"I Can Fix Him" Not In A "I Can Make Him Into A Better Person" Way But In A "if He Was My Character I

If His Eyes Weren't Fooling Around.

Character: Rei Sakuma

Words: 998

Type: Fluff

Gender: Female

Synopsis: During his walk around the park with his beloved to explore with, he found himself to gaze at the view, relishing every thing he saw before he came to propose and got down on one knee.

If his eyes weren't fooling around, the resplendent moonlight shone its glow, it beamed ever so brightly as it turned into the full moon. Walking on each grass felt like the world breathed, colours of green nourished the path. And as if the person before him was Peresphone, flowers seemed to blossom but none of them outshone them.

If his eyes weren't fooling around, he heard the light humming as if it's a lullaby. Her eyes glinted like the diamonds, blessed with bliss. Her fingertips gracefully touched the flowers randomly, it was all magical. Everything about this was magical.

Fleeting touches of theirs against the petals, the diamond e/c eyes gazing at the view with fondness in her eyes.

If his eyes weren't fooling, with this, he became Hades. Not with the desire to kidnap her and make her stay, but the desire to make her his queen, shower her with everything he had.

And if his eyes were fooling around, the e/c eyes glanced up, gazing at the young man's blooming red eyes. Admiration was all he saw within her, his fingers itched to grab a hold of her cheeks, soothing it gently一

"Hey, why are you staring? Do you like the view?"

If his eyes weren't fooling around, she was like the dove一gentle, graceful, and somewhere beaming under the sun. "Ah, no. I'm just amazed with the view the world's offered. If the lady wishes, shall we take a deeper stroll in the garden?"

"But it's late at night. Don't you think we should head back and rest?"

With his vampire like antics, he felt restless. Especially if he were to stand next to the h/c haired lady. "If you desire rest, then let's head back. But the night is still young."

She walked closer to him, fingertips grazed gently on his cheeks' skin. If his eyes weren't fooling, a glint of mischief stirred with tenderness. He swore his cheeks were hurting from the smile, however with this single touch of hers一he couldn't help but smile a bit wider.

"I see, the lady wishes to fool around."

She only let out a giggle一soft like angels chanting its lullaby, the world stopped its howling wind to let him cherish the voice. And at there and then, he wanted to grab a hold of her face and bring her close to him, to e gulf her in his warmth.

His finger tips moved on its own, out of his will, grazing against her cheeks as how she did with him一all sweet nothings poured out from his lips the moment he took a turn to take a breath. "You look beautiful tonight."

"Huh, so that means I've never been beautiful?"

He let out a mused chuckle, oh how much he wanted to savour her words, to sugar his ears. "Perhaps I should reprhase my words. You're beautiful, and especially tonight you seem like a Moon Goddess came and play on Earth for a while. And during the day, you resemble spring."

"Goodness, cheesy you are, I see."

She rolled her eyes, smiling uncontrollably as she playfully hit his chest. Her smile couldn't get any wider, if picture could catch the view he'd keep it.

"We've been dating for a while..."

"Yea?" Her laughter died down, regaining her composure by looking up to his ruby eyes once again.

The moonlight shone its glim on the diamond ring, shining brightly between his thumbs. Though, he may not have flowers on his hand, chocolate to share under the starry night.

But he did have his heart ready.

If his eyes weren't fooling around, his fingers that once graced itself upon her cheeks trailed down to where her hands dangled. Lacing them together, his heart somehow skipped another beat. "What do you think about spending one last night together?"

"...Huh? W-what do you mean?"

If his eyes weren't fooling, he gazed at the hollowness slowly took over her eyes, the confusion stirring her face一he certainly didn't like to leave someone hanging, to leave someone confused.

The wind howled another round, a bit more windy than before, blowing past both hairs to the point leaves were broight to be flown away. It blew from the south from his dear lover's side, resulting her to turn her attention to the wind.

"Wait, I think we sgould talk inside. You know to clear our heads and一"

Here's his chance.

He kneeled, taking out the ring with a smile soft as ths a feather, the glint of hope and bliss stirred with anxiety as thoughts started to ravel itself in his head, 'What if it turned out to be the worst? What if she rejected me?'

But the sight of the diamond ring, the moon beamed with its luminosity to reflect the gem, he could never be more proud. "(Name)," he called, sounding like a soft whisper.

If his eyes weren't fooling, the hollow gaze she accidently casted disappeared, replaced with something he couldn't decipher fot his running thoughts blocked his access. Uttering a name was difficult, let alone to say his purpose一a heavy lump weighed his throat, he couldn't speak.

If he were to stop now, backfire now, the fairy in front of him would disappear from his grasp. But he didn't want to have anyone of his palm一he wanted her to be free, for her to decide what she wishes to do.

So if he were to be rejected, it should be fine, shouldn't it? So with breathless voice, with his heart that weren't fooling around, with his eyes to stay true to what's ahead as he gazed deep into the iridescent e/c irises, he gently spoke,

"If the world ends, let me bring you in my arms. When a new life starts, let me be the one to greet you every morning."

If Rei Sakuma didn't fool himself, he spoke with utmost truth:

"Will you marry me?"

"kaiser?" you call from the bathroom, searching the cabinet with an urgency that easily tells him you started getting ready a little too late this morning. "are we out of pimple patches?"

he leans against the doorway, watching you with an easy smile on his face. "yep, i used 'em all."

"what? there were still 5 left when i last checked though?"

"yeah, i'm breaking out," he shrugs. "it's a tragedy."

you whip your head in his direction, a deep frown setting in your brows. "no, you're not, you liar."

"just take a look if you don't believe me."

"where?!" you demand, taking a step closer to approach him. you lean into his face, leaning so close that he can feel your warm breath against his cheek, only to find nothing but perfectly smooth, acne-free skin. you realize too late that it's just another one of his ploys and kaiser quickly turns his head to plant a loud, wet kiss on your cheek.

"haha! gotcha!"

you wipe your face with the back of your hand, clearly unimpressed. "you could've just said you wanted a kiss.”

"and where's the fun in that, darling?"

but kaiser's shenanigans don't stop there. as soon as you have your back to him again, he inches forward to wrap his arms around you, binding you so tightly that you can't even squirm in his hold.

"kaiser, let go," you giggle, your body swaying left to right thanks to his playful maneuvers.

"stop getting ready," he mumbles, now burying his face in the space where your shoulder meets your neck. "don't go. don't leave me."

"i have to," you whine, finally breaking free of his hold and attempting to resume your skincare routine sans pimple patches. kaiser, who doesn’t know what it means to give up, still latches onto you like a leech, this time snaking his arm around your waist so as not to disturb you getting ready.

"where are you even going so early?" he pouts.

you catch his eyes in the mirror. "i literally told you last night."

"i forgot."

"you weren't listening."

"maybe that too."

"typical."

"nah, i'm just joking. you're seeing your mom."

"why do i even put up with you..." you ask yourself, holding back a sigh.

"because you love me. anyway, can i come? i wanna see your mom. she loves me too."

"no, that's exactly why you can't. i'm not gonna spend my saturday morning having breakfast with my mom only to listen to her she gush about you."

"aw, you're scared she loves me more than you?"

"no way, she's my mom," you say immediately, but then you pause, and ponder the possibility for a moment that she does, actually, like kaiser more than you.

kaiser raises his brow with that knowing look on his face. "you sure about that?"

"stop making me doubt my own mother."

"it's okay, if she doesn't love you as much, i can make up for it."

"no, you can't."

"of course i can. the whole world isn’t enough to hold my love for you, darling,” he says, his tone slightly more serious this time. then, he rests his chin on your shoulder, tightening his grip around your waist ever so slightly. “when are you gonna be back?”

“i’ll be back for lunch.” you can’t help but soften when he does, and kaiser breathes in deep, catching the scent of lavender soap on your skin before placing an innocent kiss against your collarbone. “i won’t be too long, mihya, i promise.”

“…fine. i’ll be waiting for you.”

“i know.”

“don’t take too long,” he adds, as if you haven’t already assured him you wouldn’t.

“i won’t,” is all you say, turning your head to kiss his head.

ding!

. . . miya atsumu. late night blues.

contrary to popular belief, atsumu’s social battery is not at all long-lasting.

sure, he was well-known all throughout his school, could hold a conversation to a degree, and is often seen with a lazy smile on his face as he greets his schoolmates and fans alike, but that did not mean that he didn’t get exhausted by maintaining his social quota to a higher level.

and when his social battery is leeched dry, you can immediately tell.

“what’s up, buttercup?” you quietly ask, linking your arm with atsumu’s as you two continue on with your late-night walk together.

it’s the little signs that you notice even amidst the dark surroundings. his nose scrunches ever so slightly, his mouth thins to a small pout, and he unmistakenly goes quiet all of a sudden—no matter what he was talking about prior.

“tired‘s’all,” he answers, a soft sigh emitting from him.

you hum, knowing better than to push it. “wanna head back? i can walk you home.”

“no, no.” atsumu shook his head in reply to your suggestion. “i still wanna stay with ya,” he tells you, finding solace in how the evening wind feels against his face, nearing hyogo’s idle public parks. “humor me for a moment, yeah?”

“shoot,” you snort.

he’s careful with his words.

“d’ya love me?”

“of course,” you answer without even the slightest hint of hesitation. “i love you so, so much, ‘tsum.”

he feels your grip on his hand become firm, yet it still carried that gentleness he knew and love. atsumu visibly relaxes, and a short breath of relief exhales through his mouth.

“what brought this up, hm?”

“dunno,” he answers truthfully. “just wanted ta ask.”

“‘tsumu.”

“y/n.”

“‘tsum.”

“y/n.”

“is that all there is to it?” you ask him once more. “because if something’s bothering you, you know that you can talk to me about it, right?”

“mhm,” he nods. “was a tad bit—well, felt—insecure for a second there.”

another thing was that when atsumu’s social battery ran low, it brought out impulsive thoughts that he thought had never bothered him before. those thoughts that he tried to shrug off with one of his signature quipbacks and whatnot begin to resurface once he feels vulnerable and exhausted.

“well, i love you very, very much, ‘tsum.”

“even if i do corny shit just to gain yer attention?”

“yes.”

“even if i spam your messages once class and practice is over?”

“yes.”

“even if i sometimes sulk about being the lesser twin?”

“miya atsumu,” you say, cupping his cheek. “there is no such thing as being the lesser twin when you and your brother are mentioned in the same light, ok?”

he doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“you are you, and your brother is your brother. you may be identical, but your personality is different, your handwriting is different, and how you perceive things in life is different,” you explain, steady with what you say to get your point across.

“but that doesn’t make you the ‘lesser’ twin just because he’s a bit more levelheaded, y’know?”

atsumu made a small whining sound.

“you’re miya atsumu, and you’re the only you in this world; d’ya get me?” you chuckle, peppering kisses all over his face. “you’re unique because you’re you.”

and your boyfriend practically melts and basks in your attention. reassured, and loved.

just as it should be.

noomon © 2023. do not copy, modify, or translate my work.

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

drew a horribly inaccurate ritsu on the whiteboard but wasn't able to finish it bc the teacher was coming😓

Could I request 6 from the Christmas prompts for Kaoru?

A/N: I would also like to cuddle with Kaoru Hakaze

*ೃ༄ Kaoru Hakaze + 6: “Go to sleep, it’s Christmas soon.”

Oh, how easy it was to lose track of time while cuddling with your boyfriend. The two of you could lie there forever, talking about everything and nothing, close as can be. It was a long day for you both, spending most of your day at a Christmas Eve party packed full. When you’re in a place like Ensemble Square, that was really to be expected. You had fun, but it was nice to leave and relish in the peace and quiet again.

The only light came from the moon outside Kaoru’s window, providing just enough to let you see your boyfriends face. His eyes were shut, a relaxed smile on his face as he stroked lightly up and down your back. God, he really was handsome. You’d check the time if you weren’t so comfortable. For now, you’d just assume it was nearing midnight. You wanted to keep the conversation going, but your own body betrayed you, growing drowsy, words becoming incoherent.

Kaoru chuckled at your plight, shifting and gently pulling you onto his chest, guiding your head to rest in the nape of his neck. He kissed your cheek tenderly, bringing a hand up to lightly scratch at your scalp. “Shh… Go to sleep. It’ll be Christmas soon.” He mumbled, tired himself. You huffed at his words, though you knew he was right. You nuzzled into his warmth, letting your eyelids begin to drift. Truly, there was no place you’d rather be than here, resting in Kaoru’s arms.

Que sera, sera

♡ˋ°•*⁀➷Rin itoshi x reader

Summary: the story which dives in the beginning and the end of you and rin. He doesn't believe in miracles, though he thinks you are one. He's thankful that what will be, will be. And its you and him.

Warnings: none, fluff to angst, angst to fluff. Childhood friends to strangers to lovers. Slow burn, maybe not i dont know. Happy ending.

A/n: GAAAHHHHHH SORRY I WAS SO TIRED I COULDN'T FINISH THIS ON VALENTINES DAY AWWW MANNN. Its also been a long time since i wrote fics so bear with me with this one and it ain't proofread plss.

For the longest time, Itoshi Rin treated you like shit. Muttering how everything about you is lukewarm and how everything you say is nonsense.

You still remember when you two first met in the playground, at that time Sae never left him yet, Rin still having those chubby cheeks as he runs around in the playground, happily dribbling the ball when the ball suddenly hits your knee.

"O-ow!" You groaned in pain, before you burst into tears as your left knee reddens.

The boy at the swing runs towards you, "Are you okay?" He asks you, he looks concerned for you as guilt creeps up as he doesn't know what to do when sees you cry.

You were a sobbing mess on the floor as the aching got worse, Rin kept a distance before grabbing the playground sand and pouring it at your ankle, "sorry…"

The little boy trying to help you up when you two heard footsteps coming closer, Rin panicking as he realizes it's his brother walking towards them.

Rin stares at the ground when Sae scolds him for being too careless, the little boy now crying with you.

"You two should make up before the adults hear about this, Rin you go and get the first-aid kit and candy, I'll watch after them." The red-head yells as Rin bolts to their house. Later coming back with the first-aid kit and candy, watching his older brother do the work and rub medicine on your scraped knee. As the older boy treated your knee, your eyes met the culprit's gaze, he turned away in shame as tiny sobs left his lips from Sae scolding him earlier.

After that incident, you get a scraped knee, some candy and two new friends. Let's just say Rin's parents weren't too happy when they found out what happened.

The next day, Rin rings your doorbell as he asks your parents where you were, calling you downstairs as you excitedly run towards the gate.

"Oh you're back! What's that in your hand?" Younger you asked Rin as he fiddles a tiny bag in his hands; clearly anxious from yesterday.

The boy gulps before taking a deep breath and awkwardly handing you a bag full of chocolates, "I'm sorry for yesterday.."

Rin closes his eyes as he waits for some sort of punishment until he feels you hug him.

"Heh! No worries, these are my favorite chocolates so you're forgiven."

"Really?" His eyes beam in joy.

"Yup! This chocolate tastes good! Where'd ya get it?" You ask while munching away happily.

"My brother actually has a bowl of candy… you can come over and you can eat more chocolate there."

Your lips curled into a smile before you shook his hand, "what's your name again?"

"Rin."

"Awesome! I'm [name] by the way!"

As you sweep the floor, your broom brushes an old polaroid; it was from 18 years ago. You and Rin were cuddling in Sae's bed, not knowing Sae sneaked in a picture.

Smiling at the picture you reminisce again.

It was summer at that time. Luckily Rin's parents weren't home so you two had the whole house to yourselves.

"Mmm!" Stretching your limbs as you two lie on the couch, playing some mario kart while Sae prepares lunch for the three of you.

The aggressive pressing of the controllers and smell of fruits in the kitchen; you can remember it all perfectly.

"I'm gonna beat you, just you wait—! Hey!" Rin yells when you start tickling him and successfully taking the lead, making Rin's character fall off the map.

Rin's demise eliciting a loud giggle from your lips as you beat his ass after a whole hour of trying to one up each other.

Rin is fuming with anger as he complains to Sae, "No fair! You're cheating! Sae don't give her any chocolates! You're a cheater!"

"Bleh! You're just bad!"

Sae groans in annoyance as he prepares the table, "You two get over here and stop fighting or else I won't let you two play."

You two pout and start glaring at each other.

"That's right midget." You tease him before sitting right next to him, grabbing a plate of spaghetti.

"Shut up! I'm gonna be taller than you, just you wait!" Rin sticks his tongue out, teasing you with confidence but Sae gives you two an icy-glare, indicating that you two should just stop fighting.

"Rin, [name]."

"Y-yes!" Both of you stop fighting, at least not In Front of Sae. Hours go by and the night sky settles in.

Plopping in his bed while staring at all his trophies, "damn rin you won all these?"

Rin doesn't reply, fixing the bed sheets before lying next to you; letting out a small hmph.

You sigh, and make him turn around to face you. "Rin. Sorry for earlier."

Rin rolls his eyes, "lukewarm" he mutters under his breath.

After that you two look away and fall asleep. When Sae comes in however, he sees you two cuddling like kittens. Sae smirks to himself before grabbing his phone, taking a picture— close ups even so he can use this as blackmail later on. Let's just say you both did not enjoy waking up in each other's arms; spoiler alert: Rin actually did.

A few years pass by and you two find each other laying on the park, star gazing. These days Rin gets too lonely, his brother moving to Spain to chase after his career.

"S-so… Rin are you okay?"

The boy right next to you stares at the stars, ignoring your voice calling out for him.

Sighing in defeat, knowing Rin isn't in the mood to talk right now.

"I'm nervous actually, about the future." You say before clearing your throat.

Rin turns around and looks at you, "and?"

The stars were lovely, lovelier than anything you've ever seen.

"It just feels like time flies by so quickly, all of the sudden Sae is in Spain and now we're just- ya know… here."

Rin doesn't say a word again, only listening to the rustling of the leaves as it sways with the wind.

"I just wish we had more time. What if something bad happens in the future and we're not friends anymore?"

Rin sits up before flicking your forehead, "Hey what was that for?!"

"To stop your lukewarm talking, stop worrying about the future— I started learning some Spanish so when Sae comes back I can greet him and.."

He looks back at you, nervous and shaking; tears welling up in his eyes. He misses Sae too much.

You tap his shoulder lightly, pushing him to continue what he wants to say.

"Que sera, sera I think? I searched it up and it means whatever will be, will be. So stop worrying too much, you idiot" he rolls his eyes, trying to stop the tears from leaving his eyes.

The world felt peaceful like this, only you and him; the moon and stars as your witness.

A few years later Sae comes back though it didn't go as expected. You two were ecstatic when Sae came back but he changed. After that Rin and Sae were no longer 'Rin and Sae'; now they were just strangers.

Sae was a catalyst for what Rin would become. Rin stopped eating chocolates. Rin would overexert his body from practice and when you two talk it's nothing more than just 'hello'.

Needless to say you were hurt. This wasn't the Rin you knew, the new him is now an empty shell of what he used to be; no— the old Rin died when Sae came back and now you're left to mourn alone for the old him.

You don't watch Rin's practice anymore; you couldn't bear to see that bitter expression written on his face as he tries and tries to practice more just to catch up to his brother.

Months later, Rin was accepted to blue lock. He was gone again for months.

Staring at the small tv screen when you watch the U20 vs Blue lock match.

The camera pans over to Rin disheveled, on his knees when Sae comes over to him. You wonder what happened between them when they met again on the field that caused Rin to be beyond irritated even though his team won.

A week later, Rin comes back to the neighborhood park, kicking the football with tears in his eyes. Pouring all his anger on the ball, almost deflating the ball in the process.

A gust of wind blows on your face before you utter a weak 'hi'. It was like a teen romcom cliche but the thing is there was no chemistry anymore.

At Least… that you thought that there wasn't.

"Go away." He groans, fixing his shoe tie and running off to get the ball.

"I saw the game." You yell trying to get his attention. He kicks the ball again but this time with more force, the ball ricocheting and bouncing on the fences. "You did great."

Two words almost fell from your lips but cleared your throat, trying to make sure the 'Im proud' doesn't spill from your lips as maybe your tears will too.

Rin quirks his face into an expression you can't describe. Anger? Hatred? But when you stare longer at his eyes, watch how his chest heaves up and down shakily you can see a hint of sadness— as if he was a ripped doll, his heart torn apart, left to rot. He would never admit it but the way you stare at him with such pity, angers him. It makes his torn heart beat rapidly and his lungs bruise more, waiting for you to sew him up again; fixing him.

But he would never admit it, his ego warped mind and his dying heart. He doesn't notice it but he feels alive when he sees you again.

He doesn't know what to do when you stare at him with pity. The small child locked away a long time ago in the corners of his soul begging him to let it all out and cry in your arms; maybe you could see how he's hurting and maybe you'll stitch him up again.

But you don't. At least not now.

He shivers from the cold air, he's glad it's winter as the cold weather could freeze his tears away before you even see it. But it's not cold enough to turn his tears into icicles as he sheds a tiny tear, he swears if he could just open up to you, you would catch it.

His ragged breathing, his worried expression, the tears threatening to leak from his eyes all of it. You ingrain all of it in your mind, burning this memory into your brain.

You want to run towards him, hug him, comfort him like you did as a child. Your arms aching to hold his trembling figure but you don't, fearing it might ignite more tension between you two. So you just watch as he tries to hold back his tears right in front of you.

You say nothing and hand over a piece of chocolate. Watching him accept it and eating one for the first time, oh how he's forgotten the taste of this treat.

There was a silent agreement with you two. A simple nod and you two go back to your own paths now, wondering how the other one is doing right now.

Months pass by again and this time Rin won the world cup but you notice a change in him, a spark reignited in him. The same old spark when he first started playing football.

You couldn't afford to go to the actual world cup so you watch the match on your tv screen. Seeing him in person is better but never seeing him at all even on a screen is worse.

Months ago Rin would be red in anger, you don't know why but it feels like you should've done something. But now, even on the screen you could see him smile for the first time as he shakes hands with Sae.

Letting out a sigh of relief, maybe Rin is fixed, maybe he was the same rin back then. Maybe, just maybe you two could be on good terms again.

Then it happened.

You see Rin again at the park. The neighbors were talking about how the itoshi brothers were going back to the neighbor so you went to the park; this is where Rin has always been.

A leaf falls to your side and at that moment Rin notices your presence. Anxiety bubbling in his chest, he knows what he's done to you. He's scared that you'll never forgive him for how he treated you.

"I'm uh.." you stutter, the words stuck in your throat. Looking down in shame, if you only said this back then maybe you had a chance to fix him. He looks at you, he doesn't look as broken as before. His eyes no longer bear hatred, only melancholy and guilt.

"I'm proud. I'm proud of you." You've finally let the words out, the ones that have been dying to be said.

Silence.

Rin has never been good with words and neither have you. Rin doesn't say anything, he stands up and kicks the football to the tree. That tree has been there for as long as you remember. It was the sign of your pact, your friendship.

He shoves his hand in his pocket, trying to find something. It takes him a while and he pulls out a tiny treat.

It was that same chocolate he first gave you as a child.

Que sera, sera right?

What will be, will be.

From the beginning it was you and Rin. In the end it will always be you and Rin.

You stretch your back after finishing sweeping and dusting the living room. Your shared house should get some renovations by now but oh well, Rin's schedule has never been that generous to give you both enough time.

The warm sun hits your skin as you walk to the garden and tend to the flowers. After you and Rin hit it off he started to plant your favorite flowers in your garden, so even if it weren't valentines day, he'd still have enough flowers to give you every day.

"I'm home." That familiar voice echoes in the room, the door creaking open.

You chuckle as you place the broom away, "Hard day?"

He nods and hugs you, his wedding ring hitting your back as he hugs too tightly. He lets out a small giggle when you pepper his face with kisses.

You threw the curtain at his chest as he raised an eyebrow, "Rin, we should really renovate and shop for new stuff— these things are getting a little too wonky don't you think?"

He lets out a sigh, he barely notices the condition of the house when he's out for months. "Fine, fine. We're going out later"

Your lips quirk into a smile. Oh how lucky you are to be with him. The way he treated you like a deity, praising the floor you step foot on. Caring for you and treating you kindly, gently even as a way to pay back what you did for him. You stitched his torn heart back up, sure the scars will stay forever but he learnt how to cherish it because it brought him to you.

"Rin, help me with this thing— it's too heavy!"

He rushes to your side and hastily carries all the heavy luggage and boxes, helping you out as you two laugh and talk about your day.

He was an idiot, he forgot it was valentines day, no wonder why you were so pouty. Rin will just make it up to you later.

Que sera, sera.

Whatever will be, will be.

It will always be You and Rin. Nothing more, nothing less.

- La fin♡

Note: so so sorry if this has so many mistakes, i just started writing again and this is just practice. English is not my first language. ♡

Being tumblr mutuals isn't enough I need to hug them

I’VE BEEN SUMMONED DID I HEAR KARASU?? pls he’s so precious to me 🥺🫶 he’s such a little shit i feel it in my bones. (my fave trope with him is def academic rivals to *wink wonk* more but regardless) you totally have one of those relationships where you just playfully roast each other and purely communicate in jabs. you’d think he actually hates you, but if anyone else talks shit about you he’s quick to brutally cut them down bc “‘m the only one who gets to badmouth you, kay, my sweet little nemesis?” he’d TOTALLY call you shit like that to piss you off i wanna kick him with my mouth. “my precious headache. my loveliest irritation. my most beloved torment.” it’s never your name, only my, my, my and whatever he decided to annoy you with that day. and you’re confused, because you know him in a very specific context due to the nature of your whatever-ship, but you don’t actually know him because you’ve never once had a serious conversation with him ever. and you think it’s time you change that. “if you’re free this weekend, let’s get milkshakes. my treat.” and karasu already has that permanent smirk curving on his mouth. “what’s this, my prettiest groupie? that desperate for company?” “if you keep being an ass i’ll invite someone else on a date.” and for the first time, you’re able to knock that smirk right off his face and render him into a wide-eyed, flustered mess. because he’s like oh. oh. a date. you’re actually serious. and he’s liked you for so long he doesn’t know what to do with himself, or his arms, but he knows he’s blushing profusely and you look all smug, but for once he’ll let it pass because he’s been horrendously and painfully flirting with you for the past year and holy shit you just asked him on a date. he’s a dork underneath all that sass and brains i KNOW HE IS

DIZZY DIZZY DIZZY <3333 guhh you do not know how much i enjoy academic rivals to lovers i eat that shit up so hardd and god with karasu it's even better. when he started calling you things like "my sweetest inconvenience" it started off as a joke. he enjoyed the way your brows knitted together at the sound of his voice, the irritated twist of your lip and he loves when you quip back.

but as it carries on, he realizes that while he's been teasing you through the my, my, my game, he's started to truly desire you for himself. he wants to call you his. you're mine. he wants it. wants it more than anything. imagine a rivals to fwbs plot where after he's realized his feelings, you get heart broken by the person you love, and he makes himself available to you as a vice, to vent out your frustrations on and to help you feel good.

he can handle it, he thinks. he's smart, has control over himself. he'll be fine.

but as he cups your face in his palm, grazing your cheek with his thumb, looking into your tear-filled. discontented eyes as he says, "'m sorry 's how it turned out for ya, my sweet." he stuns himself with the fact that he didnt add any more to it. my sweet.

my sweet what? everything, he thinks later, after you're gone and he's all alone in his bed again. arms crossed behind his head, the sheets bunched up around him smelling of you. you're my sweet everything.

and he wishes so badly for you to feel the same about him. maybe he cant handle it, after all.