𝐂𝐰𝐚𝐳𝐲:𝐁

Hearbreak Anniversary with Zayne

Summary: It was your anniversary with Zayne. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC? Pairing: Non MC! Reader x Zayne Note: MC in this fic goes by the name Lina (my name... so if you are angry, you can be angry at me :3). This oneshot was based on this request. I will write this for the other LADS men too. Also I don't think any of these men would ever be the type to actually willlingly forget it. Especially Zayne. So I had to adapt the request a bit. Content Warning: injuries, panic, insecurities, self worth issues, Zayne POV

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version

Zayne’s apartment smelled like him—clean, crisp, and faintly of the eucalyptus-scented candles he kept on the shelves. You sat on the edge of his couch, smoothing the fabric of your dress down your thighs, nerves making your fingers tremble slightly. The dim light of the chandelier cast a soft glow over the room, illuminating the carefully planned surprise you had for him —flowers, his favorite treats, elegant scarves, and jackets you had spent weeks picking out. The final touch was the flexible weekend getaway tickets, somewhere warm and far from the sterility of hospital walls. A place where he could finally rest.

You had gone all out for tonight. The garden-themed restaurant was supposed to be the perfect setting—a quiet, intimate place where vines curled around twinkling fairy lights, and the soft scent of fresh blooms would fill the air. And you had dressed accordingly with something elegant, something that made you feel beautiful for him. The deep navy-blue dress you wore clung to your form just right, the intricate lace details at the sleeves soft against your skin. You had taken your time getting ready, styling your hair to perfection, slipping on a pair of delicate earrings he once admired absentmindedly. A spritz of white jasmine perfume, the one he once said reminded him of spring mornings. You wanted to look like someone worthy of being by his side. You wanted to be beautiful for him, for the man who had somehow, impossibly, fallen for you.

Because, truth be told, there were times you weren’t sure you were.

you still didn’t understand how this happened—how Zayne, the prodigy, the man who could save lives with his hands and mind, had chosen you. He was brilliant, disciplined, and deeply compassionate. And you? You were just… you. Ordinary in comparison. He never made you feel small, never belittled you, but standing beside him you felt you were just lucky to be there. His world was one of brilliance, filled with extraordinary people—Lina, the fearless Deepspace Hunter; his late friend Caleb, a DAA pilot whose loss still lingered in hushed conversations; his esteemed mentors and fellow doctors who spoke in a language you could only ever grasp at the edges. Compared to them, compared to him, you felt so small.

But tonight, none of that mattered. Tonight, was supposed to be about the two of you.

You had fallen for him in the quietest of ways—through the gentle cadence of his voice, through the moments he noticed things others didn’t. How he’d pull a chair out for you before you could do it yourself, how he’d check the temperature of your tea so you wouldn’t burn your tongue, how he’d listen, really listen, to your ramblings even after a 48-hour shift. He had nestled himself into your heart without you even realizing it.

And tonight, he had insisted he wanted to be with you, even with the chaos of the hospital weighing on his shoulders.

The call came two hours before your reservation. You already knew what he was going to say the moment you saw his name flash on your screen.

“Hey, sweetheart…” Zayne’s voice was warm, familiar, but there was an edge of exhaustion to it. “I’m so sorry. I can’t make it tonight.”

Your heart sank, but you swallowed it down, forcing your voice to remain even. “It’s okay, Zayne. I know you’re busy.”

“It's been a long shift, and the surgeries…”

You nodded even though he couldn’t see you. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cancel the reservation. Take some breaks and rest, okay? You sound tired…”

“I am fine, sweetheart. I’ll make it up to you,” he promised. “I swear.”

"It’s fine, Zayne." you whispered, even if it wasn’t. “We’ll just celebrate it another day. No big deal.” Even though it felt like one at the moment.

Still, you weren’t upset. Not really. You understood. You always understood.

You hung up and exhaled slowly, pressing your palms against your lap. It wasn’t his fault. He was working back-to-back shifts, saving lives, doing what he was meant to do. And yet, you couldn’t quite keep the disappointment from settling in your chest.

You exhaled slowly, stripping away the dress you had so eagerly put on just hours ago. You slip into into one of Zayne’s oversized sweaters instead, the one that still smelled like him, the sleeves swallowing your hands. You wear leggings underneath and slip on your shoes. You took your time packing the gifts back into the car, moving slowly, as if dragging out the moment would make it hurt less. Maybe when he was finally done, you could pick him up from the hospital. At least you’d get to see him and surprise him. This was what occupied your time for the next three to four hours.

Once everything was back in the car, you plopped yourself on his plush but ergonomic couch. You scrolled through your phone while waiting, mindlessly tapping through social media, until one post stopped you cold.

Lina’s story.

A picture of her sitting across from Zayne in a small restaurant outside Akso hospital, the caption lighthearted:

When you have to drag out your doctor because he won’t follow his own advice about resting. (-_-)

Zayne looked amused in the photo, tired but still composed, his lips slightly curved in a small, rare smile. He looked… content. His gaze focused on her as if she had just said something ridiculous.

Your fingers trembled as you stared at the screen.

It was stupid. It was so stupid to feel like this. Lina was his childhood best friend. She had never given you a reason to be insecure, and yet, the sting of it hit you like a slow, creeping ache. He had time to go out for a meal with her. He had time to smile like that, even after canceling on you. You knew you were being irrational, that he had only stepped out for a quick bite in his busy shift, yet you felt betrayed.

Tears pricked at your eyes before you could stop them. You wiped them away quickly, but they kept falling, silent at first, then turning into quiet, shuddering sobs. You felt pathetic. Childish. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. You knew he wasn’t. But it hurt anyway. Because you would have taken anything—just a few moments, even just a simple meal at that tiny restaurant, if it meant spending time with him today.

It hurt in a way that made your chest feel tight, made the lump in your throat impossible to swallow. The sting of it crept under your skin like a wound you hadn’t realized was open, raw and aching. The disappointment bled into something uglier, something heavier. Why, after everything, did it feel like you were always on the sidelines of his life? No, Zayne never made you feel that way. It was your own spiraling thoughts.

A loud sob choked its way out, your hands gripping the fabric of his sweater as if that would somehow ground you. You wanted to hate yourself for crying over something so petty. He was saving lives. He was exhausted. He didn’t mean to hurt you.

But it hurt.

You needed to go home. You needed to collect yourself before the ugly thoughts swallowed you whole. You stood up, tears streaming down your face, as the weight of it all seemed too much to bear. You didn’t want to sit here anymore. You didn’t want to wait. You needed to go home, to clear your head, to get away from the overwhelming sense of inadequacy.

You sniffled, grabbing your keys and heading out. The highway would be the fastest route home—less traffic, a straight shot. You rerouted, pressing your foot on the accelerator, trying to breathe through the tightness in your chest. You wiped at your tears quickly, trying to focus on the road.

The road stretched out before you, a wide expanse of concrete and asphalt that felt like it would swallow you whole. The tears wouldn’t stop, and you wiped them away, trying to steady your hands on the wheel, trying to focus on the road ahead. But it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that you understood, that you were rational about his work. The reality of it, the empty seat next to you, the disappointment of seeing Zayne happy in a photo with someone else, it all felt too much.

And then—

Headlights. Too close. Too fast.

A car jumped the signal, trying to merge into the highway.

You slammed the breaks, the scream of tires against pavement rang in your ears.

The impact was instant. A violent, sickening jolt that sent your body forward, the seatbelt snapping against your chest, the airbag exploding in front of you. The windshield cracked, splintering into a spiderweb of broken glass. Your vision blurred, the world spinning.

Pain.

Your chest burned, lungs straining to catch a breath. Your limbs felt heavy. You reached for the seatbelt, your fingers fumbling, but it was jammed.

Fuck.

Your head lulled forward, resting against the deflated airbag. Your head was heavy, your thoughts slipping away like sand through your fingers. The distant wail of sirens reached your ears, but they felt so far away.

Your vision swam, the edges darkening.

I hope the other person is alright.

The thought barely had time to settle before everything faded into black.

ZAYNE'S POV

The fluorescent lights of the hospital buzzed faintly, casting an artificial glow over the chaos of the emergency room. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic and the undercurrent of blood—familiar, almost routine, yet tonight it gnawed at Zayne's nerves in a way he couldn't quite shake. He hadn’t left since he stepped through those doors, yet somehow, the guilt weighing on him had nothing to do with the lives he saved today. It was you.

He was tired. God, was he tired. His body screamed for rest, his temples throbbed from the strain of back-to-back shifts, but the hospital was understaffed, and there was no room for exhaustion when lives were at stake. As a cardiologist, his expertise lay in the intricate mechanics of the human heart, but duty demanded flexibility—especially in the ER. Cardiologists weren’t meant to be dealing with blunt force trauma and lacerations, but tonight, none of that mattered. They needed doctors. He was a doctor. So, he worked.

Even through the fatigue, his mind kept drifting back to you. He could still hear your voice from the call earlier, soft and understanding despite the disappointment laced beneath it. You didn’t deserve this. You had every right to be upset, to be frustrated that he had broken his promise, yet you didn’t even complain. That hurt more than if you had yelled at him

God, he loved you. And he hated himself for testing that patience again and again.

His hand tightened around the pen he was holding. He had plans—plans to make it up to you. The necklace in his office drawer, nestled in a velvet box, had been meant for tonight. Something small, perhaps, compared to everything you did, but a token of his devotion nonetheless. He could still salvage this. Maybe he could call you later, ask if you were still awake—

His device beeped, pulling him back to the present.

MVA on the highway. ETA: 5 minutes.

Multi-vehicle accident. Paramedics on site, victims en route.

Zayne exhaled sharply, shifting into work mode. He stepped into the ER just as the first stretcher was wheeled in. The radio chatter from their comms filled the space.

"Female, mid-to-late twenties, restrained driver, T-bone collision from a vehicle that ran a red light. Airbag deployment, but impact trauma to the chest from seatbelt. BP slightly low, likely from pain response. Tachycardic at 112. GCS is 14. Possible wrist fracture, mild concussion. No signs of internal bleeding from the ultrasound, but needs further imaging to rule out any complications."

He nodded briskly, slipping into the detached, clinical efficiency that had been drilled into him for years. It was only as he stepped forward, pulling the curtain aside, that his breath caught in his throat.

His world stopped.

There, on the hospital bed, was you.

Lying on the hospital bed, your hair disheveled, your skin pale against the stark white sheets. His breath lodged in his throat, the world narrowing to a pinpoint focus on the rise and fall of your chest. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. There was dried blood at your temple, your lower lip swollen where you must have bitten down upon impact. The sight of the IV line in your arm, the faint bruises forming along your collarbone—he couldn’t breathe.

No. No. No. No. No.

"Dr. Zayne…" Yvonne’s voice cut in, sharp and urgent. A warning. He was frozen. This wasn't just a patient. This was you.

He blinked, his hands suddenly trembling as he reached for his gloves. Breathe. He had to focus. Had to push past the sheer, gut-wrenching fear threatening to paralyze him.

This is her. She was waiting for me. She—

"Dr. Zayne!!" Yvonne pressed, handing him the updated chart. "She needs you."

That snapped him out of it.

The moment his hands touched you, they were steady again. His voice was even as he examined you, the motions automatic, controlled. He checked your pupils, gently palpated your ribs to assess for fractures. He was a doctor. He was your doctor right now. He had to move. Focusing, he reached for his stethoscope, pressing it against your chest to listen for abnormalities. The rhythm of your heart was steady, but your breathing was just slightly labored—likely from the seatbelt trauma.

"You’re going to be fine." he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

You were stable.

"Her left shoulder—check for AC joint separation," he murmured, voice steadier than he felt. "Get a CT to rule out any internal injuries. And…" He swallowed. “Get me images from the crash site.” He needed to see how bad the collison was. He had to.

The hours blurred. He monitored your scans, adjusted your IV, checked your vitals more times than necessary. Each time his eyes drifted to you; his chest ached. He had seen the accident reports—your car, your windshield shattered, the crumpled hood. And the contents scattered across the scene…

You had planned everything.

For him.

And he wasn’t there.

Zayne clenched his jaw. Flowers were scattered, crushed against the upholstery. The pastries you must have picked out for him were ruined; their boxes torn open from the force of the crash. And gifts. There were so many gifts. He hadn’t even known you had planned all this.

He felt like he was going to be sick.

You had so much waiting for him. And where had he been? At a hole-in-the-wall restaurant, eating with Lina because she forced him to take a break. He had been smiling in that photo while you were—

God.

He ran a hand down his face, exhaling shakily as he sat by your bedside. He should have been with you. If he had just—

The monitor beeped steadily, a quiet reminder that you were alive.

Now, he sat beside you, watching the slow rise and fall of your chest, fingers curled into his palms to keep them from shaking.

"Wake up, sweetheart." he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just wake up."

And for once, Zayne—brilliant, composed, always in control—felt utterly powerless.

The beep of the heart monitor was steady, rhythmic, but Zayne found himself gripping the edge of his chair every time you stirred, waiting for that moment when your eyes would finally open. His body was stiff from staying in the same position for hours, but he didn’t dare move. He didn’t want to miss it.

Then, a small shift in your breathing. A twitch of your fingers.

Zayne leaned forward just as your lashes fluttered, your eyes cracking open, only to squeeze shut again at the harsh fluorescent lights. You groaned softly, shifting against the sheets. Instinctively, you tried to sit up.

"Hey—stay put," Zayne said immediately, pressing a hand against your shoulder to keep you down. His touch was gentle but firm, his fingers warm even against the hospital gown. "Don’t move too much yet."

Your body resisted for a moment, muscles tensing as if you wanted to argue, but the disorientation dulled your fight. Your gaze finally settled on him, hazy with the remnants of sleep and confusion.

Then you frowned.

“…You look tired,” you murmured, your voice soft, still groggy. “How long have you been here?”

Zayne’s heart clenched so tightly it hurt. Even now, even when you were the one lying in a hospital bed, barely recovered from an accident, your first thoughts were about him.

His throat felt tight, but he exhaled sharply, forcing himself to speak. “You should look at yourself first, sweetheart.”

Your gaze flickered down, taking in the IV in your arm, the bruises along your wrist, the faint soreness that no doubt ached across your body. Zayne exhaled sharply and reached out, his fingertips tracing the side of your face before cupping your cheek fully. His thumb brushed lightly against your skin, as if grounding himself with the warmth of you. His eyes were moist, though no tears fell.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low, raw in a way that stripped away every layer of his usual composure.

You parted your lips, breath hitching as if you were about to reassure him—to do what you always did, to let him off the hook, to tell him it wasn’t his fault.

But he didn’t let you.

“No,” he cut in firmly, shaking his head. “Not this time. This is the one time you shouldn’t be so understanding.” His jaw clenched, something bitter twisting in his expression. “I should have been there. We should have been celebrating our relationship. End of discussion.”

Silence settled between you.

After a beat, he exhaled, running a hand through his hair before looking at you again. “Why didn’t you demand my time?” His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret. “You had every right to.”

You hesitated, glancing away. “…I didn’t want to bother you.” Your fingers twisted into the hospital blanket, grip tightening slightly. “You’re important, Zayne. You save lives. I didn’t want to pull you away from that.”

Something in him snapped.

He let out a sharp breath, then reached for your hand, gently prying your fingers from the blanket. His grip was warm, grounding.

“Shh… And you think you’re not?” he murmured, shaking his head. “Don’t ever say that again.” His gaze bore into yours, unwavering. “You are important to me.”

"You’re important to me," he repeated, voice steady but almost desperate. "Just like my work makes demands of me, you are more than entitled to make demands of me, too."

Your eyes searched his, uncertainty flickering beneath the lingering haze of exhaustion. But Zayne’s gaze didn’t waver.

"I know I should have been there," he said again, quieter this time. He hesitated for only a fraction of a second before brushing a thumb over the edge of your jaw, tilting your face slightly. “When I saw you on this bed when I entered the ER… pale, unconscious… I haven’t felt fear like that before," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Not in all my years of doing this. Not like that."

You didn’t say anything, but your hand came up slowly, resting over his.

He closed his eyes briefly, exhaling.

This—this was what he almost lost.

His jaw clenched, then loosened as he exhaled. “I don’t want to ever feel it again.”

Another pause.

Zayne inhaled deeply, steadying himself. His hand still cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against your skin, as if reassuring himself that you were still here. That you were warm. That he hadn’t lost you.

“I know I say I’m sorry a lot… and it probably has lost meaning to you.” he murmured; his voice rough with emotion. His lips pressed into a thin line, as if struggling to put his feelings into something more tangible. “I should have been there. And I will be. Every step of the way until you’re fully recovered and after....”

His eyes flickered downward, scanning you like the doctor he was, but this was different. This wasn’t just clinical analysis—this was personal. "You got lucky," he admitted, exhaling through his nose. "Blunt force trauma to the ribs, a mild concussion, and a broken wrist. Some lacerations on your arm and leg, but nothing deep enough to require surgical intervention. The worst was the head trauma, but the scans came back clear. No bleeding, no swelling. That’s the only reason I’m not having a complete breakdown right now…" His fingers ghosted over your arm, careful not to apply pressure. "Nothing life-threatening or with lasting consequences. But still… you shouldn’t have had to go through that alone." His jaw tensed. "Not when you have me."

You gave him a small, tired smile at that, and something inside him twisted.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to reach into his pocket, his fingers closing around the small velvet box. He’d gone to his office to clock off for the day to be beside you when he picked it up from his drawer. The very box he wanted to give you today. The one that was supposed to be given in a far more joyful setting. This was supposed to be today. A night spent celebrating the two of you—not this. Not hospital beds and IV drips and the hollow fear that had nearly swallowed him whole.

But none of that mattered now.

What mattered was that you were here. And this… this was still yours.

His throat felt thick as he flipped it open, revealing the necklace inside—a delicate silver chain holding a white jasmine pendant, smooth and polished, its petals carved with intricate detail. And behind it, barely visible, were his initials.

His fingers trembled just slightly as he took it out.

"I was supposed to give this to you today," he admitted, voice lower now, almost guilty. "Before all of this. Before I let my own priorities get in the way of what really mattered." He glanced up at you, and for the first time in a long time, he looked vulnerable. "I don’t want you to ever think that you come second. Because you don’t. You never have."

Gently, he reached around your neck, his touch featherlight as he fastened the clasp. The cool metal of the pendant settled just above your collarbone, resting against your skin. His fingertips lingered there, just briefly.

Then he let out a slow breath, tilting your chin up just slightly with his knuckles. His mind still reeled with everything that had happened, with everything he should have done differently.

"I love you," he said, and this time there was no hesitation, no wry smirk to mask his emotions, no half-hearted deflection. Just honesty, raw and unguarded. "Even when I do a crappy job at showing it." He didn’t need you to say it back—he just needed you to know.

For a moment, silence stretched between you. Then, his lips quirked, just slightly, into something softer. "And since I’m apparently on mandatory bedside duty, I hope you’re ready to be completely spoiled. I’m talking fresh coffee, extra pillows, a ridiculous number of medical advices—"

A small, breathy laugh escaped you, and Zayne felt something in his chest loosen at the sound. Then, slowly, you lifted a hand, brushing your fingertips over the pendant before reaching up to cup his cheek.

Zayne leaned into your touch instinctively, exhaling softly. He smiled, finally, pressing his forehead lightly against yours. "Yeah," he murmured. "We’ll be just fine. I've got you sweetheart... I'll always be here for you."

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

Rafayel version | Zayne version | Sylus version

Taglist: @cordidy, @natimiles @leighsartworks216 @notisekais @raining4food @fallthelong @pomegranatepip @juliuscaesarsstabbedback @krystallevine @lemurianmaster @nenggie @loverindeepspace @sinsodom

##TOO FAR, AND NOW THE TRUST IS GONE.

↪ft. Kaiser

Arguements are normal in relationships. But when he gets way too heated to the point of hurting you—to the point where one could say they went too far, how does he act?

It's been how many minutes since the arguement had started, maybe you had spent a hundred minutes shouting at the top of your lungs, a few couple tears shed in the proccess. But no matter how long, it was clear that neither sides had plans to step down. The original topic by now, was long forgotten as harmful insults directed to one's insecurities were thrown haphzardly; carelessly reloading and shooting the bullet all over the place, desperate to hurt the other person even if only a little. Neither backs off, eager to clear their name, even if it meant harming the other's ego. And amidst the chaos that you and your dereast lover found yourselves in; Kaiser raises his arm, and he swings it—far enough to reach your cheeks and hurt it just enough.

Slap!

The sound resounds throughout the living room, and it grows deathly silent— the kind of silence where only the ragged breathing from the hours of shouting could be heard. A second, and then a minute passes, you cradle your now reddish cheek with tremblig hands as you shakily look up at Kaiser. And there, on his face, laid a fury that boiled his head and turned him to be someone unrecognizable. It hurts, you think ,thrice as much knowing that the look of fury, was directed at you.

The first of teardrops spills from your eyes and wets the ground underneath. The liquid clouds your vision, and you think you're partly greatful for it. Because then, you wouldn't have to see the way he looks at you with anger like no other. You look down, trying to calm down your shallow breaths, and as a result, you don't notice the way Kaiser looks the moment he clears his head atleast a little bit.

The feeling of his hand hitting something—or in this case, someone, is still apparent on his hand. He takes a few deep breaths, taking the chance to calm down and clear his head now that the quiet had arrived. From then on, he finally registers the way his hand is numb, and the small, yet not completely silent sobbing he hears from infront of him.

A horrified look takes form on his face when he finally puts the two and two together.

Oh, oh my god.

"I—mein schatz—I-I'm sorry" he stutters, stepping forward to come closer, but he freezes in place when he sees you flinch and cower away.

His heart shatters when he sees how you react, the trust you've placed in him just hours ago now all but gone as he went and did what he promised he won't.

Shit, he inwardly curses. He's really done it now hasn't he?

He kneels, down on his knees as he hugs your legs. "Mein schatz I'm sorry I-I don't know what came over me. M' sorry love please please forgive me" he pleads, begging for forgiveness, and it's funny. How easily he's doing the one thing he thought was an impossible task just hours ago. He would have done this earlier had he known this'd be the outcome of his stubborness.

Kaiser trembles—the first in years as he fears the growing possibility of you leaving him. His apologies are rushed and messy, but sincere nonetheless. Kaiser kneels, begging for forgiveness like a sinner who's done the most heinous crime—and maybe it isn't inacurrate. Because to have the nerve to actually hurt you, the one sent by the gods solely for him, was a crime punishable by death.

Kaiser pleads for forgiveness, but he doesn't expect you to accept them. Only that you'd stop your cries that he himself had caused. Because he thinks—firmly believes that you shouldn't waste your tears for sinners like him; for someone like him.

It's unreal, how easily he's forgotten his ego when it comes to you. But he thinks it's perfectly valid. Because while he is the king, you are the angel he seeks comfort and power of, the one whom he takes his strength from. And now, because of his painfully human parts, he's gone and hurt the one person he's held dear.

Kaiser begs for you to stop crying, to do nothing but rest as he picks up the broken shards of trust, to stay with him—as greedy as that might be—as he clumsily tries to put it all back together. You needn't waste your tears, nor should you trouble yourself with trying to put it all back, because he'll do it himself, for it was him that broke it—and thus, it should be him that fixes it too.

↪ooc?? Yea i think, huhahahahahah

hello hello! may i request how jun would react to receiving news that his s/o fainted because they weren't taking care of themselves due to exams being round the corner and they ended up neglecting their health :D tq in advance for accepting this and have a great day ahead 🫶

hiii anon thank u for this request !!! schoolwork can be So stressful so please remember to take care of yourself too ♡ i'm starting school again in september and i am Not looking forward to the workload again ... anyways, i hope you enjoy! ♡

❧ jun's partner fainting due to overworking

content warnings: none

❧ it starts off like this: a tense, quiet shock, then the slowly-dawning moment of realisation. a pause, a soft, surprised, "huh?" and before you know it, jun has all but dropped what he was doing to run — both figuratively and literally — to your side. it doesn't matter to him if you're just across the street or halfway across town.

❧ the entire time, he's basically got a whole spiel planned: what did you think you were doing, working yourself to the bone? but as soon as he comes face to face with you, and the bags under your eyes, and your sheepish little, "hi, jun," any anger he might've had fizzles away into relief and tired concern. he'll still nag you a fair bit, though — a gentle tug on your ear and a, "you worried me, y'know."

❧ though jun isn't exactly the doting type, he'll definitely look after you in his own way. maybe you'll catch him arranging your notes for you, keeping you company and bringing you a drink during study sessions, reminding you to go to bed before it gets too late — or even carrying you to bed if you fall asleep at your desk.

❧ even when he can't be there for you in person, jun tries to check in on you throughout the day, either way. it's not uncommon for him to text you when he's on break: little things like, "have you eaten lunch yet?" or "it's getting late, you should get some rest." he'll tease you for being troublesome — you're gonna give me white hairs early at this rate... — but he always smiles at you so softly, speaks to you so gently, brushes back your bangs and kisses your forehead so sweetly.

w..well why do u think i reblog and interact with ur posts all the time ... 🫶

THE WAY THAT ALL OF MY FAV WRITERS CELEBRATED THEIR BIRTHDAYS THIS AUGUST ?!? OMGSOOMG

HI YIN!!!!! WE HAVE THE SAME NAME twinzies??? 🤔🤔🤔 i absolutely love with your rinne fanfic IT HAD ME ON THE EDGE OF MY SEAT!

can i please pleaasee request a scenario where fem!reader is very upset because she feels like shes not up to her own expectations n rinne comes in makes stupid rinne comment, reader snaps thinkifn rinne could never understand since he was born smart n it ends in rinne comforting her YEA THE REST ILL LEAVE IT UP TO YOU!

im so excited to see how u write this if u decide too HAPPYY WRITING!!!!! 🫶🫶🫶🫶

Doesn’t Always Mean You’re Dumb

character: Rinne

Reader: female

Genre: angst, comfort.

Words: 1944

Warning: OOC, broken grammar, not read proofed

A/N: WAH THANK YOU? And OMGG we have the same name!! You can call me with a second name if you want! And thank you very much for requesting also liking my Rinne fics!😭💕 I’m sorry for the late post, I’ve been busy and only just got my freedom around three or four days ago and created 4 attempts on this to choose which one I want to present to you.

Come by often as a reader or as someone you want to talk with!! Hope you’ll enjoy this and have a nice day💕

Everyone around her age achieved so much, only she couldn’t or didn’t have anything to accomplish. The only thing she was capable of was smiling, entertain the elders of her family and coat her words with sweet nothing. (Name) could only watch her siblings reach higher than her, achieving outstanding results whilst (Name) sat by the chair confiding in the gossip of the elders.

And only of that, she’s considered—dumb. After all, what’s the point in being smart and a high achiever if in the end, she’d only stand behind the kitchen counter and serve her husband?—her elders spoke the same to her ears everywhere she went.

That alone wasn’t enough.

——

Walking into the apartment, the girl’s mask tore off—she inhaled sharply, feeling like sharp arrows aimed at her chest whenever she exhaled. She placed away her shoes then walked straight to her bedroom, finding the mess of her bed covered in dirty laundries she hadn’t done.

Though work was still stacking on the other side of her room, the computer calling her to work for another hour, she was left in dilemma whether or not she should choose to finish the undone chores or the work stacking on her desk.

Today was stressful, wasn't it?

The second she placed her bag, a ding from her phone echoed in her ears. (Name) searched through her bag full of documents she planned to get done tonight, her hands scurried through to find the device.

As she finally had her phone, the stoic e/c eyes paid no mind towards the name and just placed the item next to her head. A raspy dried voice that hadn’t drunk anything, spoke, “(Name) speaking. Who’s this?”

“Take a guess,” a familiar voice said, a smile audible to her ears playing along with the words. The h/c haired girl took a second to look at her phone, then back to continue her call.

To be honest, she didn’t need to look at the caller, just his voice alone was enough for her to guess who it may be. Her cheeks itched to be lifted up, to add just a tiny bit to her e/c irises, and so she obeyed her body’s will and came to smile even if the caller couldn’t possibly paint her face.

“Hey, Rinne.”

“Hm, your voice becomes softer than before! Kyahahaha, did you miss me?”

Ah, there he went, his signature laugh. Albeit having her pissed, it relieved her to know by his laugh—the tensed body soothed out on its own with a gentle smile to caress her face. “And if I tell you I don’t?”

“Too bad I won’t believe you,” Rinne spoke, from the other side of the phone, causing her to let out a tender chuckle, finally one after the whole day spending her time contemplating on things she never needed to.

“Hey, (Name). How was your day?”

How was her day?

She spent a few hours trying to hold back cursing at her elders, smiling and sat on the chair humbly whilst the elders boasted of their descendants’ achievements. Everyone always spoke as if (Name) wouldn’t understand, when in fact she heard everything but could only smile and nodded.

To think that the word, “it’s great” no longer felt like deceiving someone else just for their sake was the best choice—added with the exhaustion to even keep herself composed as she tried to prove her words—(Name) couldn’t bring herself to do it.

“It… wasn’t the best. It’s okay though, don’t worry. How about yours?” She quickly switched. “Not bad actually. Just feeling like I’m missing something.”

“What that might be? Your gambling habit?”

“Nah, that’s not it. After all, I have her with me right now.”

An exhausted yet hearty laugh broke out of her lips, a bit louder than she intended but to the others, the laugh was just a whisper from a child not being able to speak for the whole day. “So that’s why you came and called me?”

“Hahahahah! Aren’t you supposed to be glad you have me? Anyways, let’s hear from you. What’s up today?”

“What do you mean, what’s up?”

Rinne let out a laugh, just short—nothing exaggerated, “You said your day wasn’t the best. What happened?”

(Name)’s e/c irises gazed down to the floor, her back slid to the ground as she ran her hand through her hair. An attempt to smile tried to paint her face, only for her to feel the heaviness weighing her down. “I’m an idiot,” she stated, though she was sure it was as if the wind entered in her room and brought her remaining courage to speak, away.

“What?”

“I’m an idiot,” she spoke again, hoping it was audible enough to the other side whilst she was there—playing the hem of her clothes, trying to keep herself distracted from the heaviness weighing her chest.

The warm sensation swarming her eyes fought its war. “Every time I look around me, people are smiling at me but they always treat me like I’m a fool. It’s not about my day. I don’t think you would want to hear it.”

She expected nothing out of him, she didn’t expect for him to laugh, shake it off, nor gave her comfort—a daughter and a woman like her wouldn’t need any of that. If she was indeed useless as how people said her to be, then what’s the point in comforting her?

Instead, the least expected for the words she hated to hear: “Hahaha! Yeah, so?”

That.

Couldn't that be the reason she considered hanging up the phone call right?

So? What did he mean, so?

“…” her voice lost its words—she was far too exhausted to think about it. “I’m… busy and tired—“ (Name) stopped her trails of words, slowly realizing the venom stirring her words unconsciously, though she didn’t mean to.

“(Name)? What I was trying to say was—for what must you think about those? It’s not like they mean a thing to you—“

“What do you know anyway what means to me and what doesn’t?”

As soon as she said those words, silence filled them in. None dared to speak—though words were swirling in her head, begging her to let it out, she couldn’t bring herself to utter another. The heaviness of her phone weighed itself more.

She was expected of a daughter, if could not be the one everyone desired her to be, the least she could do was to smile and sit down. He was much of a contrast to her—the striking ocean eyes would always glaze themselves on the world without having to look down, his chest raised up like his dignity where no one could step on him, his words always match with his ways that she would believe every word he spoke.

He was born that way—a perfect human being.

“(Name), I didn’t mean it like tha—“

“I have to go now. My superior is calling me.” And just like that, she turned off her phone and threw it to her bed, leaving her frame alone in the corner of her room, to leave her mull over the words she said.

Ah, even in the brink of heat, she couldn’t be any more smart.

———

An hour had passed, she gazed at the analog next to her hands as she scrolled on her computer. The sound of keyboards clicking was enough to be audible, the weight on her shoulder increased more as time passed by.

“Eleven o’clock,” her lips drew out, unconsciously breathing out.

Ding!

Her phone rang. Wanted or not her attention turned over to the phone showing the caller’s name written clear on the screen. A sigh ran through her lips again, the desire to hang up and go back to her work was as strong as the urge to pick up.

However, the words still left her annoyed. Maybe it was actually her fault, that she should’ve apologized first, and that he didn’t actually mean a thing and she was the one who just took things too seriously—

“Hey. Why are you calling this late, Rinne?”

“Come out. I’m waiting at the playground in your apartment. And no buts.”

Waiting for her outside? She turned to look at the window, seeing the sky painted itself with a deep void of black adorned with the least amount of stars. As she reached for the window, a fog formed by the slightest touch.

(Name) checked on her phone, seeing the temperature outside. “It’s late. Go home or you’ll catch a cold.”

“Well I guess you have to come for me to go home. Be quick, it’s hella freezing outside.”

“Wha—hey!”

The dial tone echoed in her ears instead of his further affirmation voice, signaling he’d ended the call and left her with no choice but to obey his command. Had he lost his mind?

***

Walking down the cold playground, a fog formed whenever she let out a sigh upon casting her eyes onto the waiting red haired male. Heaviness lingered her heart either way, not knowing nor caring what brought him here to her. What did he want to say?

An extra jacket on her hand lingered there, stopping her from leaving and returning to her room. She knew he would come, with nothing to keep him warm other than his casual clothing—it had become a habit to bring in a jacket for his every visit.

The red haired man peeked from the side of his eyes, having the moonlight bathe his own ocean ones. “Hey, so you’re finally here! I thought you wouldn’t come downstairs for a sec there,” he exclaimed, ending it with a laughter.

(Name), however, only walked closer to him and threw the jacket. “You’ll catch a cold. Stop running here without anything to keep you warm at night,” she scolded, only to earn a grin from him as he replied, “Cause I know you’ll keep me warm.”

Unfazed, she let out a sigh for another time whilst making her way towards the smiling Rinne. “Why did you call me here? It’s late and I have to sleep early.”

“I just want to see you, can’t I do that?” He asked, sounding more to be a demand as if what the world has is what he’s owed with. The usual mischief adorned the same eyes that tonight, (Name) couldn’t bear to admire.

She pursed her lips, refused to say another word. “I’m… sorry,” he spoke out of the blue, attaining her attention. For instance, no one had ever apologized to her for the words and things they did, since she “wasn’t” capable of understanding the ways of their actions.

The girl could only stay silent. “What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t mind their words and start learning how to be yourself. If anything, they’re dumb since they don’t get you at all. They’re too ‘normal’ to the point that seeing something new and fresh tears them down.”

Ah, she wondered what had she done to deserve this.

Seeing the silence from her, no words uttered out from her lips, Rinne could only sigh. He raised his hand, a little bit reluctant, but still did—gently, hoping it might convey the things he wished to say, and brought her to him.

That alone brought her to surprise, but she couldn’t dare to go against his will. And just like that, she could only bask in deeper for his warmth during the cold night—enough to resemble the coldness that was borne by the daughter herself. “You don’t have to change to meet their standards. Let the elders be as they’d always been, they’ll never change so just focus on yourself.”

Ah, how much she yearned to hear those.

A stupidity was never a stupidity. It was just a way of a human living that others deemed to be not normal to their understanding.

“You’re awesome as you are, so don’t let those words eat you.”

SWEET LIKE HONEY. nagi seishiro x f!reader, 0.6k. same universe as sweet like candy

“don’t you think you should get a haircut soon?” soft strands of white hair fell from your fingers and landed on your boyfriend's forehead. 

you ran your fingers through his hair, giggling as he leaned into your touch — he really was like a cat. reo had told you about his ‘nagi being a human-cat hybrid’ conspiracy theory. you were starting to think he was right. seishiro, living his best life with his head in your lap, looked like he could fall asleep any second. it wasn’t often he felt this amount of relaxation, he could have purred when your fingertips danced on his scalp, leaning into your movement. 

“‘t’s too much work,” he answered, closing his eyes. 

you hummed, holding a few of the long strands up. if he didn’t get his bangs cut soon, he wouldn't be able to see, “can i cut it for you?”

seishiro opened his eyes, gazing up at you with tired and soft eyes. his eyebrows furrowed, “do you even know how to use scissors?” 

you rolled your eyes at his teasing, tugging softly on his hair as a petty revenge, “yes, seishiro, i know how to use scissors,” 

the ghost of a smile grazed his lips before he forced himself off your lap (truly one of the hardest things he ever had to do), “you can cut my hair,” he paused, blinking slowly, “don’t make me bald,”

you huffed, “i’m not gonna make you bald, just give you a small trim,” you pulled him to the bathroom, sitting him on the toilet. 

he plopped down, watching you fuzz around the bathroom looking for hair scissors and a comb. a small smile made its way to his face; you looked so cute. your fingers tilted his chin upwards, assessing the issue, “you have so much hair, sei,”

your boyfriend hummed with his eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of your fingers on his face and in his hair. he let you move his head around, sending a quick and silent prayer that you knew what you were doing. 

you flicked his forehead, “i can tell what you’re thinking, dummy. i know what i’m during,” combing through his hair you muttered a ‘somewhat’ under your breath. 

seishiro pursed his lips, hopefully you were just teasing him. he closed his eyes when you made his hair wet and combed through it. 

“your hair’s so long, sei,” he hummed in response, letting you do your thing.

white hair fell to the floor as you trimmed his hair, focusing on his bangs. you found it adorable how seishiro was compliant to your touch and let you move his head around as you pleased. he was always putty in your hands, always letting you guide his body however you wanted. 

“there, done,” you placed a kiss on his now exposed nose bridge. his eyes fluttered open to meet your sweet face with a sweet smile. you pulled him to his feet and made him face the mirror. so you did know what you were during. his hair was messy from you blow drying it, making it look extra fluffy. 

it looked as it did before, just shorter, “you did know what you were during,” he hummed, running a hand through it.

“i told you!”

he turned to face you and laid his head on your shoulder, “can we go back to bed now? that was too much work,” 

you pulled on on a few strands of his hair, “you didn’t do anything, sei,”

“too much work,” he sighed, placing a soft kiss on your neck, “back to bed?”

itoshi rin pro player hc because hes so !!!!

rin who always tries to enter silently to your house, afraid he'll wake you up because he'll be dammed if you ruin your sleep schedule because of him

rin who, contrary to popular belief, actually sorta enjoys pda. he likes showing off to the world that you're his partner, so if hes feeling jealous, he'll have no problem kissing you in front of an inane amount of paparazzi

rin who got you a hedgehog pet and now its your guys's son. his name is sonic.

rin who texts sae just to ask "when r you gonna get bitches lmao"

rin who has gotten so used to sleeping next to you that when he's away for a match he oats on the mattress and is dissappointed when your not there.

rin who refuses to let you pay. you're on a date and every time you try to split the bill he says "no."

rin who really enjoys being the little spoon for no reason at all.

rin who falls asleep watching any movie that isn't horror.

rin who takes an obnoxiously long time getting ready for a date.

rin who wants to propose but has no idea how to.

rin who has an abnormal alcohol resistance. this guy can drink 3 entire bottles of wine and not get drunk at ALL.

rin who rlly likes carrying you in bridal style.

rin whose favourite chore is washing the dishes.

rin who puts on his alarm 5 minutes earlier some times because he sometimes stares at you while you sleep, thinking you look pretty.

rin who gets WAY too invested in soap operas

rin who cooks every weekend

rin who likes playing with your hair

rin who adores hugging you from behind while you're washing the dishes

rin who just really loves you and wants to propose so bad but hes too nervous to do so. he'll get there one day 😔

rin who puts his fork into your plate and steals some of your food, without any shame.

rin who walks around the house shirtless. when you questioned him about it, he had no answer other than a shrug.

rin who is SO!(#^>#&@&#

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

bye

-🕺anon

i'm literally petitioning for you to write my fics for me. this is not a joke.

mao so bitter thsi is why y/n never looks your way /j 🥱

¡! ❝ REDAMANCY .. ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ [16] ur excused 👹👹 ❞ | m. list | prev. | next

natsume sakasaki x reader smau

warning(s) : cussing,

╰┈➤ synopsis  ❝after yumenosaki academy resident magician and eccentric sakasaki natsume asks you to “go out with him”, you immediately shut him down. so why is he dedicating a song to you at a switch concert? and why are people whispering about you being the cutest couple?❞

ੈ✩₊˚TAGLIST : @miihai @shionszz @ikasaeki @zephestia @1072v @drihihihi @homonatsume @lialibrary @hugs4shizu @mikctp @emikoisdead @ara-arashi @disa-ster @tjjjrsj @solemn-soliloquy @bxkugzo @buns-inhiding @calxrein @gxwesn // ask/comment to be added/removed! (if you’re in bold i can’t tag you)

he has grown attached too much he failed to imagine playing sports alone (when in fact he’s done that before football)

you just know he really wants genuine connection with people beyond his social status.  （πーπ）

¡! ❝ REDAMANCY .. ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ [11] code rose gold ❞ | m. list | prev. | next

natsume sakasaki x reader smau

warning(s) : cussing, affectionate bullying, “bbygirl” & “girl queen pussy boss” used one (1) time

you were at your wits end.

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