Roses. Kita Shinsuke X Reader

roses. kita shinsuke x reader

“Wow.”

You say this aloud, voice not at all absent of amazement as you enter the classroom and greet your seatmate: Kita Shinsuke. But, it’s not Kita you’re looking at. Rather, you’re staring with wide eyes at the mountain of roses that has amassed on top of his desk, in every color flower imaginable. 

It’s Valentines’ Week at your school, and your high school offers cheap rose deliveries for sale: you can send a rose and a note to anyone of your choosing, whether it be a significant other, a secret crush, or just a friend that you appreciate. You clutch your single pink rose to your chest and make your way to your seat. The Mt. Fuji of roses on Kita’s desk makes yours feel small and insignificant.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs, having the decency to look embarrassed. “Do you want me to move them?”

“No, no,” you tell him, sitting down in your seat next to him. It’s not surprise that he’s gotten this many. 

Kita is the captain of the volleyball club, even though you’ve heard people say that he’d never even been given a uniform before the start of this year. That didn’t matter to you; at his shy request, you’d gone to the Spring Tournament to watch them play. The way he moved across the court, saving even the most precarious of balls, was mesmerizing. His reputation also isn’t short of praise. He’s one of the top students in the grade and his sweet, polite charm is what draws everyone to him. He’s unobtainable to most girls, who have clearly relied on their rose grams to confess their admiration for him. But to you, he’s just your regular ol’ classroom partner. 

Well… you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive either. 

It doesn’t matter; he clearly has too many girls on his hands anyways. You’d hate to be another girl lost in that sea of roses piled atop his desk. 

As you reach into your bag to pull out your belongings, Kita questions, “You got a rose too?”

Yeah, you had. You purse your lips, attempting to bite back the smile on your lips. A pink rose, your first gifted rose ever, except the note attached to it had nothing but a little smiley face written on it. It was a pleasant surprise, one you hadn’t been expecting when you walked into school today. “Yeah, just one… I don’t know who it’s from, though,” you respond, feeling a sweet warmth creep up your body and rest on your face. Your mind runs wild with questions, wondering who would do such a thing, but you ultimately decide that when the time is right, that person will reveal themselves. 

“Oh,” replies Kita, sounding almost disappointed. Then, before you can even question his tone, he wears a warm smile on his lips once again. “Maybe that person will work up the courage to say something soon.”

“Hopefully,” you respond, a smitten smile dancing over your lips. 

“Pink roses symbolize love and admiration, you know.” 

“Do they?” Kita nods in response to your question. “Oh… that’s nice. How do you know that?” 

“My grandmother has a flower garden. I help with her arrangements sometimes.” 

The bell rings, signifying the beginning of class. As the teacher begins to pull together the attention of class, you nod your chin toward the stack of flowers on Kita’s desk. There must be at least forty piled there… “Maybe you can use those arrangement skills to do something with that,” you tell him, with a small laugh. 

Then, you turn your attention to the teacher’s announcements, but Kita’s eyes remain gently glued to the lonely pink flower on your desk. Yes, maybe one day that person would work up the nerve to confess.

In Kita’s eyes, it didn’t matter how many flowers he received; after all, he only sent one. 

He Knows

GN!MC X Obey Me characters

Lucifer knows - that he should restrain himself. That he's smiling too much, too openly around you. That the day he lays definite claim on you, the chaos in the house will be enough to set it on fire.

That the closest he can be to you is behind closed doors, when you are sitting next to him, helping him verify documents and applications from the Student Council. He knows and yet his hand reaches for yours as you are about to leave.

"Why don't you stay the night here, MC?"

💫

Mammon knows - that you deserve so much more than him. That he keeps calling himself Great in hopes that he'll someday believe himself. That you're one bad day away from your seemingly endless patience running out.

That right even though, you're looking at him as if you'll never love anyone else now, it might just be temporary. Yet, he sinks his head deeper into your lap and mumbles softly.

"Being your first enough. Make me your last too, MC, please."

💫

Leviathan knows - that he's being selfish. That you're constantly sacrificing your own desires to meet his and he's not stopping you. That your little finger is worth more than his entire existence and you're endlessly kind to give him even a minute of your precious time.

That even though you're sitting here laughing and nudging him, you deserve to be with people who can match your dazzling energy. He knows and yet he turns to look at you with his sheepish smile you like.

"Want a play a few more rounds, MC?"

💫

Satan knows - that he's one of the biggest threats to your life in the house. That no matter how hard he represses his rage, it will always be utterly destructive when it comes out. That you're the last person he wants to hurt. That it might only take one wrong move to harm your fragile body beyond repair.

That even though you look so content leaning on him as you read from the same book, he'd much rather lock himself away to keep you safe. And yet, he lets you rest your head on his shoulder, running his fingers through your hair.

"You can lean in closer if it makes you comfortable, MC."

💫

Asmodeus knows - that his beauty is useless when it comes to you. That your soul shines much brighter than his ever did. That no matter how much his improves his night-time skin routine, he can never really charm you the way he can do with others.

That his heart beats faster when you merely touch his cheek and tell him how cute he looks blushing. That even though you call him gorgeous no matter, his beauty alone won't be enough. Yet he keeps dressing up for you, twirling for you as you cheer him on.

"Keep looking at me, MC."

💫

Beelzebub knows - that his hunger will one day be a nuisance to you. That you learned to eat less so you can push more of your food onto his plate. That he might end up eating a good amount of human world food that was meant especially for you. That your stomach often roars softly in class because you gave him your lunch.

That despite all that you still smile excitedly when it's your turn to cook, proudly an extra large batch to fill his appetite. And yet, he lets you feed him with your hands, getting extra large plates so there's always enough left for you.

"Now it's my turn to feed you, MC. Say ahh."

💫

Belphegor knows - that he can never truly be redeemed. That you are far too forgiving for your own good and he hates taking advantage of that. That he can't deny it when you so nonchalantly offer your shoulder for him to sleep on. That he can't give up on this escapist bliss and bring himself to apologise for that night.

That he tries to fall asleep before you because he gets afraid if he stares at your closed eyes for too long. That when you fall asleep next to him, he often checks your neck for your pulse and the hideous marks of his sin. Yet he curls up closer, offering his pillow for you to share.

"You can lay next to me whenever you're tired, MC."

Journals

I wanted to write my thoughts on how and why they'd keep a journal. I wanted to do most of them at once but I just finished Mammon's and it's 00:26am I really wanna sleep but I'm equally excited to share it so i'll link the rest of them later.

Lucifer

“Dear Lilith,”

His journal is handmade by a well-known bookbinder in the Devildom and he enchanted it so only he could open it as long as he is alive. He takes the time to write in it daily, in between two pieces of paperwork or at the end of the day. He prefers to be alone when he does because he gets emotional but if he is comfortable enough with you he’d appreciate it if you laid beside him and put your head on his lap while he strokes your head. He writes as if he was going to send a letter to his little sister; always starts with “Dear Lilith,” or “Beloved sister,” and never ends it, as in he doesn’t sign it or finish with a formula; it relieves him from the burden thought that he cannot send it to anyone, anywhere.

He dearly remembers meaningful events from his life; like the annoying’s exchange student arrival in the Devildom or his first kiss with that very same loved individual, so he only talks about the mundane in his entries. He talks about his brothers’ shenanigans and achievements throughout their immortal life. The afternoon Levi flooded the whole house by summoning Lotan and how Levi looked like a kicked puppy after realizing the mess he made out of the house. The way Mammon carefully enters his room and takes comfort in curling up next to his big brother when he has a nightmare, despite denying it all every morning when it happens. That’s where he externalizes his gentler side and soft spot for his brothers. He talks so fondly of them every night, no matter how disastrous or problematic they made his day; that’s maybe why he hasn’t cursed them in a timeless loop yet.

Mammon

”Dear Goldie,”

He occasionally writes in it, probably in a digital journal. He has a racing mind and despite being quite gifted in terms of hand skills, he isn’t a fast writer on the paper. Not only does he has a racing mind but since you came along, more often than not he finds himself with a racing heart in front of the screen. You can be assured he did talk about your first kiss, and if you squint you can find hints of his undying love for you long before you even developed feelings for him. He repertories every first times with you, and he is minutious about it. The way you smiled at him, hold him, and over all the way you make him feel even when you’re not around; he cherishes every memory he has of you. He types all his feelings out with shaky hands, every so often rolling over, and hiding his flushed face in a pillow.

He initially talks about his money schemes and wins and, more often than he’d ever admit it, he writes one paragraph or two about his brothers and the Purgatory boys. He mostly sounds like a sad teenage girl. That’s where he pours out everything he doesn’t show or say to them especially when they’re ruthless with him. It’s not all sorrow and worries in his journal. He notices the sweet treats made and gifted by little chubby hands in his room, and a clumsy note about how “devilish and inappropriate” it is to stay out the whole evening and night. He surely takes the time to write about the restful nap he took with Belphie and Luke under a tree after a family picnic. He will not fail to remember Asmo’s delighted expression when they managed to get the last pink-cherry-devil smoothie after driving all around the Devildom for hours.

The secretary confirms your name, checking you into your appointment and sucks in a tight breath.

"What's wrong?" you ask, worried you might be here on the wrong day or at the wrong time.

"Nothing," he gently assures you and tries to smile, "I just noticed your appointment is with Dr. Shirabu."

"Oh...Is that bad?" You drop your voice and the secretary starts to shake his head but then sighs.

"He's a brilliant doctor. One of our best really, but..." He glances around. "He's got a bit of a nickname.... Stone-face."

It doesn't take much to figure out why.

As he delivers your diagnosis his features don't emote. His voice stays even, his posture proper, and his eyes flat.

His words bounce around your mind causing pain with each hit as understanding echoes distantly in the protective disassociation.

All you can see is his face.

His golden hair looks soft as if it would tickle your hands like the tassels on tall grass. His brow has the slightest downturn over neutral eyes and as you fight to accept the horror he just delivered you realize that yes. He's stone-faced. But he's not

...cold.

"Thank you, Dr. Shirabu."

His brow dips, threatening to frown. "For what?"

"I just...I can't imagine news like this is easy to deliver." You swallow back the tears fighting to get out. "And it's got to be nerve-wracking each time."

"It's..." He was going to say fine, you can tell. But something shifts between you in the small room and some wall drops. His emotionless exterior becomes a little more revealing. "Just part of the job."

You nod, not trusting your voice to speak.

Dr. Shirabu waits patiently. "Do you...have any questions?"

"Not, uh," you clear your throat, "not right now but I will."

He nods. After a moment he pulls a pen from his shirt pocket and flips a page of your paperwork. "Just call me directly when you're ready to ask."

"Thanks," you mumble, accepting the papers. Glancing at the number you notice "it's your cellphone?"

"Yes," he turns away with a little cough and successfully hides the pink on his cheeks.

He doesn't know how to tell you that he trusts you won't abuse it. He's given other patients his desk line before but never his cellphone, not that you need to know. It's just...he feels a foreign need to be available for you...to answer any questions to might have...to really be there for you.

Is this how doctors feel about all their patients?

He's not sure.

But after one conversation all he knows is that he wants to be there for you.

a/n: this is just something silly lol based off of a reddit post i saw bout about how someone’s bf blinks at them like a cat to show affection <3

kenma read about it once in a book; the way that cats express their love. he thought it was cute. the way they show their belly, purr a little bit more, slowly blink at their favorite person. small, subtle; powerful. a sign of complete trust. like he said, it was cute.

but he never thought he’d adapt it into his own love language. didn’t think that slowly blinking his eyes at you meant anything at all besides getting lost in your beauty. he hardly even recognized he was doing it, in fact. until you pointed it out.

he tried to deny it at first, somewhat embarsssed that he was showing affection the same way a cat would. if only his old classmates at nekoma knew, they’d have a field day with him.

but his perspective changed the night he took you to one of his work parties; the kind that had him stuffed into a suit and feeling like a fish out of water. he’s used to it by now, of course, but he’d much rather be curled up with you at home rather than trying to network with potential investors.

he met your eye from across the room. you had gone to get drinks while he was standing in a small group that wouldn’t stop talking. the moment your eyes met his, you started the slow blink — fluttering your lashes while the softest smile formed on your face.

warmth filled him, the simple yet silly gesture had all of his nerves quiet down. all lingering negativity vanished. he felt himself return the look. so subtle that no one could ever tell you were practically screaming your declarations of love across the room. no, it was your shared little secret.

"No...No, he's not."

Kuroo smirks confidently. "He is."

"From..From Italy?" You glance at the signature on the contract as your pulse steadily builds. "Kageyama's really coming all the way back from Italy for the all-star match?!"

When Kuroo nods you start to hyperventilate. "No way. He's not."

"Yes, way." Kuroo grins like the Cheshire cat. "I assure you: he is."

"Does...Does Hinata know?" you ask between erratic breaths, not waiting for an answer. "When did you--When did he--"

Kuroo snorts, shaking his head incredulously at your disbelief. "You're acting like you're not already friends with Kageyama, like you don't even know him when--"

"When we even dated. I know. I know!" you pant and Kuroo puts his hands on your shoulders. "Ohmygod, Kuroo. I can't--"

Someone else walks up to your office and pauses, eyes widening on-guard before they slowly back away.

"Breathe," Kuroo insists. "I know you're excited but you can't pass out right now. Okay?"

Your breathing only returns to normal after he promises to tell you the details of the all-star arrangements.

It's been...too long...since you've seen Tobio. You parted amicably after the Olympics when the offer for Ali Roma came up and he couldn't turn it down. You agreed to stay friends and you genuinely wanted to...but the time zones and demanding careers had inhibited both of your abilities to stick to that agreement.

His absence has been too painful to acknowledge.

You know the all-star match is only an intermission from his current life but you can't help counting down the days excitedly.

And, as promised, Kuroo makes sure you're there on the day they all gather.

"Well, well, well, look what tha cat dragged in," says Miya in greeting, the first to notice you when you walk in with Kuroo.

You don't have time for the blonde today. "Shut it, 'Tsumu. I'm here to see the best setter in the world."

He scoffs, scandalized. You knew you were going to be accosted by old friends and thought you properly prepared yourself to say hi to everyone but as heads turn and a fluff of orange starts to bound toward you...you're a lot more anxious than you realized.

"The best setter in the world, you say?" a suave voice coos and a tall man drapes an arm around Hinata's shoulders. "Shōyo-san, won't you introduce your friend here to the best setter in the world?"

You grit your teeth. "I already know him."

"Surely not because we haven't met yet." He gives you a charming smile. "Oikawa To--"

"Oh I don't need to meet you." Your eyes narrow, smile getting tighter as more friends crowd but none of them are the face you want to see. The brunette leaning on Hinata opens his mouth to say something but you hold up a finger. "Hang on," you pat yourself up and down as if checking pockets, "Did I..." you frown dramatically, "Nope. I didn't bring a single fuck today so I don't have any to give you."

Miya has to turn away to hide a howl of laughter and Kuroo mutters your name, a warning.

"Oh, shit. Wait." You reach into your back pocket. "Sorry. Here you go" --you stick your middle finger up at him and storm through the crowd, patience long gone-- "just for you."

There are cackles of laughter and Kuroo looks like he's about to throw you out despite Oikawa's unphased smirk but you're finally able to step away from the group.

Down the court he's standing in service position and looks up from the ball twirling in his hands.

Kageyama grins.

You run.

Worried for a moment that he won't be happy to see you, your heart nearly explodes when he closes the last few steps with his own and opens his arms. You leap and he catches you, ball still clutched in his ridiculously strong hands.

"I've missed you," you murmur as he crushes you against him.

He simply nods in return.

You milk everything out of his time in Japan, day and night. Every moment he's willing to spare, even wearing his jersey to the match despite protests of favoritism from other athletes.

Before he leaves he does something uncharacteristically sweet and opens up, vulnerably admitting how much he misses you.

"I'm not ready to leave you again." He's anxious when he asks "come with me?"

You cup his cheeks, your own burning with the strength of your smile. "Sì."