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"両面 宿儺 ✶ SUKUNA RYOMEN," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ she's literally a princess and he's the devil. what the fuck. ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა artist credits: @/f_tality0 on insta reblog / like 2 support ⃘໋ׅ♡ 𝑤.𝑐: 1.1k ⁀ ˳ ⟡
♡⏝ ⸝⸝ 𝓦ARNINGS ˖ ❝ sfw fluff crack she/her pronouns satoru, nobara, itadori & megumi cameo reader is sweet and popular sweet/innocent!reader bully!sukuna 2006 timeline reader & sukuna are like 17 they're in high school only tooth rotting fluff no curses au 2006 Japan references sukuna & gojo besties 2nd person perspective ❞
── #⃝ MINA'S NOTES ( 💬 ) gojo ver. masterlist <3
SUKUNA RYOMEN was the devils incarnate. No, like literally that's what people whispered and believed.
"I saw horns on his head, and he was talking about killing a duck," 4 year old Nobara whispered and told 4 year old Megumi and Itadori. Nodding and pursing her lips as she had learnt from Gojo when he was gossiping with Geto and Shoko, mimicking his behaviour. Itadori widened his eyes before gasping and placing his hands on his cheeks, "HE WHAT? WHAT THE HECK!?," he looked distraught before huffing and pouting, as if the sun was exploding. He couldn’t believe his uncle, who was only around 13 years older than him, was so evil.
"She obviously didn't see that, idiot," Megumi looked at him in annoyance, curling his upper lip. "And stop copying how my babysitter acts!" he scoffed before tackling Yuuji.
The rumours didn't start and end with 4 year olds though, almost everyone in Jujutsu high believed that Sukuna was to be feared and that he would curse you if you stared too long. Almost everyone anyways, since there were two big exceptions. One being the most popular boy in school, the boy who was famous on Mixi and owned a Blackberry before anyone else in Japan did.
Satoru Gojo.
"Don't look," a girl whispered to her friend, holding her hand tightly and staring ahead into her dark locker, while heavy footsteps passed behind them.
She was pursing her lips, about to turn back to check before Gojo came up behind them both, resting his arms over their shoulders and smiling happily. "Who're we hiding from?" He beamed.
Her frozen expression didn't give much away, while her friend grew flustered and quickly looked over her other shoulder, locking eyes onto the only figure who wasn't in uniform. His pink hair standing out, hands shoved in his pockets, lolling his head back with a big sigh.
"Satoru, stop following me," he glared, turning back only to look at the white haired menace.
“But whyyyyy? You’re my best friend!” He whined, pouting and playing along, quickly tagging along behind him and chatting to him non-stop about the new game he was playing online and how they should go to an internet café again soon.
Other students walking by quickly changed their course of direction, looked away, or started to empty out their pockets in case Sukuna Ryomen decided that they were the ones who were going to pay for his next expense. Bullying? Sukuna's minions made haibara fear for his life until he transferred to a different school, which in turn caused Nanami to resent him.
All was changed when one of the students smelled the roses in the air, quickly smiling and looking towards the school entrance.
"It's Y/N!" One of the girls happily pointed, while another ran up to give you a hug. "Y/N-channnn! How was your weekend?"
Unlike Sukuna, your reputation was written in a fancy cursive and written in a sparkly pink gel pen. You were a breath of fresh air to many students there, not a single student had a negative energy towards you. Rumours about you sounded like they were out of a fairytale, which is why you were listed as "most likely to be a princess" in the yearbook in your last year of secondary school.
"She gave me her ice cream when she heard about my failed test," a second year boy sighed dreamily, before looking towards the entrance for a glimpse of you. "Is she singing?" His friend questioned, raising a confused eyebrow. You lived up to your name, skipping towards the entrance and humming, while squirrels, birds, raccoons, stray cats and some deers followed behind. A hummingbird even resting on your shoulder and tweeting along.
"Alright now, make sure you all get along and don't get hit by cars, okay?" You smiled and brushed off the bird, blowing a kiss in the direction that the animals scurried off before entering the school gates.
"Do you think I have a chance with her? I think she smiled at me like… more than usual yesterday," a first year boy named Haruto scratched the back of his neck. Flushing from his cheeks, and making quick glances towards your approaching figure. His friends looked unconvinced, all sharing the same look and one of them even holding onto his backpack so that he didn't do anything rash.
"She smiles at everyone, plus I heard she has a boyfriend," one of them shrugged, sighing and watching your figure. It was like all of them were communicating telepathically, trying to discern if you had a boyfriend from the way you walked.
Haruto was about to approach, "I don't think she has—" before freezing and clenching his jaw tightly when someone came up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder tensely. His friends glancing over, only to take one look and be on their way, knowing there was nothing they could do.
"I'm pretty sure she has one." Sukuna mumbled, looking down at the younger boy with sharp eyes.
Haruto gulped, before nodding and looking up at the older boy shakily. "O-oh… sorry, I didn't know.." he mumbled, the air from his throat suddenly feeling like nails, increasingly hard to breathe in and out without sounding like a nervous wreck. "I'll g-go apologise to Gojo, sorry—"
"Gojo's not her boyfriend." Sukuna grumbled, tightening his grip on Haruto's shoulder, making the boy wince out. "I'm her boyfriend," he tsked down at him, narrowing his eyes, almost pouting before shoving the boy away and walking towards you.
People seeing what was happening were already pitying you and wishing that you'd stay safe.
Many people knew that you were dating Sukuna Ryomen, just as many people did not know. The reaction was always the same, whether they knew or not, whenever sukuna approached you. People looking at him in disdain, jealousy, anger, or even looking at you with pity.
"Poor girl, he's probably been manipulating her," whispers floated amongst the student body, people shaking their heads, teachers gossiping in their lounges. "She's too sweet for him, he doesn't deserve her!"
You knew the truth and Sukuna knew the truth.
"Hii!" You happily squealed, rushing up to him and hugging him. His body didn't stiffen or hesitate, as he'd gently wrap on arm around and pat your back, glancing back subtly so that no one saw him lose his edge. "…you're going to make me look like a softie," he whispered, flustered from seeing you, looking comically shy, trying to snarl down at you.
You blinked up at him curiously, tilting your head and playing dumb. "What edge? You're the cutest, most softest, sweetest and smartest guy I know!" You pinched his cheek, before humming and skipping past him, towards the steps of the entrance of the main building.
He paused, before pouting and quickly following after you.
ᢉ𐭩 — your boyfriend enjin is missing! but when you find him, something’s wrong…
a/n: 2p enjin hmu!!!
it’s one of your off days at cleaner’s hq, to which you’re content with just lazing around for the entirety of the day. team akuta’s got their day off, too, but something just doesn’t sit right with you.
their leader has been m.i.a. like, all day.
usually by now, enjin would be lazed on top of you, saying anything and everything to get underneath your skin. but his sudden absence and the fact that he’s quiet, no less, is worrying enough on his own.
so, you make the decision to go find your boyfriend. maybe semiu’s seen him.
“semiuuuu.” you call her name.
her gaze darts up to you, back to her adult magazine as she closes it, before back up to you. “what’s up?”
“have you seen enjin?”
she’s quiet for a moment, contemplating your question before shaking her head. “mm-mm. i haven’t seen him since this morning. but i did see him talking to bro earlier.”
“kay, thanks,” you throw over your shoulder, your feet immediately moving you to wherever bro may be. if you know him, he’s definitely with his team, team child. a team of little powerful monsters.
you wander the halls for a moment before finding him watching over dear and guita in the training room. his eyes find yours when you walk in, offering his gentle smile.
“hey, what brings you here?”
you give him a smile identical to his own. “hey bro, have you seen enjin?” you ask.
“i was just with him, actually.” he replies. “i heard him say that he was going to be in the common room.” typical enjin, wandering wherever his feet take him.
you head towards the common room once you give your gratitude to bro, pushing the doors to the common room open. the sight before you makes your breath hitch.
the team’s there. zanka, riyo, and rudo are all doing their own thing, dwelling in each other’s presences. but there’s someone there who’s completely different.
enjin.
he’s leaning against the wall, but instead of his golden locks, there’s raven in its place. amber is replaced with ruby red. his earrings are also red, and his tattoos are different— black in red instead of red in black. and the cherry on top?
his choker’s blue. since when are the chokers blue!?
“what the hell?”
all eyes in the room turn towards you.
riyo’s eyebrows quirk up. “what’s up with you? you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” “i might as well have,” you murmur. “enjin, what…”
his eyes narrow at you. “what? it’s just me.”
huh, his personality’s a little different too. a bit feistier than usual. “no it’s not.” you deny.
“what does that mean?” he barks.
“who are you and what have you done to my enjin??”
everyone’s staring at you like you grew two heads and four ears. zanka’s the next one to speak up. “he’s the same enjin. you sure you okay? didn’t hit your head?”
“how are you going to look at him and tell me he’s the same? he’s completely different!” you exclaim. “his hair’s black, his eyes are red, his tattoos are literally inverted?? look at him!” your hands gesture towards “enjin” frantically, frailing to make your point.
then another voice pitches in— rudo’s. “he’s… not?” your head snaps towards him in betrayal.
enjin finally decides to join the conversation, eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “it’s literally just me, boo.”
you blink once, twice, eyes darting towards everyone before landing on the carbon copy of your boyfriend. chuckling nervously, you take a few steps back and quickly turn out of the room, “enjin’s” eyes following you the entire time.
“what’s up with her?” you can hear their voices trail after you.
“dunno. maybe exhaustion.”
that is not enjin. how can they look at him and say that? he’s literally different.
“maybe i’m just tired.”
your feet take you to your room, head spinning. are they all pulling a prank on you? they have to be. or maybe you’re just hallucinating this whole thing. yeah, that’s got to be it.
not that you’re really complaining though, ‘cause he looked good.
a knock pulls you out of your thoughts. “baby?”
fuck, it’s the doppelgänger.
“you don’t get to call me that.” your voice is loud enough to carry across the door.
a sigh. “i don’t know what’s gotten into you, darling, but you better cut it out. lemme in.” his tone is demanding, enticing even.
it has you swinging the door open.
he’s leaning against your doorframe, eyes glaring down at you with an intensity that has you nearly squirming underneath. “y’gonna tell me what’s going on?”
your nose scrunches. “i’m not talking to a copy of my boyfriend.”
he pinches the bridge of his nose. “what the hell are you on about?”
“you tell me,” you bite back, emphasizing your words. “you’ve never had black hair, red eyes, and your tattoos were never black in red, and everyone’s acting like everything’s normal.”
enjin the doppelgänger stares at you, unblinking, before finally speaking up. “yeah, you’re crazy.” he takes two steps to close the distance between you. you attempt to take you steps back, but one of his hands dart out and catches your wrist.
“enjin—“
he tugs you towards him gently, but firm enough to put you two chest to chest. his other hand comes to your hip, pressing just enough for you to feel the heat through the fabric. you start to squirm, but his hold locks you into place.
“i know you love playing these stupid stunts of yours,” he begins huskily, eyes locked on to yours. “but i’m not playing your games today, angel.”
“you’re the one playing games.”
your eyes find something else in your room to look at, but the hand that had your wrist trapped comes to your jaw, tilting your head back. “look at me.”
he closes the distance slightly, his breath brushing at the stray strands of hair across your features. “it’s always been me. i’ve never had golden eyes or hair, different tattoos, or whatever the fuck you decide to come up with.”
you’re silent, free hand remains still in the air, unsure of what to do with it. your body itches to touch him, but it doesn’t sit with you touching some alternate version of your man, even if he is yours.
yet, depsite yourself, your hand comes into his raven locks, caressing and playing with the strands. it feels just like his, and his expression softens as soon as you relax enough to let yourself have this. “you…” your voice trails off.
he shuts the door with his foot before returning his attention to you. “there’s my girl. you just love being difficult with me, huh? should’ve known.”
although your bones tell you that is isn’t your enjin, your heart knows it is. even if it’s some kind of prank or alternate universe.
he closes the distance fully, lips pressing against yours with a gentle reverence that has your knees weak. he tastes of cigarettes and something faintly sweet, just like he usually does while your lips move with his in a familiar rhythm.
you sigh into the kiss as it deepens, arms coming around his neck to pull him closer, though there’s practically no space between the two of you. once of his hands come to cup the back of your head and hold you there.
enjin breaks the kiss by barely pulling away from you, a string of saliva left behind as evidence of your little session. “baby, let me just…” his voice is hoarse, one of his hands trailing underneath your shirt. you nod without any words, your own touch moving across the visible tattoos on his chest.
and just as enjin comes close to your chest—
you wake up.
it’s a slow process— you blink blearily, trying to become aware of your surroundings. then you notice someone’s arms around you, red in black tattoos.
you look up, and he’s already looking at you.
golden hair, amber eyes. the corner of his mouth is turned up, one dimple flashing. “morning, gorgeous.”
enjin. your enjin.
you stay unmoving for a moment or two, just taking him in before you find your voice. “you should dye your hair black.”
there's no space in the van! ; zanka x fem!reader ; just silly cartoonish fun
zanka thinks he isn't going to make it home alive today. he's going to go into cardiac arrest and die in the backseat of the cleaner's van, and the most shocking thing would be that it wasn't because of enjin's atrocious driving.
it would still be enjin's fault though.
and as much zanka admires and respects the blonde, he's already picturing his headstone inscribed with “CAUSE OF DEATH: ENJIN”. he's also decided to haunt the older man for the rest of eternity as a ghost once he dies. based on the current situation, that's going to occur in approximately the next five seconds.
zanka accidentally meets enjins's gaze in the rearview mirror and his face flushes bright red as he looks away.
“lighten up, zanka!” he laughs heartily, slapping the steering wheel. “not every day you get such a pretty girl on your lap.”
“don’t tease, enjin!” you scold, shifting your weight on zanka’s lap, “you’re so annoying.”
“alright, alright,” the blonde man chuckles, preparing to raise his hands in surrender before rudo yells at him to keep them on the wheel.
“it’s your fault there’s no space anyway.” you roll your eyes and fold your arms across your chest, which makes enjin gasp in mock horror.
“no way! blame rudo, he’s the one who brought back all this trash.”
“huh?! you told me to take as much as i could!” rudo retorts, his tone taking on a defensive edge as he pouts. then he looks at the way you’re precariously perched on zanka’s lap, your short skirt riding up your thighs just a little higher than normal, and his cheeks flush bright red, prompting him to dip his head and mutter, “...sorry.”
“i’m not the one you should apologise to,” a sigh slips past your lips, “poor zanka has to deal with me sitting on him for the whole ride.”
zanka, who has been focusing on very stoically staring out the window and not partaking in this conversation whatsoever, while simultaneously doing his best not to acknowledge your proximity because if he thinks about it for longer than 0.2 seconds he is almost certain he’s going to burst into flames right there and then, finally gives in, “i’m not that much of a weakling, this is nothing. i’m more worried about if you’re comfortable.”
“aw, thanks, zanka. i’m fine, though, i promise.” a gentle smile graces your features and you squeeze his knee as reassurance, which makes zanka draw in a sharp breath and start recounting all the times he got beaten up – the mental equivalent of a cold shower.
“i’m not going to say sorry to that guy!” rudo’s brows shoot up in disbelief. “he’s definitely super happy about this!”
“hm? is that true, z?” a wicked grin dances about your lips, your voice taking on that teasing lilt zanka’s come to both love and fear.
he freezes. then he seriously considers hiring an assassin to take rudo out right now. luckily, he’s saved from the burden of having to respond by enjin’s terrible lack of driving skills. unluckily, he might never get to respond again because the van proceeds to go airborne for at least a minute after enjin just zooms over a bump on the road at maximum speed. in the heat of the moment, zanka grabs your waist without thinking and holds you close, his only coherent thought being that he has to keep you safe.
miraculously, you all survive the abrupt flight, and enjin continues driving like nothing happened save for a stupid quip, “woah, that was crazy, wasn’t it? didn’t know the van had wings.”
and while rudo is busy shouting at enjin to learn how to drive better, zanka leans in to murmur, “hey, are you okay?”
“shouldn't have expected anything else from enjin, but yeah, i'm all good.” you reply, then you smirk, “thanks to you.”
“what do you-”
you look pointedly at the way his hands flex on your hips and zanka nearly beats the speed of light with how quickly he pulls them away, a million stuttered apologies pouring out all at once, “ah! i’m sorry, i just didn’t want you to get hurt, i swear i didn’t mean anything weird-”
your playful expression softens into one of pity as he continues bumbling around, and you sigh fondly before lifting both his hands and placing them right back on your waist. “i didn’t say to let go, silly.”
zanka.exe has stopped working.
and while you giggle about how steam is practically about to erupt from the top of zanka’s head, enjin and rudo share a secret fist bump – everything went according to plan.
the dialogue & prose in this is so unserious you can probably tell i had a lot of fun w it LOL
part 2 of Mom & Dad — a/n: this is a little ooc, i apologize
The shiny object hit the table with a tiny metallic clink. You froze. Enjin pretended to freeze.
That bastard was playing you! His large hand slapped over it, trapping it against the worn wood.
“Was that a ring?” your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the supposed humble cleaner.
“No.”
“It was literally a ring.”
“It was a circular object.”
“You dropped a ring, Enjin.”
“It could’ve been anything,” he shot back smoothly. “A piece of blinking trash. A very shiny nut.”
“It sparkled.”
“A lot of things sparkle. Fireworks. Semiu’s lipgloss. My personality.”
You stared. He stared back. Neither of you blinked, a silent war of narrowed eyes and amused ones erupted across the messy table.
Then - and you couldn’t believe your damn eyes - he slid it off the table and pocketed it.
You nearly launched yourself across the table, your chair scraping harshly against the floor. “Enjin.”
“Nope.”
“Enjin. Show me.”
“Nope.”
The grin spreading across his face should’ve been illegal. That damn crooked grin that usually meant he had either just set a dumpster on fire or planned something concerning.
“You absolute menace,” you hissed.
“Love you too, wife.”
You barely registered the nickname, because your heart was in your throat. Fuck, it hammered so violently.
A ring. Why did he have a ring? And why wasn’t he saying anything?
The privacy Enjin and you had lasted for a whole minute before chaos ensued. Riyo practically materialized beside the table, her eyes wide and gleaming with the feral energy of a predator scenting blood.
“Was that a ring?” she demanded, leaning in so close her nose almost touched Enjin’s shoulder.
“No.”
“It was.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It was.”
Corvus, who was a little noisy now too, quietly looked between the two of you. Follo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if he’d been shot, while Bro looked ready to explode from sheer sensory overload.
“You have a ring?!” Follo asked.
“I don’t.”
“You just dropped it!”
“I dropped a circular object.”
Rudo stepped into the room, crossing his arms and looking genuinely offended by the sheer audacity of the lie. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
Enjin didn’t even flinch. “Thanks, kid.”
Everyone started shouting at once. Questions, accusations, wild threats, and bizarre predictions filled the air like a hurricane. Semiu started taking bets on a scrap of paper. You never found out how she’d organized the odds so quickly, but the entire headquarters was losing its mind.
Meanwhile Enjin sat there looking infuriatingly pleased with himself, basking in the havoc he’d created.
Without a word of warning he stood up suddenly. His hand shot out to grasp your wrist as he started walking.
You stumbled after him, nearly tripping over your own feet. “Wait—”
“Nope.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“That’s not an answer!”
“It’s enough of one.”
“Enjin!”
He laughed loudly, the sound echoed through the hallway while the muffled yells of the team followed you down the corridor.
“If they come back engaged, I’m winning ten thousand!” Semiu’s voice faded as the heavy metal door slammed shut behind you.
And then it was just the two of you.
The city stretched around you beneath the cooling evening sky. Neon lights flickered along the streets. The air still carried the leftover warmth of the day, smelling faintly of grime, rain and dust.
And Enjin still held your hand. His fingers laced with yours. His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles and a soft shiver ran down your spine.
You wanted to tell him how you much you liked holding his hand. He wanted to tell that he never wanted to let go again.
But it would’ve broken the spell and so you stayed silent.
Eventually he turned down a narrow, shadowed side street. You frowned, pulling back slightly against his grip. “What are we doing here?”
“Patience.”
“I hate patience.”
“Liar.”
You did hate it, especially when he was involved, because an unpredictable Enjin was a dangerous thing for your sanity. And your heart.
The alley opened into a small, abandoned courtyard tucked away between towering, buildings. The space was covered in years of old graffiti. Color exploded across every wall. Names, abstract drawings and layers of fading paint stacked atop one another like history.
But right in the center was something else. A bright red heart filled the center of the wall. It was huge! You stared at it and then… the wind whooshed from your lungs with a sharp gasp.
Written inside the heart in thick, crude black paint were two names — yours and Enjin’s.
You looked at him so quickly your neck nearly snapped. “What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes drifting on the ground. For the first time since you’d known him this menace of a man looked nervous. The confident, untouchable Enjin was fidgeting. You weren’t sure the universe was prepared for such a thing.
“I might’ve painted it,” he muttered. “The names, I mean.”
“You what?”
“A while ago.”
“A while ago?!”
“Maybe.”
“Enjin!”
His laugh came out strained this time, almost embarrassed as he kicked a stray pebble. “I wasn’t planning on showing you.”
“Then why show me now?”
The question hung heavy between you. Enjin looked at the heart, then at you, then back at the heart. His jaw tightened. And for the first time since you’d met him he seemed uncertain. Scared even.
Then he reached into that pocket. Your pulse skyrocketed. Oh fuck.
When his hand came back out the ring was there. Silver. Simple. Beautiful.
Before your brain could even begin to process the sight Enjin dropped to one knee.
Everything stopped.
The city, the wind, every noise, your heart, your breath. Man, for sure everyone at the cleaner headquarters for sure held their breath too.
This can’t be, right?
Enjin watched you closely. Those normally always bright and teasing golden eyes of his were so serious.
“Y’know,” he whispered. “This wasn’t how I imagined doing this.”
You made a strange, choking sound in the back of your throat. He smiled, looking so damn vulnerable it almost hurt.
“I know we’re not together,” he continued shakily. “I know we’ve never gone on a real date. I know I’ve never kissed you. And I know this is probably insane.”
“It is,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision.
“Yeah.”
A tiny, breathless laugh escaped both of you.“Doesn’t change anything. I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”
His smile trembled as he tilted the ring toward you, the silver catching the light.
“And if everyone already thinks we’re married anyway… will you marry me?”
You didn’t think. You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
The answer exploded out of you instantly. “Yes, you idiot.”
Oh, he was relieved. He was so fucking relieved that his tense shoulders slumped. He jumped to his feet and his fingers were trembling as he put the ring on your finger.
“Oh fuck!” you crashed into him.
His arms wrapped around you tightly as he lifted you off the ground. He twirled you around while you laughed and cried into his neck.
“You’re insane.”
“I know.”
“We’re not even dating.”
“I know.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“You proposed before kissing me.”
Enjin paused mid-spin. You were both staring at each other and man, it was so fitting.
Kiss. Right. Kissing. The thing you both never had done, even when Enjin sometimes had stared at your lips like they owed him money.
Longing filled Enjin’s eyes and you were sure you looked the same at him. Resting your forehead against his you smiled as his hand came up to cup your face.
Then he whispered your name and it was your undoing.
You closed the distance first.
Nothing about the kiss was gentle. Months and maybe years of unspoken want and need didn’t leave space for anything soft. He still held you up. This time by the ass while your fingers tangled in his hair.
Your lips moved against each other frantically. His tongue licked into your mouth, teeth clinging together. But who cared.
You thought happiness defined you surviving this world and having an incredible team that loved and cherished you. You were wrong.
Happiness was Enjin and the ring on your finger.
You sobbed into his mouth and he slowed down the kiss. His tongue gently swiped along your lips, tasting the tears and you.
The kiss slowly broke.
“Shh,” he put his forehead against yours.
You laughed quietly through the tears as he put you down on your feet. His hand engulfing yours again as he stared at the ring, then back at your face. That crooked smile slowly made a comeback.
“Wife.”
You burst out laughing, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”
By the time Enjin and you returned to the headquarters it was dark outside.
You should’ve known something was wrong, because it was suspiciously quiet. Except for some traitorous footsteps running toward the common room.
Enjin narrowed his eyes, his hand flattening against the door. “That’s concerning.”
“Very.”
The moment you stepped through the doors every survival instinct you possessed screamed trap. You barely made it a step into the room before it got loud.
“They’re back!”
The scream shook the foundations of the building.
Enjin groaned, “Oh no,” and then—
Pop.
Confetti exploded into the air. You shrieked, jumping backward, while Enjin got hit directly in the face with a stream of metallic pink glitter. Everyone cheered.
You stood there completely stunned. Somehow they managed to turn the common room into an actual engagement party. Even when you were convinced they had planned it since the whole mom and dad thing started.
Now everything looked nicely with balloons and banners… banners!
‘congratulations mom & dad!’
Riyo appeared first, practically launching herself through the air to grab your left hand. She saw the silver band and let out an excited scream. This was cute.
Meanwhile Gris looked emotional. “They did it. They actually did it.”
“Is that a tear?” you asked bewildered.
“They’ve grown up so fast,” Follo nodded.
“We’re older than you.”
“I know.”
Bro shook the head relieved. “So we’re finally done pretending they’re not in love?”
“We were pretending?” Semiu asked, counting a stack of bills.
“Good point.”
To be fair you should get some of the money.
Rudo pushed through the crowd, his arms folded. He didn’t show much emotions like always, but he showed a tiny smile. “Took you long enough.”
You gasped, pointing a finger at him. “You too?”
“Mom.”
“No.”
“Dad,” Rudo said, turning his head toward Enjin.
“No!” you protested.
“Mom.”
“Stop.”
“Dad.”
“Rudo!”
Enjin was laughing so hard he was doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. You considered ending his life right then and there. Affectionately. With a pillow.
What followed was kind of a feverdream. Because there was a cake. Nice. It had two stick figures - one with wild orange hair and the other with a representation of your jinki?
What got you blinking were the words written on it.
MR & MRS Enjin.
“What does that even mean? That’s not how names work,” you mentioned.
“Too late,” Follo shrugged.
Enjin hummed in approval. He loved every second of the chaos and even more so he loved the ring sitting on your finger. His hand found yours and his thumb brushed against the metal.
Oh you liked that a lot. It grounded you.
Looking around Riyo was discussing dresses with Semiu and Zanka. Rudo eyed the cake without blinking. Gris and Follo raised some cups to celebrate you.
Nothing really had and would change. It was familiar chaos. The team was still insane. Enjin was still a menace and the headquarters a circus.
But every time Enjin’s eyes caught yours the look he gave you was entirely, beautifully yours.
The party finally died sometime around three in the morning. The common room looked like a war zone from the domestic celebration that had somewhat escalated in between.
The kids laid all smushed together on the big couch which was cute. They had tried their hardest to stay awake and celebrate, but it was no use.
Gris had fallen asleep sitting upright in the chair. Follo laid under the table right next to him, wrapped in a stray banner while Semiu sat in the corner looking wide awake. Nobody trusted that woman enough to actually approach and verify if her eyes were merely open by reflex.
Enjin and you are still awake. You had been passed around, answering questions since when you were in love. If you were secretly dating beforehand, and no one really wanted to believe you were just friends all this time.
And of course all the wedding talk. It was no question that August would design your dress and Enjin’s suit. Once he had heard about the wedding he already disappeared and you trusted him fully to do you justice.
However, now your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. The party was over and you’d think about wedding plans tomorrow. Or after you got some sleep.
The hallways were quiet as you walked slowly beside Enjin. Your shoulders brushed and you took stolen little glances at the ring on your hand.
Engaged.
Your stomach fluttered and heat rises in your cheeks. You still couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t unusual to get married in the pit, but this was Enjin and you.
Before you could think further his hand found yours. His long, calloused fingers slid between yours and he squeezed so ever gentle.
Months of stolen glances, tension and ‘what ifs’ really led to this, huh?
You reached his door before you fully realized where he’d been leading you.
Your heart immediately began behaving very badly, thumping a frantic, irregular rhythm against your ribs. Because, well… you weren’t blind. You were engaged now. The boundaries had shifted. You had kissed in that courtyard and then during the party. And maybe you had sneaked out in between for a hot makeout session that had left your knees weak and him excusing himself for the restroom.
Soooo. This was the next logical step, huh?
Enjin pushed the door to his room open and led you inside. The fingers, on the hand that wasn’t holding yours, popped against each other. One of the few signs that he was nervous. Again.
You stepped inside and the room was well lived in. The umbreaker rested on the top of a drawer, his coat laid over the couch and he had three radios for some reason. But what caught your attention was the intense scent of him - dark chocolate, smoke with a hint of Bourbon.
And yes, you absolutely avoided to look at his bed.
Instead you looked up at him. He looked down at you. Your pulse immediately doubled its speed, because there he was. The man you’d loved for longer than you’d ever admit out loud. He stood there and looked at you like nothing and no one else mattered. Just you you you.
His heavy gaze dropped briefly to your lips. Then it traveled back up to your eyes, a small, incredibly fond smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Fuck. You were doomed. Completely, utterly doomed.
Youy eyes fluttered shut as Enjin reached up to cup your face softly. He was so good to you already and yeah, maybe it was the bare minimum. But you knew your Enjin.
His expression softened immediately, his features relaxing as if that tiny movement of compliance on your part meant absolutely everything to him. He leaned down, his forehead touching yours.
He was warm. Comforting. He felt like home.
You thought about the bed being a few feet away. That the final wall would fall between you and while you were nervous you were also excited.
But then Enjin laughed softly, quivering around the edges.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
You blinked, pulling back to see his eyes. “What?”
He smiled. “I want to. Trust me, I want to.”
Your face immediately became warm. “Enjin…”
“I’m serious,” he murmured, his thumb moving to brush across your cheekbone, tracing the line of your skin carefully. “I’ve wanted to for years.”
Years. Your heart nearly stopped at the casual admission.
The wonderful idiot had loved you for years, suffering through the same silent torment, the same terrifying boundaries of friendship that you had. The realization still felt entirely Unreal, like a dream you hadn't quite woken up from.
“But…” he exhaled as his eyes searched yours. “I waited this long. I don’t want our first night together to happen just because we’re emotional and exhausted and running on three hours of sleep.”
A breathless laugh escaped you, because when he put it that way… fair. Very fair. “We are definitely running on three hours of sleep.”
“Exactly.” he grinned, that little spark of mischief returning to his eyes before his expression melted into something deeper. “I want to take you on a date first.”
You stared at him. “A date?”
“Yeah.”
“After proposing to me?”
“After proposing to you.”
You giggled softly, the tension drained from you completely. “Y’re so ridiculous.”
“Mm, I know.”
“You did everything backwards.”
“I know.” his grin widened, full of that stubborn pride you adored. “I regret nothing.”
He opened his arms and you melted into the arms you’d grow old with. What a beautiful feeling this was.
His arms wrapped around you, locking securely behind your back. He was strong, protective and he didn’t hold back suddenly. He squeezed you tightly, pushed the air out of your lungs and pressed a loud smooch on top of your head.
God forbid that man would suddenly treat you all tender. Nope. Bear hug it was, always and forever.
“Can’t breathe,” you complained.
“That’s okay.”
Okay.
For a long time neither of you spoke. You simply stood there in the quiet room, holding each other, letting the reality of the situation sink into your hearts and souls.
“Come.”
The bed that had you nervous earlier now made you feel all fuzzy. Enjin also did his part as you both took off your boots and pants. He pulled the blanket over you both like a little cave and he was just everywhere.
Cuddling he kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks. A light giggle escaped you as he kissed the tip of your nose, and then pressed his lips to yours.
He treasured you. You couldn’t call it otherwise as he kissed you so sweetly - a promise for the future awaiting you rather than a plea for the present.
When he pulled back his eyes immediately dropped to the hand resting on his chest. His eyes fixed on the silver ring and the sheer happiness in his face nearly destroyed you.
Then he looked downright stunned like every few hours the realization settled in that you were here and actually said yes.
His large palms engulfed your hand as he took it. Thumb brushing over the surface of the metal. You watched as his throat bobbed as his emotions ran higher and higher.
Without a word he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the ring. His eyes are squeezed shut and you were sure they were wet with emotions. The most precious gift he ever received was you being here with him, marrying him soon.
Your eyes immediately filled with hot tears too. “Enjin…”
He didn't pull away. Instead he rested his forehead right against your knuckles, his shoulders shaking slightly as a breathless, emotional laugh escaped him.
“You have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, “How happy I am.”
That did it completely. The last of your emotional defenses crumbled and you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible. He held you right back, his grip tightening until there was no space left between you.
The room grew quiet then and sometimes you peeked through your lashes you found him staring at your finger. He looked like the happiest man ever and it hurt in the good way looking at him. You promised yourself to be good for him. For now. Forever.
… and you needed to thank Riyo and the kids for pushing you into the right direction unknowingly.
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part 2 of Mom & Dad — a/n: this is a little ooc, i apologize
The shiny object hit the table with a tiny metallic clink. You froze. Enjin pretended to freeze.
That bastard was playing you! His large hand slapped over it, trapping it against the worn wood.
“Was that a ring?” your eyes narrowed suspiciously at the supposed humble cleaner.
“No.”
“It was literally a ring.”
“It was a circular object.”
“You dropped a ring, Enjin.”
“It could’ve been anything,” he shot back smoothly. “A piece of blinking trash. A very shiny nut.”
“It sparkled.”
“A lot of things sparkle. Fireworks. Semiu’s lipgloss. My personality.”
You stared. He stared back. Neither of you blinked, a silent war of narrowed eyes and amused ones erupted across the messy table.
Then - and you couldn’t believe your damn eyes - he slid it off the table and pocketed it.
You nearly launched yourself across the table, your chair scraping harshly against the floor. “Enjin.”
“Nope.”
“Enjin. Show me.”
“Nope.”
The grin spreading across his face should’ve been illegal. That damn crooked grin that usually meant he had either just set a dumpster on fire or planned something concerning.
“You absolute menace,” you hissed.
“Love you too, wife.”
You barely registered the nickname, because your heart was in your throat. Fuck, it hammered so violently.
A ring. Why did he have a ring? And why wasn’t he saying anything?
The privacy Enjin and you had lasted for a whole minute before chaos ensued. Riyo practically materialized beside the table, her eyes wide and gleaming with the feral energy of a predator scenting blood.
“Was that a ring?” she demanded, leaning in so close her nose almost touched Enjin’s shoulder.
“No.”
“It was.”
“It wasn’t.”
“It was.”
Corvus, who was a little noisy now too, quietly looked between the two of you. Follo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if he’d been shot, while Bro looked ready to explode from sheer sensory overload.
“You have a ring?!” Follo asked.
“I don’t.”
“You just dropped it!”
“I dropped a circular object.”
Rudo stepped into the room, crossing his arms and looking genuinely offended by the sheer audacity of the lie. “That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.”
Enjin didn’t even flinch. “Thanks, kid.”
Everyone started shouting at once. Questions, accusations, wild threats, and bizarre predictions filled the air like a hurricane. Semiu started taking bets on a scrap of paper. You never found out how she’d organized the odds so quickly, but the entire headquarters was losing its mind.
Meanwhile Enjin sat there looking infuriatingly pleased with himself, basking in the havoc he’d created.
Without a word of warning he stood up suddenly. His hand shot out to grasp your wrist as he started walking.
You stumbled after him, nearly tripping over your own feet. “Wait—”
“Nope.”
“Where are we going?”
“Out.”
“That’s not an answer!”
“It’s enough of one.”
“Enjin!”
He laughed loudly, the sound echoed through the hallway while the muffled yells of the team followed you down the corridor.
“If they come back engaged, I’m winning ten thousand!” Semiu’s voice faded as the heavy metal door slammed shut behind you.
And then it was just the two of you.
The city stretched around you beneath the cooling evening sky. Neon lights flickered along the streets. The air still carried the leftover warmth of the day, smelling faintly of grime, rain and dust.
And Enjin still held your hand. His fingers laced with yours. His thumb brushed lightly against your knuckles and a soft shiver ran down your spine.
You wanted to tell him how you much you liked holding his hand. He wanted to tell that he never wanted to let go again.
But it would’ve broken the spell and so you stayed silent.
Eventually he turned down a narrow, shadowed side street. You frowned, pulling back slightly against his grip. “What are we doing here?”
“Patience.”
“I hate patience.”
“Liar.”
You did hate it, especially when he was involved, because an unpredictable Enjin was a dangerous thing for your sanity. And your heart.
The alley opened into a small, abandoned courtyard tucked away between towering, buildings. The space was covered in years of old graffiti. Color exploded across every wall. Names, abstract drawings and layers of fading paint stacked atop one another like history.
But right in the center was something else. A bright red heart filled the center of the wall. It was huge! You stared at it and then… the wind whooshed from your lungs with a sharp gasp.
Written inside the heart in thick, crude black paint were two names — yours and Enjin’s.
You looked at him so quickly your neck nearly snapped. “What?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes drifting on the ground. For the first time since you’d known him this menace of a man looked nervous. The confident, untouchable Enjin was fidgeting. You weren’t sure the universe was prepared for such a thing.
“I might’ve painted it,” he muttered. “The names, I mean.”
“You what?”
“A while ago.”
“A while ago?!”
“Maybe.”
“Enjin!”
His laugh came out strained this time, almost embarrassed as he kicked a stray pebble. “I wasn’t planning on showing you.”
“Then why show me now?”
The question hung heavy between you. Enjin looked at the heart, then at you, then back at the heart. His jaw tightened. And for the first time since you’d met him he seemed uncertain. Scared even.
Then he reached into that pocket. Your pulse skyrocketed. Oh fuck.
When his hand came back out the ring was there. Silver. Simple. Beautiful.
Before your brain could even begin to process the sight Enjin dropped to one knee.
Everything stopped.
The city, the wind, every noise, your heart, your breath. Man, for sure everyone at the cleaner headquarters for sure held their breath too.
This can’t be, right?
Enjin watched you closely. Those normally always bright and teasing golden eyes of his were so serious.
“Y’know,” he whispered. “This wasn’t how I imagined doing this.”
You made a strange, choking sound in the back of your throat. He smiled, looking so damn vulnerable it almost hurt.
“I know we’re not together,” he continued shakily. “I know we’ve never gone on a real date. I know I’ve never kissed you. And I know this is probably insane.”
“It is,” you whispered, tears blurring your vision.
“Yeah.”
A tiny, breathless laugh escaped both of you.“Doesn’t change anything. I love you. I think I’ve loved you for a long time.”
His smile trembled as he tilted the ring toward you, the silver catching the light.
“And if everyone already thinks we’re married anyway… will you marry me?”
You didn’t think. You didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
The answer exploded out of you instantly. “Yes, you idiot.”
Oh, he was relieved. He was so fucking relieved that his tense shoulders slumped. He jumped to his feet and his fingers were trembling as he put the ring on your finger.
“Oh fuck!” you crashed into him.
His arms wrapped around you tightly as he lifted you off the ground. He twirled you around while you laughed and cried into his neck.
“You’re insane.”
“I know.”
“We’re not even dating.”
“I know.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“I know.”
“You proposed before kissing me.”
Enjin paused mid-spin. You were both staring at each other and man, it was so fitting.
Kiss. Right. Kissing. The thing you both never had done, even when Enjin sometimes had stared at your lips like they owed him money.
Longing filled Enjin’s eyes and you were sure you looked the same at him. Resting your forehead against his you smiled as his hand came up to cup your face.
Then he whispered your name and it was your undoing.
You closed the distance first.
Nothing about the kiss was gentle. Months and maybe years of unspoken want and need didn’t leave space for anything soft. He still held you up. This time by the ass while your fingers tangled in his hair.
Your lips moved against each other frantically. His tongue licked into your mouth, teeth clinging together. But who cared.
You thought happiness defined you surviving this world and having an incredible team that loved and cherished you. You were wrong.
Happiness was Enjin and the ring on your finger.
You sobbed into his mouth and he slowed down the kiss. His tongue gently swiped along your lips, tasting the tears and you.
The kiss slowly broke.
“Shh,” he put his forehead against yours.
You laughed quietly through the tears as he put you down on your feet. His hand engulfing yours again as he stared at the ring, then back at your face. That crooked smile slowly made a comeback.
“Wife.”
You burst out laughing, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”
By the time Enjin and you returned to the headquarters it was dark outside.
You should’ve known something was wrong, because it was suspiciously quiet. Except for some traitorous footsteps running toward the common room.
Enjin narrowed his eyes, his hand flattening against the door. “That’s concerning.”
“Very.”
The moment you stepped through the doors every survival instinct you possessed screamed trap. You barely made it a step into the room before it got loud.
“They’re back!”
The scream shook the foundations of the building.
Enjin groaned, “Oh no,” and then—
Pop.
Confetti exploded into the air. You shrieked, jumping backward, while Enjin got hit directly in the face with a stream of metallic pink glitter. Everyone cheered.
You stood there completely stunned. Somehow they managed to turn the common room into an actual engagement party. Even when you were convinced they had planned it since the whole mom and dad thing started.
Now everything looked nicely with balloons and banners… banners!
‘congratulations mom & dad!’
Riyo appeared first, practically launching herself through the air to grab your left hand. She saw the silver band and let out an excited scream. This was cute.
Meanwhile Gris looked emotional. “They did it. They actually did it.”
“Is that a tear?” you asked bewildered.
“They’ve grown up so fast,” Follo nodded.
“We’re older than you.”
“I know.”
Bro shook the head relieved. “So we’re finally done pretending they’re not in love?”
“We were pretending?” Semiu asked, counting a stack of bills.
“Good point.”
To be fair you should get some of the money.
Rudo pushed through the crowd, his arms folded. He didn’t show much emotions like always, but he showed a tiny smile. “Took you long enough.”
You gasped, pointing a finger at him. “You too?”
“Mom.”
“No.”
“Dad,” Rudo said, turning his head toward Enjin.
“No!” you protested.
“Mom.”
“Stop.”
“Dad.”
“Rudo!”
Enjin was laughing so hard he was doubled over, resting his hands on his knees. You considered ending his life right then and there. Affectionately. With a pillow.
What followed was kind of a feverdream. Because there was a cake. Nice. It had two stick figures - one with wild orange hair and the other with a representation of your jinki?
What got you blinking were the words written on it.
MR & MRS Enjin.
“What does that even mean? That’s not how names work,” you mentioned.
“Too late,” Follo shrugged.
Enjin hummed in approval. He loved every second of the chaos and even more so he loved the ring sitting on your finger. His hand found yours and his thumb brushed against the metal.
Oh you liked that a lot. It grounded you.
Looking around Riyo was discussing dresses with Semiu and Zanka. Rudo eyed the cake without blinking. Gris and Follo raised some cups to celebrate you.
Nothing really had and would change. It was familiar chaos. The team was still insane. Enjin was still a menace and the headquarters a circus.
But every time Enjin’s eyes caught yours the look he gave you was entirely, beautifully yours.
The party finally died sometime around three in the morning. The common room looked like a war zone from the domestic celebration that had somewhat escalated in between.
The kids laid all smushed together on the big couch which was cute. They had tried their hardest to stay awake and celebrate, but it was no use.
Gris had fallen asleep sitting upright in the chair. Follo laid under the table right next to him, wrapped in a stray banner while Semiu sat in the corner looking wide awake. Nobody trusted that woman enough to actually approach and verify if her eyes were merely open by reflex.
Enjin and you are still awake. You had been passed around, answering questions since when you were in love. If you were secretly dating beforehand, and no one really wanted to believe you were just friends all this time.
And of course all the wedding talk. It was no question that August would design your dress and Enjin’s suit. Once he had heard about the wedding he already disappeared and you trusted him fully to do you justice.
However, now your cheeks were hurting from smiling so much. The party was over and you’d think about wedding plans tomorrow. Or after you got some sleep.
The hallways were quiet as you walked slowly beside Enjin. Your shoulders brushed and you took stolen little glances at the ring on your hand.
Engaged.
Your stomach fluttered and heat rises in your cheeks. You still couldn’t believe it. It wasn’t unusual to get married in the pit, but this was Enjin and you.
Before you could think further his hand found yours. His long, calloused fingers slid between yours and he squeezed so ever gentle.
Months of stolen glances, tension and ‘what ifs’ really led to this, huh?
You reached his door before you fully realized where he’d been leading you.
Your heart immediately began behaving very badly, thumping a frantic, irregular rhythm against your ribs. Because, well… you weren’t blind. You were engaged now. The boundaries had shifted. You had kissed in that courtyard and then during the party. And maybe you had sneaked out in between for a hot makeout session that had left your knees weak and him excusing himself for the restroom.
Soooo. This was the next logical step, huh?
Enjin pushed the door to his room open and led you inside. The fingers, on the hand that wasn’t holding yours, popped against each other. One of the few signs that he was nervous. Again.
You stepped inside and the room was well lived in. The umbreaker rested on the top of a drawer, his coat laid over the couch and he had three radios for some reason. But what caught your attention was the intense scent of him - dark chocolate, smoke with a hint of Bourbon.
And yes, you absolutely avoided to look at his bed.
Instead you looked up at him. He looked down at you. Your pulse immediately doubled its speed, because there he was. The man you’d loved for longer than you’d ever admit out loud. He stood there and looked at you like nothing and no one else mattered. Just you you you.
His heavy gaze dropped briefly to your lips. Then it traveled back up to your eyes, a small, incredibly fond smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.
Fuck. You were doomed. Completely, utterly doomed.
Youy eyes fluttered shut as Enjin reached up to cup your face softly. He was so good to you already and yeah, maybe it was the bare minimum. But you knew your Enjin.
His expression softened immediately, his features relaxing as if that tiny movement of compliance on your part meant absolutely everything to him. He leaned down, his forehead touching yours.
He was warm. Comforting. He felt like home.
You thought about the bed being a few feet away. That the final wall would fall between you and while you were nervous you were also excited.
But then Enjin laughed softly, quivering around the edges.
“I can’t,” he whispered.
You blinked, pulling back to see his eyes. “What?”
He smiled. “I want to. Trust me, I want to.”
Your face immediately became warm. “Enjin…”
“I’m serious,” he murmured, his thumb moving to brush across your cheekbone, tracing the line of your skin carefully. “I’ve wanted to for years.”
Years. Your heart nearly stopped at the casual admission.
The wonderful idiot had loved you for years, suffering through the same silent torment, the same terrifying boundaries of friendship that you had. The realization still felt entirely Unreal, like a dream you hadn't quite woken up from.
“But…” he exhaled as his eyes searched yours. “I waited this long. I don’t want our first night together to happen just because we’re emotional and exhausted and running on three hours of sleep.”
A breathless laugh escaped you, because when he put it that way… fair. Very fair. “We are definitely running on three hours of sleep.”
“Exactly.” he grinned, that little spark of mischief returning to his eyes before his expression melted into something deeper. “I want to take you on a date first.”
You stared at him. “A date?”
“Yeah.”
“After proposing to me?”
“After proposing to you.”
You giggled softly, the tension drained from you completely. “Y’re so ridiculous.”
“Mm, I know.”
“You did everything backwards.”
“I know.” his grin widened, full of that stubborn pride you adored. “I regret nothing.”
He opened his arms and you melted into the arms you’d grow old with. What a beautiful feeling this was.
His arms wrapped around you, locking securely behind your back. He was strong, protective and he didn’t hold back suddenly. He squeezed you tightly, pushed the air out of your lungs and pressed a loud smooch on top of your head.
God forbid that man would suddenly treat you all tender. Nope. Bear hug it was, always and forever.
“Can’t breathe,” you complained.
“That’s okay.”
Okay.
For a long time neither of you spoke. You simply stood there in the quiet room, holding each other, letting the reality of the situation sink into your hearts and souls.
“Come.”
The bed that had you nervous earlier now made you feel all fuzzy. Enjin also did his part as you both took off your boots and pants. He pulled the blanket over you both like a little cave and he was just everywhere.
Cuddling he kissed your forehead, then both of your cheeks. A light giggle escaped you as he kissed the tip of your nose, and then pressed his lips to yours.
He treasured you. You couldn’t call it otherwise as he kissed you so sweetly - a promise for the future awaiting you rather than a plea for the present.
When he pulled back his eyes immediately dropped to the hand resting on his chest. His eyes fixed on the silver ring and the sheer happiness in his face nearly destroyed you.
Then he looked downright stunned like every few hours the realization settled in that you were here and actually said yes.
His large palms engulfed your hand as he took it. Thumb brushing over the surface of the metal. You watched as his throat bobbed as his emotions ran higher and higher.
Without a word he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed the ring. His eyes are squeezed shut and you were sure they were wet with emotions. The most precious gift he ever received was you being here with him, marrying him soon.
Your eyes immediately filled with hot tears too. “Enjin…”
He didn't pull away. Instead he rested his forehead right against your knuckles, his shoulders shaking slightly as a breathless, emotional laugh escaped him.
“You have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, “How happy I am.”
That did it completely. The last of your emotional defenses crumbled and you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling him as close as physically possible. He held you right back, his grip tightening until there was no space left between you.
The room grew quiet then and sometimes you peeked through your lashes you found him staring at your finger. He looked like the happiest man ever and it hurt in the good way looking at him. You promised yourself to be good for him. For now. Forever.
… and you needed to thank Riyo and the kids for pushing you into the right direction unknowingly.
enjin didn’t even remember anymore when his oxygen tank broke. hell, at some point he might went unconscious from coughing his lungs out.
but he knew when he felt your hand close to his face, and how you became firm with him when you… when you pressed your fucking mask over his mouth and nose. panic had flooded through him - more than the lack of air ever could - as he had tried to push it away.
“no. stop,” he had rasped, chocking. “what are you doin’? you’ll—“
“shut up,” you had snapped, your own breath already uneven. “just breathe.”
he hated how calm you sounded. hated it more when he realized you weren’t letting go. one hand firmly pressed the mask to his face, the other had grabbed the back of his head.
no, no, no. the mask was yours, your supply.
his lungs burned, vision swimming black at the edges. the survival instinct kicked in hard, because he wanted to live… but not like this. not at your fucking expense.
he couldn’t deal with this. please, don’t make him to.
that’s why he had tried to fight you. he was stronger after all, and should easily manage to overpower you and gave you the mask back. right?
wrong.
enjin shoved weakly at your wrist, fingers that clawed at the strap desperately. he might’ve called you an asshole for doing that to him. you were stronger and you didn’t fucking budge. if anything your grip tightened.
“don’t be stupid,” you muttered, strained. “you pass out, you die. i’m not dragging your ass out alone.”
“we’ll both die like this,” he shot back, the words muffled behind the mask you forced onto him.
you didn’t answer right away.
later he’d replay this silence over and over again, obsessively. the look in your eyes that screamed determination, and love.
“then don’t waste it,” you said quietly.
and then you pushed the mask harder against his face.
he remembered trying to count your breaths after that. he didn’t know why. maybe it was panic. maybe it was desperation. maybe it was the only way he could convince himself you were still there, still fighting.
your breaths grew shallower while his steadied. it made him fucking sick to his stomach.
he tried to angle the mask, tried to share and press it between you both, but you caught his wrist immediately.
“no,” you rasped, coughing hard enough your whole body jerked. “don’t.”
“we can make it,” he insisted, even as doubt clawed up his throat. “we just—”
“enjin.” your voice cut through him, sharp despite the weakness creeping in. “for once, listen.”
your eyes met his then. fuck, he wished they hadn’t, because there was no fear in them. you looked so stubborn, and soft in a way that made his chest ache in a way the toxins never could.
“you’re not dying here,” you said. “so breathe.”
he hated you for it. hated the way his body obeyed, dragging in oxygen while yours struggled. hated the way your hand never trembled, even as your strength clearly faded. hated that you chose him so easily.
he didn’t deserve that. he never would. you did. fuck, you deserved the world.
what he failed to realize was that he was your world.
the next thing he remembered was waking up.
clean air surrounded him, voices. light that didn’t sting his eyes. blinking tiredly he immediately looked around to search for you.
it took him a moment to realize that you weren’t there.
panic hit him before reason could. raw, ugly fear clawed at his throat. this couldn’t be. this was a joke, right?
he tore the medical mask from his face and sat up way too fast. his vision started spinning.
“hey. hey, easy!” gris grabbed his shoulders, forcing him back down. “you’re alive, idiot, don’t undo that.”
“where is she?” his voice came out in frantic gasps. “where is—”
“she’s alive.”
everything narrowed down to these words.
“what?”
“barely, but yeah.” gris paused before he smiled. “you got lucky.”
lucky. the word felt wrong - disgusting. you almost lost your life to save his. how dare gris to talk about lucky?
“take me to her,” he demanded.
you had been treated in a separate room so you could sleep in peace, without the usual commotion of the infirmary.
fuck. you looked so small, enjin thought as he shuffled inside the room.
you, who had stood over him in a cloud of poison and toxin. an unshakable force and now you looked so small in that bed. the blankets almost swallowed you and you wore this big oxygen mask that covered your face.
enjin’s chest tightened so painfully and he bit back the tears.
carefully, so he won’t wake you, he approached the bed. terrified that you’d fall apart if he walked too fast. absolutely unreasonable, but made a lot of fucking sense to him.
your breathing was uneven. probably your lungs were damaged and it sounded like every inhale hurt you.
that was his fault.
“hey,” he said quietly, pulling a chair closer and dropping into it. his voice didn’t feel like his own. “you idiot.”
no response. normally you’d scold him now and then try to wrestle until he kissed you until you forgot why you were mad in the first place.
he leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring at your hand where it rested limply beside you. it had been so strong before - strong enough to hold his life in place.
“you weren’t supposed to survive that,” he muttered, more to himself than to you. “do you get that? that was—that was a one person deal.”
his throat tightened. he swallowed uncomfortably.
“you don’t get to make calls like that. not for me.”
silence filled the room again, heavy and suffocating in a different way. he reached out before he could stop himself, his hands hugging your smaller one.
it was warm and alive, and for now that was enough. his grip tightened.
“i would’ve died,” he admitted quietly. “and that would’ve been fine.”
that was kind of a fucking lie. of course he would die for you if it meant you stayed alive. but he also wanted to live so he could have more time with you.
fuck, he wanted to grow old with you. he wanted to fucking marry you, and maybe have a kid on his own.
“you don’t get to decide i’m worth more than you.” his voice cracked then, frustration bleeding through. “because i’m not.”
there was this ugly urge to yell at you. but before the urge could take over your fingers twitched weakly in his grasp.
enjin froze.
“shut up,” you mumbled hoarsely, and wrecked beneath the mask.
he stared at you, something sharp and fragile cracking open in his chest. “you’re awake.”
“unfortunately,” you breathed, the ghost of your usual tone slipping through. “and you’re still yappin’.”
he let out a shaky laugh, half relief, half disbelief. “yeah. guess i am.”
your eyes opened just enough to look at him, tired but unmistakably you. it made his heart thump wildly.
“good,” you murmured. “means it worked.”
his smile faltered. guilt surged back instantly, heavy and relentless. a guilt he wouldn’t get rid off for a long time, even after you were nursed back to health.
“don’t,” he said, sharper than intended. “don’t say that like it was a good thing.”
you studied him for a long moment, then your gaze softened.
“you’re alive,” you said simply.
like that was enough. like that justified everything, and what you had done. he tightened his grip on your hand, jaw clenching.
“yeah,” he whispered.
never again. he swore that to himself. if such a situation would ever occur again he’d fight you until his last breath. or the best would be if you stopped going out with him and the others.
for now he had to live with that… until he found a solution.
enjin struggles with his confidence once he falls head over heels for your pretty self.
Enjin hated mirrors. He knew exactly what people saw when they looked at him.
The tattoos that crawled over his skin like spilled ink. The smell of smoke that clung into his clothes. The rough features and the large scar on his skull. Hands that looked better suited for fighting than to hold something beautiful.
He fit the pit and it had never been a problem until you.
You looked like something untouched by all of this. Where grime stained the walls and nearly everyone carried exhaustion beneath their eyes you somehow stayed pristine.
He didn’t even mean this in a bad way. You weren’t spoiled like the Nijikus or acted above everyone else. You were just neat.
Your clothes were always clean, layered and styled. Trimmed nails and hair that never looked tangled - even after missions. You smelled faintly like soap instead of smoke and blood and rust.
The first time Enjin saw you fixing the collar of your coat in a cracked mirror he genuinely thought you had gotten lost. Someone like you should’ve been up in the sphere - not down here beside people like him.
He cringed at himself for thinking that way. You were kind and talked to everyone the same way. Not once you had acted superior.
No, you were found joking around with the cleaners. You sat with rudo and the kids to doodle and share snacks. Enjin had once seen you sewing riyo’s jacket with a tiny sewing kit you carried around.
You belonged here more than most people. Still, Enjin’s brain couldn’t stop thinking about the difference between you and him.
Somehow his brain also added Gris to the mix. Gris with his composed appearance and smooth confidence. Gris who looked out together with his shiny blond hair. Gris who could stand beside you and just fit there.
Enjin compared himself to his friend a lot after meeting you. The ash that clung to his fingers. That he has really prominent knuckles. His tattoos that covered part of the truth and could been seen as aggressive to someone polished as you.
You didn’t smoke. Fuck, the smoking.
One night he caught sight of himself in a window reflection while lighting a cigarette and immediately put it out.
Zanka got real nervous watching this. “Are you sick?”
Enjin scoffed. “Shut up.”
But afterward he stared at the crushed cigarette under his boot and wondered if you hated the smell.
It got worse over time. Every little interaction sat under his skin for days.
He watched you smiling at Gris. Once you adjusted follo’s collar while talking to him.
It was the fucking fact that you looked so natural standing beside people who looked cleaner, calmer, prettier.
Enjin started avoiding you without even meaning to. Fuck. It wasn’t his intention, okay?
But he’d leave rooms. Stood further away during meetings or just hang outs. He pretended to be busy. Because each time you smiled at him hope blossomed in his chest.
Hope was a dangerous for someone like him.
The thing he failed to realize was that you noticed his absence.
Your expression fell a bit when he stopped sitting beside you or how he stopped joking around with you. He didn’t tease you at all anymore and you didn’t knew why.
Maybe you had upset him somehow
At first you thought maybe you’d upset him somehow until semiu spilled the beans, having mercy with the two of you.
“Dude’s losing his mind because he thinks you’d prefer Gris.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know, huh? I’m not surprised. Dude’s not known for talking about his feelings.
Suddenly everything made sense to you. And oh, your face grew warm. That was something you could work with and finally talk to him.
In the evening you got your chance when you found Enjin alone on the roof of headquarters, leaning against the railing while smoke curled into the air beside him.
You walked over quietly. “Can I sit here?”
Poor man nearly jumped as he stared at you. “Yeah. Sure.”
You sat beside him and for a moment neither of you spoke. Then you reached over, plucked the cigarette from his fingers, and took the last drag of it. Enjin stared at you in absolute horror.
“That was my last one.”
“You can survive.”
A weak laugh escaped him as he shook the head. You snipped the cig bud over the railing and it was so unlike you. He liked it.
You glanced at him carefully. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
“A little.”
“Why?”
Enjin rubbed a hand over his face.
‘because you’re too pretty for me. Because standing beside you makes me feel filthy. Because I look at Gris and think yeah, obviously you’d pick someone like him.’
He couldn’t say any of that aloud. So instead he shrugged roughly. “You just seem more comfortable around cleaner guys.”
The second the words left his mouth he regretted them. You blinked confused.
“Cleaner guys?”
“Y’know.” he gestured vaguely at himself. “Less… this.”
Oh he sounded so fucking bitter. You stared at him for several long seconds before realization softened your face.
“Oh.”
Shit. Can he please rewind and push all the words back into his throat? His jaw twitched as he spoke up again.
“You don’t gotta pretend or anything. I know what I look like.”
“Enjin.”
“You and Gris make more sense.”
“Enjin.”
“He’s—”
“Enjin.”
Your hand grabbed his wrist firmly. It shut him up instantly.
“You really think I’d choose someone based on how polished they look? Do you really think so low of me?”
He didn’t answer, because yes. No. Yes. But he didn’t think low of you.
You sighed softly, thumb brushing against the tattoos on his wrist. “I like your tattoos and those hoops in your ears.”
“What?”
“And your hands,” you smiled softly. “They look warm.”
Something genuinely helpless crossed his face. Nobody had ever described him as warm before. He knew he was the connection for many of them, but being described as warm was new.
“And for the record,” you added quieter now, “You’re really handsome.”
What?
His entire body went still. Handsome? Him? You weren’t lying either. He saw you once lying. It was terrible.
Heat climbed violently up his neck. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“No it isn’t.”
“It is.”
“You need your eyes checked.”
You laughed softly and the sound nearly killed him. Suddenly all those awful thoughts in his head felt quieter.
You shifted closer until your shoulder bumped his and you rested your head against his shoulder. Not caring that you smudged your pants on the dirty roof or that he cleaned his coat, well, many many moons ago the last time.
“I don’t care if you smoke,” you murmured. “Or if you’re rough around the edges. None of that scares me.”
“You should be scared,” Enjin whispered.
“I’m not.”
Enjin looked down at your hand still resting over his tattooed wrist and felt something painful bloom in his chest. Again the hope, but this time it didn’t feel ugly.
“Give me a chance,” you added quietly. “I’m more than clean clothes like I know you’re more than tattoos and cigarettes.”
Enjin looked at you for a long time and then he did the only right thing. He turned his hand around and interlocked your fingers together. “Okay.”
enjin struggles with his confidence once he falls head over heels for your pretty self.
Enjin hated mirrors. He knew exactly what people saw when they looked at him.
The tattoos that crawled over his skin like spilled ink. The smell of smoke that clung into his clothes. The rough features and the large scar on his skull. Hands that looked better suited for fighting than to hold something beautiful.
He fit the pit and it had never been a problem until you.
You looked like something untouched by all of this. Where grime stained the walls and nearly everyone carried exhaustion beneath their eyes you somehow stayed pristine.
He didn’t even mean this in a bad way. You weren’t spoiled like the Nijikus or acted above everyone else. You were just neat.
Your clothes were always clean, layered and styled. Trimmed nails and hair that never looked tangled - even after missions. You smelled faintly like soap instead of smoke and blood and rust.
The first time Enjin saw you fixing the collar of your coat in a cracked mirror he genuinely thought you had gotten lost. Someone like you should’ve been up in the sphere - not down here beside people like him.
He cringed at himself for thinking that way. You were kind and talked to everyone the same way. Not once you had acted superior.
No, you were found joking around with the cleaners. You sat with rudo and the kids to doodle and share snacks. Enjin had once seen you sewing riyo’s jacket with a tiny sewing kit you carried around.
You belonged here more than most people. Still, Enjin’s brain couldn’t stop thinking about the difference between you and him.
Somehow his brain also added Gris to the mix. Gris with his composed appearance and smooth confidence. Gris who looked out together with his shiny blond hair. Gris who could stand beside you and just fit there.
Enjin compared himself to his friend a lot after meeting you. The ash that clung to his fingers. That he has really prominent knuckles. His tattoos that covered part of the truth and could been seen as aggressive to someone polished as you.
You didn’t smoke. Fuck, the smoking.
One night he caught sight of himself in a window reflection while lighting a cigarette and immediately put it out.
Zanka got real nervous watching this. “Are you sick?”
Enjin scoffed. “Shut up.”
But afterward he stared at the crushed cigarette under his boot and wondered if you hated the smell.
It got worse over time. Every little interaction sat under his skin for days.
He watched you smiling at Gris. Once you adjusted follo’s collar while talking to him.
It was the fucking fact that you looked so natural standing beside people who looked cleaner, calmer, prettier.
Enjin started avoiding you without even meaning to. Fuck. It wasn’t his intention, okay?
But he’d leave rooms. Stood further away during meetings or just hang outs. He pretended to be busy. Because each time you smiled at him hope blossomed in his chest.
Hope was a dangerous for someone like him.
The thing he failed to realize was that you noticed his absence.
Your expression fell a bit when he stopped sitting beside you or how he stopped joking around with you. He didn’t tease you at all anymore and you didn’t knew why.
Maybe you had upset him somehow
At first you thought maybe you’d upset him somehow until semiu spilled the beans, having mercy with the two of you.
“Dude’s losing his mind because he thinks you’d prefer Gris.”
“What?”
“You didn’t know, huh? I’m not surprised. Dude’s not known for talking about his feelings.
Suddenly everything made sense to you. And oh, your face grew warm. That was something you could work with and finally talk to him.
In the evening you got your chance when you found Enjin alone on the roof of headquarters, leaning against the railing while smoke curled into the air beside him.
You walked over quietly. “Can I sit here?”
Poor man nearly jumped as he stared at you. “Yeah. Sure.”
You sat beside him and for a moment neither of you spoke. Then you reached over, plucked the cigarette from his fingers, and took the last drag of it. Enjin stared at you in absolute horror.
“That was my last one.”
“You can survive.”
A weak laugh escaped him as he shook the head. You snipped the cig bud over the railing and it was so unlike you. He liked it.
You glanced at him carefully. “Why have you been avoiding me?”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
“A little.”
“Why?”
Enjin rubbed a hand over his face.
‘because you’re too pretty for me. Because standing beside you makes me feel filthy. Because I look at Gris and think yeah, obviously you’d pick someone like him.’
He couldn’t say any of that aloud. So instead he shrugged roughly. “You just seem more comfortable around cleaner guys.”
The second the words left his mouth he regretted them. You blinked confused.
“Cleaner guys?”
“Y’know.” he gestured vaguely at himself. “Less… this.”
Oh he sounded so fucking bitter. You stared at him for several long seconds before realization softened your face.
“Oh.”
Shit. Can he please rewind and push all the words back into his throat? His jaw twitched as he spoke up again.
“You don’t gotta pretend or anything. I know what I look like.”
“Enjin.”
“You and Gris make more sense.”
“Enjin.”
“He’s—”
“Enjin.”
Your hand grabbed his wrist firmly. It shut him up instantly.
“You really think I’d choose someone based on how polished they look? Do you really think so low of me?”
He didn’t answer, because yes. No. Yes. But he didn’t think low of you.
You sighed softly, thumb brushing against the tattoos on his wrist. “I like your tattoos and those hoops in your ears.”
“What?”
“And your hands,” you smiled softly. “They look warm.”
Something genuinely helpless crossed his face. Nobody had ever described him as warm before. He knew he was the connection for many of them, but being described as warm was new.
“And for the record,” you added quieter now, “You’re really handsome.”
What?
His entire body went still. Handsome? Him? You weren’t lying either. He saw you once lying. It was terrible.
Heat climbed violently up his neck. “You can’t just say stuff like that.”
“Why not? It’s true.”
“No it isn’t.”
“It is.”
“You need your eyes checked.”
You laughed softly and the sound nearly killed him. Suddenly all those awful thoughts in his head felt quieter.
You shifted closer until your shoulder bumped his and you rested your head against his shoulder. Not caring that you smudged your pants on the dirty roof or that he cleaned his coat, well, many many moons ago the last time.
“I don’t care if you smoke,” you murmured. “Or if you’re rough around the edges. None of that scares me.”
“You should be scared,” Enjin whispered.
“I’m not.”
Enjin looked down at your hand still resting over his tattooed wrist and felt something painful bloom in his chest. Again the hope, but this time it didn’t feel ugly.
“Give me a chance,” you added quietly. “I’m more than clean clothes like I know you’re more than tattoos and cigarettes.”
Enjin looked at you for a long time and then he did the only right thing. He turned his hand around and interlocked your fingers together. “Okay.”
You wake to the feeling of gentle fingers combing through your hair. The fever has left everything hazy, your limbs heavy beneath the blankets.
“Enjin?”
“Mhm.” His voice is low, almost swallowed by the quiet room.
“Go back to sleep.”
You blink until his silhouette comes into focus. He’s sitting behind you on the bed, one knee propped up, a hairbrush resting loosely in his hand. The other is patiently working through a stubborn tangle near the ends of your hair.
“You’ve got knots,” he murmurs. “Thought I’d deal with ’em before they become a whole mission.”
His teasing is softer than usual, because he’s afraid even his voice might make your headache worse. You let your head tip back against his leg as the brush glides through another section.
Your man is so careful with you.
When he reaches a snag, he separates it with his fingers first, only brushing once it’s loose.
“You’ve done this before,” you mumble.
“A few times.”
“On who?”
“You.”
“I don’t remember.”
“’Cause you were sick then too.”
“Oh.” You’d giggle and kick your feet if you weren’t so sick.
He gathers your hair over one shoulder, dividing it into three neat sections. His fingers are surprisingly nimble. Left over middle, then right over middle. The braid grows steadily down your back.
“You learned how to braid?”
“I got tired of watching you struggle with it when you weren’t feeling good.”
The confession slips out so casually you almost miss it. Your chest aches with something warmer than the fever. When he ties off the end, he smooths a hand over your head, fingertips lightly scratching your scalp.
“There,” he hums and you sigh softly. “That feel nice?”
“Mhm…”
Another scratch behind your ear. Another sleepy sigh. Another one down your neck. Another soft noise.
“Knew it.”
You reach blindly for him until your fingers catch the sleeve of his shirt. “Stay.”
He sets the brush on the nightstand, eases himself down beside you, and pulls the blanket back over your shoulder where it had slipped. His palm rests against your forehead for a moment, checking your temperature with quiet concentration.
“Still a little warm.”
“So?”
“So…” His thumb brushes lazily across your temple. “Guess I’m stuck here.”
“You make it sound terrible.”
“It is.”
You squint at him.
“I was gonna get some work done today.”
“You liar.”
“I know,” He smiles, the kind that’s all crooked edges and fondness. “But I’ve got a sick girlfriend who needs someone to keep her hair from turning into a bird’s nest. So the world’s gonna have to wait.”
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Sukuna tells his daughter how to deal with bullies :)
Ryomen Sukuna’s stomach twisted into knots when he first received the call from the assistant principal of his daughter’s elementary school.
“She’s having a rough day . . .” the woman started to say over the phone. “Her teacher claims that a few of her classmates were picking on her during-”
Click.
The woman was met with the all-too-familiar buzz of an abruptly ended phone call, as this wasn’t the first time she had to call Sukuna for one reason or another.
And, just as it happened a few months ago when they delivered the news that his five-year-old girl had been struck down with a stomach bug, Sukuna could be seen through the windows of the front office speeding down the road, flicking off the cars that honked at him, and swirling his vehicle into the school's lot. He treated the parking lines as if they were a suggestion, his crookedly parked car now a source of misery for the poor vehicles that would have to maneuver around it.
It was rather comedic — the way he, a pissed-off, enormous man with tattoos decorating his muscles, so drastically contrasted against the soft pink, blue, and yellow paintings of shapes and animals that decorated the school lobby.
And, this time, you were with him.
And the sight of you walking into the main office alongside your husband made the assistant principal’s palms sweat, and the nervous woman silently sent up a merciful prayer on behalf of the bullies and their careless parents.
The sniffling little girl’s teary eyes widened upon seeing you both. She jumped out of her seat, running into the open arms of her kneeling father with a squeal of relief.
“What happened, sweet girl?” He asked, his face and voice a poetic, chaotic mix of concern and anger.
She was too upset to talk. Too upset to be understood clearly.
She only hiccuped, moved away from her father as she wrapped her arms around your lower body, and, sadly, she mumbled, “momma.”
You stroked her forehead with your thumb — a gentle touch that represented all the love you felt for her. But, the piercing glare you gave the assistant principal sent a shiver down the poor woman’s spine.
“I want names and addresses,” you ordered.
“W-Well,” the woman swallowed thickly. “We must maintain a certain level of anonymity for the safety of-”
“Sukuna,” you interrupted, turning back to face him with a poisoned smile. “Take her to the car, please.”
Hand-in-hand, he and your daughter made their way out of the building. Though he knew you wouldn’t leave that building until you figured out who exactly made your daughter burst into tears, Sukuna too had his own way of handling things.
He opened the back door for the crying girl and watched as she entered the back seat.
Resting his arm on the car roof, he said, “I’m thinkin’ a little ice cream will turn that frown upside down, huh?”
She shook her head as she buckled her seatbelt.
“A lot of ice cream?”
She nodded slowly.
“We have a deal.” He touched her wet cheek lightly, stroking away the falling tears. The sight of them never failed to snap his heart into pieces. “I told you what to say to those brats when they’re mean to you. You remember?”
She nodded slowly yet again.
“What was it?”
“Uhhh,” she thought for a moment, then, as if a lightbulb suddenly went off in her head, she grinned. “You said to tell them to die!”
“That’s right. When we get home, I’m gonna teach you a couple of bad words to add on to that, alright?”
“And then you said that, um, to sometimes punch them. Or say go to hell.”
“Yep,” Sukuna nodded. “Sometimes, words aren’t needed. Fists are.”
The little girl looked down at her tiny fists — specifically the left one with a Good job! smiley sticker given to her by her teacher for completing her homework.
“Listen. No matter what happens, you call me and your mom.” Sukuna said. As if summoned, you stepped out of the doors of the school with a piece of paper in hand and a look of pure satisfaction. “We’ll always protect you. Now, what do we say when someone’s mean to us?”
“Go die! Go to hell!”
“That’s right,” With a smile, he high-fived her, and made his way to the driver’s seat.
Sypnosis: Enjin never really cared about birthday's and such, but when he got with you he started to, though he didn't expect for you to cry.
Art by me
You always have been a giving person.
Whenever your siblings, family, friends in general have birthdays or just anything that have to do with celebration like name days or those stupid special occasion were you celebrate friendship day. You will always make sure you got them something big.
And for awhile it felt good seeing them happy as they open their presents, your circle giving you a warm hug for even remembering.
Then came your birthday. And no one showed up, or gave you anything. Just empty happy birthday wishes.
You felt a lump in your throat whenever it happened, because you hated a part of yourself that wished they put the same effort.
You felt selfish and entitled because if you truly just wanted to give them something you shouldn't expect anything back, right?
So you suck it up and continue giving.
Untill well, Enjin.
You walked inside HQ, exhausted from whatever Corvus had sighed you up to do and all you wanted was to sleep. And maybe cuddle up with Enjin as he kissed you until you felt better.
Maybe he got you a slice of cake or something but you highly doubt he will do that since he mentioned he doesn't care much about birthdays and stuff.
After good sleep, you meet Enjin in a rooftop.
You both shared a pack of cigarettes as you both talked about each other's day untill Enjin reached to a bag he had beside him the whole time.
"This is for you," said Enjin.
You opened the bag, and it was a comic series you have been telling Enjin you will buy but kept delaying it because you didn't want to spend too much money. You probably have talk his ear off about how you love the characters.
You just looked at the bag dumbfounded, how did he found the money to get this, you felt your heart tighten maybe it's your fault he got it, because you couldn't shut up and now he probably thought he was obligated to.
You felt your eyes burn, Man how ungrateful can you be?
"Babe, are you okay?" He asked scooting closer to you, "You don't like the gift, I think I got the receipt, you can always—"
You wiped the tears that were falling without your will, "No, is just—" you babbled, "I'm sorry, I will make it up to to you, I will—"
"Hey, no need for that, it's your birthday"
"I know but you said you don't do those birthday thing's and—"
"Yeah, I don't but you do, and If it's important for you than it's to me too," he said "Also probably rudo and the others were ready with their own gifts"
You don't know why it hit you, but it did and you started crying. You felt extremely guilty.
Enjin looked at you and smiled and hugged you, "You really thought I wouldn't get you anything?"
"No one does," you mumbled "People say they will and they don't. And then you did, is it cause I kept talking about the comic series? I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you, I will get you something when—"
Enjin wiped your tears away from your face, "Baby, don't," he reassurared," And you know the others have been planning three months early for your birthday. Well, rudo actually."
"Rudo?"
"Yeah, he even accidentally called you mom."
You felt your heart tighten again, and started tearing up again.
Enjin pulled you in to a hug and carresed your hair, "You really should start surroundeding yourself with better people, come more often to HQ after work"
"I don't wanna bother anyone"
"You bother us when you don't come"
You laughed, truly laughed, "I really don't deserve you"
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a/n: i’m feral. i think in this au he would ACTUALLY know how to drive… right…
f1 racer! enjin who always ends up worrying you because he’s pulling the craziest stunts on the track — to show off, of course. and because he knows it drives you wild.
“what if you get hurt doing that!?”
“angel, i could do it with my eyes closed. trust me.”
enjin who also dusts his opponents purposefully despite the backlash he gets, he just flashes that shit-eating grin everytime it’s brought up.
enjin who, however, begun to let go of some of the dangerous habits he was famous for on the track. once he met you, he couldn’t risk leaving you for someone else to try and snatch up. you were his.
enjin who has a habit of revving the engine when he passes over the area you’re in once he sees you. almost like a reminder, like, “hey, i’m right in front of you. i’m in this car.”
enjin who immediately scans the crowd for you as soon as he steps out the car after racing. fuck the press, the media, everyone else. you are his priority and his motivation. and when he does spot you, he smiles widely and winks in your direction. everyone around is jealous.
enjin who always gets you a seat in the front so you can get a perfect view of the race— and his victory, of course.
“and that’s it! enjin with a clean finish— 1st place! incredible performance from…”
you don’t hear much of it, ‘cause your gaze is on him. once he steps out of his car, his eyes almost immediately find yours.
without another thought, he’s walking over towards you, removing his helmet with designs that are just like the alluring tattoos that cover his body, sweaty locks drooping down over his face.
and not to mention the lovely racing uniform that hugs his form juuuust right. only so much for your imagination.
and because the security watching the crowd is used to it, they immediately clear a path for him— straight to you.
you’re in arms length, and he’s immediately reaching for one of your hands, placing a gentle, warm kiss against it.
“you did amazing out there.” you praise.
enjin’s expression softens, “it’s all for you, baby. my good luck charm.”
he leans in, pressing his lips against yours while the crowd around you that can see goes absolutely wild at the sight.
enjin couldn’t care less about who was watching, people or media. if they catch you two kissing, at least everyone knows who he belongs to.
a/n: enjinholic over here (it’s me. i’m the enjinholic.)
thinking abt babydad enjin who’s currently away on a mission — and you, his very pregnant girl, who’s in the middle of a hormonal breakdown because he isn’t here.
you’re in the infirmary with eishia and semiu, who’re desperately trying to get you to calm down before something in you bursts and puts you and the baby in danger.
“enjin’ll be back soon, i know it.”
“where is enjinnn?” you wail, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while you’re sprawled over a cot. your chest heaves with sobs, and semiu and eishia share a worried glance.
“do you want anything? i can get you something from the markets, or…?” semiu attempts to reason with you, taking a step towards the bed.
you shake your head slowly, blinking at her with glossy eyes. “i just want enjin. where is he?”
“he’s out on a mission, darling. he—“
semiu stops in her tracks, looking like she just got the best idea ever. she peers at eishia, then back to you.
“what’re you doing?” you ask weakly, sniffling.
“just trust me. i know what’ll make you feel better.”
semiu’s hands come up to her choker. she presses the button, waits a bit. then, a familiar voice comes through her choker.
“go for enjin.”
you immediately perk up at the sound of his voice, tears still pricking your face.
“enjin,” semiu hums. “got someone wanting to talk to you. awfully emotional.” she walks towards you with a knowing smile, sitting on the stool next to your bed.
“en’,” you mumble loud enough for the choker to catch it. “baby? what’s the matter?” he cooes, causing your lower lip to tremble.
“i miss you.”
“miss me, huh? i miss you too. what’s this about you being so upset?”
“it’s nothing. it’s stupid. i just—“ you begin to ramble, but not for long before you’re cut off.
“uh-uh. nothing you say is stupid. now, tell me.”
you’re silent for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek. “i wake up and you’re not even here.” your voice rises and cracks simultaneously.
“i wanted you next to me, and you left me here. left me here to die.” you sob, and you can hear his breath hitch, just barely.
“what?” he blurts.
“to die alone here carrying your child.”
“i can’t just skip missions, babe.”
“you should’ve blown the beast up with your mind. but you want to leave me instead.”
“sweetie, i did not—“
“you did!”
enjin laughs wholeheartedly. you can already imagine the wide grin that he’s probably wearing right now. “boo, no. i didn’t want to leave you. hell, i wouldn’t leave, ever. but i have to work when i’m sent off.”
you sniffle loud enough for his heart to break on the opposite end of the choker. he could swear you heard it.
“come on, doll. if it were up to me, i’d block out all of the missions i would have to go on until i get to hold our little one in my arms.”
his words make you freeze, and they somehow make you feel a little better. even though he still abandoned you.
“i’m on my way back now, okay? i’ll bring you your favorite snacks and we can cuddle. how does that sound?”
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