꒰ enjin takes what’s rightfully his —you ꒱ྀི
you should’ve never touched his jinki. you were just curious. that sleek, strange umbrella enjin always carried like a badge of honor. it was his and his alone. everyone said it. don’t touch the umbreaker. don’t even look like you’re thinking about it. but there you were, sitting on a bench in the training bay, fingers wrapped around the handle, trying to feel what made it hum like it was alive. and suddenly, you weren’t alone.
you felt him before you saw him. his presence was heavy, magnetic, terrifyingly calm. you looked up, and he was standing there. or more he was towering. golden eyes half-lidded and dark, his coat thrown over one shoulder like he hadn’t even broken a sweat catching you red-handed. he didn’t say anything. he stepped forward until your knees were touching his legs, reached down and took the jinki from your grasp.
that’s when his fingers brushed yours. that’s when he smiled. “you really wanna know what it feels like?”
you didn’t answer, because your mouth was already full. enjin had dropped to his knees in front of you, spread your thighs apart like he owned them and pulled your panties to the side like they were nothing more than packing scraps. his tongue didn’t tease. it devoured. flat and slow at first. one long, filthy drag that made your toes curl. then faster, more focused, his tongue circling your clit like it was the only thing in the world worth worshipping. you whimpered, hips lifting off the bench, but his big hands were already pinning you down by the thighs.
“stay still,” he murmured against your dripping cunt. “you’re not gonna run from this. not after touching what’s mine.”
your hands gripped his shoulders desperately. but enjin was in no rush. he moaned into you like you were a meal he’d been starved for, licking and sucking, his tongue sending shocks of pleasure straight up your spine.
“tastes better than i imagined,” he growled. “and trust me, i imagined it a lot.”
you were too far gone to be shocked. your thighs shook. your back arched. you cried out as the first orgasm slammed through you and enjin didn’t stop. if anything, he grinned.
he carried you like a ragdoll. lifted you into his arms, slammed your back against the nearest wall in the training bay and kissed you with the mess of your own juices still wet on his lips.
“you gonna listen this time?” he asked, his breath ragged. “or do i have to teach you again?”
you barely got out a nod before he was unbuckling his belt with one hand, the other pinning your wrists above your head. and then you saw his cock. thick and so heavy with, veined. so damn hard it looked angry, flushed at the tip and already leaking. you couldn’t even pretend you were ready for it. he noticed the way your breath caught. he felt it.
“scared?” he whispered. you nodded again. “good. you should be.”
then he dragged the tip along your soaked folds. teasing you and stretching you without even pushing in. you squirmed, whined, tried to pull your wrists free, but enjin just chuckled.
“oh no. you started this. you wanted to know what it felt like, remember?”
then he slammed in. your scream echoed through the bay. he didn’t give you time to adjust. his pace was brutal from the start, every thrust a punishing stroke that drove the air from your lungs. your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, but you couldn’t do anything to ground yourself. he had all the power, and he used it. used you.
“look at you,” he growled, biting down on your shoulder. “you’re takin’ it so fuckin’ well. you were made for this.”
he pulled back and snapped his hips again, harder, deeper, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing louder with each thrust. you cried out, head lolling back, drool slipping from your lips as your body gave out entirely.
“that’s it,” he rasped. “let me break you in.”
somewhere between the second and third orgasm, you stopped remembering your own name. all you knew was him. his hands. his voice. his unforgiving cock that hit your g-spot every time, like he wanted you to go dumb. he fucked you through every wave until you sobbed and begged and clawed at his arms like it would do something.
“too much, enjin—please—!”
“you can take it,” he said, pressing your forehead to his. “you will take it.”
he pulled out to flip you over. he bent you over the same bench where you’d touched his jinki, your face pressed to the wood, your ass up, your legs trembling. then he slid back in so deep you felt him in your stomach and dragged his teeth down your spine to claim every inch.
“see?” he murmured. “this is what happens when you touch what’s mine. i take what’s mine too.”
his hand gripped your hair, the other pressed between your thighs, rubbing your clit with brutal precision. you came harder, faster. a scream ripped from your throat so wrecked it hurt your throat. but he didn’t stop.
you didn’t realize you were crying until he kissed the tears off your cheeks. his thrusts were slower now. each one a slow grind that hit your most sensitive spots until your whole body trembled. his arms wrapped around you, his chest flush to your back.
“that’s my girl. you took it all. good fuckin’ girl.” he whispered lovingly.
you whimpered again, boneless in his hold. then you felt his rhythm falter and you knew he was close.
“i’m gonna fill you up,” he groaned into your ear. “gonna leave you leaking for days, baby. everyone’ll know who fucked you like this.”
you tried to respond, but you only gave him weak moans and mewls and a final sob as he came with a snarl, grinding his hips down so deep it felt like he was pouring every ounce of himself inside you.
you collapsed and he caught you.
you didn’t remember how you ended up wrapped in his coat on the floor, your body still twitching, his hand stroking your thigh like you weren’t absolutely wrecked.
you blinked at him. glowing with the post orgasm glow. he grinned down at you like you were the prettiest mess he’d ever made.
“next time,” he said, brushing his knuckles over your jaw, “ask first.” then he leaned in and whispered, sweet and sinful, “or don’t. i kinda like chasing you down.”
