Hii! I absolutely adore the way you write Follo^^
Could you maybe write smth like reader exploring Follo's body after his scars are healed? Fluffy and sensual, I imagine it'd be like tracing your fingers across the scars and maybe planting a kiss on them here and there...
thank you! <3
kinda spoilers for first job arc, credits to Graysonsmt on Pinterest and TikTok
ห . ๐ฒึผ๐ข. ๐ฆนห. "C'mon...You don't gotta do this you know that right?" Follo murmured bashfully.
"I know, but I wanna take care of you. After all...you really did do a good job out there."
You hummed softly in response. not even stopping for a second as you traced a path down his spine, following along the pale ridged lines as a guide. Kissing every scar, rough and smooth that you could find.
"won't you let me take care of you?" you pleaded with a pout on your lips.
The look is enough to send a strike of electrity down to his very core. Sadly for him (or luckily if he's being honest) he's a weak man. For you and those sweet words that rolled off your tongue with ease. So all he can really do is sigh in defeat. Surrendering himself to you.
Follo doesn't get himself hurt often.
over the course of his year working with the cleaners he's learned the most important thing is to observe. Observe the behaviors of people, observe the behaviors and habits of trash beasts. That and the fact he's been on the back burner for most of those 12 months.
However, since follo had awakened, he's found himself in eisha's care more and more. And who better to dote on him than his amazing partner?
So there he was, sat on one of the mattresses in the infirmary, robe thrown somewhere on the floor, leaving his bare back exposed for your loving assault.
Your hands ran back and forth on the landscape he called a body. Starting at the pulse in his neck, running your thumb along one of the few scabs that still remained while your other hand held his chin in a firm grip, guiding it to the side for more access. You press your mouth to the area. the warmth of your lips eliciting a sharp breath inhale from the man.
"Jesusโ" he cursed under his breath.
You pull away slightly, your brows knitting together with concern in those eyes of yours. "Still sensitive?"
Follo shakes his head, ignoring the ever tightening coil in his stomach. "nโno no...I'm good."
You stare at him for a moment. The flush that betrayed his silly attempt at composure, the soft furrow of his brows. You dip your head to the smooth valley of his shoulder, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
A giggle rises from Follo's throat. He turns slightly to get a glimpse at your head of hair.
"Y'know...I almost think you're enjoying this way more than I am." He wondered aloud, earning a chuckle out of you.
"Would that be so bad?" hell no. But before he could answer, your hands were already slipping down to his waist. caressing the soft muscles that bulged at his abdomen.
Follo swallows another whine as his stomach twists in delight.
"I'm just saying...you're real wicked." He finally answered breathlessly.
you made a small noise at that. Wordlessly one of your hands come back up from his lower half, redirecting your attention to a long raised scar that spanned from his upper ribcage to the curve of his hip.
Your index traces against it with gentle pressure. Another onset of butterflies rises from the pit of Follo's stomach. 'How many times have you patched him up now? How is he still this sensitive?' Follo catches himself wondering.
"how'd you get this one?" You muttered.
Follo cranes his neck to see where you were at this point. He pauses for a moment before answering. "I Think I got that one when I got blown off the cliff. Eisha said I got sliced by a rock."
You crooned lowly in acknowledgment. "Did it hurt?"
He shook his head. "not as much as everywhere else did."
you muttered something else that sounded like "that's good" but that was the last thing on his mind. The main focus being the feeling of your hand smoothing over the raised mark, the coil in his stomach that grew especially tight as your fingers grazed his v-line.
"you're so pretty you know that?" you whispered. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuckโ
Follo couldn't help but start adjusting fidgeting beneath your grasp. It was too much. Too good. Too sweet.
A simple "yโyeah?" is all he could manage. And even that seemed hard to get out of him.
"Mhm...So pretty...so brave...you are really like a knight you know that?" You giggled sadistically.
Follo cracked at that. Both in voice and spirit. "k-knight? God you really say the weirdest things sometimes..." He forced out a chuckle, rubbing his neck out of habit.
This time you don't answer. Instead, you get up, making your way to his front and plop down on his lap and begin peppering kisses along his front. Your arms sling around his neck, holding him hostage in your koala like hold.
You watched for a moment. eyeing how his chest rose and fell. the beads of sweat that had cultivated at the crook of neck.
Follo's adam's apple bobbed, trying his hardest to swallow down the nerves that had ran wild under your scrutiny.
Your fingers trace nimbly down his chest for a moment. The dedication in your gaze almost as frightening as your silence.
"No, you just have confidence issues." you finally said, meeting his wide eyed stare. Slowly another painfully triumphant smile formed on your lips.
you reached up and gripped his jaw and draw him to your mouth. Follo's quick to melt into it, his hands find their home at your hips, pulling you into a full straddle.
The taste of your mouth is something lethal. undeniably sweet. downright addictive.
Follo grips you like you could evaporate that very second. His fists white knuckle your shirt, bunching the fabric up in his sweaty palms as he (very sloppily) mimics your ministrations. he tilts his head to deepen the kiss, savoring it before you inevitably pulled away. And when you did Follo let out the cutest little whine.
You hold his face in your palm, looking into his eyes which were as wide as saucers.
"I love you...you're so brave, and handsome. I mean I really, really mean it when I say you're my knight in shining armor." You press another kiss to his nose.
Yeah...you were gonna be the death of him. And damn if he didn't die happy.
a/n: and then he busts in his pants bc praise kink/j
Do I look like him you? (request) Art by remonucha
Zanka had accepted the chemical and dye scent emanating from your room as part of your charm and chaotic attitude.
Every few weeks, you transformed into a completely new canvas. He had learned to decipher your ever-changing identity by the color of your roots, loving the vibrant transition from neon blues to pastel purples.
When you first met Rudo, you sported a striking head of bubblegum pink hair. You leaned forward, letting your bright locks fall as you surveyed the reserved and intense boy, flashing him a warm smile that instantly made him shift uncomfortably. Zanka watched your every move from the sidelines, as you immediately tried to make the boy feel at home.
A few months passed, and your pink hair faded to a muted coral hue, signaling that it was time for a change. You spent an entire afternoon observing Rudo while the group relaxed, your eyes fixed on the unique and striking part in his hair.
"Your hair is great, Rudo," you blurted out, resting your chin on your palm. "The contrast is amazing. I think I'll give it a try."
Rudo blinked, turning a light pink, and mumbled something incoherent about how his hair was just like that.
Zanka, who was sitting nearby, tensed up. He glanced at Rudo's hair and then at you. A sudden, uncomfortable weight settled in his chest. Jealousy. He knew it was a ridiculous emotion, but seeing you so fixated on the Spherine's style wounded his pride.
The next day, you debuted the look. You had perfectly copied Rudo's exact pattern, making the striking contrast frame your face beautifully. When Rudo saw you, his eyes widened, and he gave you a rare, genuine smile, murmuring that it looked good on you.
Zanka, however, nearly choked on his drink. For the next three weeks, every time he looked at you, he was reminded of the guy who'd bathed him in poop. Every time you walked past a mirror and complimented your own hair, Zanka would mutter under his breath, cross his arms, and look away. He missed his girl, not the other version of Rudo. He wanted you to look at him with that same inspiration.
You weren't blind. You noticed how Zanka's jaw tightened whenever you mentioned hair dye, and how he'd stopped running his fingers through your hair when you sat together on the couch. Realizing you'd pushed his patience a little too far, you decided it was time for the next scheduled change, but with a very specific twist.
One rainy Tuesday, Zanka kicked open your bedroom door, exhausted after a long day of dealing with work. The room smelled strongly of hair dye again. He sighed, mentally preparing himself to see the look kept or changed to something more inspired by Rudo.
"Hey," you called from the bathroom. You came out, drying the ends of your freshly washed hair with a towel. Zanka froze, his boots glued to the floor.
The black tips were gone. In their place, your hair was dyed an identical reflection of Zanka's signature style, capturing the exact same tones and attitude he wore every day.
You looked at him through your damp bangs, a soft, teasing smile playing on your lips.
"What do you think? I think this style suits me way better."
Zanka's breath caught in his throat. The irritation that had been simmering for weeks melted instantly, replaced by a burning heat in his cheeks. He covered the lower part of his face with his hand, trying to hide the huge, goofy grin spreading across his face, but his bright red ears gave him away completely.
"You're such an idiot," he muttered huskily as he leaned closer and roughly pulled you against his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck. Finally, he ran his fingers through your hair again, gripping the strands tightly. "Don't ever change it again. Leave it like this."
You laughed, wrapping your arms around his waist.
"Jealous jerk."
"Shut up," he growled affectionately, kissing the top of your head, finally satisfied that you were matching with the only guy who truly mattered.
A high-pitched laugh echoed through the training yard, a sharp, breathless, and completely uncontrollable laugh.
You stood a few steps away, holding a clean towel and a water bottle, watching Zanka cover his face with both hands. His shoulders were shaking violently. Every time he tried to pull his hands away to look at you, a fresh wave of intense blush hit his face, and he was once again overcome by a fit of breathless giggles.
"Zanka? Are you okay?" you asked, taking a step toward him. "Did I say something wrong?"
"N-No!" he squealed, his voice cracking slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to channel his usual stern, battle-ready demeanor. "It's just... you can't just say things like that out of the blue! It's not fair!"
You blinked in disbelief. All you had done was hand him his water and mention how amazing his technique looked during today's session. You had specifically praised the fluid precision of his attacks, noting how his intense dedication made him look utterly captivating and reliable every time he wielded Assistaff. You meant every word, but you hadn't expected the usually stoic Zanka Nijiku to completely melt into a sea of giggles.
"But it's true," you said, a small smile playing on your lips. "You really are the most reliable person here. You're amazing, Zanka."
He let out another loud, stifled gasp behind his hands, his ears turning a bright crimson that contrasted hilariously with his hair.
"Stop! Stop it!" he laughed, the sound bubbling from his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain a tough expression, but the moment he made eye contact with you, his lips trembled, forming a wide, goofy grin. "A-Amazing? Me? I mean, just an average guy? But... hehe... do you really think I look fascinating?"
"I do," you teased gently, invading his personal space. Zanka was practically vibrating with nervous energy, his tough-guy persona completely shattered by a few sincere words. He buried his face in the towel you gave him, letting out a series of muffled, joyful giggles that warmed your heart.
bunnyboy!follo and catgirl!reader smut...and catgirl!reader teases follo for being such a soft little cottontail who's all squeak no nibble and he gets all flustered and tries to bite back but you always seem to know how to get his tongue! (you are a cat after all)
then you both go into heat and he's all subby but then it gets to the point he shuts his brain off and just fucks you until you both blackout at the same time...
Tw: Hurt, mentions of sh, mentions of blood, comfort
Zanka had always perceived you as a happy and calm person. Your presence always brought him comfort, and he was aware that it did the same for many of the people around you. You had many qualities he valued, and although he would never admit it out loud, he was deeply in love with youโฆ and would never allow anything to hurt you.
But he would always blame himself for not noticing sooner.
โโ โ โโ
The conversation among the team flowed as usual, like always, but something about your behavior began to feel out of place.
You kept glancing at the door repeatedly. You didnโt seem to be paying attention to the conversation. You only laughed when someone said, โisnโt that right, Y/N? Haha!โ, and Zanka was almost certain you were on the verge of crying. He could tell by the way you blinked forcefully and how you kept bringing your hands to your forearms and your legs over and over again. Not to mention how hard it was to ignore the glassy shine in your eyes.
Zanka decided to ignore it, thinking it was just in his head. Maybe you were exhausted from todayโs mission and were just waiting for the moment to leave โhe did the same when he wanted to disappearโ but even so, the unease wouldnโt leave him.
Finally, you stood up and walked out.
And even though he felt an almost unbearable urge to follow you, he chose not to.
That was his first mistake.
Zanka tried to keep up with the conversation naturally, but he simply couldnโt focus. Something felt wrong, heavy, and he knew it. It felt familiarโฆ like something he had experienced beforeโฆ when Enjin found him in the pit.
He couldnโt help but remember the way you touched your arms nervously, running your fingers along your forearms and pressing your hands tightly against your legs, as if somethingโ hurt.
Something in his head clicked. He didnโt know exactly what, he just knew he had to find you.
โZanka? Where are you going?โ Bro asked when he stood up, maybe a bit too quickly, from the table.
Zanka looked at everyone for a second. Several confused gazes were fixed on him. He blinked a couple of times, gripping his staff with a calm he didnโt feel.
โโฆIโll clean Lovely.โ
Without further explanation, he left the dining hall.
It was his second mistake to have waited so long.
โโ โ โโ
He walked through almost the entire facility, looking for you. He went to your room first and knocked on the door several times. No answer.
He frowned slightly before opening the door. Empty.
His pulse quickened.
He turned on his heel, moving faster now. He thought of the gymโฆ but then he heard it: a low, uneven sound.
A whimper.
It came from one of the hallway bathrooms.
Zanka froze in place.
For a second, he thought he had imagined it. His mind could play tricks on him, he knew that. He took a step forward to keep going, but he couldnโt.
The feeling in his chest became unbearable, so he turned back.
He stood in front of the door and knocked twice, firmly.
โHeyโฆ uhโฆ are you okay in there?โ his voice came out more controlled than he felt. His expression, as always, remained stoicโฆ but his eyes didnโt.
โYes!โ the response came too quickly, and too shaky. He recognized your voice immediately.
Zanka closed his eyes for a moment. โY/N.โ
His hand pressed against the door.
โOpen it.โ
โNoโ Iโm fine, reallyโโ
โPlease.โ he didnโt raise his voice, he was too worried in that moment to get agitated.
There was another second of silence. Then, a clumsy, rushed sound: the lock giving way.
The door opened just a few centimeters, but it was enough for him. He let out a heavy breath and gently pushed, just enough to step inside.
The world stopped.
His gaze dropped.
Blood.
Your hands.
Your arms.
The air left his lungs.
He stood completely still for one, two seconds.
Too long.
โโฆWhat are you doing?โ the question came out low. Cracked at a point that was barely noticeable.
You reacted immediately, trying to hide your arms against your body, stepping back.
โItโs nothingโโ
โStop.โ Zanka stepped forward firmly until he stood right in front of you.
His eyes stayed on you, avoiding looking down againโฆ avoiding confirming what he had already seen.
โWhat happenedโฆ?โ
You didnโt answer. You didnโt even try.
Your breathing was uneven. Your hands trembled.
โZanka, noโ itโs not what it looks likeโโ
โThen tell me what it is.โ
His voice remained low, controlled, but now there was something else in it.
Something that hurt.
You shook your head, pressing your lips together, as if any word would break you completely.
โI justโโ
You broke.
Zanka clenched his fists.
He wasnโt angry at you, he never would be.
He was angry at himself.
โI was there,โ he muttered, more to himself than to you. โYou were right in front of me.โ
He took another step.
His body nearly against yours as his hands lifted, not knowing where to place them or what to do, his staff forgotten against one of the bathroom walls behind him.
โAnd I didnโt see it.โ
You looked away, ashamed, trying to wipe your tears with the back of your hand.
โYou donโt have toโโ
โYes.โ he interrupted immediately. Not harsh, just certain. โYes, I do.โ
Silence fell between you, heavy. Zankaโs chest ached at the sight of you like thisโ how could he not have noticed before? You were always so happy, always showing your best face to everyone, supporting them unconditionallyโฆ but who was there for you?
Zanka exhaled slowly, as if trying to organize something he didnโt know how to say.
โLet me see.โ
โNoโโ you refused immediately.
โY/N.โ his tone shifted slightly. Softer.
Closer.
โLet me help you.โ
You hesitated.
Your hands lowered just a little.
Zanka brought a hand to your arms, looking into your eyesโ red, teary, swollen. The most beautiful eyes he had ever seen, filled with pain.
โCan I?โ
You nodded faintly.
But that small gesture was enough.
His fingers touched your wrist carefully, as if he feared hurting you more. He turned your arm slightly, observing without looking away this time.
He didnโt say anything at first.
He just breathed slowly.
With his jaw tense.
โโฆThis is going to sting a little,โ he murmured.
It wasnโt said with cruelty or threat, his voice was filled with concern and he was doing everything he could to stay calm and not break down crying right there with you, he knew that wasnโt what you needed in that moment.
He took what he needed, improvising with what was available in the bathroom. He cleaned carefully, with a precision that left no doubt: he had done this before.
The silence wasnโt uncomfortable.
Your shoulders began to tremble.
And Zanka noticed, but didnโt say anything right away.
He just finished bandaging carefully before speaking again.
โYou donโt have to hide from me.โ his words were soft.
You looked up, your eyes still wet.
โโฆI didnโt want you to see it.โ
Zanka held your gaze fully, for the first time.
โI know. But I already did.โ there was no reproach, only a raw truth.
He lowered his gaze for a second, as if choosing his next words carefully.
โI donโt understand everything.โ admitting it wasnโt easy for him. โButโฆ Iโm not going anywhere.โ
Your lips trembled.
โZankaโฆโ
He hesitated just a little.
Then, carefully, he placed a hand on your shoulder.
He didnโt pull you close abruptly, nor force you.
gotta be the saddest shit ive seen all day. he IS a minor. your shipping him with a man who's almost 30. dude..your the type of person to say "I HATE PEDOS!" and then go making pedo ships..I'm not saying enjin is one..but y'all are over here making comics about Zanka wanting to be graped.
this is sick and disgusting, I can not believe some people are like this, your supporting pedophilia btw, this is why people call anime weird, because of people like this making this weird shit
hi iโm not good with describing smut but follo with a โcockyโ partner that rides him until he canโt take it anymore??
๐ฃฒโJust a little too much..?๏ฝกห
โคท S/O!Follo x cocky!reader (following the request!) (หถห แต หหถ) .แ.แ
โข headcanons - very suggestive / MDNI!! - OOC!
โข warnings! Explicit / suggestive!
a/nโs! I wasnโt originally planning on writing anything explicit like this, but I thought about it, and since I want to write and help people feel seen and comforted, leaving out people who might find comfort in sexual activities didnโt really feel right since I know there are people out there who do like it, so I tried my best!! Iโm sorry if itโs not very well written!
๏ธถ๏ธถเญจเญง๏ธถ๏ธถ
โข When you start..
แฏ Follo.. who canโt help but tense up when heโs laid on his back, muscle tensing against the sheets as they scrunch up underneath him.
แฏ also gets distracted admiring you when youโre above him, your face dangling above his, part of him hope youโre let him kiss you, but youโre in the mood to be a bit of a tease.
แฏ and gets embarrassed when you pull away to straddle him, your hands gently resting on the sides of his torso, rubbing the skin with your thumbs as tenderly as you can as his stomach and chest rise with shaky breaths.
โข Getting breathlessโฆ
แฏ when you decide to stop teasing him and let yourself take him in the way he wanted,
แฏ you can hear the short and brief sounds of muffled groans stifled by his bitten lips as heโs made to feel everything, the warmth and the way your hips eventually meet his when full lowered.
แฏ letting your hand move away from where it was planted on the bedsheets, you raise it to gently caress his jaw before using your thumb to part his lips.
แฏ his eyesโ half liddedโ look up at you as you move, you watch his irises follow you as you lift yourself up and sink yourself back down, his now unlocked jaw letting out sweeter sounds than youโd thought were allowed.
แฏ thereโs a short and shocked breath that huffed out from his lungs as you constrained around him, loosening before cinching him once again.
โข Desperation..
แฏ Follo, who starts to whine when you move yourself faster than before, he feels like heโs being struck by waves as you go on and on.
แฏ the way his mouth salivated at the sight of you, sweat dripping onto his and mixing into the sheets as he felt his eyes water.
แฏ starting to beg, you roll your hips down to meet his, the contact jolting his as his hands wrapping around your waist, fingers resting on your lower back.
แฏ his palms needed into your sides as he became more desperate, you slowed your pace, becoming more concentrated and stalled, his legs began to shake as the feeling built but did overflow like how he wanted it to.
แฏ buckling his hips against yours but you drag your hands down to push them back to the base of the mattress to continue the slow, ribbing build up and motion.
โข Giving into his pleas..
แฏ Follo, who practically worships you with the way his hands cradle your upper body, lips quivering as he speaksโ โplease..โ you heard, the shiver of his body proving he needed the edge.
แฏ you lean down to press yourselves together, your chest against his as his arms fully wrapped around you, your knees digging into the bed as you sped up your hips, the sounds of skin against skin together as your breath reached his ears, and his reached yours.
แฏ the warmth tickled the corners of it, and as you finally gave into his begging you contracted around him once more, with a final few movements, engulfing and releasing him, the release felt like relief.
แฏ it culminated together as you relaxed against him, his body bearing your weightโ not that he cared, as he finally managed to kiss you like he wanted.
แฏ his lips were salty from the whiny tears, slightly chapped but still stops as you chuckled against his lips with a breath and kissed him back.
โข Aftercare..
แฏ Follo, who first and foremost, lets you collapse beside him to cuddle you, the duvet blanket tangling between your legs as he rubbed your shoulder softly and kissed it.
แฏ โyou were so mean..โ he joked while you gently pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing the tip of it with your thumb before pecking his cheeks.
แฏ if your legs were too cramped from the earlier movement, heโd clean you up without complaint, if they werenโt then youโd both shower together before dressing.
แฏ either way, the night always ends with cuddling.
๏ธถ๏ธถเญจเญง๏ธถ๏ธถ
โข itโs Addie here! Thereโs so much about this that Iโm not a fan of.. Iโve never actually written anything explicit, and so I tried my best, but Iโm not used to writing anything beyond something suggestive so I hope itโs okay! โแข. .แขโ
The weight of your words (zanka x reader) pt.6 FINALE:c
The morning sun filtered through the small window of Zankaโs room, casting a warm, golden glow across the messy tangle of blankets. The usual sharp scent of his polishing oils and cedarwood was overtaken by something softerโthe unmistakable, lingering warmth of the two of you together.
You woke up slowly, shifting against the mattress. Every muscle in your body felt heavy, pleasantly exhausted, and thoroughly loved.
When you moved, Zankaโs arm automatically tightened around your waist, pulling you flush against his bare chest. He was still half-asleep, his breathing deep and even, but the protective instinct was entirely awake. Your skin slid against his with an intimate, frictionless warmth, a quiet reminder of just how little clothing was left scattered on his floor from the night before.
You tilted your head back to look at him. His face was soft in sleep, completely stripped of his usual rigid, duty-bound tension. But as your hand traced the line of his collarboneโnoticing the faint, darkening mark your lips had left thereโZankaโs eyelashes fluttered open.
The moment his eyes met yours, reality crashed into his brain.
A furious, bright crimson blush immediately erupted across his cheeks, plunging down his neck and coloring his entire chest. He blinked rapidly, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were completely tangled up in his sheets, straddling his leg, with his arms locked securely around you.
"Y-You're awake," Zanka choked out, his voice incredibly deep and raspy from sleep. He looked like he wanted to pull the blanket over his face, but he refused to let go of your waist. "Good morning."
"Good morning," you smiled, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his jawline.
Zanka whimpered into the pillow, his shoulders shaking with a breathless, giddy laugh. "Please, don't start already. My heart can't take it. After last night, I didn't think it was possible to feel any more flustered, but you... you prove me wrong every single day."
"You didn't seem very flustered last night," you teased softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "You seemed pretty confident."
The blush on his face deepened to a near-impossible shade of purple. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, his hot breath tickling your skin as he groaned. "That's because of you. Every word you say to me... it completely takes over. I just wanted to show you how much I love you. I didn't know how else to say it."
You wrapped your arms around his broad back, holding him close. The journey from a flustered warrior who couldn't accept a compliment to the man holding you bare-skinned in his bed was complete. He didn't just hear your words anymore; he lived them.
A heavy, deliberate knock suddenly shattered the quiet room.
"Zanka! Training starts in twenty minutes!" Enjinโs loud voice boomed through the wooden door, followed by a low, knowing chuckle. "The others are already at the hall. Take your time, but don't make it obvious why you're late!"
Zanka froze, his eyes going wide with pure panic as Enjinโs footsteps faded down the hall. He looked down at you, completely mortified, but the sheer absurdity of the moment broke the tension. You burst into a quiet laugh, and after a second, Zanka joined inโa rich, happy sound that filled the room.
He leaned up, placing a firm, lingering kiss on your lips, his hand cupping your cheek with a tenderness that anchored you completely.
"Let them talk," Zanka whispered against your mouth, a confident, soft smile finally breaking through his blush.
You hurriedly got dressed and slipped out ofย Zankaโs room, heading toward the training hall through the back corridors.ย Zankaย arrived just a few minutes after you, desperately trying to look nonchalant as he adjusted his gear, though his hair was still slightly damp and messy.
The moment you both walked into the main hall, the atmosphere shifted.
Riyoย paused mid-stretch, her eyes darting between you andย Zankaย with a knowing, mischievous smirk. A few other Cleaners exchanged subtle, amused glances.ย Enjinย was leaning against the wall, taking a slow sip from his mug, looking entirely too smug as he gave Zanka a tiny, mocking salute with his eyes.
Zanka stiffened instantly, his shoulders squaring up rigidly as he tried to ignore the heavy silence. He looked straight ahead, but the bright crimson flush crawling up the back of his neck gave him away completely.
Before either of you could slip away to different sides of the room, Rudo marched right up to the two of you. He had his arms crossed, his dark eyes narrowed in a mix of genuine annoyance and confusion.
"Hey," Rudo barked, pointing a finger directly at Zanka. "Did either of you hear that loud-ass noise last night? There was this constant, heavy banging against the wall right next to my quarters. I swear it sounded like a stray Aberrant Aberration was trying to break through the building."
Zanka froze entirely. The crimson flush on his neck exploded across his face, turning his cheeks a violent, impossible shade of purple. He opened his mouth to speak, but only a high-pitched, strangled choke came out.
"I couldn't sleep at all because of it," Rudo grumbled, entirely oblivious as he turned his sharp gaze toward you. "It kept stopping and starting, and then it would get way louder. Seriously, if some junk or equipment fell over in the back storage rooms, you two need to go clean it up right now. It's driving me crazy."
Across the room, Enjin suddenly choked on his drink, turning around to cough into his fist to hide his booming laughter. Riyo had completely given up on stretching and was now hiding her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking violently with silent giggles.
"R-Rudo," Zanka finally managed to wheeze out, his voice cracked and incredibly flustered as he gripped his Vital Instrument tightly just to keep his hands from shaking. "It was... it was just a loose shutter. Or training equipment shifting. It's fine. Don't worry about it."
"A loose shutter doesn't make rhythmic thumping sounds, Zanka," Rudo snapped back, crossing his arms tighter and scoffing. "Whatever it was, fix it tonight. I'm trying to get actual rest so I can train."
With a final, irritated huff, Rudo turned on his heel and walked away to grab his gear.
The second Rudo was out of earshot, Zanka buried his face entirely in his hands, his broad shoulders trembling as a breathless, mortified groan escaped him. You stepped a little closer, your shoulder brushing his as you hid a smile.
"Tonight," you whispered softly, leaning in just enough so only he could hear, "we'll have to be a little quieter."
Zanka peeked through his fingers, his eyes wide and completely undone by your words, a helpless, giddy smile breaking through his ultimate embarrassment.
โโGHETTO LOVE STORY???โโ ๐๐๐๐ก๐ข๐๐ค๐ฎ๐ญ๐โบ๐๐๐ง.
. The GACHIAKUTA men get called 'Bro' and they aren't happy about it.
๐๐จ๐ง๐ ๐ซ๐๐ช: Ghetto Love Story
๐๐ญ๐๐ซ๐ซ๐ข๐ง๐ :: (SEPERATE) Enjin, Gris, Bro, Zodyl, Tamsy, August, Corvus, Follo, Jabber, Regto(Taken place in the past.), (AgedUp!)Zanka, and Rudo
๐๐ฎ๐ญ๐ก๐จ๐ซ'๐ฌ ๐๐จ๐ญ๐: This Smau is just straight bullshit Lol. Lots of memes maybe some OOC. Warning for Zanka's: He made a joke abt women but that's it. Rudo's is a little angsty, sorry ๐ Tamsy is a bit of a stoic dickhead but nothing else that major. It might sound a bit repetitive so that's mb. GACHIAKUTA is so much fun to write for especially Follo and Zanka they are the FUNNEST to write for, which is crazy because I was never that crazy about either of them. Oh yeah btw sorry about the quality drop, the SS on my phone are just buns in this app.
zanka nijiku is safe in your embrace, sleeping comfortably, as you run your fingers through his hair endlesslyโmassaging his scalp and humming and whispering close to his ear. [ request. / 812 words ]
you had forced him out of the training area, practically begging him to stop overworking himself and just take a break. when you finally urged him to let both him and lovely assistaff to rest, you dragged him to his room and plopped down on the bed with him (after setting lovely assistaff comfortably on the wall, of course).
zanka had fallen asleep almost immediately the moment you took him in your arms. he buried his face in the crook of your neck and wrapped an arm around you.
a couple of minutes in, heโs already snoring softlyโproof heโs let himself let loose after all the days he spent killing his body by training excessively.
and while your arm starts to tingle with numbness, you forget about it because of how peaceful zanka looks asleep in your arms.
โyou act nonchalant, sometimes harsh, and youโve got a sharp tongue,โ you said to yourself more than to zanka as you continuously ran your fingers through his hair, โyetโฆ beneath that strong facade you put on is a soft heart.โ
zanka softly groaned at the sensation of your fingernails against his scalp, but you didnโt seem to realize his waking and went on with your rambling.
โyouโre so cute when you fake anger,โ you giggled to yourself. โthe way your brows furrow, and how your lips puckerโฆ i wanna kiss you so bad, you know that?โ
oh. zanka for sure feels like his face is starting to heat upโwhether from embarrassment or fluster, he isnโt sure.
โafter everything you went through, youโre still so thoughtful to others, and i hope youโd be kind to yourself as well. youโre so strong, zanka. so strong, i admire you for that.โ
tears started forming and threatened to fall from zanka's eyes, and his heart flipped a little at your words. how can you say such tender words towards him? he who is always so aggressive on the battlefield, he who only knows to seek victory and the best version of himself no matter the consequences.ย
โyouโre so hardworking it hurts.โ you leaned closer to zanka, your cheek lying on top of his head. โi hope you take care of yourselfโฆ iโm scared one day iโll be gone, and you wonโt eat properly and on time. i donโt want that. iโll haunt you forever.โ
zanka has no idea how long you've been talking to the asleep him, but he's starting to hear your voice strainโperhaps from the dryness of your throat or maybeโฆ maybe you're about to cry?
ah, he won't let that happen.
with his eyes still closed, he moved his hand to feel and interlace it with yours. he lifted your hand up to his lips and kissed it softly.
โhey, i'll take care of myself, hm?โ he says, his voice a little deeper than usual.
โyouโฆโ you narrowed your eyes on him. โhow long have you been awake?!โ
zanka's brain fully awoken after your sudden outburst, your face was a red mess, and you were looking at him so suspiciously.
โuh, some time when you were tellinโ me i'm nonchalant,โ he answered slowly, scared of the punishment that would come after.
you slammed a palm to your forehead, cursing yourself for talking out loud.
โwhat? are you embarrassed i heard โem?โ
you looked at him with an exasperated expression. โwhat do you think?!โ
zanka chuckled. โyou sounded like you were about to cry.โ
โi hate you.โ
โthat's not what you said earlier.โ
โzanka!โ
he only shrugged at your accusatory tone.
โwhatever,โ you continued. โdon't expect to hear anything good from me anymore.โ
โiโ youโโ
โi'm just kidding.โ you grinned sheepishly at him and pinched his cheeks until they became red from the pressure.
you knew he lived on praises and acknowledgement, and he definitely likes it more when it comes from you. you were just a little embarrassed because you were saying things you couldn't bring yourself to actually tell to his face, but you're glad it's done now.
โsee now that your brows are furrowed and you're pouting?โ you teased him with a smile. โso cute.โ
โyou're cuter,โ zanka mumbled.
โwhat?โ
โi saidโฆ nevermind!โ
โno, you said somethiโ...โ
zanka took the sides of your face in his hands and leaned in to give you a kiss long enough to wash away the thought of wanting to know what he just said.
โyou can't attack me like that, zanks,โ you said as you parted from him.
zanka chuckled. โjust so you'd stop glazinโ me.โ
โacting like you don't like it, now.โ
zanka only feigned offense in response, but you know just how bad he likes it when you go on and on with your praises for him.
Hii, can I request a fic where the reader is sick and Follo is taking care of her, but the plot twist is that Follo drugged them to keep her sick state and dependent of him.
Damn Your Sickness
Yandere Follo x Reader
Word count: 2.4k
Summary: The worst part of it all isnโt even the betrayal.
Warnings: Power imbalance, forced relationship, drugging, gaslighting, infantilization, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
Author's Notes: You're a genius, anon, KJNDKJNDDJSJ!
The first week, everyone at work had been sympathetic.
Messages were constantly blowing up your phone, people asking if you needed groceries, if you wanted company, if there was anything they could do to help. (As if you'd actually say yes, but hey, it's the thought that counts, right?). Your supervisor even ordered you to take a medical leave, insisting the position would be waiting for you. You're not even the type to call in sick, so you'd spent the first few days text-apologizing far more than anyone asked you to. But then, as the days bled into weeks, you had to make that awkward call back to request an even longer leave of absence. Because how do you explain that you're just... not getting better?
You lived aloneโor, well, you used to, before Follo basically moved himself in. Your boyfriend always managed to find himself at your door. Morning. Afternoon. Evening.
He'd recently taken on work as a Giver, and you knew how relentless his hours were. Whenever you manage to raspy-voice a protest, insisting that he had better things to do, he only smiles. It's that soft, incredibly patient smile of his, reassuring you that he doesn't mind. He even chuckles a little, rolling his eyes as he jokes how this is the only way he can hang with you, with your different work schedules recently.
So, you let him stay. You let him press the heavy ceramic mug to your lips, whispering for you to drink every last drop.
Yesterday was one of those long stretches where his job kept him away until past midnight, again. And when you woke up this morning, the heavy weight in your chest felt just lighter, your head didn't throb when you blinked. For a fleeting second, you actually felt a spark of genuine hungerโnot the nausea that usually accompanied the thought of food.
Then, Follo returned. He immediately set to work, bringing you your morning tea. But just as he set the steaming mug on your nightstand, a sharp crash echoed from the kitchen had him rushing out of the room in haste.
โThere, resting on the white porcelain edge of the washbasin, was his keyring.
You hadn't even been thinking about the keys at first. You had only dragged yourself up because, suddenly, a wave of heat crashed over you. Panicked by the spike in your symptoms, you had tried to call out his name, but from the kitchen, the noise of him cleaning the spill drowned you out completely. He couldn't hear you.
A wave of guilt had washed over you then. He was already so busy, already doing so much as a Giver, and you hated the thought of burdening him further just because you need a few fever reducers. So, on second thought: you'll just do it yourself. It takes a ridiculous, almost laughable amount of minutes just to swing your dead-weight legs over the edge of the bed.
Your feet hit the cold floorboards and you instantly swayโgripping the washbasin for dear life while the room spins violently. You remembered laughing once, mostly at yourself of how ridiculous you'd become. You gripped the edge of the washbasin, your fingers freezing over the cold metal of the keys.
You know there's a wooden box in the bottom nightstand drawer. Follo always claimed it held rare herbs he'd gone out of his way to buy for you. A private little part of you feels terrible for snooping, but desperate times, right?
โIt took every ounce of your remaining strength to sink to the floor, sliding the key into the brass lock of the wooden box.
You expect to find the usual suspects, maybe some over-the-counter fever reducers. But no. Instead, your fingers wrap around a sleek little amber glass dropper bottle. โThe labels are handwritten, which would be charming if the wordsย belladonnaย andย digitalisย weren't staring right back at you. Concentrated sedatives. Muscle paralytics. You bring the glass dropper to your nose, taking a tentative sniff, and underneath the harsh bitterness of the chemicals is a faint, sweet scent.
โThe exact same flavor that's been in your tea, your broths, your water. Every single day. For weeks.
โOh.
You tried to move. Your mind screamed at you to run, to hide the bottle, to drag yourself to the front door. You remembered trying to think, too. Not panickingโnot yet. Panic felt too expensive somehow, there had to be another explanation.
Herbal extracts could be poisonous in the wrong quantities. Apothecaries stocked strange ingredients all the time. Follo had always been meticulous; perhaps he'd purchased them for something else. Perhaps the dropper had been used for tinctures. Perhapsโ
You collapsed against the base of the nightstand, then, clutching the small amber vial to your chest.
Sweat prickled along the back of your neck. Your thoughts, so wonderfully clear only minutes before, began bending ever so slightly like reflections in disturbed water.
Only then did your gaze drift toward the untouched teacup, steam no longer curling from its surface. You couldn't remember how long it had been sitting there. You couldn't remember whether you'd taken a sip. You couldn't remember aย frighteningย number of things.
With trembling hands, you tried reaching for your phone instead. It wasn't farโjust across the bedside tableโbut the distance felt laughable now, your arm refusing to obey like it had only moments ago.
You managed half a step, then another. You sank to the floor before gravity could decide to throw you there instead, your shoulder knocking painfully against the side of the bed, the locked box remained open beside you.
You hated how familiar the feeling was.
How many mornings had started exactly like this? How many times had you accepted it as another cruel turn in whatever mysterious illness had taken hold of you?
You had no idea how long you lay there, paralyzed in your own skin, listening to the agonizingly slow tick of the clock.
When the door finally clicked open, his soft footsteps padded back into the room, a fresh cloth in his hand, his expression open and bright. His eyes found you first, curled awkwardly against the bedside.
Concern immediately softened his features.
"...What happened?"
The words were almost painfully gentle.
He crossed the room at once and knelt beside you as if you had simply tripped, one hand already brushing damp strands of hair away from your forehead. "Look at you, you shouldn't have gotten out of bed."
His gaze scanned the space, instantly landing on the open drawer, the keys, and the bottle clenched in your trembling fist. If surprise touched him, it vanished so quickly you wondered later whether you'd imagined it.
"Oh," an awkward laugh escaped him, a soft, breathy sound, "so that's what this is."
You jerked weakly away from the hand against your face.
The bottle you'd managed to keep hold of scraped clumsily against the floor as you lifted it between you, your grip so unsteady it threatened to fall a second time. The accusation never emerged as clearly as you'd intended, your thoughts refused to line themselves into neat sentences.
"What..." you rasped, even your own voice sounded weak. "What is this?"
For a heartbeat, he only looked at you.
Then, to your utter disbelief, he laughed. A small, affectionate sound, almost under his breath.
โ"Come on," he said, reaching toward your hand as though you were a frightened child clutching something dangerous. His fingertips brushed yours, patient rather than forceful. "You really are still so sick. You're just seeing things, alright? Let's get you back to bed before you hurt yourself."
The bottle slipped another inch through your weakening grasp.
"No..."
The protest came out rough, barely louder than a whisper.
"You put this in my food."
His smile faltered only slightly.
You tried again. The words tangled together, but the meaning remained unmistakable. You knew the truth now, and no matter whatever haze clouded your mind, that fact wasn't moving.
"[You]." Another patient sigh from him, he spoke your name with heartbreaking tenderness. "You've had a fever, and you've barely slept a full night. They can cause confusion."
His hand found your forehead, checking your temperature. The same gesture he'd performed dozens of times before.
โ"...You don't even know what you're talking about right now."
"I do, you've been poisoning me," you snapped. The sentence emerged stronger than you expected.
"As if I'd ever do such a thing."
"Stop lying!" You're practically screaming now, though it feels more like a pathetic whimper. You slammed your weak fist against his shoulder, refusing to let go of the bottle. "You've been poisoning me! You made me take a break from my job, you kept me trapped hereโ"
โ"Hey, stop it, you're getting worked up," he interrupts, his hands swooping in to pin your wrists. "Just give me the bottle. You're losing it, I'd never hurt you."
"I am not confused!" you fiercely insisted, your eyes burning with tears of fury.
With a final surge of will that defied the paralysis spreading through your limbs, you hurled the amber bottle across the room.
It smashed against the far wall, a harsh, shattering explosion of glass and brown liquid that stained the pale wallpaper. The sound was deafening in the otherwise silent house. But Follo didn't even flinch. He didn't turn to look at the mess. His eyes searched yours, waiting almost hopefully, as though expecting the panic to break.
When it didn't, he rose to his feet, calmly brushing the dust off his pants, his eyes turning entirely flat and devoid of warmth. He looked down at your shivering form on the floor, and didn't even bother to deny it anymore.
"Alright," he said, looking at the wet stain on the wallpaper. "You know. Now... what are you going to do about it?"
All the righteous fury inside you is instantly snuffed out.
And God, he was right, wasn't he? You stopped dead. Because when you actually thought about itโreally, truly thought about itโwhatย couldย you do? You lived alone. The neighbors should be at work right now, and it had been days since you'd even bothered to reply to your supervisor's messages. You were entirely on your own.
โYou tried to drag yourself backward, but your fingers just twitched uselessly against the wood. (A total joke, honestly, considering how fiercely you'd just thrown that vial.) When you begged your legs to move, nothing happened.
And of course he noticed.
"Look at you," he continued. "You can barely walk on your own. Who are you going to scream for?"
He actually paused, waiting.
Not because he expected an answer, obviously. No, he did it because he knew, just as well as you did, that there simply wasn't one.
Your mouth opened once, then closed again. Whatever righteous declaration had surged through you only moments ago dissolved somewhere between your mind and your tongue, lost beneath the mounting heaviness spreading through your limbs. Your fingers, still stubbornly wrapped around the bottle, no longer obeyed when you tried to tighten them.
Follo watched the effort with a sigh. "You know, I was hoping we wouldn't have to do this today."
He leaned down and lifted you, but you weren't about to just let him take youโnot without a fight, anyway. You managed to dig your fingernails into the fabric of his shirt, tearing at the collar, trying with everything left in you to twist out of his grip.
โBut barely even flinched, just clamping his arms tighter around you, pinning your flailing elbows against your ribs with a grunt of mild irritation.
โWithin seconds, the brief burst of adrenaline evaporated, leaving your muscles completely spent. Your limbs fell away, hanging like lead and completely useless as he gathered your limp form fully into his arms and carried you back to the bed. He laid you down against the pillows, smoothing your blankets before lifting your heavy, trembling hand to press a kiss against your knuckles. You flinched at it.
Turning slowly, his eyes drifted over to the far wall where the shattered glass lay.
"It really is such a shame you broke that one," he murmured. "But it doesn't matter, I always keep spares."
He walked over to the nightstand, reaching into his pocket for a vial you hadn't even seen. To your horror, he uncorked it and began to pour a clear liquid directly into the half-finished cup of tea sitting beside your bed. "I'll just have to make this batch a little stronger since you decided to spill your medicine."
You tried to scream, tried to thrash, but your body was a frozen cage. You could only watch in absolute terror as he sat down on the edge of the mattress.
"I know."
His voice softened immediately.
"I know."
One arm slipped carefully behind your shoulders, drawing your limp weight upright until you rested against his chest. He adjusted you, making certain your neck was supported, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face with the backs of his fingers.
"There, much better," he said. His other hand came up, his thumb and forefinger catching your jaw, forcing your chin upward to tilt your head back.
The cold rim of the ceramic mug pressed hard against your lips. You tried to turn away, though it was hardly movement at all.
"Don't fight it," he said, tipping the tea further.
Warm liquid pooled against your lips; some escaped down your chin, , sure, but most of it found its way past them. Its sweetness coated your tongue.
You coughed weakly, he paused just long enough for you to breathe. Then lifted the cup again.
"I know you don't understand. But I tried."
Another swallow.
"I told myself I'd let you recover... I really believed I could."
Another.
"But I love you far too much..."
He continued, his forehead rested briefly against your temple.
"...to ever risk you thinking you don't need me."
The darkness didn't wait long this time. It rushed in from the edges of your blurred vision, pulling you under before the mug even left your lips. Your head fell back against his shoulder, you thought you were still trying to fight and still trying to remember something desperately important. But the thought slipped away before you could grasp it.
He laid you back against the pillows with the same meticulous care he'd shown every day before, the blankets settled over you. He lingered only long enough to smooth your hair one last time, then he extinguished the bedside lamp.
The last thing you remembered was the sound of the deadbolt clicking into place from the outside of your bedroom door, followed by his muffled voice echoing through the solid wood.
"Rest up, [You]. I'll help you draft your resignation letter tomorrow."
It had only been a few days since you and Zanka had fought. Usually, you argued over trivial things that you'd forget within minutes, and you'd both go back to being "the most inseparable couple in the world," according to Rudo.
But this time, things had escalated too quickly. Zanka had been incredibly frustrated and angry with himself for losing to Jabber not once, but twice. You'd been there for him throughout, not just as his girlfriend, but as his nurse.
Sometimes Eishia would leave the HQ to help her grandmother in the city, and you'd be in charge of the infirmary. Fortunately, Zanka was the only patient, and he was already recovering.
But after Rudo and Enjin's visit, he could only feel miserable. There was no way he could move on after embarrassing himself so drastically in front of Enjin and you.
You insisted that everyone has good days and bad days, but for Zanka, every day was bad, especially if it involved Jabber.
There was no way to change his mind; he started yelling and cursing so badly that it pushed you over the edge, and you both ended up exploding and fighting.
After several days of only exchanging brief answers about his injuries and medication, the day arrived when you had to change his bandages. He was already standing in front of you, shirtless, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking anywhere but in your direction. You took a deep breath and began changing his bandages. Zanka glanced at you out of the corner of his eye and noticed how you frowned to avoid touching him. He couldn't help but smile, but he had to turn his head away so you wouldn't notice.
When you finally finished, you turned around to dispose of the used bandages and gauze when you felt firm hands on your waist.
Zanka began to hug you from behind; his grip was firm yet gentle, and you couldn't help but melt in his warmth. He buried his face in your hair and leaned against your shoulder.
"I miss you," he whispered huskily, making your legs tremble.
"Zanka, I..."
"No," he interrupted, "it was my fault."
He held you even tighter. You put down what you were holding and turned to face him. After so many days, you were finally looking into each other's eyes. You smiled weakly at the way he was looking at you.
"It wasn't. You were going through a rough time, and I didn't know how to support you, that's all."
You cupped his face in your hands as he continued to hold onto your waist. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes never leaving yours.
"Even so, I acted like a jerk. Please forgive me."
"It's okay, Zanka, my love. We're okay."
With that, you both leaned in and kissed. It was a slow, tender kiss. There was no rush to prove anything or to speed things up. After all, they were together, and that was what mattered now.
"If you were the one beside me, I would've been happier."
Zanka Masterlist. Enjin Ver.
In the Nijiku household, โloveโ is expressed differently, or should you say, it was never even expressed at all.
Everyone in his family seems to avoid it like the plague.
Zanka found himself doing the same thing, building a wall himself for that one word.
But of course, no matter how disciplined a person can beโtemptation will always be present.
Testing the very foundation of his so-called fortress.
And you, his best friend, is the exact epitome of what he desperately tries to avoid.
Your presence sets his thoughts on fire, a sudden beat he canโt control. He steals a glance, caught in a trance, as every detail grips his soul.
Zanka told himself that you're "dangerous".
Dangerous because he's frightened of the consequences of letting himself love.
Dangerous because whatever he sets his whole soul and heart toโhe always fails.
Dangerous because you're all that his wall needed to collapse.
So when you told him one night after a missionโwhen you're both all alone in the common roomโthat you love him?
His breath stuttered, his pulse fluttered, but your heart, he shattered.
Instead of warmth spreading across his cheeks at the confession, his face darkened.
Eyes turning a deeper shade of blue, like the deep, deep seas.
Beautiful in a way that drowned your already pained heart.
His rejection wasn't immediate, but the shift of emotion and body language is enough as a sign.
Zanka awkwardly rubs his neck, three slit brows furrowing as he stares at the ground instead, before giving a hundred excuses as to why it'd never work.
But he never denied that he feels the same.
You argued, pointed out what was obvious, and told him to face what he feels.
Zanka decided to walk away rather than listening to what was actually true.
And up until this day, Zanka still regrets that decision.
Because, maybe, he would've been happier by your side as you embraced and told him that his efforts were enough.
Maybe, he would've been happier at your side as you make him feel the love that his family had always lacked.
Maybe, Zanka would've been happier sitting by your side as you showed him what love really was all about.
Selfish, he was.
Now, he can't help but question himself.
What's the point of becoming the better version of himself when you're not here anymore to see it for yourself?
What's the point of it all; when instead of feeling you beside him, here you are, sat beside someone else that would never be him.
I love making Zanka suffer in my angst fics, I'll write one where it's the reader tho
