Hi! I was reading on wattpad and I noticed that the account I was on is publishing people's fanfictions as their own. The op says it's translated from tumblr, but still uses the all rights reserved tag. I am aware that a lot of people don't like when their works are translated, so I wanted to warn you!
Hey Anon thank you sm for sharing this, i had no clue?!
😭 wth I never thought this would ever happen to me at ALL
Everyone, please. Do not repost or translate my work! Please 🙏 I only post here on Tumblr and at times on my Wattpad and that is all. Please don't do this!
Do you think you could pretty please write Gachiakuta angst?! Like them saying something hurtful to us in an argument🙏🙏I LOVE ANGSTT
I LOVE ANGSTT AS WELL!!! OF COURSE, all here for the pain, my lady! ⚘️⚘️ also, it was really fun writing for Zodyl
Enjin - Are you done?
“Are you even listening to me?” you asked, quieter this time.
Enjin sat at the table, nursing a coffee that had long since gone cold. While you laid out, for the fifth time, how disappearing into No Man’s Land without so much as an “I’m alive” text was completely fucked up, he didn’t seem to hear a word.
He tilted his head, blond hair sliding into his eyes. That same half-smile clung to his mouth like it had been tattooed there. “I heard you. You’re upset because I didn’t come back when I said I would. Again.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Got caught up. Happens.”
You glared, heat crawling up your throat. “yeah, and?"
“Look, I thought you knew who you were dealing with by now, princess.” His tone stayed light, almost playful. “I don’t do the whole ‘check-in on time’ thing. Never have.”
You took a deep breath, told yourself to be the bigger person, to not let his dismissiveness burn you alive. “That’s not an excuse, Enjin. That’s just you choosing not to try.”
He finally pushed the mug aside and slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re doing that thing again. Where you talk like I’m supposed to turn into someone else if I like you enough—which I do.” The smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore. “But spoiler: I’m not gonna.”
“Are you fucking stupid? I’m not asking you to change who you are. I’m asking you to give a damn whether I’m okay when you vanish for three days. That’s not a personality transplant. That’s the bare minimum.”
He watched you for a long second, then exhaled through his nose—almost a laugh, sharp enough to cut. “Alright. You done?”
The question landed like a slap.
Your mouth opened, closed. Heat rushed behind your eyes, but you refused to let the tears fall. Not in front of him. “You are a real fucking asshole, you know that?” Your voice came out small, then steadier, colder. “You can sit there looking bored while I’m falling apart, and your only concern is whether the conversation is over yet. Like I’m just background noise.”
Enjin’s jaw flexed—the first crack in his armor. But he didn’t take anything back. Didn’t soften. “You knew I wasn’t good at this,” he said quietly. “I told you that from the start.”
“Yeah. You did.” You swallowed hard. “But I thought maybe… maybe you’d at least try not to make me feel like garbage for caring about you.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
“Babe, that’s not what I—”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” You stood, chair scraping against the floor like a scream. “I’m done. That’s what you want, right? So I’m done.”
You turned your back on him before the tears could spill before your chest could crack open in front of the one person who didn't seem to care enough to stop it. The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the apartment you used to share, wondering—if he was even capable of wondering—whether this time he had finally pushed you too far to come back.
Zodyl - You are a waste of my time
The lab smelled like scorched metal and something faintly organic—rotting vitality, maybe. Zodyl stood at the central workbench, sleeves of his Watchman coat rolled to the elbows, purple markings under his sunken eyes looking darker in the half-shadow. He didn’t look up when you entered.
You’d waited two weeks for him to surface from this place. Two weeks of messages ignored, of footsteps echoing down empty corridors, of the quiet dread that maybe this time he really had forgotten you existed outside the periphery of his theories.
“Zodyl.”
His scalpel paused mid-incision on whatever grotesque imitation core lay splayed open before him. Only then did he glance over—expression blank, eyes flat as polished amethyst.
“You’ve been down here for days,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I thought… maybe we could go somewhere. Just for a few hours. Away from all this.”
He exhaled once through his nose. Not quite a sigh. More like registering an irrelevant variable.
“I’m working.”
“I know. But you always are.” You stepped closer, boots scuffing against concrete flecked with dried blood and chemical residue. “I’m not asking you to stop. Just… pause. For me.”
The scalpel resumed its path. A thin line of dark fluid welled up. He spoke without looking at you again.
“Pausing is inefficiency. Every second I spend not advancing the work is a second the Sphere stays untouched."
Your chest tightened. You’d heard versions of this before—cold logic delivered like fact, never cruelty, because cruelty would require feeling something first.
“I get that you want to tear it all down,” you said quieter, soft, trying to make it sound like a joke. “..B-but I’m here. I’ve always been here. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
He set the scalpel down with surgical precision. Finally turned to face you fully. Tall, broad-shouldered, coat hanging like a shroud. Those thick brows framed eyes that held nothing—no warmth, no irritation, just evaluation.
“You’re asking if sentiment has utility.” His voice was low, almost clinical. “It doesn’t. Not in this equation.”
“I’m not an equation, Zodyl.”
“You are when you stand between me and progress.” He tilted his head slightly, the white streaks catching light again. “You want time. Time is the only currency that matters here, and you’re asking me to waste it. On what? Conversation? Touch? Distraction?” A pause, shorter than a heartbeat. “You’re a waste of my time.”
Silence swallowed the room. The faint drip of something viscous from the table was suddenly deafening.
You stared at him—really stared—searching for the crack, the flicker, anything that might prove the man who once let you lean against his shoulder after a failed experiment still existed somewhere under the ice. Nothing. Just the same unreadable mask.
“…Right.” Your voice cracked on the single word. You swallowed it back. “I guess I finally understand.”
You turned before the burn behind your eyes could betray you. Footsteps echoed too loud in the empty space as you walked away.
He didn’t call after you.
He didn’t need to.
The door hissed shut behind you, sealing the lab—and him—away again. Somewhere in the dark, Zodyl returned to his work without a second thought, the scalpel picking up exactly where it left off.
Do you think you could pretty please write Gachiakuta angst?! Like them saying something hurtful to us in an argument🙏🙏I LOVE ANGSTT
I LOVE ANGSTT AS WELL!!! OF COURSE, all here for the pain, my lady! ⚘️⚘️ also, it was really fun writing for Zodyl
Enjin - Are you done?
“Are you even listening to me?” you asked, quieter this time.
Enjin sat at the table, nursing a coffee that had long since gone cold. While you laid out, for the fifth time, how disappearing into No Man’s Land without so much as an “I’m alive” text was completely fucked up, he didn’t seem to hear a word.
He tilted his head, blond hair sliding into his eyes. That same half-smile clung to his mouth like it had been tattooed there. “I heard you. You’re upset because I didn’t come back when I said I would. Again.” He shrugged one shoulder. “Got caught up. Happens.”
You glared, heat crawling up your throat. “yeah, and?"
“Look, I thought you knew who you were dealing with by now, princess.” His tone stayed light, almost playful. “I don’t do the whole ‘check-in on time’ thing. Never have.”
You took a deep breath, told yourself to be the bigger person, to not let his dismissiveness burn you alive. “That’s not an excuse, Enjin. That’s just you choosing not to try.”
He finally pushed the mug aside and slid his hands into his pockets. “You’re doing that thing again. Where you talk like I’m supposed to turn into someone else if I like you enough—which I do.” The smile didn’t reach his eyes anymore. “But spoiler: I’m not gonna.”
“Are you fucking stupid? I’m not asking you to change who you are. I’m asking you to give a damn whether I’m okay when you vanish for three days. That’s not a personality transplant. That’s the bare minimum.”
He watched you for a long second, then exhaled through his nose—almost a laugh, sharp enough to cut. “Alright. You done?”
The question landed like a slap.
Your mouth opened, closed. Heat rushed behind your eyes, but you refused to let the tears fall. Not in front of him. “You are a real fucking asshole, you know that?” Your voice came out small, then steadier, colder. “You can sit there looking bored while I’m falling apart, and your only concern is whether the conversation is over yet. Like I’m just background noise.”
Enjin’s jaw flexed—the first crack in his armor. But he didn’t take anything back. Didn’t soften. “You knew I wasn’t good at this,” he said quietly. “I told you that from the start.”
“Yeah. You did.” You swallowed hard. “But I thought maybe… maybe you’d at least try not to make me feel like garbage for caring about you.”
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
“Babe, that’s not what I—”
“I don’t wanna hear it.” You stood, chair scraping against the floor like a scream. “I’m done. That’s what you want, right? So I’m done.”
You turned your back on him before the tears could spill before your chest could crack open in front of the one person who didn't seem to care enough to stop it. The door clicked shut behind you, leaving him alone in the apartment you used to share, wondering—if he was even capable of wondering—whether this time he had finally pushed you too far to come back.
Zodyl - You are a waste of my time
The lab smelled like scorched metal and something faintly organic—rotting vitality, maybe. Zodyl stood at the central workbench, sleeves of his Watchman coat rolled to the elbows, purple markings under his sunken eyes looking darker in the half-shadow. He didn’t look up when you entered.
You’d waited two weeks for him to surface from this place. Two weeks of messages ignored, of footsteps echoing down empty corridors, of the quiet dread that maybe this time he really had forgotten you existed outside the periphery of his theories.
“Zodyl.”
His scalpel paused mid-incision on whatever grotesque imitation core lay splayed open before him. Only then did he glance over—expression blank, eyes flat as polished amethyst.
“You’ve been down here for days,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady. “I thought… maybe we could go somewhere. Just for a few hours. Away from all this.”
He exhaled once through his nose. Not quite a sigh. More like registering an irrelevant variable.
“I’m working.”
“I know. But you always are.” You stepped closer, boots scuffing against concrete flecked with dried blood and chemical residue. “I’m not asking you to stop. Just… pause. For me.”
The scalpel resumed its path. A thin line of dark fluid welled up. He spoke without looking at you again.
“Pausing is inefficiency. Every second I spend not advancing the work is a second the Sphere stays untouched."
Your chest tightened. You’d heard versions of this before—cold logic delivered like fact, never cruelty, because cruelty would require feeling something first.
“I get that you want to tear it all down,” you said quieter, soft, trying to make it sound like a joke. “..B-but I’m here. I’ve always been here. Doesn’t that count for anything?”
He set the scalpel down with surgical precision. Finally turned to face you fully. Tall, broad-shouldered, coat hanging like a shroud. Those thick brows framed eyes that held nothing—no warmth, no irritation, just evaluation.
“You’re asking if sentiment has utility.” His voice was low, almost clinical. “It doesn’t. Not in this equation.”
“I’m not an equation, Zodyl.”
“You are when you stand between me and progress.” He tilted his head slightly, the white streaks catching light again. “You want time. Time is the only currency that matters here, and you’re asking me to waste it. On what? Conversation? Touch? Distraction?” A pause, shorter than a heartbeat. “You’re a waste of my time.”
Silence swallowed the room. The faint drip of something viscous from the table was suddenly deafening.
You stared at him—really stared—searching for the crack, the flicker, anything that might prove the man who once let you lean against his shoulder after a failed experiment still existed somewhere under the ice. Nothing. Just the same unreadable mask.
“…Right.” Your voice cracked on the single word. You swallowed it back. “I guess I finally understand.”
You turned before the burn behind your eyes could betray you. Footsteps echoed too loud in the empty space as you walked away.
He didn’t call after you.
He didn’t need to.
The door hissed shut behind you, sealing the lab—and him—away again. Somewhere in the dark, Zodyl returned to his work without a second thought, the scalpel picking up exactly where it left off.
Imagine: You had known Enjin back when he was still a gloomy teenager, someone who was afraid to trust others and, judging by the look in his eyes, had become disappointed in the world far earlier than anyone his age should have.
You remembered the first time he walked into the bar where you helped your father work. Your father was on good terms with Alice Stilza, that mad scientist who had simply dropped by, as usual, to knock back a couple of drinks. And Enjin, folding his umbrella before stepping inside, followed after her, casting a sullen amber-eyed glance around the room.
“Another grandson I don’t know about?” your father asked Alice with a smirk.
The woman burst into loud laughter and downed her drink in one go.
“NO! THIS IS ENJIN! COME ON, ENJIN, DON’T BE SHY! INTRODUCE YOURSELF TO THESE WONDERFUL PEOPLE!”
You smiled at him, stepped closer, and held out your hand in greeting, telling him your name.
But Enjin looked at your hand and turned his gaze away. For that, he immediately received a smack on the back of the head from Alice.
“That hurt!” the boy protested, rubbing the back of his head. His cap had slipped slightly, but he quickly adjusted it.
“THEN DON’T ACT LIKE A BRAT! AND DON’T OFFEND THIS GIRL! WHERE ARE YOUR MANNERS?!”
Enjin let out a heavy sigh and finally shook your hand, though it looked more like he was doing you a favor than genuinely wanting to get acquainted.
You weren’t offended.
After all, this was the first time you had seen him, and it would have been foolish to jump to conclusions.
Then you smiled and said: “Do you want me to make you a drink with peach syrup?"
Enjin asked: “Can you actually do that?”
You laughed kindly and replied: “Of course! This is my father’s bar. I’ve practically been hanging around behind this counter since the day I was born.”
“I can hear everything, you know,” your father reminded you.
You beckoned Enjin over with your hand. He sat down on one of the tall bar stools, while you stepped behind the counter and began deftly spinning a glass, pouring different liquids into it. Enjin watched in amazement, clearly impressed by how skillfully you handled everything.
Until, at some point, you got so carried away that part of the drink splashed over the rim in a wave and drenched your father, who was standing nearby.
Everyone froze. You squeezed your eyes shut and said:
“Sorry…”
But your father, clearly used to situations like this, only laughed. Alice laughed next, and then you and Enjin joined in as well.
And who could have thought that this funny little incident, and this not-so-sincere greeting, would become the beginning of your strangest yet strongest friendship?
Because even though you were not a Cleaner, and were still trying to find your true Jinki, Enjin often stopped by your bar just to see you, even after many years. He would sit at the counter until closing time, telling you how his day had gone after yet another chase after a trash beast.
Some evenings, of course, he didn’t always spend his time talking. You had work to do. While local girls kept flirting to Enjin again and again. Sometimes, he would leave with them before the night was even over. And you would silently watch them go, even though deep down, you were far from indifferent. Though admitting that out loud was something you would probably never dare to do.
original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating
Enjin sneaking and slipping into your bed from behind you, slithers his big, inky hands up along the curves of your hips up to the smooth skin beneath your shirt of your rib cage. greedy, inquisitive lips kissing slowly, suggestively at the back of your neck to the slant of your soft shoulder. you softly, tiredly mumble him a whispered enough and he whines a little, continuing on kissing your neck, stopping just at the juncture of your jawline, watching you peer swiftly over your shoulder.
"baby, I've missed you, please let me have this"
"En', no. I'm too tired, I've been on non-stop missions for the past few days, besides..." you slightly adjust yourself a bit, maneuvering the comforting blanket from your body to showcase a deeply nuzzled and coddled Dear sleeping ever so close to your chest. cute tiny little arms holding on to you with a grounding grip, snoring lightly. peacefully.
Enjin groans, irritatingly. slumps his head against your shoulder defeated, then sharply gazes down at the sleeping younger cleaner clinging onto his partner.
"what's he even doing in here anyways? shouldn't he be with Bro or something?"
"Enjin, stop. he had a nightmare, poor baby, and Bro is currently away on a mission. so get over it."
again, Enjin exceeds an annoyed protracted groan, but with more rolled vexation and provocation of not having his alone time with you. and solely, only with you. he rests his chin onto your shoulder, then catches a quick glimpse down at the now awakened young cleaner. smugly grinning up at him, snuggling closer into your warmth and tenderness.
and Enjin could feel his blood vessels pop rigorously along his neck and forehead. the knowing, menacing glint shimmering in the young cleaners eyes, triggering something so frenzied.
there is rarely ever a moment where the cleaners have seen you with Enjin and he isn’t touching you in some way. his hands just always seem to be on you, whether you’re sitting in the common room, sleeping, or simply minding your business.
You’ve just came back from a mission, feeling gross and reeking from trash, so you come to the conclusion its best to shower before greeting the others, especially Enjin— the moment he sees you its unlikely he’s letting go for a long time, even if you’re smelling awful.
you sneak back to your room and into the shower, allowing the warm water to run down your back, soothing the aching muscles and cleansing your skin.
after, you dry off and change, feeling a lot more refreshed and relaxed after the exhausting day. you make yourself downstairs in search of Enjin, spotting him in the common room with Zanka and Rudo, who are busy bickering like usual, but soon go quiet once they spot you.
Enjins eyes meet yours from across the room— you notice the way they glimmer upon seeing you, and how his smirk widens as he beckons you over. Once you’re in reach, he pulls you close, sitting you on his lap, resting his chin on your shoulder as he peppers kisses to your jaw and neck.
Zanka groans whilst Rudo refuses to look up, “Get a room, Enjin— she’s probably tired too, your not helpful” Zanka complains, used to Enjin’s antics of him attacking you with affection.
you smile at Zanka, “yeah, i’m exhausted” sliding off Enjin’s lap, he begins to grumble under his breath about how ‘its not a crime to show his girl some love’
His grumpiness soon dissipates once your head finds its way to his lap, he watches quietly as you get comfy and close your eyes. Rudo looks up, scrunching his nose at the affection, and Zanka simply watches, his eyes softening just a fraction at your sleepy expression, looking at ease as you finally get the chance to rest.
Enjin grabs a nearby blanket draped over the arm of the couch, placing it around you— his hand is soon to find your hair, rubbing your scalp and twirling the strands around his finger as you fall into a deep slumber, feeling nothing but safe in Enjin’s hold.
————
・ ꪖ/n : RAAAA ENJIN!!! he is actually so handsome like why cant he be real 🤤
A/n: Imagine you guys are fully dating in this one bc I feel they’d act way different when you ignore when while dating vs not dating.
This was a part of a request someone had asked for! The first part is gonna take me longer so this should hold you over sorry pookie <3 @mem7067
ENJIN
he will annoy you non stop until you answer him. He was patient with Fu and sat there way too long bugging him so he’ll definitely do the same with you. He’ll ask what he did wrong, why are you ignoring him, do you hate him, do you still love him, anything and everything until he gets something out of you. He’s extra clingy.
To really get you to finally pay attention to him again he might flirt with someone in front of you. Not seriously but enough to rile you up and hopefully get you to at least LOOK at him.
When you finally give in his whole body drops on top of you in exhaustion. “Thank god. I was dying over here. Give me some lovin. I deserve it.”
FOLLO
He’s so distraught. He can’t figure out what it is that he did wrong and that makes him even more anxious. He’s on his knees , hugging your thighs and begging you to tell him what he did wrong so he can fix it. If that doesn’t work he’s getting you as many gifts as possible until you forgive him, hand making you every meal, giving massages, etc.
Sheds a few tears when you finally give in. Hugs you so tight it’s hard to breathe and peppers kisses all over your cheeks.
“Thank you. I love you. You love me still right? Good.”
CORVUS
He won’t play these games..is what he says but he’s a fucking liar. He’ll give you space for a few hours. If you’re still upset after he’ll ask what’s wrong while wrap you in his arms. He’ll plant kisses all around your face and neck, massage your waist and arms, caress your hands with his, etc. He’s gonna try to use physical affection to get you back. He’s gonna make you tell him what’s wrong one way or another.
Just laughs when you drop it. He’ll pull you in for another hug. “See. That wasn’t so hard was it?”
TAMSY
He’s not above restraining you until you break. He’ll threaten it to try and scare you.
He’d start setting shit up and getting his instrument out like he’s really gonna do it, and he might, but it’s mostly a ploy. I think he’d try to scare/intimidate you out of it. He’d even start manipulating by saying shit like “well I must be a horrible boyfriend if you can’t even talk to me. Maybe you should get a new one since I’m so awful.”
He would wear you down with his mental gymnastics.
“I wouldn’t have to do this if you’d just tell me what’s wrong, darling.” He’s smiling and leaning down awaiting a kiss on his cheek.
JABBER
he’s also going to annoy the fuck out of you until you respond. He’s going to follow you around, poke you repetitively, yell in your ear about how much you’re hurting his soul by not responding to him, fake cry loudly.
Once you give in he’s bouncing off the fucking walls and demanding you guys go watch a movie together or something.
“YES! FINALLY! You finally came back to me. This is awesome! Let’s go out! No let’s stay in and watch a movie! No.. let’s-“
GRIS
he’s patient. He’d ask what’s up a few times and then give you space every time you don’t answer. Every time he’s ignored tho.. a little bit of his sanity cracks. Eventually he can’t take it anymore and he’d use his strength to his advantage. He’s grabbing you, lifting you up and throwing you over his shoulder. You can try to fight him but tbh I don’t think it would do much. He’d take you back to his room and then drop you on his bed and sit in front of you, arms crossed, and demand that you two talk out whatever is going on because “that’s what healthy couples do.”
Once resolved he’s gonna kiss your forehead. “I’m proud of you. I know it was hard to talk like this but you did it anyway. Thank you.” Not like you had much choice but he refused to let this ship sink.
Synopsis: Enjin is an infamous flirt, and you are confident that any time his auburn gaze lingers on you with a lazy smirk pressing in his dimples, that sultry voice of his addressing you by every pet name but your own, he is merely teasing. And while Enjin loves to tease you, he isn't exactly sure how to admit he is serious about the way he is obsessed with you.
to sum it up: jeez... how can a man prove he wants you when he struggles to accept it himself?
WC: 7,036
Warning(s): noneeee
"Shut up, Enjin."
Those three little words are like music falling gracefully upon the said man's ears, as his cheeks wrinkle with a satisfied grin that you are all too well-accustomed too. Your brows dig deeper into the crease between them as you glower up at the dirty blonde in all of his six something glory, your hands crossed firmly over your chest as a frown drags your pretty lips downward.
(E/c) eyes rolling, lips kissing teeth, the wrinkle of annoyance plaguing your beautiful face, the very curse of his name to top it all off. Like he's a plague to your existence, and you just love that he is. Sinking into the routine of denying his little flirtations, swatting a hand at his chest or arm when the wrong words tumble from his lips at the wrong time, landing rather poorly in taste.
And with skin buzzing from your previous, stinging point of contact, Enjin revels in the bliss that is watching you get all riled up on his behalf. You tell him to shut up at least twenty times a day like it's your mantra, and you would think that Enjin would have grown tired with your aggravation toward him by now, whether feigned or authentic, but he doesn't think he ever will.
Enjin knows he's a cheeky bastard.
He laughs obnoxiously with his whole body, large palms flat to his abdomen as tears spring to his eyes through unrestrained guffaws - and he always laughs like that at someone else's expense. You can't even count the number of times you've approached Enjin with something embarrassing and he's snorted in your face, cheeks puffing, air spewing through scrunched lips, and hand slapping over his mouth to conceal his entertainment as you bark obscenities at him with flushed cheeks.
He's loud, from the music he blasts through that company jeep to the very manner in which he wrangles it around like it's some kind of cattle rather than a vehicle under his own manipulation. His voice carries across halls, thuds through darkness and early mornings, blabbers the stupidest jokes and slang that you've ever heard in your life coming from a twenty eight year old’s lips.
He eats like a pig, with no manners except for the appreciation he shows toward the person who prepared his meal. He smokes at the drop of a hat, making his presence to a room known with the familiar flick of a lighter and the sound of singing tobacco.
He cheats during card games, roughly nougies the top of Rudo's head in a light headlock just because he knows that it pisses the fifteen year old off, and he flirts like he's flaunting his body around to sell to the entire world.
Oh, he knows he gets on everyone's nerves. In fact, he's proud to. He decided long ago that ragebaiting the people he cares about is his love language, for he's not too good at words or any of the other crap.
And, yeah, it's funny when he's got Semiu threatening to strip him of his choker privileges when he consistently abuses them, calling her in the middle of completing important paperwork to bother her about absolutely nothing, or when he manages to get Gnomulas to flip a table over in the middle of a poorly executed game of Spades.
But nothing compares to when it's you grinding your teeth in vexation as Enjin pushes every single button you could possibly have. And of course, it's different with you. He picks at everyone, but with you, his sincerest form of pestering is by flirting with you.
"You really sure you want me to shut up?" he tilts his head down at you, grin stretching over his face. He's got the doorway blocked as he stands before your room with his elbow pressed above his head to the frame and his other hand planted on his hip. Soft tendrils of his wild hair sway with his movement, and his brow lifts playfully. "You tell me to every day, and yet you always let me come in here and talk your ear off."
"How could anyone ever possibly get you to stop talking?" you mirror the lift of his brow, shifting your weight onto one foot as you glare up at him with weary eyes. "And I don't let you talk. You just don't listen. And you barge in here yourself, by the way."
His brows pinch with his grin, as if to pretend that he is a offended. "I listen to ya plenty! All the time."
"No you don't," you scoff.
"Sure I do. I listened when you told me all about how much you hate super sweet stuff-"
"That's the most useless piece of information you've ever chosen to remember about me."
"No way. It's especially important 'cause you would think someone as sweet as you would prefer otherwise."
You give him a deadpan stare. "You're being gross."
He laughs out, head tossing back. "Didn't like that one either, huh," his voice dips at the edge of his laughter, and you fight the instinct your body has developed to shiver when his words land so seductively. You aren't sure whether it is on purpose or not sometimes, but there is something incredibly lethal about the delicious scratch of Enjin's voice each time he speaks lowly.
And that's what truly bothers you about your coworker and rather close friend of the Cleaners. You've heard that tone time and time again, over and over.
There are times when it's innocent. When he’s simply ruminating in agitation or grumbling incoherently to himself, mulling over something quietly with skepticism and focus. But then there are the times when it's not, when you’ve caught wind of him talking all sweet to some woman in the next town over, loitering outside of a grocery store with heavy lids and telling grins.
You can't stand the way it makes your stomach twist, the way your eye twitches at the very sight any time you happen to intrude. Yet even so, you observe how he keeps every woman he flirts with at a distance - never bothering to offer up means of communication or otherwise, and even far less willing to indulge anyone physically or sexually. He's made the mistake of going home with women before, only to be bombarded with the neediness he so adamantly claims to find unattractive in women.
Enjin avoids the intimate, evading anything that could possibly lead to emotional connection outside of the family he's already built within his occupation. When Enjin flirts, he flirts for fun, for that little thrill of being wanted, of established mutual attraction. He never goes beyond that. Not anymore, and somehow, that only makes it all worse.
Enjin is never serious about anything when it comes to matters outside of what he ordinarily has the capacity to handle. When emotions swarm around, he takes a step back, letting those better equipped to tackle such things take the lead. And it's not as though he's horrible with such things. He's observant, and he gives rather valuable advice to those younger than him. Despite your previous argument, he does listen when it counts. When the kids are struggling with mental ailments. When you demand to be heard, and his playfulness dissapates under the severity of your countenance.
God, he's obsessed with that about you. How hot you get when you're actually serious about something. When you emphasize that you are no longer playing around, and that Enjin will shut up and hear you out as you lecture him about being careless.
Hell yeah, he listens when you have important things to say, but when it comes to anything further than that, like comfort, words of affirmation, and commitment, he's toast. A lost cause. An empty noggin.
So when he does flirt with you, you don't take him seriously. How could you, when he has never taken a single woman seriously himself? Enjin lives to pester, and he has discovered that the easiest way to do so to you is to persistently bombard you with stupid little looks, and that stupid sexy smile, and the stupid twitch of his fingers against your back or your arm or your cheek that you always push away with haste.
You fight against his charms aggressively. You really do, but it becomes harder and harder to do so each day as your true feelings for him blossom under all those disgusted and angry looks you send his way on a daily. Because it's not that Enjin is a bad person, he's just a horrible person to have developed feelings for.
Nevertheless, he's reliable. He's consoling in a silent, effortless way that is far more effective than when he is actively trying to step into a role unsuited for him emotionally. He's thoughtful and encouraging. And while the way he laughs shamelessly into your ear grinds your gears, laughter loud enough to burst an ear drum, he always raps silently at your door at the end of the night to check in on you and make sure you're doing okay.
While his presence is big, he knows when to shrink himself into the warmth of moments where the two of you sit quietly next to each other after a long mission, your head knocking against his broad shoulder as his voice lowly rumbles against you as he speaks to Gris, cigarette hanging from his lips, leg pressing into yours, large arm tucked around your frame like it's nothing.
He tosses your favorite drink to you with a wordless grin when you trudge tiredly into a room. He lets you sit shotgun during every mission the two of you are assigned on together. He lets you braid beads into his hair when his inhibitions have lowered, his body almost numb from alcohol consumption.
He's a good friend. A good guy. Stupid, and unserious, and annoying, but a good man nonetheless. Someone you put your trust in wholeheartedly. Someone you are proud to work alongside at the best of times, and to like him is to doom yourself to an existence of misery and shame.
For your emotions can not seem to get the memo that Enjin is not a contender for your heart. He can't be. That's just not the kind of person he is, and you know it better than anyone.
"Enjin, will you move? Come on, I'm hungry," you groan, moving to push past him, but his ass doesn't budge. He simply shifts his weight to block each direction you attempt to head into, and you grip your hair with a loud sigh. "Oh my god, get out of the way. I'm gonna kill you."
"And I'd be honored," he grins. "You still haven't answered my question, though. I'll let you go once you answer."
"I thought I already told you to shut up."
"You did, and it was nice and all. Really," his golden eyes trail to the ceiling as he pretends to think. "But that still wasn't an answer."
"Why would I give an answer to such a stupid question?"
Enjin pauses, blinking hard and locking eyes with you as his smile diminishes. "Ouch," he drawls. "You think my question was stupid? Just kill a man where he stands, why don't you."
You huff. "Don't play that. We both know you didn't mean anything by it. I'm not feeding your ego with hypotheticals. Your head is already big enough as it is."
You lean up to flick your fingers in the middle of his forehead, and his head jerks slightly, sandy lashes batting at the sensation of your fingers plucking against his skin. Though his ego has been slightly wounded, the corners of his lips curl deviously as he rubs the spot with his tattooed fingers. "Ow... again..."
You smile softly with the shake of your head, turning over your shoulder to move further into your room. Enjin lowers his arm from the door frame, moving to follow you inside.
"Come on, girl," he coaxes through gritted teeth. "It's a simple question. I won't hold any response you have against you."
"That sounds exactly like something you'd do."
"Well, I won't. This time."
You give him a look as you stand beside your bed. "This time?"
He shrugs with a smile, and you click your tongue again.
Watching you turn back around, your back facing him, Enjin deflates slightly. Something nags at him in the back of his mind, tugging heavily and uncomfortably at his chest as he tries to find a way to hide how desperate he is to actually have this conversation with you. But by God, the man doesn't know how or where to even begin with you. Especially when you're so mistrustful of his intentions that you don't even bother to take his questions or words seriously anymore.
He sighs softly, scratching the nape of his buzzed neck. He supposes you have every right not to take him seriously, for Enjin has never once presented himself as a serious guy to you. Or anyone. A wall of ease guards him, and blocks women out from getting too close. He distracts them with false promises, sly looks, and kisses to the cheek, and then he runs. Dangling a carrot from a stick that sways ten kilometers into the sky. Out of reach. Untouched.
The dirty blonde truly isn't as bad as he used to be. Hell, his early twenties were monstrous. He woke up nearly every morning in someone else's bed, smelling of someone else's life, and each time he slipped away in the silence of the early morning, he'd have to watch his back for those of his flings who were insane enough to track him down in public, hounding him about why he never reached back out.
Enjin shudders at the memory. He was so stupid back then, and all those women didn't deserve his horrible lack of communication development and emotional maturity. At least now, pushing thirty, he's sharpened the former a tad, but unfortunately, the latter still needs some tweaking. And it always will. Enjin is man enough to admit that.
But what he is painfully not man enough to do is look you in the eye with no trace of silliness and bear himself raw to you, for the years of pining have finally snapped something in his brain, which he starts to think was the remarkable restraint he has shown in your presence thus far. Only now, he can't take it anymore. He doesn’t want to hold back.
Enjin can't necessarily pinpoint the exact moment he knew you had him screwed, but it certainly began around the time the two of you first met. Your looks, of course, had been the first thing to catch his attention, as Enjin can recognize a beautiful woman from a mile away.
But it wasn't just that you were a beautiful woman. Oh, you proved to be so much more than that not even ten minutes into your introduction to one another. Enjin can envision the way your nose wrinkled and your eyes slimmed when he first greeted you with that flirtatious musicality in his subconsciously sensual tone. The second he called you gorgeous, you were souring, striking him swiftly with a rejection so vile that Enjin can feel the way the color drained from his face to this day.
Then after you humbled him, you clasped his outstretched hand, snapping him out of his stupor as you shook it genially.
At first, teasing you was all it was. Seeking a reaction for entertainment. Giving the newbie a hard time.
But then he saw your strength honed into the effortless manipulation of your jinki, the way your eyes sharpened as you soared through the air and slashed your anima powered weapon through the thick hide of a trash beast, hair whipping about your head as your body twirled, landing perfectly and solidly upon two firm feet.
He saw the maternal instinct you developed toward the children in the Cleaners' care, always eager to pop a squat and sketch out pictures with Remlin or take Rudo shopping for snacks.
He saw, beneath the irritation you've felt toward him from the very start, the underlying passion and care that swam in your eyes each time he came back from a mission that almost cost him his life.
He saw your honest, selfless spirit in the way you muttered angrily to yourself as you dabbed alcohol soaked cotton to a thin gash on Enjin's forehead, standing between his outstretched thighs as your warmth and scent, clean and safe and spiced, washed through his senses. Your other palm pressed to his skin, shielding his hair from his forehead with a long exhale.
And in moments like those, when the silence was stagnant after giving Enjin an earfull on responsibility and safety, he would move his eyes to glance at you mid-pout, studying your face with quiet consideration. His hand would twitch from where it dangled over his knee, itching to touch your thigh. He’d tense, shoulders eventually slumping. You'd mutter something about keeping still, and he'd crack a joke to hide the way his skin burned in your wake.
The twenty eight year old thought that he just might have been in love with you this entire time when he saw you limp into the compound a few months back after a particularly rough mission that he had not been assigned on with you.
Ever a man of dramatics, Enjin flipped, demanding to know what happened and why you were refusing assistance when you were actively holding a hand out to Rudo and Delmon to prevent them from alarmingly moving closer to you. They'd learned not to argue with you when you got like that, stubbornly stewing in your pride, refusing treatment that might have stripped you of your dignity, but Enjin had none of it, as he was hot on your tail.
The two of you got in an argument that day. Enjin had kept moving in to support your side, and you kept pushing away, your bickering traveling down the halls as it escalated into a rather rare, loud disagreement. The only way Enjin thought to find a solution was to carefully swoop in and lift you into his arms bridal style, minding the blood seeping through the gauze wrapped tightly around your shin and the curses you spewed at him. He redirected the two of you to the infirmary, gaze stern as he looked ahead and ignored your protests.
And when he set you down on that hospital bed, arms caging either side of your legs as you both barked in each other's face, he wondered in that very moment why he'd grown so angry with you. Especially when he knew why you so consistently refused help. That nasty habit of independence of yours that he usually found so alluring was both your curse and his, for you'd long convinced yourself that relying on others meant submitting to inferiority.
He just had to have a thing for women who weren't needy. This was where his preference led him, fighting with the most gorgeous woman he'd ever seen in his life until your hand struck him smack across the face.
The slap echoed throughout the hospital room, and as soon as your hand made contact with his cheek, his head snapping into the opposite direction, you both froze. Your hands rose to your mouth as the reality of your actions weighed down on you, and you watched terrified as Enjin remained still.
And he really should have been mad in that moment. He felt the white hot sting of your palm buzzing over his cheekbone. His eyes were shrunken and his posture thrown off kilter, and neither of you said anything as you watched in horror, waiting for the worst to come.
But stupid Enjin couldn't even bring himself to be upset anymore, for that slap of yours did nothing but make his heart burst and his skin tingle.
'Cause damn girl, you've got one hell of an arm.
And that tenacity, that fire, that unbridled, unapologetic determination - the kind that drives you to blindly smack the shit out of one of your best friend's face - is what got Enjin malfunctioning with the realization that you could do anything to him and he would bask in it.
The severity of this revelation crushed down on him without mercy. He lay awake that night with wide eyes and sprawled limbs, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth as his mind plagued with thoughts of you. In the silence of nightfall, nothing could buffer the fears that lay dormant within his core. Fears that you could have died. That the sight of your blood is a reminder of your mortality, and Enjin wasn't there that day to back you up, to push you out of the way, to keep you from crossing the line and fucking up your pretty leg.
He doesn't know who made you feel like you need to perform as an unfeeling soldier all the time. He doesn't know who shamed you in the past for needing basic human connections and support, berating you to the point where any gesture of kindness or concern sends you reeling with discomfort and shame. Enjin's talked to you about it. You've gotten better over the years, but the thought alone wrecks him during the times he can't outrun it.
Times like now, when his feelings for you swallow up his dignity in the worst way possible and actually start to make him unsure of what to say next, how to continue, how to keep the conversation between you alive.
"What is your deal, today?" you eye him in the middle of straightening up your sheets, watching as he stands before you with a sudden silence that catches you off guard.
"Well for one, you still won't answer my question," he manages to say coolly.
"Seriously?" you scoff. "I don't understand why you're so pressed about me answering a dumb question that you don't really want the real answer to."
Enjin's brow curls, eyes roaming over you as if to visually check your attitude toward the issue. What a weird thing to say. "Oy vey. Care to explain what that means?'
"Do I really need to?"
"I think so," he tucks his hands into the pockets of his baggy pants, red shirt hanging loosely over his tall frame, fluttering softly around the length of his inked arms, black and red swirls tracing the curve of skin. You side eye him as your hands busy themselves with folding your little blanket, your side profile to him. He steps closer, lingering by the foot of your bed. "You think I'd ask a question I don't care to hear the answer to?"
"You know what I mean, Enjin. You don't mean any of that stuff you say," you exhale.
You don't even have to further explain yourself, for Enjin receptively catches wind of what you're saying. His heart pangs, but his eyes close calmly. "If it bothers ya so much then you can tell me to stop."
"I tell you to stop all the time, jackass. You don't."
"Well, duh, because I know you don't actually want me to stop," he complains, eyes opening and darting to the sky with softly angled brows. "Otherwise, we wouldn't be so close."
"That doesn't even-" you toss your folded blanket atop your sheets, and stop yourself with another loud exhale. "The point is, Enjin, we're friends. The question is stupid. Doesn't even make sense."
"How is asking you if you'd ever kiss me stupid?"
Silence hangs in the air after the words leave his mouth, and against his best wishes, he feels the tips of his ears burn with the attention.
"Really? How is it stupid?" you prop a hand on your hip.
"I wonder if you think the idea of kissing me is stupid and not the actual question."
"Why does it matter?! We would never kiss, so who cares!"
He puckers his mouth as humor catches his golden eyes. "Never?"
"Shut the ever loving fuck up, Enjin. GOD almighty."
He can't help but chuckle, moving in toward you with a hand reaching out. "(Y/n), listen. Friends kiss all the time. I doubt y're actin' like this because you're not attracted to me."
"What if I'm not?" you bite back. "What if I think you're ugly?"
"Then, I'd have to offer myself up to a trash beast as a sacrifice, wouldn’t I?"
He stops directly beside you, and you look up at him with cynical eyes. "Better get to it, then."
Enjin groans. "You're the coldest woman I've ever met."
"Funny, a few minutes ago you were calling me sweet. So which is it?"
"Both. Your ass gives me whiplash all the time, girl. Quit playing around with me," his voice drops lightly. You take the time to still yourself as Enjin enters your personal bubble a few inches away from you. This is not anything new, for the two of you are rather invasive of one another's space on any given day. But you don't exactly know how to fare with the way he's looking at you now, like he does not know how to communicate all the reasons behind his ridiculous ass hypothetical questions. And Enjin thinks that he is officially losing his touch, for he realizes that he is going back and forth with you about the idea of a kiss. It is stupid, like you said, but once the thought formulated in his mind, he needed to know what you'd say.
It's partially because he enjoys your reaction, enjoys seeing the way you get all flustered and annoyed when his words hit your ears. It's also partially (well more so mainly) the fact that he has no other ideas on how to express that he needs you verbally. The two of you have been dancing around each other for years, and now that Enjin has finally reached his limit for all the tension that he can tolerate in your presence, he is truly struggling to find ways to break the barrier, to get closer, and to mask this genuine desire with something flimsy, fun, and unserious.
Because that is how you regard him. As unserious.
But when he thinks about it… maybe Enjin does not want to be unserious in your eyes anymore. He does not want you to look at him and see someone who is incapable of fulfilling your needs as a man. He does not want you to roll your eyes at any true prospect of the two of you being something more than friends, for you always do when Gris or Semiu approach you with smug skepticism regarding your relationship to Enjin.
The golden eyed man really thought he hated neediness, that he despised the notion of commitment and would never be ready for it, but he thinks now that he's only thought that way because he didn't know you. Now he does, and Enjin doesn't even bother to sleep with anyone else under the guise of not wanting to complicate things, when it is really just because he has no interest in doing so anymore. Not with anyone who isn't you.
He blinks those long, blonde lashes down at you as his smile returns, lighter this time. You can smell the faded air of ash that captures his scent, intertwined with something safe and comforting that you always associate with the image of your blonde friend. He tilts his head slightly as he looks down at you with a softness, a heaviness you don't like, and your head spins while you try to remain vigilant.
"Yes or no. That's all I'm askin'," he says gently, voice rumbling with warmth. You're all the more confused, for you don't understand why Enjin is so hellbent on getting an answer from you that he would surely hold over your head for as long as he possibly could.
His flirting means nothing. You know that. But it's hard to focus on that fact when he's looking at you all soft and mischievously, crowding your air, filling it with himself. When the vision of his bare chest is so close to you, as it peaks out from the loose drag of his shirt, swirls of tattoos curling over his bare collarbones and up his neck. Your heart hammers, and you resent yourself for it. Because this means nothing to him. It always has, so what is the point of mocking you with such a question?
You exhale, for the only way you're going to get out of this is by playing along.
"No," you say bluntly, and Enjin shortcircuits. "I'd never kiss you."
He mulls over your answer with a blank face. You wait expectantly, feigning indifference as you tap your foot. "...So you do think I'm ugly," he concludes.
You snort, laughing loudly in his face, and Enjin gets a taste of what you have been putting up with for as long as you can possibly remember. His shoulders slump and his expression falls flat.
"Just because I wouldn't kiss you doesn't mean I think you're ugly,” you chuckle.
"Well, what is it then? What's the reason?" he probes.
"You're not my type."
You smile innocently and Enjin gapes at you. Low blow.
You giggle softly, brushing your hand over his arm as you move around him to head toward your door. Once Enjin snaps out of it, he's on your heel. "Not your type? What the hell is your type? Friggin' bums?"
"If that were the case, I'd rethink kissing you."
"Oh ha ha," Enjin walks close behind you as you venture out into the hall and toward the kitchen. "You got jokes, missy."
"Yes, Enjin, because this is a stupid ass conversation."
"You ain't takin' me seriously," he states.
"'Course not. I know you're joking too."
"What if I'm not?"
You freeze, stopping dead in your tracks before turning slowly over your shouler. Enjin is already watching you with a neutral face, eyes unreadable. Your heart pangs. "What are you on about?" you eventually ask, slowly.
"Does that change your answer?" he asks, sincerely. "If I wasn't messin' around. If I was bein' for real for just a second. Would you still say no?"
Your brows draw together as your skin warms, and you hesitate, struggling to find the next words. "This is a trick, right? You're messing with me by saying you're not messing with me."
Enjin takes a moment to observe you and he notes your sudden stiffness, the staggering of your once smooth and steady speech, the widening of your eyes, and his manner eases slightly. You're just as anxious as he is.
He smiles. "I'm askin' a question. No tricks. No messin'."
You scrunch your face. "Why?"
"I can't ask my friend a question?"
"But why - why that of all things? Do you want me to kiss you, or what?"
He pretends to ponder it. "It wouldn't hurt," he shrugs. What he really means to say is that kissing you may be the final thing that makes his resolve snap and push him over the edge, tossing aside restraint to finally, finally get his hands on you.
But hell, Enjin's out of practice when it comes to you. You flip everything he thought he knew on its head.
You frown, turning fully to face him with both hands on your hips. "Seriously, Enjin," you exhale. "What's this about."
"You're reading way too into this, sweetheart. I'm just lookin' to iron out the possibilities in case we ever get to that point one day."
"In what world would we ever find ourselves in a situation where I'd kiss you?"
Enjin hums a nonverbal 'I don't know,' and your eye twitches. "Anyway. Thoughts?"
"I would never kiss you, Enjin. Joking or not."
"What if we're drunk?"
"That's different."
"You think?" he asks and you scoff.
"If I'm drunk and I kiss you, it's because I'm drunk. Not for any other reason. And it would only ever happen if I'm fucked up."
"It's a kiss either way. I'll take it."
"Enjin, be serious," you start.
"I am being serious."
You squint at him as if you want to believe him, but you just can't. "I'm gonna go make a sandwich," you shift the subject.
You go to continue walking, but Enjin's next words keep you grounded. "If it's not 'cause you think I'm hideous, then why don't you consider it?"
You throw your arms out to the side. "Because you're my friend? Because you flirt with everyone all the time? Because I know at the end of the day, you wouldn't actually kiss me, so it doesn't matter."
"I never said I wouldn't kiss ya. You just assumed that."
"I-" you flush, clamping your lips shut. Enjin regards you and a soft smirk graces his features, for he's never seen you so exasperated before. "I'm going... to eat." You try to go again. You try to end this before you act stupidly.
"What if I wanna kiss right now?"
Your neck cricks. "Enjin," you warn.
"What? What? Relax. C’mere, pretty thing," he grins deviously, moving into you with open arms as you catch him with a palm to his firm chest. He looks down at your hand pressing to his frame, then back up at you with a wider beam, dimples poking. "Just one kiss."
"Stop being such a freak. Go kiss one of your other girls or something," you screech as Enjin chuckles darkly, enjoying every bit of this.
"I don't have any girls, (Y/n). Just you."
You fume, lifting your other hand to slap at him. "Shut up-" his large hand clasps around your wrist mid air, catching you before you can inflict any further damage on his body and soul.
And while you are accustomed to fighting back, your body does not seem to react in such a way this time around. Instead, you go completely still, allowing Enjin's touch to sway you.
"All this beatin' on me and tellin' me to shut up," he tsks lowly. "You know I love it, but sometimes a man just wants a little reassurance. That's all."
Your eyes flicker over his face, bouncing between alluring golden hues and his lips, and you know he notices by the way his smile continues to spread. Hell, Enjin seems to notice everything about you these days.
"You get me?" he hums. "I'm not too good with words, but askin' for a little kiss should be enough to put me out there, yeah?"
You swallow hard, twitching when you feel the familiar thrum of his thick fingers reaching to brush your waist experimentally. Your hand has yet to leave his chest, and he's still clutching your wrist tight. The proximity between you has shrunken significantly, and you aren't sure why you've allowed this to happen.
Of course, you've noticed the tension bubbling between the two of you for as long as you've known one another. You feel it in his stare, in his passing touches, in the way he knows you so well.
But you've pushed it away time and time again out for fear of vulnerability, of rejection, of the hell that it is to admit that you've been in love with the idiot for god knows how long.
Still, he manages to stun you when you least expect it. He manages to unveil you, strip you down to the simplest, pathetic mess of sap and yearning for him when he dares to treat you like he could ever focus his attention into you as a potential partner.
And you've thought, for so long, that the notion was impossible, but here Enjin stands before you with softness and heat in his eyes that only he knows has been reserved for you and you only.
It makes your knees weak. And the very fact that he's fine as all fuck is not helping. It never does.
And part of you still isn't convinced that he isn't joking, until his hand releases your wrist and traces up the curve of you inner arm, to your palm, then swiping away to reach for the other side of your waist.
"Enjin, what are you trying to say...?" you question, watching him carefully with a knit between your brows. "...You actually want to...?"
"Don't worry. I won't make you do anything you don't wanna do," he murmurs, orbs dancing over your face. His fingers dip further into your sides, testing, inching you a little closer. He's more surprised that you aren't pulling away, and he edges closer and closer toward your limit, searching for if you even have one right now. "But... hell, if you wanna. I ain't gonna stop you."
You narrow your eyes, your other hand subconsciously pressing to his chest next to your other one. Enjin feels his skin burst where your hands settle over the thin fabric of his shirt. "Enjin, if you want to kiss me, you need to say it and maybe I'll think about giving one to you."
You know you've got him when you feel his hands tense against your middle, and you can not help the smile that breaks onto your face from the sheer joy of finally getting his ass to shut the fuck up.
All that talk, and the thought of actually putting his desires into words forces a lump into his throat.
You tilt your head, mimicking the way he so often does, with the drag of your finger teasingly under his chin. Enjin gulps, grip slacking on your waist subconsciously. "Cat got your tongue now, mouthy?"
He opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. You smile, patting his cheek softly before pushing lightly against him.
"That's what I thought. Now let me go so I can-"
You're cut off when you feel warm fingers clasp around your chin as you turn your head, bringing your face forward to face him. Your words die in your throat when the fan of Enjin's breath wafts against your skin, for that is how close he's got you to his face. Auburn hues capture your (e/c) ones with intensity, and for the first time in your life, you see no trace of amusement on his features.
Your eyes shoot wide, your mouth runs dry, your heart damn near stops. And Enjin sighs.
"All I gotta do is say it, then, right?"
You blink. "Wh-"
"Then you'll give me a kiss?" you don't answer, and he frowns, hand sliding over your cheek, thumb slipping over your hairline. "Huh? C'mon, help me out. That a yes?"
You gulp. "You won't do it," you test.
"No?" he dips in further, nose brushing yours. You suck in a sharp breath, pressing closer to his chest, allowing his inked arms to snake all the way around you.
Your lashes flutter with an exhale. "You still haven't."
"I don't have to tell ya somethin' you already know."
The air grows thick around you as his forehead bumps against yours, weighted eyes following the curve of your soft lips, flickering back to your pretty (e/c) eyes every now and then. His body is firm against yours, his mass towering over you, shadowing you, pulling you in like some mystical force.
And you almost let him get to you, as the drag of his fingers along the curve of your spine sends chills running down your back. His lips carefully, slowly chase yours, seeking them out like they are meant to be connected, and your skin jolts with an electricity you can't name when you feel the bow of his lips graze yours.
A gentle hum rumbles through Enjin's chest, against your hands. You almost forget where you are and let him take you, as the hover of his warmth brings you enticingly into him. Your mind is fuzzy, your nerves alive.
He's almost got you. He's centimeters away from having you.
But then, you snap out of it. Because you realize that, despite what you now see as something blatantly mutual, he still has not grown the balls to actually tell you what he wants.
And if Enjin thinks he has feelings for you, you're not going to reward him for skittering around your demands.
So you lean your head back and slide your palm against your mouth, blocking Enjin's lips from yours as they meet the back of your hand. He pulls back, blinking hard as he adjusts to the sudden barrier between you. He looks down, then incredulously up at you with angled brows.
You giggle, moving to hold either side of the man's head. "If you really want to kiss me, It’s not gonna be that easy. Talk to me when you learn how to use your words."
You lean up on your toes to press a chaste to the center of his forehead, where you flicker him earlier. Enjin's tan skin pinches with heat as he watches you lean back, baffled, his hold on you going slack so that you may step out of his arms.
"Now I'm going to go eat, and until you can lock in, don't ask me any more stupid ass questions."
With that, you turn on your heel and hum a tune as you strut down the hallway, leaving Enjin, once more, to pale in the humility of your absence.
His skin is still tingling where you kissed and touched him.
He growls to himself when he manages to recover, sliding a hand over his hair as he looks to the ceiling as if it could grant him the strength to deal with you.
Because now that he knows that you know how he feels, in true fashion, you're going to make him work hard to be better, to give you the honesty and transparency and dedication you deserve if he's really serious about it.
And with a smirk, and the swipe of his hand down his face, his chest broadens with the excitement of you putting him in his place. Again.
every single time you bend down in front of him he smacks your ass like it’s a reflex. like a doctor hitting your knee with that little hammer. he genuinely doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore.
when you take off your shirt he hollers, “BOOBIES!” loud enough for half of the cleaner hq to hear. rudo once dropped a wrench because of it.
he got a pic of you in his pocket where you sleep with your mouth wide open, double chin included. he proudly shows it EVERYONE.
calls you baby in increasingly stupid variations. sugarbaby. babycakes. babygirl. babybel cheese. babesaurus rex.
absolutely the type to fake dramatic injuries for attention. “aughhh… my heart…” — “what happened?” — “you looked too pretty.”
if you ignore him for more than ten minutes he starts escalating. first it’s whining. then poking. then laying on top of you like a weighted blanket. “hello? hello? customer service? my girlfriend stopped loving me.”
he cannot flirt normally. ever. he points at you and goes, “that one’s mine btw,” like he found a cool rock.
one time he tried to kiss you smoothly and accidentally headbutted you hard enough to make both of you see stars.
obsessed with making you laugh. if you laugh so hard you snort, he acts like he just won the lottery.
if you’re cooking he WILL appear behind you and steal food straight from the pan while acting offended when you hit his hand away. “wow. abuse. in my own home.”
absolutely the kind of boyfriend who starts fake beef with inanimate objects for hurting you.“this table got one more time to hit my girl before i square up.”
loves putting his cold hands on your skin just to hear you shriek.
kisses you mid-sentence. not romantically either. fully to shut you up because he thinks it’s funny.
every time you wear something slightly revealing he malfunctions, in a “walking into walls because he’s staring” way.
would 100% yell “THAT’S MY WIFE!” over the smallest accomplishments. you parallel parked successfully? THAT’S MY WIFE!!!!
he treats your bra like a deadly ancient artifact whenever you ask him to unclasp it. “okay wait. hold on. i almost got it. why’s this built like a fucking escape room?”
once tried to carry you bridal style to be romantic. immediately dropped you both onto the couch because he tripped over absolutely nothing. another time he knocked you out on the doorframe.
if you’re shorter than him he rests his chin on your head constantly. if you’re taller than him he still tries. the posture is horrendous.
shamelessly fishes for compliments. “babe do i look sexy today?” — “you’re wearing one sock and my shirt?” — “answer the question.”
he sees you naked and suddenly turns into the loudest man alive. “WOOOOOOO!!!!” then rips his shirt off like in the werewolf meme.
genuinely thinks couple arguments can be solved with snacks and cuddles. “okay but what if we held hands and got noodles instead?”
Enjin was obsessed with the sound of your voice. The sweet melody you emitted when you spoke drove him wild. You could even tell him you wished him dead, and his heart would pound like crazy just from hearing it coming from you.
He was obsessed with seeing you wear his uniform jacket, or when you couldn't find your clothes in the morning and opted for his shirt that left nothing to the imagination. He would simply bite his lip and imagine the most insane things with you in them.
"Enjin," you would say, and he would look at you with eyes full of lust, a gleam that not even his Jinki could produce.
"Yes, baby?" he would reply, his hand encircling your waist and pulling you dangerously close with that smile that drove you crazy.
His other hand would move to your face, gently caressing your cheek, his thumb would brush your lips as you spoke, and his eyes would never leave yours. He was simply obsessed.
Read your Enjin x plus size/chubby reader headcanons and it had me like this while reading it
I need more pls🙏 thank you sm for blessing us
A/n- Oh my god for some reason I couldn' figure out what to write for the life of me and I had to consult my friend to get a few ideas and here's one of them, I might post the others later. Thank you so much for liking what I'm putting out <3
Not proof read
Implied NSFW at the end
600+ words
Enjin x Plus Size Reader
Suprise tattoo?
okay think about this
you wanted something new, something cute
something little, a tattoo along your bikini line
nothing too big, maybe a winding pattern of vines or a cluster of little stars
what's the point of having a body if you cannot customize it even just a little bit?
you didn't think anything of it, maybe even got it so long ago you forgot
like it was meant to be there, just always a part of you
and then you got with enjin a few months later
honestly you forgot you had it, it just seemed to be a part of you and you never paid it any mind
he notices it for the first time, not anything intimate happening
the room you were in was hot, the type of heat that sticks to your skin, and the air conditioning inside of it had been cut off
the sweats you had on weren't cutting it, so you took them off without putting too much thought into it
the only rational thing to do on a hot day is lounge around
just attempting to exist in the moment rather than to melt away into the heat
He's on his side, propped up with one elbow while you're on your back next to him
you're not paying him any mind, any sort of physical contact too warm, skin sticking to skin being something you'd rather not deal with in the moment
you're looking over some pamphlet you found on the nightstand next to the bed
the sort of thing that gets handed to you on the street while you're walking
enjin is preoccupying himself with dragging a finger along your skin, tracing lazy patters on your torso, your stomach, the dip down to your hip
just existing, just mapping you out
his finger catches on the elastic band of your underwear
he pauses
a confused expression on his face, like he's trying to make out the pattern peeking out from the cloth
"what's this?"
you halt, thumb catching the page of the paper
you blink, look down
"oh, that. forgot that was there honestly."
"… you forgot?"
"yeah."
"huh."
he's quiet, almost too quiet for a few moments
"babe"
"yeah?"
"did you really get a tattoo pointing at your-"
"i'd say its more hip technically speaking."
he lets out a noise, something of a laugh and a groan
a few moments pass, his hand reaching out and gripping the flesh for a moment his thumb rubbing over it for a moment.
"it's cute, real fucking cute."
you give him a look, raise an eyebrow before chuckling to yourself
there's a comfortable silence
but of course it doesn't last long, before you're pulled from your reading with a warm body pressing on top of you
its warm
too warm for right now
throwing the pamphlet to the side you squirm, glaring down at the blonde man laying between your legs
skin sticking to skin, his own tattooed arms clinging to the skin of your thighs and stomach peeking from under your shirt
"get my name."
"absolutely not."
"get my initial."
"no."
you try shuffling away on your back, but without success, only managing to pull the contour sheet with you, enjin still planted on top of you
the most you can manage is hitting him across the head with a nearby pillow
but if you did?
not exactly his name but something black and red in that familiar swirl
you wouldn't tell him
instead let him find it himself the next time his mouth trails down your skin
he'd pause, lifting his head, his hair slicked back
"… is that new?"
you try to suppress a slight smile
"surprise?"
he thinks for a few more minutes, before smiling to himself with those damn dimples and looking back up at you
summary - enjin is late for date night. he makes it up you.
cw - cunnilingus , vaginal fingering , enjin generally being a freak , thigh trapping , slight breathe play (enjin receiving)
enjin was loyal. undeniably so. when he tells you he'll do something, he means it, even if it takes dragging his ass to get there. he's good about making time for you and only you despite his erratic and at times, dangerous job. that all being said, he was late for date night. by now, you would have gotten word about his position, but.. nothing. when you ask semiu about the job he left for that morning, she too had no updates from the Cleaners team Akuta. it had you worried sick. had the team been downed? did they lose their transportation back to HQ? had your nightmare become reality?
"hey, babe." you lift yourself off the bed, staring at the man you call your boyfriend. at this rate, called. "what the hell?" you exclaim. you jump up to run to enjin. he opens his arms for a hug but is instead met with a slap across the face. "damn, girl! what's got you peeved?" he rubs his cheek. "where have you been? did something happen? why didn't you update semiu?" you demand. he looks away, quirking a brow. "the mission didn't go completely as planned. let's just say that the team got cooked in a battle we weren't prepared for." he sighed. "i'm still alive, though." he patted his stomach where bandages you hadn't noticed wrapped around his abdomen. "oh, enjin.." your anger fizzled out. you can't be mad at an injured man.
you take his hand and lead him to sit on the bed. "don't give me that look." he holds your waist as you stand between his legs. "i know i'm late, but that doesn't mean date night is over. let's have dinner together now. i made sure to tell rudo that if he ate that cake, he'd be made zanka's training dummy." he chuckled to himself. "that's not it." you shake your head. "you should rest tonight. our medical team knows their stuff, but that doesn't make you invincible." you put a hand on his head, rubbing the messy blonde locs. enjin's flirtatious expression melted. "you worried about me, bae?" he mused. "damn it." you growl, hitting him over the head with your fist. "what do you think? you're my boyfriend." the man tilted his head. "nah," he rubs the back of his neck. "can't sleep until i know your happy. besides, i've been looking forward to some alone time with you all day. don't starve a hurt man." he laid his head against your stomach with a pout. you feel your face warm from his caring words. he's smirking again. "you gonna let me?" he asks. you sigh. it wasn't worth pretending that you were going to deny him. "obviously." you mutter. with that, he's throwing your legs over his shoulders.
"you don't gotta worry about a thing. lemme make it all up to you." his large hands squeeze your thighs. "gorgeous." he murmurs, making you tilt your head away, not wanting him to see the flustered expression he has seen countless times before. "don't get shy on me. you're always so vocal when i'm down here." enjin chuckled. he lets out a pained groan when you knee him in the side. "i'm sorry- just. don't play with me right now." you tell him. "right. sorry. i shouldn't piss my woman off." he grins. his fingers roam across your plush thighs before looping under your small shorts, gingerly pulling your panties along with them. "man," he sighed. "you put on the pretty ones. got me pissing myself off, now. should have kicked better ass." he pouted. "i'm still wearing them, you know." you reply gently. he kisses the inside of your thighs. "yeah, you are." he groaned. "still like em' better off, though."
you gasp, feeling him blow cold air against your exposed pussy. enjin bites his lip, staring hungrily at your cunt as he spreads it open with two fingers. "rather be dead than miss out on this." he says. "if you died, you'd never see it again." your grab his head, tugging at the roots. he grunts. "you right. as always." he ducks back between your legs. "just.. fuck. you're beautiful." he closes his eyes, then dives into your cunt, making you jump. his tongue rolls over your clit, teasing you with intense concentration on it before his tongue roams away again. "en," you moan. he groans, making your thighs shake from the vibration. he gropes at your, grabbing your ass, your thighs, your belly that he always pleads to fall asleep on.
looking down, you can see enjin grinding against the mattress. getting off on the taste of you alone. his eyes meet yours. you want to look away, too embarrassed. he grips your arm, grasping your attention. "look." he tells you, demands you. you whimper in response. his tongue prods at your entrance, making your back arch up. you feel his tongue inside you, darting in and out, but it isn't enough. "en," you huff. "need more." his gaze has nothing more fondness. "my pretty baby needs my fingers?" he hums. you nod with a little pout on your lips. "anything for my lady."
while one of his hands reached up to caress your supple breasts, the other dips between your thighs. he coats one of his long fingers in your slick before slipping it inside. his mouth never stopped, keeping his lips on your clit to suck at it. you squirm, unable to stifle the noises falling from your lips like a waterfall. your legs lock around enjin's head, pulling him in until he hardly has room to breathe. he gives no protest, even pushing his face further into your pussy. another finger slides into you, curling against that sweet spot he has long since memorized, forcing more cries out of you. "en!" you cry out. "gonna.. gotta cum." he moans at this. his hands grab your thighs, keeping them snug around his head. you should be worried about him passing out, but the building pleasure in your core is all you can think about.
enjin's fingers are unrelenting. neither is his tongue on your cunt. his hair gets pulled tight as your eyes blur, your body rigid with the force of your orgasm. you let out a trembling breath. enjin's emerges only when you let your legs fall. he pants, cheeks red from the lack of oxogen. "i'm sorry." you say, brows furrowed with worry. "don't say that. ever." he pushed his hair away from his face. he looks down at you with half lidded eyes. you watch as he puts the fingers that were previously inside you into his mouth. "don't do that!" you exclaim. he laughs, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "i got my shit rocked. can't ya' let me have a little treat?"
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