, finally looking away and back at Delmon. âSee, what did I say?âÂ
Those casual words make your cheeks heat slightly. How long were they talking? They were talking about you in front of you? What the hell.Â
More importantly, Tamsy was discussing youâŠ? The embarrassment is quickly repackaged as unease. Worse still that you werenât paying attention at all.  Â
Delmon shakes his head, pushing past Tamsyâs apparent belief that you wouldnât have a favorite flower with conviction. âCome to my garden some time, weâll go through them.â
âIt is rather beautiful," Tamsy agrees. Itâs all the encouragement Delmon needs to launch into another gardening related spiel that never fails to make your head spin.Â
You resist the urge to sigh. Delmon means well, and you know how much the garden means to him. You sink back into the seat, letting his words pour in one ear and out the other. The car continues to rattle onwards to your destination.Â
The walls of Canvas Town come into view just when youâre starting to wonder how poor of an idea it would be to open the door and hop out. There are no trash beasts in sight, but that doesnât mean they arenât lurking around here somewhere.Â
âThey are supposed to be a little further out,â Tamsy says, looking out the window. You can see how his gaze roves over the mountains of trash, searching for any signs of movement. You do the same.
As far as you can see are just mountains of trash, bits of rusted metal sticking out at odd angles, everything covered in a layer of grime that makes you rather thankful for the mask you have to wear outside of the cities.Â
Of course, the sheer amount of junk irritates you as well. How could it not? The sphere drops everything they donât feel like using seemingly on a whim so it rains down and pollutes the ground even further. There is talk that soon enough the whole ground may become inhabitable.
Your thoughts are startled out by Delmonâs shout. In the distance, emerging from one of the mountains of trash, or maybe it is one of the mountains itself, a trash beast is getting to its legs. A cascade of garbage slides off its back as it straightens out.
âThere!â his voice raises far higher than it needs to, but it is not unexpected. Tamsy evidently shares your sentiment, pressing a tired hand to his brow.
âDo lower your voice,â he says. âWe can see them quite fine.â For once, you might genuinely agree with him.Â
As if on cue, three other piles nearby begin to shift too. Wasnât this supposed to be a small and easy jobâŠ
Delmon parks the car. Vaguely, you hope that it doesnât get crushed in the ensuing fight. It doesnât happen frequently, but it does happen.Â
Tamsy is out of the car before either of you. You fumble with your seatbelt and, ensuring your mask is firmly in place, your feet hit the sandy plains that currently shake from the force of the trash beasts slamming their feetâwhatâs close enough to their feet anywayâinto the ground.Â
The impact recoils up into your chest, a harsh pounding that jolts through you. Tamsy stands a little in front of you, covering Delmon.Â
You ready yourself too. You donât think youâll have much to do, but preparedness is always a far better option in places like this.Â
Tamsy glances at you for a moment, long and assessing. Your skin crawls. Before you can react properly, his attention has already left you.Â
His jinki slips from his sleeve, a faint glow beginning to wrap around it. âTokushin,â Tamsyâs voice rings out, calm and unwavering like he already knows how long this fight will take and what he plans to do after it.Â
Fuck this guy for real.
His distaff elongates, fingers curled around the thing as he watches the trash beasts from under his lashes. The base of it clinks against the ground, an almost musical chord played over top of the cacophony of whatever allows the trash beasts to make the sort of noises they do.Â
Itâs a striking visual, making you pause every time at his effortless and steady demeanor even in the face of danger. He would almost be pretty if it wasnât for the way the contrast makes your skin crawl.
You arenât afforded much more time to ponder Tamsy, the trash beasts getting themselves together and lunging in a concentrated effort. Distantly, you wonder if they can communicate amongst themselves.Â
With that riveting thought, youâre thrown into the fray. You stay away from Delmon and Tamsy and let them take the brunt of it, but you pull your own weight. It leaves you breathless by the end. The sound of metal ripping buzzes around your ears, gaze unwittingly trailing back to Tamsy as he has one of the beasts pulled apart with his threads.Â
Itâs a little eerie. The beast shrieks higher over the others, the blue yarn that functions more as rope aiding the creaking sound of fortified trash splitting at the seams. Tamsy watches impassively, leaning slightly on his distaff. He almost looks bored.Â
It reminds you of a scene from a book you once read, something that had been picked up once the sphere had tossed it down. It was hardly damaged, just water stains and a few easily taped rips on a handful of pages.Â
The point being a description of an execution. Rope tied to each limb of the victim, the other end attached to horses. Quartering, you think is the term. That is what you see in front of you, a loud screech of metal as one of the beast's limbs finally rip away. It makes your stomach turn a bit, worse still how Tamsy watches from under his lashes.Â
It is only a trash beast, you exterminate them as your job, but the whole thing is on the edge of terrible. The noise, Tamsyâs casual indifference, all of it. Every part of him makes you feel dizzy. You look away from the scene, choosing to scour the horizon instead and watch for possible movement.Â
There is nothing, of course. The last of the trash beasts giving Canvas Town trouble are behind you. You fix your gaze at the sky, the blue running with the white streaks of the clouds. You are acutely aware of your back being turned to Tamsy, but the alternative is facing him, and you don't want to do that either.
âAh, and that should be the last of them,â Tamsyâs voice rings out across the sudden silence, composed in ways that make your head spin. Only then do you turn around, sparing the briefest of glances towards the mangled hunks of metal laying around you before you scan for Delmon.Â
You spot him to your left, disentangling himself from a piece of rubber scrap. He makes his way over, watering can in hand. You wave slightly, observing the remaining wreckage that lays scattered in the sand. Metal sticks up at odd ends, sharp and jagged and rust eaten. The idea of physically touching it makes you recoil a bit, thinking of the inevitable trip to Eishia to get cuts looked at and cleaned up.Â
Not for the first time, you are glad the cleaners you are sent with have a degree of competency that means you are not frequently injured. Even if that includes Tamsy and his terrible casual self confidence. The sound of shrieking metal tearing down the center orients itself back in your consciousness.Â
Delmon is in front of you suddenly, clapping you on the shoulder hard enough to make you stumble, congratulating you for a job well done. You smile despite the ache pulsing under your skin, patting the back of his hand with the same enthusiasm. Â
âYes, you too,â you nod along. âYou make it look so easy.âÂ
Delmon laughs, shaking you a bit with the force of it. You will yourself not to wince. Only then does he mercifully release you, setting his sights on Tamsy to repeat the process. His jinki is shrunk down now, hidden somewhere in his sleeveâdoes he have a pocket for it? How does it never slip outâhis gaze meets yours just as Delmonâs hand comes down on his shoulder in the same congratulatory enthusiasm that you had soldiered through.Â
Golden eyes stare for a very long moment, picking you apart like a bug pinned to the wall. Your breath catches in your throat. Itâs an almost inexplicable reaction. Tamsy has never done anything to you. He is nothing but cordial to you. That does not stop the way your heart stutters and fear flashes through you, tingling down your spine.Â
He always looks at you like that. You arenât sure if he looks at other people like that, but he certainly looks at you like that. As if he is picking you apart and hasnât decided what to do with the pieces; put them back together, or discard them on the ground? It is an almost nauseating feeling.Â
What can you say about it, anyway? The way you look at me, people, makes me sick with nerves? I think youâre annoying and I hate you for no real reason at all? Right. If you didnât know better, you might say Tamsy smiles slightly beneath his gas mask before his attention goes to the man still forcing him to sway in time with his voice.Â
You nudge a metal shell with the toe of your boot. It glints in the sun. You catch the tail end of Delmon saying, yelling really, that he is going to start the car. He leaves you and Tamsy alone just long enough for Tamsy to turn to you.Â
âI have the distinct impression you do not like me,â Tamsy comments, startling you out of your staring. His voice is muffled slightly through his mask. âHave I done something to upset you?âÂ
You flinch a little. What are you supposed to say to that? Yes? His existence upsets you?
âNo,â tumbles from your lips a little too fast. You grimace. âNo, itâs not that.â Which sounds worse, actually. Tamsy tilts his head slightly, waiting for you to go on. You donât have anything to say that would neatly dig you out of this hole, so you glance to the side and pray the trashbeast Tamsy had vivisected miraculously comes back to life and ends this conversation.
As it turns out, that has not happened and probably will not happen. Heâs still watching you. You can feel his gaze, somehow heavy and distant at once. Taking the downbeat to shake yourself internally, you force a smile.Â
âThat came out wrong, you havenât upset me or anything and itâs not that I donât like you,â you wave your hand slightly, âI do, youâre very reliable.âÂ
He is, and that might be the worst part of all. You donât have any good reason not to like him.Â
âAre you afraid of me?â he asks next. He looks almost surprised by the very notion of it. As if his expression while slowly tearing the trash beast apart isnât seared behind your eyes, not counting every other subtle thing he does that makes you hyper aware of your own body and rapid heart.Â
âNo,â you shake your head in denial again. This time, he seems to believe you even less. Tamsy regards you quietly before he glances in the direction of the car. Your shoulders slump with an exhale in relief.Â
âMhm,â Tamsy hums after a moment, and you know with devastating clarity that he does not believe you in the slightest. Not even an ounce of suspended disbelief. However, he mercifully lets it drop, though you canât help but wonder where heâs storing the information. âWell, let us not make Delmon wait.âÂ
He tilts his head towards the idling car, the fly-aways of his hair bouncing slightly with the movement, a gesture for you to go first. Not for the first time, you donât want your back to him.Â
You nod with a smile. Hopefully it isnât as tight as it feels. âRight, of course.âÂ
The short walk over is silent, sand shifting underfoot the only sound to cover the way your heart beats. Tamsy steps in front of you as you reach for the door handle, your irritation flashing before you register that heâs opened the door for you.Â
He stares at you again before he makes an over exaggerated motion, waving with his hand for you to get in the car. âAfter you,â he says, his voice just as light as always. Your chest squeezes. You canât prove it, but you know heâs mocking you and your fear. You can see the barest shift of his expression around the edges of his mask.Â
Heâs smiling.Â
You swallow. At least you know heâs being intentional now.Â
âThanks,â you mumble and climb up into the seats, the interior warm from resting in the sun while the trash beasts were dealt with. Tamsy hums and hops in next to you, claiming the window seat. The door shuts with a thud.Â
You glance at Tamsy out of the corner of your eye as you click your seat belt in place. Heâs too close to you, coat creeping across the empty seat between you. Tamsy isnât looking at you, his gaze is slanted out the window as he reaches behind his head to unclip his mask, as if you were something to mess with in the moment but no longer have any merit.Â
No, thatâs not true. Tamsy is always like this, laid-back and quiet and in his own bubble. It feels different now, somehow, but you canât put a name to it. Maybe thatâs for the best. That might make you spiral more. Besides, you need to stay alert until youâre back at HQ.Â
Still, you look at him a bit longer as you unhook your own mask. The silver ball under his lip catches the sunlight, pale lashes almost glowing as the light filters through the window. Streaks of sun spill across your lap.Â
The car lurches slightly as Delmon presses the gas, prompting you back. You turn your head to look out the opposite window, watching the unmoving horizon. Youâre hyperaware of Tamsy next to you, but you refuse to look over again and risk meeting his eye. You have had enough of that for today, your stomach still doing flips.
You arenât sure what to do with the fact Tamsy knows and he knows you know he knows. So, you do the next best thing you can think of. You put it in a little box in your head and hit it with a hammer. Tamsy is awful, surely his earlier mocking of you was done in jest, right? Right.Â
Awful. You donât even believe the words yourself. You close your eyes. This is going to be a very long temporary re-assignment to Team Eager. Semiu better not have been lying when she called it temporary.
Summary: Before you can expose him to the others, he takes everything from you.
Warnings: Blinding (literally), kidnapping, forced dependence, gaslighting, body horror, forced cuddling, slightly Stockholm syndrome at the end, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Author's Notes: N/A
You neverâeverâthought Tamsy would go this fucking far.
In a squad like the Cleaners, you were supposed to have each other's backs; you, Delmon, and Tamsy were a team. And three of you had spent years in the trenches together. He was the crap-tastically good guy who always had a witty remark or a helping hand when the trashbeast tried to swallow you whole.
But you knew. You knew he was the one behind Amo's disappearance and torment.
"Don't you think Tamsy's been... a little too calm?" you began. "Even after everything with Amo?"
"Give it a rest," Riyo groaned from where she was lounging.
Zanka didn't even look up from polishing his Jinki. "He's always calm. Tamsy has been doing his best to keep everyone's spirits up," he replied dismissively. "Stop throwing around accusations because you're freaking yourself out."
Across the room, Enjin sat slouched in a chair, reviewing mission notes. He hadn't joined the conversation, but you could tell he was listening. That alone gave you enough courage to continue.
"You seriously haven't noticed anythingâ"
Right at that moment, the door slid open.
"Did I hear my name?"
Tamsy stepped inside, a paper bag tucked under his arm and his blond hair swept back in effortless disarray. The overhead lights glinted off his scar just before he smiled brightly at the room. "I brought food before Riyo ate everything again."
"Too late." Zanka snorted despite himself.
He hopped off a crate and moved toward you, his oversized sleeves swinging. "You look absolutely exhausted. I told you, I can help you with some meditative work later."
He reached out, his hand hovering near your face in a gesture that looked like a comforting pat to the others. You flinched, the movement sharp and ugly.
"Whoa, easy there," Tamsy laughed, a soft, genuine-sounding chuckle as he looked at Zanka, Riyo, and Enjin. "Don't get so worked up, you know I'm always looking out for you, right?"
Riyou sighed, finally looking at you with genuine worry. "See? Even he's worried."
For one second, you thought you saw amusement flicker behind his eyes.
Then it vanished.
"I got your favorite, too." Tamsy held the paper bag out toward you.
The sheer audacity of it nearly made you nauseous.
You hesitated to reach out, and Tamsy's expression softened almost imperceptibly.
"You really don't trust me that much?" he asked quietly, almost like he was wounded. "I even sent Delmon off to finish the perimeter checks so we could have a moment of peace. I know how much his... fretting over you has been wearing you down lately. But if you'd rather have him here than me, just say the word."
You knew if you refused, you'd only look more unstable. So, you took the bag. "Thanks, Tamsy. I guess I am hungrier than I thought."
"That's more like it," he smiled.
Frustration clawed at your insides, a frantic, trapped bird beating its wings against your ribs.
Behind him, Riyo went back to his lounging, and the sunlight hit the iridescent fabric of Tamsy's oversized sleeves. He looked so normalâso kind.
Tamsy glanced around the cramped, dimly lit room, his nose wrinkling in distaste. "You know, it's getting a bit stale in here," he said, gesturing toward the door with the paper bag. "Why don't we finish this outside? Some fresh air might help clear your head."
"Definitely," Riyo chimed in, leaning back. "Go bond a bit. You guys used to be inseparable before all this Amo business started."
You stiffened, the knowledge of what he'd done to Amo burning like acid in your throat. But when you looked at Enjin and the others, they only gave you encouraging nods.
"It'll be good for you," Even Zanka paused, gesturing with his staff toward the exit.
"See? Everyone thinks this is a great idea," Â he chuckled, a soft, genuine-sounding sound that almost made you believe your own clue was the one that was wrong.Â
Every instinct told you not to. But another, uglier thought slithered beneath it: If he really wanted to hurt you, wouldn't he have done it already?
So eventually, against your better judgment, you followed him.
As you walked, he talked about mundane thingsâthe best shops for sweets in town, how Delmon's snoring was getting worse, and how he missed the feeling of roller skating. He was so normal that you started to feel the edges of your paranoia fraying. Lately, while everyone looked at you differently, Tamsy treated you exactly as he always had as if your accusations never offended him.
Maybe I am just tired, you thought. Maybe I've just been jumping at shadows.
"You've been avoiding everyone," he noted.
"People are avoiding me," you snapped, gripping the bag so hard the paper crinkled.
"I don't think that's true."
"Of course you wouldn't."
"Hm." His smile turned faintly amused. "No. I think people just don't know what to say to you lately."
"Because they think I'm insane," you let out a dry laugh.
Tamsy didn't laugh back. He was quiet for a long moment, the only sound the distant whistle of the wind through the exposed pipes overhead. Then, he spoke. "I don't think you're insane."
The answer came so gently, your chest tightened unexpectedly.
You looked at him, bewildered. To stop the trembling of your lip, you tore the sandwich from the bag and shoved a massive, clumsy bite into your mouth. You chewed aggressively, the taste of the bread like dust, using the food as a barrier to keep from saying anything else.
Tamsy watched you, the streetlight reflecting off the silver line of his scar. "You've been anxious for weeks," he said softly. "Anyone would start unraveling eventually."
As you chewed, the edges of your reality began to blur. Were you imagined everything? Maybe they were right, stress had poisoned your head, and you were trying to create a villain because uncertainty felt worse.
You stared ahead at the dim alleyway stretching before you and swallowed hard. "I don't know what's wrong with me lately."
Tamsy didn't mock you. He just looked at you for a long moment before offering a small, tired smileâa smile that looked nothing like the monster you'd spent weeks building in your head. He moved to the railing, and for a while, the only sound was the wind.
"...Do you still think I hurt Amo?"
The question struck so suddenly your pulse stumbled.
You looked at him sharply, but Tamsy was just leaning lazily against the metal, his gaze lost in the dark abyss below.
"I..." Your voice faltered.
He glanced back at you, and suddenly you felt ashamed.
How could you have been so sure? You felt monstrous for projecting such vileness onto a teammate who did nothing but look out for you even while you treated him like a leper. Maybe what you saw the other day was justâ
"...I don't know anymore."
The confession tasted awful, but also strangely relieving.
Tamsy's smile softened.
Before you could even flinch, his hand clamped over your mouth, stifling your scream, while the other moved with a blur of motion you couldn't track.
"You see too much," he whispered into your ear, his breath warm but his tone as cold as ice. "It's your best quality, and your worst. I just can't have you ruining the masterpiece I'm building for Rudo."
You didn't see the distaff of Tokushin appear, but you felt a sensation like a cold splash of water across your face, and then the fire. It felt as if two red-hot wires had been dragged through your sockets, slicing through the surface of your eyes.
Violet and gold light flared in a final, agonizing strobe before bleeding out into a thick, featureless grey soup that swallowed the world whole.
You collapsed, clawing at your face, but he caught you before you hit the ground, cradling your head against his chest.
Why couldn't you seeâ
why couldn't youâ
You whimpered, "Tamsyâ"
"There," he cooed, his hands gently caught your wrists before your nails could dig into your ruined eyes. "I didn't want this for you, but you wouldn't stop."
You tried to blink, to rub whatever is covering your vision. You were staring wide-eyed at the man who had just unmade your reality, and all you could perceive was a milky, throb of light where his dual-colored eyes used to be.
âThis isn't happening, you told yourself. The thought was the only greenlight, and you grabbed it with both hands. Heâs playing a prank. A sick, twisted prank. Any second now, heâs going to laugh, snap his fingers, and the threads will dissolve. My eyes will clear. Iâll see the stupid, smug grin on his face and Iâll punch him, and weâll go get drinks with Delmon.
"Tell me you wouldn't... you couldn't do this, Tamsy," you pleaded, your voice rising to a jagged edge of hysteria. "You're my teammate. Please. Iâll take it backâeverything I said about Amo. I was wrong. I was just tired. Just tell me you're still Tamsy."
His thumb brushed carefully against your shaking hand:
"You're messy and you're loud and you're right. I really do like passionate people."
_
The "nothing" wasn't the black you expected.
It wasn't black. Black was a color you rememberedâthe ink on a page, the depth of the Pit, the shade of Tamsy's cruel, clever eyes. What you had now was just an absence. It was like trying to see through the back of your skull. There is no visual field at all, just a lack of any sensation in that area where your peripheral vision used to be.
At first, you refused his help, but blindness makes every basic task humiliatingly difficult. He hadn't taught you a single thing about how to live like this; he hadn't taught you how to count steps or to read Braille. Eventually, the exhaustion won, and Tamsy was always there, never once angered by your resistance. He successfully forced you into a state of total dependence, unable to even find a door without his hand on your elbow. He has become the sun and the moon of your existence; he feeds you like a child and takes care of every single aspect in your life. The shame of itâthe sheer, staggering humiliation of needing him to even wash youâburns hotter than the threads that blinded you.
Without vision, there's no easy distraction. You can't read, wander freely or track time naturally. Your existence has narrowed to the sound of his footsteps and the texture of the fabric beneath your numb fingers. To keep your sanity intact, you spoke aloud to yourself. Today, you told yourself the last time you went to the Canvas Town. But halfway through, you couldn't remember what it looks like. A lot of colors? Was there mold on the walls? You still knew your name â you said it sometimes, just to be sure. But a terrifying thought keeps you awake in the grey: if you ever forgot it, would anyone even know you were gone?
With nothing to do throughout the day, depression and sensory deprivation make you sleep a lot. You'd attempt to escape a few times by fumbling for walls, weeping as you feel for locks, but the failure is always the same.
You sat on the edge of the bed (or what you assumed was the edge) and stared into the static. Your eyes ached with a phantom itch you couldn't scratch; it was a stinging reminder of the threads that had sliced across your vision before the world snapped.
Then, the light changed.
You didn't see the door open. But suddenly, the "nothing" on the left side of your face felt thinner. A pale, milky grey filtered into your consciousness. It was a ghostly suggestion of heat that told you the sun was up, or perhaps he had entered with a candle. It wasn't a colorâyou couldn't tell if it was white or yellow or the orange-blue glow of his dual irises. It was just a dull, throbbing sensation that made your head swim.
You flinched, pulling back until your spine hit a wall you hadn't realized was so close. The rough stone bit into your shoulder blades.
"Is it too bright?" his voice drifted over you, sounding far too much like a friend's concern.
You didn't answer. You reached out a hand, fingers trembling, trying to find a landmark. You touched something cold and ceramicâa plate? You moved too fast, and the clatter of it hitting the floor.
The grey smudge in your vision moved. He was walking toward you.
"You're making such a mess," he sighed, and the grey light grew stronger as he leaned in. "Don't touch that, you'll cut yourself. Let me."
You sat there with these useless, open eyes, looking at nothing and seeing everything that was now lost to you. They were marvelous organs once, windows to your soul, and now they were just unmoving opaque walls. He hadn't just taken your sight. He'd taken your hands, your feet, your very ability to cross a room without falling.
You closed your eyes (as if that made a difference) and felt the hot, frustrated tears track through the grime on your cheeks. You felt the bed dip, the mattress groaning slightly under his weight.
"Oh, look at you. Don't cry," he cooed, his tone genuinely pained by your distress. You felt a damp, warm cloth touch your face. You tried to jerk away, but his hand was already on your shoulder as he began to wipe the tears from your cheeks.
"I made some soup. It's the kind you like, with the little noodles," he said, as if he hadn't spent the morning ensuring you'd never see a bowl of soup again. "I'll leave it on the tray. It's right in front of your knees. Don't reach for it yet, it's still steaming."
"Why are you doing this?" you whispered.
"Doing what? Cleaning up?" You heard the soft clink of a spoon against a bowl. "Someone has to. You've always been a bit clumsy, but this is a new record, even for you."
"There," he said, and you felt his thumb brushing a stray tear he'd missed. "I'm going to go get a broom for the plate. Just stay exactly where you are. Don't move an inch, okay? I don't want you getting hurt."
He stood up, the grey smudge of him moving back toward the door.
"I'll be right back," he called out, his footsteps receding. "I found a book of poetry I think you'll like. I'll read it to you after dinner."
You sat exactly where Tamsy had left you, your useless eyes tracking the phantom heat of the grey smudge that signaled his presence in the room. You still didn't know what to do with your eyesâshould you keep them open? Should you close them? Either way, the static was the same.
After a while, the light shifted as Tamsy knelt before you. You heard the soft clink of ceramic against a tray.
"Open up for me," he murmured, his voice cheerful and bright, as if he were simply waking you from a midday nap. "I made sure the noodles were soft. You haven't been eating enough lately, and I can't have you getting thin."
You felt the warmth of the spoon against your lower lip. You wanted to fight, to spit the food back at him, but your hunger was a desperate, ugly thing that forced you to comply. You opened your mouth, and he fed you with a careful hand, waiting for each swallow as if he had all the time in the world.
"There. Good as new," he said. When you were finished, he used a warm, damp cloth to wipe the corners of your mouth, his fingers lingering for a second against your jaw.
He didn't get up to leave. Instead, he shifted onto the cot, pulling you back until your spine was pressed against his chest. You felt the weight of him as he leaned back against the headboard, effectively turning his body into your new horizon.
"I found that book I mentioned," he said, and you heard the soft rustle of pages turning. "It's some old poetry. I think you'll appreciate the imagery, even if you can't see it right now."
You flinched as he leaned his head against yours, a sickly sweet gesture of affection that made your stomach churn. His voice was steady and calm, the words of the poem flowing over you like a gentle tide.
"Rudo asked about you again this morning," he added casually between stanzas, his cheek nuzzling against yours like a cat. "He's so earnest, it's almost heartbreaking. He wanted to bring you some interesting scrap he found in the disposal zone. As for Delmonâ"
"I don't care."
"Don't be like that," he whispered, his head finally coming to rest in the crook of your shoulder. "I've already told the Cleaners you've left for a long journey. They were so supportive because you were so stressed out lately. They really are a great family, aren't they?"
"Though Enjin was a bit more difficult, of course. Always the watchful father," Tamsy continued, pulling you tighter into a suffocating cuddle. "But I just showed him a few 'notes' I wrote in your handwritingâwell, a close enough approximationâsaying you needed time to process everything alone. He's so busy with the higher-ups that he was actually relieved to have one less person to worry about."
He nuzzled into your neck one last time. "See? Everyone is happy. Don't be so bitter."
You squeezed your useless eyes shut until the poem trailed off. You felt the bedframe groan as Tamsy shifted his weight again. Without a word, he pulled you down with him, maneuvering your limp body until you were lying flat on the narrow mattress.
You were too exhausted to fight him. Until now, his hair had always been styled up. But as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, a curtain of heavy, silken strands cascaded over your shoulders. It was far longer than you'd imagined, cool and fine like spun glass.
The white-blond strands (from your memory) draped over your throat, across your chest, and tangled between your fingers. It wasn't his Jinkiânot technicallyâbut the sensation was identical. Every time you tried to shift your arm or tilt your head away from his persistent, cat-like nuzzling, the hair snagged. It clung to your skin, wrapping around your limbs in an organic, suffocating web.
"You know," he said. "I've been wondering. How did you actually figure it out?"
You lay there, staring at the ceiling you could no longer perceive. You had nothing left to lose, there was no point in struggling in the grey void.
"The threads," you whispered, your voice sounding thin and jagged in the quiet. "I found a single strand snagged on Amo's collar after she was rescued, and another one at the site where she struggled. It was a color I'd only ever seen on your Jinki, Tokushin."
Tamsy didn't flinch. He actually let out a soft, delighted hum, his nose brushing against your temple. "That's it? Is that all? Seems a bit flimsy for an accusation."
"I know," you said, the bitterness rising like bile. "The silk didn't really prove much. But it was the way you looked at me when I showed them to you."
You remembered the way he had watched you handle those threadsânot with the concern of a comrade, instead, it was the look of a spider that had long ago ceased to fear the escape of its guest. You felt him watching you bridge the distance between suspicion and certainty, his eyes drinking in your dawning horror.
"You didn't even try to hide it once we were alone," you said, your breath hitching as his hair tightened slightly around your neck. "I know it was you, I saw the way you looked at me then, you watched me realize it was your silk. You wanted me to see it."
Tamsy let out a long, contented sigh, nuzzling deeper into the crook of your neck. His hair felt like a shroud now, weaving you into him strand by strand.
"I really do love how observant you are," he whispered, his voice thick with a terrifyingly genuine warmth. "It's a shame, really. If you'd stayed quiet, we could have shared the joke together."
He moved his face against yours again, rubbing his cheek over your skin. With every brush, more hair caught against your clothes, weaving you into him. You understood then, that he hadn't merely been hiding his crimesâhe had been nurturing them, savoring the secret that you were the only one who truly saw him.
A new wave of hot, bitter tears spilled over once more, jagged sobs racking your chest as you gasped for air in the hollow nothingness of your vision.
Tamsy didn't pull away or mock you. Instead, he adjusted his hold, shifting so that he was cupping the back of your head, his long, white-blond hair still weaving around your shoulders like a silken shroud. He was so patient, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone to catch the salt before it could reach the mattress.
"Shh, there now," he whispered, his voice as calm and melodic as it was when he was the crap-tastically good guy everyone relied on. "You're overthinking again. It's exhausting, isn't it? Just let it go."
Your hands, once trembling with a futile need to push him away, slowly went limp against his chest. With a shuddering breath, your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as your arms moved upward to finally return the hug.
You felt his entire body go rigid, his heart hammering a frantic, ecstatic rhythm against your own ribs. Then, a low, guttural sound vibrated in his chest. His fingers were digging into your back as he pulled you so close you felt like you were being absorbed into his very skin. The grey static of your vision throbbed with his proximity, but he didn't pull back.
"You've been cooped up in here too long," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I'll let you go out tomorrow. I think you're ready for a change of pace, since you were so honest with me today."
The promise should have tasted like wine, but they felt like a new kind of cage. You couldn't move without him, nor could you perceive the world he so gallantly offered to show you. You would be out, but you would still be entirely his, a bird with broken wings and no eyes to find the horizon.
"I'll be right beside you the whole time," he added, leaning back just enough to brush his nose against yours. "I'll be your sight, and I'll make sure you don't trip. Doesn't that sound nice?"
He held you, his hair weaving into yours until you couldn't tell where you ended and he began.Â
situationship fratkuna tells his friends how you're always so needy for his attention. . . but you know better & now so does he
pleading, offering nights of hot sex, and grovelling at your feet is a new low. even for sukuna.
but you're reeeal petty.
"baby, y'know i wasn'tâ fuck, I wasn't bein' serious. . ."
sukuna groans, deep in chest, dragging his lips up to your shin then to your knee until he finally settles his cheek against the soft skin of your thigh. he nuzzles his nose into you, inhaling your scent like an addict.
if any of his frat brothers see where he is now, on his knees with his fingers wrapped loosely around your ankles to keep you from pushing him away, he'd never hear the end of it.
"you think i'm too clingy, kuna?"
the question sounds innocent enough, however, with the way you're peering down at him from the edge of your bed in nothing but a bra and some little lace panties is anything but innocent.
"nah, baby, course not." sukuna's palms glide down the backs of your calves, massaging the muscles coaxingly.
your foot nudges his chubbing thickness in his boxers and he pants hotly, sinking his blunt nails into the backs of your calves almost pathetically.
and he was the one calling you clingy?
sukuna swallows thickly, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he forces the words from his lips.
He'd treat you like his little lab rat. All collared and chained in his hidden basement to do all sorts of experiments on you.
He would inject you with DNA to grow cat like appendages. A cute fluffy tail and the softest ears that'd flick and startle in alertness anytime you heard the steps of his shoes approaching.
At first you would fight him, using your new sharp claws and biting at him. He would get scratched up and making him bleed would be the one pleasure you could afford in this hellhole but eventually you're forced to seek him out.
He would leave for hours on end. The isolation would be draining. You craved companionship and when he finally thin you've learned your lesson he would welcome you back with open arms. He would pet your head and coo in your ears about how good you were. You would purr and preen at his praises, the feline part of your body grasping for any ounce of affection.
Slowly you would grow dependent on him. He would notice your walls breaking. You would purr anytime he touched you. Would wait by the door to welcome him in with a big smile, just waiting to hear his praises of how good you've been. Eventually he would deem you ready to leave the basement. But of course he needs precautions in case you get any ideas.
He would click a cute bell collar on your neck and attach a leash on you, and just like a real cat he would insert a chip into you. You would never be able to escape him. But at this point that would be the last thing on your mind. Finally after months of training he had you all pliant and soft just for him.
----
Hope you guys enjoy this! I just wrote everything that came to mind on the spot. I got inspired to write this because I saw artwork of dotorre doing experiments on aether đ€€
Let me know if you want more or I'd you have ideas to build off on! Who knows. Maybe I'll write an actual fic or work on this more to refine the idea.
âą bf!tamsy who always accommodates for what you lack in height whenever you want to kiss him or touch his faceâleaning down without complaint, but only after watching you pout a little first.
âcareful now, angel,â he murmurs, âyouâll strain your achilles.â
đ„ bf!tamsy who lightly taps your cheek with his index finger when you zone out, head tilting as his gaze softens.
ââŠare you paying attention, hm?â
âą bf!tamsy who sends you off to missions with a feather-light kiss pressed to your temple, gentle enough to barely lingerâwhile, unbeknownst to you, his tokushin slips an almost impossible-to-notice thread around your finger.
for safety purposes, of course.
đ„ bf!tamsy who, after enough nagging, finally gives in and lets you see the scars spread across his chest, eyes softening despite himself as you trace the jagged edges with the light drag of a fingernail.
âą bf!tamsy who takes one look at the tear in your clothes and doesnât even consider sending you to august. absolutely not. he quietly takes them from your hands, needle already threaded, because thereâs no way in hell heâs going to allow that scatterbrained man lay his fingers on fabric thatâs been against your skin.
đ„ bf!tamsy who lets you curl up on his lap without a word, you pepper soft kisses along his cheek, and he waitsâpatient, indulgentâas they drift closer to his lips. when your bottom lip brushes his labret piercing, it catches just enough to remind you itâs there, cool metal against warmth.
âą bf!tamsy who feels the moment you lose focus, fingers coming up to toy with it instead, curiosity overtaking intent. a quiet chuckle slips from him at that, fond, as his finger brushes against your hip.
đ„ bf!tamsy who sings you lullabies when you tell him you feel restless. his slight accent catching onto the tips of his melodized words. the cadence deems itself unfamiliar to your ears, however, itâs hard to care when you drift off within minutes every time.
âą bf!tamsy who always makes sure you end up seated beside him in the car whenever enjin ropes team eager into another mission with team akuta. he lets you rest your head against his collarboneâbut only on the ride back, when the job is done and youâve already worked yourself thin doing exactly what was asked of you.
đ„ bf!tamsy who fights the muscles in his face, forcing them into stillness even as a shadow of a grimace threatens to slip through when your weak, fevered body clings to him in desperation. the mission heâs dispatched to is mandatory, but before he leaves, he gathers what little composure he has left and presses a careful kiss into your clammy palm, (despite all the germs heâs sure are wandering the surface).
âą bf!tamsy who lets you fuss over his injuries, deliberately steering clear of eishia just so your pretty hands can tend to him instead. he tilts his head, quietly amused, listening to you ramble about him needing to be more careful next time.
ânow, now, my dear.. thereâs no need to get so worked up.â
đ„ bf!tamsy who lets you braid his long, pretty hair to your heartâs content, patiently allowing you to intertwine his locks into a two-toned braid. he has one condition though, you have to face him while you work, so he can watch the adorable little expression you make when youâre concentratingâhis words.
He spends too much time near the heart in dragonspine and the particles there get into his system which triggers dormant DNA in his body to slowly shift him into a dragon.
First it's dragon like behavior. He turns territorial and starts collecting shiny things and hoarding them. He grows protective over the ones he cares for.
Then it becomes more obvious. He starts to grows wings. His eyes glow red and he grows fangs.
CAT HYBRID! Tamsy x HUMAN! reader
In which you're not sure if your hybrid likes you very much since he tends to switch moods so fast. Only for a shitty date to make the two of you come closer together even if the very situation he causes is just to purposefully piss you off.
âHey Kitty, kitty,â You teasingly say. You wag a finger in Tamsyâs face, stifling a laugh. He stares forward, still ignoring you and choosing to watch TV to distract himself. You frown, sitting next to him silently.
You turn to the TV, itâs a boring movie, as per usual. Tamsy never watches anything interesting, ever since youâve adopted him youâve come to know that Tamsy is a mediocre person.
Sure, heâs real pretty, thick angel wing lashes, long silky hair with a blue peekaboo and a piercing under his lip to even out the soft features. But, that didnât necessarily make him interesting.
You really shouldâve listened to your friends when they told you not to get a cat, considering how playful you are. Maybe you shouldâve got that puppy⊠what was his name? Follo, right?
You spare Tamsy one last lazy glance before letting out an obnoxious sigh and walking off to make dinner. Heâs probably hungry, he usually is around this time.
In reality Tamsy found you cute even as you strutted away gloomily. He couldnât help but smile to himself cockily, running a finger over his sharp nails inquisitively. He loved ignoring you. What he loves even more? The fact that you still take care of him no questions asked.
Legally hybrids couldnât live on their own without having a handler and even when you get adopted you still need to have lived with your handler for a year to legally be on your own afterwards. Something about integrating into society with humans to make hybrids more docile when it came to the much fragiler version of them.
In truth, Tamsy had been returned multiple times for his refusal to speak or be friendly with his handlers. He hadnât ever seen the point, especially when it came to the logistics of it.
Hybrids are smarter, faster, and frankly much more attractive than humans. Theyâre the ultimate form, while things like you just havenât evolved yet. Not only that, but humans are desperate for connection most of the time while hybrids are fine on their own. They should be the ones âtaking careâ of humans, not the other way around!
Tamsy sighs to himself as you set a plate of food down in front of him and walk off, a little disappointed you werenât vying for his attention again. He looks down at what you made and lets out a purr.
He loves salmon!
Another bad date, as per usual. The moment you sat down the guy started talking about politics which slowly showed how much of a degenerate he was. Youâd never seen a guy reveal he was an incel so quickly. By the end of the date he made you split the bill too, what a jerk!
You unlock your front door, pushing it open only to be met with the barely illuminated living room. You look around slowly, trying to spot Tamsy, only today heâs nowhere to be seen.
Heâs probably sleeping. You walk over to the couch, where he usually takes his short naps only for him to not be there. You raise a brow suspiciously before shrugging and heading over to your room, excited to sleep for the night.
Only one issueâTamsy had decided that for once he wanted to sleep in your bed. Despite the fact that he had his own room he still decided he wanted to inconvenience you. You shake your head, dropping your bag on the floor harshly. You stomp over, ready to tell him off but he peeks open an eye to look at you before you can have the pleasure of waking him up.
He slowly sits up, stretching idly while you stare at him, unimpressed. His face crinkles up into⊠disgust?
âYou stink,â He bluntly says, covering his oh, so fragile nose. He leans away with a dramatic flare, raising his eyebrows in question. âUgh, itâs unbearable. Leave, escort yourself out of here.â He coughs, fake but still just as offensive.
âYou little shit⊠Get the hell out of my bed!â You yell, face hot with fury. He simply snaps his tail at you, crawling over to the other side. You watch as he lays down with his back to you, watching you from over his shoulder, the lighting giving the illusion of his eyes glowing in the dark.
âHm⊠no. But you should probably go bathe.â At those words you pull your shirt up to sniff yourself. The only smell that greets your feeble human nose is cologne. Maybe you do smell like shit, considering that incel had hugged you goodbye.
You roll your eyes, walking over to your dresser to pull out some pajamas. You pick out a cute set youâd gotten a month ago from some guy who kept trying to take you out, heâd sent you over 300 dollars for some odd reason. God, you're such a catch! You smile to yourself, biting the inside of your cheek.
âTamsy, get out! I need to change.â You say, pointing towards the door. Tamsyâs tail stops for a moment, moving once more when he turns away from you. You groan, deciding to just go change in the bathroom.
He could be such a brat sometimes.
You had laid down around two hours ago, falling asleep next to your snobby companion. Though, you still couldnât escape him, even while unconscious.
Tamsy pokes at your cheeky thoughtlessly, laying on his side to watch you sleep. He stares as your chest rises up and down, listening to your quiet breathing. He hums at the soft melody, letting himself trail his fingers across your collar bones.
When you shuffle in your sleep he doesnât stop, knowing you wonât wake up. He does this nearly every night and yet you never open those eyes of yours.Â
Tamsy watches for another moment before resting his head on your chest, listening to your heartbeat rhythmically against his ear. His ears flatten against his head, body inching over just to lay on top of you.
He makes a sound of disapproval when he catches a whiff of you. You still smell unsavory, like youâd been with some stinky human. He furrows his brows, sitting up, hands on either side of your head.
It seems heâll just have to clean you up.
âEw! Ew, Tamsy Caines! Stop it! What has gotten intoâ oh my god!â You practically flail around as Tamsy licks your hairline, his tongue pushing back your hair. You kick around to no avail, his legs already tightly secured around your hips to stop you from moving.
âOwâ son of aâmmf!â Tamsy slaps his hand over your mouth as he drags his rough tongue over your cheek. You shiver, glaring at him angrily, you only become more infuriated when you catch the glint of joy in his eyes.
He hums proudly, âNo wonder you're struggling with dates, it seems you never shut-up.â You angrily slap him on the head and he all but flinches, instead he opts to continue to show his disgusting affection.
In short, Tamsy has been doing this all day. Youâd woke to him asleep next to you, all cuddled up to your side and when you tried to leave he started rubbing his head all up against you, looking cute as per usual.
You had eventually got him to lay off and took a quick shower, made your hair look nice and even sprayed some perfume on yourself. You only had to run errands today but you were in the mood to look nice.
The problem started when you had started gathering your things to leave, heâd completely flipped his switch, acting strangely affectionate. It startled you when he began hugging you from behind and it scared you when he knocked to the floor, and it horrified you when he began licking you!
Now here you were, laying on the floor in the middle of the living room, hand against his shoulder, pushing slightly while being forced to endure being cleaned like you were his kitten and from the look on his face he was thoroughly enjoying it.
In fact, you could hear it.
Tamsy laid chest to chest with you, the vibrations of his purring tickling you, making you let out a small laugh, though your joy doesnât last long. The moment you begin to laugh Tamsy takes it upon himself to irritate you, making you whine into his hand when he starts to bite at your cheek, chewing at it like itâs bubblegum.
âOh? Do you have something to say?â He snarkily asks, sitting up just to tilt his head at you. You slap his hand away from your mouth and surprisingly he removes his hand, allowing you to speak.
âGet off of me, fatty,â You push yourself up onto your elbows, his legs still caging your hips between his legs, squeezing tightly enough to keep you still. You start to push at his legs futilely, trying to remove him. âOh my god, I have to pay the bills today, Tamsy! If Iâm late the landlord is gonna lose his shit like last time.â
âUgh,â Tamsy says, before pushing you back down onto your back. You yelp, back colliding with the carpet for the second time today. âI thought youâd enjoy this, considering youâre always pawing at me for attention. One would mistake you for the pet between the two of us.â He pushes your hair out of your face, smiling wide.
âNow, stay still.â He commands, he leans down, nose to nose with you. Instinctively you freeze up, face becoming hot to the touch. Youâd never been close with anyone like this and even though it sucked that it had to be Tamsy it still flustered you. He chuckles, bringing a hand to touch your cheek, pinching it between his fingers. He buries his head in your neck while sniffing you carefully, fingers petting your hair.
He purrs loudly one last time before pushing up, tail flickering under your chin once before disappearing just as quickly. You lay stunned before sitting up just to catch that very same tail disappearing down the hall.
âWaitâ youâŠâ You bring a hand up before slowly lowering it, disappointing swimming in your gut. You think about it for a moment, face shifting into the proper expression.
âUgh, Asshole! I hate youâ that ugly bastard..â You stand up gathering your things that had scattered onto the floor, ushering yourself out the door before stopping right in the doorway.
âWhereâs my keys?â You pat around your pockets in a panic, spinning in circles. That fucker did this on purpose!
â HIS CINDERELLA CAUSE I MAKE IT FIT ! â
             ‷ Enjin x Fallen Spherite!Reader
>>>>>> Apparently Enjin has all the 'luck' when it comes to finding Spherites in No Man's Land. This time he's found youâa stuck-up Spherite nobleâcast out with the trash. You're prissy, needy and an overall pain in his ass. Definitely not his typeâbut that slutty pussy sure is. âĄ
>>>>>> đŠđđ§đą đđ+ for filthy enjin smut. enjin & reader are delulu & down bad. big dick!enjin. size queen!reader. bimbo!reader. sex under the influence. public sex. breeding. bjs. enjin is overall diabolical. but there's also a bit of plot too with some romance/fluff/humor. no spoilers for anime/manga.
>>>>>> đ°đ: 13.1k
đđ§: major special shoutouts to @honeybunnnnie my trash daddy partner in crime, who beta'd for me and gave me lots of good lil' gems I incorporated here. we share one horny brain cell when it comes to this man and the amount of headcanons we have made based on this that I didn't even include is INSANE lmfao.
You arenât Enjinâs type.Â
That much is certain the moment he stumbles upon you after being called to check out a disturbance in No Manâs Land. Scanning the terrain of garbage, Enjin wonders if heâs hallucinating.
Still high from the night beforeâor maybe thereâs a leak in his full face?
Either way he had to be tripping absolute balls right now because what the hell else could explain the giant kaiju-like plushie with bunny ears, wide beady eyes, and jagged teeth ripping apart trash beasts in the distance like they were wet paper towels?
But blazed or not, Enjin still has a job to do. Umbreaker sweeps him across the trash dunes in a speedy blur, but by the time he arrives he is already too late and the show is over.Â
All thatâs left is you: a young woman passed out in a pile of demolished trash beast remains and other junk. The giant kaiju-like plushieânow inanimate and no bigger than a handâlay beside you tethered to your person by a keyring.Â
Happening upon another giver in No Manâs Land wasnât out of the ordinary, sure, but if Enjin thought he was high from seeing your jinki in action he had to be damn near in the clouds once he recognized your clothes. Â
Similar to when Enjin discovered Rudo, he could immediately tell by your dress you are a Spherite. But unlike the threadbare attire of the scrappy tribesmen teen, yours practically screams wealth. They are the finest clothes Enjin has ever laid eyes on. Appearing as if they are woven from gold itself, despite the fresh layer of grime that settled on them.
You arenât just any olâ Spheriteâyouâre a Spherite noblewoman.
Keh, interesting.Â
With a shake of his head Enjin scoops you up, heading back to HQ. They arenât gonna believe thisâŠ
Enjin digs out a backup mask from his satchelâclearly not made for your face, because it slides right off. With an annoyed sigh, he holds it in place himself. Guess thatâs his job now⊠at least until you wake up.
Although Enjin soon discovers a pattern of how unnecessarily difficult Spherites can be upon arriving to the Abyssâas the first thing you do upon waking in Enjinâs arms is to slap the everloving dogshit out of him.Â
Fuck, you have a mean right hand.Â
Enjin tongues a tooth to make sure itâs still there.Â
âLet me go this instant, you filthy kidnapping degenerate! I demand you to take me home!â You cry out.Â
Tears fog up the mask on your face as you clearly mistook Enjin for some kind of criminal with his âfull faceâ on. Enjin sighs, tightening his grip on you and taking the not-so-painless beating youâre dishing out until you reach the nearest city.Â
The very second you both are in a habitable area for breathing, Enjin unceremoniously dumps you to the ground. He catches the mask, yet he leaves you to fall straight on your ass. The fall shocks you but Enjinâs sure whatâs really got you stunned is the strange bustling city surrounding you.
Removing his fullface, Enjin crouches down to eye-level with you. Overwhelmed and overstimulated by the foreign place, your eyes dart around helplessly. Youâre frantic, looking everywhere for some sort of bearing of where you are and avoiding the man in front of you.
Yet Enjin just waits, clicking his tongue and rocking back on his heels, for you to quiet your hysterics enough for him to get a word in.
When your eyes, still wide with panic, finally meet, he has the nerve to raise a browâlike youâre the one being dramatic and not the guy who literally kidnapped you.
âSo, as you may have noticed by nowâŠthis ainât the Sphere,â Enjin says, balancing a cigarette between his lips.Â
You look at him skepticallyâhe says it like itâs nothing, while your world is actively falling apart. What is he even talking about?!
âI know this ainât the welcome wagon you posh Spherites are used to butâŠâ
Enjin pauses, exhaling smoke to the sky. Your gaze follows up, widening once you see the oddly shaped dome covering the city, a strange yellow fog in the atmosphere.
â....welcome to the Abyss, Girlie. Nameâs Enjin.âÂ
Blankly staring at Enjin, you say nothing. The both of you in a mini stare down. Although youâre the first to give by suddenly bursting into sobs.
Rolling his eyes, a thought briefly flashes in Enjin's head that he should have just left you for the raiders. Hell, he could still leave you nowâyouâre calling way too much attention to yourself.
However, Enjin also figures that with you all but swimming in luxury on the Sphere, you probably thought of the Pitâyour so-called Hell, or its inhabitants as mere fairytale.
Enjinâs inkling is confirmed when you calm down enough to piece together that your now ex-husband had hired a bunch of shady tribesmen to kidnap and dispose of youâall to collect your inheritance.Â
Yeah, not your fault. Enjin thinks and cuts you a break.Â
For your own sake, Enjin somehow convinces you to come back to Cleaner HQ with him. He canât return you to the Sphere himselfâbut he knows another Spherite whoâs trying to make their way back. That small glimmer of hope is enough to lift your spirits, just barely. This time, you follow him willinglyâthough you still cry the entire way to HQ.
Shame how prone to hysterics you are, otherwise Enjin actually thinks youâre pretty hot. Noting how the expensive silk of your dress clings so damn well to your every curve. Heâd sell your clothes while you were near the shopping districtâbut unlike Rudo, he doubts he could talk you out of them.Â
At leastânot yet.
But that thought is drastically short lived as Enjin spends more time in your presence. Sure, you could have gotten along. You couldâve even been Enjinâs type. Yet thereâs one glaring problem:Â
Youâre an annoying, needy-ass brat. Â
Besides looks, you tick off nearly every one of his dealbreakers. Youâre ditzy, dependent and whiny. Basically Enjinâs nightmare.
Plus your snobby little ass never once thanked nor apologized to him over the following weeks.
Not after he saved you.
Not after he brought you back to HQ where you were welcomed with skeptical, yet open armsâas a new, very reluctant (you had no other options really) recruit in-training.
And you certainly never thanked Enjin, even after all his shit luck, when he was assigned to be your teacher and look after your haughty ass. You have the most indignant pout on your face when Corvus announces that since Enjin found you, you're Enjinâs problem.
âYou have to be kidding me? Iâm stuck with Trashy Poppins here!?â
âYo, Trashyâwhat!?â The reference doesnât land with Enjin but he knows it isnât good.
Semiu nods curtly in agreement of the pairing, amused that Enjin finally has someone to keep him on his toes as she ushers you off to get settled in.
The fuck?!Â
Lamenting being stuck is supposed to be Enjinâs line. Enjin had figured the logical move was to pair you with Zankaâthe closest thing to nobility among the Cleanersâand let you bond with Rudo, a fellow Spherite, even if he was a tribesman.
But it doesnât take long to realize neither boy can handle a grown ass woman like you. One flutter of your lashes and theyâre useless sapsâlike the big sister he never had, you could soothe Rudoâs worst moods with a mere head pat.Â
While Zanka, older and appreciating your more ârobustâ qualities, trips over his own tongue trying to talk to you.
Both ready to do anything just to earn a few sweet coosâunless someone steps in.
It had to be Enjin. He was the only one who could âresistâ your charms.
Still, Enjinâs got his work cut out for him when it comes to youâespecially training you for combat and figuring out how the hell youâre supposed to use that so-ugly-itâs-almost-cute vital instrument.
He tries not to judge. Really, he does. Jinki are personalâhe knows that better than anyone. But stillâŠthe fact that you even have one? Thatâs wild.
A Spherite? A noble Spherite, no lessâthe same pompous assholes who treat the Abyss like a dumping groundâactually caring enough about something to pump it full of anima?
Yeah, thatâs impressive, heâll give you that. What wasnât though was the name you gave the lil thing: Bubu.
Tsk. Wack as hell. Vital instruments deserve names with some bite. Something likeâUmbreaker.
Still, credit where itâs dueâyouâre picking things up faster than expected.Â
However, that doesnât spare him from your nonstop bitching, though. The complaints come daily: the strange smells your hair absorbs, the absence of your sacred skincare routines, not being able to take a 30 minute shower, and how everything down here always tastes just a little off.
But the most absurd? The cherry blossoms.
You complain the most about not being able to frolic in your lush, petal-covered garden full of rows of cherry blossoms. Enjinâs never even seen a damn tree like that, let alone the acres of grass and flowers you describe like some bedtime fairytale. You haughtily anoint yourself as a floral herbalist, an expert when it comes to your pretty little flowers.
Itâs shit like that on top of everything else that irks Enjin when it comes to you.
And yet?
Enjin thinks the most irritating thing about you is the fact that he canât seem to stay away from you.Â
Sure, youâre annoying as fuckâbut in spite of his own objections, Enjin keeps finding ways to keep your time occupied. He makes up excuses to train you longer and drags you along on missions that are solely meant for him.Â
Moreover, since you can never keep that pretty little mouth shut, anyone you meet clocks you as a Spherite within secondsâwhich means you need Enjinâs constant protection, whether you like it or not.
Enjin ends up spending less time drinking or chasing women, finding a far more amusing pastime insteadâthe way your face twists in indignation every time the Ground doesnât live up to your so-called ânoble standards.âÂ
He gets a kick out of it, really. Agitating you on purpose, just to watch you squirm.
âGoddamnit, Enjin! Watch it!âÂ
Youâd shriek every time your short skirt went flying from a sudden gust of wind heâd whip up with Umbreaker. Enjin saves that lil trick for No Manâs Land when the othersâ backs are turned.
âThatâs Enjin-sensei to you, Princess.âÂ
âChokeâslowly, Trashy Poppins.â
Youâd lunge for his mask like you actually meant to rip it off, but at 6 '3, Enjinâs tall enough that you never have a chance at reaching it. Itâs all worth it tooâEnjinâs already got every pastel scrap of lace you own burned into memory, each one tucked away like a reward for getting under your skin.
Itâs a little sadistic, sureâthe way he taunts you nonstop, delighting in soiling that polished image of yours to grind you into the dirt of the ground right along with him.Â
Thereâs a fire in your eyes every time Enjin dubs you as âYour Royal Trash Princessââor just âTPâ if heâs feeling lazy. You never fail to rise to his bait, eager to prove yourselfâand prove him wrong.
Enjin feels heâs owed a bit of amusement for all his troubles.
Doesnât mean anything.
Yet the more Enjin pushes, the harder it is to ignore that your bratty spark isnât just an attitude problem. Itâs energy. Real, raw passion. The kind that could actually cultivate anima. He sees it best when youâre snapping at him, flushed and defiant, too stubborn to back down.
Itâs trouble to be sure, but fuck if Enjin doesnât love coaxing it out of you.
All it took this time to get you going was him doubting your so-called knowledge of plants and remediesâ âwhat kinda âfloral herbalistâ hasnât toked one?â Â
So now here you are, in the HQ lounge, about to smoke your first joint as a âpre-gameâ to the happy hour Corvus organized for all the Cleaners.
You and Enjin sit shoulder to shoulder on a worn, black quilted-leather sofa thatâs seen better days. The cushions creak as you nervously smooth your skirt and settle in, unhooking your jinkiâBubuâfrom your belt to set her gently on the table.
Enjin rolls a few joints with unhurried precisionâlike heâs got all the time in the world, and watching you squirm is part of the ritual.
âBet ya didnât have anything like this in your lilâ garden, eh TP?â Enjin quips, breaking the silence.
Nose already upturned, your face scrunches as Enjin tosses an extra bud from his stash into your open palms. You hated the nickname âTPâ most of all, too easily mistaken for âtoilet paperâ and Enjin knows that.
You shoot Enjin a dirty look before letting your focus drift back to the brittle sprig in your handsâthe first real plant youâve touched since becoming a Ground-dweller.
You think you actually recognize it.Â
Back on the Sphere, your family was among the wealthiest, and your garden was massive. You took pride in your green thumbâlike Delmon, whose garden youâve been meaning to ask about. You want to help, if only to see what kind of plants can survive in conditions this toxic. But Enjin never gives you the spaceâalways hovering, always cutting in before you can finish a full conversation.
You brush off those thoughts but your frown stays as your fingers trace the budâs dry veins. Even for a dehydrated sample, it feels wrongâbrittle in a way that hints of sickness.Â
âHmm. We had something like thisâI think. But itâs just another weed.â You say shrugging.
âHeh,â Enjin smirks at your cluelessness, âWould you believe me if I told you âweedâ is exactly what we call it, Princess?â
You roll your eyes at the inordinately simple name. It probably has a proper scientific designationâbut expecting Enjin to know it? Please.
âWe always uprooted themâweeds are unsightly in gardens, you know. A weed, let alone one sick as this, would definitely be pruned right away so as to not syphon nutrients from the other plant life.â
âHAH?!â Â
Mid-seal on his joint, Enjin stops cold, staring at you like you just dared to commit some sort of sacrilege before exhaling a theatrical sigh, shaking his head in pure betrayal.
He canât believe Spherities are probably pissing away the dankest shit ever cultivated. The thought was maddening.
When Enjinâs eyes do meet yours again, there's no amusement as he takes a rather chastising tone with you.
âPrincess, for your own good, never repeat that in front of anyone down hereâŠI mean it.â
You huff, but Enjin doesnât blinkâjust starts sealing the joint again, eyes never leaving you as his tongue drags slowly across the edge of the paper.
You squirm, and thatâs all the reward he needs.Â
âSee somethinâ you like?â Enjin drawls, holding the finished joint out toward you like itâs a giftâand not a trap with your name written all over it.
Turning on teacher mode, Enjin decides to school you.
âI know we mostly have âreggieâ down here, but still, itâs worth its weight in gold for its purposes. Not just for fun ya knowâchronic pain, nausea, anxietyâgives a bit of relief from the ailments of Abyss-living you Spherites have so graciously bestowed on us.â
From his pocket, Enjin produces a lighter, shoulders curling as he bows into the flame to set it alight.
Your eyes flick over the sinewy stretch of Enjin arms, the way his jacket strains across his shouldersâreminding you just how solid Enjin really is beneath all that shapeless fabric. Built like a weapon, hiding in plain sight.
You watch as his ringed fingers lift the joint to his lips. Drawing in a slow, steady breath, Enjin sinks back into the sofa like gravityâs got a tighter hold on him than usual. Smoke pools in his chest before slipping out in a long, deliberate exhale.
His gaze follows it, distantâlike heâs chewing on thoughts far heavier than anything you said⊠but somehow still set off by it.
âThatâs the problem with you SpheritesâŠ.you donât see things the way they areâyou see things the way you are.âÂ
Enjin chuffs at his own words, closing his eyes to let his high settle. Not even completely stoned yet and heâs already spouting off pseudo philosophical one-liners.
âEverything else is collateral, amirite?â
Ouch.
Toeing at the floor, you sulk in silence. Wounded from the verbal licks Enjin just dealt you. Mulling over his words in silence though, you know it isnât that simple. Horticulture can be complicated even in the most ideal conditions. Just because a plant is viable doesnât mean it belongs in every gardenâsome plants are just incompatible.
HoweverâŠ
You sit silently, your teeth worrying your bottom lip as you study the brittle bud in your palm.
âŠthat doesnât make it worthless.
Instead of exploring any potential use, you tossed the so-called "weed" outâjust like everything else the Sphere deemed useless. Not even considering how valuable it could be. You can see why Enjin wouldn't want you repeating that mistake. Enough people already looked at you with disdain as it is.Â
Sure thereâs a lot of things you miss about it, mostly superficial things that had to do with vanity, but overall life up there was super sterile and dull. Youâd never say it out loud but you are glad you fell, it was hard on the ground but it was liberating.
Sighing, you quietly concede. You hate anytime Enjin actually has a point though. Itâs the worst thing imaginableâfor your pride and for his already unbearable ego.
Cracking an eye open, Enjin curses under his breath. Switching tactics, he decides to replace the long look on his Trash Princessâs face. Annoyance would do just fine. Besides, there was no need for you to pout over it, you actually had a shot at redemption here⊠heh, the kind that might just work out in his favor, too.
âYâknowwwww, weâre always learninâ better ways to grow things down here, faster too...â
Enjin moves so quietly, you donât realize how close he is until you turnâand heâs right in your face, barely a breath away. Swiping his ringed thumb across your cheek, Enjinâs touch is surprisingly tender. However his expression is entirely obnoxious, full of amusement from how fast your pouty little face flusters.
â...could be a nice little hobby that would do alotta goodâŠand if anyone could figure out how to grow this shit properly down hereââ
Enjin plucks at the heat of your warm cheeks, pinching just enough to tease and drag the moment into something more lighthearted.
ââI do believe it could be youâTrash Princess.â
Your eyes catch something deeper than just teasing in his golden gazeâbut before you can dwell on it, instinct kicks in. You jerk back, swatting his hand away, shoving whatever that was out of your mind.
Enjin just laughs, unbothered, as you glare at him.
âAnd why canât you get Delmon to do it?â you counter, arms folding across your chest. By now, youâve learned Enjin usually has an angle for everything.
Right on the mark, for a beat, Enjin actually pauses. He hadnât expected you to bring up the obviousâDelmon, the gentle giant practically martyred to the idea of saving whatâs left of the Abyss. But Enjinâs roguish grin slips back into place, spreading wider as he leans in, unapologetically invading your space.
âWhy? Well...âcause I asked you, Princess. The olâlug has enough on his plate as it is. You can handle it alone, canât ya?â
Truthfully, even knowing your interest in Delmon never strays beyond roots and soil, it still irks every time Enjin catches sight of you with him. You look every bit the nobleâgraceful, composed, eyes soft and curious as you gaze up at Delmon, eager to learn. It grates on Enjin more than heâd admit, knowing heâs never once gotten that look, despite monopolizing most of your time.
âYa knowâunless, your skillset just ainât up tâpar?â Enjin finishes with a shrug.
Wholly unconvinced, you see this for the bait it is from a mile away. Nevertheless, you canât deny that you are eager to get even the tiniest bit of normalcy back in your life from your old hobbies. Planting something, anything, would be niceâeven if it ends up being contraband for Enjin. Although you still arenât quite sure why you canât consult Delmon.Â
âUgh! Fine!â
You fall back onto the sofa and Enjin follows, his arm settling behind you, practically draped around your shoulders. You donât even flinch. He takes another slow hit, smoke curling toward the ceiling, but this time thereâs a wicked glint in his eye as he watches you. Deciding heâs babysat the joint long enough, he leans in with a lazy smirk and holds it out to you.
âEnjinâyour eyes!â You blurt out, disregarding his invitation. âIs that just from smoking!? I canât go to happy hour looking like some kinda zombie!â
Enjin sputters mid-laugh, coughing as wisps of smoke leak from the corners of his smart ass grin.
âEh, well duh. Why else would they get so red when I smoke?â
Enjin coughs out a few more chuckles. You roll your eyes.
âI donât know, Trashy PoppinsâŠI didn't make the connection since the air quality down here is 80% pollution! You could have anything.â
While Enjin is amused by your sass, the joint continues to burn down. Each second unsmoked is wasting precious bud. Leaning in, his voice drops to a low purrâthe kind that makes your stomach flip.
Heh, time to pull out the big guns.
âAht-aht-aht, câmon now, Princess, you know the golden ruleâŠâ
You sigh, thinking you need that happy hour drink more than ever right now.
âYouâre not serious.â
But you know he is, and of course you remember the silly motto Enjin makes an unspoken rule for his team. Although he mostly just uses it to get you to do something youâll usually regret later. You sigh, knowing youâll never make it to happy hour until you appease the big man-child in front of you.
Enjinâs golden eyes shine with even more mischief than before and together like some damn mantra, you both repeat:
â...itâs not peer pressureâitâs just your turn.â
Resigned, you click your tongue, swiping at the joint in his hands. But Enjin is much faster as he pulls back with infuriating speed. You glower at him, snark locked and loaded.
âNah, actually Iâll help you out since itâs your first time, Princess.â
Innuendo coils around his words, heat radiating off him as you tense under his gaze. You donât want to argue with him though, the sooner you smoked, the sooner you both could be at happy hour.
âOpen.âÂ
Enjinâs fingers graze the corner of your mouth as he holds the joint to your peach-glossed lips, eyes darkening when you part them obediently for him.
âNow breathe it in, nice and slowâŠdeeper. Yeah, thatâs itâhold it. Donât let go until I sayâgood girl.â
You want to scoff at him, but you canâtânot with tears stinging your eyes and smoke burning its way down your lungs. By the time Enjin gives you the nod to exhale, youâre already choking, coughing it all back up in ragged plumes.
Yeah, this was nowhere in hell as easy as Enjin made it look.
The buzz rises in your head almost instantly, an airy haze creeping into your consciousness.
âSee? Not a terrible cherry pop, eh?â
The glare you throw at Enjin is more of a squint. Still recovering from the fire tearing down your throat, your coughs earn you a few heavy-handed smacks on the back from Enjin. If itâs out of comfort or mockery, you can't tell.Â
Everything in the room is spinning and becoming more distant, like a daydream.
âEasy there, breatheâitâll hit easier when ya figure out how to grow it right, Princess. The dank shit wonât burn this hard.â
You want to bite back that even if you do figure out how to grow the damn âweedâ plant, youâd never touch it again. But the sudden heaviness seeping into your limbs drags you down, tilting your head on the axis of equilibrium.
âI think, noâI know, I need to lay down.â
Not waiting for permission, you flop down onto the worn cushions beneath you, curling up awkwardly with your head leaning against the armrest and your legs dangling off the seat at an angle.Â
Enjin doesnât miss a beat thoughâhe scoops your legs into his lap, tugging off your boots so you can be comfortable.
Leaning back, perfectly at ease, Enjin holds the joint in one hand while the other rests on your stocking-covered shin, giving it a casual, reassuring pat. The way your arm drapes over your face tells him everythingâyeah, youâve got the spins.
âKeh, youâll make it, Princess. Just let it all ride out.â
Youâd make it alright, but not to happy hour anytime soon. Enjin supposes he mightâve let you take a bigger hit than you were ready for.Â
Whoops.
Silence stretches in the aftermath but itâs not uncomfortable. Enjin takes a few more lazy tokes, one golden eye cracked open just enough to watch you, taking stock of your state.Â
Itâs in moments like thisârare ones, when youâre quietâthat he remembers just how fucking smoking hot you are.
Especially in that Cleaner uniform. Man, God bless August.
The eccentric tailor took special care in designing it thanks to a sudden burst of inspirationâAugust even convinced Enjin to allow him to keep some of the trim from your Spherite clothes that he repurposes. The outcome of your uniform is shinier, more fitted and much sluttier than standard issue.Â
You took to it immediately, without much fuss and actually complimenting August. That was Augustâs gift thoughâwhipping up pieces to suit even the finickiest of tastesâand Enjin had to admit, the man did his big one.Â
But the real surprise wasnât the craftsmanship. It was youâhis oh-so-prim little Trash Princessâstrutting around in something so damn naughty. Dressed up like a treat that Enjin canât help but eat up with his eyes.
And whaddya know? Enjin has the munchies bad right now.
Left to his own devices, Enjin takes his time devouring the sight in front of him. His gaze lingers down the length of your legs sprawled across his lap, to the soft, exposed flesh of your thighsâspilling over the edge of your stockings just enough to make his jaw clench.
Fuck, they look so soft. He can't help but wonder how they'd feel locked around his head as his eyes climb to the next indulgenceâyour crop top. Rucked up to your ribs, the thin white cotton hugs just beneath your tits. Shit, the way your cute little nips poke through the fabric makes his mouth twitch with the urge to say âhiâ right backâwith his tongue.
Is it hotter in here, orâ?
Leering at you for too long is a surefire way for Enjin to pop a boner. Enjin knows heâs not alone in that either. That uniform of yours turns heads in every city you pass through. Consequently, Enjin has split more skulls because of idiots trying to hit on you or cop a feel than he ever has for anyone trying to snatch a Spherite.
Not that heâs jealous or nothing.
Nah. Just doing his job. Watching out for you. Plenty of unscrupulous assholes out there willing to pounce on a clueless little thing like you.
However, right now, Enjinâs just as unscrupulousââwatching outâ only for a flash of your panties as each restless wiggle sinks you deeper into the lumpy cushions, bunching your skirt higher and teasing him with a glimpse of skimpy lace.
Man, just a little more and heâd know exactly which pair you picked today.
Sobering up a bit more, you sigh at your inability to get comfortable when you could feel the very springs in the sofa. Stretching, you straighten your leg suddenly andâ
âYo! Watch the feets, girl!â Â
Though thereâs amusement in his voice as he jolts upright, tatted hands grabbing your ankle before youâre able to land another blow.
âAh, sorryââ You mutter sheepishly, reeling back your foot. âI didnât mean to kick Umbreaker.â
For what itâs worth, the apology comes quicklyâyouâve learned better than to mess with a manâs jinki, especially Enjinâs. You've nearly tripped more times than you can count over that bulky extension of himself that he always keeps within reach.
You know itâs serious too when he doesnât even bother with the stupid nicknames he usually calls you. Nevertheless, youâre left puzzled when Enjinâs laughter comes out loud and sharp.Â
â...that wasnât Umbreaker, Princess.â
Huh? What does he mean that isnâtâÂ
You freeze.Â
Carefully peeking out from under your arm, your reddened eyes squint down the length of your body and onto his. When the realization does set in of what exactly you kicked, it smacks you harder than any hit of ganja ever could.
âOâŠohâŠâOH MY GAWD!â
Immediately springing upright, your vertigo swirls with how fast youâre scrambling to your knees as you gawk.
Time passes for what seems like a solid minute or two and neither of you speak.Â
Youâre staring at the crotch of Enjinâs baggy pants and Enjin is staring at you.
âHeh.â
The devious look on Enjinâs face right now could shame the devil himself. Yet youâre still in utter disbelief.
Thereâs no way thatâs his dick!
Still, your brain wonât stop running the numbersâhigh girl math with clumsy calculations drawn from the fleeting brush of your toes against the long, thick mass hidden beneath the fabric of his baggy pants. Enjinâs words ring in your mind like a gongââthat wasnât UmbreakerâŠâ
âYouâre burninâ a hole through my dick, Princessââ
Enjinâs voice unfurls seductively, like the smoke curling from his lips.
ââkeep starinâ like that and Iâm gonna think you wanna see it.â
Your eyes meet his dead-on.Â
âI do.â
âYeah, Iâm sure yoâwait, come again?!â
Enjinâs grip goes slack, the joint slipping from his fingers. He was halfway to some sassy quip, ready to taunt your denialâbut your delivery is so honest, with no teasing or angle to play off, he doesnât know what to do with it.
The embers hiss against his thigh before he even registers he dropped it.
âTch.â Cursing under his breath, he flicks it asideâitâs all roach anywayâand tries to pull himself back together.
Youâre fucking with him. Yeah. Thatâs it.Â
Smug again, Enjin leans into the bit you started.
âHa haâŠright. I know my stuck up lilâ Trash Princess isnât asking to give me a dick inspectionâŠâ
Enjin adjusts his pants in a casual sweep that doesnât fool either of you. Heâs not brushing off the remaining flakes of ashâheâs palming his restless cock that jumped at the idea of you actually wanting to see it.
But both you and Enjin would quickly discover, despite your snobby Spherite upbringing, you lose any type of filter and sense of couth while highâblurting out your thoughts unabashedly.Â
âI said I wanted to see it, Trashy Poppins. Or mânot gonna believe youâre actually that big.â
You fold your arms, huffing stubbornly.
There was no way an unbearably annoying man like Enjin was slanging actual horse cock!Â
He had to be the one fucking with you here.
Well, wait, noâa cocky, stupidly sexy man having a big dick actually tracks, now that you think about it.
But stillâyou need to verify. For science, if nothing else.Â
Yeah. Science.
Enjin blinks, taking stock of youâkneeling close, your tits straining like theyâre about to burst free, and your skirt rides so high on your thighs this time, he swears one more millimeter and heâd see your panties for real.Â
âCâmon nowâŠâ
Your sickly sweet coos needle at Enjinâs spine.
â...as if you arenât always upskirting me just to see my panties.â
Shit. You knew it was intentional?
âAt least you can show me your undies for a change. If youâre really that big, then Iâll be able to tell.â
The spark alight in your eyes is a challenge to Enjin, who loves pushing your limits. Now he needs to know how far youâll go. Even if heâs completely unprepared for this turn of events, heâs sure as fuck not gonna be the one backing down first.
âSâthat right, Princess? Well, I havenât even seen yours today soââ
Enjin doesnât even get the chance to finish before youâre lifting your skirt and spreading your knees wider. You stare up at the ceiling, the popcorn squares suddenly appearing super interesting to you. Enjinâs eyes however immediately zero-in on the pink lace stretched tight across your pussy.
Christ.
With a much closer view, Enjin picks up all the little details he usually missesâlike how the hem digs into your soft curves or how the material is thin enough to see the split of your chubby lil pussy lips pressed underneath.Â
Goddamn, are you intentionally buying them a size too small?Â
Or is your pussy print just that fat?
Enjin gulps, mouth dry.Â
His attention caught like a hook to your cunt, everything else is unimportantâincluding the irony of how he was just teasing you for the very same thingâitâs all utterly lost on him. His priorities shifting rapidly the longer he ogles you.
After a minute, giving him quite frankly more of his fill than he deserves, you let your skirt drop back into place. The alluring spell of your fatma breaks when your knees snap shut and Enjin is yanked back to a world that doesnât exist between the apex of your doughy thighs.Â
All of his lecherous starring is worth it thoughâif only to be able to throw his own saying back at him for once.
âNow, howâs it go again? Itâs not peer pressuââ
ââYeah, yeah, I got it, PrincessâMy turn.âÂ
Enjin relents, cutting you off with a twisted grin as he shakes his head.
âYa donât gotta break my arm to see my dick, babe. Just makinâ sure youâre sure. Donât need you runninâ off telling Semiu I flashed ya.â
Semiu is already on Enjinâs ass for teasing you as much as he does. Something about him being âtoo grownâ not to ânut upâ and âcome to terms with his realityâ, but Enjin was never listening for long, zoning out as soon as a new lecture was underway.Â
However, if your prissy ass really wants to see his dick that bad, of course heâd oblige. Hell, Enjin would get another kick outta watching your horror when you realize for real just how much heâs packing. It had been a minute since he'd seen that look on a woman.
For being as hot and charming as he is, Enjin didnât get nearly as much play as he shouldâve. He isnât a virgin by any means, but too many women take one glance at his size and back off expeditiously. Â
Life on the ground meant hustling to survive for most. Nobody could afford to be laid up for days just because Enjinâs wrecking ball of a cock tore through their walls, rendering them unable to walkâlet alone go to work.
Yet with a clink, that all changes as the leather strap of his belt and gear slides free. Enjin lifts his hips enough to shove his pants down past his thighs and there it isâshort red boxer briefs with a black waistband, the fabric stretched thin over the obscenely long, thick outline of his dick resting along his thigh.
Simply put, your jaw drops. Thereâs a static-like silence buzzing in your mind as you process the monstrous mass of phallic muscle before you.
Youâve never seen a dick that huge in your entire life.Â
Clocking your shock, Enjinâs chest puffs like heâs just been crowned a king in the room.
âRelax, PrincessâŠâ he drawls, smugness saturating every word.
âI ainât even all the way hard yet.â
Bullshit!Â
Your eyes pingpong between his face and his cock before landing on the obvious conclusionâno overthinking this time.
âWhat are you waiting for then? Get hard.â
Enjin actually chokes for real this time, still not used to how blunt his demure lilâ Trash Princess gets when sheâs high. He manages to laugh regardless once he finds his breath as he sure as hell doesnât hate this new side of you.
âHah?! It doesnât work like that ya knowâŠâ
Enjin lies right through his fucking teeth.Â
Just hearing that vulgar command from your prissy lilâ lips has his blood surging south, his cock swelling at rapid speed. Already on go, his dickprint thickens, straining against the fabric until threads stretch thin to form almost obscenely over him like second skin.
Yet unlike his past hookups you donât flinch at the sight of him getting even bigger.Â
Thereâs more than enough incredulousness on your face for sure, but Enjin half expected you to backpedal for the sake of your pussyâs self-preservation and book it out the door. Instead, the look youâre giving his dick is more akin to awe than fear.
Truly, thoughâyou are in awe.
Men werenât like this on the Sphere. Well, your husband certainly wasnât.
Older than you by over a decade, your husbandâs stamina was so poor he never lasted long. His size, his endurance, and his dismissive comments about your sexual appetite being perversely unbecoming for a lady of your station had you wondering if something was wrong with you this entire timeâif you expected too much from sex.
But when your eyes drift back to Enjinâcatching the thick vein running along his length, visible even through the fabricâyou know better now.Â
It was never you.
The realization brings a surge of boldness. Your gaze trails the pulse of his cock down to the wet patch blooming at the tipâso much pre spilling it seeps through the fabric.Â
Enjin inhales sharply through his nose. He knows heâs proven his size, but your silence and the way youâre eyeing his cock like some kind of museum exhibit is starting to get to him.Â
Enjin doesnât want to back down as he impatiently waits for your final verdict of approval. But if you keep staring at him like that, with those big pretty eyes of yours, heâs going to come in his pants, untouched, like some fucking cuck.
âWell, Princess? Big enough for ya?â
You donât even hear Enjin, too lost in your own thoughts. Your body, buzzed and reckless, has a mind of its own though. Reaching out, your hand leaves your lap to trace the thick ridges of his cock, mapping its shape through his briefs.Â
âOh, shiiiiââ Enjin hisses.Â
His lip catches between his teeth as all thoughts vanish the moment your delicate little fingers start stroking him.
âArghâfuck. Canât jusâ go grabbing a manâs dick like that ya know.â
Yet Enjin does nothing to stop you as your touch grows bolder. Your palm flattens around his girthâtoo thick for even your whole hand to wrap around, even through his boxers.
How would someone even get something that monstrous inside them!?
Encircling his leaky cockhead, you giggle as your index finger slowly tap-tap-taps the mess heâs made there, amused at how many of the small, sticky suds you can gather on your finger through the material.
Enjinâs own laugh is strangled. This canât be real.
Youâre unfazed by Enjinâs provocations â too mesmerized by the obscenely large cock in front of you that has you squirming uncomfortably as your own panties turn swampy with heat.Â
âMay I?â
Meeting Enjinâs gaze, your polite innocence is accented by a wide-eyed pout thatâs far too sweet for the filthy implications of your request. Like youâre nicely asking permission to play with your favorite toyâexcept you donât even wait for him to give it,fingers impatiently snapping the edges of his waistband like some cockhungry slut.Â
âUhâŠâ Enjin blanks while his dick is practically screaming at him to respondâeven a damned head nod would suffice. Yet his brain blue-screens as it registers that lookâthe normally innocent, curiosity filled look that he's been craving since he found you in No Man's Landânow twisted into something debased and filthy. And best of all?
Meant just for him.
Enjinâs so fucking hard right now itâs painfulâand hell, if youâre planning to do something about that, heâs not about to stop you.
âKeh. Do you, boo.â
Enjin manspreads, giving you full access. You eagerly pull down his shorts just enough to release his cock, and it springs free, thick and heavy.Â
Good God, heâs a big boy!Â
Although you knew that, seeing the monster in all of its unleashed glory was an entirely different experience. Enjinâs dick bobs back to curve towards his abs, a shiny pubic piercing shining at his base under its shadow.
Panting, your previously dormant inner size queen activates. You have to swallow down the bucket of saliva collecting on your tongue before you chokeâyou canât help but salivate at the thought of what a huge cock like this tastes like⊠what it feels like.Â
Youâre pretty sure it could break you in two, and surprisingly, the thought excites you.
Lowering yourself on all fours, the first tentative lick you give Enjinâs length has his toes curling as he grips the sofa, ripping a chunk clean off the decaying material.Â
You moan out a depraved 'ahhh' once you reach the top, a little smile playing on your lips as you tongue down the hole at his tip. Greedily, you lap up all the little dribbles of pre beading at the tip and flowing out.
âW-Woaaahâugh. FUCK!â
Enjinâs hand flies into your hair as he clears his throat. Sure, your mouthwatering stares made a blowie likely, but diving in this shamelessly? Itâs enough to make him feel like heâs losing his damn mind.
You grip his baseâan insurance policy to keep him from cummingâwhile your other hand cups his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze. His thigh jolts beneath you and you simper at how sensitive he is despite his massive size.
âT-Thereâs no way in hell they taught your prissy ass how to be this much of a slut up there.â
Pouting, you release his balls to cradle his cockhead against your puffed up cheek, uncaring of the amount of pre seeping across your jaw.Â
âD-DoâŠdo you hate it? My husâum, ex said it was a turn off. H-he'd say I have 'the depravity of a slums streetwalker.â
Staring up at Enjin, your eyes are clouded with lust, yet edged with worryâlike heâd threatened to rip something precious away. But itâs only his cock youâre coddling tighter against your cheek, your lips parting just enough to chase the beads of pre that drip close to your mouth.
If you werenât gripping Enjinâs base so hard he definitely would have blown a load all over your face. Fuck, if the thought isnât tempting to him though â he doesnât think youâd even mind in this state. Â
Goddamn, youâre so much sluttier than Enjin could have ever imagined.Â
And heâd imagined it plenty.Â
Especially on nights Enjin stumbled back to HQ drunk and alone, having closed down the bar with Corvus and Gris. Left to sate his own booze-fueled boner, heâd shamelessly rut into his pillow. Yet, no matter where his perversions strayed, every faceless fantasy in the dark insisted on transmuting into you.Â
You seriously think he couldnât match your freak?Â
Oh, sweetheart, you have no fucking idea.
âHate it?âÂ
Enjin holds back the growl building at the back of his throat. Thereâs a torrent of thoughts swirling with his high all at onceâall coming to settle right back into his dick.Â
âNever. Show me who you really are, Princessânâ Iâll give it right back to ya tenfoldâthatâs a promise.â
If you werenât already trembling with arousalâfinally free to let your freak flag flyâyou mightâve shied away. Enjinâs easy acceptance of you stirs something deeper, something messy that you usually ignore before it can settle. Now, with his scent thick on your face and tongue, youâre not thinking at allâaching with the urge to all but inhale his cock.
You merely nod, flashing Enjin a coy smile before stretching your plush lips to wrap around him. Slowly, you swallow down his girth, mouth hot with suction so deliciously moist Enjinâs hips jerk up. You gag, but his firm grip on your roots keeps your head in place, forcing his length to breach your throat.
âThatâs it, babyâŠopen up f-fâer meâg-good fucking girl, PrincessâŠâ
Tears prick at your eyes as his cock pounds back of your throat. The stretch is brutalâbut some desperate part of you craves more of his filthy praise. What you canât take with your mouth, your hands make up forâstroking every thick inch your lips canât swallow.
âShiiiit, girl! Youâre a pro at this.â
If you ask Enjin later, heâd probably call you a throat goat, however most of your âexperienceâ came from the smutty paperbacks high-society wives hid in corsets and swapped under tea tablesânot actual practice. You donât really know what you are doing. Youâre just following the book's explicit instructions.Â
Still, Enjin doesnât seem to mind being your test dummy.Â
On the contrary, Enjin is more than happy to let you do your thing and he does just that. Although, the longer your head bobs along his cock, the more your skirt rides upâuntil it finally flips over your hips, giving him a perfect view of the cheeky lace framing your ass.
Enjin groans, gripping your ass with bruising force before sliding his fingers down to palm your pussy over your pantiesâfuck, youâre already dripping for him.
âHahâuppity cunt gets this sloppy just from a lilâ dick sucking, eh?â
Enjin laughs, yet the gravel rattling in his voice betrays him. No one has ever fearlessly tried to deepthroat him and actually fucking enjoyed it.Â
Unable to respond with your mouth, too busy still trying to do the impossible and fit more inside your throat, your hips respond insteadâwiggling desperately against his fingers, begging for more of his touch.Â
Enjin doesnât hesitate. Slipping a tatted finger into your panties, he drags it through your folds, marveling at how wet and scorching you are. Pushing into your core, your walls clamp down, fluttering around his digit.
Oh fuck, even his fingers are big!Â
A second ringed finger follows â the rough, callous fingers of a man who's seen too many fights scrape so good against all your gooey spots. Lewd squelches echo from your pussy as your throat tightens around him in tandem. The sounds, the squeeze, the heatâall of it is driving him crazy.
Shit heâs gonna cum for real this time.Â
To his credit, Enjin tries to warn youâtries to pull you off before itâs too late.Â
He doesnât wanna risk pissing you off and having you refuse to ever do this again. Enjin still wants to fool around more;, he wants to fuck you. Itâs that thoughtâyour pretty pussy lips splitting open to swallow him insteadâthat has him busting his hot seed down your throat in thick, hot pulses.
âHAHHâFUHH!â
Releasing your hair, Enjin half expects you to pull away, furious he hadnât warned you. Instead, your nails dig into his thigh, steadying yourself. You moan around him, the vibrations rippling through his sensitive cock while you work him for every last drop, his hips jerking beneath you.
Only when youâre certain youâve drained him do you pull back, swollen lips coming off his cock with a wet pop.Â
âAllll go-neee S-Sheee? HAhhhhh~âĄâ
Tits jiggling as you heave for air, you present your tongue to Enjin as proof youâve swallowed all of him. Every. Filthy. Drop.
You canât help but agreeâyour throatâs wrecked and your pussyâs aching to be used just as thoroughly. Enjinâs fingers arenât inside you any more, although they are still on your pussy, running through your folds absentmindedly. Â
âNghân-eed m-more,â you slur.
All your decorum was lost to the wind the moment you asked to see his dickâyou donât even care that itâs Enjin of all people that you just gave head to. Suddenly, the obnoxious pain in your ass seems like your only deliverance. Right now, you're more frustrated that you've spent so much time bickering with him when you could have been fucking him.
You much prefer his moans to anything else coming out of his mouth.
You need him to get hard againâimmediately!
Enjin, mind mushy with release, takes another joint out to light. As much as he wants to return the favor after that kind of sloppy top, the man needs a minute. His high has his whole body tingling from the post release sensitivity.
But you canât wait any longer. Itâs been god knows how long since youâve had a proper orgasm and those were only from your own small, fumbling fingers. Throat achy and raw, you quiver at the masochistic thought of how his cock is going to absolutely obliterate your pussy.
You slide your panties down before flinging off your jacket and top. Taking a seat on Enjin's lap, you're now clad in just your bra, your skirt that's bunched up at your hips, and thigh highs. Grabbing his cock, you give his soggy, half-hard girth a few encouraging pumps.
Your pussy is already slobbering, a viscous string of syrupy slick drips down from your slit to land on his cockhead, connecting you to him as you line him up.Â
Feeling your fingers around his length, Enjin's eyes fly open, balancing the joint between his lips as he quickly shrugs off his own jacket, checking the pockets.
âWoah, woah. Slow your roll there sweetheartâyouâre skipping a few steps.â
You arenât listening though, not giving a fuck what Enjin is talking about as you cry out, grinding your clit against his fat tip, before running it back through your folds.
Enjin grits his teeth, coughing out smoke as he holds the joint in one hand and your hips in the other. Youâre being a brat again, not listening to a single word heâs saying.Â
âGotta find my rubbersâŠalso gotta stretch you out better, Princessâyouâre gonna split in two if I donât.â
You whimper, petulant and needy. You press his cockhead against your entrance, swiveling your hips like youâre going to recklessly sink down on him at any second.
âHuh? Rubbers?â You shake your head in confusion, pouting. âmâEnnnnjiiiiinâŠI canât wait that longâpuh-leaseee donât make me wait sâlong, Enjiiiiin. I can take it, promiseee!â
The way you sweetly coo his name is shattering any sense of self-control Enjin has left. The urge to submit you to the ultimate corruption surges hot through his veins, but Enjin knows how big he is and while he did want to break you, he didnât want to hurt you in the process. You are absolutely nuts to want to ride him with so little prepânow, on top of everything else, you apparently wanted him to fuck you raw.
Waitâdid you just ask what rubbers were? Did you not have condoms on the Sphere?
But any lingering concerns dissipate the second you start fighting to get his tip inside you.
âToo s-slow!â You groan.
Fear is the last thing on your mindâevident in the way you impale yourself on him, defiant even against the impossible stretch. Your pussy is tight around the swollen head of his cock, strangling it as your nails dig into his shoulders. You grind in slow, desperate circles. Tears roll down your cheeks as you bite them to keep from crying out, your body fighting against every inch.
Enjin watches with a dark glint in his eyes â you trying so hard for him makes him want to flip you over and fuck you into the cushions. But heâd let you have it at your own paceâŠfor now.Â
Releasing your hip, Enjin spits into his palm, rubbing his slick fingers over your clit in slow steady circles.Â
âSuch a hard-headed girlâcâmereâŠâ
Enjin takes a long drag from the joint, balancing it between his fingers as he grabs the back of your neck. His lips crash into yours before you can think.
You gasp and Enjin takes the opportunity to exhale the smoke deep into your lungs, taking the harshest of the hit himself. You're left with only the smooth, earthy flavor warming your chest before it melts through your limbs.
But itâs the way he kisses you after that really knocks the ground out from under you. His tongue pushes past your lips, tangling with yoursâhungry, messy, like he wants to steal the little air you have left until youâre only breathing him in.
Your arms wrap around his neck, hands buried in his soft buzzed undercut, anchoring yourself. You moan into his mouth and he swallows it greedily, teeth nipping your lower lip before diving right back in. All the while, his thumb keeps grinding into your clit, faster now, like heâs keeping rhythm with the pulse thatâs beating under your skin.
Why does it feel this good? How is he doing this to your body? Sânot fair!Â
Not realizing you could feel this good from a kiss, you're unraveling in real time. Your mind goes blank with every pulse, every word, every inch. Youâre not even fully seated yet, but you can already feel the blunt head of his cock grinding against your cervix, the pressure building with each centimeter you drop. You never imagined you could feel this fullâlike he might actually breach your womb.
The thought alone has you trembling, unstable, your aching thighs giving out, causing you to slide down a bit too fast. The thick veins along his length rake across your g-spot and your body snaps. A sharp, helpless spasm rocks you as your breath catches and a small, unexpected orgasm rolls through you.
Enjin pulls back just enough to let you breathe, though your body doesnât stop shivering, lost in a blur of pleasure and pain.
âEh... did you just cum, Princess?â
The question is rhetorical, full of smug amusement, as he can feel the increasing wetness leaking down his cock, making it all the easier for you to slide down.   Â
Teasing your earlobe, Enjinâs tongue dips in to flick at the shell of it, making you clench.
âHA! Good fucking girl! A lilâ more and I bet sheâll be a real squirter fâer me.â
Enjin beams, proud of his Trash Princess. No woman had ever taken him this deepânot even close. Enjin hadnât expected you to be any different. And yetâŠwhen Enjin looks down, he releases a groan deep from his gut.
The sight alone almost has Enjin nutting in you -- your drooling cunt spread so wide around his girth, sitting almost at his base. A thought flashes briefly â it's kinda like heâs a virgin again. Parts of his dick had never experienced this kind of molten heat so maybe, in a sense, he is? Enjin didnât fucking care if he was though, as he ainât about to be with the way your pretty pussy is giving way like itâs made for him.Â
âRun that back.â
Enjin takes the final drag, pinching the smoldering end of the joint between his fingers before flicking it aside. He leans in again, slower this time. Thereâs no rush in how his mouth seals over yours. The second shotgun is less about the smoke and more about the feel of youâyour lips parting for him, your breath syncing to his, and the small whimper you make as he sucks slowly on your tongue.
The haze spreads between you both, thick and warm. Simultaneously, his knuckles tease your clit, a soft schlick sound filling the space between you from you getting wetter by the second. By the strength of some unknown force, you finally bottom out, immediately collapsing into his neck.Â
You both moan. Enjin feels you quivering from the inside out and you feel him everywhereâshifting your guts into your ribs.Â
âIâŠI did it.â
Your smile blooms soft against his inked skin, lips grazing the spot where you can feel his own pulse hammering wildly.
Enjinâs in no state to congratulate you on your impressive feat. Completely sheathed in you raw, coring out your gummy walls into the shape of his dickâsomething in his brain chemistry fizzles. Like a bit of pussy juice, acting as a catalyst, slipped into his dick and traveled straight to his prefrontal cortex to corrode all of his previous thoughts about you. The result is clear.
Enjin doesnât give a fuck if you are a snobby, annoying, needy lilâ brat who never let him get away with shit and bitches at him constantlyâthe furtherest thing from his type.
Because honestly?
Motherfuck a bullshit-ass type. Your slutty ass pussy is fuckinâ perfect.Â
For the first time, Enjin realizes he might be in love with you.Â
How could he even look at another woman after this?
One thing if for certainâEnjin is going to make damn sure you never have the desire to even look at another man.
Both his hands trail up your hips, groping and squeezing the plump curves of your ass before settling at your waist. His blunt black nails dig into your skin to pull you back from his neck.
Enjin whistles, admiring the stagnant stream of spittle lingering on your chin. Look at youâcockdrunk just from sitting on him.Â
Enjin doesnât think heâs ever seen you look more beautiful.
âEnjiiiiiin,â you whimper, not being able to hold yourself up.Â
But your cries for him only inflame the predatory smirk on his lips, your honeyed cunt hugging his cock so beautifully.Â
âMakes sense you fell from heaven, huh Princess?âÂ
Whether you're ready or not, Enjin forcibly winds you on his cock in slow circles. Your clit brushes up against the well placed pubic ring like a reward for being the first to experience it.
ââcause this pussyâs a fuckinâ angel.â
Your eyes are already lodged in your skull so you canât even roll them at his cheesy line. But if your pussy is an angel, then Enjin's dick is most definitely a demonâhis sinful cock tearing through your insides and condemning you straight to hell.
Moaning loudly, your body moves on autopilotâchasing more friction from the rhythm Enjin set. Good thing everyone was at happy hour or you would for sure be attracting some major attention now.
Although, to be honest you probably wouldnât notice anyway. You donât even notice when your bra falls away, your tits spilling out just so Enjin could watch them jiggle in his face. You only register its disappearance once his mouth latches onto one of your nipples, his tongue finally saying itâs âhelloâ.
âShiiiiit!â
Your hips stutter, then stall when Enjin tugs at your sensitive bud with his teeth.
âHeyâŠI know my Trash Princess ainât tappinâ out just yet.âÂ
SMACK!
Enjin brings a heavy palm down on your ass and your pussy clenches tighter around him. Enjin relishes the way your plush curves mold to his hands, each smack adding to the wet, messy sounds between you. Youâve already leaked enough on his lap to stain the sofa beneath you.
âNah, ya just got on the ride, baby. Giddy-up.â
SMACK!
âNNNGH!â You weakly glare daggers at him.Â
Any softness on Enjinâs face has since been replaced by something far more mischievous. If you thought he was obnoxious beforeâyouâre about to learn heâs a full-blown menace inside of pussy.
Wobbling, you gather together what little resolve you have left to roll your hips forward.Â
âHAAH! Sâtoo biiiiiig,â you whine but your body canât stop.
The juices saturated between you grant enough momentum to finally get a good, smooth bounce going.
âFuckâthatâs it, ride it like itâs yours, baby.â Enjin encourages you.
The way you cream harder every time he calls you 'baby' doesn't go unnoticed.
âOh? You like me talking sweet to the pussy, baby girl?âOr do you just like being my filthy lilâ trash slut, hm Princess?â
Gritting your teeth, you grab on to Enjinâs shirt like reins, pulling him closer to you.Â
âY-YouâreâŠgonnaâahshiiiitâhafta f-fuck mâbetter than thisssâŠif you want m-me to be your âbaby girlââTrash Daddy.â
Unfortunately, your sass falls flatâyou can barely keep your head from lulling to the side. But Enjinâs thoroughly entertained nonethelessâheâll take âTrash Daddyâ over âTrashy Poppinsâ any day.
âBet.â
Electricity runs through Enjin. Heâs all charged upânow itâs his turn to unleash.
Your brow furrows from the noise Enjin makesâyouâre not sure if he just laughed or snarled. But it's the only warning you get.Â
Sliding down the sofa a bit, adjusting himself for stability, Enjin spreads his legs, planting his feet firmly on the floor as he bullies his cock up into you like he's breaking in his own personal fleshlight.
All you can do is go slack, falling forward on his chest. His grip bruising your hips, not allowing you to run from the way his blunt cockhead plows into your womb like a battering ram.Â
The couch beneath you groans, its frame creaking under the strain. The wood and leather protest like the entire thing might fall apart at any moment.
âEnjinnnnn, mâslowwww dowwwnnn!âÂ
Your cries only fuel his frenzy and Enjin knows from the way youâre gushing on him you can take it.
Fuckâthis sweet lilâ pussy is just so good for him. Imagine if he never met you.Â
If you neverâ
Enjin cuts the thought off cold.Â
Moving before you can blinkâyour world flips. One second heâs pummeling up into you, the next youâre on your back.Â
Enjin peels away his shirt, muscles flexing as he looms over you. His hands curl around your ankles to keep them pinned overhead. A single bead of sweat catches your bleary eyes as it slides down his bare chest, gliding over firm muscle. The bold ink patterns seem to come alive on his skin. He looks so fucking sexy right now and you canât help but to shamelessly ogle him.
Yet, thereâs something much too serious and somber about Enjinâs current demeanor. Youâve been staring at him far too long to go unnoticed. The highly expressive, sassy powerhouse is rarely this silent. He should be teasing you right now, asking some smartass shit like if youâre âenjoying the viewâ.Â
âEnjin?â
Your sweet voice hits his ears and instantly you have his attention again. Enjin flashes you a pearly white smile.
âHeh, enjoy the break, Princess? You wont get another.â
Ignoring the question in your eyes, Enjin folds you into a mating press, thrusting to the hilt all in one motion. The sound of flesh lewdly slapping against flesh fills the room, as do your cries.
But thereâs still something else burning in his eyes. Enjin knows itâs unfair not to be honest with you, but taking out his unspoken feelings on your pretty pussy is the only way he can express himself at the moment.Â
Suddenly, thereâs a loud creak followed by a decisive snap and two of the sofaâs legs give out. If your sweat and cum weren't like glue on the old leather youâd surely slide off head first. You yell out in alarm, but Enjin doesnât give a fuck about the damn sofa.
His mood is still soured by the thought that wouldnât be shaken away until he confronted itâ
If you never fell.
But you did. He found youâand now that Enjin has you under him like this, he needs to fuck the point heâs concluded into you:
If Rudo ever finds a way to the Sphere, Enjin will personally travel there and see to your ex-husband himself.Â
Hell, he might even rail you in front of him a few timesâshow him what a real man could do. Maybe even a realâŠhusband?
If the sounds of sloshing fluids and skin slapping skin weren't ringing so loudly in your ears that it drowned out everything else, you would have thought Enjin had lost his mind with the way he was cackling above you. He sounds completely deranged, laughing at the idea of him finally wanting to settle down all while continuing to pound you deeper into the broken sofa.
But despite being high off weed and your pussy, Enjinâs mind has never been more clearâhe wants to lock you down.
âHah⊠P-Princess, can ya feel me in your tummy? RightâŠâ Enjinâs golden eyes lock on the ever-so-slightly distended bulge from the monstrous intrusion in your guts.
â....right, here.âÂ
Throwing your legs over his shoulders, his large hands splay across your sweat sheened belly. Youâre squirming under the heat of Enjin sandwiching your guts between his palm and his cock. Its all far too muchâyouâre too full, unable to really focus on what Enjinâs saying.
âAhh, E-Enjâmâ c-cum, g-gonna mmmâŠâ you hiccup, swallowing your tears.
Your nails rake down his arm to ground yourself but your body is thrumming too hard, adrift in the rush rolling through every one of your wired nerves. Your tits bounce obscenely every time your velvety walls devour his cock back down to the base. Enjinâs pubic piercing bucking against your clit has you clutching onto his dick like you were about to break it off.
You feel so fucking good. Enjin desperately needs to feel you creaming on his cock, and you would be soon if your kitten nails raking down his armsâ adding more red to his already inked skinâ were any indication.Â
âThatâs it, Princess, hahâfuck, baby, I got you. Squirt for your Trash Daddy.â
As if on command, the knot inside you coils to its breaking point, prickling every nerve, releasing a warm rush of fluids. Your body tingling in ecstasy, you quickly tumble over your peak, eyes blinded by speckles of brightness as you cum.
Yet Enjin hasn't slowed, his continuous pounding forcing more of your cum and squirt to gush out of youâthe melody of his now drenched balls colliding with your wet ass only growing loude
âFuck, thatâs it. Pussy cryinâ like she wants my cum, PrincessâŠâÂ
Youâre barely conscious from all the pleasure, eyes rolling back into your head.Â
âSheâs jealous that slutty throat of yours got all my cum, now itâs her turn to swallow, isnât that right?â
Itâs a rather roundabout way for Enjin to ask if he can nut inside you, but then again, he wasnât really asking. The thought of breeding you makes him feral.Â
âAhhâfânnghhhh!â
Non-verbal and fucked dumb, youâd probably agree to anything right now. Youâre an utter messâpussy stretched beyond anything you thought possible, face sticky with slobber rolling down to pool in the folds of your neck.Â
âOâcourse it isâŠgonna dump all these trash babies into my princessâ sweet lilâ cunt.â
Although you are super turned on by the thought of Enjin breeding you, there's no way you have any idea how serious Enjin is about putting a baby in you. How could you? You donât even realize the love confession his cock is professing to you.
âFUHHHHâtake it!â
Enjin pumps thick ropes of his cum into your tummy as his body thrashes on top of yours. The primal intensity has you vibrating as another orgasm rips through your overstimulated and overworked pussy. Filled the brim, his spunk overflows, sploshing out of your pussy as he rocks his hips, urging his seed deeper to plant right in your womb.
In the afterglow, the two of you lie off-kilter in a tangled heap on the broken sofa. Thereâs blood rushing to your headâ not the worst place for it, you think, all things considered. Enjinâs weight is heavy, his chest heaving into yours, warm and sticky as he wraps you in his arms.Â
Just as you feel you both might drift off like this, Enjin stirs. Flinching, you whimper as Enjin wills himself up, his cock sliding out of your pussy with a squelchy suctioning noise. Your knees part for him with zero resistance as he inspects his handiwork, peeling apart your battered pussy lips to reveal your dug out slit.Â
âWhewww,â Enjin whistles at the sight of the thick creampie glistening in your core. âAll this cum your cute pussy pulled outta meâyouâd think she was my jinki.â
Sober, you likely would have slapped him for referring to your pussy as his vital instrument. But ecstasy clouds your logic, so high off endorphins and other substances, you only giggle. It is kinda funny you suppose.
âYeahâsquirtinâ on command like that. Definitely an attack type.â
Spread open, the thick plug of spunk froths out of you. But Enjin simply tuts, pushing it right back in, not wanting to waste a single drop.
âYeah, how about that, âmma duel wielder! Yup, definitely gotta name âer nowâwhat you thinkinâ I should call her, princess?â
Enjin sees the way your pretty cunny is twitching, and in his pussy drunk mind, it's an approval. The spasms that still quake through you are like tremors of Morse Codeâyour slutty pussy agreeing with him, begging for more. Flipping you over on your belly, Enjin is more than happy to fulfill any request of his new vital instrument.
âGot it! Cumbringer! The Umbreaker and The Cumbringer. Nice ring to âem, dontâcha think?â
Cumbringer!?
Later, you would definitely regret being so thoroughly fucked out of your mind you didnât put a stop to this. Enjin is most definitely going to be insufferably proud of himself for the next 3-6 business weeks. Heâd lord this over you and tease you with not-so-subtle hints around the rest of the cleaners.Â
Yet, as Enjin is swabbing his huge cock through your folds, you feel the ache of loss in your core, wanting to be filled again and you canât seem to find the fucks to careâyou just needed more of his dick, likeâŠnow.
Pleased with your compliance, Enjin thumbs the dips at the small of your back, perching your ass up so your back arches real nice.
âTrash Daddyâs gonna take real good care of Cumbringer from now on, too. Make âer live up to the name.â
When Enjin pushes into you again, the new angle has him bullying against your g-spot with even more intensity than before. Seeing the way you jolt, he holds back from going as deep this time to directly abuse the spot. Slick runs down your legs and despite how slippery the ruined leather cushions are beneath you, Enjin still holds you firm as his cock sloshes through your ruined pussy.
âSay, how much anima you think is in my nut, Princess?â
You donât respond but Enjin, proving to have the stamina of a beast, feels like he should give you at least two more doses just to be sure.
â
Fading in and out of a euphoric stupor, youâre unsure how much time passes. Absolutely cockdrunk, at some point, youâd simply just surrendered. Your pussy clearly has zero complaints about being a jinki for Enjinâs cock and you are too dumb once you get a lil dick to stop him.
Somehow, youâve ended up folded over the wide coffee table. Itâs unstable beneath you, but Enjin doesnât seem to care what he breaks when heâs fucking you. He only moved from the sofa when the back of it finally broke.
Straining, you think you hear voices but everything feels so far away and fuzzy. The room gets darker and you realize Enjinâs thrown his coat over you. Still sheathed deep inside you, Enjinâs cock plants lazy kisses to your womb as he speaks rather casually to someone.
Hmm, did he get a call? Is that Semiu?
Semiu is likely calling, wondering why you both havenât shown up to happy hour yetâshit. Thereâs no way youâre making it in this condition; your limbs are toast. You canât even move the weight of Enjin's bulky jacket off of you, the heavy material trapping you in the humidity of your own breath and sweat. But in a way, the warmth is comforting. Your cheek resting against the wood, you allow the tent of muggy heat and his cock moving languidly inside you to lull you into complacencyâ in your delirium, everything feels like a nice dream.
Yet Enjin is fully alert, a shit eating grin on his face as he stares down Semiu and Gris who had just walked in on Enjin shamelessly beating your doonies down. Enjin only spared your modesty by covering you up, but he has no qualms with either Gris or Semiu seeing him in all his glory and doesnât even bother pulling out of you.
A fact that is painfully clear as he pats the pockets of his jacket draped over you for his cigsâhe might as well smoke if heâs giving you a break.
âI win,â Semiu turns to Gris, hand out expectantly.
Semiuâs cool expression never changes but there is amusement in her eyes as Gris fishes into his pockets and places a stack of bills into her hand.
âTsk, damnâŠâ Gris shakes his head, although heâs not shocked.Â
The two of you are down so horrendously bad for each other that this should have happened long ago as far as everyone else was concerned. The tension has been at an unbearable level for those around you, the way the two of you picked at each other non-stop like a kidâs first crush.
Alas, youâre an airhead and Enjin is so stubborn heâs delusional. So the older Cleaner members couldnât help, but place bets on when and where you and Enjin would finally slip between the sheets. Its a shame that you weren't in one of your beds right now--in between actual sheets--instead of the lounge becoming collateral damage.
âYou know, after all the game you talked about winning your money back at poker tonight, Bro said you were a no-show because you knew you were gonna loseâŠâ Gris eyes the boneless, quivering lump that is you under Enjinâs jacket.Â
Enjin really did a number on you. Your nonsensical babbles pouting for Enjin to âmake sure to tell Semiu to bring you back some fries from the barâ obviously means you have no idea that they are actually in the room.
âBut it looks like you have your âace in the hole' for an entirely different game.â
Enjin chortles. His hips stutter forward a bit too hard and you squeak in protest, he just hushes you.
âAwe, so you came back all this way to check-up on us? How sweet,â Enjin says sarcastically, taking a drag from his cigarette.
âHardly. Rudo accidentally chugged an entire beer he thought was sodaâthen proceeded to throw it all up over Zanka,â Semiu says flatly.Â
Enjin attempts to hold back his laughter as Semiu continues with a sigh. She explains thatGris helped carry Rudo back, promptly putting his little blacked out ass to bed. Zanka locked himself in the bathroom immediately upon returning.
âAlthough they're sure to be occupied for the rest of the night, since the kids are back in the building you need to wrap this shit up Enjinâshe looks like she could use the break anyway.â
Semiu casts a sympathetic look your way. She did warn you about Enjin though, so he was your mess to deal with now.Â
âSure thing,â Enjin says, patting your form underneath his coat, âIâve trained my new jinki well enough for tonight.âÂ
Semiu takes one look at the absolutely diabolical grin on Enjinâs face and decides she's already had enough of his shit for the night.
She sighs again. âJust hurry it up, alright?â
Enjin gives Semiu a cheeky salute. Yet the second her back is turned, Enjin mimes a dramatic chefâs kiss to the air for Gris. Enjinâs eyes roll back like heâs just had the best meal of his life.Â
Gris snorts, shooting him a wink and a thumbs-up for a âjob well doneâ like a proud teammate before heading out of the room as well.
âOne more thing.â
Semiu pauses in the doorway, hands resting on the double doors, surveying the crime scene-like state of the lounge. The sofa is toast, the coffee tableâs on life support, and there's a growing puddle under you, spilling over to slowly drip off its edge onto the floor.
âIf youâre just going to recklessly rawdog her, at least get her on the pill. Alice can sort that out tomorrowâright after you replace every piece of furniture youâve both annihilated.â
Enjin simply shrugs, taking another drag of his cigarette.
âI supposeâŠwe can stop by Aliceâs too.âÂ
Semiu just rolls her eyes, only to wrinkle her nose as a wave of stale air wafts by.
âAnd for the love of godâcrack a window. Smells like fresh ass in here.â
Once the doors finally click shut, Enjin rips his jacket off of you and smiles. Youâre still blissed out in lalaland while your pussy, Cumbringer, is clenching around him like she has one more go left in her.
Grabbing your arm, he pulls you up. Still sheathed inside you, he sits back on his knees, bringing you with him, your back pressed against his chest.
âMmmmâ*yawns* Was that Semiu on the call, Enj?â
Call? Oh, heh.
âHa, yeah baby girl, just Semiu on the line,â Enjin lies too easily.Â
Itâs for your own benefit thoughâno need to ruin your bliss with anything silly like embarrassment or shame from being walked-in on. Hell, unless Semiu says something, Enjin might be able to get away with not ever telling you.
âShe said they ran outta fries though. Iâll get ya some later, yeah? Jusâ need Cumbringer to clock in one more time, Princess...â
Enjin rocks his hips with yours in a slow wave and your pout melts, no longer caring about the fries. Your head tips back onto his shoulder as he wraps his arms around you.
âAh, mmmm, b-butângnh! She mentioned something about hotdogs and getting pills tomorrow? Is that a mission?â
Enjin hums to keep from laughing as he turns your face towards him. He smirks devilishly against your lips.
Distracting you with sweet chaste kisses, Enjin rubs gentle circles over your womb. Youâre gonna be so fucking hot waddling around HQ in your slutty ass uniform, tits leaking and belly full with his brats.Â
The only pill heâd get from Alice would be a fertility pill.
âNothing my slutty baby girl or my Cumbringer gotta worry about, Princess. Leave everything tâme.â
đđ§: ahh tysm for reading, especially if you are new to my writing. enjin brain rot is lethal. i needed to get this outta my system! jjk girlies forgive me for straying from my wip list and kinktober lol. definitely down to write more of him. i have a p2 and another enjin story (an AU) idea. but i have to focus on my jjk kinktober now! âĄ
also, in case anyone is wonderingâyes, reader's jinki is a labubu and yes, enjin just guilt tripped reader into growing him his own personal stash djhscjhdfj.
banner: mash up of official manga + rororogi mogera 'last mall' doujin panels.
⧠ââ satoru just needs one final push (nsfw)
he physically canât cum until he hears your voice
satoru's been at this for at least half an hour by now.
hand gliding up and down his cock, thumb pressing hard against the bulging vein. he imagines itâs your soft, pliant hands instead of his own that are coaxing him towards an orgasm. his mind is hazy, the vision of you blurry as his hips buck lazily into his grasp. the movement of his wrists speed up when he feels himself teetering on the edge, only for him to be pulled back onto solid ground immediately.
he's been at this for at least half an hour and yet, he still can't reach the sweet, sweet relief he was aching for. you're to blame, he thinks. the tight squeeze of your pussy around his cock, enveloping him in a special kind of warmth, has ruined everything else for him. especially the now-slick palms of his own.
even the polaroid he keeps in his wallet isn't enough. not even his favourite â the one where you're on your knees in front of him, mouth stretched around his cock. your eyes are locked onto the camera in his hands, and the faux eye contact makes him stifle a groan. but he still needs more.
he dials your number.
you pick up at the second ring.
"hey, babe, what's up?" your voice is amplified by satoru's phone, pressed up against his ear. he feels his balls tighten.
âpleaseâŠ,â he whimpers through gritted teeth. itâs followed by shallow breaths. then the wet shlicks of his precum being smeared all over his length. it glistens with obscenity, and the shame of getting off to the mere sound of his name uttered in your voice.
âsatoru? are you okay? you soundâŠout of breath.â
though your words were innocent, to him, your voice was no different from porn.
âhaah, yes, i-iâm, fffuck, iâm fineâplease, say my name again,â his voice cracks, and so does his poorly-maintained facade of composure.
âwhatâsatoru, whatâs going on?â your lack of awareness of his dirty actions made him grow heavier in his palms. the strands of his hair were slick with sweat, sticking onto his forehead, head tilted back against the headrest.
âshit, again,â he gasps out, deft fingers tugging at his cock. how you haven't caught on, he's not sure. or maybe you have, and you're just playing dumb. whatever it is, every word makes his breath quicken, his face feel hotter, and his legs tremble more.
âis this a prank?â
âno! please, just keep going. talk to me, anything you want. tell me about your day? pretend as if itâs aâhnghâa life or death situation.â it might as well have been the way he was desperately clawing at any shreds of you.
âumm, okayâŠ? well, i was at the grocery store just now, and there was this lady who was a complete bitch. she cut the queue, and yâknow what she said to me? she said she didnât see me! i mean, hellooo?? she couldâve justââ
âfuck!â a loud groan interrupts your little rant.
spurts of cum spill onto satoruâs hand and lap, all of which, of course, you do not see. his chest heaves with relief, head tipped against the headboard. he lays still for a moment, nothing but shaky breaths leaving his lips. the other end of the line is silent too.
for a moment, he thinks you hung up. left him to ride out the aftershocks of his long-awaited orgasm, fingers still twitching against his cock from the muscle memory.
warning ladies !! do not spit in gojoâs mouth unless youâre ready for him to nut instantly!
âcâmon baby,â he whines, voice all breathy and cocky, his blue eyes sparkling looking greedy. âiâve been good. spit in my mouth, please?â
you laugh, because this six-foot-whatever menace who can literally warp reality is pouting like a brat because he wants your spit.
âyouâre so fucking weird, toru.â
âyou are weird,â he corrects instantly, tongue already poking out a little. ânow câmon.... iâm dying here. my dickâs so hard itâs bout to file a complaint.â
you roll your eyes but lean in anyway, gripping his jaw with one hand, thumb pressing into the soft skin just under his bottom lip. he opens wider, eyes half-lidded, that signature gojo smirk twitching at the corners because he knows exactly how nasty this is.
you gather it slow on purpose, letting him watch, then spit directly onto his waiting tongue. thick, warm, right in the center.
the sound he makes is downright criminal. a broken little moan-groan that vibrates straight through his chest and into yours.
âfuckâ again,â he gasps, âdo it again. spit like you mean it.â
you do it again, messier this time, letting some of it miss and drip down his chin. he doesnât even wipe it. just lets it slide while his eyes roll back.
âyouâre actually getting off on this, huh?â you tease, grinding down slow on the massive bulge straining against the fabric. âbig bad strongest and all it takes is a little spit to make you stupid?â
âshut up and degrade me properly,â he whines, but heâs grinning like an idiot, tongue still out. âcall me a nasty little slut or sum. iâm literally leaking for you right now.â
you laugh again, i mean you canât help it. before you do the request, you reach down and shove his sweats just low enough to free him. heâs flushed dark at the tip, already dripping down the shaft.
âopen wider, pretty boy.â
he obeys instantly, loving every second of being absolutely humiliated by you.
you spit again, then lean down and lick into his mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue while you sink down onto his cock.
satoruâs whole body shudders. he moans into your mouth, hands scrambling on your hips, already babbling.
âmore!! fuckâ spit on me while you ride me. please baby iâll do anything. iâll buy you a country. iâll cancel infinity for the rest of the night. just keep spitting in my fucking mouthââ
âshush it toru ~~~â
more subby!gojo?
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