Someone New
Someone New
Summary: Travelling worlds has its side effects; namely, having visions of multiple timelines. As you get closer to the housewardens after their overblots, you begin to see the possible future that awaits the two of you, if only you decide to choose them.
Overblot gang x Reader (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Jamil, Vil, Idia, Malleus)
GN but mentions of biological children - imagine anything you want though (magic spells that make anything possible!)
i. blooms of red and bursts of reason; riddle rosehearts
Even after knowing him for months, you don’t touch Riddle until long after his overblot. He isn’t truly comfortable with you, with anyone, touching him so casually.
The chill of autumn ghosts your skin, making goosebumps rise along your arms. When he notices you rubbing your forearms to gather some warmth, Riddle insists on offering you his coat. Something about ‘rule five hundred and nine.’
His ways don’t always make sense to you, but you appreciate the sentiment behind the action. You take his coat, uttering your gratitude to him, although it’s quite small considering his stature. He offers you a small smile; in Riddle’s case, you know that means a lot.
You can’t help but return his smile, the small affection making your heart stir suddenly. It’s nice - spending time alone with Riddle. At the beginning of the year, you’d never have imagined becoming close with him. It was hard to see past the strict housewarden who never let anything go.
You think he’d made assumptions about you too. About you being a troublemaker, someone not worth his time, just another problem. You’re thankful you’ve both come around.
You stare at him from the corner of your eye as you walk together. He truly is gentle at heart, despite what his temper might suggest. His red hair sits perfectly on his head, cutely framing his face. It makes you think of his mother; his hair is perhaps the only good thing she passed onto him.
You snap out of your thoughts when you step a little too hard into a puddle and accidentally splash your pants, slightly dirtying them. Riddle turns when he hears your grumble, and you prepare yourself for a scolding. You won’t hold it against him; it was your fault for being careless.
Instead, Riddle only shakes his head gently, before asking if you’d like to stop at Ramshackle to change before you two arrive at the library.
Your surprise forces you to take a moment and just look at him. So far he’s come from the person he was only a couple months ago. You feel strangely sentimental, so you reach out to touch his shoulder, intending to thank him.
As soon as you make contact with him, the world around you shifts, brown and orange leaves being traded for the bright green of spring.
-
You sit under a pagoda tree, the wind gently blowing the pages of your novel. It’s strange - you’re seeing things as yourself, but you’re not in control. It’s as though you’re replaying the memory of someone else. At the sound of someone’s voice, ‘you’ look up. It’s there that you spot familiar red hair; it forms a stark contrast to the vegetation around you.
He’s not alone, either. In Riddle’s arms is a small baby, with identical hair to who you presume is his father. It’s a striking image - Riddle with his child. He’s noticeably older; if you had to guess, he seems to be in his late twenties.
“MC? Sorry to bother, but he’s been refusing to eat today. I checked our parenting books thrice, but I haven’t found any suitable solutions. I thought you might know how to help him.”
“That’s okay,” you hear your voice say. “How is our little guy doing?”
Riddle passes the baby to you, and you finally take notice of his other features; this child has the same colour eyes as you, and a similarly shaped nose.
You then catch a glimpse of the ring sparking on your left hand, and the other on Riddle’s.
“Hmm,” you’re vision-self says. “Let’s go back home, I’ll try to see what’s bothering him.”
“Alright, dear. I’ll start on dinner,” older-Riddle replies.
He takes your hand and helps you up, before you walk back toward the house in the distance, your hand still in his.
-
When the greens turn to orange, you blink, finding Riddle looking at you. You’re back at NRC.
“Are you alright, prefect? You seem distracted.”
“I’m okay, Riddle. I just…never mind. Let’s get going.”
You decide not to tell him about your strange…Dream? Vision? It all seemed so real…you could smell the tree sap and feel the breeze flow against your skin. You held a baby. Your baby…with Riddle? The two of you were older, but would it really be possible for it to truly be your future? That seemed ridiculous. Then again, you thought the same thing about magic a few months ago.
You resolve to keep this strange occurrence to yourself until you can figure out what happened. It’s hard to look at Riddle, having now seen the two of you married and with a child together. You’re more flustered than usual. Was this just some kind of daydream projection of your fantasies about him? You weren’t even really sure you could say you have a ‘crush’ on him - after all, you’ve only recently begun getting close. Not that you haven’t thought of him that way at all but-
You’re sure Riddle takes notice of your strange behaviour throughout your study session but, thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it.
ii. dizzying dreams and endless nights; leona kingscholar
You’d fought Leona hard to get where you are now - on the left side of his bed, with Grim sleeping at the base. You’re exhausted with everything going on with Azul (hopefully) temporarily taking your dorm, but it’s hard to sleep with how worried you are about the situation.
Leona’s room is dim, moonlight cascading over the silk sheets. You can barely make out his form, curled up in the blankets and turned away from you.
You don’t want to disturb the sleeping lion, but he happens to be hogging the entire blanket. You suppose you should’ve known, but it wasn’t as though you had time to take anything from Ramshackle.
When the chill becomes too much to ignore, you try to tug part of the blanket away from him. This causes Leona to roll over, arm suddenly falling around your back.
You’re hit with another wave of blurry vision as the moon melts into the sun.
-
“Morning,” you hear a voice, your voice, say to him. Your tone is playful and lightheartedly chastising. You can feel his arms wrapped snuggly around you.
It’s happening again, the same as with Riddle. You’re seeing things from your own eyes, but you’re not in control.
A groan comes from behind you, Leona shuffling his position but refusing to open his eyes. His bare legs brush yours under the covers. “Too early. Go back to sleep.” He pulls you closer into his chest.
‘You’ laugh gently, turning around in his arms so you’re now face to face. “You promised the queen we would attend this banquet. Especially after we missed the last one.”
He looks older here too, but as gorgeous as ever. Despite just waking up, Leona’s dark hair falls perfectly around his face. The room is different than his one at school; it’s still a bedroom, but it looks as though you’re back in the castle of Sunset Savanna.
Leona finally opens his eyes, looking at you with a heavy gaze before flipping you below him. His arms hold him straight above you, looking down on you lying prone on the bed. “Hmph.” He leans in close until your lips are only millimetres apart. “We have some time, don’t we?”
You’re left staring into those piercing green eyes, entranced by them being closer than ever.
With that, he leans in completely, lips brushing over your own as he begins to kiss you. The longer it goes, the more ravenous he becomes, more and more greedy for the taste of your lips.
-
When the sunlight fades to moonlight, you’re left embarrassed. That was - so much worse than with Riddle?! Ugh, it’s so awkward with Leona sleeping beside you now, like you’ve violated some kind of rule by thinking of him that way.
You’re too afraid to even consider the possibility of it being some kind of dream. It came on so suddenly, but you hadn’t been asleep. The whole thing seemed so real, too elaborate for a simple dream. No, it had to be more than that - some kind of vision - but how could that be true? And what did that mean about your vision with Riddle? Surely they couldn’t both be correct.
You’d intended on ignoring it before, but with Leona’s vision, that seemed futile. Perhaps the staff would have some answers for you…
iii. seashells shimmer in the forever sea; azul ashengrotto
Azul isn’t one for touching, and this time neither are you. Ever since the Crowley’s theory about alternate universes and rips in time since you’ve travelled worlds, you’ve decided it’s best to stay away from touching too many people. It was…interesting, to see a possible future with Riddle and Leona, but it’s certainly left you ambivalent. It’s a bit difficult not to avoid them when your mind drifts to your ‘visions’ while in their vicinity.
Riddle is kind enough to ignore your sudden shyness, but Leona has openly called you out on how flustered you get around him. He seems both confused and amused about the development, and his smugness is too much to handle sometimes.
Fortunately for you, Leona doesn’t hang around the Mostro Lounge much, making it the perfect place for you to avoid him. You try to force Ace and Deuce to come with you and study there, but the two have been reluctant considering their previous encounters with the twins while trying to get Azul’s picture.
That means you’re left to go alone, sometimes. Well, alone except for Grim. He never leaves you hanging as long as you agree to buy him food. Just like today, where he sits passed out across the other side of the booth, having eaten himself into a food coma.
You try to return to your homework, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch Azul staring at you from the staff area. When you make eye contact, he only waves, smile dripped in plasticity. When you don’t clue in, he walks toward your table, eventually taking a seat across from you, beside Grim.
“Hello, Prefect,” he says.
“Azul.”
Unlike Riddle - and even to some extent, Leona - you haven’t really gotten close to Azul after his overblot. He doesn’t exactly want you to, it seems.
“I noticed you’ve been frequenting the Lounge quite frequently as of late - I just wanted to thank you, for being a dedicated patron.”
“I’m not doing it for you, but you’re welcome, I guess.”
“Ah yes, I presumed. So, who are you doing it for?”
Your mind snaps to thoughts of you and Leona in the future, his arms around you in his bed-
“Nothing. No one. Do you need something, Azul?”
Despite your attempt at neutrality, Azul must see something on your face as you attempt to rid your mind of your vision of Leona. He leans in a bit, curious to observe you.
You begin packing up your things, too distracted to continue studying.
“No need to leave on my account,” he says.
“It’s not.”
He stands at the same time as you, presumably planning to head back to his office. Unfortunately for the both of you, you hadn’t noticed Grim migrate to his place sleeping on the floor. When you take a step forward and trip, Azul is, tragically, directly in front of you.
Your arms reach out instinctively, but instead of stabilizing yourself by grabbing onto his shoulders, the force of your fall knocks the both of you over.
As soon as you make contact with him, your vision swirls into another world full of beautiful blues.
-
The coral sea is even more breathtaking than you remember. You’ve only been a couple times, but the drastic differences between the land and ocean always manage to stun you. The water is so clear that it practically glitters as you wave your hands through it, feeling the water pass refreshingly across your smooth skin.
You’ve never been to this specific place before (presumably, it doesn’t exist yet), but it’s clear what it is: a restaurant. If the octopus logo has anything to do with it, clearly it’s Azul’s. It wasn’t too surprising to you that he would have more restaurants open in the future, but you weren’t sure what you were doing here. If the pattern followed, it seemed inevitable that you and Azul would be…romantically-involved in this timeline, but that just didn’t seem possible.
At least you had befriended Riddle and Leona to an extent - Azul looked down on your existence as a magicless person, seemingly entirely apathetic about you in general. You had to admit, the feelings were mutual considering his treatment of you and your friends.
You feel ‘yourself’ look around the restaurant, before heading back into the staff area. You knock on the door to an office, and Azul opens it with a smile.
He, too, is older. His face has matured a bit and he also wears his hair a bit longer. Azul still has his grey suit, though.
“Hello, MC. Done for the day?”
“I guess so, boss,” your voice replied cheekily. Boss?? Why would your future self ever work for-
“Hmm, I may have more tasks for you, why don’t you come in~”
With that, future-Azul takes your hand and tugs you into his office. On his desk sits several picture frames; one of his parents and one of his wedding. You happened to spot yourself in the second one.
It’s a bit jarring to see; you and Azul posed together, dressed up in such fancy clothing. His arm sits around your shoulder, and yours around his waist. Before this, the two of you have never even shook hands.
You hear yourself giggling, cornering Azul against the wall as soon as he closes the door and bringing your arms around his neck to kiss him.
You can already feel the dread forming; you definitely won’t be able to spend time at the Mostro Lounge after this…
As the two of you pull away, Azul starts talking about a reunion for your graduating class at NRC.
“I told them maybe - with the new branch of our restaurant opening, we may wish to stay back. Then again, it could be a great opportunity to network for us. What do you think, dear?”
Before you can hear your reply, the world fades back into the familiar lighting of the Mostro Lounge.
-
A groaning Azul is beneath you, having (unfortunately for him) broken your fall.
You utter a quiet ‘sorry!’ as you get off of him, still a bit flustered from your vision.
He gets up, dusting himself off. Thankfully, the two of you are in a rather secluded area of the place, so no one was there to witness your embarrassment.
Azul can no longer maintain the facade of kind gentleman as he turns back to you, voice dripping with passive aggressiveness.
“I would prefer if you refrained from touching me in the future. Thank you.”
With that, he gets up and leaves. You shake your head - how could there possibly be any timeline where you’ve married him?
iv. jaded jewels shine, awaken from slumber; jamil viper
While helping out with the VDC, you’ve had time to get close to Jamil. Much closer, in fact, than with any of the others you’ve had visions of before. Now you’ve avoided touching him for a whole other reason - you’re scared you won’t have a vision.
Spending time with Jamil has made you realize things you’d never thought about him before - his handsomeness, intelligence, and talent. You’ve developed a bit of a crush on him, considering how much you admire him.
However, you have no idea how he feels. Jamil has never been one to express his feelings so outwardly, but you can’t get a read on him at all. He’s been polite with you, but he’s treated you basically the same as everyone else.
Your attempts at getting closer to him have been rather unsuccessful - the group is so busy practicing, everyone’s been way too exhausted to really do anything.
You manage to get a moment alone at Ramshackle when the rest of the boys have gone to sleep, and you find Jamil sitting out on the porch alone.
“Hey,” you say. “Mind if I join you?”
Jamil turns to look at you before nodding his head. You take a seat beside him, following his gaze to the stars. The sky is dark but the moon casts a glow on him, making Jamil look beautiful under the light.
“What are you thinking about?”
He hums for a moment before replying, “What I’m always thinking about - how things will just go back to normal again after the end of the VDC.”
You don’t really know what to say; his fears seem inevitable, no matter how much you want to comfort him. “I’m sorry…I can’t understand what it’s like for you, but…what if you could still have some kind of happiness in your life?”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know…you could still find love?”
“Find love? You think that’s what I care about?” Jamil’s tone is bitter, but his voice never rises. “Sorry, but you’re awfully naive. Things like love won’t make my life better. It’ll only complicate things.”
“I-I understand.”
When your voice shakes, Jamil finally looks up at you, sighing when he spots your watery eyes.
“Prefect, relax. I’m not angry at you. It’s just a frustrating situation for me, I’m sure you know. I don’t have time to think about love. I just need to focus on myself.”
With that, he pats your shoulder before standing up, leaving you alone to stare at the night sky. Jamil hadn’t even realized you were trying to confess to him, and you felt terrible for even trying to bring it up. Of course he wouldn’t be able to think about something like your stupid little crush - you feel so silly for even bringing it up, you should’ve known better since you know all about his circumstances.
It was then you realized - Jamil had touched you for the first time. He touched you and nothing happened.
The first one you’d been seriously interested in, and there seemed to be no future for the two of you.
Was it possible you’d already messed up this timeline, making it impossible for that future with him to occur? The whole thing made your head spin and your heart ache.
v. swept into spotlights, doused in delicacy; vil schoenheit
Vil had been a surprising comfort in the wake of your unrequited crush on Jamil. The two of you had gotten closer after VDC, and Vil had a way of pulling honesty out of you. It had only taken him a couple days of observing your awkwardness to guess at the situation.
He’d been a shoulder to cry on, both literally and figuratively. There’d been a moment when he first pulled you into his arms that you’d wondered - hoped - that he might be a possibility in your future, but alas, no vision. It was a bit disappointing but you knew it was wrong to feel too badly; it would be greedy of you to desire a connection with so many knowing you could only end up with one.
Vil became a friend - someone you could rely on, someone who could make you laugh, and someone who couldn’t break your heart.
Even when you would start to feel something more than platonic for him, you had to push it away. He was certainly gorgeous and talented and perfect…but he wouldn’t be that for you. He couldn’t, apparently, and maybe he wouldn’t want to either.
Vil was more than just a fellow student - he was an actor, a model, a celebrity - someone too far to reach. Even if you had a vision with him, would it matter?
You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Vil’s hand on your cheek, turning your face to get the correct angle to apply your eyeliner; he’d insisted you get dressed up with him and Rook to go out tonight.
“Move onto the bed,” Vil says.
You stand from the chair in front of his vanity and move hesitantly toward his bed. His silky sheets look perfect - you don’t want to ruin them. Looking back at him, Vil rolls his eyes and gently pushes you toward the bed until you lay back.
You’re left staring up at him on your back, while he sits above you, applying the rest of his products on your face. He’s so close to you, his luscious golden hair almost tickles your face. His pretty purple eyes don’t focus on your own, following his makeup brush.
He looks cute like this, concentrating hard to perfect your makeup. He bites his lip gently, drawing your attention to his pretty mouth, shining with the pink gloss he’d applied earlier.
When he leans away to pick up the blush, you mistakenly think he’s finished and try to sit up. At the same time that you rise, Vil turns back to face you. The timing coincides into an accidental and brief meeting of your lips.
It takes a second for you to realize that the dizziness your feel isn’t due to your racing heart, but the sudden appearance of another vision.
-
The lights flash, bright and blinding. The sharp clicks of cameras obnoxiously disrupt the music heard softly on the street from nearby restaurants and clubs.
You’re rushing away with Vil, hand in hand as he pulls you toward a black limo waiting up ahead. You nearly stumble, but Vil is quick to stabilize you.
Once the two of you escape the paparazzi, you’re left sitting side by side in the backseat of the limo, both breathing heavily. Vil gives the driver instructions to return back to his penthouse.
He turns to you. “Are you okay, darling?”
You feel yourself nod in affirmation, taking ahold of his hand again. He squeezes back.
“I’m sorry they’ve ruined another date. I know it’s hard for you not to have much privacy, but it seems no matter what I do, they find us.” He strokes your hand with his thumb.
“It’s okay, Vil. I knew what I was getting into, dating a celebrity and all that.”
He plants a kiss on your cheek. “Still, they shouldn’t bother us. I may be a celebrity, but you aren’t. You deserve privacy.” He sighs gently. “Has this…impacted our previous discussion?”
You look back up at him. You assume based on past visions that he’s much older now, but he’s kept his youthful and gorgeous look. Even now, his purple eyes make your heart flutter embarrassingly.
“Of course not. I want us to have kids together. You’ll be the best dad and protect them from all this. I know it.”
He kisses you on the lips this time just as your vision begins to end.
-
Vil snaps his fingers over you as you come too, rolling his eyes.
“I know my lips are practically intoxicating, but did you really get that worked up over an accidental peck between friends?”
Your face becomes hot at Vil’s statement, embarrassment setting in. He doesn’t know how right he is.
“Ah, sorry. I got…distracted.”
Vil laughs gently. “Why? Thinking of more of my kisses? They’ll cost you~”
When you stammer in response, he just ruffles your hair gently.
“I’m just teasing you.”
You stare at him for a moment before speaking. “I don’t think we can do each other’s makeup platonically anymore.” If it ever was, that is.
Vil rolls his eyes dramatically again.
vi. hidden in shadows, warmth comes in waves; idia shroud
The incident with Vil leaves you even more confused than before. It makes you wonder…if just touching isn’t always enough to have a vision, does that mean a future where you end up with Jamil is still possible? You don’t even want to hope, knowing the heartache he’d unknowingly caused you before.
And Vil…having a vision about him makes this complicated. When it was just lingering thoughts you could push to the side of your mind, your growing infatuation with him was easy to ignore. Actually seeing your future with him, has made your heart swell and ache at the same time.
You don’t exactly choose to become friends with Idia, it just kind of happens. Just like the previous situations where you’d attempted to avoid the star of your latest vision, Idia is someone who seems like a good choice to help you stay away from them. He isn’t good friends with Jamil or Vil (or frankly anyone). Incidentally, the two of you become friends after a small argument over an anime (the only topic that allows Idia to temporarily overcome his social anxiety just to disagree with you), and you begin to hang out occasionally.
The more your old friends hang out with the VDC group, the more you begin to make excuses and go play video games with Idia and Ortho.
It feels strangely easy, spending time with Idia. You never have to pretend, and with your shared interests, conversation comes naturally. Once you’ve spent enough time around him, he feels much more comfortable around you, willing to share his (strong) thoughts and opinions on everything.
Idia is very…different than you would’ve guessed before you knew him well. While he can be rude, you find it more funny than offensive, and it’s pretty fun to banter with him. His room holds small glimpses into his true personality; video games he loves, posters of his favourite characters. His passion for these things is clear as day.
Sitting on Idia’s couch, you’re playing against him and Ortho in Super Smash Bros. Ortho immediately claimed Kirby, proceeding to destroy the both of you multiple times until he emerged as the winner.
Despite the loss, both you and Idia can’t help but smile. Ortho makes a celebratory noise, before turning back to you.
“MC, we are about to encounter another rip in the time continuum,” Ortho says. “I’m so excited, do you think it will finally be my big brother’s turn to earn your love?”
“What?” you and Idia say for different reasons.
“How do you know about that?
“Earn their love??”
“It’s part of my programming to monitor all things involving space and time.”
“Huh. Okay.”
You suppose it’s true, you’ve never really touched Idia before. The two of you got along like best friends; it wasn’t so much of a stretch to say you could end up having a future together. You hadn’t thought about it much, in light of recent events.
“Usually you’re the only one able to see, but since Idia’s here, why don’t I show him too!”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ortho,” Idia says.
“I think it will be good for you, brother! Don’t worry, I’ll give the both of you some privacy to see your future. It’s approaching in three, two-”
When his countdown reaches one, Ortho plops your hand on top of Idia, making your vision fade once again.
-
The Island of Woe is familiar to you by now, after everything that went down with Idia. The architecture remains impersonal; the uniformity of the blank steel walls reminds you of a maze. The thought had unsettled you, the last time you visited.
Strangely enough, you don’t feel that same sense of anxiety and claustrophobia in this vision. You’re strangely calm; it wouldn’t be crazy to assume that exposure and familiarity has dulled these feelings.
The scene is devastatingly unsurprising. You suppose you’d always known what Idia’s future would be; what all his ancestors futures had been. That hadn’t lessened the spark of hope you’d been carrying that perhaps things might turn out differently than he believed.
You had a bad habit of that: false hope for Jamil, false hope for Idia. It didn’t truly do anyone any good, no matter how much you wished it to.
You’re in Idia’s room. Aside from its size and how nice it is, the decor is a clear giveaway. The posters that line the walls aren’t from media you recognize, so it must be future content, but it’s all in line with Idia’s current tastes. You’re happy he has that, at least. You even catch a glimpse of a couple of his old posters from NRC rolled up in his closet. A few pieces even stand out, things that seem much more suited to your taste than his own.
A familiar head of blue hair wanders into the room.
“Hey MC.”
“Hi Idia,” you feel your lips gently pull up in the corners. Despite ‘your’ outward expression in the vision, you feel a small twinge of pain in your chest.
Idia’s entrance into his room (your room?) lets you take a close look at him. Even ten or so years later, it seems he hasn’t been able to rid himself of his eye bags. Even so, you still think he looks nice, his vibrant hair illuminating his pretty face. He’s cute, smiling back at you.
“Sorry I’m back late again. There’s been so many problems with the new system update, even Ortho can’t handle it himself.” Idia’s expression drops a little.
“It’s okay, I know you’re busy.”
Idia comes to sit beside you on the bed, head turning toward you. “Is it though? Stuck down here with me, and I can’t even be by your side half the time. I doubt this is the life you- anyone would dream of.”
“I miss you, of course I do. But I chose this life. I chose you.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have.”
The tears well in your eyes before you can stop them, and Idia’s panic only rises once he notices.
“Gah!! No, MC, please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it like that. Sevens, I’m so stupid.” Idia awkwardly pulls you into his arms, and you begin wipe your tears onto his shoulder as you settle down.
“Sorry, I-I don’t know what came over me,” you sniffle.
“Don’t apologize, it was my fault. I don’t know why, every time I try to tell you how I feel, it always just comes out wrong. I try to tell you that I love you, that you deserve better than to be stuck here with me, and it comes out like that.”
“Idia…I know what you meant, it just took me by surprise to hear those words.”
“Loving you is supposed to be the one thing I can do to make your life here better, and I can’t even do it right.”
“Says who? Don’t you think I should be the judge of that?”
“I made you cry, MC! Something is wrong with me…”Idia’s cheeks flush pink as he stares at his feet.
You want to comfort him, to tell him that it doesn’t matter, but you quickly feel yourself being pulled away. You’ve never wished more than to have a few more moments in a vision.
-
The room remains silent for a minute after the vision ends, the both of you trying to process what had happened.
“Idia…” you say, trying to bridge the gap between you, but not exactly knowing how.
“Maybe- I uh - maybe you should leave?” Idia says sheepishly.
“Leave? What did I do?” you say, feeling a bit hurt by his suddenly rejection.
“Nothing! I just- I’m sorry, I need some time. I can’t speak right now, I need to be alone.” Idia is clearly panicked, so you follow his brother to the exit.
“Sorry, MC,” Ortho says, opening the door for you. “Sometimes Idia gets overwhelmed in situations like this. Please, give him time and…please don’t give up on him like everyone else does.”
vii. sun and moon, forever in orbit; malleus draconia
You’ve known Malleus as long as you’ve known Riddle, but despite your blooming friendship, you’ve never had the chance to touch him before. The fae always seemed to prefer to keep his distance when visiting you at Ramshackle; close enough to talk, too far to touch.
That all changes when you finally agree to join the gargoyle studies club. It’s not as though you’d purposefully avoided it before, there’d just always been too much going on to really think about joining any of the clubs.
With Idia shutting you out, you were in dire need of a new hobby that would allow you to finally avoid thinking about what had gone down with him in the days before.
When Malleus finally strolls by Ramshackle again, you’re able to inform him of your intention to join his club.
It’s a remarkable thing, having stunned the fae prince into momentary silence at your request. He furrows his brow before replying.
“I do hope you aren’t making a joke at my expense, prefect. That would be rather cruel of you.”
You wave away his words, telling him that you’re entirely serious. He looks you up and down for a moment before a playful grin pulls at his lips.
“I suppose I will see you in our meeting on thursday, then. Please, don’t be late. We have much to see.”
-
Weekly meetings become bi-weekly, and soon you’re meeting up with Malleus almost daily. Since it’s only the two of you in the club, you take certain liberties when it comes to subject matter. You agree to let Malleus show you some ruins and he, in turn, agrees to watch the bachelor with you.
You don’t even like the show, but Malleus’ reactions are the real entertainment. He’s surprisingly sassy and opinionated about all the drama, although he tends to get confused on ‘human customs’ as he so puts it.
“Why won’t he make a choice? It’s clear who he truly desires,” Malleus asks one day, sitting on Ramshackle’s beat up couch as you watch the reality show together on your laptop.
“I don’t know, the guys on this show are always like this. They want to keep around as many options as possible until they’re forced to choose,” you mumble, mouth full of popcorn.
“Human men are fickle.”
You laugh. “Fae aren’t?”
He takes a moment to answer. “Some. Not dragon fae. Once we choose a person to love, we give everything to them, and expect the same in return.”
You don’t know how to reply to that, so you turn back to the screen. Throughout the rest of the episode, you can feel Malleus’ gaze flicker between yourself and the show, not fully invested like you are.
-
You’re not oblivious to his hints. It’s clear that things between you are become more than friendly, but it’s difficult to know how you feel about it.
On one hand, Malleus has always felt strangely charming to you, despite how he often came off to others. There was something about him, or perhaps just the sum of his parts that came together perfectly to make him into a wonderful being.
Spending time together and getting close felt nice, but you were far too used to this pattern to not feel worried about some kind of impending doom. It seemed every time you had a nice friendship, things would fall apart as soon as you found out about your future together.
Even when pleasant, the strangeness of the experience makes it uncomfortable to be around them again. You’ve felt bad avoiding your friends, but there isn’t much you can do to change your feelings.
Even worse - what if your vision with Malleus isn’t positive? After what you saw with Idia, the fear lingers in your mind.
Once you opened the gate, questions begun to flood your brain. What would a future be like with Malleus? Would that even be possible? Would you be his consort? Would a relationship between a human and fae be accepted? Would you be able to handle it? The anxieties were endless.
You think about telling him about everything. About Riddle, Leona…but how would he react? You tell yourself that it’s better if he doesn’t know. At least not until after.
He’s the first one you touch on purpose; you have to know.
A casual stroll around Ramshackle leads to the purposeful brushing of fingers, and you’re pulled into a familiar haze.
-
You’ve never been to Briar Valley, but you know with certainty that your vision takes place there.
The hall you sit in is long, gold trims running along the walls. The black dragon heraldry mounted above the fireplace at the end of the room looks more expensive than anything you’ve seen in your life.
Two wide doors swing open, and Malleus finally enters the room. He isn’t alone.
A small black shape zooms past his legs, plopping itself in front of you.
“Daddy and I picked you flowers from the garden!”
The blur isn’t some shadow, but instead a small child. Five or six, if you had to guess. If her words didn’t give away her parentage, the small, stubby horns peaking out from the top of her head of dark hair certainly told you this was Malleus’ daughter.
“Thank you, sweetie.” You smile at her, taking the flowers she drops in your hand. There’s still some dirt and roots attached, but she’s so adorable, you truly don’t mind.
“Can Uncle Silver take me horseback ridding today?” she asks you. “Daddy said it’s okay with him if it’s okay with you.” She blinks at you sweetly.
“Alright, I suppose. Just be careful, dear,” you reply.
“I have the best parents in all the kingdoms!” she shouted, running along to her chambers to get ready, leaving only you in Malleus in the room.
“She’s so lively today,” you comment, looking up at him.
“Indeed,” he replies, coming to rest beside you. “You look beautiful, my love.”
“And you, my king.”
The two of you share a kiss. It’s all so - dizzying. It’s not unexpected to have a child with Malleus - you had one with Riddle, but this is different. This child is older, she knows you, she feels so real.
He pulls away to smile at you. “I have a gift for you.”
“What’s the occasion?”
“Need there be one for me to celebrate my wonderful spouse?”
“I suppose not. Thank you, Malleus. No matter how many gifts you give, I will treasure them all.”
He pulls out a box from his pocket, asking you to turn around. You feel him guide a cold band around your neck, clasping it in the back. He then places a small, handheld mirror in your hands, urging you to look.
The necklace he’s given you is beyond stunning. It’s silver, with a dazzling gemstone in the middle. You don’t even want to ponder how much it must’ve cost.
You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror.
It’s strange - seeing yourself much older when Malleus looks the same. It unsettles you more than you’d like to admit. It’s one thing to know you’ll age at different rates and another to see it with your own eyes.
This must be something on your mind in the future as well, because of the next thing you decide to ask Malleus.
“Will I see her grow up? For me, it feels like she’s been young forever. I love it and yet…I want to see more of her life than just this.”
He doesn’t ask who you’re referring to. “You will. You’ll see most. I was practicing mature by my eighty-first birthday.”
You sigh. “I may not even get that far. I’m healthy now, but who knows. The curses of being human…”
He tilts your chin to face him. “It is not a curse to me, my love. I chose you, and I would again.”
There’s infinitely more to discuss, but you already feel yourself slipping away.
-
You come to from the vision mid walk. Malleus is unaffected, seemingly still in the middle of one of his explanations behind the rich history of one of gargoyles you’d just passed by.
When he notices your silence and turns to ask if you’re alright, you have no response for him.
It seems almost selfish, for you to choose him. Why- why did there need to be so many things wrong? Why did you have to be human, to pain him and your future children by leaving them behind so early?
The joy and the pain - would it all truly be worth it? Or would it be better for it to have never happened?
Malleus looks at you with concern, wiping the tears suddenly cascading down your cheeks.
“What’s wrong, my child of man?”
Everything and nothing, you want to tell him.
viii. all things end, all that we intend; conclusion
Seven beautiful souls, all potential endings. Every future you glimpsed has it’s own charms, and it’s own poisons.
Which future will you choose? One of them? Or perhaps…another?
More Posts from Hazyspells and Others
haikyuu feeling clingy after work and y/n not being home
featuring: miya atsumu, kozume kenma, bokuto koutarou, and tsukishima kei
warnings: none, sfw, bad pet names, perhaps too fluffy
haikyuu x g/n reader
a/n: tumblr really tried its hardest to make the formatting on this post as difficult as possible
masterlist
part 2 with iwaizumi hajime, terushima yuji, akaashi keiji, and sakusa kiyoomi
part 3 with daichi sawamura, kageyama tobio, kita shinsuke, and oikawa tooru
part 4 with suna rintarou, kyoutani kentarou, and kuroo tetsurou
thank you for reading <3
The Prince
Prince!Iida x Tutor!Reader
Fluff, Pining, Humor, Slight Angst (?)
Words: 5K
Warnings: Brief mention of blood/assassins
The floor rumbles beneath dozens of pairs of shoes and even though it’s almost completely covered, you catch flashes of the polished wood between songs. It shimmers, reflecting back the lights of the chandelier, twinkling brightly enough to rival the stars. However beautiful and spectacular it all seemed though, you still missed spending hours alone, watching the real stars. Your work in Inginea had left you with very little time to explore; your nights usually consisted of preparing lessons and lectures deemed fitting for members of the royal family. It would be nice to spend time outdoors again, to feel the cool night air tickle your nose, making the hairs on the back of your neck rise. Then again, the next time you experienced that, you’d likely be standing on the deck of some ship that was homeward bound, carrying you far away from this place and its people. That part wasn’t so nice. In fact, it was downright depressing.
You’re jolted from your self-pity when you recognize a familiar face from across the dancefloor. You hadn’t expected to meet Iida here tonight, but you can’t say that it’s a shock to see him standing there, seeming uncharacteristically frazzled as he sidles through the mass of swirling bodies surrounding him.
It’s his posture that gives him away; no common person ever made such an effort to keep his shoulders so far back, his chin so steeply angled upward, his feet so firmly planted—like he was imitating the oaks lining the perimeter of the castle gates. No, the decorum with which this man carried himself was the sort that they only taught royalty—only taught princes. You grin and begin to shimmy your way through the crowd.
It takes more than a few gentle nudges and one less-than-subtle shove, but you eventually brave the chaos and reach him. To his credit, Iida’s disguise was spot-on. There wasn’t a sign of his family’s sigil on any of his garments. No royal blue doublet covering his chest, no moonstone pendants gracing his neck; he had obviously gone out of his way to pass himself off as common—a near-impossible feat given the fact that the man practically oozed refinement. Still, the laces of his shirt are frayed now and his britches stained. If you hadn’t known his face so well, you might’ve thought him a stablehand and not the next in line for his father’s throne.
“It’s a pleasant surprise to see you this far from the palace, sir.” You greet him, careful to avoid using his true title. Iida flinches when you address him, but then he squints and realizes it’s only you. He frowns.
“Was I really that easy to pick out of the crowd? I was certain that this time, my attire was—”
“It wasn’t your attire that betrayed you.” Had anyone from the palace witnessed the way you’d interrupted the crown prince, you might’ve received your dismissal much earlier than you intended to. Then again, others might have been wholly more apathetic towards the situation. Everyone was still rather confused when it came to the proper way of addressing each of the princes. After all, Tenya Iida was the younger of the Iida brothers. He’d been raised with the same careful care and instruction as his brother all his life, for no reason other than tradition. Because originally, Tenya wasn’t supposed to be the next king.
“To the average person, yes, you look perfectly ordinary. But me? I know you too well for that. I also don’t know a single lordling that puts so much effort into the way he stands. It was a noble effort though. Well-thought-out.”
You nod him away from the crowd with your chin, leading him towards a quieter corner of the hall. Nobody bats an eye. The common people knew of their king and queen, yes, but the royal children were another matter altogether. Tensei’s face had been woven into banners lining the wall in the days leading to his coronation, so at least a few would recognize him. Tenya had no banners, and thus, no face as far as the public was concerned. That would change soon enough, though.
It wasn’t uncommon for assassins to be sent after royalty. Enemies to the crown, families of those accused of treason, even other princes and princesses had all been historically known to hire men to “do away with” their opponents. What wasn’t common was for these killers-for-hire to make it past the palace walls—to make it to the crown prince ’s chamber, unseen. Nobody but Tensei could know for certain what occurred that fateful night, but castle gossip would have you believe a dozen versions of the same story, all with the same conclusion: an assassin lying in a pool of their own blood and a prince that was now crippled from the waist down.
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dialogues: look me in the eye
❀ timeskip! miya osamu, suna rintarō x gn! reader
summary: you can’t seem to look your crush in the eye
miya osamu
you were seated on one of the counter seats at onigiri miya. the closed sign turned out. osamu leaning over the counter.
“you look at my brother just fine and we’re identical twins.”
“he’s different! i don’t…”
“don’t?”
"i just don’t know you as well as him,” you said, lying through your teeth.
he raised his brow, the slight ghost of a smirk gracing his lips, “hmm, you barely see him though?”
“well it’s just,” fumbling through your worlds, “time is not indicator of quality.”
he laughed amused, walking over to you before slowly leaning in, caging you between his arms and the counter, his grey eyes boring into yours as you felt a heat rising in your cheeks, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach, trying desperately to turn away.
“yn, let’s try this one more time okay?” his voice gentle as he titled your chin towards him, eyes meeting his again, a calloused thumb dragging along your cheek. “why won’t you look me in the eye?” half lidded gaze trained on yours in anticipation.
you were locked in with nowhere to escape, defenceless against his captivating eyes, feeling yourself sinking deeper into the pools of grey, “i…i like you,” you whispered, eyebrows furrowed, “okay? you happy now? you jerk,” lips pressed into a line.
he broke into a wide cheeky grin. “now that wasn’t so hard was it?” he removed his cap, wearing it on you before squeezing the top of your head and patting it affectionately.
“ow, that hurts samu,” you pouted.
“i like you too dummy,” he chuckled.
suna rintarō
laugter resonated from your corner booth as you giggled at some stupid thing the twins were bickering about. suna sat beside you, a lazy arm hung over your shared booth seat as he side-eyed your cheery expression.
the twins having been forewarned to leave a little earlier so suna could finally talk to you alone, came up with some excuse and sciddled away.
you kept it up your facade, asking him some questions about volleyball, small talk, though you were never able to hold his gaze for more than 3 seconds.
in contrast, his faded emerald eyes never left you as you eagerly scrambled to calm your ferocious beating heart. the quickening pulse fuelled by a reluctant combination of excitement and anxiousness as his attention continued to be undisturbed, solely fixated on you.
you fiddled with the ends of your top, sipping more of your drink again, but in your moment of haste, condensation lubricating whatever friction, the cup slips, cold liquid spashing, drenching suna’s top and torso.
in shock you manage to choke out a string of apologies, frantically gathering up tissues to clean your mess despite suna’s reassurance that he was okay.
“bold now are we?” his lip curving into a small smirk as he peered down at you. aggressively dabbing a damp spot on his chest.
“shut up just don’t want your coach complaining if i got you sick or something,” you pouted, grabbing a few more fresh tissues.
“how about this. i’ll forgive you for spilling something so cold on a little ole athlete like me and you tell me why you never look me in the eye.” he proposed, face inching closer towards yours.
“i look! sometimes….” you tried defending yourself before quickly averting your eyes.
“yn, look at me,” his voice soft as your head hung low, still shaking your head defiantly.
“you’re too attractive. you make my heart feel weird,” you grumbled, frown deepening as you looked up to see a wide smile on his face.
“so you have a crush on me huh?” he pinched your cheek, tugging it a little.
“i never said that!” you huffed, swatting his hand away, rubbing the sore apples of your cheek.
“you soo do yn,” he teased as you crossed your arms indignantly.
“well at least it’s convenient, because i have the biggest crush on you too,” he grinned.
sol’s comments ❀: have a great weekend cuties and sorry i always post things at 12am LOL. also this was supposed to include issei :((
m.list ·˚ ༘ ꒱ | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)
A group of rough looking boys walked past me today and all I heard of their conversation was “he’s got that anxiety disorder bro so I went with him so he’d be more comfortable” and it made me realise the world isn’t all that bad
Hello! If your ask box isn't open, please ignore this I couldn't find anything that said if It is or not, but can I request Xiao, Gorou, Kazuha, Venti, and Aether if you write for him, with a fem reader who is very self conscious and their weight, having big breasts and stretch marks ? You don't have to add all of it or just whatever you'd like, I'm feeling very insecure rn and I love your work so I thought I'd send in a request.
Anyways I hope you're having a wonderful Day/Night and stay hydrated and healthy <3
All my love, Rose 🌹
#you are beautiful
—where you’re self-conscious about your body
CHARACTERS. Gorou, Kazuha, Xiao
THEMES. hurt with comfort. with angst. with fluff.
WARNINGS. anxiety, being self-conscious (without any real specifications)
NOTES. this is quite late i know,,, my head has been aching since earlier and i couldn’t come up with anything for a long time. however after playing my xiao playlist in the background the words just came pouring in. i hope you guys like this! this is one of the most emotional stuff i’ve written here so pls be careful! also, i only put 3 characters because i wanted to get this out immediately and since it’s also in my rules,, no matter how much i wanna write more. also, i hope this would be able to help somehow, rose! thank you sm for requesting<33
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GOROU knows that something is wrong but he couldn’t seem to figure out what it is. You pull away whenever he tries to embrace you; avoid whenever he tries to reach out for your waist; and above all, he misses you and your touch.
He’s a straightforward man, and he wants to get to the middle of the situation before it gets worse, thus it wasn’t long before he was pulling you aside privately and asking you directly how you were.
“Is there something wrong, honey? You’ve been acting… odd lately. I’m here if you want to talk to me.”
He didn’t know what to expect, but he softened up when you finally told him about the thoughts that ran through your head lately, the shadows that creeped your mind and pushed him away at the same time.
Without a moment to lose, he slips his hands on your waist, gently pulling you close and carefully peppering your face with gentle kisses. Unlike any other time, he was slow, letting you relish on how his lips press on your cheeks, temples, the bridge of your nose, the corners of your eyes, and even on your jaw. Unraveled, you were, but all was silent in this very moment, with him helping you learn how to slowly love yourself [again].
“It must have been tough on you, huh? I apologize for only noticing this now, my love. You are worth more than just your outside appearance, but if I were asked, you are the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life. You deserve more recognition than you think.”
KAZUHA notices how distant you have been these past few days. He watches and continues to observe you to see what seems to be the problem. The way you crossed your arms, look away when he’s professing his love for you, and even avoids his kisses. He can still kiss you, but whenever he tries to pull you deeper, you push him away.
He respects you, he does, but something doesn’t feel right.
For one last time, he whispers in your ear, “My dove, the love of my life, have I told you how much I love you today?”
The words lingered in your brain far longer than it should and sooner, you broke and gave him the answers to his questions—the worries that filled your mind these past few days and prevented you from accepting any kind of affection that he had always given.
With a gentle kiss on your nose, he then leans his forehead on yours, “Your beauty encompasses any other I’ve ever seen my entire life, no matter what you or the others say, this fact remains in my mind, and I wouldn’t mind having to remind you that everyday and every moment of our lives.”
XIAO, above everyone else, is the most concerned. Not only was he confused as to what seems to be the problem, but he also doesn’t know how to address it without having to look insensitive of your mortal feelings. He’s not like you, and that was exactly what he feared of—to hurt you without meaning to; inside and out.
He wanted to reach out, wanted to hold you and be there for you, but what if he was the problem? What if he’s the reason why you’re feeling this way?
Yet, he couldn’t just give up on you like that. He is a weapon, he cannot desert you just like that.
So he decides to confront you about it, standing face to face under the moonlight on the balcony of Wangshu Inn. He prepares himself for the onslaught of the battlefield, but he could have never expected the sharpness of the sword that you had been fighting with all this time, all alone.
He holds your weary and tired body, letting all the cries of your heart and soul about your insecurities fall onto the wind and out into the open. He is not human, he cannot comfort you the way humans could, but he is your weapon. He doesn’t like seeing you this way. If he had to defeat even the negative thoughts in your mind, he would. For you.
He held the back of your head, a sign of reassurance, maybe? Or was it a way to ridicule the voices that pull you into the darkness?
“Foolish human, you are more beautiful than how you think you are. What you see on the outside is not the only basis for such things. How else do you think you’ve tamed even an Adepti like me?”
TAGLIST (pls send an ask to be added)
@softlybeloved @rim0na @icecappa @simplyxkashi @scaraslover @beastielevi @cursedraiden @thesatanofpizza @izayanna @stellumi @coco-goat-milk @nonniechan
thinkin bout boss!osamu who gets a little shy around you because he doesn’t want you to think he’s some creep who hired you just because he thinks you’re pretty (but god does he think you’re pretty). who stammers and tries to keep a polite distance and smiles soft and warm and helps you tie your apron when you ask (and has to internally scream at himself to make sure his fingers don’t linger at the small of your back longer than necessary). who lets you work whatever schedule you want and maybe gives you more free meals and bigger discounts than he originally planned for employees and makes you wait on him as he locks up so you don’t walk to your car alone at night. who is a good boss and a great man and totally, completely baffled when you ask him if it would be unprofessional to want to kiss your boss as you stand outside of onigiri miya after closing. (and who doesn’t even give you an answer, just fumbles to kiss you instantly, dropping his keys to lock up in the process).
The Hand
summary; the time you almost broke the internet
♡ pairing; k.kenma x gn!reader
♡ genre; fluff
♡ w.c; 1.9k
♡ warnings; swearing
a/n; happy belated birthday kenken <3
*this fic is a part of my ‘five ways to say i love you’ mini-series. check out the other stories here!
You are lovingly dubbed as “The Hand.”
The almighty mysterious being that appears on and off-screen whenever Kodzuken needs something— water, snacks… a poke on the forehead. The fans have never seen your face— not even heard your voice. The only parts they’ve been privy to are the little scar on your arm from a bike accident when you were a kid, and the bombass manicure you’re sporting that week.
Until now, that is.
The stream starts off like any other— the only difference being the unusually early start time. It’s Kenma’s first charity event, a 24-hour stream that starts at 6 am and ends at 5:59 am the next day to raise money for children who didn’t have access to sports or fitness opportunities.
“Hey everyone,” Kenma says around a yawn when he starts. He’s in a hoodie (his own merch) and sweats (also his own merch) and he rubs one eye while sipping on his first coffee of the day. “Hope you’re ready cause I’m not.”
You stifle your giggle as you walk over to him, a blanket in hand. You reach around the back of one of the monitors and drop it on his head. He grunts on impact. “Thanks,” Kenma says with a smile when he pulls the material into his lap, remnants of sleep still stuck along his lashes. You nearly coo and the chat bursts to life.
look at him smiling!! kjdfhsdkfkasjdlaks
It’s The Hand! Good Morning Hand! 👋👋👋
loving the new mani 🥺
sleepy ken-ken is my fav omgggg
i luv rage ken-ken more lol
His golden eyes flicker across the screens, coffee clutched in his hand. “The chat says good morning,” Kenma says and you wave. He reads a few more messages with a small quirk of the lip. He peers at you over the rim of his cup. “Can you wave to the viewers?”
You raise an eyebrow but lean over to sway your arm from side to side in front of the camera as he slips on his blue light glasses. You can see the dual screens reflecting off of them, the chat is going crazy. You eventually leave the room, blowing Kenma a kiss and a thumbs up.
You amble to your bedroom and settle down into bed, face buried into your pillow and one arm wrapped around your cat Rover, who mewls and snuggles deeper into the comforter. You wake up a few hours later and open the streaming app on your phone to see what Kenma is up to. You grin when you see he's playing Animal Crossing. He’s working on your shared island, de-weeding, and figuring out what to do for his fall/Halloween theme. After watching for a few more minutes, you stretch then roll out of bed.
You peek your head into the streaming room after swinging by the kitchen to find Kenma focused on one of the monitors. You lightly tap the doorframe to get his attention. He glances up. “Hey,” he says as you pick up his empty water glass and replace it with a fresh one. You take his coffee mug and place a bowl of apple slices on the table. The corners of his lips curve upward. “Thank you.”
The day progresses as such— you check up on his stream before appearing every once in a while to give him water, energy drinks, or food. Kenma comes by and gives you a kiss or a hug during his bathroom breaks, and once he takes his first fifteen-minute break, he collapses on the couch next to you.
“How are you doing?” You ask, brushing away his bangs. He sighs and turns his head to kiss your palm.
“M’tired,” he complains. “I don’t know how I’m going to do this for another seventeen hours.”
You chuckle as Rover jumps on him and kneads his stomach. “Take a nap.”
Kenma shakes his head. “If I do that, I won’t wake up,” he says. “I’m regretting this already.”
“Think of the children,” you say, pinching his cheek. He swats at your hand.
“Yeah,” Kenma grumbles, “It’s for the kids.”
He gets off your lap when he has five minutes to spare, leaning forward until his lips are barely touching yours. “Thanks for taking care of me while I do this,” he murmurs. You grin.
“Of course, Ken-ken. I’ll get another pot of coffee going.”
A few more hours go by— your hand pops in and out of the screen, the chat says hello. Kenma blinks up at you when you come by to switch his cups. Despite the copious amounts of caffeine, he looks tired and you frown at him. He notices the look but shakes his head. “I’m fine,” he insists.
And before you know it, it’s 5 am. You can barely keep your eyes open as you stand in front of the kettle. You’ve decided to power through the last bit with Kenma, keeping the streamer engaged with tea now that he’s passed your accepted limit of coffee and energy drinks. The whistle of the kettle makes you jump and you quickly move it off the burner. You pour the hot water into two mugs and add a teabag to each. You carefully carry them to the gaming room.
Kenma jolts when you place the mugs on the table. You narrow your eyes at him and mouth ‘are you okay?’ He nods, though it takes him a minute.
“Almost done,” he sighs, taking off his glasses and leaning back in his chair. Kenma lifts one of the cups to his lips. When you roll his extra gaming chair over, just out of frame, he quirks an eyebrow at you. “Are you gonna camp out with me?” You smile at him as you nod, leaning forward to grab your mug before settling down.
“You sure? We still have…” he checks the time. “Fifty minutes.” You nod again and motion to his computer— he's forgotten about his audience in the midst of talking to you. He winces. “Sorry guys,” he says, turning back to his monitors. He squints as he reads. “Yeah, it’s my partner… they will be here for the last stretch.” He chuckles at one of the messages and reads it aloud. “Will The Hand finally be The Face Reveal?”
You place your hand over your mouth to silence your laugh before taking a sip of your tea. “Hmm let’s see…” Kenma taps his finger on the rim of his drink. “Since we already hit the regular goal, if we can reach the stretch goal, then they will make an appearance.” He glances at you for confirmation and you shrug.
Though Kenma had raised a considerable amount, there was still a substantial amount left to meet the stretch goal, especially for the last forty-five minutes of the stream. It probably wasn't going to happen so you agree and kick the floor, slowly twirling in the seat as you scroll through your phone, and half-listen as he plays Minecraft, the last game of the stream.
The streamer stifles a yawn as he checks the time. “Five minutes left…” he looks over at the fundraising website pulled up on the other screen. “Wow guys, this is amazing.” He smiles sleepily at the camera. “We didn’t make it to the face reveal goal but that's cool. I’ll be giving away merch to the highest donator and have a random draw—“ His eyes grow wide as he immediately pauses. “Wait… guys don’t donate if you can’t afford it, it’s okay.”
You look up from your phone to find Kenma staring at his computer, hands hovering above his keyboard. You click on the streaming app. Last-minute donations are flooding in, the notifications won’t stop.
WE CAN DO THIS!!!
do it for the face reveal!
don’t feel obligated to donate, if u can’t afford it!!
The hand’s face the hand’s face the hand’s face the hand’s face
What a fucking mess 😂
hi from seoul! 🇰🇷
omg lol this is so chaotic
You watch as the donated amount goes up, up, up...
It’s silent as the number on the screen bursts into a cloud of confetti. Balloons fill the screen as the words "CONGRATULATIONS!" stare back at you. Kenma looks at you. You look at him. And then you burst into laughter. The chat explodes once more.
Did you hear that?! Was that them???
omg they sound so cute im already sobbing 😭
AHHH WE DID IT 🎉
HAND HAND HAND FACE FACE FACE ✋🗣
Kenma mutes his mic and turns to you. “You don’t have to do this,” he says. “Really, I kind of threw you in without asking first.”
You tug on the collar of your hoodie, Kodzuken merch, and smile at him as you brush your fingers through your hair to hopefully look more presentable. A flutter of butterflies frantically beat around in your stomach, anticipation waking you up better than any amount of coffee and energy drinks can. “It’s fine,” you tell him. “We were going to do this at some point so I don’t mind." You grimace when you catch a knot. "Sorry I look like a mess.”
Kenma smiles softly at you, hand reaching out to detangle the strands. “You always look beautiful to me.”
“Wow, sleep-deprived Kodzuken has reached a new level,” you tease and drag him closer to press your lips to his. You can’t even imagine what the chat must look like right now. “Go ahead, I’ll come on whenever you want me to.”
Kenma nods then give you one more kiss. He turns back to the webcam. “Alright,” he breathes. “I don’t know how you guys pulled through at the last minute, but we did it. Firstly, thank you so much to everyone who donated. This charity means a lot to me so I’m grateful to everyone who contributed, whether it was a dollar or a hundred.” He glances at you and you roll your chair closer to him. “As promised, I would like to introduce you to, 'The Hand.'”
You stick your hand out and wave, laughing after a moment of reading through the comments. “I’m kidding,” you say as you roll your chair in the frame. It's weird to be on this side of the monitors.
The chat nearly breaks, unable to keep up with the multitude of comments that flood in. You respond to a few, tittering and bantering as Kenma leans his head against your shoulder, slips his hand into yours. You reach around his head to pet his hair. “We should probably end it here,” you whisper. “Maybe we can do something like this again. Thanks to everyone who participated!” Kenma lethargically waves before ending the stream. He groans and pushes his chair back.
“Bed. Now.”
You allow him to drag you out of the gaming room and to the bedroom. Rover is already there, curled up on Kenma's pillow. He moves out of the way when Kenma nudges him gently to the side, curling around the streamer's head when he settles. You giggle and slip in as well. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you to him until you're flush against his body.
“I know I already said this a lot, but thanks again for taking care of me today," he says, squeezing you a little tighter. "Promise to return the favor later."
You grin against his collarbone. "No worries, just get some sleep."
He murmurs something incoherent, fast asleep when you whisper, "Night, Ken-ken.”
You're awoken several hours later to your phone blowing up. When you tap on the screen and check the first notification, the title makes you chuckle.
New Video!! Koduzen and The Hand nearly break the internet.
reblogs appreciated <3
request: y/n and suna come back from an event that went on too long and she’s too tired to do her skincare and change so he does it for her? i love seeing the pinterest couple pics where the girl is sitting on the counter and he’s brushing her teeth and washing her face for her 💗💗 ty so much for your consideration 🥰
suna rintaro • love sick
“wait just a second, princess.” suna instructed you, his right hand opening his car door as he spoke.
you halted your movements, pausing the action of unbuckling your seatbelt out of obedience for him. you already assumed what he was going to do, it was a unwritten rule of his every time the two of you went out.
your hands tuckered back into your lap as you watched him exit the car, catching him sending a wink your way as he shut the driver door, leaving you alone in the warm interior as he jogged around the front of the car, nearly slipping on ice ungracefully.
you let out a worried yelp at the slip of his foot, but was soon relieved when he grinned at you as a way of reassurance.
“jesus.” you mumbled to yourself, nearly having a heart attack just then.
rintaro walked it off like nothing had happened, smoothly recomposing himself for your view only. if it wasn’t for the freezing temperatures, you would have been able to notice the bright blush on his cheeks from embarrassment. but he played himself off well, as usual.
when he got to your side of the car, he hesitated slightly before opening the door. it would be cold out here for you, and you were exhausted, nearly spent already from socializing all night with friends. the sudden, harsh winter air would make you displeased and shivering for a few fleeting moments before entering the house, and suna just couldn’t have that.
he couldn’t have his precious princess be cold for any more than a millisecond or else he’s be very disappointed within himself.
deciding what his solution would be, he help up one finger at you through the window, signaling for you to be patient for one moment and he’d explain the change of plans later.
“what?” you questioned him, but he could only read your lips through the thick glass.
“one minute, baby. i’m going to go do something really quickly, hold on.” he halfheartedly explained.
you understood what you needed to in order to ask no more questions— both exhausted and lack of communication being a result.
your eyes followed him as he walked to the front door of your shared home, unlocking it and entering the house before shutting the door behind him after blowing you a gentle kiss for good measure, a way of telling you that everything is okay and he’ll be back shortly.
you sat back in the seat tiredly, the heated interior keeping you in a nice warm hug while you waited for him.
after only a few fleeting moments, you had forgotten about rintaro and found yourself falling into a soft slumber.
“c’mon, sweet girl, let’s get you inside.”
you awoke slightly when strong arms wrapped around your body, closely holding you tightly to his chest to secure and comfort you as he lifted you carefully out of the car, nudging the door closed with his knee once your were fully outside and safe in his arms.
“rinnie?” you sleepily mumbled, your eyes still closed gently as you called out to him.
he glanced down at you as he began to walk up the driveway, a small smile on his face at your sleepy state.
“yes, princess?”
“are we in bed, yet?”
he chuckled, causing his chest to rumble and you to whine at the vibrations against your body.
“not yet, special one. i’m carrying you inside— you fell asleep in the car.” he answered as he walked into the warm house, you wrapped in blanket in tow.
you stirred slightly at the change of lighting, the dark night sky in contrast to the warm yellow light the living room lamp provided becoming noticeable to you.
your eye were still shut, too tired to open them and welcome light in as you stayed bundled in your boyfriend’s arms.
“gonna have to set you on the couch, okay, pretty girl? i have to take our shoes off.” suna explained, his voice soft as he spoke at you, his eyes taking in your resting face.
you tiredly mumbled a barely coherent ‘yes’ in response, your cute cozy voice causing rintaro’s heart to swell and his stomach to warm up in pure happiness.
how he got to lucky with you was beyond him, but he wouldn’t trade you for the world. every little quirk of your’s had him tripping over his two feet in adoration, much to your disbelief. he didn’t care if you believed him though, because he could feel it in his bones the each centimeter of you was beautiful— especially now as you drool sleepyly in his arms.
he walked a few feet in front him, stopping to crouch down and ever so gently set you down on the velvet couch he had bought a few months prior as a anniversary present. your previous couch had been stained by your newly potty trained puppy and you were heartbroken over it, but as always, suna knew just what to do to cheer his princess up once more.
the feeling of a soft cushion cradling your head had you nuzzling into the feeling, rubbing your flushed cheek against a throw pillow that suna placed there for under your head before lying you down.
a few moments passed before you were scooped up carefully again, your favorite blanket wrapped cozyly around you, granting you infinite warmth.
“alright, princess. now it’s time for bed.” he sighed, relieved.
you were too tired to understand much, only the nickname kissing your ears like a song. but, you trusted that rintaro would do whatever was in your best interest no matter how sleepy you were.
he made his way to the bedroom, continuing to carry you effortlessly throughout the house as you slept peacefully in his arms. he often glanced down at you, finding a small proud smile on his face as he did so.
you were everything to him, nothing else mattered when he was around you. his only focus in those moments were taking the best care of you that he could and making sure you were safe and happy. all of which you seemed to be in this moment.
rintaro watched you thrive tonight as you spoke to all of your friends at the holiday party, and he couldn’t have been seen happier in the corner. his face held a grin all night, a proud smile he wore for everyone to see as they passed him by. the other guests probably assumed that he was one of two things: either high or just had the best sex of his life— but he wasn’t even close to their unclean thoughts. suna rintaro was lovesick, so lovesick that you surrounded his whole night— even on the rare occasion that you were out of his protective sight. you occupied his thoughts every minute, the way you spoke to everyone with such kindness and consideration, the way you let some of them cut you off mid sentence but were careful to bite back if someone off hand was said, the way you gave him sweet reassuring glances every two minutes to make sure he was having a good time and welcome to join your conversation whenever, the way you blew him kisses when you passed by him to go into another room— everything about the way you glew at that engagement party had suna feeling like a hopeless romantic.
as he neared the bedroom, only being two steps away from it, you stirred slightly causing him to gently stop momentarily to check on you. this allowed him to also use this as an opportunity to admire your unconscious state.
‘a true sleeping beauty’ he thought to himself.
your eyes were relaxed, an eyelid delicately draped over them like a blanket.
your mouth was open slightly, leaking drool that pooled in the corner of your mouth. the same mouth the suna kissed every morning and night, and dreamed of stealing more when he couldn’t.
but, as he stared down at you, he noticed how dolled up you still were. you still had your makeup on, a tad but smudged but there and your hair was neater than usual.
“fuck.” he whispered under his breath in realization.
the bathroom wasn’t too far from where he was now, just a few feet behind him, but he didn’t want to move too much in fear of waking the sleeping princess. but, he could manage.
carefully, he turned around as smoothly he could without swinging you around in his arms, his sockclad feet skillfully shifting with little to no motion beyond his torso. glancing down at you, suna nearly sighed in relief to find you still sound asleep.
he confidently but carefully took a few steps before making his way to the bathroom.
“rinnie?” you mumbled dreamily.
his heart almost stopped, had not been gently enough?
“yes, princess?”
you opened your eyes, blinking up at him sleepily.
“i still have my dress on and it’s uncomfy.” you whined softly.
he smiled at your cuteness but sympathized with your uncomfortable feeling.
“i know, sweetheart. i’m going to take you into here and get you all cleaned up and ready for bed, okay?”
you pouted but nodded slowly, dreading having to wake soon to get unready.
———
after a few minutes of unexplained moment, you finally opened your eyes to find suna looking down at you as he cradled you in his arms. you quickly recognized that he was standing in your shared bathroom, the familiar dim light of the mirror giving it away.
“hey, beautiful. i have to wash your pretty face off, okay? you have makeup on.” he softly explained when confusion flashed your face.
“oh.”
he smiled and nodded in agreement before leaning over and eventually attempting to sit you up on the counter. little to no words were exchanged between you two as you repositioned, the action being understood by you quickly.
he reached behind your right side, sliding your cleanser forward before giving your nose a soft kiss.
“wait,” you interjected. “i need the makeup remover first before the cleanser…” you corrected.
he nodded understandingly, murmuring a quick ‘thank you, baby’ in return before correcting his almost mistake by placing the larger bottle of micellar water from near the light switch, next to the cleanser.
“this stuff?”
you hummed in agreement, a sleepy haze coating your eyes as he glanced back at you, taking note of how beat you looked. he’ll be sure to get you all nice and tucked in when the two of you finally lay down for the night, the best princess burrito he could muster.
rintaro leaned over closer to you, his strong scent filling the empty air between the two of you causing you to wake slightly but not enough to pull you out of your dozed off state. you’re eyes were open but you had zoned out within the few silent moments, brain foggy and peaceful. his catlike eyes narrowed at you, enjoying the beautiful sight of you so serene. it was like you were an enchantress, your beauty lit up his whole soul, opening him up with light and covering all of his shadowy spots with your glow.
“you’re so fucking beautiful, princess.” he mumbled. “all mine too.”
your lashes fluttered shut, a carelessly swift motion that sent suna’s heart on fire.
“tired.” you groggily mumbled.
“i know, sweet girl. let’s get you all cleaned up, yeah?”
he briefly caressed your hair lovingly before turning the faucet on and squirting a pump of face wash into his open hand.
“one or two pumps?”
you hummed out your answer, a low effort attempt to answer him.
“what was that, princess? gonna have to speak up for me.”
“t-two.”
he obliged, dispensing another glop and lathering it to foam under the running water.
“now, you’re gonna have to wake up a little more, okay? i’m sorry, babygirl, i know you’re tired.” suna gently sympathized, his large callused hands wet with foamy makeup remover.
you let a light whine pass your lips, frustration and exhaustion bubbling in your chest cavity and threatening to flood the bathroom, taking your beautiful boyfriend with it. but, you obliged; opening your bloodshot eyes and being greeted with the domestic sight.
he stood in front of you now, only about two inches of space left between you. his hands were facing up, arms slightly extended to keep the soap from getting on him or dripping everywhere. rintaro’s eyes watched you intently, awaiting your ‘okay’ to wet your face and wash away the day.
but the only thing you could focus on was the scent that filled the air; suna’s scent. the delightful musk of his cologne mixed with fresh linens and a warm scented candle you lit earlier that day embraced your lungs as you breathed in, causing your heart to warm up and a small content smile to graze your lips.
“what’s that pretty smile for?” rintaro asked, his expression mirroring your own.
“just love you so much. feel like home…”
“i feel like home? or this house feels like home?”
you paused, inhaling the comforting aroma once more. this time his icy cologne overpowered the other smells, giving you a nostalgic feeling and a fond memory of yours clouded your vision.
it was late last june, the third summer you had spent with suna wrapped around your finger and this particular night just proved how true that started was. you were sat on this very counter top, your nightgown stained with the green clay mask that suna sloppily applied on your face. your arms were outstretched in front of you, your fingers gently tracing his face and leaving a thick layer of clay trailing behind them with ever inch of skin you graze. his strong hands rested firmly on your hips, thumbs rubbing the clothed skin lovingly.
“is it supposed to sting? because right now it’s stinging.” rintaro asked, his voice filling the silent bathroom.
you chuckled at his childishness, his pain tolerance low.
“yes, just slightly though— nothing harsh. it means it’s working, as long as it isn’t too bad. is it?” you replied.
he shrugged gently, his hands still firmly placed on your generously loved hips. oh, how much he loved your hips.
“nothing major or irritating. just… different.”
you paused the motions of your hands, focusing your attention on the tranquil expression that graced his face. as if he wasn’t already stunning…
his eyes were rested, gently shut and relaxed as you applied the face mask to his already clear face. whispering promises of relaxation and baby soft skin. he trusted you, allowing you to put whatever you desired on him without question.
“you look so pretty, rinnie.”
he chuckled, slightly flattered but used to your compliments by now.
“i bet you look even prettier, princess. my pretty princess.”
your eyes nearly rolled back in ecstasy at the last statement, your tummy infested with butterflies that had just got a sudden burst of energy. 
“my pretty princess.” you tiredly mumbled, the memory of that beloved night leaking into reality accidentally.
he furrowed his brows at you, confused to say the least but sure you had a good reason behind it… at least he hoped.
“what, dollface?”
“you called me your pretty princess the night we did face masks for the first time. don’t you remember?” you explained, hopeful that the memory was dear to him as well.
you and suna were both very madly in love; truly, deeply in love. so in love that both of your friends were so sick of hearing how much you meant to one another, hearing brag upon brag about how amazing the other was. but the worst wasn’t even in conversation— no, it was the way he spoke to you.
you meant the entire world to him, and he was absolutely sure that there was nothing that trumped you in anything; beauty, intelligence, kindness, affection— all of the traits that rintaro was sure you were the best at. his most fond memories of you were selected carefully, hand picked by himself going off of a system he called love.
anytime he felt like his heart was going burst, or when his palms would pool with sweat out of nerves, or whenever you both did something for the first time together— he would hold those special moments as close to his heart as he manage.
so yes, he did in fact remember the particular night you are reminiscing.
“mhm.” he hummed back. “f’ course i remember, sweetie.”
you smiled tiredly, your eyes hardly open but still trying.
“you called me your pretty princess.” you repeated.
suna’s cheeks tinted pink at the way your voice sounded, as if you were dreaming and he was everything you could ever wanted.
and he was.
“i always call you that.” he deadpanned.
why was that particular name sticking to you? it wasn’t an unusual occurrence for those exact words to slip out of his mouth when addressing you, so why were you so hung up on it now?
“yeah- but this was different. you said it like you meant it-“
“i always mean it. always.” his voice was authoritative, as if he was ordering you gently to correct your thoughts.
like a king, ordering his insecure queen to trust his love, demanding that she change her course of thought before he beheads her.
or at least that’s what your groggy mind concocted.
“but this was the first. the first time that i felt you meant it. i could feel the love and security behind your words, even if there were only three of them.”
rintaro was silent, his rough hands foamy and awaiting your approval to wash away the exhausting party. but, he couldn’t think of that right now. all that filled his lovesick brain was how beautifully romantic your soul was, and how it took everything he ever said to heart.
a few fleeting moments passed as he continued to think, a calm silence building in the air before a cheeky grin spread across his face.
“fuck, i just love you so much. you’re so damn fucking sweet, y’know that? my princess is so goddamn sweet and lovely. i just love you. so so much, baby. don’t ever change, please.” suna rambled, a large smile on his face as he spoke.
he placed a kiss to you lips, quick but enchanting before he finally quirked a brow at you, suggesting that he was ready to get this over with. you nodded, consenting him to clean your makeup off at last.
“wet my face a bit first. it’ll come off easier.” you mumbled.
he hissed out a ‘shit’ before rapidly looking around for a washcloth to wet and gently rub on your face to dampen it as you suggested.
you quickly caught on and told him to just rinse off his hands and pat the wetness onto your face before his hands dried.
“are you sure?”
“yes. it’s not like you’re dirty or anything. i suck on your fingers all the time, i’m sure i won’t get any dirtier from this than that.”
he smirked at the mention of his slender fingers in your mouth, suddenly craving the sight and feeling of it. but, he had enough courtesy to wait until before you drifted off in bed soon.
the action wasn’t sexual when you did it, neither of you saw it that way. it was more of a comfort thing for you, and suna sure did enjoy watching you so content just from suckling on his fingers. his.
with a small sigh of self-dissatisfaction, rintaro reached his hand into the sink and nudged the faucet on with his large ring finger.
“suna?”
he ran his hands under the water as he let out a quite hum.
“would it be okay if you could undress me too?”
“of course, princess. i was going to anyway.”
“really? it wouldn’t be weird?”
he furrowed his brows once more.
“why would it, doll? i’ve seen all of you many times, and i adore it. sexually or not.”
your heart swelled.
“what would i do without you?”
he chuckled as his hands turned clean and wet, taking them out of the running sink to wet your face with them.
“nah, sweetheart. the real question is; what would i do without you? my life would be so meaningless without a pretty princess to take care of. who’s door would i open? who’s food would i cut up? who’s pretty feet would i kiss and rub on?” rintaro questioned, taking a pause to place his warm wet hands on your face.
you sighed at the warmth, the water being the perfect temperature for relaxation. plus, his slender hands felt so comforting on your tired face, allowing your eyes to close at the feeling of your cheeks being caressed by your love.
“i love you so much, rinnie.” you mumbled. “thank you for taking such good care of me all of the time. i-i can’t imagine my life without you.”
he huffed out a adoring laugh, leaning down and giving your nose a gentle kiss.
“the pleasure is all mine, sweet girl.”
commas of care,
↳ CHAPTER III. DAYLIGHT
kita shinsuke x reader, 15.7k
SUMMARY: Kita used to dream about being free. But now, he’s 28, years into a career and married to someone he doesn’t know.
series masterlist
a/n: here she is... the final chapter !! i'm getting sentimental about it all over again but writing this chapter was very therapeutic. especially because it touched on the theme of childhood hurt, something i can relate to very well. but alas, i'll save the rest of my speech for my end notes. i hope you enjoy ! the playlist is also finished so check it out from the masterlist <3
Kita doesn’t want to say your first date was life-changing, primarily because you already tease him by actually calling it that.
And to be honest, nothing super drastic has happened after the date to be throwing the word life-changing around.
You both do the same little things, and the structure of your days are essentially the same. Wake up, do your jobs, spend time together, then sleep.
There are changes, though. They're just… more subtle, like somebody had turned on a light and his life glows a tad bit brighter than before.
It's hard to completely articulate how he feels, but all he knows is that the person to thank for all this light is you.
He’s always thought all the movies were so silly for describing love as a thing that narrows the circumference of the world to a single person. It’s still a little silly, Kita thinks, and he’s not quite in love yet. But it would be a lie to say that you don't occupy most of his thoughts throughout the day.
The thought of you puts a certain skip to his step, a little absentmindedness in between meetings, and zeal to be super efficient with his work so he can go home earlier than usual.
He feels a little bit guilty about wanting to go home early, but their division is performing well and they’ve recently secured several high-profile projects. He thinks he’s earned a couple days of going home earlier than usual.
In any case, it’s hard for him to even remember the guilt once he’s home. Not when his wife welcomes him home with hugs and kisses. Some days, he doesn’t even get a chance to take off his shoes before he finds his hands full of you kissing him stupid against the front door. You pull back only after Kita is breathless to ask, “Did you have a good day at work, baby?”
You find yourselves going out for dinner dates more. You found this listing of all the best restaurants in Tokyo, and you've both been slowly but surely going through it. There's this new Vietnamese restaurant you went to recently in Roppongi that you both fell in love with on the list. You're determined to try out everything on the list first before starting to go on repeats, but Kita's hoping you make that one restaurant an exception.
They go on other types of dates too, like this one time you got tickets for an outdoor cinema experience. It played an older movie, one of the first Batman films, and he had brought blankets (so you could sit on the grass) and packed their own food (so they could have a little picnic as they watched).
Another time, they end up at a museum, where you give him the low-down on art history. You walked him down the different exhibits and acted as his own personal tour guide. Kita learned a lot of different artists that day, but he thinks he learned more about you. It’s in the way you talk about different painters that reveal you. How your voice booms with disdain when you talk about Gauguin but drops into soft dulcet tones when you reach Monet and Van Gogh. How you pause to admire a Bernini sculpture before giving him background on who even Bernini was. How you completely skip past the whole section of Medieval art with the excuse, it reminds me of when my mother forced me to go to church.
It’s how they’ve been getting to know each other for the past couple of months and still, he realizes there’s a lot left to learn. It really does feel like they’re in some weird, advanced level of dating, but he doesn’t mind because it’s really fun. All the stupid rules surrounding dating are gone, bulldozed by the fact that you’re already married.
It’s during this time too that he finally gets the chance to paint under your careful instruction.
“Wait,” Kita says, squinting at his canvas, “So what should I do?”
“Whatever you want,” you say from behind your canvas, “Follow your heart, Shin.”
So maybe the instructions were less careful and more vague. Kita stands up to see what you’re doing, “What are you gonna paint?”
“Whatever my heart tells me to,” you say. You look up at him with narrowed eyes, “No, I’m not painting you.”
Kita scoffs, “I wasn’t even going to say that.”
“Uhuh,” you tease, “But since you’re here, wanna give me a kiss?”
“No,” Kita says, walking away back to his place. He acts hurt, “I’m just gonna paint you. If it’s ugly, it’s your fault. You taught me nothing.”
Now it’s your turn to scoff, “This is supposed to be fun. It’s okay if it turns out ugly. You’re not being graded. Just relax, babe.”
Kita rolls his eyes, but he ends up doing what he’s told. Activities like this, where instructions are vague and don’t have a goal, usually stump him, but he takes a deep breath and focuses. He can do this. He can paint the ugliest painting of you and hang it in the living room.
He starts with your head, which is an easy enough thing to paint. You’re a circle on a stick but cuddly at the same time, so maybe he should avoid doing a stick figure. He gets lost in figuring out these tiny details and forgets his surroundings until he hears a phone ring.
“Sorry,” you grimace, silencing the call.
“All good,” Kita says, humming as he goes back to painting. It hasn’t even been a minute until he hears the same ringtone.
You groan, “If a person isn’t answering, it usually means they’re busy. Ugh, leave a voicemail.”
Kita laughs, “Maybe it’s important. Just answer it.”
“No,” You dismiss, “It’s just my agent. They’ve been pestering me to do more work. But I told them I was taking a break and to only bother me for administrative things or charity functions. And I’m already doing people favors.”
Kita frowns, “Maybe you should get a new agent. This one doesn’t seem to respect your wish for time off.”
“I wish,” You sigh, “This one’s pretty good though, and they know what they’re doing. They’re just being pushy because I’ve been avoiding a lot of the public engagements they’ve been asking me to do.”
“Why have you been avoiding them?” Kita asks.
You don't answer immediately. Kita paints while he waits.
“All of them are abroad,” You finally say. “And we haven’t been married for that long, and I didn’t really want to do anything overseas until we got settled in…”
The words make him pause. He puts his brush down and moves his seat, so he can look at you properly when he says, “I really appreciate you, you know that right?”
“Hm?” you make a confused noise. “Where is this coming from?”
“Just wanted you to know since it’s something that I’ve been thinking about a lot, but also just because of what you said. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but every time I find out all these little things you’ve been doing, it just really hammers the point that you’re so considerate of us,” Kita swallows, “And I just appreciate that.”
“Shin,” you say, touched.
“But baby, look at us,” Kita reaches for your hand and you meet him halfway. With your hands clasped together, he says, “This isn’t going anywhere. You don’t have to hold yourself back from these opportunities. You love your work and you deserve to go to all these places and showcase your work. I’ll only feel bad if you keep declining them.”
You exhale, “You’re right.”
Kita smiles, “I know.”
.
.
.
Okay, Kita knows what he said but now he kind of regrets it.
Not because he doesn’t like that you’re off doing great things, but because trips abroad tend to be a couple days long and Kita kind of misses you. That wasn’t a reality he had thought about until he came home from work and you weren't there to greet him. His dinner doesn’t taste as good, eaten alone. Watching tv feels uninteresting without you providing commentary at his side. And worse, when he settles into his own bed at night, he’s cold.
He sighs as he twists and tosses around his bed, unable to sleep. He hates how foreign this bed has become in so little time.
He wonders if he should just sleep on your bed instead, but he wonders if it would be weird without its owner. He doesn’t think you’d mind, considering you’ve been sleeping together every night.
He sighs, slowly getting up and crossing over to your room. It’s not like you’ll know.
.
.
.
Sleeping in your bed helps, but he still misses you.
It feels pathetic, but when you start getting used to having someone in your life, when someone is baked into your routine, you just miss them when they’re gone.
The only thing that consoles him is that you miss him too.
You’re in New York, which is about a thirteen hour time difference. When Kita wakes up, you’re about to sleep, and when Kita is about to sleep, you’re just waking up. There’s barely time throughout the day to talk, unless one of them stays up late or wakes up really, really early.
Which is why he gets surprised when he receives a Facetime call from you as he’s getting ready to go to bed.
“Hello,” He answers as he reaches over to turn a light on.
“Wow,” your sarcasm carries so clearly through their thousands of miles difference. “Can I get a more enthusiastic response? Did you even miss me? Are you even sad? Are you not crying every night at my absence?”
“No,” Kita responds, as he gets comfortable in his bed. He’ll move to your bed after this call. When he hears you go on about how offended you were, he smiles, “Do you miss me?”
You roll your eyes, “No. Because you said you didn’t miss me. Rude.”
Kita chuckles and finally notices that you were still in bed too, lying on your side. He copies your position and lies on his side too. This way, even if it’s through the screen, it’ll feel like you’re lying in bed together.
“But the truth?” Kita asks.
You look wistful on screen, “I missed you too.”
You let those words lie between you and for a moment, you just stare at each other, floating through the river of your own longing.
Kita breaks the silence first, his words coming out like they’re coming up for air, “When’s your flight home again?”
“In two days,” you say..
“It’s not too long, baby,” Kita says, “We’ll be so busy with work, it’ll be here before we know it. How’s everything been for you?”
“Ugh, my English is so rusty, but my agent hired an interpreter so it’s fine. Besides that, I love New York a lot, actually. It’s a bit chilly since it’s winter right now, but everything is so pretty. I should have sent you a photo, but it was snowing and I felt like I was in those snow globes. You’ve been here before, so you know what I’m talking about, right?”
Kita shakes his head, “Nah, I went to San Francisco actually. On the other side of that country, babe.”
“Ah, I see,” You say, “We should go here for fun someday. I feel like we’d both enjoy it.”
Kita can see it. “You know,” Kita starts, “We still have our honeymoon to go to. We never went on one.”
You snort, “Imagine if we went on one, right as we got married. It would have been so awkward.”
“Hey, you never know,” Kita says, “Maybe we would have gotten closer much faster. Maybe it would have broken the ice.”
“Our way is nice too,” You defend. “Feels like we really worked for it.”
Kita hums. They really did. “Anyway, honeymoon. We should do it. I want to do it.”
“I don’t want to do it in New York, though. I want to go somewhere special,” you say.
“We have time to think about it,” Kita says, “Given our schedules, we probably can’t go for a while anyway. I’ll have to rearrange things, and it depends on how long we want to go.”
You laugh, stretching out on your bed. “It needs at least be a two week vacation. Even if we’re just a week away somewhere and then we spend the rest of our honeymoon at home.”
“Anything works for me,” Kita says, “I just want to spend time with you.” you make a pained noise, pouting at the screen, “Don’t say that. That just makes me miss you more. What am I gonna do when you actually properly vocalize that you miss me, huh? I’m gonna end up booking the earliest flight home just to see you.”
Kita laughs, “Okay, okay, I won’t say it then.”
At least, not then. He says it a night later, in a voice message, and sends it to you right before he sleeps.
You make good on your promise and come home a day early, catching him sleeping on your bed. The embarrassment he feels lasts barely a second, making way to the swooping feeling in his chest when he realizes what you had done. He doesn’t even get a word into his explanation before you’re climbing over him, raining kisses on his face.
He thinks he's beginning to understand the term marital bliss.
.
.
.
Unfortunately for them, this marital bliss doesn’t last long.
The moment you stop being busy, Kita is suddenly drowning in work—to the point where he actually has to work late nights at the office.
He should be used to late nights at the office. They used to be his life. This used to be where he lived. He’s even slept here before. And yet, every bone in his body protests at being in this office past six pm.
Kita sighs, putting his pen down, and leaning back against his chair. He thinks about how he’s missing dinner with you, while you’re probably eating by yourself right now. Maybe you’ll eat in the living room and put on Netflix to have something to keep you company. Or maybe, you’ll go out and visit Mina, so you won’t have to eat alone.
The thought of it pricks at his heart. Work is work, and it is what it is—but still.
Kita shakes his head, and with it all his regrets about tonight. The only thing he can do is keep his head down and finish work as fast as he can. After all, the faster finishes this, the faster he gets to go home. Maybe he’ll even be able to catch you awake.
He picks up his pen and goes back to work.
He falls deep into his paperwork, so much so that he barely catches the knock on his door.
It must be his dinner. He had almost forgotten about it. It really has been so long since he’s eaten dinner at his office, but trust Atsumu to be on top of things.
“Come in,” He says, not looking up from his papers. He hears the door open and says, “You can just leave it on the coffee table. Thank you—”
“You know, you should look at the person you’re saying thank you to.”
That voice. Kita immediately looks up and is met with the sweetest sight, “Y/N?”
“Ta-da!” you grin, holding up a plastic bag, “I brought you dinner. Called your assistant and told him not to buy you dinner.”
“You did?” Kita can’t believe you’re here. It’s actually the first time you’ve ever been here, and you stand out in a fluffy hoodie and sweatpants against the sleek, posh furniture of his office.
You look like home.
“I thought it would be nicer than eating whatever sad takeout you were gonna have,” you reason, setting up the food by the coffee table Kita had pointed out earlier.
Kita finally stands up and walks over, giving you a hug and kiss on the cheek hello. “Yes,” Kita says, right as he pulls back, “This is much nicer than takeout.”
You give him a pleased smile, opening a tupperware, “I’m glad you agree. Anyway, I just felt sad at the thought of you eating takeout, and we had all this extra food at home. I don’t want to distract you from your work though, so I’ll be going—”
Kita makes a noise of protest, “Did you eat already? You’re not bothering me at all. I needed to take a break anyway.”
Need to take a break, Kita can’t help but make fun of himself internally, Didn’t know you knew what that meant.
“Are you sure?” you ask, looking at him with eyes that betray his hope, “Because I can just eat at home—”
“So you haven’t eaten yet?” Kita smiles, utterly pleased at the turn of events, “Let’s eat together. I know you don’t like eating alone, and you’re here already.”
Besides, it’s more than enough food for two people.
You settle down on the seat next to him, “Okay.”
As they’re eating, a thought pops up in Kita’s head, “How did you get up here, by the way? Security escorted you?”
The question sets you off.
You put down your chopsticks with a groan, “They barely did. I told them I was your wife and they took one look at my clothes and didn’t believe me.”
“We need to get you a badge,” Kita decides, “They should have known to let you in. Can’t believe we missed that. I guess it never occurred to me that you would have any reason to ever stop by.”
“Yeah, this building feels a little too stuffy for me. Too corporate,” you laugh, “But you’re here, and I think that’s reason enough to stop by.”
Kita swallows his heart, down with the rice he stuffs in his mouth. Cute, cute, cute.
He rarely gets friends visiting him at the office during the workday. At least, not without a scheduled meeting. He knows he’s mostly to blame for that. Everyone knows his days are packed with meetings already or that he had too many things to do to be entertaining people.
But here was someone—and not just anyone, his wife—who would come and stop by just to see him. Just to make sure he was eating well.
“Anyway,” you continue your story, “I showed them our wedding ring, and they were like, how are we supposed to know if that ring matches what Kita Shinsuke wears? So I had to resort to pulling up our wedding photos—”
Kita laughs, “You did not—”
“I totally did,” you smirk, “Now I’m kind of glad we had a public wedding. They were still kind of suspicious though and were about to call you to confirm, but Atsumu caught me as he was leaving. You need to give him a raise, by the way.”
“I pay him well,” Kita retorts back, “I know I’m not easy to work with and manage.”
“I still can’t believe I’m married to a workaholic,” you shake your head.
Kita smiles at his food and softly says, “I’m not as bad as I used to be. I used to sleep on this couch, you know? Only came home to shower and change.”
This was an admission hidden and buried within a story. An embarrassing thing to say out loud, but a part of him (one that recently revealed itself) wanted you to uncover it. To pick him apart and read what’s hidden between the lines:
I’ve changed because of you. Do you know that?
“Ah, Shin. Even if you tried I wouldn’t let you,” you say, so sure of yourself and your ability to drag Kita out of the office.
Kita raises a brow, incredibly interested, “Oh? What would you do?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” you tease, “Try it and you’ll see.”
Something in your smile dared him to try. To fuck around and find out. “Should I?” Kita bites his lip, “Should I not come home tonight?”
“Do it,” you say, voice turning low and soft. All it did was pull Kita closer—close, close, close, only stopping because you turned your head to look at him too, a sidelong glance through long lashes. “Sleep here so I can call you right before I sleep. Tell you, my bed is comfy and nice and warm but I can’t sleep because something’s missing.”
Kita holds his breath as he hangs onto your every word.
“What’s missing? You’ll ask,” you muse, a slow growing smile on your face. Kita doesn’t understand what’s so amusing. “I’d laugh at you for asking. You should know what’s missing.”
“I should?” Kita asks, watching as you nod. “What if I don’t know?”
You throw your head back laughing, pulling away. Kita almost follows you. You stand up, choosing to walk around to look through his office, “That was cute of you, Shin. You’re too smart to be pretending not to know.”
Kita stretches on his couch, right before standing up and going back to his desk, “Just playing the same game you’re playing.”
“Game?” you dramatically gasp, turning to him, “You think I’m joking? I’ll totally call you—”
“No need,” Kita rolls his eyes, pretending to look over his papers, “I’m definitely coming home tonight.”
“Yeah?” you ask, coming to stand beside him, leaning over to look at the files on his desk, “What are you even working on?”
“I have to review the presentation we’re giving tomorrow for a big partnership deal,” Kita explains, pointing at the notes he was making on the slide deck, “There was a last minute change in our strategy, which is why I’m reviewing it this late. We have a pre-meeting right before just to go over any further comments I have.”
“Some big words you’re using here,” you squint at a page, “Never thought I’d see them outside of class.”
“You took business classes?” Kita asks. “Thought you were an art major.”
Your mouth twists in distaste, “Yeah, I double majored actually. A compromise. Just in case the art thing didn’t work out.”
Kita can’t imagine you working in an office. It feels wrong. He thinks of your paintings, how much care you put in it, how every one of them felt like a child—your blood, your essence on a canvas. Kita is glad it worked out for you.
“You were probably super bored,” Kita murmurs.
“Some of it was actually interesting,” you say, hand moving to rest at the nape of Kita’s neck. Kita fought the urge to lean against it completely. “Taught me a little bit how to at least negotiate my contracts.”
“You don’t use a lawyer?” Kita asks.
“I do,” your thumb rubs against the side of his neck. “But I like doing a first glance in front of them just so they know I’m not some stupid, stuck-up rich girl they can fool.”
Kita oohs to tease, but it comes from a genuine place. His wife has a spine, made partly of steel, while you ran partly on fire. You slap him on the shoulder, “I do have pride. I’m barely part of the business, but I’m a Fukuda.”
“Not quite a Fukuda anymore though,” Kita reaches up to lightly touch your wrist. “You’re Kita Shinsuke’s wife now.”
God, you make him feel like a teenager, have him flirting like a teenager too. He cackles when you make gagging noises. “That was terrible. I’m going back. I’m not going to wait for you. Goodbye.”
Kita pulls you back before you get too far, “Okay, but give me a kiss before you go back.”
“A kiss?” you repeat, with a raised brow, “Just a single kiss.”
“Well yeah,” Kita says, glancing at the unlocked door of his office. Not that the unlocked part matters. Nobody else is here. “I actually do have to finish work and I don’t want to sleep here.”
“‘Kay,” you agree, leaning down to kiss him.
Kita cradles your cheek and meets you halfway. He meant it when he said one kiss, but he should have known that he’s too greedy to settle on just one. Thankfully, you are too.
What starts out as a short kiss goodbye soon becomes one long open-mouthed kiss to another. A polite hand on a cheek moves way past politeness, settling to a tight grip on your hip.
“Sit on my lap,” He breathes out in between kisses.
“I shouldn’t,” you say after pressing swift successive kisses against his mouth, “If I sit on your lap, I’m going to have to take you home.”
Kita pouts, which you press one last kiss against before finally pulling away.
“Fine,” Kita says, running a hand through your hair. “Drive safe. Don’t wait up for me.”
“I won’t,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You stand there for a moment, leaning against his desk, then say, “Please come home. I won’t wait up, but—”
“But?” Kita prods.
Your nose crinkles, before shaking your head, “It’s nothing.”
Kita wants to know, wants to ask, but you’re already moving away. Kita ends up watching you pack the tupperwares from the dinner back into the plastic bag, and is only able to say, “Good night,” to a retreating back.
Kita sighs. Rubs his eyes, before staring blankly at his papers.
He’s thought about this before, this side of you who keeps your cards close to your chest. He wonders what it would take for you to stop hesitating. He wonders if there’s something he could do to convince you that you can.
You probably just need a little bit more time. Maybe you don't trust Kita enough just yet.
He’ll think more about it later. His brain puts its foot down for now, reminding him of the work he still had to finish tonight.
With that thought, he picks up his pen and wills his mind to forget about everything but this proposal in front of him.
He finishes way later into the night, close to midnight. A part of him wanted to sleep on his office couch, but he promised he’d come home. And promise or not, he wanted to be home.
He sped through the streets in his car, mind on auto-pilot, too weary to be thinking of anything else. He thinks he gets home in record time.
He barely remembers the ride up to their floor. Punches their code in with an absent mind. Feels his knees crack when he bends down to toe off his shoes.
He’s aching to lie down by the time he reaches the top of the staircase to his room, but he pauses when he sees light coming out of your room. The door had been left slightly ajar.
Kita frowns. You said you weren't going to wait up.
He sighs, ready to say something. Though when he enters your room, he finds you asleep.
You lie curled on the bed, hand gripping your phone tightly. Were you actually going to call? Kita wonders as he brushes the hair off of your forehead. He leans over and kisses your forehead, lips lingering for a moment.
“Thank you for bringing me dinner,” Kita whispers. “Thank you for thinking of me. I was thinking of you too.”
He pulls your phone out of your hands, plugs the charger in, and turns off the light. Shuts the door closed.
Even if you keep things from him, it’s fine. It doesn’t change the fact that you have genuine feelings for him and care for him in a way nobody has for a long, long time. Whatever it is, it’s worth waiting for, no matter how long.
.
.
.
After what feels like an eternity of missing each other, you both finally manage to find some time to go out on a proper date.
Naturally, Kita is super excited for it. He makes a reservation at this famous restaurant in Shinjuku that’s earned two Michelin stars, and then plans to just walk around the streets with you. It might be a little chilly given the weather, but he thinks it would be nice to just be out.
The night starts off nicely—he got you flowers again, a gesture he’d been rewarded kisses for—and then dinner had only elevated the night. The food had been high-class, truly deserving the Michelin stars it had been awarded with.
It’s at Shinjuku that the night gets derailed, though.
They briefly stopped at a cafe to get some hot tea to drink as they found a park bench to sit on. However, after finding a nice spot, you accidentally elbows his tea out of his hands and he ends up having to buy another one.
The cafe is close enough, so he tells you that he can just go by himself and return in a couple of minutes.
When he comes back with a fresh cup of tea, he finds you with someone else.
At first, he doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s having a hard time recognizing the man you're with, because they’re wearing a dark cap and a face mask.
Kita is about to step in when hears the man say, “I miss you, Y/N.”
“You don’t have the right,” you reply, coldly.
“It’s not what you think. I know how it looks when it all went down, but it’s not what you think. You didn’t even let me explain, and you blocked my number. You said you loved me,” This stranger says, heated with despair, trying to reach for your hands.
You take a step back, not letting the man touch you, “How dare you? I loved you completely, and you ruined it. I saw everything… what else is there to say?”
“Then forgive me. We can start over,” He says, desperately, “I still love you. I’ll do anything—”
“I’m married,” you hissed, “Leave me alone. If you ever come near me again, I will ruin your career—”
This stranger doesn’t give up easily though. He grabs your wrist and says, “I don’t care if you’re married. I just want you back in my life—”
“Let go of me,” you say, trying to pull your arm away, but this man’s grip is tight, “You’re hurting me.”
Kita’s been watching this whole interaction with dread so heavy he can’t move. There’s so much here to process, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Whoever this stranger is, he’s clearly not a stranger to you. Not even close.
Whoever he is, though, he doesn’t have a right to hurt you, and it’s the pain on your face that moves him out of his spot and has him grabbing the man’s arm.
“She said you’re hurting her,” Kita says. He tries not to sound angry, but just looking at this guy has his blood boiling. “Let her go, while I’m still asking nicely.”
The man lets go, but not without asking, “Who are you?”
“I’m her husband,” Kita says, turning to you, watching as you cradle your wrist close to your chest “Are you okay?”
You nod, “It just hurts a little. But I’m fine.”
“Do you want to go home?” Kita asks, cradling your cheek.
“Yes,” you say, and that’s all Kita needs to know. He wraps an arm around your shoulders, tucking you into his side and kissing your temple. He doesn’t even spare this not-stranger a glance as he walks you back to the car.
The walk back is silent, even though Kita is brimming with questions. He has an inkling of who that person used to be, but he’d rather hear it from you. There’s a fear that keeps him from asking though, and it’s the possibility that you might not tell him, even if he asks.
So he doesn’t ask, and you sit in silence on the way home too.
Back at home, Kita decides he’ll just give you space for the night and resolves to try to speak to you tomorrow morning.
When he tries to go to his room though, you grab his hand to stop him.
“Are you upset with me?” you ask, in a quiet, fragile voice.
“Baby, why would I be upset with you?” Kita reassures you, reaching for your hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I swear I’m not.”
“Then why are you going to your room? Do you not want to sleep with me tonight?” you ask.
Kita shakes his head, “I thought that maybe you’d want some space for the night.”
“No,” you say, tugging on his hand, “I don’t want to be alone.”
Kita exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, let me just get ready for bed. I’ll join you, I promise.”
You let him go, but not before kissing him long and hard. When you pull away, there’s an unreadable look in your eyes, even as you say, “Thank you.”
Kita doesn’t know what to make of it, but he does keep his promise.
After getting ready for bed, he carefully enters your room and finds you’re already lying on the bed. There, on the left side, is the space where Kita’s taken to sleeping on. Left open for him.
He climbs in, and as has become muscle memory, your bodies naturally turn toward each other. Your head on his shoulder, arm around his waist, and legs tangled together.
“Shin,” you say after a moment. “How much did you hear?”
“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Kita says, even though he’s aching to know. “I heard most of it...I think.”
“I...I don’t really want to talk about it in depth. At least not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow,” you say. You lift your head, propping yourself up with a hand on his chest, “Is that okay?”
Kita bites his lip, “Would you tell me someday?”
“Yes. I promise,” you say, sealing it with a kiss.
You pull away, resting your forehead against his. Kita nods, “I’m okay with that. Would you… tell me who that was though? So I’m not in the complete dark? I have an idea, but… I don’t want to assume.”
You nod, “That’s fair. It’s probably what you’re thinking. He’s my ex-boyfriend. We dated for three years, before I married you. It ended badly. That’s all I can say.”
Three years. That’s a long time to be with someone. The next question is out of his mouth before he can think about it, “Do you still love him?”
“God, no,” your expression twists in disgust, as if you can’t even bear the thought. Kita feels something dislodge in his chest at your answer. He’s so relieved. Your expression softens, “I wouldn’t have married you if I was still in love with him. Okay?”
“Okay,” Kita says, stroking your hair. “Let’s go to sleep.”
.
.
.
Kita tries hard not to think about your ex.
Still, sometimes, he catches himself thinking about it. The hurt in your voice. The desperation in your ex’s. The three years they spent together. A relationship like that couldn’t have been anything but serious.
He knows he could probably ask Suna and be able to get answers, but he decides to trust you on it.
You promised, and someday, he’ll know.
In the meantime, he’ll focus on their relationship, and what better way to do that than to focus on preparing for your honeymoon.
Your honeymoon destination is Nami Island, South Korea, and you’re going at the heart of winter.
(When Kita had first told his friends that, he’d been met with confusion at first. Suna had frowned, Aren’t honeymoons usually somewhere hot? Somewhere tropical with beaches?
You guys could have gone to Boracay or if you wanted somewhere farther, you could have gone to the Maldives, Aran had whined. You only get married once!
Kita felt defensive at their words, Nami Island is perfect for us. It’ll be quieter and more intimate—
Oh, Aran smirked. You wanted it to be cold so your wife could hold onto you—)
Kita put a stop to that conversation fast. He wasn’t even thinking of those kinds of things. He’s sure you weren't either. You had both just wanted to be alone, a chance to forget the world and focus only on them.
They can vacation anywhere else in the future, but they can honeymoon only once. You want to make the most of it, and he feels that’s best done at a place where they can focus on them and their relationship. Forget the world. Forget their families. Forget exes and everyone else.
Just you and him.
.
.
.
Almost everything is set for the honeymoon. Kita just has a couple things left to set up and arrange at work, then he should also be good to go.
One of them is submitting his request for time off.
"I'm taking time off work," Kita says, casually, handing the appropriate paperwork to his father, the CEO.
His father finally looks up from his work at that, "You know this has to go to Human Resources first, right?"
Kita sighs, pointing to the files, "It already has. And as I directly report to you, all I need is your express approval."
"Your secretary could have done this, son," His father finally grabs the files and takes a moment to read it. Kita tries not to look impatient. "Oh? You're taking time off for the honeymoon?"
"Yes," Kita answers, short. "I've cleared my schedule, assigned my responsibilities to appropriate people who can cover them, and moved forward everything that I can. In addition, I've recently secured the deal with that entertainment company you wanted me to handle."
His father raises a brow, setting the files back down on his desk, "Why are you telling me all of this? Did you think I wouldn’t let you go on your honeymoon?"
Yes, Kita thinks. There is nothing Kita hasn't received from his parents that hasn't been earned.
"Don't look at me like that," His father frowns, reading his non-response for the accusation that it is. "You always work hard and I recognize that. You've done amazing work for the company. And a honeymoon is a honeymoon. I'm surprised it took you so long to take it." More quietly, his father continues, "I'm glad you're taking it. I'm glad your marriage is going well."
Kita doesn't know what it is about his father's words that annoy him. He's never been the rebellious sort of son nor has he ever been the type of son who spoke back to their parents. But there's something about his father being glad that he's taking time off to go on his honeymoon that pricks at him.
Maybe it's the attempt at closeness. Growing up, he was never close to his father. If his father loved him, it was a love so mild Kita could have barely felt it, and it was further eclipsed by the love his mother had for him. Though that, Kita wasn't sure he could call love either.
In any case, he's twenty-eight now and his relationship with his father has barely changed. He prefers the business relationship they've cultivated. It's cleaner, less messy. He's better as a boss than a father. Now, he gives Kita what he needs.
And maybe it's because he's twenty-eight now, with all the cards shaken up and laid out on the table, that he says this, "I don't understand your surprise. The marriage is arranged, there's a lot of work to be done at the company, and you know how I am about my work."
His father looks taken aback, "Son—"
"And please," Kita says, unyielding, "you don't have to pretend you care about my marriage. If this is about what I said last time to mother's comment about the divorce—"
"No, no," His father says, pained, "Ignore your mother. You know how she is. I'm genuinely glad it's going well. I know it's arranged and our motivations for it… were more on the practical side, but it's good to see you happy."
"Happy," Kita repeats in disbelief. He looks imploringly at his father, "Isn't it a little too late for sentiments like this?"
His father gingerly stands, which Kita watches warily. When did his father grow so old like this? "My son, I know I haven't been the best father, which is something I have thought about a lot. It's something I've been hoping to correct. Shin—"
His father reaches for him, and Kita hates, hates, hates how he doesn't back away. How a part of him craves this, has always craved it.
His father pats him on the shoulder, the gesture of it awkward. If this was years ago when he was still a child, it would have been enough.
But he's twenty-eight now. He's not a child anymore. And it'll take more than this—this awkward pat on the shoulder and small words backed with no action—for Kita to forgive him.
If this relationship ever mends, it'll be on his own terms.
"You know, I didn't realize this until recently," Kita smiles, though it holds no sweetness, and his father's hand slowly drops back to his side. "But I've been an open wound all my life. And you've done nothing to fix it. You've never even acknowledged it at all. I know mother never will. I've always wondered if that's because you've never seen it, busy as you are with work. But you know what? You see it, and it kills me," his voice breaks into a whisper at the word, "that the only person who's acknowledged it properly is the stranger you married me to. And it makes me wonder if you've seen and just chose to look away. I don't know what version of the truth hurts less."
"If you want to be a good father, you have to earn it." Kita says, because a part of him will always be molded in his parent's image. His father's eyes look glassy and Kita looks away, unable to take it. Finally, he says, "Now please, could you approve my vacation paperwork?"
.
.
.
They arrive at their hotel in Nami Island with bodies weary from multiple connecting journeys.
“I’m starting to rethink our honeymoon destination, babe,” you say, lugging your suitcase up the stairs, “Or at least, your decision to get us the suite on the highest floor.”
Kita snorts, “Maybe if you worked out with me, you wouldn’t be struggling. Do you need some help?”
“No, I got it,” you say, but you stop on the step you’re on to catch your breath, “I can do this. Just stay there and look sexy, so I have motivation to keep climbing.”
Kita shakes his head, watching you carry your suitcase with so much determination you’d think you were saving the world or something. You finally make it to the top and give Kita a smug look, as if to say, see, I could do it!
Kita puts his arm around your shoulders and squeezes. “Good job,” He teases.
You lean your head on his shoulder and pucker your lips, “Thank you, now give me a kiss.”
“You never miss an opportunity, huh?” Kita says, giving you a quick smooch that causes you to whine. “Let’s kiss later. We haven’t even made it to our rooms yet. Come on.”
Their suite is pretty easy to find, since he booked the penthouse suite. He swipes their room cards and goes in.
Kita has stayed at a lot of expensive hotels, often in different countries, so he’s a bit used to beautiful, ostentatious accommodations. But as they walk into their suite, as he’s greeted by beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows that present snowy views of Nami Island, he’s admittedly breathless at the view.
You leave your suitcase by the door and rush to the windows. “This is super nice,” you say, turning back to him. “Tell our vacation planner that they did a good job.”
“I picked this place!” Kita rolls his eyes, as he closes the door behind him. “He did help, but I chose a lot of it.”
You walk back to him, arms wrapping around his waist. “Oh yeah?” You coo, “You did so good, baby.”
Kita runs a hand through his hair, feeling pleased, “It is super nice, right?”
You laugh, “Yes, an A plus for you.”
“Oh, I love that,” Kita nodding, seriously, “Keep giving me these grades. They’re music to my ears.”
You smack his shoulder, letting him go. “Stop that! I am not encouraging this.” You walk away, grabbing your suitcase, “I’m going to go check out our bedroom.”
Kita laughs, following behind you, only to see you stop in your tracks. “Why’d you stop?”
You turn to him, looking so betrayed. “Shin. How could you?”
“How could I what?”
You gape at him with disbelief, pointing to a room, “What is this?”
“What is what? Babe, use more words.”
You point to another room, unimpressed. “Why are there two rooms? Are we sleeping separately?”
Kita’s brows knit together, “We can if you want?”
“Why is that even an option?” You narrow your eyes, “This is a honeymoon, Shin. You’re so stupid. You get an F for this.”
You make an agonized noise, before stalking into one room and throwing yourself on the bed.
It takes a promise of a thousand kisses and a half (please don’t ask about the negotiations process) for you to forgive him.
“I’m sorry I gave you an F,” you say, in between kisses. You look too pleased for someone who was pinned down and tickled into submission. “You’re not stupid. I overreacted. You were just being considerate. Besides, it’s an easy fix. We’ll just use one bed.”
“You’re so awful,” Kita manages to get out, before you pull him back in for another kiss. You’re insatiable today. When he manages to pull away, long enough to catch his breath, he says, “It’s literally just how we have it at home.”
You raise a brow, “Yes, and we are not at home.”
Kita gets off you, rolling on his back and gets a glance of the world outside their window. All he can see is white snow. It really does feel like they’re the only two in the world.
He grabs your hand and presses a kiss to it, turning to you once again, “No. We’re definitely not.”
.
.
.
Maybe they call it a honeymoon because it’s a moon’s worth of sweetness packed in such a short period of time.
With you threatening to throw his phone out of his window if he even dares to check his work email, he ends up fully checked out of work.
Their days usually begin like this:
They wake up and just do whatever they want. If they wake up early, they spend the morning tangled up in each other before hauling themselves out of bed for breakfast. If they wake up late (which is really mostly just Kita being held captive by you cuddling him until you’re ready to wake up), they get room service for breakfast and get ready to hit the slopes.
Each successive day they spend in Nami Island, they try hard to level up their skiing skills. They humble themselves to the kiddie slopes on the very first day, cheering and laughing at each other’s successes and losses.
Some days, when they want a break from skiing, they take their time and explore the surrounding villages in the area. There’s some small but highly regarded restaurants that they try. There’s even cute little souvenir shops that they can peruse.
When they take a break like this, it’s usually because their bodies are sore and aching from the previous day’s activity. For that, the town also has something to offer: a spa. They book full body massages and it feels like heaven on earth, relaxing as they’re surrounded only by the trees. The pain and the stress—from almost everything—melts away. They don’t remember any other time they’ve felt more relaxed.
And whether they’re ending the day tired or relaxed, the one constant is this: they always welcome the night happy.
Some nights, they watch a movie until they fall asleep. Some nights, their bodies are so tired they fall right into it the moment they get into bed.
Some nights their bodies are thrumming with too much energy. They lie there, holding each other in silence long past after even the movie credits have ended.
Nights like these, they talk.
"Tell me something I don't know about you," you say, listening to the beat of his heart. "A secret or just something you've never told anyone."
"When I was younger," Kita says, feeling himself sink into the past, "I had this dream that I would get away from my life somehow. Nevermind that I'm the heir to my parent's fortunes and dreams, I had plans upon plans. I would leave everything behind and start a new life in the UK when I went for university. I would make my own name and I'd do whatever the hell I want. Date whoever without wondering if their name would pass my mother's approval. I'd have a new family, new dreams, new life."
"What happened to those plans?" You ask against his chest, arms tightening around his waist, as if Kita would go through with those plans now and fly away.
Kita shrugs, "Time, I guess? I got so busy focusing on pleasing my parents, on working hard to meet their approval, that I lost sight of anything else. I kept saying someday, someday, and then I got older and I got scared. What if I was free but I was nothing? What if I got away but I was more miserable? I was a bird in a cage with its door open, but the cage felt like home. I don’t know… looking back now, I was only twenty then, but I felt so old already. I came back home when I was twenty-three.”
"Twenty-three is still super young," you comment.
"Compared to the twenty-eight that I am now, yes," Kita agrees, "But back then I felt like my life was already made with bricks. Built. Unchangeable. Unmoveable. Like this was it and there was nothing I could do about it. That it's too late to do anything. Which was crushing, you know? Everybody else had this nice childhood where they got to do whatever they wanted. Youth was supposed to be the most beautiful moment of your life, but nobody ever tells you what to do when you don't get the chance to make it beautiful. It's not fair."
There's an undeniable hurt that slips into his voice, and at that, you pull yourself up to a sitting position, and Kita has to look up at you.
"Babe," you frown, "Tell me you still don't think this way."
Kita tries to smile for you, tries to lighten it up, "It's not that I'm unhappy. Like, I have you and we're on our honeymoon and baby, I love this—" you lean down to kiss him and Kita meets you halfway and takes and takes whatever you have to give.
"I just want you happy," you say when you pull away. Your voice aches like Kita’s pain is your own. "I know we can't always be, but I don't ever want you to feel trapped. I don't ever want to make you feel like the way your parents made you feel."
"You don't. You never have," Kita holds your hand and presses a kiss against the back of it. "I just think about the past sometimes and wonder how I would have turned out if I did everything like I intended to. If I wasn't so scared. I just feel like I missed out on something big when I was younger, and I just mourn the loss every now and then. It doesn't mean I'm not happy with you right now, but it really makes you think, right?"
Your frown looks heavy, like you’re the one holding all of Kita's pain.
After a moment, you say, "I used to believe that youth was special and extraordinarily beautiful too. Everything was new and I think there's a certain beauty to that. That even in our struggle, we were so beautiful. Looking back on it now, I don't think that's true. And the older I get, the more I'm convinced that the people who believe that peaked in high school or university. I think our youth could be beautiful, but I don't understand how other ages of our life couldn't be beautiful either. I don't think happiness or beauty could be measured or compared. The flavor of it is just different."
You sigh, "I just… think it's sad if youth was the peak. Life is so long. And I think you're so valid to be sad over the loss, but also, I hope you're more comforted by the fact that better things can and will come."
Your words are a comfort, in the same way that everything else about you is too. And for the moment, he is comforted, but he knows himself, knows the routines his brain loves to lean into when he's tired and low and feeling the loneliest color of blue in the world. So he says, "I am comforted, but if I forget, could you just remind me?"
"Oh, Shin," you lean down again and kiss him on the forehead, and Kita nearly cries at the tenderness of it. "We'll make so many good and beautiful memories that I won't have to. But if you forget, just tell me, and I'll hold you like this and remind you again and again."
It’s moments like this that make Kita feel like all the pain of the past has been worth it. His early life had been cold like winter, but it doesn’t hurt as much knowing it gave him you, something as bright as the lemons and oranges that were born during the harshest season of the earth.
Because even now, with snow falling heavily around the tiny home they’ve built around each other, he feels perfectly warm.
.
.
.
For all their emphasis on being in a more secluded honeymoon destination, they do end up spontaneously deciding to spend the night in Seoul.
They leave early in the morning, taking only one suitcase with them filled with enough clothes to get them through the trip. They’re coming back to Nami Island after all.
It’s nearly a two hour train ride to Seoul from there. Two hours is a long time, which they spend either asleep or just staring out the window, watching the world outside pass by in a blur of whites and blues. You fall asleep within the first ten minutes, head lolling about until Kita presses it against his shoulder.
He eventually falls asleep too, with your hands in his lap and the sight of your rings glinting under the soft morning light in his mind.
Once their train arrives at the station, they’re woken up by the conductor’s announcement.
They stand outside the station, watching their breaths mingle with the air. You shiver, even though your body is wrapped up in a fluffy coat and your neck is hidden by a thick scarf and your hands are kept warm by mittens. You burrow yourself by Kita’s side, and maybe now, Kita can admit that Aran was partly right.
He does want it to be cold, so that his wife could hold onto him like this.
“Did you find us a place?” You ask. “Maybe we should have thought this through a little more.”
Kita turns to you, “Oh, now you want to be less impulsive. What did you say last night? Shin, we’ll figure it out. Stop overthinking it like a hag.”
You pout, “Because I was cold! And you were on your phone, far away, and not paying attention to me. What was I supposed to do?”
“How old are you, darling?” Kita pinches your cheek. They turn pinker at the squeeze. “I can’t believe you bullied me into this. We didn’t even book a hotel. What if they’re all fully booked?”
“They won’t be,” you say, pushing his hand away and rubbing your cheek. “I’m just complaining right now because it’s cold. You’re not stressed, are you?”
Kita wasn’t, but now that the possibility of not finding a hotel is brought up, he finds that yes, he is a little stressed. What would they do?
“You are!” you shake your head, “Don’t be, babe. Hand me your phone. I’ll handle it.”
And you do handle it, even if you have to take off your mitten to work the phone and you have to blow on your hands to warm them up. It doesn’t even take you that long to find a place to stay.
“Here,” you say, handing his phone back to him. “Let’s quickly get a taxi so we can drop off our luggage and go exploring.”
“Hey,” Kita says and waits for you to turn to him before he presses a kiss to your cheek.
You blink, “What was that for?”
Kita shrugs, averting his eyes, “I don’t know. For taking care of me, I guess.”
You soften, “It’s nothing. You would do the same for me.”
It’s easy from there. They check-in at their hotel to drop off their luggage. From then on, it’s an exercise in spontaneity led by you, who claims that all Kita has to worry about is holding your hand.
And what does a day trip led by you look like?
It’s pretty fun. They take the train to get to the center of the city and then they begin to explore starting there. They’re both well-traveled and have seen more tourist spots than either one can bear, so they spend their day just walking around. It’s a nice way to discover a city without the burden of having to see certain sights just because they’re supposedly famous.
This way, they end up stumbling into a variety of things. First of which is an honest-to-god Snow Festival that neither of them knew was happening but are super stoked about. It’s an amazing parade of ice sculptures, and they go around and try to decide which one they think is the best. Kita thinks the best one is the sculpture of an actual temple. It looks too real and detailed not to be the best. You think the sculpture of Pikachu is the best. When Kita asks why, you say it’s because it evokes an emotional response from the heart. Kita thinks you chose it just because you think it’s cute.
Another thing they stumble upon is this amazing restaurant for jjajangmyeon. It’s tucked in behind an alley and they only find it because of the line beginning to gather outside it. It’s a gem of a find; it’s amazingly savory, the combination of the salt coming from the sauce and the tender meat. It’s so good he even risks the threat of murder by stealing a slice of pork from your bowl.
After that, they end up topping off their lunch with a trip to confectionary factory. You had pulled him towards it with starry eyes, and Kita was powerless to refuse. They take their time exploring the place, watching experts make chocolate and letting themselves be your sweet tooth craves it. He lets you feed him some, and they’re pretty good. But that’s probably only because you’re the one feeding him.
And because the world is small, they stumble into someone he knows too.
“Kita Shinsuke!” He hears someone call him as he’s waiting for you to come out of the restroom.
He’s wrapped in a hug before he can even process who it is. The person pulls away and to say he’s shocked is an understatement, “Ichika?”
“Shin,” the woman smiles brightly, taking him in. “You look good. I did a double-take just now, because I thought I saw someone familiar. And I was right! Don’t know anybody else this tall and good-looking.”
“Ichika,” He says, embarrassed. She’s always been so direct, and he sees that she hasn’t changed. Same old Ichika, with her sharp hair cut short and sharper personality.
She hits him on the shoulder, “You haven’t changed! Still can’t take a compliment without wanting to die, huh? How have you been?”
“I’ve been fine,” Kita says vaguely, not wanting to get into a full blown catch-up in the middle of a street, “What about you? What are you doing here?”
Ichika sighs, running her hands through her hair, “I’ve been so busy. You know how it is in the fashion industry, it’s always about trying to chase the new thing. Being ahead of the future, so that we can set the trends.”
“Same job, then?” Kita asks, “Still working for that fashion boutique company?”
“Yup,” Ichika nods, before smiling slyly at him, “Unless… you have a spot at yours?”
Kita laughs, “You really, really haven’t changed. I’ll see if anything’s open, just send me an email in case I forget.”
Ichika exclaims, “An email? Kita Shinsuke, am I dirt to you?” She pulls out her phone, “I am not sending a work email to you. That’s weird. Is your number still the same?”
“I thought you deleted my number,” Kita raises a brow.
“I was just kidding when I said that. Is that why you never bothered texting me?” Ichika narrows her eyes. She sighs looking away, “I… understood why you did it. It was decent of you to let me know.” She looks back at him with a considering glance, “I’m still fond of you… Shin, if you ever change your mind—”
“Ichika-kun,” Kita shakes his head, uncomfortable at where her next words were about to lead. “I’m married now.”
She pouts at him, “I said if you ever change your mind later. In any case, we should definitely catch up. How long are you in Seoul?”
How does Kita respond to this without leading her on? Before he can come up with an answer, he hears somebody else call his name, “Shin!”
He turns and he sees you walking up to him with a bright smile on your face, grabbing a hold of his arm, before turning to Ichika, “Oh, hello.”
Ichika smiles, “You must be the wife.”
“Yup, that’s me,” you chirp. You don't extend a hand when you introduce yourself, “Kita Y/N. And who are you?”
“Sato Ichika,” she introduces, though she glances at Kita when she says that. “Kita’s old friend. Just saw him as I was walking around and thought, what a coincidence.”
“Ah, Shin has never mentioned you,” you pout at him, “Any friend of Shin’s is a friend of mine. Are you busy? Would you like to have dinner together? I would love to get to know you more.”
Kita is praying Ichika says no, and for once, his prayers are answered. She smiles politely, “Sorry, I’ve got plans tonight already. Maybe some other time. It was nice meeting you, Y/N. Shin, it’s really good to see you.”
“It’s nice to see you too,” Kita says, feeling like he dodged a bullet when they say their goodbyes.
But as the day goes on, it doesn’t feel that way.
Your bright demeanor darkens, like the sky as its sun sets slowly but surely in the horizon. Kita doesn’t feel anything amiss at first.
You talk to him like nothing’s wrong, laugh at all the right things, and hold onto him tight. But by the time they get to dinner, you’re playing with your food, which doesn’t feel right. You’ve both been walking around all day, so you should be famished.
But when he asks you what’s wrong, all he gets is this: “I’m just tired, Shin. Do you think we can go back to our hotel room?”
Even then, he tries not to read into it. It makes sense that one would be tired, but when he tries to kiss you on the lips, you turn your head and his mouth awkwardly lands on your cheek.
And when they get back to the hotel room, you immediately pull away, making a bee line for your clothes and entering the bathroom with a few bare words.
You’d been fine, Kita thinks, until Jiwoo. Fuck, how much did you hear? Kita replays that conversation back, but thinks it’s fine? He had drawn the line clearly with her. Besides, if you had problems with it, you wouldn’t have invited her for dinner. You would have told Kita immediately if anything was wrong, so maybe that’s not it.
But if not that, then what?
Kita doesn’t remember doing anything wrong. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t do anything wrong either. He’s about to tear his hair out when you step out of the bathroom in pajamas and eyes a watery red.
“Baby,” Kita stands up immediately, feeling like his heart’s been pierced through, “What’s wrong? Were you crying?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” you say, hiding your face by drying your hair with a towel.
Kita understands the need for space. He does, he really does. And any other time, he’d give it, but every part of him says this is something they shouldn’t sleep on. Especially when he feels like he’s the cause of it. He walks up to you, bending low to make eye contact, and says, “Y/N, I think we should talk about it.”
“Not right now,” you say, moving away again to avoid his gaze.
“Then when?” Kita asks, wanting to plead, don’t pull away, not from me.
“I don’t know,” you sigh, sounding tired and weary and a little bit of something else. Frustrated, maybe, but Kita can’t tell for sure. It feels like you’re closing up, with every step he takes. “Just leave it.”
Kita bites his lip, “Is it something I did? You—”
“Shinsuke.” you say. His name has never sounded so harsh coming out of your mouth. “I said to just leave it.”
You start stalking away to the other side of the room, and Kita can’t help but follow, grabbing a hold of your hand. But it’s barely in his grasp, before you take it away from him.
It reminds him of how easily good things can slip away in the span of a moment, and something desperate claws its way through him, “Don’t walk away from me, please. Y/N, come on—”
“God,” you angrily cursed as you whirl around to face him, “Can you please leave me alone for a second? Can you leave me to just process this before we talk about this? Can’t you see that I’m trying hard to be composed about this?”
Again, if it were anything else, Kita would. But he feels so strongly in his gut that this will only fester if he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want you to go to bed angry at him, especially when he doesn’t even know what you’re angry about.
“What are you trying to process?” Kita says, wanting to tear his hair out. “I’m hoping it’s not this, but I can’t think of anything else. Is this about Ichika-kun?”
You give him a withering look, “Ichika-kun?”
“Yes!” Kita confirms, eyes widening in disbelief at your tone. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Y/N, we’re married.”
“That’s not what it looked like back there,” you cross yout arms, looking away.
Kita frowns, “She’s just a friend.”
You scoff, “She’s not just your friend. She’s literally your ex-girlfriend. Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I didn’t hear her ask for your number? That she wasn’t inviting you out even though she knew you were already married?”
“So, you did hear that,” Kita says, which ends up being the completely wrong thing to say because it just darkens your expression even more. “How… did you know she was my ex?”
“You might not have cared who you were going to marry, but I did,” you say, like the reminder pains you. “I told you. I did my research. And that’s the last person you dated before you married me. Why didn’t you tell me?”
Kita swallows, “Because… I thought it didn’t matter. It was a good break-up and we promised to stay as friends.”
You don't say anything to that for an agonizing moment, before nodding. That’s all you do though, and it’s just not enough.
“You have no reason to be jealous,” Kita says, wanting badly to reach out and touch you. He doesn’t think you would let him though. “I promise. Don’t be. I’m yours.”
“You say that now,” you say, sounding out of reach. “But maybe later, you’ll feel differently. I mean, it’s not like you wanted to marry me in the first place. I knew that from the very beginning and I still fell for you. I still fell hard enough that I excused the fact that I’m always the one making the first move, that I always have to pull what you want out of you. I used to get scared of making requests of you, because I didn’t want you to say yes just to please me. What if your mother told you to keep me happy, so this marriage wouldn’t fall through? Am I forcing you into this? Maybe,” you swallow, shaking, “you don’t want to be with your ex, but maybe there’s somebody else you want to give your heart to? Is that something I should be worried about? Is there going to be other people in this marriage—”
“Baby, no,” Kita says with horror, grabbing a hold of your hands and trying to unfurl them from the fists they’d become.
You continue, as if you didn’t hear him, gaze hard and intolerable, “If there’s going to be other people, you have to let me know now. I don’t care if this marriage is arranged. I don’t care if it’ll plunge your parents’ or mine’s companies into bankruptcy. I’ve been cheated on and used for my parents’ name before and I refuse to suffer through that again. If you put me through that, I will leave you and take half of your assets.”
Kita barely even knows where to begin. There’s so much to parse through with what you’ve said, but he figures he’ll start with the words that stand out the most, “You’ve been cheated on?”
You don't answer. But you don't need to. Your silence speaks of shame, and Kita can hear it clearly. Slowly, the pieces come together and create a picture that starts making sense.
“Your ex,” Kita says, “That one we met. That one you didn’t want to talk about. He’s the one who cheated on you.”
You nods, and the confirmation fills Kita with the understanding of why good people commit murder. Right there and then, Kita wishes he had asked Suna for all the information he could get on your ex. He wishes he had punched the guy when he’d seen him.
But this isn’t about how Kita feels right now. This is about you and how scared you feel that Kita might do the same thing.
“I’m sorry that he did that to you,” Kita says, cupping your cheeks, “Nobody deserves to be cheated on, least of all you.”
You blink and a tear slips out. Kita wipes it with his thumb, and somehow, it’s that gesture that breaks you down. “I’m sorry,” you cry.
This time, Kita doesn’t hesitate to gather you in his arms. He holds you, stroking the back of your head until your tears subside. And when you’re done, he doesn’t mention how tight your hold on his shirt is. He doesn’t mention his tear-soaked shoulder. He doesn’t say anything at all until you break the silence.
With your flushed cheeks and red nose, you tell him, “Shin, I promise I’m not in love with him.”
Kita makes a surprised noise, “I know. I believe you.”
“I don’t know why it still hurts. I’ve moved on from this. I’m over him,” you say, “I swear I am.”
“And I believe you,” Kita stresses, “I wish it didn’t hurt you still, but I understand if it still does. Even if you’re over him. That kind of thing, that kind of hurt almost always outlasts the event. Do… do you want to talk about it?”
You sigh, “Yeah...yeah, I think you should know.”
They sit on their bed, and Kita waits patiently for you to begin, “I don’t know how much you know about him, but he’s an idol. He’s the reason I became really popular actually, because he was a fan of my work and he spoke about it on social media. Anyway, because he’s an idol, we had to keep it a secret that we were dating and that went on the whole time we were together. But on New Year’s, Dispatch came out with this story that he was in a relationship, with evidence and everything,” you smile bitterly at him, “It was with someone else, another idol, and I thought at first that maybe it was a mistake, but their companies went ahead and confirmed it too. They’re both really popular, so their fans were actually super happy for them. I… met up with him only once after, to properly break up with him and give him back everything he ever gave me. And then I never talked to him again, until we saw him at Shinjuku.”
“I really thought I’ve moved on from it, but today, seeing you with your ex, I just lost my mind,” you say with a frown, “At first, I was just annoyed because how can she just say that when you’re already married and act perfectly normal when talking to me. But then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I spiraled until I couldn’t see straight and all I could think about was the possibility that you’d leave me for somebody else too.”
He grabs ahold of your hand, both of which were clenched by your sides, and unfurls your fingers so that he can hold them. “You have to know that there’s not going to be anybody else. I don’t know how much words mean to you right now, but I swear to you on everything that I have, it’s just you. And just in case it needs to be said, I wouldn’t want you to bring anybody else into our marriage. I don’t want an open relationship. Is that okay with you?”
“Yes,” you say, sounding and looking so small. Kita wants to hold you again. “Is there anything else you want? For us?”
Your question reminds Kita of what you’d said earlier, “What I want… I don’t know what I want fully. I just know that I want you, and I’m sorry if you feel like you’re always the one making the first move,” Kita pauses, trying to find the right words to say, “I’m still learning to be okay with chasing after what I want. To actually voice it out. But I’m trying really, really hard.”
Kita sighs, squeezing your hands, “And I’m not doing that for my parents. I’m doing that for you, because you mean so much to me.”
And if Kita’s being honest, he’s doing it for himself too. When you grow up with parents who never seem to love you unless you’re doing well, you grow up with the idea that you’re only wanted when you please someone.
But you have never made him feel that way. You always make Kita tell you what he wants first, before saying anything. And it’s not about pleasing you so that you would want him. It’s about reciprocating the gesture, so that the person he cherishes is happy too. And he loves that he gets to practice that here, that he gets to prove to his younger self who was so convinced he’d been cursed because his parents never taught him how to love that he absolutely can. You’re not ruined, he wants to say.
His words seem to have thawed you completely. “Shin,” you say, touched.
“Come here,” Kita says, patting his lap and you climb on without hesitation. Kita lets you straddle his lap, simply wrapping his arms around your waist, just as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. This, Kita thinks, this is how close we should always be.
“I’m sorry again,” you say, “For blowing up on you. I just got scared. I shouldn’t have thrown the fact that you didn’t want to marry me when I know how it’s been for you with your parents. This is an arranged marriage, it was for my name—”
Kita cuts you off, “It doesn’t matter how it started, because what I feel for you right now has nothing to do with your family’s name. It’s purely just you. I love coming home to you for dinner. I love doing all sorts of fun things with you on the weekends. I like going to bed with you. I even worked super hard to get this much time off work, so we can spend all this time together on our honeymoon. You’ve upended my sad life and made it happy, Y/N. You, and only you.”
You sniff, hiding your face against Kita’s shoulder, “I’m going to cry again. Maybe you should keep holding your feelings in. It’s not good for my heart to hear you say all of that. I’m embarrassed.”
Kita laughs like a child at your words, wholeheartedly endeared. You lift your head at the sound, and Kita settles at the sight of your face. Your nose is still red, your eyes are puffy, the whole of you looks tender, and still—you’re the most beautiful thing Kita’s ever seen. “Can I kiss you?”
“No,” you say, immediately covering your face, “I look ugly right now.”
“Are you fishing for compliments right now?” Kita raises a brow, “I know that you know that you’re absolutely gorgeous.”
“But I was crying just now,” you reason, peeking between the spaces of your fingers, “I can’t believe you saw me ugly. You should only see my good side, Shin.”
Kita helplessly sighs, slowly unfurling your hands from your face, uncovering you like a rose, petal by petal, and says, “But what can I do? I want every part of you.”
And then he kisses your red mouth tender until you completely understand just how much Kita wants you.
.
.
.
It’s in the morning after that it hits him.
Maybe it’s the way he wakes up—sleep-drenched and kiss-drunk and to your beautiful face. Maybe it’s the emotional night they just had. Maybe it’s just the natural culmination of every day and every night they’ve spent together since their wedding, but he wakes up today and just knows.
He rains kisses on your face, from your forehead to your temples to your nose to your cheeks until he reaches the endless road to your mouth.
You wake up giggling, hand pushing his face away, “Let me sleep, please, please, please. You can’t expect me to sleep late and wake up early to entertain you.”
Kita pretends to think about it and then says, “I’ll consider it if you give me a kiss.”
“Demanding,” you comment with a shake of your head. Kita only puckers his lips as a response. You groan, hold him by the chin and give him a kiss. “There. Happy?”
“Sooooo happy,” Kita dives in for more kisses, until he can’t kiss you anymore because you’re both too busy laughing.
When he settles down and you’re still mid-beam, he feels it so strongly in his chest. Without thinking, he says, “Y/N, I think I’m in love with you.”
“You, uh, what?” You sputter with wide eyes.
“No, not I think,” Kita pushes forward, grabbing both of your hands and holding them to his chest, “Y/N, I’m in love with you.”
You breathe, looking at him like you’re seeing him for the first time, “Shin, I—”
And Kita waits and waits with bated breath until he realizes that you might not feel the same just yet.
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Kita reassures you, but he winces when he realizes that disappointment has seeped in his voice.
“Shinsuke,” You say, looking at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes, before burying your head into his chest.
Kita sighs, threading his hand down the back of your head. “It really is okay. I’m sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking and I just said what I felt because I woke up and just knew.”
You peek up at him with a frown, “Don’t apologize for being in love with me. I… I like you a lot and I care for you a lot and I adore you a lot. And I wasn’t uncomfortable, I was just surprised. I just thought that if we were to ever get there, I would get there first. I didn’t expect you…”
“You didn’t expect that I’d be there already?” Kita asks. “I’m glad I can surprise you too. But is it really surprising? Who wouldn’t fall for you?”
“Stop it…” you say, embarrassed to the point where you’re hiding your face again.
Kita laughs, not letting you hide. “You’ve been so shy lately. Last night too. Where’s my wife and her hubris so high it could reach Olympus?”
“What happened to my husband? I miss him. Where did you hide him? He was so cute and earnest,” you lament. You frown at him, “You’re so lucky I like you so much, you bastard, it drives me crazy sometimes…”
Kita closes his eyes, pretending to savor his words, “I like you so much, you bastard, that sounds almost as sweet as I love you.”
You smack him, “Shut up! Stop embarrassing me—”
Kita laughs, managing to catch your wrist before your hand could get another swipe in, “Stop hitting me. I’m literally in love with you. Baby, I love you—”
The reminder stuns you to silence, your whole face blossoming red. Kita softens, “Let me be sincere, even if it’s embarrassing for both of us. I love you and it really is okay if it takes you a while to catch up. Let me lead in our relationship for once, okay?”
You nod, “I’m almost there anyway. Just wait for me.”
“Oh yeah?” Kita bites his lip. “How close is almost there?”
“Shin!” you admonish, “I thought you said it’s fine if it takes me a while.”
“It is!” Kita says, “I just want to know how far you are from my heart. And also if I can do anything to help you get there faster.”
You press yourself against him, curl your leg around his hip, face close, mouths a breath apart, “I’m this close. Just love me as you are. And I’ll get there soon enough.”
“Okay,” Kita says, against your lips, “I can do that.”
.
.
.
Eventually, their honeymoon ends and they're due for their flight back home.
You're lying in the bed while Kita tries to finish packing his clothes.
"I don't want to go home," you say, voice coming out muffled from having your face squished into a pillow.
"Me neither," Kita says, steadily folding his clothes, "But we have to. We've already extended a couple days. Time to face reality again, babe."
You roll dramatically to the edge of the bed, where you easily poke Kita's back with your foot, "It's like you're excited to go back home."
Kita rolls his eyes, turning to you, "I literally just said I don't want to go back either."
You continue, all forlorn like you didn't hear a single thing that he said, "Going back to being my husband's side hoe. He's coming home to his real first love, his work."
"You're ridiculous," Kita laughs. "Remember when I came home expecting cuddles, but you decided to put your work first instead of me."
"Yes, that's because you're also my side hoe," You lie on his side, propping your head up with your hand. You look at him, like you’re appraising a painting, and say, "My pretty, pretty side hoe. You should let me paint you some time. I swear you could have been a model in another life."
Kita flushes at the compliment, feeling pink and pleased, "You think so?"
You covers your face, "You're so fucking cute when you get shy." you demand, "Come here. Come here right now and kiss the love of your life."
Kita wishes they were still at that part of their relationship (which was a couple nights ago) where you would get embarrassed at hearing I love you. Here they are now, with you unable to go a single moment without bringing it up. The audacity of this woman.
"Just for that, I'm going to continue packing," Kita turns back to his clothes. He's almost done with it anyway.
"Babe!" You whine, but Kita doesn't budge, "Y/N come here. This is really cutting into our cuddle time. We could both be done at the same time, but then I'm going to be done while you're going to have to still pack your stuff. Which really isn't ideal."
You stay silent for a moment, considering his words, before you say, "Fine. You make a great point."
You finally get out of bed and grab the suitcase you’ve been storing in the other room and then carry all your clothes into your current room as well. "Still can't believe you got two rooms. What a waste of money," You say, shaking your head as you open up the suitcase.
"You are not bringing this up again," Kita knows he will never live this down. He's sure he'll hear about this from his friends too, because you’ve decided Aran is your new best friend and doesn't know how to keep a secret. "I was just giving you options."
You hum, "Uhuh… we were already sleeping together in the same bed every night. Why would I suddenly choose to sleep in a different bed with you on our honeymoon?" At Kita's non-response, you sigh, "What am I gonna do with you, Kita Shinsuke? Are we gonna go back home and sleep in separate beds too?"
"You're so terrible," Kita says, throwing a dirty sock at your face. "As if you can sleep without me."
You narrowly dodge the sock and huff, "It's not my fault you're so warm." You throw the sock back at Kita, who doesn't dodge on time. Sometimes, the world wants to see you suffer.
You clear your throat, "By the way… I was thinking about how we should talk about our separate rooms back home. It's kind of odd to be talking about this, you know… considering we're married and all..."
"It's okay, this isn't really a conventional relationship." Kita reaches for your hand and holds it. "I do want us to share the same room. I can move my stuff around in my room, you can redecorate to however you want it—"
You gasp audibly, "Why not move to my room?"
"Well," Kita starts, "because my bed is bigger, and my room is bigger."
You raise a brow, "Then why do we always sleep in my room?"
"Because we always end up there," Kita shrugs, "Because you always pull me in and I can't say no to you. Because I really like the vibes of your room. Take your pick."
"Then why are we moving to your room?" You cross your arms over your chest.
"So we can combine our stuff in one place and have enough space for it," Kita explains, "Come on, wouldn't it be nicer to have a bigger bed?"
You roll your eyes, "My bed is barely smaller than yours. But… fine. I'll move in with you."
"Yay," Kita leans over and smooches your cheek. "Thank you. Love you."
Whatever frown you wear disappears, smoothed over by simple words. Looking at your small but unmissable smile, Kita thinks he should take back his previous statement. There's nothing to miss about you being embarrassed about hearing I love you. Not when you’re this happy hearing it. Not when you’re this pleased to know you’re married to someone who loves you.
Not when you’re here, ready to say I love you — something for Kita to look forward to.
.
.
.
They go home.
Their honeymoon begins to feel like a distant dream, but it’s alright. Life comes together so beautifully after that.
His days begin to blur into each other like this, hues of work and home all blending into contentment, until one day those days turn into months, and he realizes he’s happy.
And there’s so many reasons for it:
There’s going home to a warm meal, a beautiful home, and a wife whom he loves.
There’s the weekends, where they take trips to far out places just because they can.
There’s dinners, group dates, outings, and even weddings with their friends.
There’s new traditions, like decorating their home in red and green and hanging up a tree for Christmas. It includes suffering through insufferable dinners together with his family, and being overwhelmed at the welcome he receives at yours. It includes exchanging gifts and realizing how well you’ve come to know each other, how far you’ve come.
There’s New Year’s too, when their friends somehow convince them to throw a party.
This, Kita hopes, doesn’t become a tradition. It’s fun but loud and involves more people at their home than expected.
In the middle of decadent cakes and champagne, of fireworks and New Year’s Eve countdowns, there’s you wrapping your arms around his waist, whispering into his ear: people say you’ll spend the rest of the year with the person you kiss when the clock strikes twelve, and then proceeding to kiss him stupid.
This, he hopes, becomes a tradition.
There’s birthdays too, and the first birthday they celebrate together is yours.
He throws a little dinner party for that too, at some beautiful rooftop in Tokyo, with the city glimmering around them.
It’s unfortunate that there were no stars visible in the sky, but seeing you, surrounded by family and friends, more than makes up for it.
You both go home, half-stumbling, tipsy on champagne and happiness.
“Baby,” Kita says as he tries to input the house code while trying to support your weight, “You’re not only getting older but heavier.”
“Stop reminding me I’m old. I’m still young and sexy,” you complain. “Besides, you’re the one that’s almost thirty.”
Kita laughs, “Hey, this isn’t about me. This is about you. And the fact that you’re twenty-eight. That’s real late twenties. Remember when you were comforting me with the fact that there’s beauty in all ages?”
“Okay, I know what I said,” You stand upright, looking so seriously sober Kita wonders if this mini existential crisis absorbed all the alcohol in your body. “But I really can’t pretend to not be a real adult anymore, you know?”
“Hate to break it to you, sweetheart,” Kita pushes the door open and in they go, “But you’re not only twenty-seven, you also have a career and you’re married. I think you’ve been a real adult for the past couple of years. Just because you stay up until three in the morning while I’m asleep doesn’t change that.”
You stare at him, “How do you know I do that? I make sure to put a pillow in your arms, so you don’t notice.”
Kita stares right back, unimpressed, “You think a pillow could replace you?”
You suddenly look very, very pleased with that statement, “You’re unreal. Stop flirting with me.”
“You always say that when you want me to continue,” Kita rolls his eyes, “I know you so well.”
You sigh, the sound of it sweet. “Yeah, you do.”
And then after a beat:
“You know what,” you say, like you just thought of it randomly as they’re taking off their shoes and putting their slippers on, “I love being married to you.”
It’s not an “I love you” by any means, but god, does it feel like one.
The words unmoor him, has him steadying himself against the wall, his socked feet halfway in his slippers. When he manages to find his voice, it comes out thick with emotion, “You mean that?”
Upon hearing his voice, you turn to look at him, frowning when you meet his eyes, “Of course I do. Listen, we’re still at the beginning and the road ahead is long, but I love that it’s you I’m doing this with. Didn’t I tell you that I chose well?”
“Mhmm,” Kita nods, his hand coming up to hide his face. “You did,” He says, wetly.
“Are you crying?” you say, voice coming down to a whisper, the way adults usually do with crying children.
Kita hates feeling like a child, hates being treated like one even more, but he finds that he doesn’t take offense at the way you’re talking softly like this.
Maybe it’s the way this hurt you’re soothing is as old as a small child. Maybe it’s the way your words pierce through time, straight through to the child Kita once was, the one that wanted to be loved just the way he was.
Either way, there’s a weight lifted off his chest—unbearably heavy but unnoticed until it was gone. How long did he bear it?
Kita rubs his nose, sniffling as he does, “It’s nothing. I’m just really happy you said that.”
You wrap him in your arms, letting Kita bury his face against your shoulder, softly rubbing his back as you say, “I got lucky with you. I don’t know how I managed to pick someone with a heart so big and rare. Someone who’s also talented and driven and smart. I don’t know.”
Kita feels the same. He got lucky and he doesn’t know why.
But maybe it’s not about deserving. Maybe that part doesn’t even matter at all.
All he knows is he’s never letting go.
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"look how beautifully the stars sing for you and i" 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝⭒˚｡⋆
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