like. really hot chicks. but when he see's cute little you? meek, unassuming, blushing?
he needs you.
contents: fem!reader. fem!recieving oral. penetration. overstimulation. pussydrunk!enjin. he doesnt have good control.
minors, do not interact.
enjin . . . who really tries to go easy on you. its just that he cant help it. he's always messed around with absolute bombshells who knew how to play games. but you, with your wide doe eyes? he shattered in an instant.
his tongue delves into your mouth, tangling with yours despite your shocked little gasp. he groans, big hands hauling you ever closer.
"mm.. you're so good.. just like that, baby. follow my lead."
enjin . . . who needs you naked. once again, he tries to put his self restraint to good use while undressing you, hands gently slipping off your shirt and shorts.
but as soon as he sees you in your underwear?
"fuck.."
he has you sprawled out on his bed, his mouth moving down your skin to lick and suck at your perked nipples. down, down, down. rough hands hike your thighs open where he groans at the sight of slick folds.
enjin . . . who devours you. he's drunk, frenzied. tongue working messily between your legs while his eyes roll back in his head.
its honestly absurd how loud he is down there, slurping and groaning like this is the last meal he'll ever have.
when your trembling thighs try to snap shut around his head, those hands are pushing them apart and pinning them down. his eyes will slowly flutter open and gaze up at your crumpled face, his lips latched onto your clit.
enjin . . . whos long fingers prod at your hole right as you were about to cum just from his tongue.
his tongue flattens out and laps quickly over your clit, drawing out those high mewls and tremors. but then his fingers sink in, two of them.
your orgasm rattles out of you as his fingers rub and press against your sweet spot, making your mind go to mush.
and he doesnt stop.
with a groan, he licks up the slick that drips out while his fingers curl and pump. your thighs are jolting, heels trying to push him away on his shoulder. but just one beefy arm across your pelvis, his elbow on one thigh with his free hand gripping the other, and you're stuck there.
enjin . . . who pulls at least two more orgasms from you before he's drunkenly staggering to his knees, haphazardly tossing his clothes aside.
his strong, tattooed body sits perfectly between your trembling thighs, your wide eyes traveling over his inked skin down to his girth.
holy shit.
he can see the nerves in your sweet eyes, leaning down over you to kiss your mouth while murmuring soft nothings.
"you can take it... lemme take care of ya.."
enjin . . . who cant help the low "fuck," that slips out of his mouth in a hot exhale when he presses the first few inches into your velvet walls.
he stops each time you whimper, letting you stretch around him while he kisses your lips and neck. his fingers slip down to rub at your puffy clit, distracting you from the burn.
when he bottoms out, he's panting.
enjin . . . who starts slow. long, languid rolls of his hips to get you acustomed to his size. but he can feel his self-control fraying.
at the first whine of pleasure, the first grasp of your hands on his shoulders, he groans. his hips push against your's a bit firmer, hitching your breath.
and that pace only builds and builds until he's jackhammering away into your tightness.
low moans and curses slip from his lips and he gets absolutely lost in you, his thoughts long gone.
"takin it so good.. fuck, fuckk.."
its not long before your toes are curling and your insides are clamping down, that high burning through your blood.
enjin . . . who makes you cum first.
and then absolutely fills you.
"there ya go.. f-fuck-!"
his voice breaks between moans and pants, his forehead pressing against your neck while his warmth spurts into you.
he slows, hips giving jittery little thrusts before he lets himself sink back into you, resting heavily in your warmth.
hi lunnie! dropping in to ask a very important question ^.^ how do you think enjin deals with bratting?
mm very very important question indeed, i had to sit with this one a longer while because genuinely...it's something that needs to be discussed. bear with me!! my writing is a bit rusty
✦ cw... bratty!reader, fem!reader, modern au, gris + bro + corvus mention, mean enjin, spanking, teasing, fingering, voyeurism (the others r totally listening), exhibitionism, slight pregnancy kink(??) idk bro thinks you'd look hot knocked up, gris is actually a huge pervert, not beta read pardon the grammar and misspellings love u !!
you're trouble. nothing, nothing but trouble.
dangerous, even.
you're smart, one of the smartest. prettiest, too, if you ask enjin.
but that damn mouth always, always gets you into trouble, and when you get into trouble, you end up just like this.
"shhh, doll, what'd i tell you? now's not the time for mouthin' off, honey," enjin hums, clicking his tongue when he felt you writhing across his lap. he acts like you can help it, like you can keep still when your ass is tingly with the stinging aftermath of being spanked by his stupid hands.
did you mention they were stupid? cus they are.
"y-y're sho fucking mean, jin," comes a pathetic little hiccup, teeth bitting down onto the fingers pressing down against your tongue. he was trying to help keep you quiet, knowing you'd be mortified if the other three heard you.
but enjin knows they're well aware of what's happening in your shared apartment's bedroom. all because you decided to be a tease while he was trying to play cards with gris, corvus, and bro on the one night they were all free at the same time.
"enjin, you're doing awful."
"i know babe."
"what happened to you being the best, hm? you're embarrassing me, baby."
"well, when i've got you hanging over my shoulder with your tits smooshed against my face, it gets hard to focus, y'know? 'm tryna bond with my guys."
"well, maybe you should be bonding with your girls..."
and who is he to ever deny you something—
"...'cause at least your good at that instead of this game."
--is what he thought before you decided to get smart. without hesitation, he threw his cards down and tossed you right over his shoulder with a firm slap to your ass, carrying you to the bedroom.
"i'll be right back, gotta deal with this one real quick."
SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!
"focus, baby, we're not done yet."
you're jolted back with a whine, his hand rubbing up and down your back, gentle on your cheek he just landed three spanks on. it's unfair how wet you get from this, the mixture of pain and pleasure making an addicting cocktail that makes your thoughts drip out of your pussy.
enjin knows, he always does, he knows this is the easiest way to get you dumb and brainless for him...and he absolutely loves it. he swipes a long, broad, wet stroke from the oozing entrance of your slit all the way down to your clit, puffy and swollen, just begging for attention.
the sound was immediate a wet, sloppy shlick as the pads of his fingers start rubbing little circles into the sensitive nub.
"ohh, sweet girl, look at you...my poor baby's leaking all over the place, just from my hand on her ass," he coos, savoring that pathethic mewl of his name that comes from around the fingers in your mouth.
you're so fucking wet that you're embarrassed, head dropping low as you flush from being able to hear the wet, sticky noises of him just circling patterns into your clit with his fingers, shlick, shlick, shlick, god, is he writing his name against your clit?
"aww, ain't that cute? wish the boys could see how pretty you look right now."
with a simple hum, his middle and index finger push deep into the tight, wet cavern of your pussy, groaning at the way you practically suck him and pulse at the thought of being watched by his best friends.
"mm, yeah? y'like that idea? thinking about those three out there, tryna keep themselves in their pants while hearing your shitty attempts at bein' quiet? they can hear you, 'm sure of it. you suck at being quiet, baby, they're probably listening for your next noise...go ahead, don't be shy. give them something pretty to listen to."
as if to prove himself, he curls his fingers juuust right, and pretty wail escapes you immediately followed by a loud, wet squelch from your poor cunt.
they most definitely heard that one.
he just chuckles, pulling his fingers out of your mouth to press down on your lower back to keep you from moving too much as he increases the pace, stretching the tight walls of your pretty cunt with a blunt, authoritative force as it practically milked his fingers.
"you always thought corvus was pretty, right? remember when i made you cum while i was on the phone with him? or the time gris walked in on us but you just kept bouncing on my cock when he was standing there in shock? shiiit, and i'll never forget—"
"j-jin, no, d-doooon't—"
"—when bro was gushing about how great of a babysitter you were to dear, that you'd make a wonderful mama one day? and let it slip out you'd have a pretty glow all round and cute?"
"j-jin, fuck, ssshut up, 'm—"
"maybe i should let em all listen to me make the smartest girl around an dumb fucking mess on my cock while i knock her up with my baby...and maybe they can come in and help clean up the mess."
you hated, hated cumming while super embarrassed, and he fucking knew that, because it always meant—
"ffuck, baby, you squirtin' for me? tha's it, keep cumming, make a mess all over my fucking pants s' i can go back out there just like this for them to see while we play that stupid fucking card game."
—you'd end up making a mess for him to brag about.
“m-mmh, e-enjinnn,” you plead, trying not to thrash because he just won't stop fucking you with his fingers.
you can hear him coo something about loving how you make his tattoos look so much prettier when your creaming on them, but you can't focus, hips bucking up instinctively to push back against his hand to prolong your orgasm. he can feel your soft gummy walls seize and pulse violently around his fingers, a series of frantic, delicious spasms that accompany the wetness that splashed all over him.
when the final, lingering tremors finally, finally ebb away, leaving you limp and breathless against his jean-clad thighs, enjin decides to be merciful and pulls his fingers out with a wet pop.
if you were able to look up at him, you'd see his face; a deep pink, his eyes hooded and glazed with pure satisfaction...and that dumb, stupid smirk plastered on his face.
his hand that rested on your back moves up, massaging your scalp as you came down from your high. and of course, enjin feels a huge ego boost, seeing you fucked out from just some fingers and a bit of spanking, your limbs heavy and trembling, puffy pussy still weeping and glistening in the dim light of the bedroom.
"pretty thing..." he purrs, clearly pleased with himself. he pulls you up into his lap, peppering your face in kissed with obnoxious 'muah's until you start to whine, biting at his cheek for him to stop.
"you're so embarrassing," you huff, leaning into him. "it makes me sick."
he doesn't miss a beat before correcting you, "makes you squirt is what you mean."
you want to knock him out cold.
"i know you do, dolly, it's okay, it's kinda hot."
you just pout, moving to bite him again before he stops you with a kiss, humming when he feels you melt against him. he loves how weak you are for him, it makes him fawn over you ever single time.
"you okay, though, baby? i didn't over do it," he asks, his tone softening, the teasing tone momentarily replaced by a genuine, heavy warmth. he leans forward, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your temple before leaning his forehead against your own. "that was a long fucking orgasm...you gonna be okay if i leave for a bit to still hang with them? i'll tell them to get out if you need me right now."
you just hum, rolling off him and plopping onto the bed. "go play with your boyfriends, my butt needs a rest from your stupid hands. you don't even realize how heavy handed you are."
that dumb grin is on his face, you can sense it.
"well, i gotta have bit hands to make sure i can slap as much cheek as possible."
"jesus, enjin, go! let me rest, my butt and pussy need a little break before you start being mean again!"
with a loud cackle, he helps you get comfortable on the bed before pressing a gross, wet kiss on your cheek. "won't be long, don't have you distracting me so now i can kick their ass. don't get too excited waiting for me, or i might not come back alone...just remember, i can hear when you start touching yourself," he teases, nipping your ear as you whine, hating that he knows you'll probably just make yourself horny again thinking about how the others will see your slick and squirt stains all over his sweatpants.
"you're so annoying."
"i love you too, angel."
when he steps back out into the living room, it's obvious they all heard you. each one of them is flushed in the face and corvus is clearly trying his hardest not to choke out gris who has a huge grin on his face, while poor bro is on the verge of fainting.
"enjin, my buddy," corvus starts, strained smile on his face. it falters when he gets a look at his sweatpants and it takes a couple of tries before he can find his train of thought again.
"p...please get your friend before he ends up through your coffee table."
bro just groans into his hands, shaking his head.
"i didn't even do anything! i'm just repeating what i heard back to them, is that a crime," gris chimes in, voice eerily innocent in a way that shows he's way too good at hiding his mischievous intentions.
enjin just shrugs, plopping back down and swiping up his cards that haven't moved since he left. "whatever you guys got up to is none of my business...however, after dealing with dolly and getting her all soft for me, i've got a new prize idea that's ten times better than $200..."
at that, they all lean in, curious to what this new 'prize' is...and they all know it pertains to you.
"whoever beats me gets to take a pair of her panties home t'night...and i'll make sure to make her cum in them before i hand 'em over. who's in?"
"..."
"..."
"...start the damn game," bro grumbles, absolutely ashamed but clearly determined as he throws his old cards in. enjin just grins as corvus takes everyone's cards and begins shuffling the deck again while gris elbows bro, praising him for 'finally letting the truth come out.'
he just hopes you don't mind letting those pretty yellow panties with the metal bow on the front go for a little bit...but he knows all three of 'em will take great care of them for you.
enjin who loves spelling his name against your clit at any time possible
when he's circling your clit with his fingers, he's spelling his name
when he's eating you out like he's gonna die if he doesn't, his tongue swirls each letter over and over again
before he slips his cock into you, he's slapping his tip against you before groaning as he messily writes out e.....n.....j.....i.....n....and popping his tip in with a choked curse
he really, really likes knowing that you're alllll his.
ꫂ᭪݁ some nsfw enjin headcanons i have , (mdni) .ᐟ
enjin, who values intimacy and consent above all else inside of the bedroom with his fling or partner. ensuring that they're comfortable and able to feel safe with him in such a vulnerable manner is his top priority.
enjin, who adores eating his woman's pussy. he never rushes in this aspect, but rather takes his sweet time to savor everything that your glistening sex gives him. the taste of your arousal coating his tastebuds, his tounge tracing your delicate folds, his lips gently suckling your clit—all an art form he's carefully curated for both his and your pleasure.
enjin, who always has his hands somewhere along the length of your body. whether they're threaded in your hair, lovingly caressing your scalp or kneading the globes of your ass, he physically cannot function if he isn't touching you during sex.
enjin, who praises and degrades you in the same breath. the weeping head of his cock hitting your cervix, eliciting strings of lewd, incoherent ecstatic cries to fall from your lips and land against his inked neck? "your cunt is practically weeping for me, baby. such a pretty, cock-drunk slut."
enjin, who thoroughly envisions how he'd fuck you in the most mundane situations. if you're driving back from a mission, and it's just the two of you, he'd pull over on an abandoned road and drag you out of the car before bending you over the hood of the car and fucking you within an inch of your life. pulling you into a vacant closet at headquarters, fingering you in his room's bathtub, you name it.
enjin, who does have his fair share of kinks up his sleeve, but none of which involve bringing you pain of any kind. the notion of potentially hurting one of the few good things in his life is something he'd never dare to consider.
enjin, who adores every inch of you, but favors your thighs and legs above all else. especially when you hook them around his hips, or when they hang over his unfairly broad shoulders.
enjin, who isn't ever overly loud in bed, yet never fails to let you know how good he feels. his breath hitches just a fraction each and everytime he first bottoms out, the warm ridges along your walls massaging his length. on occasion, when he's lost in the sensation, the tiniest whimper will slip from his mouth.
𖦹 ⤷ a/n : these were so much fun to write! ofc, most were likely out of character and divert from the canon universe, but i hoped you enjoyed these nonetheless. (..◜ᴗ◝..)
⊹ ࣪ ˖ a very special thank you to the lovely @jiyuspassion for giving me the incentive to write this. much love, angel. <3
ENJIN has a big dick. And honestly, it shouldn’t be a surprise.
All tall and broad-shouldered and muscular, your eyes widen when he pulls his pants down for the first time.
“Hey, what’s that look for?”
He eyes you with a raised brow and half a smirk. “Never seen a dick before or what, sweetheart?”
“No, it’s just…”
You gape at his member. His heavy, leaking tip is pressed against his belly button, standing tall and erect against his chiseled abs.
Shit, it’s thick, too.
With an accusing finger, you jab at his chest.
“You’re way too big!”
But no matter how much you complain and whine and grumble at him for the size of his dick, you still end up taking it like a-
“Good girl.”
His voice is condescending, teasing, cocky. Per usual.
He loves your size difference, the way he towers over you, the way he can pin you down to the mattress to pound your stretched pussy.
He loves seeing your tits bounce and the way your eyes roll back and mouth falls open when he finally bottoms out in you.
And he loves making you work for it, laying on the bed not breaking a sweat while you writhe and squirm on top of him.
“C’mon, doll,” he grins, eyes glinting. “Ride me like you mean it. I wanna see those tits bounce, hehe.”
You moan. “I- I’m still tryna fit you, Enjin, you- fuckin’ horse,” you gasp out.
Looking down, you see the imprint of his dick on your abdomen and suddenly it makes sense why you can feel him in your stomach.
“That’s not very nice, sweets,” he pouts. His long fingers draw circles idly on your hips as you shudder, slowly sinking down inch by inch on his cock.
And when you finally manage to take it all, his balls pressed into your pussy and tip kissing your cervix, he’s leaning up to you, placing a kiss to the tip of your nose.
“Good job, baby,” he coos.
And he snaps his hips up into you.
You shriek. Head thrown back, spine arched, jaw open and tongue lolling, you’re seeing stars from one thrust.
“I’m so proud of you, my girl,” he groans, biting his lip. “You’re taking me so well—just look at you.”
The kisses he presses down your neck are so gentle compared to his vicious thrusts.
The bed frame is rattling, floorboards creaking, headboard thumping against the wall as his swollen head pounds into your cunt.
He can barely take this—your warm, wet cunt feels so good, so tight, so soft around him. It’s unbearable. And he knows you feel the same, with the way you’re drooling and babbling nonsense as he slams his dick up into you.
“Oh- ungh- y-you- s’ good- hah, Enjin!” You slur out. “Feels s-soooo good- your dick- ah- hah- feels s’ good!”
Enjin’s cheeks are flushed red, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip with a lopsided smirk.
“Yeah, pretty girl? You love my big dick, huh? Naughty thing.”
“Hngh, I- Enjin, I’m cumming!~”
And he finishes with you with a groan, swallowing thickly as his cum spurts into your poor, stretched pussy.
Gasping for breath, you flop over, muscles twitching with exertion as his seed drips out of you.
“Fuck you and your giant dick,” you groan, weakly smacking his chest.
He laughs before planting a wet, sappy kiss to your forehead.
it's hot as fuck, enjin thinks to himself. that statement could apply to the temperature of the room and the state of you underneath him at the moment, however.
your body is slick with sweat, his hands dig into your waist as he tries to keep them from sliding as he moves you against him. your spine bows off the mattress with a particularly mean drag of his cock, and your lips part with a moan that he quickly muffles.
your lips are sticky. lip gloss is smeared halfway to your cheek from all the kissing prior, but it's not like either of you really care about it. enjin likes to drag his tongue along the trail as his hips snap forward.
your lips taste like cherries— that only makes him throb more.
admittedly, enjin doesn't always like when you wear lip gloss. usually it's the kind that has glitter, and he hates trying to get the glitter off of him throughout the day after you kiss him— because of course you completely douse him in affection before either of you leave for the day.
but there was something about this cherry flavor…
he got the first taste of it when you were out for drinks earlier with the rest of the cleaners. you offered him a sip and he ignored the smudge around the rim— but the way it mixed with the alcohol had his head spinning just the slightest. it was like getting an indirect shotgun— and he was obsessed.
so, naturally; enjin asks for plenty of kisses on the walk back to headquarters. it's nothing out of the ordinary, enjin always gets needy and greedy when drunk or tipsy.
but this particular night it was hot and humid. sweat made your clothes stick to your skin uncomfortably and with enjin looming over it was overwhelming. he naturally radiates heat— so the weather made it worse.
by the time the two of you got back to your shared dorm, you were… irritated, to say the least. his hands were up your shirt the moment the door closed and before you could open your mouth to snap at him to leave you alone— his lips were on yours.
you don't remember feeling him peel you out of your clothes. it's a wonder you even remember him laying you back against the sheets— and judging by how he kept chuckling to himself, he knew. just a few sloppy kisses while you were already drunk and enjin could hold your melted body as a puddle in the palm of his hand.
was he worried about the heat when he found you already slick between your thighs? no.
he was addicted to that cherry lip gloss of yours, diving back up to lick at your mouth as his cock slides between your folds with little resistance. and you— powerless to do anything but let him manhandle you against the sheets.
if there's one thing enjin will forever love doing, it's teasing the hell out of you. enjin x reader!!
enjin has a multitude of petnames from you, and with every day that passes, you swear each and every one of them becomes more absurd.
you had grown used to semiu snickering and zanka gagging every time he called for you — names like sweet cheeks, little lady, pretty thing, buttercup, princess — but the name he calls you by today? you're positive it can't get any more egregious than this.
"bugaboo? enjin, please tell me i've misheard you."
"hahh? what's wrong with bugaboo?!"
he yelps when you smack his arm before the sound transforms into a hearty cackle, and you resist the urge to smack him again and instead grip his arm firmly
"you are such a jackass! call me that in public and i'll turn you inside-out."
enjin has hearts for eyes when you tell him that, grinning with all his teeth as his fingers tap rhythmically against the steering wheel in front of him. he's driving leisurely today, for once, but the only reason for it was because he wanted to talk with you longer.
"don't say that stuff to me, bugaboo. ya'know it turns me on—yeeeeowch! you smack hard, lady!"
"the kids are sleeping in the back—"
"pshhh, they've heard me say worse," he snickers, and you shake your head in disbelief, flustered and speechless more than ever as you sit back in your seat with a huff
"you're so....ugh." you grumble, and enjin doesn't hesitate to lean over the center console and press a hard kiss onto your cheek. you whine, trying to push him off, but he just presses another one onto your forehead before pulling back
"—i have a colorful selection of nicknames for you, there has to be at least one that you like." he says, and when you don't respond, his eyes light up
"ohh so that's how it is? which one is it?! tell me!" he demands eagerly, but you merely look out the window and ignore him. unluckily for you, enjin loves a good challenge.
"all right then. we've got a bit of a ride ahead of us, so don't think i won't get it out of you, babydoll." he teases, but you merely roll your eyes, squinting to keep a lookout on the road since enjin would rather stare at you than be a responsible driver.
—unfortunately, your boyfriend was equality persistent as he was annoying (which was very much), and he knew you like no other. so, when he finally says the word pretty girl while reciting his long list and sees your lips twitch in his peripheral, his entire face lights up as if he's discovered something sacred and special.
"pretty girl? you like that?" he questions, smooth voice sending shivers down your spine, and when you mistakingly stammer, his eyes sharpen like a predator finding its prey
"aww, don't pout, pretty girl! pretty girl, pretty girl, my pretty girl, the prettiest girl," enjin coos, and your face is positively on fire. enjin's ridiculously loud laughter eventually stirs rudo from his sleep, who sits up with a confused mumble while zanka continues drooling all over the younger cleaner's shoulder — on the other hand, you keep one arm braced against the door so you can get out the moment the truck rolls to a stop
"wha...what's so funny?" rudo slurs sleepily, but enjin only grins in response, yelling at zanka to wake up as he yanks his keys out and chases after you. you're speed walking towards the entrance of hq after prompty exiting the truck the second it stopped, but enjin is quicker, coming from behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist from behind
"you little—" you start, but enjin spins you around in his arms before you can cuss him out, and instead you squeal and tighten your hold on him
"what was that, pretty girl?" he questions with that handsome smirk that sends your heart racing, and the only thing you can do is hide your face in his neck as he throws his head back and laughs at you—again.
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.
sum. enjin & gris have had about enough of your attitude and they decide to fix it themselves.
!! established poly relationship, brat taming, spanking, unprotected sex, (slight?) denial, dom enjin and gris, use of names like sweet girl, brat, slut, filthy girl.
The air in the bedroom is heavy. You sit on the edge of the mattress, arms crossed tight over your chest, your chin jutted out in a defiance that you know is fragile.
"Still acting like a brat?" Enjin eyes you lazily, standing near the doorway. Gris sits in the armchair across the room, his massive frame taking up the entire space, his blue eyes tracking your every movement with a calm, terrifying stillness.
"I'm not," you snap, earning a raised eyebrow from both the men. It’s like they are giving you one last chance to fix your attitude before they do it themselves.
Once you huff and look away, Enjin’s reaction is immediate. Taking fast, deliberate steps towards you, he firmly grabs your chin, making you look up at him.
"Guess we'll have to fuck the brat out of you then."
Before you can scramble back, his calloused hands grip your waist. Enjin easily manhandles you, breath leaves your lungs in a rush as the world flips upside down. Ass up, face down in the pillow.
You bounce on the mattress, the duvet bunching beneath you, and before you can even ground yourself, Gris is there. He looms over the side of the bed, a mountain of a man. His presence is warm but at the same time overwhelming.
"Such a bad attitude," Gris murmurs, his voice a soft, but it has a dangerous undercurrent. His hand, large enough to span your entire stomach, slides down your body, pushing your thighs apart with an effortless pressure.
You try to snap them shut as your last act of rebellion, but he holds them open with ease. His palm comes down without a warming. Not on your thigh, but squarely on your exposed pussy. "Tch. Not even wearing panties under your damn skirt. Was this your plan all along, sweet girl?"
The sound is a sharp, wet slap that echoes in the quiet room. Pain blooms instantly, a sharp, stinging heat that radiates outward, making your hips buck off the bed. A cry tears from your throat in half-pain and half-shock.
"Look at that," Enjin climbs onto the bed, kneeling behind you. "Such a filthy girl"
His free hand roughly pulls your shirt down, exposing your breasts to the cool air. His fingers sink into the soft flesh, squeezing hard enough to bruise, his thumbs scraping over your nipples until they peak, hard and aching.
The sensation makes your head spin; Gris’s hand coming down on your cunt again, another sharp smack that makes your clit throb with a mix of pain and pleasure, while Enjin’s mean hands mold your tits, twisting and pulling at your hard peaks.
"Our little slut, aren't you?" Enjin growls, and fisting your hair to make you look up at him, his dark eyes boring into yours. "Acting like a brat just so we’d fuck you stupid. Is that it?"
"If rough is what you wanted, you could’ve just asked" Gris counters, his hand rubbing over the stinging skin of your pussy now, his fingers dipping into your wet folds, circling around your peaking bud. "You like that?" he hums, rubbing his hand slowly over your slick before delivering a slap right at your throbbing clit.
You yelp, body trembling with need and hips rolling against Gris’s hand, seeking more friction, seeking the release that is building low in your belly. "Please," you gasp, hips chasing his hand, "Please, I need.. need you"
Enjin laughs, a cruel, short sound. He pinches your nipple hard, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core. "You don't get to ask for anything. Not after that stunt." He roughly takes off your shirt, unclasping your bra so he can freely play with your tits, having no intention of giving you what you want just yet.
Gris pulls his hand away. The loss of contact is devastating. You are left hovering on the edge, your pussy clenching around nothing, your chest heaving under Enjin’s weight.
Gris easily turns you around like you weigh nothing in his strong grip. Both of the men eyeing your bare form, eyes darkening at the meal they are going to devour.
Gris moves between your legs, hooking his arms under your knees and dragging you down the bed until your ass is resting against his thighs. He frees his cock, thick and heavy, the tip glistening with pre.
He lines it up with your entrance and pushes inside your tight and wet channel. Not giving time for you to adjust, he slams into you, forcing a cry from your lips. Your eyes rolling back at the delicious stretch.
His massive frame presses you into the mattress, "This is what you get for acting like a spoiled little brat" he huffs out, your gummy walls squeezing tight around his cock.
At the same time, Enjin shifts beside you. Large hand tilting your head to the side. He grips his dick, slapping the head against your cheek, leaving a smear of pre-cum on your skin. "Open up," he commands.
You part your lips, and he thrusts in. He doesn't go slow. He shoves his length into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you gag. The salty taste of him floods your tongue.
They set a brutal rhythm. Gris pounds into you, his hips snapping against yours, big length stretching you to your limits. The sound of skin slapping fills the room. Wet and loud.
Every thrust drives you further up the bed, forcing Enjin’s cock deeper into your mouth. You are pinned between them, used at both ends, unable to do anything but take it.
"Look at her," Enjin grunts, his head thrown back, the yellow hair sticking to his forehead with sweat. "Choking on it. She loves being full. Isn't that right, brat?"
"You're so tight, so good," Gris breathes, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave fingerprints. He leans down, covering your body with his, his pace never faltering. The dual sensation is overwhelming. Gris hitting deep inside you, massaging that spot that makes your vision white, while Enjin fucks your face with a ruthless precision.
Enjin’s hand mauls your soft breasts, now sore from all his mean ministrations. Twisting your nipples, leaving them sore and aching. While Gris’ thumb rubs over your clit as he pounds into you. Pinching the little bud between his pointer and thumb.
The pressure builds again, fast and uncontrollable. Your body tenses, your toes curling, a muffled scream trying to escape around Enjin’s cock.
They sense it. They know your body too well.
"Not yet," Enjin snarls, "you’re not cumming just yet"
Gris stills his hips, buried deep inside you, but he doesn't move. He holds you there, trembling on the edge, denying you the final friction you need to fall over. You whine, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes, your hips bucking uselessly against him.
"Please," you beg, your voice wrecked. "Please, Gris", knowing he has a soft spot for you, you pout at Gris.
"Ya look so cute when you’re begging” Enjin says. He strokes his cock right over your face, his hand moving fast. "But you don't deserve it yet."
With a guttural groan, Enjin cums. Hot, thick ropes of it land across your cheeks, your nose, your lips. It marks you, sticky and wet, claiming you. The sight of it, the feeling of it dripping down your skin, pushes you closer to the brink, but Gris still holds you trapped.
"Fuck," Enjin breathes, milking the last drops onto your tongue before he collapses back on his heels to watch.
Gris waits until Enjin is finished before he moves again. He pulls out almost entirely, then slams back in, once, twice, three times. On the third thrust, he buries himself to the hilt and grinds against you. You feel him pulse inside you, the heat of his cum flooding your pussy, coating your insides. The feeling is enough to finally shatter you.
Your orgasm rips through you, violent and sudden. Your back arches, your vision blurring, a silent scream tearing from your throat as your pussy clenches around him, milking him for everything he has. Your body trembles under Gris's hold, overwhelmed by the intensity of it, the pleasure bordering on pain.
For a long moment, the only sound in the room is the heavy, ragged breathing of the three of you. The air smells of sex and sweat.
Slowly, the aggression melts away. Gris pulls out gently, a rush of fluid following him, but he doesn't leave you. He collapses onto the bed beside you, pulling you into his massive chest. His arms wrap around you, warm and secure, his hand stroking your hair softly.
"You did so good," he whispers against your forehead, pressing a soft kiss there. "So perfect for us."
Enjin moves from his position, disappearing for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleans your face with a surprising gentleness, wiping away the mess he made, his touch light and careful. Once you’re clean, he slides in behind you, spooning your back, his chest pressing against your spine.
You are sandwiched between them, Enjin’s warmth at your back, Gris’s solid weight at your front. The tension has completely drained from your body, leaving you limp and sated. You nuzzle into Gris's chest, listening to the steady thrum of his heartbeat.
Enjin presses a kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering on the skin. His hand rests possessively on your stomach.
"Go to sleep, brat," he murmurs, his voice soft but laced with a dark warning. "Just know that I won't be this nice next time."
You sigh, closing your eyes, letting the safety of their embrace pull you under. "I know," you whisper back, already drifting off.
The morning after, you wake up sandwiched between them, but the atmosphere has shifted. Enjin's arm is tight around your waist, his morning wood pressing against your ass, while Gris's hand is already roaming, his fingers dipping into your wetness, both men demanding you prove you're their good girl before they let you out of bed.
Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex, suggestive themes
"Enjin-" You feel him grunt against your chest. Your hands continue to fiddle with one of the pages of your book.
"Enjin, we really shouldn't do this here." As soon as the words leave your mouth you feel his arms tightening around you, nuzzling his face closer against your skin, as if in fear of you getting away if he doesn't do so.
He had been away on a mission the last two days. He's exhausted and his clothes kind of reek like the piles of trash that remained of the trash beasts that he fought so fiercely. On his way back, he couldn’t stop imagining how he’d pull you away from whatever you were doing the moment he reached HQ, just to drag you into the shower with him in order to show you just how much he's missed you.
However, his plan faded instantly when he spotted you comfortably nestled on a couch in the common room. You were already dressed for sleep, a book in your hands and a cup of tea, your nightly ritual, resting beside you. So the best thing Enjin could think of was taking off his coat and shirt in one go, and then planting himself on top of you with all his weight. There was just no way he could wait and drag you to your bedroom first, he needed you right now.
And that's exactly how you ended up in your current position. The peppermint tea you'd prepared for yourself, long forgotten on the table next to you.
You feel another grunt coming from him. He doesn't move a single muscle. As much as you love his laid back side, right now he's being a bit too laid back for your liking.
It's not that late into the evening yet and you fear the face Zanka, or anyone else for that matter, would make if they walked in on you guys like this. It's no secret that you and Enjin are close but you've recently took a step toward a type of intimacy that most definitely crosses the line of platonic friendship, and you haven't exactly told anyone yet. You're pretty sure though that Semiu already knows. Because it's Semiu, so of course she knows.
But you don't think Enjin would actually care. He's not the type to get embarrassed easily. But since you guys haven't even properly talked about your situation you'd rather not get anyone else involved for the time being.
"Want you to do the thing." He quietly mutters out, completely ignoring your statement from before. Your eyebrows scrunch up in confusion.
"The thing?" You move your head slightly in an attempt to get a better look at him. A mix of tabacco and your his favourite perfume hits your nostrils.
"You know, the thing you do after sex-"
"Enjin!" You whisper yell at him. Out of reflex you hit the back of his neck with your book. But you think you know what he's referring to.
With a heavy sigh you let your book fall to the floor with a quiet 'thud' and after a couple of moments you slowly start to drag the tips of your nails up and down his back. Your fingertips dance across his inked skin. Occasionally you run a hand through his undercut before going back down.
A heavy sigh leaves Enjin's lips. It doesn't matter if your nails leave red marks on his back while he's thrusting into you or if they gently trace circles across his tired muscles. Enjin adores it when you claim him with your hands.
Enjin being one of the Cleaners’ strongest Jinki users? Oh, most definitely. But right now, he’s completely and utterly at your mercy.
You feel his grip on you loosen for a second and you think that Enjin might actually listen to you for once, so you guys can take this somewhere more private. Oh, how naive of you.
Instead of getting up from his current position he places both of his arms steadily on either side of you, caging you in. You expect him to give you his typically bedroom eyes. The eyes that warn you every time about the next thing he's about to do. The ones that make your stomach drop. Those eyes that make your heart rate speed up and giving you that feeling that travels lower and ignites a warmth between your thighs.
But the look he’s giving you is not lustful.
His forehead meets yours as a soft giggle leaves your lips. The sound makes his heart leap.
"You okay?"
He responds with a breathless 'yeah' while nudging his nose closer to yours.
"Never been better, sweetheart-" He groans out deeply before connecting both of your lips for a delicate kiss.
Nero probably didn't develop a biting kink until after you assured him it was okay...
You were used to scales and long nails, and you were used to blunt teeth shyly peeking through his lips whenever his kissed you or parts of your body, but, despite all that, you longed for the sting of them pressing into your skin with the intentions of leaving a mark.
Nero was a valiant lover, and you weren't at all surprised that he held your comfort and pleasure above all else, and even so much was willing to take matters into his own hands if you were all worn out and couldn't last to have another orgasm. It was charming sure, but you could see at times that Nero held himself back. It was brief in moments, and back when he still carried the transformed arm that glowed a beautiful gold every time he touched you, he would always pull away the second the talons on the end of each of his fingers got too close to pierce your skin. You understood his hesitation, and you bit your tongue to not push him into not doing something he didn't want to do, but it seemed to get worse after he lost his arm and lost part of himself.
It was brutal and you hated seeing him like that, cursing whatever foul creature left your lover in that condition, and when he left you hoped he returned feeling whole again. And he did, pink ears and scratching the back of his head as you gaped at the sight of his new arm — flesh and bone though, no longer the scales and claws you'd come to love. He felt... different too; he seemed more alive as his eyes twinkled more as he explained everything to you, and you couldn't help but feel happy for him as that part of him he'd been missing had come back once and for all.
And he'd also acquired a new form.
It was a flash and there stood Nero, yet not Nero in skin. There was pattern of iridescent blue and red scales along his body, spectral hands made of an azure tone sitting atop his shoulders doubling as wings, his cropped, silvery hair rapidly growing and two little horns atop his head as he stood before you rather sheepishly. Like he wasn't one of the beautiful men you'd ever laid your eyes on. You couldn't help but to approach him and run your fingers along his new skin, your cheeks warm and your chest full as you heard him purr, and then when you looked up at him to speak, you were completely blown away by his smile. Yet, it wasn't the accepting smile that caught your attention the most.
What caught your eye the most was his teeth.
Reunion sex was a little cheesy yes, but you didn't find yourself caring when Nero was acting bolder in his advances and he'd become so handsy out of nowhere. However, your mind lingered when you felt him kiss at your neck, wondering if he'd cross the line he'd set himself and finally dig his teeth into your neck, as he had no qualms grappling onto your body with both hands with no barrier. You knew he wouldn't do it unless you asked, and your body burned and throbbed for more of him in ways that bordered on animalistic. You couldn't help yourself when you tried to subtly encourage him into getting rougher by raking your nails down his back, sliding your teeth around his collarbones and all-around rocking your hips deeper so that he had a better slide into you.
And then, very faintly, when the tip of his canines dug into the hollowness of your throat you could no longer take it.
"Nero — teeth," you managed to get out, needy in-between his thrusts and completely delirious from all the pleasure.
Nero hesitated at first, a stall in the roll of his hips at your plea, and you waited with intense anticipation as his lips kissed the area of your throat and his breath ghosted across you with a shuddering exhale.
A slight pinch of pain later and you could feel Nero's teeth dig into your flesh, an explosion of colors bursting from the back of your eyes as you moaned obscenely from the pleasure and scored lines down his back in retaliation. He groaned loudly into you, burrowing deeper into your skin from your eagerness before latching off of you and, with the answer in knowing it was what you wanted, bit into your flesh in various places on your body that he could reach. Everything spun out of control after that; heat and desire melding into one singular jewel as you curled your toes and kissed Nero's bloodied mouth and purposely prodded at one of his fangs with your tongue to get it to bleed before he nipped at your lips.
A bite to your collarbone later and you both came undone, lips stained ruby and Nero's cheeks pink when you laughed at his obvious embarrassment.
After that, it was hard to keep Nero's teeth out of your skin — marred and fresh with the evidence of his newfound obsession.
Where should I even start? Enjin is godly with his tongue play, and theres no doubt that he wants you to know it. His tongue laps on your folds like a hungry man, making sure that none gets left unattended. Enjin’s nose nudges on your clit whilst his tongue skillfully works its way in your wet hole. He loves making you sit on his face, scolding and slapping your thighs when you decide to hover instead of suffocate him with your wet pussy. His tongue does all the work, and it always makes you cum no matter how many times he repeats it. His hands grasps on your ass whilst you sit on his face, and god only knows how he survives being suffocated between your thighs. Enjin dies a happy man between your legs.
A Reason to Stay (Enjin x Older!Reader) Part 4 (Final)
Note: Again...There are soooo many alternative ways to make it feel more prone and more expressive, I don't know which way to go arrghhhhh, but I gotta pick one, and I might mess up, please msg me if you find any and I'll fix it lol. Thank you for reading. I'm happy that someone actually read my brain goop. I hope you guys enjoy it.
Link for Part 3: A Reason to Stay (Enjin x Older!Reader) Part 3
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A Reason to Stay (Part 4)
After the date, something changed.
Not him.
But you.
At first, it was subtle enough to go unnoticed without looking too closely. A missed call here and there. Replies that became shorter, slower, until conversations started feeling more like obligations than something you genuinely wanted to hold onto. Whenever Enjin stopped by the clinic, you somehow always managed to be busy—buried in paperwork, out on a call, already gone, or otherwise unavailable in ways that sounded reasonable enough not to be questioned.
You told yourself it wasn’t intentional. At least, that was the version you kept repeating to yourself. But avoidance has a way of becoming a habit once it starts feeling safer than honesty. And beneath every excuse, every carefully constructed reason, the truth remained painfully simple.
You were scared.
Not of him, more of what you were beginning to feel for him.
The date had ruined something you had carefully kept under control. It had shifted him out of the category you had tried so hard to keep him in—temporary, uncomplicated, unattached and placed him somewhere far more dangerous. Somewhere, real and real things had never stayed.
That was the problem. Not the flowers. Not the bookstore. Not the kiss that still replayed in your head at the worst possible moments, lingering long after you wanted it gone.
The problem was that you had started wanting more. Wanting the consistency, wanting the comfort of someone who kept coming back and stayed.
Most of all, wanting him.
The moment you realized that, your instincts did what they always did when something began to matter too much. They pulled away before loss could decide for you.
Enjin noticed eventually.
Of course he did.
At first, he didn’t push. He adjusted around your distance with a kind of patience you hadn’t expected from him, giving you space because he thought it was what you needed. His messages became lighter, easier to reply to. His calls become less frequent. He stopped appearing at the clinic unannounced, stopped teasing you about how terrible you were at answering your choker.
But patience still has limits.
And after a while, even he began to feel it.
The distance.
The hesitation.
The fact that every time he reached for you lately, it felt like you had already taken another step back.
**
Then one day, while avoiding him, you saw him by accident.
That was the worst part because if it had happened intentionally, maybe you could have prepared yourself better. Or maybe you could have looked away before your thoughts had the chance to spiral into something ugly.
Instead, it happened all at once. You were crossing the street after work, exhausted and distracted, barely paying attention to anything around you until a familiar figure caught your eye across the road.
Enjin.
You recognized him immediately…
And beside him— a woman.
She stood close to him, relaxed in a way that implied familiarity, her posture easy beside his as though being near him required no effort at all. Around his age too. Younger than you. Sharp-looking, confident, carrying herself with the kind of effortless composure that made something unpleasant twist low in your stomach almost instantly.
They were talking. Not intimately. Not suspiciously. Just comfortably.
Somehow, that hurt more.
She said something that made him laugh softly, and the sound struck harder than it should have. It wasn’t jealousy over the laughter itself. It was how natural he looked standing beside her, as if she belonged in his world in ways you never quite knew how to .
Your chest tightened before your thoughts could catch up, and suddenly, every insecurity you had been trying to suppress rushed to the surface all at once.
Of course.
Of course, this happened.
Why wouldn’t it?
Someone like him was never going to stay fixated on someone like you forever. Not when there were people who fit beside him more easily, people who existed naturally within his life without all the hesitation, while you stood at the edge of everything, constantly second-guessing whether you belonged there at all.
You looked away before either of them could notice you, and you kept walking, but the image stayed with you anyway, burned into your mind, lodged painfully somewhere beneath your ribs.
After that, it replayed itself relentlessly, filling every silence you left unanswered. The way she leaned toward him. The way he didn’t step away. The ease between them.
Your mind built entire conclusions from seconds of observation because that was easier than sitting with uncertainty. You didn’t know who she was. Didn’t know her name. Didn’t know that she had already existed in Enjin’s life long before you in the most ordinary way possible.
You didn’t know she was Semiu.
A colleague.
A friend.
Someone he trusted professionally and absolutely nothing beyond that.
But none of that mattered because your mind had already chosen a version of the story that felt safer to believe. Safer because the hurt felt familiar. Predictable. If he had already moved on, then at least you could leave first before hope had the chance to turn into something worse.
So you leaned harder into the distance after that.
Calls unanswered.
Messages ignored.
Excuses quietly stacking on top of each other until silence became the only thing left between you.
And Enjin, for the first time since meeting you, had no idea what happened.
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At first, Enjin tried to be patient.
He told himself you were overwhelmed with work, exhausted from the clinic, distracted by responsibilities that had nothing to do with him. So, he adjusted the way he always did, giving you room without making you feel cornered by it.
But distance changes shape when it stretches too long. What starts as space eventually begins to feel like avoidance, and avoidance has a way of becoming personal no matter how reasonable the excuses sound.
During the first few days, Enjin tells himself he’s imagining it. People get busy. Schedules shift. Emergencies happen. You work in a clinic, not an office, with predictable hours and uninterrupted lunch breaks. Rationally, he understands that, but rational explanations begin losing weight after the fourth unanswered call.
The realization settled slowly, then all at once. You weren’t just busy, you were pulling away from him deliberately and by the time he showed up at the clinic that evening, he was done pretending not to notice.
After the third visit, where someone politely tells him, “She just stepped out,” the pattern becomes difficult to ignore.
After another message left on read for so long, it begins to feel intentional.
The first time, he lets it go.
The second time, he waits outside longer than he should, leaning against the wall across the street while patients drift in and out beneath the fading evening light.
You never appear.
By the third day, the truth sharpens into something undeniable.
You are avoiding him.
And somehow, that realization bothers him far more than he expects.
Not because of wounded pride.
Not because he’s angry.
But because everything between you had felt so honest before this, and the sudden distance leaves him disoriented in a way he doesn’t know how to explain.
The receptionist has started recognizing him now.
“…she’s not in today,” she said gently one afternoon before he even had the chance to ask.
Enjin nodded once.
“Right.”
He stops asking where you are after a while because the answers have become painfully predictable.
Out on rotation.
Different branch.
Emergency call.
Busy.
Always busy.
“Do you want to wait?”
“…no,” he answered, but he lingered anyway. Just for a moment too long before forcing himself to leave.
The next day, he comes earlier.
“She stepped out a few minutes ago.”
Another visit later that evening.
“She already left.”
A choker call. Straight to silent.
Another.
This time, you answer—but barely.
“…I’m busy.”
Short. Distant. Gone before he can say anything meaningful back. He stared at the dead line for several seconds afterward.
“…right,” he muttered quietly. He doesn’t call again that night.
By the end of the week, frustration has settled beneath his skin—not loud or explosive, but heavy enough that even the others begin noticing something is off.
“You look like you wanna punch a wall,” Rudo comments casually one evening.
Enjin barely reacts. “Maybe later.”
The joke lands flat because his thoughts are somewhere else entirely. With you. Always with you. And the worst part is that he still doesn’t understand why this is happening.
Then finally, he gets his answer.
He’s outside one of the buildings near the lower district, talking to Semiu about an upcoming assignment, when something shifts instinctively in his chest, subtle enough that most people wouldn’t notice it.
But he does. His gaze lifts automatically.
Across the street— you.
For half a second, your eyes meet. Then you look away immediately. And walk.
Too quickly. Too deliberately. Like seeing him physically hurts. Enjin goes still.
“…what?” Semiu asked, glancing toward him.
But he barely hears her because everything clicks into place with brutal clarity.
The unanswered calls.
The disappearing acts.
The distance.
You saw him with another woman and decided the story before he even had the chance to explain it.
“…you’ve gotta be kidding me,” he exhales under his breath.
Not angry, just baffled because somehow this entire time, while he’d been trying to figure out why you were slipping away from him, you had already convinced yourself he was halfway gone.
After that, he stops pretending patience will fix this.
If you’re going to run from him, fine.
He’ll corner you properly this time.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
A few days later, Enjin walks into the clinic again. The familiar chime above the door cuts softly through the quiet lobby, but before he even makes it fully past the entrance—
“She’s out today.”
The receptionist said it automatically, still focused on sorting through paperwork behind the desk as though this had already become part of her routine.Something faintly amused flickers across Enjin’s expression despite everything.
“…damn,” he exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “Missed her again?”
Only then does the receptionist glance up properly, offering him an apologetic smile. “She’s been covering external rotations lately.”
“Yeah,” he replied lightly. “I noticed.” The words sound casual enough, but the weight beneath them sits differently because at this point, even he knows this isn’t a coincidence anymore.
For a second, he lingers near the counter, gaze drifting toward the hallway that leads deeper into the clinic.
Quiet.
No sign of you anywhere.
And yet—
something in his chest told him you’re here. Listening. He doesn’t know why he feels so certain about it. Maybe it’s hope, maybe stubbornness, or maybe he’s simply gotten used to sensing you before he sees you. Either way, he trusts it enough to try.
Even if you’re avoiding him, you’re still close enough to hear him if he says the right thing. Enjin exhaled softly through his nose before straightening again.
“Well,” he said a little louder this time, enough for the sound to travel farther into the clinic than necessary, “guess I really picked the wrong day to show up.”
The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look. “You can leave a message if you want.”
“Nah.” He thinks about it briefly, then shakes his head once. “I’ll be gone starting tomorrow anyway. Mission out of town.” His tone stayed deliberately easy. “Probably a full week.” The words settle into the quiet space intentionally, offered to the room rather than the receptionist herself.
Because some stubborn instinct keeps telling him you’re somewhere nearby, listening without letting yourself be seen. And if that’s true, then he wants you to hear this from him instead of someone else.
The receptionist blinks. “A whole week?”
“Unfortunately.” A small grin tugs at the corner of his mouth, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Try not to miss me too much.”
She laughed softly. Enjin glanced toward the hallway one more time. Something unreadable shifted briefly across his face before he buried it just as quickly beneath familiar ease.
“…see you around,” he said casually, slipped his hands into his pockets, and walked back out of the clinic. The door closed behind him with a soft click.
And somewhere farther inside the building, your grip tightens around the files in your hands before you even realize it.
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
The next morning, the clinic door opened quietly behind you, the faint chime cutting through the stillness of the reception area. You barely make it two steps inside before a familiar voice cuts cleanly through the silence.
“You’re hard to find lately.” Your heartbeat stumbles so hard it almost hurts, and you turn too quickly.
Enjin is already there, leaning against the counter like he’s been there long enough to blend into the silence, posture relaxed in a way that feels almost unfair. But his eyes are anything but casual. They’re fixed entirely on you—steady, unreadable, like he’s decided there’s no point pretending anymore.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
“…I thought you were leaving for a mission.” One corner of his mouth lifts faintly.
“So you were listening.” That simple observation makes something tighten in your chest. You look away first, setting your bag down with more focus than necessary, as if routine can steady you.
“I just heard someone mention it,” you replied quickly.
“Mm.” He doesn’t sound convinced. He also doesn’t push it further—just watches you, like he’s decided words alone won’t fix anything anymore.
The clinic suddenly feels too small. Too aware of itself. You busy your hands with your bag, setting it down with unnecessary precision—anything to avoid his gaze, because looking at him directly feels like stepping off balance. Enjin watched the entire thing unfold silently before speaking again.
“I went by the clinic four times,” he said eventually.
Your hands stilled briefly before you forced them to continue.
“They kept saying you were out.”
You don’t respond.
“I called.”
You said nothing.
“Got voicemail,” he continues. “Or ‘I’m busy.’ That’s all I got.”
Something uncomfortable shifts in your chest, but you keep your gaze lowered.
“…I have been busy,” you said quietly.
Enjin studied you for a long moment.
Not angry.
Not cold.
Just tired of being kept at arm’s length.
“No,” he finally said. “You’ve been avoiding me.”
The bluntness leaves nowhere to hide.
“…I’m not.”
Your voice comes out steady, but you feel the weight of it falter anyway. A soft exhale leaves him through his nose, almost humorless.
“You are,” He continued. “But not because you stopped wanting to see me.”
That lands with terrifying precision, making your eyes lift toward him before you can stop yourself. And for once, there’s no teasing in him now. No ease to hide behind. Just something plain and honest that feels harder to argue with. Just something honest enough to feel unguarded.
“You saw me with someone.” The words drop cleanly into the space between you.
Your stomach dropped, and the silence answers him loud enough.
Enjin dragged a hand through his hair slowly, gaze dropping for a second before returning to yours.
“…and instead of asking me about it, you disappeared.”
Your fingers curl at your side.
“She looked…” Your voice catches before you can steady it. “…right for you.”
“What does that even mean?” His brows knitted together immediately.
“She fits,” you replied timidly. “Closer to your age. Comfortable around you. She looked like someone who belonged in your world. Like someone who made sense there.”
A faint, disbelieving breath leaves him, more confused now, like he can’t understand how you reached that conclusion without speaking to him first.
“That’s what this is about?” A disbelieving breath escaped him.
“What else would it be?” Frustration slips through despite you trying to hold it back. “You don’t stay anywhere, Enjin. You said it yourself.”
He doesn’t answer right away, and that alone makes your chest feel heavy.
“And you decided how this ended based on that?”
“You looked happy.” you admitted, almost reluctantly.
“I was happy,” he said immediately. “I was talking to a friend.”
That makes you flinch because the answer sounds so simple, and you so badly want to believe it.
“She’s a colleague,” he added. “Semiu, that's her name, that’s all.”
The simplicity of it makes your chest sink in a way you didn’t expect. No hidden meaning. No alternative story. Just reality, stated plainly. And somehow, that hurts more than your assumptions.
Silence stretches through the room afterward. You don’t know what to say anymore, so instead you let your gaze drift anywhere but him—the floor, the wall beside the counter, your own hands—everywhere except his eyes.
“You didn’t ask,” he said again, softer now. “You didn’t even give me the chance to stay.” That hits like pressure against an old bruise. “You just decided for both of us.”
That makes your jaw tighten.
“I’ve seen how this ends,” you say quietly. “…people leave,” you whisper, fists clenched at your sides like you’re holding yourself together.
“I know.”
You blinked at the answer, as it came out from him way too fast and too honest. Enjin exhales, gaze dropping briefly before returning to you.
“I know they do,” he repeated. “That’s exactly why I never stayed anywhere.”
Something in his voice shifts—not louder, just deeper in a way that carries more weight than before.
“When I was younger, I thought everything came with a price. If someone helps you, you owe them. If someone’s kind to you, there’s always a reason waiting behind it.”
Your breathing slows without you noticing, and you don’t interrupt him.
“Then you treated my injuries like it was the most normal thing in the world.”
The memory flickers between you both—your hands tending to him, no expectation attached, no conditions hidden beneath it.
“You didn’t ask for anything back,” he said, his expression easing as the memory settled over him. His eyes softened first, then a small smile tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth before he even seemed to realize it was there. “Not from me. Not from anyone.”
Another step closer.
“I kept waiting for there to be a catch.” He admits, “For there to be something I missed.” A faint, almost reluctant softness touches his expression. There’s barely any space left between you now.
“It never came.” His gaze holds yours.
Your eyes sting unexpectedly.
“And somewhere along the way,” he admitted, his gaze lingering on you a second too long, “I realized I kept coming back here because of you.”
It feels like even time has stopped, yet your pulse pounds loudly beneath your ribs.
“So don’t stand there and tell me you’re not someone I stay for,” he said, something sharper underneath his calm gaze fixed on you.
“…you’ll get tired of me eventually.” The words slip out before you can stop them, heavy with something lodged too deep in your throat.
Enjin goes completely still. Then a faint, almost disbelieving laugh leaves him.
“You really think that’s why I’m here?”
You can’t answer because part of you still believes it, still expecting disappointment like muscle memory. Enjin’s expression shifts. Something softer breaks through the surface—something real, unpolished.
“I’ve had excitement,” he said. “It doesn’t last.” His gaze holds yours fully. “But you do.”
“…I was scared.” That breaks something open inside your chest, you look away first, breathing unevenly.
“I know.” The gentleness of the answer nearly undoes you.
Then softer “…I am too.”
Your head lifts immediately. That surprises you more than anything else he’s said tonight. Enjin lets out a quiet breath, shoulders loosening slightly like the admission itself cost him something.
“I don’t know how to stay,” he admitted. “Not properly.”
He steps closer. Close enough that your heartbeat feels impossible to hide.
“But I’m still here.” The words settle heavily between you.
“And I keep choosing to come back.”
Your chest aches because he has, every single time.
“…I noticed,” you whispered.
“Yeah?” A faint smile tugs at his mouth—softer than anything you’ve seen from him in weeks.
You nod once, a small and honest nod.
“…you stayed.”
Enjin looks at you like that was never even a question.
“Told you I would.”
And this time, for the first time since all of this began, you stop preparing for him to leave, because he becomes the first person who feels like he might actually stay.
The air between you doesn’t change immediately. The room doesn’t feel tense anymore in the way it did before.
It doesn’t rush. It doesn’t collapse. It simply shifts—quietly, like something that has been held too tightly for too long, finally being allowed to loosen its grip.
There is still distance between you and Enjin, but it doesn’t feel defensive now. It feels like something that has finally run out of reasons to keep existing.
Nothing about the room feels different, and yet everything between you and Enjin does.
He’s still close. Closer than before, actually.
But this time, there’s no tension pretending to be distance. No hesitation disguised as restraint. Just the two of you standing in the aftermath of everything finally being said out loud.
You stand there for a moment longer than necessary, as if your body is waiting for your mind to catch up to what just happened. Everything he said still lingers in you—the way he didn’t leave, the way he came back again and again, the way he stayed even when you were already preparing for absence.
Your chest still carries the echo of it—fear, recognition, the strange relief of being seen without being corrected. It feels like fear you never questioned.
“I kept waiting for you to prove me right,” you admit quietly. A faint shift crosses his expression.
“And did I?” he asks.
“No.” You shake your head once.
That single word seems to settle something in him more than any longer explanation ever could. Silence follows, but it’s no longer heavy. It feels emptied—cleared of everything that used to sit between you without permission.
He studies you for a moment longer than necessary, like he’s still adjusting to the idea that you’re not stepping away.
Then, softer than before—
“I don’t know how to do this properly,” he said. There’s no defense in it. No performance. Just honesty stripped down to its most unfamiliar form. “I keep thinking if I stay too long,” he continued, “you’ll decide I don’t belong here.”
That makes something in your chest feel heavy, but not as much as it used to, because this time, you understand it.
“I thought the same thing about you,” you admitted. That earns a quiet exhale from him—something almost relieved, like the distance between your fears was never as wide as it looked.
For a moment, neither of you speaks. Not because there’s nothing left to say, but because nothing else needs to be solved. You take a small step forward without fully deciding to. He doesn’t move away. He just watches you—carefully, like he’s letting you choose the direction of something he’s no longer trying to control.
“I don’t want to keep guessing anymore.” Your voice comes out lower than you expect.
“Then don’t,” he said. Simple and immediate.
Not a promise. Not a declaration, but a permission. That’s what it feels like. Something in your chest finally stops bracing.
Enjin closed the distance. It isn’t dramatic, nor is it rushed. It’s just the end of everything that kept refusing to resolve itself.
Your hand catches lightly at his shirt—not pulling him in, just anchoring yourself in something real enough not to disappear. He responds instantly after that, like the hesitation was never about wanting, only waiting.
His hand rises to your back, steady and careful, as if he’s still afraid that sudden movement might break the moment, but nothing breaks. The kiss is unhurried, not because it lacks intensity—but because it no longer needs to prove anything.
It carries everything that was never said properly: the waiting, the misreading, the quiet assumption that love always comes with an exit.
And then it stops being theory.
It becomes real.
His breath shifts against yours, uneven but controlled, like he’s holding onto the last thread of restraint he doesn’t actually need anymore. Your fingers tighten against his shirt—not out of fear, but because you don’t want him to pull away.
When he deepens the kiss, it isn’t demanding.
It’s confirming as if he’s making sure you’re still here in the only way he trusts right now. And you are. Fully. Undeniably.
When you finally pull away for a breath, it isn’t because either of you moves first. It’s because staying there takes a different kind of courage than either of you knows how to hold.
His forehead rests lightly against yours.
“…still here,” he murmured.
It isn’t a reassurance. It’s a fact he’s repeating to himself as much as to you.
“I know.” You exhaled slowly, fingers loosely intertwined with his, as if neither of you is ready to let go yet.
And this time, the words don’t sound like fear, preparing for loss. They sound like something that has already chosen to stay.
꒰ ʀɪᴅᴇ ᴏʀ ᴅɪᴇ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ enjin is your best friend… until one day you’ve a date.
enjin had once punched a man for you before he even knew your name - that was the kind of friendship the two of you had.
despite you being a woman there was nothing sweet about. he didn’t treat you like some delicate flower, or some damsel in distress.
you were his best friend, and the two of you were loud wherever you went. violent sometimes too.
the kind of best friends that shoved each other into walls while laughing. the kind that stole food off each other’s plates with zero hesitation. the kind that survived the pit together and came out of it meaner, rougher, inseparable.
everyone in the cleaners knew it too.
“those two are freaks,” riyo once muttered after watching you and enjin wrestle over the last fried dumpling until both of you ended up crashing through a chair.
you had your arm around enjin’s neck, trying to choke him out while he barked laughter loud enough to shake the room.
“tap out then,” you grunted.
“eat shit.”
“you first.”
“you literally bite people when you lose,” he accused and… yeah.
“only you.”
enjin looked the fucking happiest when he was with you. a bit like a golden retriever getting snacks.
freer too, like the weight on his shoulders stopped crushing him for a little while, and the umbrella didn’t feel so heavy.
the thing was that you two spent almost every second together once the missions were over. if one disappeared, everyone automatically assumed the other one was nearby.
even when you fought (you did that a lot), and you were mad at each other you still were attached by the hip. back to back, spitting insults over the shoulders like some damn five years olds.
you sat on rooftops together drinking cheap liquor straight from the bottle. you patched each other’s wounds without gentleness. you stole cigarettes from each other’s mouths. shared meals. shared blankets. shared silence.
one night, after a mission nearly went wrong, enjin showed up at your room bleeding through his side. you opened the door, took one look at him, and sighed.
“you’re getting blood on my floor again.”
“missed you too.”
then he nearly collapsed forward. you caught him with a curse, dragging his heavy body inside while he laughed weakly into your shoulder.
“you’re huge,” you complained.
“you love it.”
“i’m about to leave you outside for garbage collection, fatass.”
“wouldn’t be your first crime.”
you stitched him up sitting on the bathroom sink while he hissed through clenched teeth. that old drama queen.
“hold still.”
“you’re sewing me like an ugly sweater.”
“that’s because you move like an ugly sweater.”
“mean.”
“you’ll live.”
“that’s all you got to say after i almost died?”
you snorted. “if you died, i’d kill you myself.”
enjin smiled, because that sentence meant more coming from you than anyone else.
you stayed awake with him afterward, both of you sitting on the floor with your backs against the bed. his shoulder pressed against yours while rain hammered outside.
rain was bad anyway. rain also meant sleepless nights
at some point he handed you the bottle.
at some point his head dropped onto your lap.
at some point you fell asleep too.
that was normal. everything with you was normal, even the disgusting parts.
… especially the disgusting parts.
“you drool like a damn animal,” enjin groaned one morning.
you blinked awake against his chest. “huh?”
“my shirt’s soaked.”
“you snore into my ear like a dying engine.”
“you elbowed me in your sleep.”
“you deserved it somehow.”
“see? evil.”
“still sleeping here tonight?”
“obviously.”
you were tangled together on his mattress like survivors after war. your leg thrown over his waist. his arm numb underneath your body. neither of you moved away.
nobody from the cleaners understood it.
semiu once stared at the two of you sharing a cigarette outside headquarters and finally asked, “so are you together or what?”
you and enjin looked at each other, then burst into laughter. the one where tears appeared in your eyes and you grunted so cutely.
“you hear this shit?” he wheezed.
“she thinks we’re romantic,” you gasped.
“that’s insulting.”
“actually offensive.”
semiu looked irritated. “you sleep in the same bed.”
“yeah.”
“you hold hands sometimes.”
“that’s tactical.”
“you literally kissed his forehead yesterday.”
you blinked and enjin blinked too. alright, that creeped semiu out.
“had a fever.”
“thank you,” you added immediately.
semiu walked away muttering curses under her breath. then went straight to gossip it what she witnessed to gris. he was just as confused as the rest.
meanwhile neither of you thought about it again, because this thing between you had become its own creature years ago.
it was too wild to label and too familiar to question.
enjin knew how many scars you had without looking. you knew every single expression hidden underneath his mask.
he knew when your smile was fake. you knew when his anger came from fear instead.
there were nights he couldn’t sleep unless he heard you breathing nearby. there were missions where you only survived because his voice screamed your name fast enough.
you trusted each other with the real ugly things. the nightmares of his past and your rage that you couldn’t protect him back then.
one particularly horrible night, after losing people during cleanup, enjin came back drunk enough to stumble. you found him sitting outside headquarters alone in the rain.
in the fucking rain. enjin, your best friend, the man who hated rain more than anything, sat in the rain. his umbreaker unopened.
that scared you shitless.
but you sat next to him and if you’d sit here the whole night you wouldn’t mind. he looked so exhausted and everything hurt in you.
“hey.” you nudged your shoulder against his.
nothing.
“enjin.”
his voice came rough. “you ever get tired?”
“all the time,” you whispered.
“no.” he swallowed. “tired of surviving.”
the rain soaked both of you. you could’ve answered honestly and said yes. because sometimes you did, even when you’d never leave him behind.
“well,” you muttered, “kinda hard to die when i still owe you money.”
a laugh broke out of him suddenly. it sounded so ugly, so raw and real. you hated it as much as you loved it.
“you’re so stupid.”
“ride or die, remember?”
that made him finally look at you and there was that dangerous quietness in his eyes again. he loved you in a language neither of you had learned yet.
before any of you could dwell on it he reached over and shoved your face. in return you smacked the strand of hair that somehow stuck out at the top of his head.
“you’re still buying me food tomorrow.”
okay. now you had to shove him. all bets are off. “go to hell.”
“only if you come too.”
“hah! you thought i’d let you go alone? nope. we’re in this together.”
and maybe that was the problem, because shit was about to hit the fan.
let’s start from the beginning, alright?
two weeks after that rainy night you met someone. wasn’t love at first sight, you weren’t silly like that. but despite you wearing one of enjin’s old shirts and haven’t washed your hair in three days this man flirted with you.
so yeah. enjin was about to become a hater, because he fucking hated to hear your date’s name.
… okay, that was dramatic. it mildly annoyed him. irritated. yes. he was deeply, irrationally irritated.
“his name’s haru,” you corrected while pulling boots on near the headquarters entrance. “not hiro.”
“whatever.”
“you’ve called him four different names.”
“because i don’t care enough to remember.”
you snorted. “you’re acting like he murdered your family.”
enjin leaned against the wall with crossed arms. “i just think anyone who slicks their hair back that much is hiding something.”
“he’s literally a mechanic.”
“exactly. suspicious profession.”
“that makes no sense.”
“it makes perfect sense.”
the truth was: enjin had known about the date for three days and had been in a terrible mood ever since.
the others didn’t notice a change or they did. who the fuck knows. important was that enjin became a mopey motherfucker.
he got rougher during sparring. smoked more cigarettes. snapped faster at people. slept less. didn’t sleep in your bed anymore.
apparently you also weren’t the brightest candle on the cake, because you kept mentioning the date’s name. and every time you mentioned the date, something ugly twisted in his chest. something real ugly roared in there and wanted out.
it made him feel insane, because this was you - his best friend and ride or die.
of course you’d date eventually. of course you’d meet people. hell, he whored around like he got paid for it and you never complained.
why did you never complain? except when he smelled like cheap perfume and pussy juices. huh????
anyway.
why did it suddenly feel like standing at the edge of something collapsing?
why did he keep imagining another man in your room?
another man making you laugh. another man touching you.
enjin hated it so much his jaw hurt from grinding his teeth. he might actually threw up on you anytime soon. would be only fair since you liked to throw up on his boots when you had a drink too much.
even steven.
“you think this shirt works?” you asked suddenly.
he looked up and immediately regretted it. you wore one of those tighter tops that showed the shape of your body without trying too hard. casual. pretty. effortless in a way that punched the air out of him unexpectedly.
his stomach dropped. fuck you.
“why’re you staring?” you asked.
“i’m not.”
“you absolutely are.”
“ugly shirt.”
“you’re jealous because i look good.”
“you look like you’re about to scam someone.”
you laughed so hard you snorted like a pig. fuck, that laugh. he loved that laugh.
then he looked away. enjin didn’t look away. never. that wasn’t his thing. you narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
“you sick or something?”
“sick of you,” he replied.
“ooooha,” you gasped. “you’ve been weird all week.”
“i’m always weird.”
“not like this.”
you stepped closer, squinting at him while grabbing his jaw roughly between your fingers. normally enjin would’ve shoved you away instantly and then you’d roughhouse on the floor until some clothing tore. or someone bled.
instead he froze weirdly and since you found him so weird you put your hand on his forehead.
“you got a fever?”
there it was again - that awful tight feeling in his chest. enjin slapped your hand away harder than intended.
“i’m fine.”
okay. nothing was fine and you hated these moments where you couldn’t read him.
“you sure?”
the concern in your voice nearly killed him. so he did what he always did when emotions got too close - he grinned.
rewind. REWIND.
you actually hated this mean, ugly, crooked grin he showed now. it was fake, but you knew pushing him now would only lead to bad things.
it happened once and you hadn’t talked to him for a week.
“worried about me, sweetheart?”
you hid the cringe. you weren’t sweetheart or any other dumb nickname. he called you mostly by your name or a shortened version of it. but no. nope.
“there he is,” you sighed dramatically. “thought someone kidnapped you.”
“please. i’d escape.”
“your personality alone would make them return you.”
“true.”
the weirdness passed or pretended to, until later that night. because apparently you still didn’t understand. you dumb little thing.
enjin sat in your room sprawled across your bed while you dug through clothes, muttering angrily to yourself.
“you own too much garbage,” he commented.
“says the man wearing the same coat for six years.”
“it’s sentimental.”
“it smells like smoke and bad decisions.”
“which is sentimental.”
you threw a shirt at his face and he caught it lazily. he was about to throw it at your head when you suddenly sat next to him.
“enjin.”
“hm?”
“i need a favor.”
“depends.”
you looked strangely serious now and that immediately made him nervous. sure, you had your serious moments, but that was a strange one. what the hell?
“what favor?”
you hesitated. your mouth opened, then closed, then opened. you might had a stroke.
“teach me how to kiss,” you blurted out suddenly.
silence.
enjin stared at you like you had lost the plot completely. then he full on belly laughed. “ain’t no way.”
“i’m serious.”
“you’re asking me?”
“yes.”
“why?”
“because i trust you.”
the laughter died instantly. you looked genuinely embarrassed now, rubbing the back of your neck.
“i just…” you muttered. “i don’t wanna look stupid tomorrow.”
tomorrow. the date. something hot and ugly flared in enjin’s chest again.
“you’ve never kissed anyone?” he asked.
“not properly.”
“huh.”
the manwhore and the virgin - a match made in heaven. or hell.
you shoved his shoulder. “don’t make it weird.”
“i’m trying not to.”
“please?”
enjin rubbed a hand down his face. “this is a terrible idea.”
“why?”
see? the lights were on, but nobody was home.
and because he already felt like tearing apart a man he’d never met. your lips was all he’d been thinking about for three days straight and if… if he kissed you once he wasn’t sure he’d stop.
instead he groaned, “you’re unbelievable.”
he grabbed your chin suddenly and you gasped softly. the sound alone almost was his undoing.
“relax,” he murmured automatically.
you looked at him with wide eyes, trusting. you trusted him so much. fuck fuck fuck.
he leaned forward slowly, giving you the chance to pull back. a part of him begged you’d do so.
now it was supposed to be quick. a stupid little peck to show how to angle the face and that your noses should never bump.
that was okay for friends helping each other, right?
oh boy.
his lips brushed yours softly, warm. then he pulled back already and it should be over.
the room went dead silent.
enjin could hear your breathing. could you hear his heart in return?
“that’s it?” you whispered.
his eyes flicked down to your mouth again as he swallowed hard. “yeah.”
“oh.”
something about your disappointed little sound snapped the last thread of his self-control. you were about to learn.
enjin kissed you harder this time. your startled inhale went straight into his mouth.
suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore.
his hand tightened against your jaw while your fingers grabbed his shirt instantly. you kissed him back without hesitation.
fuck, you were so messy and clumsy kissing him. went straight to his groin too.
years of affection buried underneath bruises and laughter and late nights came crashing out all at once.
enjin pushed you backward onto the mattress without even thinking. you made a soft noise against his mouth that nearly ruined him. his body pressed over yours automatically, one hand beside your head while the other gripped your waist tight enough to leave marks.
the kiss deepened and became so fucking hungry as he devoured your mouth. licked and bit and spit and everything in between.
he lost it all together when your fingers slid into his hair and enjin actually groaned roughly.
he’d been starving for your lips.
when he finally pulled away both of you were breathing hard. your lips swollen and his forehead pressed against yours.
he was so goddamn hard that one more kiss and he’d come untouched. and shit. is that your pussy he smelled? fuck. it was, wasn’t it?
then you whispered weakly, “i think you’re a really good teacher.”
enjin stared at you for one long second before he laughed breathlessly against your mouth. then his lips found yours again.
oh fucking hell.
it was over before it really started and you both could talk about it. or at least sort out your feelings for yourselves.
remember the date? yeah, it was still happening.
enjin actually hated it even more now.
look at you wearing perfume, making you smell all womanly and sweetly. and that you were nervous and stared like a lost puppy.
he hated the fact you spent twenty whole minutes asking him which earrings looked better like he was some kind of relationship expert. oh, and he especially hated the fact another man was about to touch you after that kiss.
that fucking kiss.
enjin had barely slept that night. every time he closed his eyes, he felt your mouth against his again. your hands in his hair. the tiny sound you made when he pinned you against the mattress. it replayed over and over until he thought he might genuinely lose his mind.
he actually had cummed so often that night that his dick was raw now. thank you very fucking much.
and you still went on the damn date, like you hadn’t shattered his entire universe the night before.
“relax your face,” you complained before leaving. “you look homicidal.”
“i’m homicidal.”
“you’re being dramatic.”
“you kissed me and now you’re leaving with another man.”
the sentence slipped out before he could stop it. you stopped in the doorway and enjin hated having a tongue. or vocal cords.
at least you had the dignity to blush. “i’ll be back later.”
the door shut. you really had left. holy shit.
enjin stared at the door for five whole seconds, then immediately punched the wall.
“fuck.”
gris found him thirty minutes later outside headquarters smoking aggressively enough to probably shorten his lifespan. if a heart attack wouldn’t get him first.
“you look horrible,” gris observed. chill as ever. fuck him too.
“go away.”
“ouch.”
enjin glared at nothing, because his thoughts were unbearable.
were you holding hands with that guy right now?
were you laughing?
was he touching your waist?
was he kissing you?
enjin’s stomach twisted violently. the cigarette snapped between his fingers.
“damn,” gris said. “you’re gone gone.”
“shut up.”
“you finally realized you’re in love with her?”
enjin shot him a murderous look. how dare he to speak that out loud.
gris raised both hands immediately. “okay. touchy subject.”
love. the word echoed unpleasantly in his head, because maybe that was the problem.
maybe this thing had stopped being friendship a long time ago and neither of you noticed because it had always been too messy to define.
enjin had loved you every single time he chose your side without hesitation. every time he slept easier hearing your breathing nearby. every time he thought: if she dies, i’ll burn this world down with her.
he’d been doomed for years.
“you know,” gris continued, “if she kissed you and still went on the date, she’s probably freaking out too.”
“not helping.”
“you look like you wanna hit someone.”
“i do.”
“her date?”
“yes.”
“see? love.”
enjin flipped him off. he actually considered lunging at him for shits and giggles. you know getting it out of the system, but then—
BANG.
the headquarters door slammed open so hard both men jumped. you stormed inside looking absolutely wrecked. your eyes were swollen red and your mascara was smeared.
for a split second enjin thought that man had done something to him and today he’d soak his entire soul in blood. and he’d laugh doing it.
at least until you marched straight toward him and started hitting him. you actually beat the ever loving shit out of his chest and shoulders.
“ow! hey!”
“you absolute asshole!” you screamed.
“what the hell happened?!”
“you ruined me!”
enjin grabbed your wrists before you could swing at his nose. he liked that one. still, you were crying so hard you could barely breathe.
gris wisely disappeared immediately.
“what happened?” enjin asked again, completely baffled.
“you!”
“me?”
“yes, you!”
your face crumpled even harder and then you shoved against his chest with a broken sound.
“you made me fall in love with my best friend!”
enjin stared at you, blinking. his entire brain genuinely stopped working. shut down. shut down.
“what?”
you looked furious that he didn’t immediately understand. you kicked his shin.
“with you, idiot!” you sobbed. “i’m in love with you!”
enjin’s mouth opened, but nothing to hear. you kept crying.
“i went there and he was nice and sweet and normal and then he tried to hold my hand and all i could think was that it wasn’t yours—”
his heart nearly exploded. it was happening. it was really happening. this wasn’t a drill.
“and then he kissed me and i hated it because he wasn’t you and now everything’s ruined—”
something hysterical bubbled up in enjin’s chest suddenly - a laugh.
he tried to stop it and failed horribly. you stared at him in betrayal while tears streamed down your face.
“are you laughing?!”
enjin bent forward wheezing. no, he wasn’t laughing about you. it was the relief that hit him so hard he thought he might collapse.
“you’re unbelievable,” he gasped.
“i’m having a crisis!”
“you’re in love with me?”
“stop sounding so happy about it!”
that only made him laugh harder. everything broke inside you and your expression fell completely.
“oh my—,” you whispered miserably. “you don’t feel the same.”
that wiped the laughter off his face instantly. no, no, no. you misunderstood and he needed to make you understand.
he grabbed your cheeks so fast you startled.
“hey,” he said firmly and your wet eyes lifted to his. “i’ve been in love with you so long i forgot there was supposed to be a before.”
your breath caught and enjin smiled. it was such a soft smile that you pouted, because it was so cute.
“i just didn’t realize you were too.”
you made the most wounded little noise he’d ever heard before crashing into him. enjin caught you automatically. your arms wrapped around his neck while you cried into his shoulder, still hiccuping angry tears.
“you’re so stupid,” you mumbled.
“you punched me.”
“you deserved it.”
“probably.”
he held you tighter, because he’d been waiting to do it properly for years. slowly he tilted your face up and you were so fucking wrecked. eyes swollen and mascara was even at your forehead.
the most beautiful disaster he had ever seen.
“you done crying?” he murmured.
“no.”
“good enough.”
his lips crashed to yours and you sobbed into his mouth. only made him smile like some idiot.
but the hesitation was gone and replaced by certainty as your fingers curled into his coat. and you kissed him back through shaky breaths and leftover tears.
enjin smiled wider against your mouth. when you accidentally laughed mid-kiss because you were still crying too hard, he kissed you again anyway.
your real first kiss. so fucking messy and tender and perfect. enjin won’t forget it until his last breath.
enjin’s widow inheriting the umbreaker and shortly before she uses it for the first time she hears enjin’s voice. “let’s wreck it, baby.” and everyone else sees her moving like enjin did and the faint shadow of him. a love so strong it even beat death.
Shitpost and Magic @was-it-you - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
