cw: dom!reader, sub male characters, praise kink, physical control, service sub behavior, marking, semi-public risk, restraint, manhandling, sex with clothes on, overstimulation, kneeling, slow teasing, edging,
✦˖ sub enjin
enjin, despite his calm personality and that untouchable leader facade, is the kind who turns quiet, obedient, devoted in bed. he doesn’t beg with words, but his body does it for him.
he loves being controlled by your voice. a single “look at me” and he’s obeying, eyes locked on yours even while you’re on top of him and he’s biting his tongue to keep from moaning too soon.
it turns him on when you grab him by the back of his neck or his wrists, pinning him against the wall or down on the bed, feeling like all that trained strength is useless against you.
marking him is another weakness. hickeys on his neck, bites on his chest, nails down his back. enjin pretends to be annoyed afterwards, but you know every mark he hides under his clothes only makes him hotter.
face-to-face sex ruins him. watching you ride him, hearing you tell him how good he’s being, calling him a “good boy” when he obeys without thinking… it makes him come fast, even with the bare minimum contact.
in private, he can be completely yours, but what destroys him the most is the risk. your hand on his thigh under the table, your breath in his ear in an empty hallway, and he’s already imagining what you’d do if no one else was around.
✦˖ sub follo tunito
follo is pure enthusiasm and devotion. you can tell he wants to please you even outside the bedroom, so when it comes to sex, submission comes naturally to him.
he melts if you call him a “pretty boy” while touching him. literally blushes, his voice drops to a whisper, and he leans in closer, like he can’t get enough of you.
he’s a constant touch seeker — tugging at your sleeve, leaning against your leg, following you around the room. if you order him to kneel and stay still, he’ll obey… but his legs will tremble the whole time.
when he’s between your thighs, he moans and looks up at you with glassy eyes, swallowing every order you give. tell him “don’t come” and he’ll try so hard to hold it… until he can’t anymore and starts begging.
overstimulation is your weapon with him. after he comes, just a few more strokes and he’s whining, tears pricking his eyes, thanking you for not stopping.
sex with clothes still on drives him insane — your hand under his shirt, your hips grinding into his while his pants are still on. the friction alone can have him coming in minutes, head buried against you.
✦˖ sub gris rubion
gris is a proud sub — not because he doesn’t want to give in, but because he needs to be certain you’re someone he can trust completely. once you earn that, he’ll give himself to you without holding back.
he loves controlled restraint. pinning his wrists above his head, holding his jaw so he has to look at you, pressing him against a wall — it makes his breath hitch every time.
he can keep his composure for a while, staying silent while you touch him, but eventually his body betrays him — hips moving on their own, eyes half-lidded, jaw slack.
edging destroys him in the best way. you can keep him at the brink over and over, and when you finally let him come, he clings to you like he’s afraid you’ll let go too soon.
whispering calmly in his ear while you fuck him is a sure way to break him. slow, deep thrusts and a low “you’re mine” will have him trembling, even before he’s close.
he won’t ask for aftercare, but he’ll stay close after, brushing his fingers over you like he’s grounding himself — still basking in the safe space you gave him while you broke him apart.
You got drunk as hell after a small celebration for a successful mission with your team.
Enjin:
You knocked at his door in a rhythm– letting him know it was you. He opens it and you came pouncing on his arms.
"ENJIIIN! I MISSED YOU!"
And before he can greet you back or ask how your mission was– you already had both your palms on his cheek and started peppering kisses on his face. He stumbled back when you had jumped on him and closed the door behind you. His tattooed hands resting on your back– tracing down until he let it rest on your waist, subtly pulling you closer.
You started at random, wherever you felt like– then you went back to kissing his forehead, then temple, then his eyelids and the tip of his nose. His brows furrowed a little when you parted– ready to complain but you immediately shut him up by kissing him deeply. It was just his lips on yours at first, then you bite his bottom lip– hard enough to sting- to elicit a moan out of him. You pinched his cheek to keep his mouth open while your tongue tangles around with his.
A thin line of saliva connected your lips. His eyes hazy, his grip and even his pants tighter– then your head falls on his shoulder, falling asleep immediately.
"What the hell? Hey, wake up! You can't leave me blue-balled like that!" but it was no use, you were deep asleep.
Tamsy:
You came knocking at his room instead of going to yours. When he opened the door– the scent of booze hit him.
"Oh dear, did you excessively drink again?" He sounded disappointed.
"yeah.. Got swept with the team's energy."
You drew closer to Tamsy, wrapping him in your extra warm embrace. He's not mad that you got drunk, or stink of booze and smoke– he's irked at the different scents that got rubbed on you. Clearly, someone was being too close with you in that party.
He sat you down on his bed and straddled your lap. He leans his head towards you– his silky blonde hair falls on his face, almost like a veil. Your hand cups his cheek and he leans to your touch. Your fingers rubbing his ear and it inches on the back of his head, now playing with his navy blue hair.
"what's got you so lost in thought, darling?" he asks, your foreheads leaning against each other.
"you're so beautiful, Tamsy.." you whisper. "right now– you look like a bride. My bride."
Tamsy felt his face flush. How eager of you, he thinks to himself. He feels your fingers rub his scalp then slightly pull on it— a shiver runs down his spine.
"Then— shouldn't this bride of yours be kissed? To finally seal the deal?"
Finally, you close the gap between your lips. His lips moving in sync with yours as he eventually wrapped his arms around your neck– slowly grinding his hips against yours. He lets out breathy moans in between kisses, then you stop.
You slightly pull away to get a view of his face– flushed and glowing. Absolutely ethereal. Then you began leaving kisses all over his face. The scar on his cheek up to the corner of his eye then a kiss on his temple. Then a final kiss on the piercing under his lip.
"you're done now?"
You sleepily nod, he helped you take your uniform off and changed it into a comfortable shirt you left (he stole) in his room.
"You're officially my wife, right?" you ask, wrapping your arms around him while he pull the blanket on both of you.
"yes I am, go to sleep now.." he kissed your forehead goodnight.
Zanka :
Zanka felt his choker ring, "Hello?"
"hi uhh.. (y/n) drank their mind off and is already sleeping here. Would you mind taking them home? We're at the bar."
"sure I'll be on my way." Zanka immediately bolts to where the bar is, he knows you're clingy when you're drunk so he's worried that you might cling on somebody that isn't him.
When he arrived at the bar– you were already waiting outside with a friend on your side. Said friend saw Zanka and went back inside not after bidding you well.
"ZANKA BABYY YOU'RE HERE–"
"PIPE IT DOWN YOU IDIOT"
He has his hand covering your mouth– you placed your ever his and started kissing his palms. Zanka's ears turned red and yanked his hands away from your mouth. You pout.
"Didn't you miss me too, Zanka?"
You've been gone for a week. Of course he missed you!
He saw tears welling up your eyes– threatening to fall. He really should take you back home.
"'course I did, you big dummy."
You held his face in place and kissed him on his lips. Zanka's eyes shot wide open– immediately pulling away from you and turning his head side to side to check if anyone saw. Luckily, there were only a few people out and were just minding their own business. He looks back at you– tears already streaming down your face.
"hic– you don't love me anymore don't you?! hic–"
That made a few people turn their heads toward you. Zanka sighs, all embarrassed. He needs to calm you down before taking you back to his room. He doesn't want Enjin, Riyo, and especially Rudo teasing him about this in the morning.
And so, he pulls you along deep in an alleyway– away from prying eyes and wrapped his arms around your neck. You were still upset and hiccuping from earlier, now leaning against a hard brick wall. Then Zanka placed his lips against yours— first a peck then he pushed deeper. You've calmed down and followed along his flow– letting him take the lead. His kisses are feverish, like a man stranded in a dessert– he seeks your lips like water. You love his kisses so much, he puts so much emotion in it when you do and he lasts so long. He parts away with a string of saliva hanging on your lips which he licks away. While he was catching his breath, you littered kisses all over his face.
"I love you so much, Zanka~"
"yeah, yeah I know ya big oaf."
"come onnn! Say it back!"
"I'll say it back and give you more if you go along with me quietly!"
Keji you gotta understand how bad I wanna degrade and deprive Enjin. I wanna put a cock cage on him, hands tied above him as i berate his small dick while fvcking him with a vibrating dildo even after he's a dumb, sobbing mess not allowed to come until he says a real sorry
note… it’s never crazy… sometimes i forget i can write about anything ;)
With a flushed expression, Enjin’s golden eyes peered behind his lashes, panting heavily as the dark spot on his boxers grew in size. You hadn’t missed the broken moans he fed into your mouth from kissing just moments before, and clearly grinding down against his crotch a few times was too much for him to handle.
“Enjin… that was quick…” you chastised, shaking your head.
“Y’knew what you were doing, and I couldn’t help myself,” he smirked, unapologetically.
“But I never said you could cum.”
Oh. You weren’t joking about that. He only realized that now.
You reached over him, pulling out a box from the drawer from the bedside table. “Maybe it’s time to teach you a lesson? Always letting that smart mouth of yours run wild.”
“...Hah?” His eyes followed your hands as you opened the box, a clear chastity cage with a black ring. Enjin lifted himself up when he realized exactly what it was. “That’s… going on me?”
Where you got it from, he didn’t know. But he couldn’t deny the temptation he felt when he realized you were serious.
“Yes.” Through his soiled boxers, you grabbed his half hard cock and squeezed, drawing a low groan from the blond as he fell back on the bed, his tattooed torso tensing. “It should fit, considering how small your dick is…”
An embarrassed blush erupted on his cheeks once more, and his dick strained against your grip. Your fingers hooked the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down until his mess of a dick revealed itself. His blond pubes were coated with cum, and you wondered how such a small cock could still produce this much.
Since he was already hard, you knew it’d be a bit difficult, but you had no issues stuffing his hard-on into the cage if this was his punishment for neglecting your rules. After all, you were excited to see how pretty he looked, as a sheen layer of sweat glistened on his skin, letting his intricate tattoos shine in the dim lighting of the bedroom.
Golden irises watched your every move intently, your hands smearing his cum around his balls briefly before pushing them through the black ring, Enjin desperately trying not to moan by biting his lips. Somehow, getting punished by you never felt like a bad thing…
But you knew he was into how commanding you were, his member already leaking as you shoved it inside the clear cage before locking it with a key. His lips were swollen from making out, and it wasn’t helping that he was biting down so hard he might draw blood. You climbed up across his body and leaned into a kiss, and he accepted you behind his lips with no hesitation.
The kiss was sloppy—which was nothing new—your tongue exploring every corner of his mouth as he followed you up into a sitting position, the cage around his dick letting its presence be known. He groaned in disappointment when you broke away, a string of saliva breaking between the two of you.
You shook the cage gently, relishing in the quiet nngh’s he made when he winced. “Does it hurt?”
He shook his head.
“Good.”
But you weren’t done there. “If you come before I tell you to, expect this to never end.”
It wasn’t long before his wrists were tied with a dark red ribbon, hands above his head, and Enjin now pushed up against the headboard with his dick caged and puckering ass on full display just for you. Golden locks of hair were stuck to his forehead, looking at you with desperate eyes as you lubed up the dildo that was triple the size of his cock.
“Don’t you wish your dick was this big, pretty? Or would you rather be filled with one instead?”
He scoffed, but you didn’t give him enough time to answer, giving him another sweet kiss right before you teased his entrance with the dildo, slowly pushing the massive thing to split open his wanting hole, despite being unprepped as he was.
“A-aah~!” Breaking the kiss first, his head fell back and his hands struggled against the binds, but you held him place.
“Ah, ah, ah. Break the restraints and you’ll regret it.”
He locked eyes with you again, your free hand caressing his cheek as you leisurely pumped the dildo in and out, and the poor blond couldn’t keep his mouth shut.
“Hah.. fuck, [name], you’re so…nngh...” Enjin whimpered.
“So what, Enjin?”
Heat gathered at your core from the sight of him so desperate for more—he could be so obedient when he wanted. You kept your pace agonizingly slow, Enjin’s body twitching at every drag of the dildo against his slick insides, back arching each time the dildo threatened to leave him empty.
“I hope you’re ready to apologize now, for cumming so early,” you said slyly. “Maybe I’ll let you come if you do.”
His wracked expression changed to something that resembled hopefulness, but he nearly lost his train of thought with every stroke. “[N-name], I–mmngh~!”
The sudden vibrations made him jolt, the quiet hum the dildo shadowed by the loud squelching of his ass sucking back in the dildo. His cherry red tip leaked against the cage, dribbling down onto the dildo you pumped without mercy, golden eyes rolling back.
“What was that? Can’t you apologize for your sorry excuse of a dick cumming before you’re told?”
“Mmgh.. ahh–shit, [n-name], ‘m sorrryyyy–!”
Enjin couldn’t bare to have your soft hand caressing his cheek while you fucked him relentlessly with a vibrating dildo, looking at him so lovingly. He was adorable like this, attempting to piece together a coherent sentence as tears welled up in his eyes, desperate and aching for a release. The cage twitched above his hole, his dick pulsing with the need to come.
“Again–it won’t–happen–hahhhh–again–I–!” He was really trying. Maybe you should give it to him?
“Hmm? One more time for me, pretty.” Your words were so sweet, but your actions were so, so depraved.
“‘m sorry–!” He yelped, head falling forward, toes curling.
“You can do better than that, can’t you, Enjin?”
He nodded desperately, eyelashes heavy and wet with tears, but he could barely focus. No cumming, but the heat at his core was ready to combust. Like a mantra, he repeated to himself, “no, no, no,” and every time he tried to apologize all that came out were broken moans. If you’d just let up on your ministrations juuust a bit, maybe, just maybe he could come out and say what you wanted to hear.
“I have alllll day, pretty boy. You and your small weeping cock are all mine.” But if you keep going, he might just come and he won’t be sorry at all.
Note: This is the first fanfic I've published, Let me know what I need to improve on.
content/trigger warning(s): sexual tension(?). gender-neutral reader. cigarettes. Overall fluff.
You reveled in the way he looked at you, on missions with his brows furrowed, hand intertwined with yours. If you caught him staring, you'd always smile back at him, even on days he felt terrible. If he could kiss you every time you looked at him, he would. Well, he does try, but a lot of the time, it's around other cleaners, and he usually gets pretty hot if you indulge him.
But if you leaned in first? He's never the one to pull away.
And in those special moments, kissing him and slowly pushing your tongue into his mouth, it's like licking an unwashed ashtray. Always smelling and tasting like smoke, and in a way, you liked it. It's so intoxicating, coming from him. He doesn't do much better. Your presence alone is more addictive than any cigarette he's ever smoked, even on his roughest days. He can't help but hum (moan) into your mouth with a smile, cupping your face.
"You're so easy to please." You say, pulling away from his lips and placing your hand on his warm tattooed wrist.
He let out a raspy laugh. "That's how ya know I'm future proof, right?" He smirked against your swollen lips.
You smiled, closing your eyes, "I've always known."
...
If you smoke too (or want to), he'd always offer you the one he's currently on; he doesn't mind if you get your own, but he does get a little disappointed.
"If you wanted a kiss you could have just said it." You take the cigarette and inhale deeply, closing your eyes.
"Cmon.. man, I was tryin' to be subtle." he saw you turn to him and smirk, gently grabbing his jaw and leading it toward your mouth. Lips locking around his, you exhale, letting all the smoke previously in your mouth and lungs transfer to his.
...You pulled away slowly, taking the cigarette between your fingers and putting it back in his mouth.
Cw: NSFW, grinding (over clothes), soft dom reader, fingering, body worship, praise/desperation kink vibes, more build up I'm so sorry I love torturing myself with slow burns
Then you move.
Not your hips.
Your hand.
You drag it—slow and smooth—up your own stomach. Let your fingers curl beneath the hem of your shirt. Let it rise—inch by inch—until the bare underside of your chest is exposed.
And Enjin feels it.
His hand tenses against your back, thumb twitching once.
You don’t stop.
You lift your shirt just a little higher and cup your own tit in one hand—lazy. Casual. Like you’ve done it before, like it’s a comfort more than a tease.
And then you squeeze.
Softly.
Your breath shivers out of you in a little sigh as you roll your nipple between your fingers, slow and indulgent.
You’re not performing.
You’re enjoying yourself.
And Enjin?
His mouth falls open.
Just slightly.
A sound escapes him— hoarse, wrecked.
His eyes are locked to the movement under your shirt. The shape of your hand playing with your own breast. The way your arm flexes slightly with each roll. The way your body responds to your own touch.
He groans.
“Holy fuck.”
You glance down at him, teasing.
“Still got one hand.”
He doesn’t even look away from your chest.
“I’m trying so fucking hard.”
You brush your thumb over your nipple again—slower this time, watching him watch you.
His jaw is clenched so tight it’s trembling.
His hips shift under you—just once—but his hand stays where it is, gripping your back like it’s the only thing keeping him from dragging you down onto his cock.
“You gonna cum just from watching me?” you murmur, voice low and thick.
His eyes snap shut.
“If you keep that up…”
“Then what?”
“Then I’m gonna fucking cry.”
That makes you grin.
You shift again—just slightly, just enough to apply a hint more pressure between your bodies.
Your hand still cupping your breast.
His hand still clutching your back.
And now?
You lean in. Mouth just beside his ear.
“Don’t you dare cum yet, puppy.”
His breath stutters.
“I—fuck—fuck.”
You trail a finger down from your chest to his jaw, tap it twice.
“That’s what I thought.”
And then you squeeze your tit again.
For you.
---
You take your time.
One hand dragging back up your stomach, nails light, grazing along the meat of your side. Then cupping one heavy breast—lifting it, squeezing slow. Testing weight, giving pressure. Your fingers brush the peak, pinch it. Not rough. Just present.
A soft sigh escapes you.
Again, not for him.
For you.
His jaw’s locked tight under you. Hands still frozen—one under your thigh, the other anchored at the small of your back, where you let him keep it like a gift he wasn’t supposed to unwrap.
He’s barely breathing.
Your other hand rises—joining the first. Both palms full now, pushing your tits together, up, out, letting the soft weight swell in your hands. You arch slightly, pressing into your own grip, mouth parted, lashes low.
You thumb your nipple. Slowly.
Then again.
You ride his cock like it’s background noise—pressure without friction, teasing without mercy. Just enough to feel him. Just enough to make him feel like he’s inside you, even though he isn’t anywhere close.
“Shit…” he breathes, voice cracking. “You—fuck, you’re—”
You don’t answer.
You shift your hips again, slower this time, letting your cunt drag thick over the line of his cock. Your thighs squeeze around his. Your tits bounce in your hands, and you squeeze them again, moaning softly as your fingers play along the edges of their weight.
His hands twitch.
You don’t let him move.
And the worst part?
You don’t even look at him.
Your eyes are on your own chest, watching your nipples grow puffy and stiff under your own touch. Watching how your fingers sink into the curve of flesh. How your skin reacts. How your body wants.
His mouth is open. Breathing through it now. Fucking wrecked.
“Please—please, please let me touch—something—”
You roll your hips again, slow and thick and unforgiving.
Your tits bounce once—then settle as you cup them again from beneath, lifting, pushing them together, holding them for a long, quiet moment while your cunt grinds down over his cock in time.
You finally look at him.
And you see it: the way his eyes are glassy. The way he’s shaking. The way his hips are trembling with the effort not to fuck up into you.
You stay silent.
You press your breasts tighter together. Your thighs tighten around his.
Then you lean forward, just slightly.
One of your tits brushes his chin.
He gasps.
Freezes.
His eyes snap to yours like you’ve caught him.
And you just smile— small and wicked.
Then lean back again and keep playing with yourself.
Grinding.
Sighing.
Ignoring every begging sound that slips from his throat like a prayer you’ll never answer.
Not yet.
---
Your breath’s tight now.
That perfect edge between control and need.
Your thighs ache with pressure. Your tits are heated from your own touch, glistening slightly in the low light, and your hips are moving faster now—shallow, rhythmic grinds that can’t even be called teasing anymore.
And Enjin?
He’s beneath you, head tipped back, lips parted, sweat running down the side of his inked throat. Hands locked. Jaw clenched.
And still.
Still not moving.
You lean in.
Lower.
Until your chest brushes his chin again.
His mouth twitches open with instinct.
You press one palm to his jaw, thumb stroking the line of his cheek.
And then, low, breathless:
“Touch me.”
You lift off his thigh and he moves.
Oh does he move.
That trapped hand slides out from under you—quick, not rough, but urgent—and for one blazing second, you feel his restraint waver. Like he’s going to grab your ass and snap the tension like a frayed wire.
But he doesn’t.
He just sets both huge tattoed hands to your body.
One at your back, one at your side.
Fingers spread. Savoring.
And he looks at you like you’ve opened your ribs and let him see the stars inside.
“Holy fuck…”
It’s a whisper. A prayer. Maybe even a little thank you.
He starts to touch.
Not squeeze.
Not grope.
Touch.
His palms roam—up your back, down your waist, along the curve of your hips and thighs. His fingers press in, just barely. Testing texture, skin, muscle. Heat.
You feel him mapping you.
The way his thumbs drag under your tits.
The way his hands pass under the hem of your shirt, lifting it inch by inch, until there’s nothing but skin and sweat and the shock of his calluses brushing over your ribs.
He exhales—sharp, like the feel of you startled him.
And then both hands come up.
Not fast.
He cups your breasts in his palms.
Big hands, fingers splayed, heavy enough to make you gasp—but it’s not a grab. It’s worship. Like he’s handling something breakable.
Something divine.
His thumbs brush your nipples and your whole body shivers.
Still no thrust. Still no rutting.
He’s learning you.
“You’re unreal,” he mutters—voice low, rough, hoarse. “You’re so fucking… fuck—” His thumb flicks again and your hips twitch.
He moans.
You. He moans for you.
Then he leans in.
Mouth open. Breath hot. And instead of latching on to your nipple like some horny idiot, he presses his lips to the underside of your breast.
A fucking kiss.
Not wet. Not sucking.
Just the heat of his mouth on the softest part of you, like he needs it there to stay sane.
He moves to the other.
Another kiss. Lower. Lingering.
His hands shift again—up your back, around your ribs. Like he’s cradling something precious. Something that could vanish.
He whispers against your skin:
“Gonna make you feel so good, I swear. Just let me. Let me touch.”
And he does.
He touches like you’re a language he’s just started to learn. Tracing the grammar of your hips. Memorizing the sentence of your waist. He skims your thighs like he’s reading a holy text written in warmth and motion and your own slow grind against his cock.
Still not allowed to cum.
Still not thrusting.
But his hands?
They’re everywhere now.
One dragging down your spine. The other sliding under your tit to lift and press and spread the softness against his face.
He breathes you in.
“You smell like heat,” he mutters. “Like sweat and skin and fuckin’ heaven.”
You don’t stop him.
You don’t rush him.
You just let him have this—your body, your curves, your weight in his lap while he worships with two shaking hands and a mouth that’s trying not to lose control.
No more testing. No more teasing.
He’s revering you.
His hands are firm. Certain.
Spread across your back, fingers dragging over muscle, weight, sweat. Not possessive. Not greedy.
Just here.
Rooted.
Like if he doesn’t touch all of you, he’ll stop existing.
He doesn’t speak for a while.
His mouth is busy pressing kisses—real ones—along the underside of your breast. Intentional. Slow.
He’s memorizing warmth. Taste. The way your skin gives under his lips.
When he lifts his head and looks at you, there’s nothing playful left in his expression.
It’s quiet.
Raw.
And his voice, when it comes, is so low it almost vanishes under your skin.
“No one’s ever looked like you.”
His thumbs are brushing slow circles at your waist. Not trying to move you. Just feeling.
His eyes don’t drift to your chest this time. They’re locked to yours.
“You’re the most—” He falters. Not from shyness. From not knowing how to finish it without breaking. “You’re the most real thing I’ve ever had my hands on.”
Now your breath hitches.
His fingers trail up again, slow, over your ribs, under your tits again. Lifting. Supporting. His eyes finally fall—once—just once—to where your body spills soft and full into his palms.
And he swallows.
Like the sight hurts.
“Every part of you. All this…” His thumb traces the curve under your nipple. “This isn’t just sexy. This is art. This is a body you survive to earn.”
His mouth presses to your sternum. One kiss.
Then another.
Then lower—between your breasts, where sweat gathers and heat pools.
He kisses there like he’s pressing a vow into your skin.
“I don’t want to fuck this,” he murmurs. “I want to live in it.”
You go still.
Because you feel the weight of it.
The way his hands are trembling now, but he’s holding back.
The way his lips stay soft, open, pressed to your chest, like this is the first moment he’s breathed all night.
“You don’t need to move. You don’t need to grind.” His hands slide up your spine again, pulling you closer. “Just let me touch. Let me see all of it.”
He leans his head back to look at you.
And that expression—God—you’ve never seen anything like it on him.
There’s no smugness. No grin.
Just longing.
Not the kind that begs for release.
The kind that begs for time.
“Let me earn you. Let me worship this body like it’s the last thing I get to hold before I die.”
And when he cups your tits again, it’s slow, with full palms. He lifts them gently—like they’re the holiest weight in the world—and buries his face there.
With full devotion.
Breathing deep.
You feel his mouth open just slightly, lips dragging along the curve. No suction. No teasing tongue.
Just skin to skin.
Heat to heat.
And you—
You’re fuckinb silent.
Your fingers curl into his hair. Your head tips back.
And in the hush, in the thick press of heat between your thighs, with your chest bare and his hands wrapped around the full weight of you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish—
You murmur it.
Soft.
Too soft.
But his ear is against your chest and he hears it all.
"No one’s ever touched me like you want to.”
It stabs the breath from him.
Instantly.
He goes still.
Fully still.
Like his body short-circuited.
You feel the tension—how hard he fights the instinct to move, to grip, to rut.
But the silence breaks anyway.
“Fuck.” It’s a whisper. A reverent curse. “Don’t say that to me unless you’re ready.”
You blink down at him, and your fingers tighten slightly in his hair.
“I wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t.”
There’s a pause.
Then:
He moves.
It’s not sudden.
But there’s a shift.
Something in him clicks.
Not like he’s lost control.
Like he’s finally free to use it.
His hands slide down your waist—slow, firm, knowing. The way only a man who’s done this a hundred times can. Not fumbling. Not tentative.
He slides one hand lower.
Not to tease.
Not to test.
To give.
You inhale as his knuckles brush the inside of your thigh, then again, higher, until the flat of his palm presses against the damp, soaked heat between your legs. He exhales like he’s been granted absolution.
“Goddamn,” he breathes. “You’re burning.”
His fingers flex—just once—testing the wet fabric between you.
You twitch above him.
He doesn’t smile.
He doesn’t gloat.
He just leans forward, mouth still pressed to your chest, and murmurs against your skin:
“I’m gonna make you feel it.
What it means to be touched like I want you.
No rush. No games.
Just this.”
Then his hand is under the waistband of your panties.
He doesn’t dive for your clit.
He doesn’t pump fingers inside like he’s owed space.
He cups you.
His massive palm presses flush against your mons, middle finger perfectly aligned with your slit, just resting there—claiming nothing, asking everything.
“You tell me how deep.
You tell me how slow.
And I’ll give you the kind of pleasure that doesn’t fade for days.”
And that’s not a boast.
It’s a promise.
---
Your breath stutters.
Your thighs tremble.
You lift yourself just slightly—not off of him completely, just enough to shift your hips and open your legs a little wider, the wet cotton of your panties sticking to your folds as you ease your weight forward—
And give him space.
His hand moves instantly—so eager.
He slips beneath you like his palm was designed for your heat.
His middle finger drags—slow—through your slick slit, and his breath shudders against your skin.
“Oh… fuck.” His voice is so low now it’s practically a groan. “You’re soaked.”
You don’t answer.
You can’t.
You lean into him instead—chest crashing down against his, the press of your bare tits spreading soft and heavy across his torso, your arms hooking around his thick shoulders as your forehead drops to the crook of his neck.
And when you breathe out?
You pant.
“Enjin—”
That’s all. Just his name.
And it breaks something in him.
His free arm wraps around your back—holding you there, tight, like he’s afraid you’ll lift away again.
And then—his fingers move.
He finds your clit without hesitation.
Circles.
Firm, slow, devastating.
Not light teasing.
Not rough rubbing.
Just that deep, knowing stroke that sends electricity straight through your spine.
“That’s it,” he murmurs into your hair. “Just breathe. Just let me touch you.”
His fingers keep circling—every motion damp with your slick, controlled, timed to your breath like he’s syncing your body to his. Your thighs twitch around his lap, and he feels it.
“You’re shaking already,” he whispers, grinning just slightly. “How many times you gonna cum on my hand, baby?”
Then he kisses your neck.
Soft. Too soft.
Because right after—
He pushes inside.
Just one finger at first.
Thick. Hot.
Deep as fuck.
You gasp, moan caught in your throat as your cunt flutters around the intrusion, and his whole body tightens beneath you.
“Holy fuck—you’re gripping me already.”
He curls it just slightly.
Hits that spot. You know the one.
The kind of touch that makes your hips roll without permission.
And he’s smiling now.
That slow, dark smile.
The dimples at the corners of his mouth deepening with an expression of pure, unashamed fixation.
“Goddamn, you’re perfect.
You feel like you were made to break on my hands.”
You pant harder. You rock.
And his second finger pushes in beside the first—unbelievably wide, forcing the silky walls of your heat into compliance as he moans against your neck like you’re the one ruining him.
And maybe you are.
Because your body’s wrapped around him now. Hands knotted in his hair. Sweat slicking your skin as you fuck yourself on his fingers, letting him work you open from the inside with nothing but patience and talent.
“That’s it,” he growls into your ear. “Ride it, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
CW: Sub!Enjin, Dom!Reader, Latex, Choking, Consensual (duh), Rough, Puppyplay, (Aftercare, if u squint), uh... don't like, don't read :>
His bated breath came out in little huffs, sweat dripping down his tattooed chest while he looked up. Fuck. He continued to thrust his frustrated cock into his sweaty palm while panting heavily. Usually, Enjin would’ve had to stop already but he couldn’t even think about following orders right now. His head felt so fuzzy, his eyes were blurry and he was, frankly said, somewhere where he couldn’t even hear their words. As a result, Enjin couldn’t care less about the fact that he was kneeling on the cold floor while fisting his angry, red cock and nearly sobbing because he was so close. I’m nearly there, I’m so close, I-
Until a harsh, leathern slap to his chest freed him from his flurry of egoistical thoughts, hitting his already hard and throbbing nipples again and again with more rage. Enjin released a crying moan while tears of frustration nearly dared to spill out. “Remove your hand”, a harsh voice reminded him. “Can I… please? It’s been so long, please, I will do everythi-”
But the person in front of him just shot him a sadistic smile, and he immediately knew that all his begging would be futile. “You know how we play, puppy. Hands off, if you ever want to cum again.” Enjin choked back a frustrated sob, nodding his head, and removed his hand like the good boy he was. The person in front of him descended to the ground, closer to him, to take his heated face into their hand and give him a loving kiss.
“Good job, my sweet boy.” Yeah, he was absolutely doomed, knowing damn well that he would do it again immediately for them. He took a deep breath and gave them a tired smile, trying to grab their waist while leaning in for another kiss. And fuck, his hot tongue was melting against their cool mouth, his greedy fingers trying to grab whatever was close to him. Usually, they wouldn’t get him this worked up, but in Enjin’s defence, it’s been nearly a month since he last climaxed properly without any ruin. Their gloved hands – God, did Enjin enjoy the feeling of latex on his skin – explored his chest again and gently twisted and pulled on his hard nipples. As a result, he just couldn’t help but moan into the lewd kiss, whereas his cock, which was still hard, mind you, rubbed against their latex stockings. No doubt, they were genuinely playing with Enjin’s head, having him try to find friction by rubbing his angry red tip against the smooth, warm material. And although he was reduced to nothing more than a horny dog, he loved these moments of closure and pleasure.
“Who allowed you to fuck my leg, Enjin?” He felt caught but couldn’t help but pant a strained “…nobody, sir” when he felt their hand come down onto his nipples. Hard. Enjin really had to grit his teeth otherwise he would’ve cum without their permission. As a result, the initial smile vanished from their partners face as they sat back and opened their legs. “You know what to do, don’t you?” Enjin nodded obediently, of course he did.
He started to lap at his partner, like a dog starving to drink water from his bowl. His tongue piercing, thereby tracing their partners' most sensitive spot, he was a good boy after all. When Enjin noticed the first gasp, he immediate reaction of knowing that his partner was feeling good – that HE was making them feel good – made Enjin proud to an undefinable extent. They both spent a high amount of time to make sure they would know what their partner likes, and Enjin loved their reaction to him, making them feel good. It was only until he started using his fingers as well that a gloved hand came down to his cheek and pulled him up, nearly gently. Enjin felt feverish while looking into their eyes, feeling flustered by the amount of lust seeping from their hot gaze. “I need you to put that useless dick to work. Can you do that for me, puppy?”
He nearly came on spot. Instead, however, Enjin nodded pathetically fast, nearly tumbling over out of excitement. Furthermore, the gloved hand that cradled him so gently just seconds ago, then pushed him onto his back and crawled over him like a cat in heat. Enjin felt the latex on his cock once again, their hand giving him a few lazy strokes until they aligned their hole with it. Admittedly, Enjin had hoped that he would at least have an ounce of control tonight, but this is the first time he’d have sex with his partner after nearly two months. Before he could enter them, however, he felt how snug ring was pulled to the base of his rather large cock and some cold lube on top of him. He let out another bated breath, a little shaky with excitement. He looked up to their partner, their body towering over him, glistening in the low light of their playroom lamp. Shiny latex-gloved hands on his heaving chest while their latex-stocking thighs were on either side of his hot body. What a sight. They sank down to the base, letting out a loud, and a by Enjin greatly anticipated moan while they pinched his hard nipples again. He felt feverish again while trying to buck his hips only to be met with another slap to his already sore nipples. “Good boys wait for their treat, mutt.” He could only nod again and whisper another “I’m sorry sir”, when was met with burning pleasure by their partner finally moving their hip.
The noises were downright sinful, the hot squelching and the heavenly sounds their partner let out making him consider to pray to something in this moment. “Whatever- ahh… - you’re thinking about – hnnhhnn… - stop this immediately” They let out another moan, while their hips came down onto Enjin’s harsh. The tempo was rough, their gloved hands once again seeking his nipples and pulling them again, and Enjin could only whimper from the feeling. “Harder, please sir. I can – ah…- I can take it!”
And with that, a gloved hand came down on his neck and pressed on the exact points that had Enjin see stars. “Come on puppy, fuck me good.” Although any form of reason was already long gone, Enjin could feel himself sink even deeper and just began to thrust upwards. Their eyes were wide open, their mouth agape and their body corresponding accordingly when Enjin began to take up the tempo to fuck their partner, their body falling a little forward. He used the momentum to grab their hips and fuck them as hard as possible, the gloved hand thereby moving from his throat to his chest again while their partner couldn’t stop gasping and moaning. Their gloved hand came down to their own genitals, rubbing and pulling with a nefarious speed while their hips met Enjin’s with a loud plap, plap, plap.
Additionally, they bit into Enjin’s shoulder while trying to silence themselves, which nearly got Enjin over the edge. “Enjin- fuck- I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-” but before they could even finish their sentence, their body started shaking, overwhelmed with pleasure while tightening around Enjin’s hard cock inside of them. Their orgasm had them nearly crying, especially because Enjin was still thrusting into them hard. “Fuck Enji, cum for me, come on puppy, show me what you got!” It must’ve been out of spite, because just as Enjin wanted to pull out, they smashed their hips together again while panting an “inside, you mutt!” against his face.
Enjin couldn’t hold it any longer, after being tortured and denied any orgasms for over a month, his voice of reason was long-gone and he spilled whatever was left inside of his pathetic cock inside of his partner. His groan turned into a moan, into a whimper when they wouldn’t stop moving, nearly overstimulating him. “Mhh baby, please stop-“ and with that they stopped and plopped against his heaving chest. He was still buried deep inside of them but neither of them cared. Once again, the gloved hand came up to him and stroked his cheek gently, pulling him closer to kiss him again. This time, however, was sweet, loving, rewarding.
“You did good, puppy.” – “Thank you, sir.” They shot him a little grin and placed another gentle kiss to his nose, then his forehead and finally his lips again. “How are you feeling?” – “I’m fucking tired.” – “Shower and ordering food?” Enjin just nodded, feeling a little colder once their body heat disappeared. “Baby, you’re dripping.” “And whose fault is that?” “…mine.” “Correct. Come one, you can lick it out.” And with a wink, they disappeared into the backroom next to the playroom. Enjin followed along, just like a dog would follow his owner.
Valentines isn't celebrated as much in the Ground, still- the tradition of spending a day with your special someone doesn't sound so bad.
Unless one of them forgot about it.
CW: violence and blood (Jabber), nsfw (Jabber)
Enjin:
You've been planning for this day for weeks. You reminded him a couple of times that you will be taking him out for this day.
Now you stand in front of his door- chocolates in hand. You fix your hair a little before knocking.
When Enjin opened the door, the scent of cigarettes hit your nose.
"Hey gorgeous! What's got you so dressed up this evening?" A smile was present on his face as he asked.
"Enjin..." Your brows furrow a bit- arms slacking.
"Yes?" You just continue to look at him. Enjin stares back-confused.
You know what? You're gonna be petty.
"Mmm.. nothing, just here to drop off these chocolates. You could share it with the kids, just don't give Rudo too much."
"Aww, you're so thoughtful, sweetie. I'll make sure of it." He gives you a peck on your cheek. He stinks of cigarette smoke, clearly someone hasn't even taken a shower.
You stand still for a moment, wishing that he at least remembers.
"So... Do you need anything else?"
Okay, fuck it you're leaving.
"Nothing more, good luck babe."
"You too, boo!"
You left before hearing his door close. Right when you turned the corner, you could hear him fling his door open, shouting as he chased after you.
"BABE I'M SORRY PLEASE WAIT UP!"
Arkha Corvus:
You just got home after a short but tiring mission clearing out trashbeasts. When you opened the door to his room, a delicious scent of his cooking immediately got your attention. You head to the kitchen and see Corvus cooking up a feast.
"Woah... what's the occasion, love?" You visibly saw Arkha tense for a moment. Turning his head slightly to gauge if you were joking.
"Uhh, Arkha?"
"It seems like you forgot what we had planned for today."
You turn to look at the calendar, a specific day drawn in a heart. Your face pales for a second before sputtering.
"Wait- no I didn't forget! Well I did, but I didn't forget to plan for it!"
"Really now?"
"Yes! Amo helped me make a paper bouquet for you! Fuck- that was supposed to be a surprise..."
There's a little grin on his face that you don't seem to notice from your panicked state.
"Now, don't drag an innocent kid into this."
You began to tearfully sob while kneeling and hugging his waist. "Nonono- please believe me!"
Gris Rubion:
It was already a chilly evening, you were waiting for Gris to arrive at the roof of the HQ for your little under the moonlight picnic date. You already placed a spacious mat for the food, a couple of thick candles scattered around for ambiance- the only one missing is your lover, Gris.
A couple of minutes pass, the wax from the candles pool around the bottom and he still hasn't arrived. You fear that he must've forgotten about your date, that was until the metal door burst open— Gris heaving and panting as he held a bouquet of fake roses in his arms.
"I'm h-here, hah, sorry I was late."
You stood up from the mat and embraced him.
"I thought you forgot."
"About you? Never for the whole damn Ground."
The chilly night was spent gazing at the starless night sky— only the moon and candles being the source of light, basking in each other's warmth.
Zanka Nijiku:
He was bummed. You already had things planned on this special day with him, but with the unfortunate events that occurred in that giant trashbeast, he was still confined in the infirmary to recover.
And there you were, scurrying around and placing decorations around him, with permission from Eisha if you could celebrate here of course. Zanka was quiet the whole time, his chin resting on his palm- eyes following your movements as you prepare this little celebration for him.
"I know we already had plans for today and I'm the reason why we couldn't go-"
"Shut it. If you're going to apologize for being here- alive, then I will kill you."
"That doesn't make any sense-"
"If you were just stabbed, I wouldn't worry much because I know you're an incredible guy who would defy those odds and survive, and also because I trust Eisha." He stares as you continue to speak, it felt like you were lecturing him out of concern. Which you were.
"But not only you were stabbed- but also drugged by a crazy motherfucker! And that's what's Eisha was saying, you're already fine but you still have it in your system." You sat down on his bed, holding his hands- your fingers tracing the bandages wrapped around his. Zanka's gaze softens as you bring his fingertips to your lips.
"I'm so relieved that you're alive. You don't know how much it'll break me if one day you-"
His fingers clench around your collar, he cuts you off by pulling you in for a kiss.
"I won't let myself be killed that easy."
"You better."
Jabber Wonger:
"What's so special today?" Jabber asks, clearly bored out of his mind. You took him out of the base, basically dragged him out from his drug den or make-shift lab, whatever you call it. The sun was already setting, giving you a great view for your surprise.
"You've been asking me 'bout this for days, I want you to guess."
"Outdoor sex? Didn't know you were an exhibitionist, babe~" you could feel him purr on your shoulder as he hugs you from behind.
"Mmm... No, keep guessing~"
You continue to walk closely with each other as he continues to guess what you had planned. You stop on your tracks, Jabber peeks from your shoulder.
It was an open area with a few lights stuck on poles to illuminate the field. Jabber walks around to check the place out, kicking stones around when he found nothing exciting.
"Can't really tell what you're planning, babe. Come on! Give me a hint!"
"Fine, fine... But! Give me a kiss first, pretty boy~"
Jabber happily jogs towards you and jumps on your open arms. He immediately sticks his tongue out to lick your lips before diving in for your lips. It was a sloppy, messy kiss that had both of you groaning when you part.
"What's the surprise?" he giggles
"Y'know how you've been pestering me to fight you?"
"Yeah? Always say no, you're no fun."
"That's why we're here, babe. Let's let it all out!" Jabber felt blood pumping from his ears.
"Yo, you better mean that man! I don't want you holding back on me!" His face is brimming with excitement.
You grab a hold of his face, planting a peck on his lips. "You for one should know that I never hold myself back."
"Then what are we waiting for, babe?"
"Get ready to get your ass handed to you. Also, I got Cthoni as an emergency contact, just in case I bring you to the verge of death."
"That's what I like to hear!"
Jabber takes a few steps away from you, creating space for your combat. His thoughts run in miles, thinking of how you'll mess him up– or how he will mess you up. His mankira extends— only on its first form.
"And here I thought we're not holding back."
"Give me a fight that's worth my life and you'll see my baby's true colors."
In a flash of light– your jinki transforms. Right hand neurotoxin, left hand poison– you remind yourself.
The air shifts as you both dash towards each other, killing intent present on both your glowing eyes. His mankira manages to scrape your cheek, not deep enough to instill his poison but enough to sting and burn. You kick him away to create distance between yourselves. Playing it safe is boring, but acting stupid isn't your style either.
"Ahh fuck it, I'll just have fun."
An exchange of blows after blows began– pushing your bodies to their limits. Eventually, Jabber revealed mankira's true form, those large talons are intimidating as hell— but that doesn't stop you from rushing towards him with your jinki in hand and landing a hit on his temple. He stumbles in his steps, he probably wouldn't be able to fight like this this— concussed as hell. As a last ditch effort he tries to stab himself with his neurotoxin, however, you pinned his hands above his head— transforming mankira to it's first form since he wasn't able to concentrate.
"You don't get the easy way out, Jabber. I want you to feel every single hit I give your body and every bruise that I will create on your skin. I want you conscious for every single one." You whisper in his ear. He musters a grin, looking down– you could see that he was already sporting a boner. Freak..
"I fucking love you, y'know that right?" Jabber struggles from your grip, definitely not giving up from the fight. In turn, you held him tighter, almost cutting circulation in his hand. You raise your fist and land it heavily on his cheek— slipping that you accidentally hit his nose. Crimson red blood drips out from his broken nose, you fight the urge to– no, you were already leaning down to lick it clean. Jabber groans, rutting his hips in the air —slap— his head turns to the side.
"Behave, at this point you're no better than a dog." You felt less of a struggle from him, you're supposed to be fighting but there he is, thrusting his hips in the air like an animal.
"Don't tell me you've given up. I still haven't got my fun."
The adrenaline left Jabber's system, making him feel all the soreness from the fight. Still, he bites his lips in anticipation of your next hit. But before you could– Cthoni holds your arm back.
"You two definitely deserve each other, a couple of freaks."
"I prefer to call us devoted individuals. You love me, don't ya Jabber?"
"I do, babe." He wheezed out as you sat on his chest.
"Still, we can't have him out of commission this week. Zodyl got us a mission do."
"Uggghh, fine. You heard that babe? You got saved by the bell."
"boooo"
"I know right? Booooo" you both boo at Cthoni, you could see a comically large vein throbbing on her head. In turn she kicks the two of you into her manhole, transporting you in your room.
"Let's take a little rest before we patch each other up."
"All good to me."
That fight had both of you properly exhausted and immediately fell asleep with Jabber resting his head on your chest.
A few hours later, you woke up first to see him drooling on your shirt. You gently pried yourself away from him to get a new clean set of clothes, a wet towel, and bandages. While he sleeps, you take his clothes off —you leave him with his underwear of course— to wash away the dirt and blood. Underneath his clothes hide the bruises and wounds from earlier. Purple-red marks from your punches and a couple of old ones turning grayish on his skin. He jolts awake when the wet towel touches him.
"Just cleaning you up babe." You start at his arms, his muscles relax under your touch. Your fingers tracing along mankira– pressing on the sharp edge with your thumb. It pricks your finger, small droplets of blood emerge and you wipe it on Jabber's lips, smearing it like lipstick. He pokes his tongue out to lick his lips clean, giving you a grin. On his toned stomach blooms a nasty purple bruise, probably from earlier, you couldn't help yourself but to press on it— Jabber groans, fists clenching the pillow under him. You continue pressing on his bruise, loving the way he responds. Both of your thumbs press circles around his skin, his breath hitches at every little movement you make. As you lay between his legs, you could feel his clothed erection poking on your own stomach. You expected as much, sooner or later.
"Stop- stop, I might— hngh- I might cum."
How nice it was of him to warn you, he's certainly become more obedient from when you first started this relationship. You stop, he breathes a sigh of relief– you felt his calloused fingers brush against your face, his thumbs pressing on your cheekbones– pulling you close to meet his lips. You slither your way above him. Your pelvises resting on top— clothed erections rubbing against each other. Jabber groans as you move your hips, under your weight, you could feel a ladder of piercings from his erections rub against yours. Your hips rut forward, heavier, an intent to make him finish before you. He tries pushing you off, but to no avail, you instead pin his arms above his head– rendering him helpless under your touch. Soon he came in his underwear, making a mess of himself. That didn't stop you from reaching your high.
Jabber felt his brain frying, "Fuck– I just, ngh- I just came, man~" You felt yourself coming close, your hips stutter and your thighs shake from exhaustion. He felt your grip release his pinned arms— eyes following your hand as you pull your erection out of its confines, stroking yourself along your thrusts. Jabber bites his lip, pushing his own underwear down to reveal his slightly limp cock— four barbel piercings adorning along his frenum— slowly recovering from its previous release.
He wraps his calloused hand on both of your erections, his rings along with the sensation of his piercings rubbing on your cock slowly drives you to the edge. Jabber's thumb smears the precum coming from both of you– easing the strokes. You bury your head on the crook of Jabber's neck, digging your teeth, deep enough to feel his skin break, his crimson red blood filling your mouth. "Fuuck, you're such a sadist~" Jabber came alongside you, his head feeling like it's been stuffed by cotton.
You move away from him, eyes half lidded, his body twitches slightly. His fingers mix your spent with his, dragging them along his chest to his mouth, licking it clean– intensely locking eye contact with you as his tongue licks the crevices of his hand.
"You're putting on such a good show— makes me want to go all the way through."
"Is it working?" Jabber feels your erection twitch on his thigh.
cw: drabble, gender neutral, dom!reader, sub enjin, sexual tension, power play, explicit language, dirty talk, mild teasing
enjin and you hadn’t fucked yet. he was there, in your room, sitting cross-legged with that serious look like he was about to go over a report. but the subject was something else.
“so…” you started, looking right at him. “we need to talk about this before anything happens.”
his brow arched. “about what exactly?”
“about who’s on top and who’s on bottom.” you leaned back in the chair, savoring the twitch in his jaw.
enjin took a slow breath, like he was trying to stay calm. “i’m older, stronger. i think it’s obvious.”
“obvious what?” you cut in, grinning wickedly.
“that if someone… takes the lead, it should be me.”
you laughed, low and teasing. “that’s cute. you talk like i haven’t seen the way you drop your head every time i give you an order. like i haven’t noticed your pulse speeding up when i grab your wrist.”
his cheeks flushed immediately. “that doesn’t mean anything.”
“it means everything.” you stood slowly, walking toward him until you were right in front of his stiff body. “look at the way you’re looking at me. we haven’t even fucked and i already know who’s going to spread their legs.”
his breathing hitched, but he didn’t move when you leaned closer.
“i don’t…” he muttered, looking away.
you grabbed his chin with two fingers, forcing him to meet your eyes. “don’t what? don’t want me to touch you? don’t want me to make you moan until you can’t think straight?”
a shaky gasp fell from his lips. “i want to… but…”
“but nothing.” your hand slid down his throat, pressing gently until it rested on his thigh. “you want it, and that’s enough. the only thing left is for you to admit what you already know.”
“what do i know?” his voice came out barely a whisper.
“that you’re mine. that you’re the one who’s gonna moan, who’s gonna arch, who’s gonna beg me not to stop.” your finger traced slowly down his thigh, pressing right against the base of his growing cock.
“ahh…” enjin let out a strangled sound, trying to move his legs away, but your hand pinned him in place.
“you’re hard, enjin.” the words hit like a slap. “hard just because i told you the truth.”
“shut up…” he muttered, fists clenched.
“then shut me up.” you challenged, leaning in so close your lips almost brushed his. “throw me on the bed and fuck me if you really think you’re the one in charge.”
the silence between you turned heavy, electric. his eyes burned, but his hands didn’t move. no attempt to take control. just a tremble in his fingers, the tiniest push of his hips into your palm.
you smiled, cruel and sweet all at once. “that’s what i thought.”
“it’s not… that simple.”
“it’s exactly that simple. want me to prove it?”
you didn’t wait for an answer. your hand slid up into his lap, grabbing his cock through the fabric. the moan that tore from his throat was low, desperate.
“mmm, so big… already leaking. and you still insist you’ll be the one in control?”
“please…” he barely whispered, eyes shining with shame and need.
“what do you want, enjin? say it.” you squeezed harder, dragging another gasp out of him.
“i want… i want you to…”
“to what?” your voice dropped into venomous sweetness.
“to… fuck me.”
the confession fell broken, humiliating, perfect. you laughed softly, smacking his crotch lightly with your palm.
“much better.” you stepped back half a pace, watching him breathe hard, cheeks flushed, pride shattered. “now you know: there was nothing to argue. you were always the one on bottom.”
enjin closed his eyes, chest rising and falling fast, as if accepting the words broke him completely.
you leaned in again, your mouth ghosting over his without kissing him yet. “next time, enjin, it won’t be a talk. next time, you’ll be on your knees.”
