𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓.ᐟ૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა ✦

om this note, what do y'all wanna see from me? feel free to answer the poll below and comment your thoughts !

The storm outside seemed to be intensifying, and a particularly loud clap of thunder rattled the bedroom windows. You shrank a little deeper into the sheets, trying to close any distance between you and him.

Enjin sighed deeply, a low sound that vibrated against your ear, and reached out to pull you closer to his chest. The warmth of his body and that constant scent of tobacco enveloped you completely, creating an invisible barrier against the cold outside.

"You're still shivering," he murmured, his voice hoarse with sleep, but filled with a gentleness he reserved only for you.

You felt his rough, warm fingers tangle in your hair, gently brushing strands away from your forehead with a delicacy that contrasted sharply with his usual strength. There are no trash-dwelling beasts in here. No helpless orphans. In this small space, the rest of the world ceases to exist.

"Sleep," he whispered in your ear, resting his chin on your head. "I'll keep watch. The rain won't get in."

Ever since you'd both run away from the orphanage, you'd sought in him what you couldn't find anywhere else. Of course, he was much older than you, and that made it even easier. You ran into his arms, searching for the love you'd never found in childhood. After everything you'd been through together, he was your support, and you were his.

Everything he did, he did for you, to help you get ahead and keep you from having to live through the same hell he'd endured.

The rain reminded you of everything you'd had to go through to survive until someone rescued you. And Enjin knew it; just like you, he hated the rain. You were looking for in him what Enjin had found in Unbreaker.

If you are, can I request Tamsy with a sensitive reader pls?

- (⁠´⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠.̫⁠ ⁠.⁠ ⁠`⁠)

Sorry i'm too late, but enjoy this nonie

⁠๑ Although he is naturally very clingy and instinctively possessive, he learns to restrain himself with you.

⁠๑ You'll often see him leaning against your bedroom doorframe, reading or simply observing you silently, giving you space but making sure no one else comes near to bother you.

⁠๑ On quiet afternoons, when you're feeling stressed, he lets you comb or braid his long hair.

⁠๑ He prefers times when you're both doing different things in the same place.

om this note, what do y'all wanna see from me? feel free to answer the poll below and comment your thoughts !

Tamsy was completely in love.

The way you played with a strand of his hair made his heart race like crazy. He swallowed hard, holding his breath.

He looked at you for a few silent seconds, and when you gave him that smile, it was the absolute end of him. Nothing and no one had ever made him feel this way.

You even haunted his dreams.

He would find himself remembering that characteristic smile of yours, the shape of your lips, and how damn soft they looked.

He deeply longed to touch your hair and tangle his fingers in it, mimicking the way you did with his.

To make matters worse, the sound of your voice stayed trapped in his mind for hours. He adored the echo of your laugh and the shyness with which you always tried to cover your face with your hands.

It was inevitable: his heart went wild whenever he saw you. Tamsy was dying to feel your skin, wrap you in his arms, press his lips against yours, and never let go.

The training yard was unusually quiet, save for the annoying, rhythmic tapping of Zanka's foot on the ground.

You'd been trying to master that new move for three hours, but Zanka wasn't making it easy. Every five minutes, he found a new reason to criticize your work.

"Your stance is wrong," Zanka said, walking past you and roughly shaking your arm. "Can't you do a basic movement?"

You gritted your teeth.

"Sorry. I'll fix it right now."

"Yeah, well, do it faster. We don't have all day," he huffed, crossing hid arms. "Sometimes I wonder how you even survived before you got here. It's infuriating having to watch your every move."

That was the last straw.

The constant condescension, the subtle insults, and hid perpetual air of superiority had been building for weeks. Something inside you just snapped. You dropped the training stick you were using, letting it bounce on the floor, and faced him with such force that Zanka took a small step back in surprise.

"That's enough, Zanka! I'm fed up!" you shouted, your voice trembling with pure rage. "I do nothing but work hard here! I stay late, I put up with your awful moods, and all I get in return are your stupid complaints and insults. If you hate me so much and my presence bothers you so much, then train by yourself!"

Zanka froze. His eyes widened behind him, and the sarcastic retort he had prepared vanished completely in his throat. He had never seen you lose your temper like that. You had always been the patient one, the one who simply smiled and endured his nonsense.

The place fell into a tense silence. Seeing his stunned face, your anger quickly transformed into deep frustration. You took a step back, turned around, and tried to walk toward the door to keep from bursting into tears in front of him.

But before you could take three steps, Zanka reacted. His hand closed around your wrist, stopping you in your tracks.

"Wait..." he pleaded. His voice no longer held any trace of its usual arrogance; it sounded broken, almost frightened.

"Let go Zanka," you said without turning around, your voice choked with emotion.

Instead of letting go, he gently pulled you back to force you to turn. When you looked at him, his face was completely red, and his eyes reflected genuine panic. The great, proud warrior looked like a small child who had just made the worst mistake of his life.

"I'm sorry," he blurted out. Seeing him apologize was already a miracle, but Zanka didn't stop there. "I was an idiot. A fucking idiot. I don't hate you... quite the opposite, damn it. I'm just terrible at expressing myself, and I took it out on you because I know you're the only person who can tolerate me. Please, don't go."

Before you could reply, Zanka took a step toward you, closing the distance. His hands, which usually gripped his Vital Instrument with such ferocity, rose with incredible shyness to your cheeks. He cupped your face, forcing you to look at him.

"Let me fix this," he whispered, his voice trembling.

Zanka leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. It was an awkward kiss at first, laden with all the desperation and guilt he felt, but it quickly transformed into something profoundly sweet. He kissed you with a tenderness you would never have imagined from someone so rough, using his lips to beg for your forgiveness.

When he pulled back just millimeters, his eyes, fixed on yours, were still full of pleading.

"I'm sorry," he murmured against your lips, before leaning down again and planting a soft kiss on your left cheek, right where a tear threatened to fall.

"I'm sorry for being so unbearable," he continued, leaving another warm kiss on your right cheek.

He moved up a little higher and pressed a long, comforting kiss to your forehead, right in the space between your brows that had been furrowed with anger. Feeling his lips there made all the tension you'd been carrying in your body completely melt away.

Finally, he returned to your mouth, giving you one last short kiss, a final seal of his apology.

When he finished, Zanka didn't let go. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, holding you tightly around the waist as his breathing slowed. His body was still warm, and his heart pounded against your chest.

"Don't scare me like that again," he grumbled against your skin, though his grip was that of someone who never intended to let you go. "I promise to control my damn temper. Just... stay with me."

Can I request request Zanka x sleepyhead!reader. Where reader used to always take naps where ever and when ever she gets the chance to,but changed when she started dating Zanka. Now she naps where ever he is! And maybe sometimes on him if she gets the chance to. (*´ω｀*)

Thank youuu and feel free to ignore!!!! |˶˙ᵕ˙ )ﾉﾞ

Before Zanka, sleep was just an unpredictable reflex. You were famous for your ability to fall asleep in any microsecond. You'd nap on top of a pile of empty boxes, curled up under August's stack of fabrics, and once, to everyone's horror, face down on a mountain of already sorted trash during a short break.

You slept anywhere, anytime. It didn't matter if the floor was hard or the room noisy. If your eyes got heavy, you'd succumb.

But after you and Zanka started dating, your internal radar shifted completely.

You didn't stop napping...that was impossible, but your choice of spot changed drastically. You no longer collapsed in random corners of the base. Instead, you developed a whole new habit: you only slept where Zanka was.

"Are you serious right now?" Enjin grumbled, entering the common room one afternoon. He stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the floor.

Zanka sat cross-legged against the wall, aggressively polishing his weapon. His face was a mask of intense concentration, but he was completely immobilized from the waist down. You were curled up on the floor right next to him, using his left thigh as a pillow. Your eyes were tightly closed, and your breathing was slow and rhythmic.

"Don't shout," Zanka hissed, his voice a harsh but low whisper. A deep blush crept up his neck, a stark contrast to his usual demeanor. "You'll wake her up."

"Why is she sleeping there? There are literally couches next to you," Enjin sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Because she wants to be here, okay?!" Zanka snapped back, turning his face away to hide his embarrassment.

The truth was, Zanka's presence had become your ultimate comfort zone. In a world as chaotic and dangerous as this, his proud yet fiercely protective nature acted as a shield. When you were near him, your brain finally felt safe enough to shut down completely.

At first, Zanka hadn't known how to handle it. He was a guy who lived for action, discipline, and looking imposing. Having a girlfriend who constantly turned him into a human mattress wasn't exactly part of his training regimen.

But little by little, he learned to adapt.

A few weeks later, the Cleaners were taking a break after a grueling cleanup operation. The team was scattered around a makeshift rest area. Zanka sat on a wooden bench, arms crossed over his chest, staring at the horizon with a frown as he ran through his combat moves in his head.

You approached him, blinking heavily from the sudden wave of exhaustion hitting your limbs. Without a word, you plopped down beside him. You didn't just lean against him; you settled in until you were practically in his lap, your arms loosely wrapped around his torso, your face buried in the crook of his neck.

Zanka stiffened completely. His hands floated in the air for a second, unsure where to go.

"Uh. Hey," he murmured, his heart pounding against his ribs. "People are watching."

You just let out a soft, pleased moan, tightening your grip on his shirt as your eyes closed. The ambient warmth radiating from him was better than any blanket.

Zanka glanced around warily. Rudo was busy staring at a piece of scrap metal, and Enjin was chatting with the others, but he still felt intensely watched. He swallowed, his pride battling the overwhelming wave of affection crashing over him.

Defeated by your utter, stubborn comfort, Zanka let out a long sigh. His shoulders relaxed. Slowly, carefully, he wrapped one of his large, calloused hands around your waist, pulling you firmly against his chest. His other hand moved up, gently tangling his fingers in your hair, stroking it.

"You're ridiculous," he murmured, his voice softening into a tone he only used when you were alone. "A real menace."

I was thinking about this scenario where the cleaners go to a festival (kinda like doll fest) while Reader and Zanka go off on to have a cute little date☺️…but Enjin and rudo catch them sharing a intimate kiss and tease zanka on the way back

Idk I thought it would be cute, feel free to change anything! Hope you have a good rest of your day 💕

Hello honey, sorry this is too short 😔🥺

Rudo looked around as if it were the first time Zanka and you were showing affection toward each other. Perhaps it really was the first time both of you had let your guard down so much. The festival was still in full swing; there were games, food, and fun everywhere. But to Rudo, there was only one thing that seemed truly extraordinary.

Zanka and you were kissing. It wasn’t a timid or rushed kiss; it was a kiss worthy of fireworks. Had you waited just a little longer, the sky would have lit up to give you the perfect backdrop.

"Good heavens," Enjin said, resting an arm over Rudo’s shoulders. "Couldn't those two wait until we got back to the base?"

The cigarette in his mouth was still lit. A few ashes fell onto Rudo’s clothes, though he didn’t even bother to brush them off.

"Did you know about this? The two of them...?"

Enjin let out a laugh.

"Everyone knows. Didn't you?"

Rudo felt embarrassed, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t tease Zanka about it later.

As Zanka and you slowly broke apart, still in your own world, Enjin gave Rudo a gentle nudge to start walking toward the parking lot. Rudo, with his hands shoved deep into his pockets, kept glancing back over his shoulder, visibly confused.

"I don't get it," Rudo grumbled, furrowing his brow. "We're supposed to be Cleaners. We're surrounded by trash, monsters, and danger all the time. How do you even have the peace of mind for... that?"

Enjin exhaled a thick cloud of smoke and smiled nostalgically, looking back at the fading festival lights.

"Precisely because of that, brat," Enjin replied, adjusting his cape. "In a world as messed up as this one, finding someone who reminds you why it’s worth staying alive and fighting... well, that’s the most valuable thing you’ll ever have."

Rudo remained quiet for a few moments, processing his mentor's words, though the mature moment didn’t last very long.

"Still, Zanka looked ridiculous," Rudo muttered with a scowl, trying to hide his own shyness. "It looked like his heart was gonna burst right out of his mouth."

"Ah, that’s true," Enjin teased, his usual cheerful tone snapping right back. "He melts completely. Don't let him off easy, got it? We've gotta remind him on the way back."

Now, everyone was on their way back to the base in the truck. The music chosen by Enjin played softly in the background while the others tried to get some rest. You had your head resting on Zanka’s shoulder; he tried to play it cool by gripping Assistaff tightly, even though he was dying to wrap his arm around you. Unfortunately, Enjin noticed.

"Hey, Zanka. If only you hugged your girl the way you hug your Jinki..."

Zanka blushed violently while tightening his grip on his staff. He didn’t move a single muscle, terrified of waking you up.

"Hey, Zanka, your face is redder than Riyo’s hair. Is that normal?" Rudo blurted out, following the advice Enjin had given him just minutes before.

Enjin couldn’t hold back his laughter.

"Shut up, brat," Zanka whispered through gritted teeth. "The moment we get out of this truck, I’m gonna give you what you deserve."

—

Possibly a Zanka x reader fic where Rudo has a crush on Amo/a random girl (you can either include amo's name or no if you don't like the ship!!) and since he knows reader and zanka are dating, and him and zanka constantly bicker he decides to go to reader for advice until it just becomes a constant habit and he's constantly bothering reader for stuff like eg asking if they know amo's fav color, what flowers would be best to buy, etc. and reader doesn't mind but Zanka is pissed tf off 😭 bcs he can never get alone time with reader and he becomes extra clingy toward them and is constantly ushering them away from Rudo with excuses and stuff, basically crack/fluff ?? 🥹🥹

As always tysm if you do this and make sure to take your time and take care of yourself!! LOVEYOUUU — 🌒 anon

Hello!!! hope you like this

"Do you think she likes pink? I mean, it’s a nice color, but maybe she prefers orange. Dammit"

Rudo was pacing in circles around your room, pulling at his hair in frustration. You were sitting on the bed, trying to mend a jacket, watching him with a mix of amusement and pity.

"Rudo, breathe," you said calmly. "Amo likes anything with cute details. Pink is fine."

"Are you sure? Because if I screw this up, Zanka is going to mock me for the rest of my miserable life."

"Why would he even find out?"

"Because that idiot sticks his nose into everything!" Rudo snorted, crossing his arms. "Plus, you're the only one who doesn't yell at me when I ask this stuff. You're like… a girl encyclopedia, but nice."

This was the new normal. Ever since Rudo accepted his feelings for Amo, and knowing that you and Zanka were dating, he decided you were the perfect person to go to for advice. It started with simple questions, but now he showed up at any hour. How do you greet a girl without looking like a creep? Are poems stupid?

You didn't mind helping him. The problem, in fact, was on his way and stomping loudly.

The bedroom door flew open. Zanka stood in the doorway, a vein popping on his forehead, his arms loaded with a couple of drinks. His gaze pierced Rudo immediately.

"What are you doing here again, brat?" Zanka growled, stepping into the room and placing himself firmly between Rudo and you. "This is our free time. Ours. Get out."

"I was just asking her something important!" Rudo shot back, taking a step forward without backing down. "I'm not even taking five minutes of her time, you shitty boy."

"I don't give a damn! You've been coming here for 'five minutes' for three days straight. Get your own girlfriend and stop bothering mine."

"I'm trying! That's why I ask her for advice and not you, you have the romance of a literal rock!"

Before Zanka could drop the drinks to grab Rudo by his hoodie, you stepped in with a sigh, placing a hand on your boyfriend's chest. Zanka froze instantly, though he kept glaring at Rudo as if trying to disintegrate him with his mind.

"Rudo," you said in a soft but firm tone, "chocolates are a safe bet. Now, go practice your greeting in the mirror."

Rudo nodded quickly, mentally taking note of the tip. "Thanks! You're the best. And you, tone down the jealousy, you staff bastard!" Rudo yelled as he bolted down the hallway before Zanka could kill him.

Zanka let out a loud huff, kicked the door shut, and turned to you. The intimidating, tough Cleaner warrior vanished in a second, replaced by a completely indignant boy with a massive pout on his lips.

He set the drinks on the table and flopped heavily beside you on the bed, burying his face into your neck immediately. His long arms wrapped around your waist in an almost possessive grip, pulling you completely against his body.

"I hate him. I swear to you I hate him," Zanka muttered, his voice vibrating against your skin. "We can't even spend ten minutes alone without the brat coming over to ask if Amo likes shiny rocks or whatever.

"He's just nervous, Zanka," you laughed, running your fingers through his messy hair. "He knows we're dating and he trusts me. Besides, it's sweet that he wants to make an effort for Amo."

"I don't care about his love life." Zanka tightened his grip, nuzzling his cheek against yours like a huge, grumpy cat. "I care that he's stealing my time with you. I work all day, I train all day, and when I finally get to hold you, I have to listen to his whiny voice talking about flowers. Flowers!

"Well, we are alone now," you reminded him, giving him a sweet kiss on the cheek. "Nobody is going to bother us."

Zanka seemed to calm down a bit, relaxing his shoulders. He stared at you with those intense eyes of his, a smug smirk starting to play on his lips. He leaned in to kiss you for real, savoring the moment he had waited for so long…

TAP, TAP, TAP!

Rapid knocks echoed against the bedroom window.

Zanka froze millimeters away from your lips. Slowly, both of you turned your heads toward the glass. Rudo was outside, hanging dangerously from the edge of the roof, tapping on the glass with his knuckles.

"Hey!" Rudo shouted through the window. "I forgot to ask! Do you think if I give her a cool gear she'll throw it away or keep it? I found a really shiny one!"

Zanka made a sound that resembled the roar of a wounded beast.

Before you could stop him, he sprang out of the bed, scooped you up bridal-style without warning, and carried you toward the bedroom closet.

"Zanka?! What are you doing?!" you exclaimed, dying of laughter.

"We're moving," he declared with absolute seriousness, stepping into the massive wardrobe with you, shutting the wooden doors behind them, and leaving you both in total darkness. "If we stay out there, he's going to break the window. He can't see us in here."

The closet was cramped, stuffed with heavy coats and spare uniforms, forcing Zanka to be completely pressed against you. He sat you on his lap, wrapping his legs and arms around you, hiding his face in your hair.

From outside the room, the window could be heard sliding open. "Hello? Did the ground swallow you guys up? I know you're still in here!"

Zanka let out a low growl into your ear, but he didn't move. He held you tighter, securing his territory. Even though the hiding spot was ridiculous and the space was tight, the warmth of his body and the absurdly jealous, clingy way he held onto you made you smile.

"Are we going to stay here forever?" you whispered playfully.

Sorry if you don't understand, I'm using a translator, and if you don't understand the request, feel free to ignore it.

Goodbye, have a good day or good evening •^^•

This took me like forever but is finally here🫣

It was late. The mission had been massively delayed due to an unexpected ambush by the Raiders, forcing everyone to return to headquarters completely exhausted, covered in dust, and with spirits at an all-time low.

On your shoulders rested Dear’s sleeping body. Not only had he done an impeccable, fierce job on the battlefield, but his bedtime had long since passed, turning him into a heavy, snoring sack of lethargy. It took what felt like an eternity to get him to release his obsessive grip on your clothes, but you finally managed to gently lay him down in his bed.

As you closed his door, the quietness of the headquarters enveloped you. You walked slowly through the dark hallways, dragging your feet and holding your breath so as not to wake anyone. Stepping into the infirmary, the cold, metallic air of the room welcomed you as you fumbled around for some gauze, rubbing alcohol, and clean bandages. It was only when you turned on the small desk lamp and shed your jacket that you could see the true severity of your injuries.

You had to choke back a gasp between your teeth; your arm throbbed violently, the open flesh refused to stop bleeding, and the slightest movement sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the stinging burn of the disinfectant, when a firm, unexpected hand snatched the gauze right from your fingers.

Your eyes snapped open. It was Zanka.

The gaze he locked onto you was severe, his face tight with clear irritation. Looking at his pristine, perfectly intact hairstyle, you knew instantly that he hadn't even attempted to go to bed yet.

"Were you planning on bleeding out in silence?" he scolded, his voice rougher than usual, breaking the stillness of the night.

"You should be sleeping," you countered, trying to regain control of the situation and hide your trembling.

"So should you," he snapped, setting the gauze aside to pick up a clean bandage. His movements were brusque as he unwrapped the materials, but his fingers showed a disconcerting gentleness the moment they brushed against your skin. "Keeping all this pain to yourself just so you won't worry your brother... It’s ridiculous."

"I'm his older sister, Zanka," you said, straightening your back despite the pulsing pain. "Dear doesn't need to see me vulnerable. That is my job."

The tension in the tiny room spiked in an instant. You kept trying to brush off the injury, shielding yourself behind the protector role you had carried like an invisible suit of armor for years. Zanka didn't reply right away; he kept his eyes fixed on your arm, completely focused on applying the exact amount of pressure needed to stop the bleeding without hurting you further. Only when the knot of the bandage was perfectly secured did his dark eyes lift to meet yours.

"He's a Cleaner too, and he's no baby," he stated firmly, closing the distance between you. "You aren't made of steel. Who the hell looks after you if you break?"

Those words hit you straight in the chest, completely disarming you. The accumulated exhaustion of so many years protecting Dear, pretending that the hostile world wasn't tearing at your skin, caught up to you in a single second. You lowered your gaze, unable to handle the rush of emotions in his eyes, and a solitary, treacherous tear began to roll down your cheek.

Before you could apologize or wipe away your weakness, Zanka's thumb intercepted it gently. His touch, usually calloused from training, felt warm against your skin. And without giving you time to process it, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest in a firm hug. It was a bit clumsy, stiff at first due to his own stubborn pride, but bursting with a warmth so genuine that it was enough to melt your armor away. For the first time in years, you let yourself rest your head and just breathe.

From that night on, the atmosphere at headquarters shifted completely, and everyone noticed it, including Dear.

The little boy used to follow you around like a faithful shadow whenever Bro wasn't around. However, once Zanka silently decided to join that line to guard your steps, Dear had no choice but to accept his presence, sparking a quiet, comical daily competition. It became a regular routine.

If you sat down at the table to eat, Dear would rush urgently to claim the empty seat next to you, making sure your spot was spotlessly clean; but Zanka, with an exasperating naturalness that drove your younger brother crazy, would appear from behind to drop an extra portion of food onto your plate. During grueling training sessions, Zanka would step between you and the heaviest blows with blinding speed, using the strength to protect your injured arm; but Dear wouldn't be outdone, rushing in to break both of your personal spaces just to shove a bottle of cold water into your hands before Zanka could even utter a word.

Slowly but surely, you stopped seeing Zanka as just a friend, proud battlefield companion. He became your pillar, the safe haven you never thought you'd have. For the first time in your life, you experienced the absolute relief of being able to close your eyes in the middle of the chaos, knowing with total certainty that someone had your back.

And even when you opened them to see Zanka scolding Dear while secretly helping him polish his combat technique as if he were his own younger brother, your heart felt flooded with a deep, peaceful warmth. You weren't alone in this anymore.

Sorry if you don't understand, I'm using a translator, and if you don't understand the request, feel free to ignore it.

Goodbye, have a good day or good evening •^^•

This took me like forever but is finally here🫣

It was late. The mission had been massively delayed due to an unexpected ambush by the Raiders, forcing everyone to return to headquarters completely exhausted, covered in dust, and with spirits at an all-time low.

On your shoulders rested Dear’s sleeping body. Not only had he done an impeccable, fierce job on the battlefield, but his bedtime had long since passed, turning him into a heavy, snoring sack of lethargy. It took what felt like an eternity to get him to release his obsessive grip on your clothes, but you finally managed to gently lay him down in his bed.

As you closed his door, the quietness of the headquarters enveloped you. You walked slowly through the dark hallways, dragging your feet and holding your breath so as not to wake anyone. Stepping into the infirmary, the cold, metallic air of the room welcomed you as you fumbled around for some gauze, rubbing alcohol, and clean bandages. It was only when you turned on the small desk lamp and shed your jacket that you could see the true severity of your injuries.

You had to choke back a gasp between your teeth; your arm throbbed violently, the open flesh refused to stop bleeding, and the slightest movement sent a sharp shiver down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the stinging burn of the disinfectant, when a firm, unexpected hand snatched the gauze right from your fingers.

Your eyes snapped open. It was Zanka.

The gaze he locked onto you was severe, his face tight with clear irritation. Looking at his pristine, perfectly intact hairstyle, you knew instantly that he hadn't even attempted to go to bed yet.

"Were you planning on bleeding out in silence?" he scolded, his voice rougher than usual, breaking the stillness of the night.

"You should be sleeping," you countered, trying to regain control of the situation and hide your trembling.

"So should you," he snapped, setting the gauze aside to pick up a clean bandage. His movements were brusque as he unwrapped the materials, but his fingers showed a disconcerting gentleness the moment they brushed against your skin. "Keeping all this pain to yourself just so you won't worry your brother... It’s ridiculous."

"I'm his older sister, Zanka," you said, straightening your back despite the pulsing pain. "Dear doesn't need to see me vulnerable. That is my job."

The tension in the tiny room spiked in an instant. You kept trying to brush off the injury, shielding yourself behind the protector role you had carried like an invisible suit of armor for years. Zanka didn't reply right away; he kept his eyes fixed on your arm, completely focused on applying the exact amount of pressure needed to stop the bleeding without hurting you further. Only when the knot of the bandage was perfectly secured did his dark eyes lift to meet yours.

"He's a Cleaner too, and he's no baby," he stated firmly, closing the distance between you. "You aren't made of steel. Who the hell looks after you if you break?"

Those words hit you straight in the chest, completely disarming you. The accumulated exhaustion of so many years protecting Dear, pretending that the hostile world wasn't tearing at your skin, caught up to you in a single second. You lowered your gaze, unable to handle the rush of emotions in his eyes, and a solitary, treacherous tear began to roll down your cheek.

Before you could apologize or wipe away your weakness, Zanka's thumb intercepted it gently. His touch, usually calloused from training, felt warm against your skin. And without giving you time to process it, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight against his chest in a firm hug. It was a bit clumsy, stiff at first due to his own stubborn pride, but bursting with a warmth so genuine that it was enough to melt your armor away. For the first time in years, you let yourself rest your head and just breathe.

From that night on, the atmosphere at headquarters shifted completely, and everyone noticed it, including Dear.

The little boy used to follow you around like a faithful shadow whenever Bro wasn't around. However, once Zanka silently decided to join that line to guard your steps, Dear had no choice but to accept his presence, sparking a quiet, comical daily competition. It became a regular routine.

If you sat down at the table to eat, Dear would rush urgently to claim the empty seat next to you, making sure your spot was spotlessly clean; but Zanka, with an exasperating naturalness that drove your younger brother crazy, would appear from behind to drop an extra portion of food onto your plate. During grueling training sessions, Zanka would step between you and the heaviest blows with blinding speed, using the strength to protect your injured arm; but Dear wouldn't be outdone, rushing in to break both of your personal spaces just to shove a bottle of cold water into your hands before Zanka could even utter a word.

Slowly but surely, you stopped seeing Zanka as just a friend, proud battlefield companion. He became your pillar, the safe haven you never thought you'd have. For the first time in your life, you experienced the absolute relief of being able to close your eyes in the middle of the chaos, knowing with total certainty that someone had your back.

And even when you opened them to see Zanka scolding Dear while secretly helping him polish his combat technique as if he were his own younger brother, your heart felt flooded with a deep, peaceful warmth. You weren't alone in this anymore.

Zanka x Fem!Reader. Long fanfic

Warnings: Mention of blood, cannibalism, death, abuse but nothing that specific.

Chapter II

You Know the Role you're Playin'

CHAPTER III

Enjin’s face looked unusually pale, and those golden eyes that always flashed with mischief were now dull, like dying embers. He tried to offer you a smile, but it broke before it could even form; it was a painfully false mask of composure. When he reached out to caress your cheek, you flinched away, unable to process the coldness of the situation.

He didn't protest. He lowered his gaze and murmured in a husky voice: "I’m fine... You have no reason to worry."

"Fine?" The laugh that escaped your throat sounded broken, laced with an irony you couldn't contain. "I can't believe you. You were a breath away from death, and you expect me to swallow that stupid smile of yours..."

The heat of tears began to spill down your cheeks before you could stop them. You brought a hand to your chest; the anguish burned inside you, as if the very air hurt as it entered your lungs.

"Enjin, I... I was so scared," you confessed in a thread of a voice.

Your vision blurred completely. The world around you lost its axis and your legs gave out, yielding to the weight of the residual panic. But you didn't hit the ground. Before you could fall, his arms wrapped around you with desperate firmness, locking you against his chest in an embrace that tried to piece together both of your broken parts.

You heard the echo of a shaky sigh in his chest. "I don't know what to say..." His voice sounded so dull, so stripped of his usual arrogance, that it completely shattered you. "I was scared too."

Your eyes snapped open against his shoulder. While the room kept spinning, your only anchor to reality was the scent of tobacco and perfume emanating from his clothes.

"I was terrified of never seeing you again," he continued, squeezing you tighter against him, as if fearing you might vanish. "Of never hearing your voice, of your smile becoming nothing but a memory."

"Stop, Enjin... please," you pleaded, hiding your face in his neck.

"I was afraid of dying far away from you," he confessed in a whisper that vibrated against your skin.

You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, searching for the truth in his gaze. "Don't lie... Do you really think that would have been okay?"

A solitary tear traced a path down Enjin's cheek, betraying his facade of steel. Clumsily, you reached out to wipe it away. Sensing your touch, he caught your fingers, bringing them to his lips to press a chaste but desperate kiss against your skin.

"I don't want you to die," you whispered, and with your free hand, you traced the edges of his bandaged wounds with infinite tenderness.

He didn't even flinch at the physical pain. On the contrary, he closed his eyes, surrendering entirely to the warmth of your touch, as if your hands possessed the power to heal the soul that had almost slipped away from him.

"I don't want to die," he admitted, opening his eyes to lock them onto yours. "But if fate forces me to... I wouldn't want you there to see it."

Your heart tightened. Even though his words tried to protect you by pushing you away from his tragedy, the silent plea in his golden eyes screamed the exact opposite: he was begging you not to let go.

"Stop it," you said, torn between the angry impulse to hit him for being so reckless and the fervent desire to kiss him just to make sure he was still alive.

Enjin seemed to read your torment. A spark of his old self returned to his eyes, and the corner of his lips tugged upward. "Come on, doll... you're not getting rid of me that easily."

Even at the edge of the abyss, he couldn't stop joking. That tiny flash of arrogance brought your soul back into your body; it relieved you to know that, no matter what happened, Enjin would always be Enjin. He was someone who would embrace death without a second thought if it meant fulfilling his purpose. You knew it, you understood it, and you loved him for it... But as you watched him smile through your tears, you couldn't help but wonder: if his devotion was so pure, why did loving him have to hurt so much?