Thinking about being soft with either re4 or re9 Leon. He’s finally home and he’s beyond exhausted laying in your stomach and you playing with his hair and running your hands over his scars as he’s falling asleep. He didn’t deserve what happened to him over the years :(
a/n; I love soft Leon. He's such a sweetheart, I just wanna hold him and love him and let him retire early 😞 I kinda took the basic idea of this and spread it out over this piece, so I hope it's still good!!
sum; re4!leon is exhausted after a mission, so much so that he can't be bothered to hide how badly he'd been crying on the way back just from pure exhaustion and missing you so badly
content; fluff, comfort, leon being honest and vulnerable (he cries☹️)
wc; 1.9k
Leon didn't cry often. Not because he didn't let himself, but because he had made it so far in life without feeling the consistent need to do so. Sure, he'd cry every now and then, but even when something major happened to him, it just... didn't happen. He let himself be sad, he let himself be angry or tired or anxious, but the tears often didn't follow like they did when he was a little boy.
Meeting you helped that. Something about you helped him a lot, helped him find safety in a person for what he felt was the first time. Over the first year of being with you, his body naturally let the tears flow when it got bad. The first time, he apologized through sobs, trying to hide from you as he fought to stop the flow of hot tears. You never told him to calm down, to stop, to get a hold of himself. You just held him once he stopped running from you. You let him fal against your chest, curled against you as he cried into your shoulder and gripped onto you like you were going to leave if he didn't hold you like you were his lifeline.
Leon still didn't cry often. You cried a lot, much more emotional than him, often crying over movies or books or how small and cute an animal looked. Leon found it adorable and so human that you felt so deeply. You rubbed off on him over the years, and now, with everything piled up from Spain, Leon came home around 6 p.m. with tears staining his cheeks, eyes puffy and red, breath uneven and shaky as he dropped his keys and bag, barely making it to the couch before he collapsed.
You heard the door open and close, so you rushed out to greet him, only to have your heart squeeze when you found him, body shaking from exhaustion and crying. You stepped carefully to the couch, kneeling down next to it before you reached to gently press a hand to his back. He looked at you, a small hiccup leaving him.
"Hey," you whispered quietly, offering a gentle smile as your other hand brushed hair out of his face. "Gotta cut your hair soon, 's gettin' long again." You observed quietly.
Leon sniffled, blinking some tears away so his vision would clear up momentarily to look at you and take in your features. He reached out, shaky palm touching your cheek. You pressed your cheek into his touch, kissing the spot where his palm and wrist met. It stayed quiet as his tears slowed, comforted and relieved by the reassurance that you were still here, still loving him, still his.
"I almost died." His voice shook. Your heart squeezed, but you let it sit in the back of your mind as you stood and gestured for him to sit up. He was dirty, very much in need of a shower, but his emotional comfort came first. He sat up, and you took your spot next to him. He didn't hesitate to crawl to your lap, head burying into your chest. He was like a large dog that never understood how big he was, never getting rid of his lapdog habits. You liked it. Especially in moments such as these.
"I'm glad you made it home." You whispered softly, hand brushing through his hair.
"I almost didn't." He seemed to dwell on how close he'd come to death, how close he'd come to that goddamn parasite being the reason he almost never saw you ever again.
"Lee," you lifted his head, making him look at you so you could cup his cheeks. "You made it, baby. You're home. You're safe."
"I was so scared." Another sob bubbled from his throat, and you let him hide himself, holding onto you tighter than he ever had in the past. "I was so fucking scared. I wasn't sure I'd make it back to you, and it was so late when I left, you were barely awake a-and the last thing I would've done with you was leave you behind in the middle of the night while you were barely awake to hear me say goodbye." He practically heaved, clutching you tighter as his fingertips dug into your clothes.
You let him rant, sob, and squeeze you for as long as he needed. It took another twenty minutes for him to calm down, to realize that all of the 'almost' and 'what if' scenarios weren't reality. Once he eased out of his panic, he melted against you, beyond exhausted and drained.
"Just close your eyes." You muttered softly, laying back on the couch. He shifted, laying his head on your belly. "I'll be here. Just rest. Take your time and breathe." You brushed through his hair, fingers gently massaging his scalp.
"Will you shower with me when I wake up?" He asked, looking up at you with glossy eyes.
"I'll do that and whatever you need." You nodded. Leon snuggled closer, holding tight around you like it was the only thing regulating his nervous system right now. It was, and you both knew that. Leon laid there, dozing off over a twenty minute stretch of time, your fingers soothing through his hair and massaging his shoulders and shoulder blades, his body finally going limp as he let himself slip into a much needed sleep, finally realizing he was safe, you were safe, and you were still here for him to come home to, for him to love and take care of for the rest of your days together. That's all he wanted.
He didn't wake up until the clock ticked just past 10 p.m., long past dinnertime. He should've stayed asleep, and you hoped he would've, but he heard a car revving their engine a little too loud outside the apartment building, causing it to give that backfire sound that sounded far too similar to a gunshot. Leon grasped onto you, heart dropping as he shot upright, only to be dizzy with how quickly he'd rushed to try and stand. You eased him back to lay over you, letting him groan.
"It was just a car. They've been doing it all week." You reassured him.
"Sorry." He mumbled.
"Don't be." You slid a hand over his forehead to hold his hair back, making his brows furrow.
"That's my forehead." He looked up at you.
"I know." You hummed, scanning his temples and face for any bruises. You noticed a cut on his cheek, clearly not taken care of. You found another bruise at his cheekbone opposite of the cut. "Let's get you in the shower so I can make sure you're not hiding any cuts or anything from me."
"I'm not." He huffed, but he followed your lead as you stood up with him, tailing behind as you went straight to the bathroom and reached for the first aid kit beneath the bathroom sink, readied for once he was cleaned off.
"Do you want a bath or a shower?" You asked.
"Shower then bath?" He asked, quiet, almost shy.
You nodded. "We'll wash the yuck away, then we can just soak and talk."
You let the shower warm up, helping Leon out of his clothes to avoid having him hurt his muscles further. It ached to move, to stand. You gave him a scan, only finding a few scratches and bruises along his body. You helped him into the shower, letting him soak in the hot water. He tilted his head back, wetting his hair. You scrubbed it with shampoo, and he rinsed it. You ran conditioner through the ends of his hair, letting it sit as you washed yourself. Usually, Leon would wash you in return, but you refused to let him pamper you when he needed your pampering more. Once you were both clean and rinsed fully, you let the tub fill with water. Leon had to hold onto you to ease down, muscles of his legs burning with the slow descent.
"The water will help you feel better." You reminded him, reaching out to gently massage the tense muscles of his achey thighs.
"I know." He whined, leaning back. He let you massage him, allowing you to help him stretch his arms and torso to relieve some of the ache.
After about 15 minutes, you let some water drain, refilling the tub with hot water. You knew baths weren't the best for water bills, but he needed it. Once you finished your gentle massage, he turned around and leaned back into you, head laying against your shoulder. You played with his hair as it dried. Having such short hair made his hair quick to dry, combined with the lack of thickness. He had a lot of hair, but it wasn't thick or thin, just normal. Before he dozed off again, you coaxed him into getting out of the tub. He reluctantly agreed, letting you guide him to stand as you dried him off gently. Once he was dry, you cleaned the scratches and scrapes, placing a bandaid or bandage over some. You applied some ointment to the bad bruises, being extra gentle to not apply pressure to the ones that made him stifle a hiss.
Leon knew you'd always take care of him, but he was still not fully used to the routine of your love. Despite being together for a few years now, he was always a little awkward with you taking care of him. Now, he wanted to thank you, but you hated it. You didn't want him to feel like he needed to show gratitude for the bare minimum of being loved. So once you finished caring for his bruises and scrapes and scratches, he pulled you close. Both of you were still unclothed, but it didn't mean anything. The skin-to-skin helped, if anything. Leon held you close to him, and you returned his embrace.
"I love you. So much." You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, just below where you'd placed a small bandage over the cut on his cheekbone.
"I love you so much more." His voice shook, but he wasn't crying this time. Just the sheer love and gratitude making him a little emotional.
"You wanna lay back down? Or are you hungry?" You asked softly.
"Can we go back to sleep?" He asked, still holding on.
"Yeah. Let's get to the bedroom." You nodded, letting him lead to the bedroom. Neither of you bothered with clothes, unconcerned with temperature with how warm Leon stayed 24/7. It was nothing new, especially after missions. Leon just needed to feel you to realize that it was all real and not a dream. He'd even have you pinch him sometimes.
You two laid together, blankets loosely draped over your bodies. "I'll make us some breakfast in the morning."
"Can we just order something? I don't wanna get up til we have to.." He asked quietly.
"'Course we can. We'll order breakfast and I'll cook for lunch and dinner. Sound okay?"
"Okay." He curled his head to lay lower against your chest, tugging your waist closer to him to feel as close as humanly possible.
"You're home. You're safe. And I'm still here, forever and always." You gently soothed over his back, tracing scars along his back, arms, and chest with your nails, coaxing his body to relax just with your touch.
He'd definitely need to request a real vacation soon.
Lando once said in an interview that he’s never been the little spoon, right? Now, imagine a Lando x Reader scenario: Lando’s had a terrible day after a DNF and comes home to cuddle with his wife. She decides to make his dream come true and turns him into the little spoon, he gets all emotional and says something like "this feels so good, I want to be the little spoon forever," and she replies "Forever and ever, my prince" and they fall asleep just like that :(
okay so i changed it up a lil bit but the core idea is still the same, hope you'll like it babyy<3 @00brat
let me hold you
pairing: lando norris x f!reader
contains/warnings: hurt/comfort, upset lando, fluff, lots of kissing and cuddling, established relationship, showering together, no smut just a bit of nudity - still - minors DNI!
summary: sometimes a tough guy needs to feel a little small too, everyone needs a bit of pampering. Lando finally gets to experience being the little spoon after a horrible race day.
word count: 2.2k
masterlist
enjoy!<3
The atmosphere in the paddock was everything but pleasant. After you saw his car give out and literally just stop out of nowhere in the middle of a straight zone, you knew the whole race was over for Lando. It wasn't fair. He was amazing all weekend, and now, as he was fighting for a podium finish, technical issues completely ruined the whole thing for him. You were sure that he was feeling miserable, and you were too, honestly.
You snatched the headset off your head with a heavy sigh, rushing to him as soon as you saw him walking toward you with those heavy, slumped steps, his head hanging low. He was looking dreadful, all sweaty and his eyes glassy, his skin flushed, whole face pink, hair damp.
You wrapped your arms around him, never really caring about the mess of a state he was in after races. You held him tightly as he buried his face in your neck, breathing you in.
"I'm sorry.." his apology was muffled as his lips were still pressed against your skin, but you could hear it, the tremor in his voice, the light crack in it, hurt seeping though. "You've got nothing to be sorry about. I love you." You spoke with a voice barely above a whisper, soft and gentle, a hand threading through his wild curls, soothing him as much as you could in that moment.
The second you finally arrived back to your hotel room, Lando was drained. He wasn't talking, just a few, necessary words here and there. He threw off his clothes onto one of the chairs and dragged himself to the bathroom in just a pair of boxers, shutting the door behind himself a little harder than he intended. He was upset, for sure, but you knew he hated to be alone, even if he tried to act tough. After putting down your bag and taking off your shoes, you grabbed your PJs and followed him into the bathroom.
Bye the time you opened the door, he was already under the shower, lazily washing himself, not really looking at you, he just gave you a quick glace to let you know he was aware of your presence. You stripped off your clothes slowly, letting out a relieved sigh after finally getting rid of the tight fabrics you were wearing all day. When you were finally bare, you stepped to him, leaning against the cool tiles. "Mind if I join?" It was a stupid question, of course he didn't mind, he loved showering with you.
He didn't answer with words, just reached out for you with a hand, which you gladly took and stepped in front of him under the streaming water. You turned your back to him as you let the water cover your body, and he wrapped his arms around you from behind with a tiny groan, his forehead falling against your shoulder. You placed your hands on top of his forearms, squeezing gently as you leaned back against him.
After a long, lazy shower, you both finally emerged from under the water and dried your hair, then put on your sleeping clothes. In the bedroom, the bed was unmade, you left it like that in the morning, so you just climbed straight under the blanket, melting into the warmth and fluff of the covers.
Your bag was still on the bed where you had thrown it, so lay on your side to reach for it, fishing out your phone. When you finally found it, you threw the bag on the floor, deciding that you'll deal with it in the morning. You quickly set an alarm for the morning, then placed your phone on the bedside table.
Before you could properly lie down on your back, Lando was already there behind you, latching himself onto and around you. He settled against your back, his arm holding your waist tightly. He still wasn't talking and it started worrying you, because even though you knew he needed time to process things before being ready to talk about them, it was getting late and you felt like enough time has passed, you wanted him to let it out. He was probably disappointed in himself, his team, everything. But still, the fact that he barely spoke a few words all night was starting to upset you.
Just as you were about to speak up and address the obvious problem, he finally talked. "I'm so tired.." He was mumbling against the skin of your shoulder, his hand splaying across your stomach under the shirt he had nudged a little up. "I know, baby.. you need rest. But don't you want to talk a little about today first?" you asked softly, turning your head back so you were able to look at him. The sight of his exhausted face was both adorable and upsetting at the same time. His eyes were drooping as he tried looking upward to meet your gaze, his lips forming a tiny but unmistakable pout.
As he heard your words, he immediately shook his head and dropped his face back down onto your shoulder, nuzzling himself closer to you, his body pressing firmly against yours. He was simply just craving being close to you, as close as possible. "Not even a little bit? Just tell me how you feel, baby.. what's goin' on in your head, hm?" You tried to convince him to talk, but it was followed by yet another shake of his head.
With a sigh, you turned your head back and rested in on the pillow, realizing that he, in fact, will not say anything tonight. Maybe it was better like that, maybe he just needed a good sleep to feel better, at least that's what you were hoping for.
"I love you so much.." You grabbed his hand and brought it to your lips, leaving a soft kiss on his knuckles, then placed it back on your waist, then just closed your eyes, deciding that sleep would be the best option now. "Love you too.." He whispered as he snuggled yet again closer, trying to settle in a comfortable position.
You thought he would go to sleep, that he would pass out in five minutes and sleep so deeply you'd barely be able to wake him up in the morning, but no. Even after minutes, he was still restless, squirming and moving around all the time. Of course he couldn't sleep, after all, he was upset, he couldn't finish the race and he lost valuable points and he disappointed his fans and his car is a shitbox and-
"Lando?" You called out for him quietly, turning in his embrace, facing him. Your own arm snaked around his back, pulling him close to yourself. "Can't you sleep, baby?" You asked softly, eyes probably sleepy because you were so tired, but much more sorry for him.
"Mmm.. can't.." the sound he let out was more of a whine, a sound so small and vulnerable, it made your chest tighten. He looked so tired, that beautiful smile of his now nowhere to be seen. His lips were curved downward, his whole face just a big exclamation of grumpy and sad.
You leaned in to press a gentle kiss on his lips, then one on his forehead, then yet another one on his lips. You weren't sure about how you should've comforted him. Words didn't help, that's for sure, and it seemed like the kisses didn't either. With a sigh, you scooted a little further from him, which resulted in him reaching for you, "where are you goin'??" He was probably about to whine again and grab you, dragging you back to himself, but you spoke before he could.
"Turn around." You said as you raised a hand, mimicking a circular motion with your pointing finger. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you with a confused expression, but he did as he was told to do so. He quickly turned and rested on his other side, but he looked back at you. "Why?" His question was left hanging for a second while you shifted behind him and got comfortable, sliding an arm under his head while the other one locked around his waist.
"What are you doing?" he let out a small giggle, finally. You were desperate to hear anything positive from him at his point, so this little sound made you smile. "You don't always have to be the one holding me.. you need it too." You spoke softly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder, then you tucked your leg between his ones, pressing yourself as close to him as possible.
He was probably surprised at this position you were currently putting him in, because this is something you've definitely never done. He's the man, he should be the one hugging you like this, no? He's the protector, the provider, the care giver, he shouldn't just let you spoon him from behind just because he was sulking. He was bigger than you, anyways, he thought you were probably uncomfortable, just didn't want to show it.
But.. even as he initially thought of these things, he couldn't deny the fact that it felt amazing. You all over him, the warmth of your body embracing him, your arm so tight around him, your breathing against his neck.. oh, he loved it. Yes, he definitely felt small in a way, because this wasn't something usual, but damn, he started wishing it would be a casual thing, because it made him feel so much better.
Sometimes, he needs to feel protected too, he needs to feel just a little small in your arms so his head could go quiet and he could rest.. His stiffened body finally relaxed. He let out a shaky breath, burying his face in the plush pillow beneath him. "This feels so good.." He mumbled, voice a little muffled but he was honest, he felt so raw, so little as you were holding him like that. He loved to hug you from behind, loved to caress and rub your stomach lazily, but now, as you were doing it to him, you fingers gentle over his skin under his shirt, it was on a whole different level. He suddenly felt like crying. It really came sudden, out of nowhere. Nothing dramatic, just a few hot little tears rolling down on his cheeks, a tiny muffled sob escaping him.
"Shh.. it's okay, love" You kissed the sensitive skin of his neck repeatedly, gentle little pecks meant to sooth him. "Let me hold you baby, nothing's wrong.. you need to sleep, yeah?" You freed your arm from under his head just enough to be able to bring your hand to his hair, fingers stroking through his curls slowly. "I love you so much.. 'n I love this so much.." His voice cracked over the words as he grabbed your hand over his stomach tightly, holding it.
"I love you too, Lando, you know i do. Now, calm down and go to sleep, okay? I'm here and I'll hug you just like this all night. We talk about stuff tomorrow if you want to, yeah?" You pressed yet another kiss on his neck, this time firmer, letting it linger. He nodded, curling himself even more up, letting you drape yourself over him, he simply loved it.
You finally settled behind him, keeping your hands in his hair and on his stomach, but they've stopped moving now, you were about to fall asleep, and he was cornering it too.
Today was surely not a good day to remember if we're talking about racing. But on the other hand, Lando finally experienced how amazing it actually feels like to be the little spoon, and you both were pretty sure that it will be one of the most used sleeping positions you two share.
He was completely in love with being held by you, and you found him impossibly adorable.
content: michael robinavitch x f!reader / complete and utter fluff / first kiss / smushy and gushy / established relationship (or at least interest)
summary: robby gives you his hoodie.
wc: 463
notes: my robby hoodie arrived today and i haven't taken it off since. today was a bad day so i needed so robby fluff after writing him as an absolute fiend. also no proof reading or beta reader, you get what you get.
You sit with Robby on a small bench just outside the hospital, the one tucked beneath the half-bare tree that doesn’t do much to block the wind, leaves turning an Autumn red. His lunch sits forgotten between you both — half a sandwich, his bottle of water, and an apple he probably won’t eat.
The breeze picks up again, cutting through your long sleeve shirt. You knew the winter’s got brutal here but you didn’t expect it to be so cold today.
Without a word, Robby shrugs out of his hoodie. The one he got at the ‘Beers of Burgh’ festival. A faint scent of his cologne and detergent clinging to it. He holds it out to you, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he tries to swing it over your shoulders.
“Here. You’re freezing.”
You hesitate. “What? No, you love this thing.”
He chuckles, shaking his head side to side. “I’m used to it. Plus it’ll look good on you.”
You pull the hood over your head and instantly you’re much warmer. The zip up hoodie is soft, heavy, and it smells like him. The sleeves swallow your hands. You glance up to find him watching you, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly.
“What?” you ask, smiling awkwardly.
“Nothing,” he says, though his eyes tell you everything.
“You just… you look pretty today.”
But yet the silence that follows isn’t awkward. It’s full. Full of so many unsaid things. Slight touches and glances held much too long.
He leans in before you even realize it’s happening, one hand coming to rest on the bench beside you, the other gripping at one of the strings of his hoodie. His lips meet yours… your first kiss. Three dates too many, he wanted things to be slow and you respected that.
It’s over before you can fully register it.
When he pulls back, he’s smiling, eyes warm, a genuine smile.
“Guess I really shouldn’t be doing that on my only lunch break.”
You laugh, cheeks warming red from the moment you both just shared.
“Definitely something for us to talk about later.”
He bumps his shoulders into yours gently before glancing back toward the emergency room’s doors. “I should get back.”
You nod, still smiling like a fool. “Yeah, okay.”
You both stand up from the bench, share a quick hug, like any other lunch break.
He starts to walk off, but turns back after a few steps. “Keep the hoodie,” he says, his smile never fading. “Gives me an excuse to see you later.”
You watch him disappear through the glass doors, tugging the sleeves over your hands as the hoodie swallows you whole. The warmth of him still lingers — on your lips and in the soft fabric wrapped around you.
Thank you so much for taking time to read. Likes and comments are appreciated as always but reblogging is the best way to support my work as well as fellow creators.
Warnings/Contains: Simp Damian, established relationship, kissing, pure romance, fluff, weddings.
WC: 397
Posted On: 9/10/25 also on AO3!
Title Song: Lover's Spit - Broken Social Scene
Author's Note: Bit of a break from Kinktober :3
Divider by @uzmacchiato
Damian was irrevocably in love with his wife.
There she was, sat near him so angelically as she got ready for his brother's wedding.
F/N was draped in a gorgeous dark green dress, matching Damian's tie.
Her makeup amplified her beauty - not like she needed it anyway.
"Ya amar... you are absolutely stunning,"
Damian whispered, rubbing F/N's shoulder gently as she leant down to strap her heels tight.
The woman smiled at Damian's words, standing up straight to meet his eyes, "And you are as equally handsome, my love," F/N replied as she adjusted his tie straight.
Damian could feel his breath hitch as she fixed his suit.
"Oh hush," the man muttered, moving a piece of hair out of F/N's face, "I do not see why we should have to go to my brother's wedding..."
"Dear, he came to our wedding - it's only fair if we go to his."
Damian groaned as he held his wife close to him, "The entire world deserved to see you in that wedding dress."
F/N simply hugged him back, arms wrapped around his waist.
"Let's just not go," Damian mumbled, face buried in her hair, "I want to stay here instead with you - we don't need to be with those creatures."
He kissed into her hair, face buried at he took in the scent of her shampoo.
"Damian... it starts in two hours, we have to leave soon."
Damian sighed in defeat and moved his face away to look down at his wife. "Let me just kiss you for a bit," He whispered as he moved a hand to cup F/N's face.
"Just one kiss."
The man smiled as she responded and leant down slightly to kiss F/N's lips softly, hand still on her face.
Their eyes closed; F/N's hands were still wrapped around his waist while both of Damian's hands were cupping her face now.
He moved away from the kiss a minute later and looked deep into F/N's eyes. "Okay, hayati... I'll bear this wedding - just for you."
"Sounds like a deal to me."
After the ceremony, Damian just knew he had to renew his vows with F/N.
His heart was straining at the thought of kissing her in a church, all dressed in the most expensive wedding dress money could buy.
God, he truly loved his wife.
Just a quick translation guide (I am not Arab, so apologies if it's wrong!):
summary: neteyam knows that with courting you, it means gaining your mother's favor as well.
tags: sfw , fluffy fluff fluff , comfort
a/n: this is based off one of my fav movies, if beale street could talk!
theme: agape
The day I realized Neteyam was in love with me, was strange.
It was the day he gave mama that shell.
It was just late afternoon, the sun bleeding the sky a dark orange and light yellow. Below the ocean water shimmered like stars fell into the water, but refused to die out.
He was at the very entrance of your marui, just handing off a mysterious object that was wrapped in a soft cloth to your mother, who you were standing behind.
He held it out to my mother with both hands, palms up. The gesture of offering something precious without expectation.
My mother, the village's sweetest woman, carefully took it in her hands, undoing the cloth with a certain slowness that maybe if she dragged it out, the moment could be captured in her mind.
I hovered just behind her right shoulder, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from her back, my own heart thudding so loud I was sure the she could hear it.
Neteyam dipped his head in quiet respect, ears tilting slightly forward. Once the package had left his hands, he immediately turned all his attention towards you.
Each corner peeled back like the turning of a sacred page. Maybe she sensed how fragile and enormous it was. Layer by layer fell away until what was revealed was a shell.
Not just any shell. Her favourite shell. A nautilus spiral larger than my fist. Its outer curve a deep, indigo that deepened to midnight at the base and softened to rose at the flared lip.
No blade had marred it. The ocean had sculpted it over centuries, tumbling it in currents until every ridge was silk-smooth, every curve an ode to patience. You bet if you pressed it to your ear, you would hear not just the roar of waves, but the pulse of Eywa herself breathing through the deep.
My mama's breath caught. A tiny, almost inaudible sound. Her thumb traced the spiral once, twice, following its perfect fibonacci turn as though reading a secret message hidden in the ridges. She truly looked at it, flipped back once, twice, you lost count after she kept tracing patterns with her eyes down the captivating spiral.
Neteyam's gaze softened into something so tender it hurt to look at. Golden irises ringed with the faint glow of something you couldn't quite pinpoint yourself.
My fingers flexed at my sides, aching to reach, but I stayed rooted, pinned by the enormity of what he'd just done. This wasn't courtship games anymore.
Not just a silly crush you would tell your friends about. Not some feeling that would go away with time. No. This was declaration. This was family. This was forever woven into a single, perfect shell.
I helped Neteyam climb the back of an ilu for the fifth time he'd been thrown off, in a time that seemed so long ago.
Neteyam loved me too much, and that meant that there had never been any occasion for shame between us.
He remembered every small thing I had ever said in passing. The way I once mentioned that my mother had spent her whole girlhood collecting nautilus shells. I had told him that story ages ago, when we were still just two awkward teenagers trying to figure out how a forest boy could move like water people. I hadn't thought he was listening that closely. But he had been. He always was.
It wasn't just memory. It was proof he'd been collecting pieces of my world long before he ever asked to hold my heart.
My throat tightened until breathing hurt. I wanted to cry, but there was no reason to feel sad. My mother's gaze lifted from the shell to him, then to me.
That's when I really felt it. It was recognition.
And then, without a word, my mother smiled. This was the smile she saved for me when I was very small and had just done something brave, something that made her proud beyond measure.
SUMMARY: inspired by “coffee” by Miguel + in which you wake up in Tyriq’s arms and admire him when you think he’s asleep. 🩷
AUTHOR’S NOTE: at this point, my page has become a Tyriq stan account… 😭😭 idk y’all, i just love me some him! 🥹
you stirred a little as you gained consciousness, your eyes slowly fluttering open and squinting a bit to adjust to your surroundings. the sun was high in the sky and shining as bright as ever as the yellow light shined through your curtains and added a glow to the bedroom, highlighting the little details that made your house a home.
blinking twice, you fully opened your eyes and looked over at your alarm clock on your nightstand, the time ‘9:52 A.M.’ staring back at you in red LED writing. letting out a soft yawn, you went to move but paused when you realized there was some weight around your waist, a small smile creeping onto your face once you peeked under the covers and saw Tyriq’s muscular arms draped across your body and holding you against him.
carefully stirring in his embrace, you shifted around to face him, your eyes locking on his sleeping face while your smile widened a bit at the peaceful sight. his jaw was slack and relaxed from the tensions of the previous day, which thoroughly emphasized the sharpness in his jawline. his eyelashes held a subtle shine from the sun and the glow brought attention to the length of them and how perfectly they framed his eyelids. the sun also accentuated the freckles on his under-eyes, nose, and cheekbones, and they weren’t that visible unless you looked at him up close or under bright lighting.
you’ve always known that Tyriq was a handsome man, but as you admired his facial features while he slept, you realized just how gorgeous he truly was.
as you laid quietly in his arms, your eyes studied him and watched his chest slowly heave up and down as he steadily breathed and slept soundly, oblivious to your lingering gaze. carefully, you lifted your hand and gently rested it against his jaw as you softly stroked his cheek with your thumb, keeping your touch as light as a feather so you didn’t accidentally wake him up.
but little did you know, he wasn’t actually asleep.
“if you keep starin’ at me, i’ma end up with a big ass hole in my face.” Tyriq mumbled, his voice husky from sleep, as his eyes remained closed and a small smile slowly spread across his face, the sound of his voice catching you off guard and making your eyes widen a little.
“how long have you been awake, Ty?” you asked softly, letting out a soft laugh, as your thumb paused against his cheek and his eyes fluttered open, his colored irises peering down at you while he adjusted his arms around your body.
“since i felt you turn around in my arms,” Tyriq chuckled softly as he rested his big hands against your back and tugged you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, “you good, baby?”
“mhm,” you hummed softly, smiling a little, as you snuggled closer to him and rested your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent while your body rested smushed against his, “just like lookin’ at you, that’s all.”
“i can tell,” Tyriq murmured, resting his cheek against your bonnet-covered head, as you softly smacked your lips and Tyriq chuckled softly, a small grin crossing his face while he rubbed your back, “a’ight, c’mon, let’s go back to sleep.”
“Ty, it’s like 10 o’clock now—”
“girl, i don’t care,” Tyriq muttered as he closed his eyes again and let out a soft hum, “you stayin’ right here so we can go back to sleep.”
cracking a smile, you let out a soft laugh and ultimately closed your eyes as you placed an arm around his body and rested your hand against his chest, feeling his steady heartbeat thump underneath your palm while you focused on drifting back to sleep.
“i love you, pretty girl.” Tyriq whispered, breaking the momentary silence in the room, as he gently squeezed your hip and your smile widened, five of your fingers splayed across his back while the other five sat spread out on his chest.
content: sfw + fluff. nonlinear storytelling, memories with your boyfriend, marriage talk. fem reader + no physical descriptions.
Someone from the Cleaners had drafted you as part of the crew years ago... said you could be an asset. What kind of potential they saw, you had no idea. It felt like everybody was a gear keeping the team moving forward, some rigged to be fierce fighters, others trained to support during combat.
You, however, with a worrisome heart and hands unscarred from battle, were told your main purpose was to heal wounds of the body and soul.
Perhaps you would even serve as an upholder of group morale, but it seemed like that position was already held by a certain Giver with tattoos for sleeves.
A man who to this day manages to make your heart rush each time you're with him, even now, bodies intertwined as you both think back to every living moment together.
You still hold on to the faint memory of speaking to Enjin for the first time.
The Cleaners headquarters are known to always be overrun with laughter and conversation that slowly subside when mission after-hours draw near.
That day marked a long time since the building had ever been so quiet.
It was the dead of night. Most people were passed out when you were requested to tend to someone's injuries. It had been a couple of hours since Team Akuta had returned from a mission that apparently went haywire halfway through.
Even before stepping over the room's threshold, you felt it — the hazy smell of cigarette smoke mixed with something distinctly metallic.
You weren't met with Rudo's huge round eyes, or Riyo's crimson hair, or that perpetually tired gaze Zanka always carried around with him.
Instead, you were greeted by a tall figure slumped on the bed, blond hair chaotically tousled on his head and jacket discarded on the floor. His shirt was torn, letting you see the expanse of his chest and the deep cut inches under his collarbone.
"Um... you're Enjin, right?" you chimed softly, trying to check for his level of consciousness.
In reality, you were all too aware of who he was.
He lifted his eyes towards you and inhaled sharply before responding, "Yeah, uh, so much for first impressions." He chuckled dryly, but the slight wince afterwards spoke for itself.
You reached for your kit, hastily searching for supplies while trying your best to seem cool and collected. You were used to feeling anxious when it came to people's well-being, always thinking about what could go wrong. Eishia often had to remind you to wind down when treating patients.
Were you always this... fidgety, though? It felt like your cheeks were lit on fire.
You found the pack of gauze sponges (finally) and nervously held it up, just for it to fall out your grasp seconds later. Your inmediate reaction was to flail your arms around in an embarrassing game of catch with yourself, somehow fumbling every attempt to snatch it back.
Enjin was audibly giggling; you wanted the earth to swallow you whole.
"Guess that makes two of us, huh?" he said, letting out a half-laugh, half-groan. You meekly apologized, trying to hide the blush in your face while retrieving the box from the floor.
"...This is gonna sting a little," you told him, slowly rising to your full height and opening the plastic wrapping, "so bear with me, 'kay?"
You offered him a kind smile but he looked straight at you for what felt like minutes before responding. The room fell silent and his stare was... intense.
Enjin made a name for himself around HQ. You weren't the only one who could tell he was laid-back, reliable, and impossibly charming. It was like he had his own gravitational pull. He wasn't arrogant or vain, but it was glaringly clear he was a natural born leader — a great one at that.
You'd had brief encounters before: milisecond-long glances, a few professional "good mornings" and "good nights", even casual shoulder pats he would give everyone after successful tasks. No real conversation.
Seeing him up close like this, you realized he was also... good-looking. Hell, this man was beautiful.
A wave of relief fell upon you when he actually looked away and nodded. You went to the nearby sink to wash your hands and took out a gauze, hearing sheets rustle as he laid flat on his back.
Enjin looked at you once more, expectantly, as you stood beside him and put pressure on the cut with the cotton cloth. His hand shot up to clutch your forearm, clearly not used to the burn.
"Shit, girl. You're killin' me here", he blurted, clenching his jaw. He let out a soft laugh, taken aback by his own reaction.
God, you could see dimples forming in his cheeks.
"What're ya smiling at?"
"Hm? Oh, sorry," you answered, barely registering his words, "is it a lot?"
Enjin gave you a cheeky grin, amused by your question, and retorted, "Happens when you're too used to comin' back without a scratch."
You both chuckled, but the high of small talk and light-hearted jokes wore down and it dawned in on you that his hand was still wrapped firmly around the entirety of your forearm.
You felt your whole body buzz and goosebumps creep up your skin.
"O-okay. Water... towel," you stammered, quickly forcing your arm out of his grasp before you shut down from overheating.
"Need me to take off my shirt?"
You replied "No!" way too abruptly. "...It's fine really. I just, um, need to put a bit of water on it."
You left the room to pull yourself together and waited a long while to go back.
At the end of the day, tending to people was your role and you couldn't let some crush for a guy prevent you from doing things right. You had to return, patch up the wound and snug it tightly in a bandage like you always did. Sunrise was close and the weight of another sleepless night would start to wear you down soon.
"There. Feel better?" you asked, tiredly, still looking for signs of discomfort after finishing the job.
Enjin stood up, beaming at you. "Best care I've ever gotten, doc."
He gently caressed your shoulder and you managed to cast him a small smile, but the world seemed dizzying and even small words like thank you felt heavy to say. All you wanted to do was rest after countless hours of work.
The last thing you recall from that day was being lifted off the ground and carried to your room.
Now you lay over that same man, chest against his bare back while you trace the ink on his skin with your fingers, letting hours go by as you talk about nothing and everything.
"You remember that, Jin?"
"Doesn't ring a bell baby." Enjin turns his head to look back at you, smirking, fake forgetfulness written all over his stupidly smug face.
"Really? I wonder who tucked me in then," you quip, waiting for whatever witty remark he had in mind this time.
"Don't know. Must've been a real handsome guy, though."
Well, he wasn't wrong. You still can't help but playfully roll your eyes at your boyfriend's antics. Chats in bed with him were always like this — silly banter and reminiscing about each milestone in your relationship.
You keep drawing soft shapes around his tattoos, but he's begging to ask something in return.
"You remember our first kiss was in that same room?"
You pause for a second and rest your cheek against him, still feeling butterflies in your belly just thinking about it. "Mhm... it was like two months after that."
Enjin teasingly scoffs. "Yeah, right. More like two weeks. You couldn't keep your dirty hands off me," he counters and you lightly swat at his head.
"Liar. Bet you were gonna cry if I didn't kiss you back."
You two keep going back and forth on this topic everytime it comes up. It seems to be the one thing you can't agree on. Minutes pass and you've already ventured into all sorts of arbitrary discourse.
But once you settle down and the conversation fizzles out, the air in the room grows eerily stagnant and you can't help but mention what's been eating away at you for days now.
"Hey, En," you murmur, voice shaky, nuzzling into his hair and wrapping your arms around his neck from behind.
He knows that wavering, muffled tone. You only use it when you've been worrying too much and overthinking each possible outcome.
A lot of people thought you had foresight, but Enjin knew you were just naturally weary and liked to plan three steps ahead. You made extra portions of food for everyone at base and had a spare for each key you owned.
He'd always admired how capable you were, how you look out for others and for him, how you never leave anyone behind.
But sometimes he thinks you're too scared of what tomorrow could bring you.
"What's up, angelface?" Enjin says, holding one of your arms and softly brushing his thumb over your skin, trying to soothe you.
He can sense the feelings starting to well up.
You retract an arm from under his neck and start idly tracing his tattoos again, cheek pressing into his back one more time.
"You aren't gonna die on me, are you?"
A beat passes, and he laughs under his breath.
Then he audibly cackles like you'd told your boyfriend his favorite punchline. To him, it was comical to even think about, but he could already feel you frowning.
Once the rumble of his chest ceased, he gripped you tighter and tried calming that beautiful mind of yours in the best way he could: keeping you close, and coming up with terrible one-liners.
"Nah, gotta get married to my girl first".
...Oh.
He did not mean to say that. It's a good thing he didn't blurt it out in front of his team because they would not let him live that down.
Your initial train of thought is completely gone.
You can't lie to yourself — the idea of marriage has crossed your mind countless times, you just didn't expect him to be the one to say something first. Part of you was falling in love all over again, the other kept making a mental list of all the ways you could relentlessly tease him.
Making Enjin feel flustered was painfully difficult to do, but on the rare ocassions he got all shy and red in the cheeks, you always broke into a fit of laughter.
"You're such a softie. You know that?"
He tried hiding his face in the mattress, blushing and self-aware, muttering out a quick "Fuck off", but you could feel him laughing too.
He tossed you off his back and placed you facing upwards on the bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and bringing you to rest your head against his chest.
You looked at him and still saw a rosy tint creeping up his cheeks.
The bickering and humor from earlier were long forgotten, as were your worries for the unknown future. All that was left was you breathing softly over his heartbeat, easing each other into deep rest.
He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead before saying anything else.
. Word Count — 4.1k
. Warnings — None!
. Contents — Late nights, annoying 5012, hints of insomnia, mutual bullying, LOTS OF EYE CONTACT, Caspy Waspy is mentioned, 5012 being the workaholic he is, annoying 5012, existential questions and possible dread, lost memories, amnesia, fluff, comedy, soft angst, chickens, Reader is 0213 and gender neutral, did I say annoying 5012?
Prologue — Bothering 5012 is always fun. Bothering him about being a shut in that always stays in his office? Even funnier. Except that it quickly takes a deeper turn... and you decide to visit him every night
5012’s office door greeted you quietly.
Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork and paperwork again.
At this point when you thought about 5012, senior Grim Reaper and your trainer, you could only picture his face covered by stacks of paper.
Was that normal?
Why would a place full of dead people need so many files?
Souls probably, classified information, those terminated reapers in need of rescue and yada yada yada.
You fumbled with the edge of your shirt, stalling.
0204, Atlas, was nowhere to be found, probably off to sleep or… honestly you didn’t know. Did you even want to know?
Your section of HQ was quiet. Time was frozen in the Underworld, but it was supposed to be past midnight in the human world, and Reapers either set out for missions or rested around that time, for convenience.
In all that stillness, and boredom, you thought that it would be a good idea to greet your oh so dear trainer.
Taking for granted his probable irritation… ahem.
How should you even approach him? It was never easy, but not difficult either.
You kind of rehearsed your greeting while climbing the stairs to his office: barging into the room rather loudly and risk getting punched in the face.
No, you thought, you would revisit the idea for another day.
And there you were, listening to the led lights buzzing above you. In silence.
Waiting, anticipating.
“Are you going to come in or not?” His voice, muffled by the door.
It didn’t even scare you, it just surprised you a tiny bit.
“Just so you know, you probably look stupid standing idle like that, especially out of my office,” he continued.
Rude.
“First of all,” you slowly pushed the door open, “rude.”
Your face peered from the crack.
“Second of all,” you slid in the room, closing the door behind you, “you’re ugly.”
A smile adorned your lips, yet the man on the other side of the office, sitting behind his desk, didn’t even raise his eyes, “you’ll find out that I do not care about your opinion of me 0213.”
He flipped a file over, unbothered. "Especially when it’s uncalled for.”
What a grump.
In the new found silence you took in his office again. It was the same as always, but every time something appeared and disappeared.
A stack of files, an unfinished cup of coffee, 5012’s coat on the chair, books opened on random pages and so on.
It was like an ecosystem, a very sad one of course. Changing and working in its own way.
“Why are you here, 0213? You’re awfully quiet,” the grumpy, ugly, boring, absolutely lame man spoke again.
“Ah, uhm, I was distracted sorry,” you walked further into the room.
“Distracted by?” He barely raised his eyebrows, “why you of course,” you teased, smiling.
5012 refused to look at you, and to entertain you.
“Do you need help big boss?” You peered over the stack of papers. “Hardly, you’d only make things… harder."
“Tell me about it,” a stupid grin formed on you face, eyes wandering around before setting on the guy in front of you, who was already looking at you, sternly.
“Okay, okay, I’ll stop,” you raised your hands defensively, only relaxing after his glare left you.
“Can I at least stay here?” You probably would’ve stayed anyway.
“Why?”
“There’s no one around and nothing to do.”
“Go rest.”
“I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“How would I know? I still don’t understand this Grim Reaper body,” you huffed, he sighed.
“Just be quiet.” He rubbed his temples, sliding his fingers down his face in resignation.
A few minutes went by, you could only hear your breathing and the occasional pen scratching the paper's surface.
5012’s office was very dark, and very purple… dark purple.
You slowly made you way around it, taking in the subtle details, the titles of the books, the pattern of their covers, the arrangement of the tiles on the floor. Some were uneven.
Your curiosity took you to the big window. Looking down you saw a street, in front of you endless “sky scrapers”.
You knew the word, but never actually stopped to think about it, how could a building scratch the sky if there was no sky?
“How high up are we?” You leaned against the glass.
“If you’re planning to jump down I’d advise against it,” he tapped his pen on the desk.
“Wh— Why would I do that?! I already died once,” you twisted your neck to look at him weird.
“0204 once said that he wanted to test his fall damage, maybe he shared that stupid idea with you,” you alerted the distinct tone of annoyance in 5012’s voice.
“Well, even if he did… I’m not him, and it’s not like I go along everything he does—“
“…?”
“Mostly.” You coughed.
And then silence again.
You finished scrutinizing his room and returned in front of 5012, sitting on one of the chairs.
“Your office is cozy. I get why you’re always here,” your arms flopped on the table, next to some signed files.
“I’m glad it’s to you liking but I’m not always here, 0213.”
“Every time I come knocking you’re here.”
“Pure coincidence.”
“When do you go out?”
“Occasionally.”
Silence.
“Are you sure you can’t lie?” You raised one eyebrow.
“I can lie, but chose not to,” he huffed.
“So you’re not lying now.”
“No, 0213, I am not.”
“But you’re avoiding the truth. Because it’s a fact that you’re shut in here most of the time,” you’ve been staring at the man for a while now, and just then he returned your gaze.
Not matching your energy at all… but at least he was looking at you.
He cleared his throat.
“Should’t you be resting? We have stuff to do in some hours,” you looked at the clock.
“I already told you, I can’t fall asleep. Check your hearing grandpa.”
You smiled, he did not.
In all honesty, if 5012 could, he’d be smashing his head on the table with much pleasure… and until the surface molded into the shape of his face
“Why did you come here?” He interlaced his hands together, resting his chin against them. Purple irises dug deep into you, were 5012’s eyes always so sharp?
“I wanted to keep you company,” your voice quivered with embarrassment. You wondered, on a scale from 1 to 10, how much you looked stupid while saying that.
“I do not need your company, 0213.” He repeated the word with a strange tone, almost as if he was pronouncing it for the first time.
“Wow you’re so emo.” You dead panned.
“Here I was trying to be kind,” you continued, folding your arms.
“I don’t need your kindness either, you’ll see that’s something the Underworld is lacking.” The senior Grim Reaper grimaced.
“I guess I’ll be the first kind Grim Reaper,” you whispered to yourself, fidgeting with your sleeves.
5012’s eyes snapped to your face, scanning you and maybe your very soul, in a pensive silence.
Silly him probably forgot to look away because you caught him right in the act when you focused on him once again.
“Do I have something on my face?” You joked, ignoring the weight of his attention.
“No you do not,” he began. “It just surprised me, what you said.” He blinked, dragging his eyes to the window and… staring, glaring, admiring it.
You expected him to elaborate further, but he didn’t, and you both sat in silence once again.
It was comfortable, for you of course. For that emo guy over there, probably not.
You could only hear outside world, 5012’s office acted as a bubble, quiet, floating over the everything.
“Why?” You heard him ask.
To who? You weren’t sure. He wasn’t looking at you.
“What?” You asked, caught off guard.
You swore you saw his body shake and stiffen, barely, but you knew it did. His eyes were on yours again, for one second he looked startled and the next it was gone.
“I,” his mouth hung agape in thought.
“I think you should go 0213,” his voice gradually got colder, back to his usual tone huh.
“Why?” You asked, confused.
Why.
“I need to continue with my work, alone. You are distracting in the worst ways,” he fixed his necklace and jacket, nervously.
“Did I do something?”
“Just go, I’ll see you later for training,” he refused to look at you.
You could only imagine the consequences of pushing him too far, so you let it go.
“Okay,” you got up, the leather of the chair creaking under your weight.
“Goodnight then, or good day,” you put on a light hearted tone while walking backwards towards the door, 5012 never looked at you.
Your smile faltered. Finding the handle you disappeared once again, in the cold and silent halls of the building.
Why?
If eyes could burn, 5012’s office door would’ve been reduced to ashes.
Brows furrowed, eyes squinted, various lines caused by tension decorated the man’s face.
His body was still stiff, until he deflated all at once, fingers creeping up to rub his eyes in frustration? Anger? Tiredness? Fuck him if he knew.
Staring at the spot you left empty, 5012’s night went on.
A sound from your computer caught your attention, you rolled on your bed, one of the plushies from the infamous claw machine in your arms.
Another sound, and another.
“Hmpf,” you wobbled towards your desk.
Atlas: “Earth, or idk, to oh two one three”
Atlas: “I was thinking, why not go try to make a mysterious food from we find in the kitchen? Who knows how the Underworld stuff reacts to each other…”
Atlas: “Helloooooo???”
You stared at the text, grinning.
0213: “Hi chicken”
Atlas: “I’m not.”
0213: “Honk honk”
Atlas: “That’s not how chickens sing”
0213: “How do you know?”
Atlas: “I saw a video duh”
0213: “Did you now…”
Atlas: “Here look”
Atlas: *1 attachment
…
0213: “woW”
Atlas: “Aaaaaaanyways,,, how are you? Wanna hit the kitchen?”
0213: “Not today sorry, I have a lot on my mind.”
Atlas: “I want to have your lot on my mind swell ;)”
0213: “5012 was mean to me”
0213: “:(((((((“
Atlas: “hOw Dare he, cold hearted king!”
Atlas: “He’s such a doofus.”
You would’ve searched the meaning of that word later.
0213: “Has he been weird with you too or…?”
Atlas: “He’s always weird with me, I mean in the mean way.”
You asked a stupid question. Or just to the wrong person.
Atlas: “Maybe he’s in THAT time of the month.”
0213: “Huh”
Atlas: “Idk dude, he probably hadn't had his coffee when you talked to him.”
0213: “We’ll wait and see, now go be useful to the world.”
Atlas: “You mean being absolutely useful to society and sending the claw machine in bankruptcy?”
0213: “Honestly I don’t even remember what that word meant but sure, pop off diva!”
You logged out of your iReaper, pondering on what to do in this soon to be boring day.
5012 hadn’t called any meeting nor training yet, which was weird, but until further notice you were free. As much as you were.
It wasn’t like your newborn soul was chained with this association of Grim Reapers that totally killed people, without a way out.
Heh. Free time!
Although, it confused you. 5012, senior Grim Reaper, role model, dutiful worker deathly dedicated to his job, didn’t alert you about working.
Nor training, not even complaining about some crazy shit 0204 pulled.
Checking up on him wouldn’t have been a bad idea, not a good one either.
Your feet went on autopilot and when you snapped out of your thoughts, you were back in front of that office.
Determine as you were nothing could’ve stopped you!
“Oh 5012!” Hand on the door handle you were ready to burst in until… the door didn’t budge.
“Huh,” you rattled it, lightly at first, then harder, gripping it with your whole strength, making the whole door shake.
He either closed you out or wasn’t in the room at all.
You could’ve knocked this thing down. No, too extreme.
Resting your hands on your hips you huffed.
“I guess I’ll come back later. With a chainsaw. This isn’t over, fuckass door.”
You glared daggers at the piece of building as you walked away.
Your steps faded out and silence settled back in, the two men in the room relaxed.
“Didn’t know your trainee was so, direct,” the white haired guy spoke first.
“What was direct in what they did?” 5012 asked, annoyed.
“Almost taking the door out of its hinges.”
“They’d know better.”
“Are they always like that?”
“Abrupt?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ve got two of them, actually three with you.”
“Hey, rude.”
“Casper, you should go, wouldn’t want to be eavesdropped on a second time.”
1 am. You were back. Along with your… will? You couldn’t find a chainsaw.
Skipping the knocking you directly went to the offensive, trying to open the door, which again, didn’t budge.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you cursed under your breath, pushing and pulling it angrily.
Suddenly you heard a clicking sound, and got dragged along the door as it opened. Revealing a very, very, annoyed 5012.
Your hands were glued to the handle, sweaty.
“Oops, hi boss,” you did everything you could to avoid his gaze.
“Sometimes I wonder why they made you a Reaper 0213,” he sighed.
“I guess I’m that good,” a stupid grin was plastered on your face, letting go of the door.
“I half thought you wouldn’t be here, and actually asleep,” you continued.
“So you DO spend all your time in here,” you pointed an accusing finger to the tall man.
“Is that why you’re here?”
“Yes and also, uhm, to ask why there wasn’t training today.”
“Paperwork kept me busy,” his voice was lower than usual, taking a good look at him, you noticed that he looked more tired. And that was surprising considering he looked tired all the time.
“Can I help?” You smiled, encouraging the man to say yes.
“No,” he replied quickly, “but, I appreciate the offer.”
Your stomach flipped upon hearing 5012’s tone soften. Damn.
“Of course,” you looked down at the floor.
“Can I at least stay here? I’ll be good!”
“I have a feeling that you will stay regardless of what I may say,” the Grim Reaper sulked away, defeated, and headed back to his desk.
“You know me so well!” You followed him with a skip in your step.
The night passed in the quiet of 5012’s office. Having small talks every now and then, insulting each other.
The thought of your trainer never resting lingered.
Persistently.
You weren’t REALLY worried though.
...
Ok, you were. A tiny bit.
So you kept “visiting”, sacrificing your nights to stay with him and the days to hang out with 0204. After a while you also resumed training.
5012 never questioned the real reason behind your nightly appearances, and if he was bothered by it, he didn’t show it through and through.
It became a habit, going to the “purple room”.
Every night he was in his spot, refusing to rest.
Because his job was his life, and he wanted to feel alive, to have a purpose.
A week passed of you and him spending your nights together, obviously 5012 couldn’t have a say in this.
Tonight was no different. You were lounging under the big window, asking stupid questions to the other man, for the sake of wasting his time.
“Why can’t chickens fly?” You quizzed.
“How did you learn about chickens?”
“Atlas told me about them, they’re cute,” you smiled, focusing on the faraway buildings. Imagining a chicken flying from one to the other.
“I don’t know why I’m answering you, but no. From what I know and saw, chickens can’t fly,” 5012 facepalmed, you giggled.
The night went on like that, you asking his favorite candy, him admitting that he never had one, you being shocked before moving on to another question.
Before the both of you realized it, you fell into a habit of being there for each other. Well, sort of.
You fell into the habit of being there and 5012 into the one of, waiting. Waiting for you.
He slowly noticed how he’d think about you in the evening, whether you’d show up or how’d you show up.
A week in, tonight, before you made your appearance he made sure to tide up any misplaced objects and hide the fragile ones just because he saw you almost trip on yourself during training, and decided that he wanted nothing to do with broken objects.
“I heard that Reapers can fly,” you spoke suddenly, he nodded.
“Is there a secret or…?” You tilted your head.
“No, it’ll come to you eventually.”
The man looked at the window, you followed his line of sight.
There was nothing outside.
A dark, empty sky and tall, cold buildings.
You whispered something about reaching the moon, or the sun.
5012 did’t immediately ask you why.
He pondered, and wondered how you could remember what those two things were.
In the end he did ask, carefully.
When did he start being cautious around you?
“Oh I,” you paused, staring at him.
“I don’t. I don’t remember. I just feel that I want to see them.”
You smile, a bit confused yourself.
“You could always describe them to me,” you fidgeted with your clothes. "So at least I’d know what I want to reach,” you joked.
The senior Reaper stared back at you. Searching, questioning.
He surprised you when he complied, beginning with the Sun.
Pure light, he said, warmth, the opposite of whatever you had seen in the Underworld.
Then the Moon.
Something you figured he preferred by how he talked about it.
“The Moon has been my only companion, since the beginning of this long job. The only real witness of all the souls I’ve taken,” his eyes slowly set on his desk, his hands intertwined.
“Many mortals spoke to the Moon before their end, they asked for mercy, kindness. Sometimes for a reason.”
He paused, thinking, calculating, recalling.
And as quickly as he started, he stopped, abruptly.
“Yeah that’s all.”
5012 cleared his throat, collecting pieces of his cold attitude, building his wall once again.
You had perked up during his explanation, his delicate tone caught you off guard. So reverent, smooth, chilling.
You decided against teasing him about it. He felt like a wild animal when he was near you. Inching closer, painfully slow and running so far away if noticed.
You kept your tongue in your mouth.
“Just a big ball of light in the sky,” he spoke, rushing his words.
“And the other is a smaller ball, white.”
You nodded.
“I’d like to see them one day, maybe even touch them,” you blinked, eyes meeting the vast black sky.
5012 thought about saying something about it being impossible AND dangerous. He did not. He let you dream.
But why did you want to reach the sun, the moon?
Why did you want to be kind?
Why?
Your conversations swayed between unbelievably stupid topics to extremely deep ones in matter of minutes.
First you were asking about the moon, then how many plastic balls would be needed to fill the Reaper’s office.
Then about your lost life, and later about fishes.
One day you asked about the stars. You had heard other Reapers talk about them and you, obviously, got curious, and decided to rely on 5012cyclopedia.
“It’s been a while since you asked me about space,” the man noted.
It had been a little more than 2 weeks since you started nagging your trainer.
“They’re small white dots in the sky,” the corners of his mouth curled slightly.
“They’re little moons!” You smiled.
“Not quite but to the human eye, I suppose.”
“Can you reach them?”
“0213 we can’t even reach the moon, which is pretty close.”
No response.
Another day you met him at the coffee machine. The first thing you noticed were his prominent eye bags.
Not that he never had them, but they were particularly dark tonight.
5012’s eyes quickly found you. Zeroing on you from the side.
“Rough night?” You asked.
“Rough everything. 0204 covered my office in confetti.”
He looked —more like glared— down at his coffee mug.
A few seconds of silence passed, 5012 suddenly felt his blood pressure rise. “Please don’t ask me anyth—“
“What’s your favorite blend of coffee?”
Ugh.
And it went on. And on, and on, and on.
Night after night.
He thought of you as a nuisance at first, but gradually reconsidered your presence as an ALMOST entertaining one.
He wondered if you sacrificed your sleep for him.
The idea made him smile. Wait, no, huh?
Maybe you didn’t sleep at all. Or you did, just not at night.
Until finally, after a month of you stating that 5012 was a recluse who only stayed in his office, his pride took over, deciding to prove you wrong.
How?
One evening he quickly messaged you that he wouldn’t have been in his office that night and to not search him. No further explanation and no clues.
Turns out he decided to hang out on the building rooftop, not expecting you to show up.
Firstly because he didn’t tell you where he was, and secondly because you didn’t know how to reach that place.
That is until you, somehow, barged through the stairs’ door.
“How did you—“
“I started asking about you and searching for a way up here as soon as you texted me. It’s that simple.”
No it’s not, it wasn’t, it shouldn’t have been.
You’re dumb, stupid.
He didn’t say anything.
“Why the change of location?” You walked up to him, looking at the scenery.
“Birdwatching.”
You stopped next to him.
“There are birds in the Underworld?”
“I’m messing with you 0213.”
You snapped your head towards 5012, he was looking at the other buildings ahead.
“Since when do you lie?”
“It wasn’t a lie, it was a joke.”
“Even worse. Since when can you joke?”
“You and 0204 are a bad influence.”
“Rude.”
You swore you saw a smirk grace 5012’s face.
Your voice and Casper’s mixed in his mind, reminiscing when the other “Reaper” told him the same thing.
“Anyways,” you chirped, “you finally left your office!”
He huffed, annoyed.
Was it worth entertaining you? He didn’t answer.
In the quiet of the night you thought that... this was nice, chatting with 5012. Then you noticed that you were smiling to yourself.
Ah…
You shielded you face from him, suddenly embarrassed.
If he saw you like that he probably would’ve called you an idiot.
Luckily the man was distracted by the dark sky above.
“Say 0213,” he whispered.
Why.
“Why do you want to reach the moon and the sun?”
Your eyes widened, surprised.
He remembered that?
“Uhm,” you paused, not exactly knowing why.
The reason was buried in your lost memories.
But it felt right —like your name— to grasp at anything and everything connecting you to the human world. To the lost you.
Purple eyes pierced you. Waiting.
“I saw a few pictures of them and I…” the words died in your throat.
Your brain was digging, clawing at something that was no longer there.
“It just felt… I felt, grief.”
Grief.
5012’s eyes softened.
He hummed, acknowledging your answer, eyes meeting the sky once more. Oh, how eyes could tell everything.
During the shared nights the man had unconsciously learned to read you better. He never wanted to, but still, it happened.
His tongue trembled in his mouth.
It downed on him the reality of the situation. Two mortals now dead and reborn anew. Two beings that had to learn how to “live” again, on the rooftop of a random building, in a cold city. Alone.
He thought he got used to it. But you… you were new to this.
You truly were alone in that world.
It was a rare occurrence, seeing 5012 have mercy, be kind.
But that night, engulfed in death with you, he gave you solace.
“0213,” his tone was painfully delicate.
Only then you noticed the proximity.
It was both suffocating and comforting at the same time.
You hummed low, curious.
Some time ago, you'd never thought you'd find yourself having serious talks with 5012.
You only ever wanted to poke him. Annoy him.
But you longed for more. You yearned.
In him you could start seeing a person. Someone worth discovering.
Someone that made your heart squeeze and your stomach twist.
Because he knew what having it hard felt like.
Only God knew how your lived your human life.
Yet your body remembered.
In him you saw someone who could understand, even if he refused to.
And then, only then, the man showed a piece of his heart. To you.
“I will show you the moon.”
Thank you for reading this short oneshot! Hope you enjoyed!
English is not my first language, sorry for little errors!
