❀

He knew it was pointless to waste time in indulging such things as pointless as love, all good things had to come to an end, spending his time working and focusing on money rather than pursuing relationships.

He had first seen you when visiting a bakery and couldn’t help to double take in the image of you enjoying the baked goods the place had to offer, he kept that image with him on the way to work wanting to know more of the person he had just seen, it was unusual and he was a reasonably rational man who never partook in fantasizing about a life outside of work, he thought it rather foolish prioritizing work ethic and balance yet he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something beyond the concept of working tirelessly for a living.

Time and time again he kept seeing you when visiting the bakery, taking note of your fashion, behavior and personal taste, but he only ever admired from afar yearning for a life outside of conformity and maybe even a little bit of love.

All things proved to be true when he was whisked back into the sorcerer life, a life of conveniences and comfort would have been better than his fate, and maybe if he had stayed he would’ve eventually found the courage to say hi, but now there was nothing but regret as he’d met his inevitable demise.

_______________________________________________

Having a crush in your line of profession is tough, although there are some people who make it work, it gets hard trying to balance everything.

He had caught your eye the second you saw him, he stood tall proud, not in a confident way but in an endearing ‘wanting to impress’ way, it was cute, how he carries himself you mean, not that he wasn’t attractive, you could look past the eyebrows, the faces he makes at times, the lack of confidence, maybe it’s what makes him attractive to you, maybe not the eyebrows, or maybe the eyebrows, who cares, love makes you blind

All was well, sitting on the other side of the room and just staring fantasizing about what it’d be like to talk to him was your way of flirting, he had never looked back, spared you a glance, not that he though you unimportant, he just never knew you were there, staring, waiting for and opportunity to land in your hands.

should i write more on this, i like the idea of both sides wanting each other bad but only when the other isn’t looking, slow burn type style.

Follo

when you two lay together in the dark still room, small breaths the loudest thing in the room, he tends to look at you ever so tenderly as he holds you gently in his arms as if you could break with even the slightest touch.

He knows you can hold your own, it’s why you’re here with him, it’s why you met him in the first place, but he can’t help but to want you near him to serve as your protector, to feel worthy of your love, a way to prove himself.

And even if you two can’t be together 24/7, he knows he can trust you, but why worry about being away from you when he has you in his clutch, and you have him shackled in place right beside you.

Zanka

Zanka, such a simple man, so easily pleased in your endless praise and coddle.

You just can’t help it, the smile on his face every time you compliment him, how he throws himself at you every time he does something good awaiting for your praise or approval, and when you hold him in your arms like that, hands in his hair whispers endless sweet nothings into his ears, he could die the happiest man in the universe

dim light of the lap right beside you on the worn out nightstand not enough to keep him awake as he sinks into a deep slumber, sweet dreams.

August

The rare sleeper, you can’t help to wonder how he had so much energy.

Most of the time you rarely stay the night, after working long hard hours, you need a nice nap to get you re charged and ready for battle the next morning, but you decided to elongate your visit.

He seemed calm, not calm calm, but august calm, no real screaming or bouncing around, just a projected voice and quick pacing around the room,

those few times when you do stay over and you aren’t to tired you two sit around like little kids in a sleepover, sharing snack and ideas, giggling like little teenage girls about gossip and what not until all the sugar keeping you two running gives out and you’re passed out on a candy overdose, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, or maybe with less candy so you won’t throw up in the morning.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Short and sweet, augusts low-key came out a little longer, i swear i don’t have favorites *gulp*

Being a cleaner is no easy task, which leads to lack of private time, no relationships or romance, but the one quick thing that never fails is a one night stand. No commitment no problems, a quick way to let loose without having to start anything.

It’s one of those nights where you’re a little to pent up from all the stress that comes with your duties, laying in bed as the soft rays of moonlight cascade upon your every feature creating shadows along the lines of what remains to be unseen.

But it isn’t just you who feels this way.

A gentle knock hits your door, careful to wake anyone up. You can hear someone clear their throat from the other side and a slight stomping almost as if they’re contemplating if they should knock again or just give up and leave.

You pick yourself up and head to the door to figure out who was waiting at your door, and there he stood, the dark haired man string at you with wide eyes, Follo, you had seen him around and even talked to him every once in a while, it’s not safe to say you were friends but definitely friendly.

He looked down almost embarrassed as he didn’t know how to begin his sentence.

“uh, you’re awake.”

“…that I am? What’s up, somethin’ happen?” you say curious to the boys worry gaze,

“You look good?”

silence engulfed the room as you analyzed what he could possibly mean by that after ‘waking’ you up at midnight, a though crossed your head but it was too soon to make a move.

“Thanks.”

there’s a pause before you speak up again.

“Is that it?”

“Um no, I, I was curious if you wanted to uh, talk.”

“talk?”

“yes” he nods somewhat eagerly waiting for you to let him in

As he enter the room you shut the door behind him with a small creak, He sits on your bed and fidgets with his hands almost waiting for you to make the first move.

“so…”

an awkward tension fills the room, you don’t know if its uncomfortable or arousing.

“you wanna uh” he looks up at you before nudging his head to your bed waiting for you to sit with him or on him either way works.

“Yes dude.” without a second thought he basically lunges at you with an insatiable need, his hands roam your entire body pushing anything that’s keeping him away from your skin.

You try to reciprocate but at the rate he’s going you have a better chance at winning the lottery, his level of need unmatched.

As you both lay bare on the sheets he trails soft kissed from your forehead to your stomach causing butterflies to build up in you stomach and pool of heat between you thighs, his tongue laps at the plush skin he yearns for bringing up his hands, shaky as they are.

he circles at you slipping in and out attentively learning what your body reacts to positively and negatively, looking down at him he tilts his head down shyly as his hand begins to to shake again unsure of what he’s doing

“sorry, i just don’t really know what to do”

you smile a little before speaking up

“you’re doing good.”

Edogawa Ranpo was not subtle. At all.

He waltzed into the office with a smug grin, a lollipop sticking out of his mouth, and the confident air of a man who already knew what you had for breakfast, what socks you were wearing, and what you were about to say next.

“(Y/N),” he sang, plopping dramatically into the chair across from you. “I’ve deduced that you’re madly in love with me.”

You blinked, pen hovering over your paperwork. “…Excuse me?”

Ranpo leaned forward, eyes sparkling with that playful arrogance that made you want to both laugh and roll your eyes. “It’s obvious. You smile a little differently when I’m around. Your pulse speeds up when I lean close” he did exactly that, his face mere inches from yours, “and you bring me sweets even though Kunikida specifically said not to spoil me.”

“That doesn’t prove anything,” you muttered, shoving at his forehead to make him sit back.

Ranpo only grinned wider, clasping his hands dramatically over his chest. “Ah, denial! Classic reaction of someone too shy to confess. Don’t worry, I’ll love you even if you keep pretending.”

Your cheeks burned. “You’re insufferable.”

“And adorable,” he added smoothly, stealing one of your pens and twirling it between his fingers as if he owned it. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything. You just focus on falling even more in love with me.”

You sighed, but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible.”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆟

Mornings with Enjin were always loud in some way, even if he was still half-asleep. He’d stumble into the room with his hair sticking up everywhere, rubbing his eyes and yawning like he hadn’t slept at all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he grumbled when he caught you smiling. Then, with a crooked grin: “What? You fallin’ in love all over again ‘cause I look this good first thing in the morning?”

Breakfast wasn’t much better. He’d shove something random onto your plate with a straight face, like it was a grand gesture. “Eat it. It’s gourmet, trust me.” If you raised a brow at the mess of food, he’d laugh and steal a bite of yours instead. “See? Mine’s better anyway.”

He liked to tease, constantly. If you tripped, he was the first to laugh. “Careful, gonna have to start holdin’ your hand everywhere.” If you zoned out, he’d lean close, snap his fingers in front of your face and smirk. “Earth to you—don’t tell me I’m that boring.”

But he wasn’t mean about it. He always waited for your comeback, thrived on the way you pushed back. And when you did, when you caught him off guard with a sharp remark of your own, he’d tilt his head and grin like you’d just made his whole day.

Afternoons were full of little moments. Sometimes he’d walk with you, hands tucked behind his head, telling dumb stories that might’ve been true or might’ve been completely made up. Other times, he’d find excuses to lean against you, an arm slung over your shoulder, a bump of his hip into yours, its always casual, always brushed off with a smirk.

“You’re too easy to mess with,” he said once, after sneaking up behind you and making you jump. He was still laughing when you smacked his arm. “Relax, I’m just keepin’ you on your toes.”

Evenings, though, that’s when he got softer. He’d stretch out beside you, staring up at the sky, quiet for once. Then, just when you thought he’d fallen asleep, he’d mutter something out of nowhere.

“You ever think about how weird it is? Us. Here.” He glanced at you, lips twitching into a crooked smile. “Don’t answer that. I’ll just assume you think it’s fate or somethin’.”

When the night got colder, he’d tug his jacket off and toss it into your lap without looking. “Don’t argue. Just take it. You’ll thank me when you’re not shivering.” And when you thanked him anyway, he’d snort. “Don’t get sappy on me now.”

But you saw it, the way his gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary, the way his teasing always softened around the edges when it was just you.

And when you laughed, he’d laugh too, shaking his head like you were ridiculous. “You’re trouble, y’know that? The good kind.”

That was Enjin with you; cocky, silly, full of teasing remarks. But under all of it, softer than he’d ever admit.

Follo

The evening had settled into a quiet atmosphere where streaks of gold decorated the horizon and darkness tickled over the sun. Follo walked beside you, his hands shoved into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched like hewas trying to make himself smaller than he was. He had an air about him, it's quiet, thoughtful, like someonewho noticedevery detail but never demanded attention.

His steps were unhurried, yet there was a certain deliberation to the way he matched your pace, as though keeping rhythm with you mattered more than where the two of you were going. He didn't speak much at first; Follo never did. But the silence between you wasn't awkward. It was a steady hum, filled with the comfort of someone who didn't need words to prove they were there.

When your hand brushed against his, Follo stiffened. His gaze flicked down, then back up, sharp but uncertain, like he'd been caught in a thought he wasn't ready to admit. Still, instead of retreating, he let his fingers shift, curl, and finally lace through yours. His hand was warm, steady, but his thumb twitched slightly against your skin, betraying the nervous energy beneath his calm exterior.

"You know," Follo murmured, his voice quiet but clear, the kind of voice that carried conviction even when it wavered, "I've wanted this for a while." His eyes softened when he said it, the guarded calm he wore like armor slipping just enough to reveal hope beneath.

Your lips curved into a smile, a small, fragile, honest smile. "So have I."

relief swept across his face in an unguarded way you'd never seen before. Follo let out a laugh, low and breathless, before stopping in his tracks. He tugged you gently to face him, the corners of his mouth twitching into something like a grin he couldn't quite suppress. When he leaned in, he didn't rush it. First, his forehead rested against yours, grounding you both in the stillness of the moment. And then, when he finally kissed you, it was deliberate, steady. The kind of kiss that felt like a promise kept

Enjin

The night air was chilly, but Enjin walked as if he didn't notice, his hands loose at his sides, posture unshakably confident. There was always something about him that felt untouchable, like a storm contained within a single person. Sharp eyes that seemed to catch every flicker of movement, a smirk that rarely slipped, and a way of carrying himself that made silence feel like it belonged to him.

Yet tonight, beside you, that storm seemed quieter. His strides slowed to match yours, the cocky rhythm tempered by something softer. The world around you faded into the hum of incoherent noises you couldn't make out even if you wanted to, and in this muted state, his fingers brushed against yours. For once, Enjin hesitated.

He glanced at you, the playful arrogance he usually wore faltering into something more fragile, yet still peaking through with every confident move, almost like muscle memory for every time you've been together. Then, with a deliberate shift, his hand slid into yours, firm but careful, like he was testing if you'd allow him to stay.

"You've been driving me crazy," Enjin said at last. His voice was low and edged with a laugh that couldn't quite mask the weight behind his words. "And I mean that in the worst and best ways." his thumb traced over your knuckles, the motion absent but lingering, betraying how much he wanted to hold on. He hesitated a little before finally speaking his mind, "I love you."

You tilted your head, smiling just enough to make his composure slip. "Took you long enough to say it."

That earned you a chuckle, genuine and unguarded, before he stopped walking entirely, and he tugged you gently closer, the usual sharpness in his gaze softening in a way he rarely let anyone see. "Yeah," he admitted, almost a whisper now, "Guess I was waiting for the right moment."

And then he leaned in, his forehead brushing against yours, a pause to give you the choice. When you didn't pull away, his lips found yours, warm and steady, carrying every unsaid confession he'd buried beneath his bravado. For once, Enjin wasn't untouchable. He was yours.

Zanka

The night stretched endlessly above as Zanka walked beside you in silence. He had always been a figure of restraint—his movements precise, his voice measured—as if every word and gesture carried weight he couldn't afford to waste. Where others rushed, Zanka lingered, his calm presence steadying like the low rumble of distant thunder.

Now, he kept his hands clasped loosely behind his back, posture straight, eyes forward. Yet every so often, you caught him glancing sideways at you, a flicker of something softer breaking through his natural stoic mask. When your hand brushed his, Zanka paused mid-step, the faintest crease in his brow revealing a battle between caution and longing.

Slowly, almost ceremoniously, he reached out and let his fingers slip into yours. His hand was firm, his grip secure, yet the way he held you felt more like reverence than possession. He was memorizing the shape of your palm against his.

"You give me peace," Zanka said at last, his deep voice carrying through the quiet night. The words were simple, but the sincerity behind them pressed into you like a vow. He rarely spoke of himself, rarely let anyone see past his calm exterior, but in this moment, he offered you a truth he had guarded carefully.

You felt a smile tug at your lips. "And you make me feel safe."

That drew his gaze fully to you, eyes dark and steady, the weight of a thousand unspoken thoughts hanging between you. He stopped, turning to face you, his composure softening for the first time. "Then let me stay by your side," he murmured.

He leaned in with the same restraint he lived by, forehead brushing yours, breath steady against your lips. When he finally kissed you, it wasn't rushed or uncertain. It was deliberate, grounded, a promise etched into the quiet night. With Zanka, even tenderness felt unshakable.