#ouran fanfic

[ellssbellss]

Lavender Roses - Masterlist

-> summary: "Now I could be wrong, but I think we may be witnessing the beginnings of love here." You met his eyes, and realized how true those words really were.

or, you're an honor student who just happens to fall in love with your best friend, kyo.

-> updates: once a month! see schedule

- - - - Starting Today, You are a Host! (pt. 1, pt. 2, pt.3, pt.4,)

- - - - The Job of a High School Host! (pt. 5, pt. 6)

- - - - Beware The Physical Exam! (pt. 7, pt.8)

- - - - Attack of the Lady Manager! (pt. 9)

- - - - The Twins Fight! (pt. 10, pt.11)

- - - - The Grade School Host is the Naughty Type! (pt. 12, pt. 13)

- - - - Jungle Pool SOS! (pt. 14)

- - - - BONUS! Weekend Movie Night (here)

- - - - The Sun, The Sea, and The Host Club! (pt. 15, pt. 16)

- - - - A Challenge from Lobelia Girl’s Academy! (pt. 17, pt. 18)

- - - - A Day In The Life of the Fujioka Family! (pt. 19)

[manias-wordcount]

Hi! I am once again requesting more Tamaki Suou/reader content because I love the way you write him. ♡

Prompt: Tamaki and his spouse (wife or husband or gender neutral, whichever you feel like writing) decide to roleplay while staying at one of the hotels owned by his family. They pretend not to know each other as they flirt endlessly. You can write this full nsfw or just have it be suggestive, but I'll love any playful flirting and teasing.

I hope you like this prompt. Thank you so much for your time and effort! ♡♡♡

Strangers at the Bar (Tamaki Suoh x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺! 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂! 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚 !! 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝘂𝗴𝗴𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺𝗲𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗰𝗿𝗮𝘇𝘆

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

By the time he slides into the stool right beside you, your giddiness almost can’t be contained.

You feel like a little kid again. One with secrets in their heart that are longing to be shared. But you know there’s no fun in that. Especially telling this secret. Not after all the trouble your husband went through to plan all this out for you. Still, very little stops you from buzzing in your seat with a smile that’s too big to be contained for more than a few seconds. Still, you try. It’s the least you could do.

It was your idea at first. Something originally mentioned in passing. The romance between the two of you was alive and well and both your staff and your inner circles could attest to the sickly sweet adoration the two of you shared for each other. But life has always kept you both busy. And being busy often meant being kept apart. So much so that when the two of you finally reunited after long, long periods away, those days together would be spent mostly between the sheets. Cuddled together and glued to each other’s side as if one would disappear if the other were to leave. And as nice as it was, you missed the excitement you both once had. The excitement that came with being young and filled with free time and longing for a certain handsome, blonde stranger you saw staring at you across the room.

So over a phone call across timezones one day, you mentioned how if you had the chance, you’d go back in time to relive the first time the two of you met. Not to do it better. But rather, to soak in all of the fun and excitement that came with being courted by him. By your now husband, Tamaki Suoh. And you remember him getting quiet for a while after you said that. You couldn’t help but wonder if you had unintentionally hurt his feelings in some way due to your statement.

But then you received an itinerary forwarded to your personal email for a week-long stay at one of his family’s nicest, most private hotels in all of Japan. Flights and rooms and spa treatments are included in the package deal, plus a request for you to take the entire time off (and then some) too. But perhaps what made this surprise really special was the little note placed at the bottom of his email instead of an automated signature.

Meet in the lounge on the first night. When you first see me, pretend you don’t know who I am. Let’s start over- I’d like the chance to fall in love with you again.

That was weeks ago. Now? You’re glancing almost shyly at your husband- or rather, the stranger your husband is pretending to be- and sipping at the cocktail you ordered while he very casually gives the bartender his order. There’s a jazz group playing a few light melodies in the background and you swear, the piano player almost draws his attention completely away from you for the night. But then he looks at you. Really looks at you. And so, you look at him. Locking gazes and laying eyes on each other for the first time in what must have been a month and a half of business travel and work keeping the two of you apart.

And at that moment, you can’t help but feel deep down inside that this is exactly like the first time the two of you met. A different place. A different time. A different almost everything. But you’re still you. And he’s still him. So naturally, you know in your heart that he must feel it too.

“Tamaki Suoh,” He (re)introduces himself after a few moments of silence. He ignores the quiet clink of a lowball glass being placed in front of him in favor of reaching a hand out in your direction. You reach out to take his hand with a smile- one that hopefully appears more charming than giddy- but he doesn’t shake it. Instead, he’s quick to scoop up your hand and bring the back to his lips. Bright violet eyes refuse to break eye contact with you as he places a few kisses on the back of your hand, and is struck with the thought that he could truly have anyone in the world if he wanted to. But he doesn’t want just anyone. “And you must be one I’ve been looking for~”

He just wants you.

Admittedly, you couldn’t help but let a few snorts of laughter slip. Immediately, Tamaki goes wide-eyed and alarmed and red in the face as he realizes that after years of not being a host, he’s way out of practice and not so good at the cheesy line thing anymore. But you’re nice enough not to tease him too much. After all, you’ve been breaking character all night despite knowing practically everything he wanted to do to you before sunrise. In your eyes, he’s still your prince charming. And that’s all he’ll ever be. But for right now, you could at least do one thing in his favor.

Pretend he doesn’t have you just yet.

“Hmmm,” You try to cover up the rest of your laughter with a light hum as you start to calm down. At the same time, you reach out your fingers and brush the tops of your nails against the sleeve of his suit jacket. His eyes watch your fingers with a careful, yet heated look. Almost as if a simple action such as that was enough to bring him back into the spirit of things. So you continued, putting on your most sultry voice and matching the intensity of his gaze with a seductive look of your own. “I sure hope you haven’t been looking very long.”

He gives a huff of laughter. His blush is just barely noticeable at this point as he takes the earlier embarrassment in stride. He has changed much over the years. He’s still your Tamaki after all. But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t grown. He’s not the boy you met in high school at a party thrown by your parents. He’s a man now. Your husband now. But it’s getting a little too hard to remember that he’s supposed to be a stranger to you at the moment. A little too hard. 

“Only all my life,” He responds smoothly, eyes peering at yours with a knowing half-smile. The sincerity in his voice was enough to get you to draw in a sharp breath. Even after all these years of dating and marriage and spending all the time that you possibly could together, he still manages to say a little something sweet to knock you off your feet every once in a while. And although you knew you shouldn’t be surprised, you just didn’t expect to feel your heart beat this fast at such a simple line during such a simple time.

Perhaps he has held on to a few more of his skills than you previously thought. Hmmm…

“Well, I’m sorry for the wait, Mister Suoh. It won’t happen again,” You apologize with a faux frown tugging at your lips, almost as if there was truly something to apologize for. At that, his smile grows just a big, almost triumph. Although he’s quick to tense up the moment your fingers start to trail up his jacket sleeve. And as you draw small shapes in the fabric and climb higher and higher up his shoulder, you lean in a bit closer to him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his fingers twitching and flexing in his lap. Looking eager and desperate to reach out towards and grab you. You suppose you should make this easier on him. He was never able to keep his hands off of you for long. “How about I make it up to you?”

At the sound of you whispering in his ear, you can tell that his interest was more than piqued. He had frozen, just for a moment, before leaning into your space as well and tilting his head close to your ear.

“Oh yeah?” His murmur was low, and his breath felt warm as it brushed against your ear. You shivered at the feeling, and you could tell he took delight in it with the way he let out a pleased-sounding hum. At least he had the decency to hide his smile. Though you’re sure that if you looked into his eyes right now, all you would see is the look of a cat who had finally caught the canary after many, many tries. “How?”

That single word felt like a challenge to you. 

“Well…”

And in some ways, it was. It was his money and connections and careful planning that flew you out here to this hotel so the two of you could finally meet after a long, long time apart. It was due to his smooth tongue that the two of you were guaranteed to meet up in a bar that was nearly empty and drinks that were to die for while light jazz filled the room with something more pleasant than silence. It was he who did all this for you. Because of a passing comment. Or perhaps simply, because he wanted and felt this way too. But it was your moment to shine now. Your moment to make it up to him. Your moment to show him what he was missing. And to show him that time and distance and playing pretend…

“We could start in your room? Or mine”

…could never change the way you truly feel about him.

[doumas-whore]

Could you write little scenerios for the host club characters where their s/o is in the hospital coming off of anesthesia and says cute things that make the hosts fall more in love with them? If not that's okay!

VERY OLD ASK AND VERY OLD WRITING BC I LOST MY PASSWORD A BAZILLION YEARS AGO 😭🙏

we’re so back though

haruhi, tamaki, kyoya, and takashi x reader || fluff || warnings: hospital setting? idk

Haruhi Fujioka

She enters your hospital room as soon as she’s allowed to.

“Haruhiiii!” You exclaim in joy as soon as you see her.

“Hey, y/n! How do you feel? she sits at your bedside and smiles warmly.

“Better now that you’re hereee!” you shoot her the biggest grin you could muster.

You stretch your tired legs and rub the sleep from your eyes before looking up at Haruhi once again.

“You look extra pretty today, thank you for visiting me!"

I don’t think she’s ever blushed harder in her LIFE

She’d typically nudge your shoulder playfully and tell you to stop, but she doesn’t wanna hurt you, so she just rolls her eyes with a smile

Tamaki Suoh

He was too busy moping in a corner to realize that you were finally allowing visitors, so he was the last to see you

He’d run up to you all goofy like and be a silly loud boy

“Y/NNNNNN”

…just to get scolded by your nurse LMAO

“y/nnnnnnnn” he’d say (now whispering while speed walking to you)

You tried really hard to stifle your laughter, but you couldn’t help it.

He’s like a…weird little ray of sunshine

“Hi Tamaki!”

He’d instantly go beet red just from hearing your sleepy voice, but that smile of yours?

Goodness me, you’d be lucky if he didn’t blast off into space LOLOLOL

He’d scamper out of the room without another word

You can’t help but chuckle at his antics

“Come back, sillyyyy!”

He’d peak his head through the door frame

“Please?” you’d say with a pout

Tamaki’s heart rate is suddenly 180.

He’d return to your side without second thought

You’d reach out and grab his hand so he can’t leave again

Kyoya Ootori

He’s your first visitor

In fact, he’s in the room before you’re even awake

Something about his father owning the hospital yada yada

He’s really drawn to the peaceful expression on your face

He was worried, but he’d never verbally admit it

Once he notices that you’re waking up, he’s sure to greet you

“Good morning Y/N. How do you feel?” His voice is uncharacteristic soft, lacking it’s usual smugness.

“Huh?” you say with a yawn “what are you doing here?”

He’d smile with a trace of fondness in his softening eyes

“What does it look like? I’m obviously visiting you.”

You can’t help but sigh and roll your eyes.

“You’re so silly, Kyo..”

You rub the sleep out of your eyes, conveniently missing the tinge of pink on his face.

Takashi Morinozuka

He stood guard outside of your room for HOURS

He said it was to protect you? But there wasn’t really anything to protect you from.

He didn’t wanna admit it, he just wanted to see you as soon as possible.

Once you were permitted visitors, he was naturally the first one in there.

He held your hand tenderly in his own. His caresses were feather light, like he was afraid your hand would snap if he wasn’t extremely careful.

“Mori,” You called for him with a slight huskiness to your voice, which was sore from not being used in several hours.

He didn’t want you to speak too much and overexert yourself, so he’d try to guess what you needed before you said anything

You thought it was a little unnecessary, but you liked being doted on, so you didn’t stop it quite yet

[cat3ch1sm]

Idea:

Tamaki (Ohshc) with Fem!reader who dislikes him and finds him annoying. Reader always wears kimono dresses and has a little knife up her sleeve (FOR SELF DEFENSE PURPOSES ONLY). So sometime she hangs around with Haruki and the rest of the club come (she only tolerates Honey cause he looks a kid) and Tamaki starts his romantic antics and she gets pissed so she just swiftly throws the knife very close to his face saying "The next time I won't miss."

She goes to unplug the knife from the wall, accidentally caging Tamaki between her and the wall.

Honestly I have no more ideas,so just go ahead and finish it as you like.

🐸~ hi!! missed you in my inbox <33 thanks for your request! i hardly ever write for ohshc😭 hope u enjoy, ily

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ fem!reader, knives

“It’s nice to spend some time alone with you,” Haruhi confessed, smiling a little awkwardly with a small laugh. “The host club has been all over me lately. I can hardly go to the bathroom without one of them on my tail.”

You and your friend, Haruhi Fujioka, were sitting outside in the courtyard of Ouran High School. Cherry blossom trees surrounding you and the occasional petal or two fluttered down into either of your hair, a gentle breeze blowing on your long dress. It was a free period, meaning students could simply do as they pleased for forty-five minutes. You hadn’t gotten to see Haruhi as often as you used to, so you were glad to steal your friend away for at least a little while.

“I agree.” You nodded, smiling as well. “Only time I’ve gotten to see you lately is when you’re with that infernal host club- and you know I can’t stand them.” Your smile faltered a little, and you folded your arms across your chest, the sleeves of your kimono rustling. “And I only tolerate Honey because he literally looks like a little kid. It feels morally wrong to hate him.”

Haruhi laughed out loud. “Senpai- sorry, Tamaki still bothering you?”

“To no end,” you replied bitterly, rolling your eyes.

“Yeah, he can be pretty persistent. There was a phase for a minute when he was absolutely obsessed with me.” Haruhi cringed as she recalled it. Then she smiled again. “Luckily, when you came into the picture Tamaki totally forgot about me.”

You pursed your lips in a sour manner. “Yeah, you owe me for the rest of your life.”

“I know, I know!”

Haruhi’s amusement was contagious, and the two of you just sat there giggling for a minute before your laughter was cut through with a shrill scream of “Haruhiiiiiiiiiii!”

Haruhi immediately stopped laughing, her expression dropping as her eyes widened. You made a face, recognizing the yell instantly.

Tamaki came barreling towards the two of you, followed from a distance by the rest of the Host Club, tearing through the throngs of students until he finally reached you both.

“Haruhi! I’ve been looking for you all over!” Tamaki cried dramatically, throwing his arms around Haruhi in an exaggerated embrace. Haruhi let out a groan and thrashed around in his grip, snapping at him to get off, but he wasn’t listening. “Daddy was so worried when you weren’t in the music room! Free periods are our busiest time, and we can’t operate without our star host- well, second star host,” Tamaki whined.

“Senpai, I’m with a friend right now,” Haruhi grunted in annoyance, trying to pry his arms off of her. “Do you mind?”

“What friend could possibly be more important than being with us at the host club?” Tamaki demanded, turning vehemently- and that’s when he caught sight of you. You let out a weary sigh, already knowing what was coming next as the blonde’s eyes widened and that irritating lovesick expression softened his face. “Oh- it’s you, Y/N!” Tamaki exclaimed joyfully, abruptly releasing Haruhi and coming to stand in front of you. Haruhi dropped to the ground with a yelp, but when you moved to help her up, Tamaki blocked your way.

“You cannot be serious,” you muttered, dropping your head in exasperation. So much for a quiet period with Haruhi.

Tamaki, as usual, was oblivious to your obvious disinterest. “Why, Y/N- you’re looking even more radiant than usual today! Your skin is absolutely radiant in the sun.” He had that familiar gleam in his eye, the one that usually made girls’ knees buckle and cheeks flush, but all it did was piss you off. “May I humbly ask you to accompany the Host Club and I back to the music room? Such a dull place it is without your lovely presence…” Tamaki sighed as if in distress and placed the back of his hand on his forehead like a swooning maiden. You could practically see the sparkles gleaming off of him, and to be honest, it made you nauseous.

“Mhm,” you answered flatly. “I’ll pass, thanks.”

The rest of the host club had caught up with Tamaki by now, Kyoya and Mori helping a disgruntled Haruhi off the ground where Tamaki had dropped her. One of the girl’s arms in his grip, Kyoya glanced up from behind his glasses, watching the scene between you and Tamaki. “Clearly, Tamaki, she’s very interested in joining you,” he remarked sarcastically. “What a ray of sunshine, hm?”

“Like you’re much better,” you muttered in response. Tamaki hardly noticed Kyoya’s disdain, though.

“You’re interested?” he exclaimed, and before you could react he took your hands in his, twirling you around in a very theatric fashion that, much to your dismay, drew the attention of passersby. “Wonderful! To have someone like you join me at the Host Club… truly you are the most beautiful of them all.”

Your expression remained stony as you broke away from Tamaki’s grasp, smoothing down your kimono and blowing stray strands of hair out of your face. “You say that to every girl you meet,” you answered sourly.

Tamaki paused for a second in surprise, a slightly guilty expression appearing on his face. “Well, yes, but I only really mean it when I say it to you,” he offered sheepishly, hitting you with another one of those disgustingly blinding bright smiles. You let out a heavy sigh in response, and with your patience thinning you thought it best to not say anything.

“Wow, is free period almost over?” you asked offhandedly, checking an imaginary watch on your wrist. “Maybe I should be going-“

“Nonsense!” Tamaki exclaimed. “We still have twenty-five minutes left.” He suddenly reached for your hair, and before you could duck he plucked a pink petal from your head. Grimacing, you watched as he gazed at the petal with a downright corny amount of fondness as he brought it to his face.

“This flower was caught in your hair,” Tamaki explained, his voice sickeningly sweet, and you fought the urge to hit yourself in the head. “You are such a radiant creature that even the flowers wish to remain by your side. I will cherish it forever- as a token of your beauty.”

Tamaki’s dramatic antics had drawn something of a crowd by now- really just a handful of fawning girls who clung to every word he was saying to you. At this last remark they let out a collective squeal that made you wince. Behind Tamaki, Haruhi sent you an apologetic look.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, thoroughly exasperated. “Well, that’s definitely unnecessary. I’ll be going now-“

“But, my love, wait-“ Tamaki started, grabbing your hands again- but by now you’d had more than enough. All in one move, you tore your hands out of his, reached into the large sleeve of your kimono, pulled out a throwing knife, and hurled it at Tamaki with alarming accuracy. It was sheer luck that Tamaki wasn’t impaled through the face, dodging at the last minute, and the knife instead buried itself into a tree directly behind him.

The people around you went dead silent. Haruhi’s eyes were wide as frying pans and the host club members besides Mori and Kyoya wore equally disquieted expressions on their faces. Honey rushed to cower behind Mori’s long legs. Tamaki, eyes wide as well, was frozen against the tree, the knife barely an inch from his temple.

Not even noticing the looks of alarm directed at you, you tsked in slight frustration with yourself for missing. Keeping your gaze straight ahead, you walked straight up to Tamaki, who didn’t move an inch but whose eyes followed you like lasers, and pinning him just beneath you you roughly yanked the knife from the bark of the tree. But before pulling away with your knife in hand, you placed your lips at Tamaki’s ear, making sure only he could hear what you were going to say next.

“Next time I won’t miss.”

[eurydicees]

44 for the taylor prompts?

this ask is a YEAR old, it is TWO THIRTY AM, and i FINALLY got an idea that i couldn't get out of my head for it. here are my humble offerings.

the kind of best man who leaves the wedding first

summary: tamaki and haruhi are getting married. kaoru watches over the remnants of something else that used to be. prompt: the ties were black, the lies were white pairings: tamaki suoh/haruhi fujioka, tamaki suoh/kyoya ootori words: 2103  warnings: none 

Kaoru hums, running his pen in long, curving, meandering lines across a blank piece of paper. Kyoya is talking to him, or, really, he’s talking at him. Kaoru is very much not listening. 

Kyoya has been talking about the same thing for the past two hours—which is two hours worth of talking more than Kaoru really came here to listen to, and two hours more than he had ever expected to come from Kyoya without a breath to pause—and Kaoru would expect to be annoyed, but he’s mostly just tuned him out by now.

The thing is that he can’t really bring himself to be annoyed. Kyoya is just anxious, same as everyone Kaoru spends his time with seems to be these days. To be fair, it’s not like Kaoru himself isn’t also anxious. It’s more that his coping mechanisms for anxiety involve less throwing himself into obsessive planning and organizing and fretting over every detail of every plan, and more taking calming breaths. He’s been in a lot of therapy recently. Him and Hikaru both. He thinks maybe he should recommend someone to Kyoya. 

“—and he asked me to be his best man,” Kyoya says. Ah. Finally. The point. Kyoya’s voice turns low, quiet. “I don’t—just—” 

“You can’t have expected it to be anyone else,” Kaoru points out. He lifts his chin from the palm of his hand to look at Kyoya. “You’re not stupid.” 

Kyoya sighs, pressing his face into his hands; elbows on the table and hunched over. His voice is muffled when he says, “I expected it. That doesn’t mean I’m ready for it.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Kaoru says, rolling his eyes. “You spent three years of high school planning parties on his behalf. You can throw one more.” 

“Fuck, I have to plan the bachelor’s party?” 

Kaoru frowns at him. “Is that not what you were worried about?” 

Kyoya sighs, dropping his hands onto the table and leaning back in his chair. “I was mostly thinking about how terrible Haruhi is at party planning. And how Tamaki will literally do anything to make her dream wedding happen. Even if it’s ridiculous.”

“It’s gonna be terrible,” Kaoru snickers. Which is a little mean, but also. He’s not wrong. 

“Supportive,” Kyoya says, rolling his eyes. “And I—forget it.” 

Kaoru straightens up, setting the pen down and turning to study Kyoya more closely. “What?” 

He and Kyoya have gotten much closer over the years, especially in Kyoya’s third year, when he started training Kaoru to take over his job in the Host Club, and he’s gotten good at reading Kyoya. But this expression is different—he looks contemplative, closed off, unsure, and hidden, all in a way that he hasn’t looked in years. 

Kyoya has gotten so much better at the whole friendship and vulnerability thing as time went on—something Kaoru knows can mostly be attributed to Tamaki—but there are still moments when he shuts down. When he reverts back into a shadow more than a star. Those kinds of moments—this kind of moment—only really comes when he’s scared. 

“Kyoya—”

“It changes people,” Kyoya says, steadily not looking at Kaoru. He reaches out to pick up the pen Kaoru had been doodling with, and he clicks it open and closed again and again and again. “Marriage, I mean. I saw it with my sister. With Honey. With Mori. It just…it changes people. And relationships. Friendships. They change.” 

Kaoru hums. “I suppose.” 

“There are just—fuck. I don’t know.” Kyoya stares at the pen, something distant in his gaze. “There were so many times when I thought—” 

He cuts himself off again, and Kaoru waits. The way to get Kyoya talking is never to ask him a question. Kyoya blinks twice, and Kaoru stiffens. He’s not sure he knows what to do if Kyoya cries. He had prepared for a lot of things when Kyoya called him that morning, telling him to come over immediately and offering no other explanation, but Kyoya crying at his kitchen table is not one of them. 

Kyoya takes a shaky breath and clears his throat. “I don’t know. It’s nothing.” 

“It’s clearly not nothing, Kyoya. C’mon. It’s just me.” 

Kyoya closes his eyes, tipping his head back to angle his face at the ceiling. Kaoru watches, somewhat helplessly, as Kyoya confesses, “There were so many times when I figured I was going to lose him, and it never truly happened. But now…I think this might really be it.” 

“Kyoya…” 

Kyoya swallows, looking down and shaking his head a little. “It’s fine. I knew it was going to happen eventually.” 

Kaoru is quiet. He watches the now twenty-two year old Kyoya as he starts clicking the pen open and closed again, and he sees Kyoya as he used to be. 

Seventeen, in Music Room 3, with Tamaki hooking his chin over Kyoya’s shoulder to look at his laptop screen while they talk about the budget. Haruhi, calling out Tamaki’s name in the distance, asking for a ride home because of the thunderstorm. 

Sixteen, the two of them in that same spot, waltzing without music, Tamaki’s hands on Kyoya so tightly it must hurt; the most honest smile that Kaoru has ever seen on him; a moment that no one else was supposed to see. 

Fifteen, trailing after Tamaki as Tamaki called the twins each by their name. His hands in his pockets, a book under the hook of his arm. Calling out, “Stop bothering them. Let’s go home, Tamaki.” 

And Tamaki—

It dawns on Kaoru, then. “You love him.” 

Kyoya clicks the top of the pen so harshly that it gets stuck. He drops the pen on the table. Now, there’s something angry about his expression more than there is anything sad. Like he can’t even be heartbroken because he’s too caught up in being mad at himself for having the feeling in the first place. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell,” Kaoru says softly. “You can talk to me about it.” 

At that, Kyoya outright laughs. It’s bitter, and tired. “It’s not a secret, Kaoru. He knows. He’s well aware.” 

Kaoru frowns. “Did you tell him?” 

Abruptly, Kyoya stands up, the chair legs scraping back with an awful noise. Kyoya runs a hand through his hand, starting to pace around. He looks like he wants to talk, wants to scream something at the top of his lungs, maybe, but doesn’t have the words to explain what he’s feeling. 

He makes a frustrated noise and drops his hands to his sides. His back is to Kaoru and his face is to the wall when he finally speaks again. 

“We were together,” he says quietly. “Through most of high school.” 

Kaoru’s heart lurches into his stomach. “Oh.”

Kyoya shrugs, the movement stiff. “We both knew it couldn’t last. Our families—and then Haruhi—and we wanted at least one of us to get a happy ending.” 

“Oh,” Kaoru says again. His tongue is too big for his mouth, his teeth too sharp. He feels like he needs to say something else, but what else is there to say? He doesn’t have the words for this either. “Oh.” 

“It’s fine.” Kyoya takes a deep breath, one that echoes around the room. “It’s fine.” 

“Is it?” 

Kyoya turns around. His face is cold, impassive again. “It is. Don’t—we don’t need to talk about this again.” 

“Okay,” Kaoru says quietly. 

He looks down at where the pen has rolled onto the scraps of paper Kyoya had been sitting in front of. When Kaoru had come into the kitchen, all of the paper had already been there, but he hadn’t actually looked at any of it before starting to doodle over one. 

Now, he pulls a piece of the lined notebook paper towards himself to take a closer look. 

“Is this your best man's speech?” Kaoru asks. 

Kyoya sighs. “It’s terrible.” 

Kaoru reads another few lines. “It could use some editing.” 

“I was trying to be funny.” 

“Yeah, but you’re not funny.” 

“Thanks.” 

Kaoru snorts. “This line’s funny.” 

Kyoya steps over, leaning over Kaoru’s shoulder to see the line he’s pointing out with his finger. “That one was supposed to be sincere.” 

“Yeah, okay,” Kaoru says, sighing. “We’ve got a few months, let’s work on this.” 

He and Kyoya spend the next few months working on the speech, amongst other things. By the end of it, Kaoru has memorized it himself, and he could probably give the speech in Kyoya’s stead if Kyoya were to bail at the last minute. But for all that Kaoru can tell Kyoya is hurting over this, he knows Kyoya isn’t going to bail. Kyoya may be hurting, but he’s much too loyal to Tamaki to disappear when Tamaki needs him—the last time Tamaki will need him like this. 

The thing is—Kyoya claims to have always known that he and Tamaki wouldn’t have lasted. But Kaoru is sure that doesn’t make it any easier to handle watching the love of your life get married to someone else. It doesn’t make it any easier to deal with watching your best friend walk into someone else’s care. 

It’s not like Tamaki is helping make it any easier, either. 

He’s as oblivious as ever. With each passing day of wedding planning that Tamaki painfully ropes Kyoya into in an attempt to make it perfect, it’s clear that Tamaki has no idea that Kyoya is still in love with him. 

Tamaki asks him for advice on suits and Kyoya’s eyes linger too long and Tamaki just basks in the attention. He makes Kyoya help out with music choices, despite everyone knowing Tamaki is the one with good music taste. Kyoya is with them at almost every planning meeting, and some of it can be reasoned down to not letting the two of them make the decisions, but it also looks like it’s killing Kyoya every time he comes back to report to Kaoru. 

“The colors are going to be a kind of blue sea foam and pale pink,” Kyoya says tiredly. “Haruhi wanted green and purple. Tamaki wanted aqua and lavender.” 

It’s everything I can never have with anyone, his eyes say. It’s everything I wanted with him. 

“Thank fuck you were there,” Kaoru says. 

I’m so sorry, his own expression says. 

Now that Kaoru knows that the two of them were together, he sees it everywhere. He makes a photo album for Tamaki and Haruhi, and it’s in every photo he can find from high school. He helps Honey with a video reel, and it’s in the way the two of them gravitate towards each other at every opportunity. He writes his own speech, and it’s in every memory he has of the two of them in the same place at the same time. 

The day of the wedding comes, and it’s beautiful, and they all give their speeches, and they exchange memories and photos and gifts. Both Tamaki and Haruhi are breathtaking in their suits. Ranka cries. Kaoru cries. Hikaru does too, but he won’t ever admit it, despite the many eyewitnesses. 

It’s after the ceremony, when they’re all celebrating at the reception, that Kaoru spots Tamaki going over to Kyoya. Kyoya is nursing a glass of champagne at a table by himself, and Tamaki seems to be trying to convince him to dance. 

Tamaki is looking at him pleadingly in that annoyingly convincing way he does and from where Kaoru is standing with Honey and Reiko on the dance floor, it looks like Kyoya is about to give in, in the same way that he always does. Then, before Kyoya can nod and stand and take just one dance with Tamaki, Haruhi comes up to them and wraps a hand around Tamaki’s waist. 

It’s not possessive and there’s certainly no malice, because that’s not the kind of person Haruhi is, but the shift in Kyoya’s body language is easy to read even from a distance. Haruhi says something that Kaoru can’t hear, and then she’s stepping back, Tamaki’s hand in hers. 

Tamaki smiles at Kyoya, a little sad, and kisses his cheek. It’s a gentle, lingering motion. It must burn. Then he turns and follows Haruhi to go dance as a married couple. 

Kaoru is pretty sure he’s the only one watching Kyoya, so he’s the only one who gets to see Kyoya put the tips of his fingers to his cheek. Who gets to see him take a deep breath, and then drop his hand. 

And then he’s the only one who notices when Kyoya stands, gathers his suit jacket, places a single envelope on the table, and leaves the wedding early.

[rustycopper4use]

Could I request a Mori x m!reader fic, oneshot

Basically, reader likes to crossdress and acts like a girl and no one at the school(forgot the name of the school the host club is on) and Mori is the only one to know somehow?

Smudged Kisses From An Angel

 A mori x male reader request.

  You were just like another male student in Ouran Academy, you came from money, as the sole heir to japans biggest makeup company.

 The only difference was you like to use your family’s products.   

  Your father could care less about this, his just pleased that you’re promoting his products.

 You liked feminine clothing, dresses, skirts, and heels. You adored makeup of all forms. Something about the form of expression made you feel like yourself. 

 You would even wear this to school, no one said anything really, till one day you figured out why. 

  You overheard a group of boys talking about you! And you figured out everyone thought you were a girl. Of course this didn’t bother you, you didn’t care if people saw you as one or the other. After a few weeks during the new school semester, you were searched out by a flamboyant blonde.

 Apparently you gain some popularity and admirers for your looks. And now you were invited to be the host clubs first official hostess! You didn’t bother to correct the blonde.

  You were referred as the flirtatious type, you’ve never flirted a day in your life, but you were bit of a theatrical person and loved playing roles.

 Since then you’ve been gaining more and more popularity, and love notes.

 You tend to be more closer with Mori, and Haruhi.

 However you and Mori tended to be around each other more often, it got to the point where you two had your own minor fan club, people who adored the silent type with a confident flirt.

 You enjoyed the calm he brought around him, a comfortable silence.

 He would listen to your rants, your endless knowledge of makeup and style theories. He never made you feel like you’re being too much or boring him.

 Everything about him felt easy, nothing was forced. Which led you to fall head over heels. 

 It was like he put a spell on you. Your heart skips a beat seeing him, you felt very aware how hot your face got. And every thought was about him. 

 You were done for.

After many sleepless nights, rewriting the same note only to decide to just do it in person.

 But before you could celebrate, a dreadful realization hits you like a truck.

 He wasn’t aware of that you were a male, sure you could lie about it but in the end you couldn’t do it in good faith.

 You knew he wouldn’t do anything bad if he found out, but still there was a sliver of doubt plaguing your mind.

 And with a heavy heart you would have to tell him.

 You made your way to the Host room, dreaded every step closer, heart beating faster. You would rather crawl home and hide forever right at the moment.

 You open the door with a shaky sigh. You saw the club already with there guests, you walk towards Mori, rehearsing your script in your head.

 “Sorry ladies. Do you mind if I borrow Mori?” You smiled, trying to ignore how nauseous you are.

 A few girls swooned, jumping to less than savoury conclusions.

 “Mori do you mind?” 

 He gets up and follows you. You lead him to an empty room, out of earshot from the rest of the club.

 You took a nervous inhale.

“Uh- sorry for dragging you away from you guests but uh-… I just have something I really needed to say. I really liked you, and have for a while now..” 

 Mori opens his mouth to say something but you stop him.

 “-And before you say anything, I uh- just wanted you to be aware that I’m not really.. um a girl you know? I’m a guy that likes to dress feminine, and act as such. Sorry if it’s weird, or makes You uncomfortable, but uh-“ you nervously play at your manicure nails.

 “-I’m happy the way I am, I just thought you should know. So I’m not disappointing you or something.” Your voice got quieter which each word.

 You looked off to the side, not wanting to see his reaction.

 After what felt like hours of torturing silence, Mori finally spoke.

  “I already knew about that. You have to worry about it.” He calmly spoke.

  “How? No one else knew, not like it was a secret but.” Your heart was pounding in your ears.

 “Because’ I’ve overheard you and Haruhi talk about it.” Mori explained.

  “I- of course it was that simple.” You groaned.

  “And here I was gonna cry and ruin my makeup, over something you already knew about.” 

 “But that still doesn’t answered one question.” You look up at him.

 “Do you actually like me?” You nervously spoke.

 He gave a soft smile before giving a nod.

 “Of course I do.”

Your heart was beating faster than possible. Your face flushed a deeper colour.

  “Uh- can I kiss you then?” You gave a shaky smile.

 He smiled and pulled you in.

He touch left bolts of electric throughout your body, and you pulled back with a smile.

 “That’s a good colour on you.” You teased, noticing the lipstick mark on his lips.

 Before he could questioned you, you pulled him back in. You kissed him back with you more in control now. You kissed all over his face, and a few on his neck and collarbone for good mesure.

 “Now that my heart isn’t about to leap out of my chest, I have to ask, are you few tomorrow?” You grinned.

 You guys left the room half an hour later. You looked amazing, your makeup still in perfect quality.

 However the same can’t be said for Mori. His hair was ruffled, and now he covered in your shade of lipstick. You dropped him off back to his group.

 “Sorry for taking so long.” You cooed at the group. They fangirled out over Mori’s state.

 You left with a grin.

AHHHGG I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH <333 THank you for this idea!!

[nanawritesit]

Being the Unofficial Gardener of the Ouran High School Host Club Headcanons

anonymous said: “Hi! I've read your rules and i really like the ohshc thing you did so I'm going to request if that's ok? this is like an Oc without a name, Reader is the quote and unquote gardener of the host club. ( i cannot believe they just don't have a supplier when they use that many flowers i mean c'mon) Their grandpa owns a successful business selling flowers. Reader's grandpa raised them, Thats because readers mom died giving birth to them and readers dad died of cancer. (Reader used to get bullied for this since all the other kids at school thought their grandpa was going to sell them). Reader kind of has this standoffish personality. but just doesn't know how to communicate properly when you get to know them, they're actually really goofy.”

It’s true, the host club could never function without a reliable flower supplier. And lucky you, your grandfather happened to own the most successful flower business in the country. That’s how you were able to afford going to Ouran Academy.

The partnership began during your first year there. You shared a few classes with Kyoya, but you were never very close with him because of his intimidating family background.

He was also a bit intimidated to talk to you because of your closed off personality, and the rumors that had been going around about you being bought from your parents by a strange old man for garden labor didn’t help.

However one day, he decided to listen in on a conversation you were having with one of your friends. You were talking about a great sale your grandfather had made to supply flowers for a government ceremony.

He immediately felt guilty for falling victim to vicious gossip, but connected the dots about your family quickly. And of course, that got the gears in his head turning.

He was still in the early planning stages of founding the Host Club with Tamaki, and securing a trustworthy flower supplier was something they had been worried about

So, being the strategic communicator he is, he smoothly approached you and invited you over to the Ootori residence for a cup of tea

You were shocked that someone with such high status as him was interested in associating with you, but as soon as you realized it was a business proposition, you opened up a bit more

You were happy to get your grandfather another customer, especially one as wealthy as Kyoya, and soon you were making plans on what flowers and what arrangements he wanted

Fast forward to now, you’re both second years and the Host Club is thriving, you almost can’t keep up with the amount of flowers they go through

Most of the work you do is behind the scenes, so you didn’t really get to interact with any of the other club members

That was, until one day when your grandfather asked you to make a delivery to the club with a huge batch of flowers so he could attend a business meeting

You were nervous, but agreed anyway. Luckily there weren’t any guests in the music room yet, just the club members

Immediately a gush of rose petals blew in front of your face, and the sight of six handsome guys greeted you

You just stood there like a deer in the headlights

Tamaki was the first to approach you, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it

“Ah, what a beautiful blossom that’s bloomed before us as our first guest today. Would you do me the honor of telling me your name, my princess/prince/ noble?”

“Y/N?” a voice suddenly asked. You both looked over to see Kyoya entering the room, surprised to see you but not at all displeased.

“You know each other?” Tamaki gasped.

“Yes, this is Y/N Y/L/N. They’re the grandchild of our flower supplier. It’s all thanks to them that we have enough flowers for all our events.”

All the guys immediately started crowding you, asking you a million questions at once.

You were a little overwhelmed, but just smiled politely and answered all their questions.

“You’re so lovely, it’s a wonder I haven’t seen you around the academy before.” Tamaki smirked, flirtatious as always.

“Well, I tend to hang out in the shadows. Back in middle school everyone made up rumors about me and it made me a bit of a loner.” you explained with a shy chuckle.

“Yeah, I heard your parents went bankrupt and sold you to their old loan shark to get out of debt.” Hikaru commented nonchalantly.

“Yeah, and I heard you’re an indentured servant who has to do hard physical labor everyday after school.” Kaoru added.

Tamaki immediately turned around and scolded them, waving his arms and yelling at them to be more polite in the presence of a lady/ gentleman/ noble.

“It’s okay Tamaki, I’m used to them all by now.” you chuckled. “My parents actually passed away when I was younger and left me in the care of my grandfather.”

“Y/N-chan, do you help grow the flowers too?” Honey asked excitedly, gazing up at you with huge eyes.

“Yes, I do actually! My grandfather taught me everything he knows about gardening, and it’s something I really enjoy doing!” you responded.

“Wow. That’s cool.” Mori said flatly. Although you could tell it was sincere.

“Why haven’t you introduced us to them before, Kyoya-senpai?” Haruhi asked, turning to the vice-president.

“I didn’t mean to keep them from you, there was just never an avid opportunity. But I suppose now is a good a time as any to make the introduction.” Kyoya answered, adjusting his glasses and turning towards you. “Y/N, meet the Ouran High School Host Club.”

They each went down the line telling you their names and types, which was quite entertaining. You had heard of the club’s popularity but never gotten around to visiting them.

“I’m sorry we go through so many flowers. It must be difficult to grow so many.” Haruhi said sympathetically.

“Oh it’s no strain on the business, I actually tend to most of your club’s stock personally so that my grandfather can focus on his other sales.” you reassured her. “However, I do sometimes wish I could grow more plants. I could probably run an entire garden just for the Host Club!”

Tamaki’s eyes immediately lit up. “Y/N, that’s a marvelous idea!”

“Hm? Oh no, I was only joking…” you laughed nervously.

“Actually, that might be a useful investment.” Kyoya began, placing his fist under his chin in thought. “It would be nice to have our own garden and not have to worry about business transactions.”

“Senpai, Y/N can’t grow us an entire garden for free!” Haruhi exclaimed. You were touched that she was immediately on your side.

“Don’t be silly, we’ll pay them an adequate salary.” Kyoya told you. “And of course a small share will be given to their grandfathers business as a courtesy.”

“I want to grow lots of pink flowers!” Honey cheered, jumping up and down in excitement.

“Think of all the schemes we could pull with a whole garden of flowers at our disposal!” the twins beamed in unison, joining hands and twirling around.

“I can see it now… lush bushes of roses and hydrangeas, hanging branches of cherry blossoms and orchids, cobblestone paths lined with lillies and tulips!” Tamaki declared, striking a grand pose at the center of the room. “Get ready men, because soon the Ouran Host Club will have a brand new garden!”

You looked around at all the chaos unfolding before you. Kyoya was already typing up a budget on his computer, Mori was chasing Honey around the room as he threw handfuls of rose petals in the air, and Haruhi just stood there with her head in her hands.

“I had to make a joke, didn’t I…” you sighed to yourself.

While you were initially overwhelmed at the daunting prospect of creating an entire garden, it turned out to not be so bad. Kyoya handled most of the property scouting and landscaping with his endless business connections. You were pretty much just in charge of picking what flowers to grow and taking care of them.

And so, everyday after school, you would go to the new garden behind the building and tend to your flowers :) Your grandfather was very happy that you were making friends and spending less time at the business

Haruhi would usually come by to help you water the plants when she needed to sneak away from the chaos of the club

She loved your chill personality, and you always made her laugh and forget her stress in a second :)

You had your suspicions about her gender from the beginning, but you never really cared. You didn’t really see people as labels, just who they where on the inside. It was this mindset that actually made her comfortable enough to confide her secret in you!

Honey would sometimes come by and bring you some cakes that were leftover from the club activities, and you’d sit on a swing and eat them together <3

Sometimes he would bring Mori along, and while you were a little shy around him, you were happy to see that he was also interested in your gardening. He would often ask you what different flowers symbolized, and what kind of care certain flowers needed

The twins would come by to gather flowers for their various schemes, and would often encourage you to take a break and have some fun with them!

The three of you would run around the gardens, playing tag and hide and seek until you were all so tired you were sprawled out in the grass, panting and laughing wildly

Kaoru was happy to see Hikaru finally opening up to someone, and would sometimes try to give the two of you space to talk by yourselves

Hikaru could listen to you talk about flowers for hours and never get bored. He also liked to tuck them behind your ear, smiling at how pretty you looked <3

Tamaki always seemed to be busy tending to his numerous princesses, but every once in a while he would come by to thank you for making this all possible

And of course, he couldn’t help but flirt with you a bit :)

“All these gorgeous blossoms… and yet none of them compares to your beauty, my dear.”

You would’ve fallen for him had you not been so smart

Kyoya was probably the one you saw most often, as he was the one you knew the longest and the one who planned out most of the garden

He was always making sure you had enough equipment and starts, and discussing new arrangement ideas with you

“Are you sure it’s not too much work for you, Y/N?” he asked sincerely.

“Oh it’s not too bad, it’s not like I’m working myself to the bone.” you reassured him. “I mean yeah, it would be nice to have some help, but it would have to be from someone who understands gardening.”

“Why don’t you start a gardening club?” he proposed.

You jaw unhinged in shock. “Oh Kyoya, that’s a wonderful idea, but I don’t know the first thing about starting a club.”

“I do, and I can help you. I founded this club after all.” he smiled, adjusting his glasses.

After a few weeks of paperwork and meeting with the school board, you became the president of the Ouran High School Gardening Club :)

The guys were all so proud of you, they decided to host a ball in your honor!

You were hesitant at the idea, still a bit self conscious of all the rumors that had been spread about you in the past

But after much convincing, you agreed. The twins even got you a custom ball outfit from their mother’s fashion line!

Tamaki took his place at the foot of the staircase to greet all the guests, making your heart beat out of your chest from behind the double doors.

“Welcome princesses, princes, and nobles of Ouran Academy! Thank you so much for attending this ball in celebration of the founding of the Ouran Gardening Club! The president of this club is someone that the Host Club is very close with. In fact, if it weren’t of them, there wouldn’t be a single rose petal at any of our events. Please join me in welcoming Y/N Y/L/N!”

You then made your entrance, a light downpour of rose petals floating around you as you descended the staircase <3

You looked around to see everyone cheering for you and smiling at you admiringly. You started wondering why you ever retreated into the shadows in the first place. It was almost enough to bring a tear to your eye.

Halfway through your decent, you looked down to see all seven members of the Host Club holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers! They must have asked your grandfather what they were ;)

As you reached the bottom of the staircase, the applause ended. Then, all the guys held out their bouquets to you with warm smiles.

“Thank you for being our gardener Y/N!”

[lilacskiesapothecary]

“…The way you Walk…”

OHSHC x You

Tamaki was standing near the school entrance when he notices you walking past him. Instantly, his heart skips a beat and he's smitten! Tamaki, being the dramatic and romantic guy he is, can't resist the opportunity to impress you.

He springs into action, making sure to shower you with attention. Tamaki starts by organizing a grand welcome committee for you in the Host Club, complete with confetti and a red carpet. He gathers the host club members and instructs them to treat you like royalty.

Tamaki then takes you on a whirlwind tour of the school, showing them all the hidden treasures and secret spots. He's constantly by your side, offering compliments and making you feel special. Tamaki even serenades you in a private one on one with his beautiful violin playing, capturing your heart with his talent.

Throughout the day, Tamaki goes above and beyond to make you feel cherished. He surprises you with little gifts, writes heartfelt poems, and even attempts to perform daring stunts to impress you (though sometimes they end in hilarious mishaps).

His efforts don't go unnoticed, and you can't help but be charmed by Tamaki's genuine affection and enthusiasm. You find yourself falling for his charismatic personality and kind heart. You tell him that he doesn’t need to keep showering you with gifts. And that you fell for him just as hard the moment he came over to speak to you.

Kyoya, the master strategist, notices you walking past him and something inside him changes. He realizes he has developed feelings for you and decides to approach the situation with his signature calm and calculated demeanor.

Kyoya begins by observing you from a distance, analyzing your interests, hobbies, and personality. He gathers information about your likes and dislikes, paying attention to the smallest details. Armed with this knowledge, Kyoya carefully plans his moves to impress you.

He starts by subtly finding opportunities to interact with you engaging in conversations and showing genuine interest in your thoughts and opinions. Kyoya strategically positions himself to be in the same social circles as you, ensuring that your paths cross frequently.

As your interactions increase, Kyoya uses his intelligence and resourcefulness to provide you with valuable insights and assistance. He offers you advice, helps them with your studies or projects, and even surprises them with thoughtful gestures that align perfectly with your interests.

Kyoya's strategic approach doesn't stop there. He strategically arranges situations where he can showcase his talents and skills, impressing you with his intelligence and capabilities. Whether it's excelling in academics, leading a successful business venture, or solving complex problems, Kyoya ensures you sees his abilities firsthand.

Throughout his carefully planned endeavors, Kyoya remains composed and never lets his emotions overshadow his actions. He maintains a respectful distance, allowing you to feel comfortable while subtly hinting at his growing affection.

As time goes on, Kyoya's efforts pay off. You start to notice his genuine care and the thoughtfulness behind his actions. You appreciate his intelligence, his strategic thinking, and the way he always seems to be there when you need him.

Gradually, Kyoya's carefully laid plans lead to a blossoming romance. You realizes that behind Kyoya's calm and composed exterior lies a heart full of affection and devotion. Together, you two embark on a journey of love, trust, and mutual admiration, creating a beautiful bond that surpasses all expectations.

Mori notices you walking past him, and something about you catches his attention. He finds himself inexplicably drawn to you and falls for you in his own gentle and protective way.

Mori, being the strong and silent type, doesn't immediately express his feelings. Instead, he observes you from afar, taking note of your actions, your interests, and your interactions with others. He quietly admires your kindness and grace, and his heart begins to flutter whenever you’re around.

As Mori's feelings deepen, he can't help but show his affection in his own unique way. He becomes incredibly protective of you, always keeping a watchful eye on you, making sure you’re safe and comfortable. He's like a guardian angel, silently looking out for you without ever asking for anything in return.

Whenever you’re in need or facing a challenge, Mori is there, ready to lend a helping hand. He becomes your pillar of support, offering a strong shoulder to lean on and a calming presence in times of distress. His gentle nature shines through as he provides comfort and reassurance with just a simple touch or a warm smile.

Mori's actions speak louder than words. He may not verbalize his affection, but his protective gestures and unwavering presence convey his feelings loud and clear. His gentle touch, his reassuring gaze, and his unwavering loyalty become his love language, expressing his deep care and admiration for you.

You begin to realize Mori's affectionate nature and the depth of his feelings. You feel safe and cherished in his presence, knowing that Mori will always be there to support and protect you.

You find solace in each other's presence, knowing that they have found a love that is as strong as it is tender.

🔴Black Friday Sale🔴

[squ1dnapper]

FANDOMS I WRITE FOR !

A comprehensive list of fandoms I’ll write for :)

TV SHOWS / FILMS :

Bridgerton

Hannibal

Severance

Stranger Things

The Last of Us

The Rookie

ANIME / ANIMATED :

Beastars

Bojack Horseman

Ghibli Movies

Inside Job

Kakegurui

My Hero Academia

Ouran Highschool Host Club

Saiki K

Spy X Family

GAMES :

FNAF

Feel free to request from any of these fandoms (SFW or NSFW). If you wanna request stuff from other fandoms DM me to see if I can write for them :)

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

Three For Tension

read on AO3

~1k, Suoh Tamaki/Ootori Kyouya/Fujioka Haruhi, T-rating, Canon AU Summary: Kyouya's strength rivals Mori-senpai's whenever he becomes genuinely angry. Tamaki sees it aimed at Haruhi's harasser.

[ellssbellss]

(NEW!) Lavender Roses ~ (Kyoya Ootori x F!Reader)

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

-> summary: Frowning, Kyoya flipped onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow and draping the covers over his head. He can take anger from anyone else, even his parents. Even Tamaki, who always found that Kyoya had been right, in the end.  But you. You were mad at him.

-> word count: 20.7k

legend:

(n/l) - native language

(j/c) - jewelry color

if you would like to be added to the taglist -> comment here! or else you won't be added :(

see masterlist! masterlist

A Day In The Life Of The Fujioka Family!

The sound of your breath entering your lungs has never been more deafening. But you force yourself to focus on it, ignoring the frantic rhythm of your heart or the sweat on your brow. The rush of a deep breath in, deep breath out is all you need to hear as you surge forward, your fist echoing as it impacts with leather. 

“Again.” 

(E/c) eyes flicking up to brown ones, you plead. “But–”

“Again.” 

Jaw clenching, you force yourself to refocus. A grunt pushes against your throat as you jab again, but the bag barely moves. 

“You’re hesitating.” Black hair peaks from behind the hanging punching bag, and Mori’s mouth shifts into a serious line. “Follow through with your shoulder.”

“I am.” You huff, throwing your hands up in an exasperated movement. “I’m just not strong enough to push it back.” 

Mori levels you with his glance and you roll your eyes. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Don’t say dumb shit.” He retorts, and you twist your mouth. You’ve never heard Morinosuka cuss before until you started training with him. It seems that he likes to let loose a little when he is working out.

“I thought you had to be respectful in a dojo.” Squaring your shoulders, you bring your fists back to your sides, falling into a natural stance. You direct your attention back to the bag that hangs from the serene, wooden ceilings. “Isn’t there a rule where you can’t cuss?”

“I own the dojo, (Y/n).” Mori readjusts behind the bag, bracing it. “Go again.”

Sucking air through your teeth, you hold it as you jab again, this time leaning your entire body into the punch. You let the breath out as you connect with the bag, but instead of backing away instantly, you let your fist sink into the leather. It makes a smacking sound, and the bag is pushed slightly backward on its chain. 

Throwing up your bruised fists, you cheer, the sound echoing off the Hinoki walls. Your chest huffs, your shoulders are pulsating, but you feel so powerful. It was freeing. 

An appreciative hum resonates from the leather bag, and Mori shifts away from it again. “That’s better.”

“That was so good, (N/n)-chan!” 

You bring your gaze to the mat on your right, Honey-senpai sparring a man that looked to be thrice his size. Muscles bulged from under his gi, veins rising from under his pale skin. Both fighters were huffing, but Honey managed to throw you a thumbs up before facing his opponent once more. 

Honey crouched down slightly, dirty-blonde bangs covering his milk chocolate eyes, but his smile only grew. The man in front of the third-year winced, and you scoffed at his expression.

“You know,” You whisper to Mori as tension fills the space. “I’ve never seen a man with that kind of physique be so close to shitting his pants.” 

The stoic nodded his head, chuckling like he knew exactly what you meant. He passed over your water bottle, and you both took a break to watch the battle of strength. 

The match was over before you could even undo the cap. 

Honey surged forward, pushing off the balls of his feet to get behind the man who had barely taken his first step. The boy-lolita swung a kick into the man’s lower back, making the Hulk arch his spine. With that arch, Honey grabbed the man’s hand that had come around to support the area that was injured and flipped him over his shoulder, taking the shape of curved brush of paint on a canvas. 

The Hulk landed flat onto his back with a gasp, lungs being forced to lose his breath as he wheezes. 

Previously a menacing silhouette, Honey raises his head, unceremoniously shaking his bangs from his face. A bright smile contradicts his opponent's grimace, and he thrusts his hand out for the man to grasp. The Hulk is brought to his feet, huffing and wincing, and Honey looks at him with gleaming eyes. 

“Thank you so much.” He says with a bow, cute and short. “You were a worthy opponent, Botan-senpai.” 

The Hulk-, you mean Botan, just nods. There isn’t remorse on his face when he shakes hands with the young martial arts master, however. Just respect and wonder dancing in his irises. He steps off the mat, limping from the power of being thrown around like a rag doll. You give him a sympathetic look before your gaze is being caught by Honey’s and he reaches his hand out. 

“You ready, (N/n)-chan?”

Oh. Shit.

“I don’t think–” Before you can find an excuse to keep yourself off of that mat of death, Mori is pushing you forward by the small of your back. 

“You won’t get better if you don’t practice.” The stoic reminds you, and you just scoff. 

“Yeah, but I can’t get better if I die right here.”

Honey-senpai just smiles, bright and ignorant, as if he doesn’t know the amount of fear he can instill into those who oppose him. “Don’t worry, (N/n)-chan, I’ll go easy on you.”

A worried chuckle bursts from your lips. “See, what do you mean by easy? Because my understanding of ‘easy’ could be very different from yours.”

“Ready?” You hear Mori’s voice begin to countdown the match, and Honey hunches forward again, giving you a proud smirk. Okay, maybe he does realize how menacing he can be. 

Your feet sink into the padding of the mat. “Wait, wait, can I at least get a head start? Give me a minute to get comfortable with the moves.”

“No time. Set…” Mori says, and you can hear him trying to keep the laughter out of his voice. 

The world around you begins to blur. “Oh god. If I die, tell Tama that he can have my hoodies. And tell those twins to stay out of my wardrobe! I don’t want them pulling off my outfits better than I can.” You scramble yourself into a fighting stance, as if that would give you a chance. 

“Go!” Mori’s voice rings throughout the dojo, and you tense as a blur of white gold and honey sweeps you off your feet. Grunting, your back hits the mat with a smack, your face frozen in amazement and shock.

But you’re still breathing, and your heart continues to beat with the adrenaline of facing Honey-senpai. 

“I’m alive.” It comes out as a surprised whisper, but then you shoot your fists in the air. “Ha, I’m alive!”

Honey and Mori come to stand over you, a smile full of teeth from the boy-lolita while Mori just shakes his head. 

“Of course you’re alive, silly!” Honey cheers as Mori helps you back onto your feet. “I don’t hurt my friends.”

“Awe, I know, Senpai.” You smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair. “You’re still terrifying when you want to be.”

He hugs you around your waist, his chin resting on your hip as he looks up at you. “But not too scary, right?”

You just laugh, returning the hug. “Not at all.” 

Feeling a large hand clap the back of your shoulder, you turn in your hug to see the tall host with the corners of his mouth lifted. “You did well.”

Biting your lip, you shake your head. “Um, no. I’m pretty sure I just got knocked onto my ass.”

“But you tried to protect yourself, (N/n)-chan!” Honey compliments from closer to the ground. “Before we started, you brought your fists up to protect your face, like this!” With a determined smile, he demonstrates a defensive stance, eyes wide and glowing. “You’re learning!”

“But I didn’t even mean to do that.”

“Good.” Mori says, and the three of you walk to the cubbies lined along one of the intricate walls. “That means it’s instinct.”

“A really good instinct! The first thing about learning how to fight, (N/n)-chan, is learning how to protect yourself first.” The martial arts master put his hands on his hips, looking up at you with all the pride and love in the world. 

“Protecting myself first, huh?” Moving to your own cubby, you reached into your workout bag, pulling out a towel to dry the sweat off your face. 

It’s been a while since you’ve felt this good. Wrapping the cloth around the back of your neck, you realize that you’re smiling even as you huff out breaths. Your heart is drumming in your chest not because of anxiety, not because of a boy, but because of your own progress and work. It felt rewarding. 

Of course, you missed the different kind of way your heart would skip a beat at the smallest of touches from your director, or the warmth you felt when he gave you praise. The comfort of working so well with someone, or being okay and understanding with anything you do. 

Except, Kyoya wasn’t okay with anything you did. Or understanding. Not at the end. 

Sighing, you brought the towel around the back of your neck. It was…interesting now, between the two of you. Since you both agreed to be civil, you were back to working together smoothly. Late night study sessions weren’t as frequent, but at least they were constant. And that was okay.

It was okay because you realized that you shouldn’t have to push someone to be that warmth for you, that comfort. Kyoya wanted to be that for someone else, and while it hurt, it was just something you were going to have to accept. Your families were still important to each other, and you both were still incredibly devoted to the host club, so you didn’t have to worry about not being in each other’s lives. But you were grateful, in the end. 

Why did he have to be that source for you, of all people? Why couldn’t you find that somewhere else? Or maybe even be that for yourself? That’s why you were doing this. Training with Mori and Honey, going to coffee with Arai, focusing on your school work. If the people around you didn’t want to support you in those certain aspects, then you would do it yourself. Like you always have. 

Even if he was a dick about it, he gave you a chance to recapture your independence with fervor. And it gave you a new mission. 

Picking up your phone, you ignore a text from Arai telling you about a club he was going to tonight and reply to an unread message from Haruhi. 

Loml <3: Hey, is there anything specific you want for tonight? My dad wants to know which tea you like so he can make it before he leaves for work. 

Smiling, you type away, picturing Haruhi’s dad, Ranka, flailing around with worry over the many bags of tea in his cabinet. 

You: hey! just got finished at the dojo. i’m pretty easy, whatever you choose! Tell Ranka anything is fine!

Loml <3: Cool, no rush. Just let me know when you’re on your way. I’ll meet you outside. 

You: will do. :)

“Alright, boys.” Clicking your phone off, you lug your bag onto your shoulder. “I have to go. Thanks for kicking me into shape.”

“Where are you going, (N/n)-chan?” Honey looks up, frowning slightly. “You don’t want to stay for cake?”

Chuckling, you ruffle his hair again. “Not this time. I’ll share one with you after this weekend is over.” 

Immediately, his frown flipped into a smile. “Okay! Thanks for training with us today!”

You hum, appreciative and warm. “Thank you for finally getting me out of bed.”

“It was hard.” Mori grumbles, which morphs your hum into another laugh. Mori barely moves when you playfully punch him in the shoulder, only lifting his lips in a smirk.

“That’s going to hurt one day, I promise you.”

“Not if you don’t follow through.”

“Yeah, yeah, so wise.” Taking a deep breath, they walk you to the door way. “Seriously, though. It was nice to get rid of some pent up energy. Thanks.”

Mori just nods while Honey clasps his hands together, beaming up at you. “Of course, (N/n)-chan. You know you’re always welcome here.”

A warm beam of emotion rushes from his smile into your bloodstream, and you sigh. “I do know that.” Waving a hand, you turn and make your way to your driver parked outside. “I’ll see you both here next week!”

After a salute from Mori and an excited motion from Honey, you step into your car. The Lexus drives away from the warmth of your family and to the emptiness of that house. But that was fine. This weekend, at least, you wouldn’t have to deal with it. 

Day turned into night, the sky creating a canvas above your vast house. Packing your overnight bag reignited your nerves about tonight, but taking a shower calmed them. Sitting in your car once more, you sunk into the leather seats as you watched the scenery blur into a series of blues and greens. 

When Haruhi suggested a sleepover, you had to swallow the anxiety in your stomach. You knew that she was trying to make up for lost time, and she – ever the instigator – came up with the idea that the two of you should have a good, old fashioned slumber party. It was a bit extroverted for Haruhi, which surprised you, but it sounded like she had spent plenty of time trying to build up her confidence to ask you, so there was no way you could say no. 

Placing your head into your hand and leaning up against the railing, you realize that you didn’t want to say no. Haruhi has become your closest friend in the past couple of months, and you kick yourself for shutting her out at your time of need. Of course she sensed you were distressed, this is Haruhi. The most observant, blunt, humble woman you knew. Not only is she a thoughtful friend, but her maternal instincts for the people close to her are unparalleled and will not be defeated by a little bit of drama. 

But with that maternal instinct came questions. Questions you knew were going to be asked tonight. Questions you weren’t sure how to answer. 

“No, no.” You shook your head, sighing and leaning farther into your seat. “This is the perfect time to tell her. Tell her I saw them together, and then tell her it’s fine. She can have him.”

With every syllable, your gut twisted, but your mind stayed vigilant. “They want each other, and Haruhi deserves that, right?” You whispered to yourself. “She deserves to get what she wants, after everything she does for us.”

Your heart still pounded at any image of Kyoya and Haruhi together, but your mind intervened once more, bolting hard steel walls on the inside of your chest to deafen the sound. 

“He doesn’t want you, he wants her. She can have him.” Another shuttering breath. “Not like I’m letting her have him, of course, she is her own woman and can get what she needs without anyone's help. It’s fine.”

Biting your lip, you suck on the skin for a moment before letting it go, trying to push away the bad habit. “So, when she asks, it’ll be fine. Because they’re good for each other, and they’ll be happy. That’s what you want, right?” Clenching your jaw, your throat tightens before releasing. “I want them to be happy.”

“Miss (L/n)?”

Shocking out of your trance, you meet the eyes of your driver in the rearview mirror. Stuttering, you put yourself back into a normal person state of mind, adjusting your posture. “Yes?”

“Are you alright?” Your driver’s eyes are inviting, green sinking into (e/c).

Clearing your throat, you give her a smile. “I am. I’m fine. Thank you.”

“Are you sure? Because your phone has been ringing for the past minute.” She says, and her eyes dart to your right. 

Eyebrows creasing, you manage to finally process the sound of your phone ringing and vibrating on the seat next to you. Laughing meekly, you apologize to your driver before rolling up the divider, taking a note that if you ever want to talk to yourself like a crazy person again, maybe do it in private.

“Hello?” In your hurry to pick it up, you fail to check the caller ID. 

But even if it was easy to ignore the contact picture and the name in your state of embarrassment, you couldn’t dismiss the club music banging against the speaker. 

“(L/n)! You finally picked up!”

Wincing at the volume of the electronic music, you pull the phone away from your ear to see who the hell is calling you from a club this early in the evening. Your confusion only grows when you see a crooked smile beaming back at you.

“Arai?” Why the hell was Arai calling you from a club at 20:00.

“(L/n)? Can you hear me?” The bass suddenly picked up tempo, and you could hear Arai trying to raise his voice over the noise.

“Barely.” You let out a breathy chuckle. “Where are you?”

“I’m at The Black Rose! The new nightclub that just opened up!” He laughs on the other end at something his friend said. “It’s definitely…more active than we had anticipated. What are you doing?”

“I’m just in the car.”

“Really? Great! Then you’re already a step ahead of me!”

Meeting the confused look of your driver again, you give her a thumbs up as the car zooms by on the open road. “What do you mean?”

“Get over here!” He pauses, and you hear a clunk and a gulp from his end. “I’m only down two shots, and my friends really want to meet you!”

“Arai.” Your tone is gentle, a soft giggle coming from your lips. “I can’t. I have plans tonight.”

“Oh, no, really?” He nearly whines, his crackly voice like peppermint bark. “Is it with that jackass of a partner? You never told me his name, so I’m just gonna call him jackass.”

This earns Arai a full on laugh. “No, no. It’s a sleepover with my best friend.” It felt nice to call her that again. 

“Are you sure I can’t convince you?” Arai nearly pleads, and it seems the music dimmed, now a thundering echo in the background. 

“You can’t.” You smile when he halfheartedly curses. “She really deserves time with me right now.”

“Okay, well tell me what to do to get in line for your time, because I need to make an arrangement for us to come to this awesome club together.” There’s a stuttering breath, then a gasp. “Oh, wait, unless you don’t like clubs? Do you not like the club scene? That would make total sense, of course, I know you prefer calmer atmospheres– or unless you don’t and I read it all wrong?”

“No, no, Arai. You’re fine.” Honestly, you had been waiting for him to stutter or something. It seemed like alcohol boosted his confidence a bit. “You can totally jump to the front of the line, of course.”

“Woo!” His voice lessened as he pulled the speaker away from his mouth to shout across the club. “Did you guys hear that? I got a fast pass!”

You hear some muffled, dismissive hums from his friends before Arai focuses back into the call. 

“They’re not as excited as they should be. You’re a busy woman who is hard to get a hold of. Who may or may not like clubs? I never got an answer to that.” You could almost picture him scratching the back of his head. 

“I enjoy them when I can prepare myself for them.” You agree, crossing a leg over the other. “Plus, I’m sure my mother would be glad to hear us hanging out again outside of business meetings.”

Arai makes an agreeable hum. “Right, yeah, your mother. I mean, my dad would also be happy to hear it, so….is that a yes?”

“Sure.” You can’t help the smile on your teeth at his eagerness. “Sounds fun. Some other time, though.” 

“I’ll be waiting!” His friends began calling his name, and his attention was completely snatched once again. 

“Be safe, though, Arai! Make sure to–”

“Yeah, bye (L/n)!”

The line goes dead. Shaking your head, your driver pulls your gaze to her questioning one and you just shrug, looking out the window with a smirk on your face. It was fun, creating a comfort of your own. 

Dark, silk sheets wrap over Kyoya’s bare torso, a deep sleep blanketing his form. His breaths are long and heavy as his face stays relaxed. A rare look for the fourth child, but third in line.  

Something warm slinks across his chest, something that made him hum in gratitude. Ever the deep sleeper, Kyoya barely feels a sort of pressure come from that something, pressing him against another warmth. In his sleep, the Ootori son relaxes, peacefulness cocooning him as a feeling of contentedness washes over his body like the satin against his skin. 

That is until, in the darkness, Kyoya feels that same warm touch on his neck, his creamy skin becoming alight with each press. 

Lips. Lips kiss up the column of his throat, and he bends his head slightly to allow those lips more room. Slowly, they make a trail to the shell of his ear, as if time did not exist within the confine of his bedroom walls, and this pair of lips had all the seconds in the world. A needy breath crawls up his throat then, and in his sleepy daze, the megane slowly rolls over, seeking more of that warmth. 

His stormy eyes can only open a crack, the fuzz of night and sleep blurring his reality. But he sees a shoulder, and a soft visage in the corner of his eye, those lips still pressing achingly slow into his pulse. And his body just knows.

Kyoya thinks his lips part, a rumbly, graveled voice sounding from his chest. “Mm…(Y/n)?”

(H/c) strands fall onto the sheets around him, but he still can’t get a full image of you, your form always tied to his peripheral. But your voice, your voice is clear as crystal against his ear. 

“Catch me, Kyo.”

He blinks, the lips are gone. No more warmth around his chest and stomach where your arm had pulled him into you, and no shadows calling to him in the night. Kyoya takes a stuttering breath and shoots up in his bed, dark sheets billowing to his waist as low foggy clouds become thunderstorms in his eyes. 

His pupils dilate and he immediately winces at the sunlight bathing into his room, and he shields his eyes. Groaning, Kyoya fists his sheets within his grasp, swallowing a yell at the loss of his sleep-like peace. The dream he had wanted to sink into. 

The ravenette gingerly lays back into his bed, heaving a breath to stave away a budding headache from being woken up so early, so suddenly. His arm drapes over his naked eyes, a swallow melting down his throat that was still tingling.

This wasn’t the first dream he’d had where the ghost of his want had haunted him. But it was the first time you had spoke. 

Catch me, he thought. What the hell does that mean?

Kyoya was never one to look into the meaning of dreams. That would be illogical. Absurd. No, the only reason your teasing line replayed in his head so many times was because it had sounded so…enticing. Like an invitation he would never refuse. 

But you were mad at him, so he would never get the chance. 

You were mad at him. The thought had almost made him laugh when you had admitted that to him because of course. Of course you found some way to flip it all on him so that you wouldn’t have to take accountability for your actions, even though you had already apologized to the rest of the host club. Everyone except for him got a proper apology, and you left him alone in the dark. 

But you were mad at him.

You were mad at him?

Kyoya didn’t care what anybody thought. Ever. Especially if they felt he had wronged them in some way with his blunt honesty and piercing ambition. Most of the time, those people were rich, greedy, annoying little pests in the world of business and management, already begging to be knocked down a few pegs by his intelligence and sharp observation. Or, let’s be honest, they weren’t going to get that far in life anyway, who was he to sugarcoat things?

But you had never been any of those people. No, even through his anger and betrayal, Kyoya could accept that you were smart. That you were creative, strong-willed and strong-minded, and full of potential. He knew you were going to do great things. But you did it with kindness. With a grace that he, dare he admit, admired. 

Frowning, Kyoya flipped onto his stomach, burying his face into his pillow and draping the covers over his head. He can take anger from anyone else, even his parents. Even Tamaki, who always found that Kyoya had been right, in the end. 

But you. You were mad at him. 

Why? What had he done? You had seen him throw business after business underground and cut expenses and salaries like they were butter but you had never bat an eye. You both had stopped speaking for that uncomfortable week under Renge’s influence, but you had come at him with your typical fire and spark, and all was well. Unfortunately, he realizes you have gotten used to him using the silent treatment as a way to get what he wants. To let people stew in their own anxiety that they end up apologizing to him in the end. 

Now, though, you have taken a backseat. He reaches out to you more than you return the favor, embarrassingly, and there seemed to be no motivation to fix whatever awkward space you two were in now. Why were you becoming so distant instead of confronting him head on? Why were you running away?

Catch me, Kyo.

Turning his head, he squints both at the onslaught of sunlight from his window and the determination blossoming within. 

Kyoya would do whatever he could to unearth the truth, to learn. He deserved to know, and the third Ootori son always worked hard for the things he deserved. 

But, even ambitious shadow lords need their beauty rest. His eyelids slipped shut, a part of him still wishing to return to that dream space. Instead, though, his dark eyelashes flutter open again to the sound of his phone ringing on his nightstand. 

“Absolutely not.” He grumbles to himself, digging himself deeper into the top of his mattress. If he hadn’t already been awake, he would’ve slept through that ringtone that he knew too goddamn well. Anyone who knows him realizes that on weekends, Kyoya Ootori does not wake up before noon. 

There’s one person, however, that just doesn’t care. 

His phone stops jumping on the bedside table and Kyoya braces for the next few calls. It’s a pattern that has been repeated over and over. Three calls, three voicemails, six text messages. Then he can fall back into the silence of his bedroom without interruption.

But after the third call, it rings again. And again. And again until Kyoya is harshly sitting up, gripping his expensive cell phone with a tight grip while answering it with a vengeance. 

“Kyoya!” Tamaki’s voice flows through the speaker, but before he can say anything else, the Ootori son is spitting venom through his microphone. 

“What in God’s name makes you think you can ring my phone incessantly without any disregard for the time? Any disregard for my sleep?” He growled, teeth baring over his receiver. “I’ll have you know, you idiot, that I was awake until four in the morning working on your club’s finances, and if I don’t get the rest I need, I will be more than in favor of completely destroying the entire Host Club and running that business into the ground.”

There’s a small pause, and Kyoya imagines Tamaki blinking owlishly on the other end. The ravenet sighs, a headache already starting to form from how low his blood sugar had dropped from rising out of his bed so suddenly. 

“Come on, Kyoya! The day is new. Plus, I just had the most terrible dream.” His best friend gasps, and Kyoya doesn’t restrict his eye roll. 

“And I’d like to get back to mine.” His words are short and sharp. “Goodnight.”

“Wait, please. I need your help! Haruhi is living in poverty!”

Even though the Ootori son had brought his phone away from his ear, he still heard the whine that Tamaki voiced over the speaker, and Kyoya’s infamous curiosity overpowered his will for sleep. 

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“I woke up in such a frenzy this morning, it was a disaster! I was so rattled that I forgot it was even a weekend. My lovely maid, Shima–”

“I know who Shima is, Tamaki.” 

“Right, well she had to stop me from running outside of the house in my pajamas. My pajamas! I had never been so unpresentable in my life.”

That headache was getting worse. “Can you get to the point?”

“Oh, Kyoya, I had a dream where Haruhi was…” Tamaki’s voice lowered significantly, whispering the forbidden word into the phone. “...poor. And that she was dirty, and so sad. We need to help her! What if she is living with a disease? Or famine?” Another gasp burst from the prince’s lips. “What if she is living without a skin care routine?!”

“Haruhi’s conditions are perfectly suitable for her desired life-style, I can assure you.” 

“How do you know for sure? We’ve never seen where she lives, or how she is living. She could need me, and I would never know!” Another whine pierces the phone line, and Kyoya really, actually considers hanging up on him. 

Gritting his teeth, Kyoya takes his finger away from the ‘end call’ button. “If you would like to visit her so dreadfully, then go. No one is stopping you.”

There’s another pause, and the Ootori son hopes that Tamaki has finally come to his senses. But, of course, that was wishful thinking. 

“Please don’t make me go alone! Please, Kyoya, you’ve read about commoner living, right? It would be so nice to have you there with me.” 

“Tamaki, I cannot just abandon all of my plans today because you-”

“Please. I’ll do anything you want.” Tamaki was practically on his hands and knees at this point, but Kyoya still let out a huff. 

“I am a very busy man, Tamaki. My sleep is the only time where I might find some solace within the disarray you call a host club. If you insist on company, I suggest calling (Y/n)-”

“You know just as well as I do that (Y/n) will not be awake at this time.”

Shadows bleed from the bags under Kyoya’s eyes. “How fortunate for her.”

“Please, Kyo? For me?” And in his tired mind, the megane imagines Tamaki’s purple eyes batting at him, big and wide and hopeful. 

A low sigh releases from Kyoya’s lips at the nickname, one he has heard less of recently. Letting his face fall into his unoccupied palm, the Ootori has to force his tongue to form his next sentence. “When do we leave?”

Haruhi prances down the sidewalk of her neighborhood, grocery bags swinging left and right on her arms. Her lips are quirked into a calm grin, the peace of the spring air weaving through her brunette locks. 

That was some sale! There’s no better time to hit the supermarket like a Sunday morning. She thinks, tucking into one of the pockets of her pink dress to grab a notepad and flip it open. Smart eyes glaze over the to-do list written there as her tennis shoes clack against the sidewalk. Now, all I have to do when I get home is wake up (Y/n) and see what she wants to do!.

At the thought of you, Haruhi shakes her head fondly. You two had such a great night. Even if you had seemed too chipper, it was better than the distance you had put between them the past few days. Because it was Haruhi’s first sleepover, the honor student studied up on how to throw the best one she could. Ingredients for your favorite cookies were bought, plenty of movies were stacked up on a shelf, and the brunette had found nail polish on sale. Buy one, get two free! How serendipitous was that?

Everything was put to use, and then some. While the cookies baked, you sensed what Haruhi was up to. 

“Haru, did you study up on sleepovers?” You had asked, chuckling a little bit while leaning against her kitchen counter. 

A small blush had come across her cheeks while she scratched the back of her head. “Yeah. Is that weird?”

“No, not at all!” You were quick to make her feel less awkward. “It’s just sweet. This is my first sleepover too, so you’re probably wasting all your efforts. The bar is set very low for me.” 

Haruhi laughed then, rolling her eyes. “Right, that makes me feel so much better.” 

“Oh, stop.” You say. Picking up a glass, you walk over to fill it with lemonade that Haruhi had prepared. “You know, I think I might know another classic sleepover activity.”

Always eager to learn, Haruhi perks her ears. “Really? What is it?”

You quirk an eyebrow over your glass. “Talking about boys.”

The honor student hums, her eyes rolling playfully. “You just want an excuse to talk about Kyoya-Senpai.”

You forced a laugh out of your throat. “No, no. I want to talk about the boys you like. If Kyoya just happens to come up, that will be your doing.”

This time, Haruhi’s eye find you with a serious tone. “Me? I don’t like any boys.”

A scoff blows past your lips. “Haru, you’re an attractive girl surrounded by the most attractive men in our school who would do almost anything for you. You haven’t fallen for one of them by now?”

Her dark eyebrows furrow, and the timer on the oven dings, signaling the cookies were fully baked. Slipping on hot pads, Haruhi bends to grab the cookie pan from the oven, letting the heat and the smell of sweets wash over her. 

“No, no. Honestly, I haven’t thought about any of that. My studies are the most important thing right now, and I have so much to do at home. I…don’t have time for things like that.”

But you watch as a thoughtful look glazes over her features, setting the tray of cookies down in deep thought. 

“But…there might be someone, yeah?” You ask softly. 

You imagine a flash of black hair coming into her vision, when in reality, blonde locks are what come to the front of her mind before she shakes it away. 

A sympathetic look comes to your face. Placing your hand hers that rests on the counter, you get her attention. 

“I guess I just want you to know that if you did like someone, you can talk to me about it. I think I’d be so excited, I’d try to, like, push you two together at any possible second.” 

“Yeah, thanks.” Her lips quirk up as she laughs. “I’ll let you know.” Then her eyebrows wriggle a little bit as she waves the steam from the desserts, encouraging them to cool. “But we can still talk about Kyoya-senpai.”

Teasingly, she looks up, expecting you to be rolling your eyes and blushing. But when your shoulders deflate and your eyes shine with something she can’t place, she realizes that maybe that wasn’t the best thing to bring up. 

“I know you guys are still rocky, but you and him-”

“Things between us are over.”

“What?” Haruhi clears her throat. “Over one little fight?”

“It wasn’t very little.” You reply sheepishly, shrugging and playing with your lemonade. 

“Well, what did he say when you apologized to him?” 

Your eyes shot to hers then, your head in your hand. (E/c) eyes darkened a little before you pulled your lip between your teeth. “I, uh, didn’t get the chance too.”

“What? Why not?”

Your gaze became unfocused, distant words pressing past your teeth. “I guess I realized that he wanted something different. Something that wasn’t me.”

“That’s not true. He-”

“No, it is.” Just like that, the faraway look snaps back into reality, and you pull your lips into an assuring grin. “But it’s fine.”

“It is? You’re fine?”

“More than fine.” You take another sip from your drink. “It’ll be better this way. For all of us.”

After the cookies were done, you both sat down on your mats, which were laid in her T.V. room. Her room was too small to fit both of you, so Ranka said you two could sleep out there, near the windows that overlooked the city. 

“Sorry my place is a little cramped.” Haruhi said, folding her feet underneath her. 

Shaking your head, you lay a blanket across your lap. “It’s really not. It’s so homey and warm. I would’ve offered my place, but it’s kind of the opposite.”

“I still think it would’ve been better than here. Are you sure you’re not bored?” Haruhi realizes. 

“Of course I’m not bored.” You assure her. “But, when we do this again, you can come over to mine, if you really want to. My parents won’t be home, so we can do whatever we want.”

“Whatever we want?”

“Mhmm.” You start to list areas of your house on your fingers. “We have the movie theater, the pool, the tennis courts, the gardens. Oh, and there are secret doors next to the library that I could show you.”

Haruhi’s eyes glisten a little in the light of her home. “You have a library?”

Laughter rang out from you, then, and you had both gone to sleep that night, crashing on the sweetness of sugar and friendship. 

When morning came, though, you were dead to the world. You had mentioned that you needed a very competent, persistent alarm of some kind to wake up in the mornings, otherwise you’d sleep past noon on the weekends. Even though you had asked Haruhi not to let you sleep in and waste the day away, the natural-type couldn’t bring herself to interrupt that relaxed look on your face. 

So, she had gotten up, and the early riser left to get a head start on her morning chores, making sure her schedule was cleared to spend some time with you. 

Too bad her efforts were in vain. 

As Haruhi approached her apartment complex, a glint of sunlight caught her eye. Shielding her eyes, Haruhi found the source to be a sparkling surface of polish and pristine. Something she didn’t see much of around here. Squinting, she noticed it was a car. A fancy car. 

No, like, it was a really fancy car. 

She was even more perplexed when she saw another one right beside it, and a limo stretched next to her sidewalk. No one in her building was this well off. 

Oh no, was the Yakuza here? Had they heard about the amazing prices at the supermarket and wanted to take advantage of the great sale like she did? 

Calming herself down, she took a breath. That’s ridiculous, she thought, the Yakuza wouldn’t be out shopping for themselves. 

No, they’d get someone to do it for them.

With a courage that should be awarded, Haruhi continued her path to her home, waiting to see minions of the Japanese Mafia as one of the doors to the limo swung open. 

But when blonde locks bounced off the morning’s sunlight, Haruhi paused for an entirely different reason. A very strong urge to sprint in the other direction. 

Tamaki rose out of his limo, a casual outfit wrapped around his frame. A set of sunglasses is perched on his nose before he pushes them up into his hair, little wisps sticking out the sides. Each car then opens to reveal the rest of the host club, their own everyday street wear warming in the sun. 

Haruhi groans, leaning onto a pole and dropping her groceries in offense. 

Kyoya bends out of his seat, a dark vest wrapped over a red tank top, his hair free of any gel or product. His mouth sits in a calm line, quietly scanning the apartment complex in front of him. Folding his arms, they feel slightly naked without his black book in his grasp. 

“So this is where Haruhi lives?” Kaoru asks, pulling on his white shirt and red vest. 

“It’s pretty big, huh? Bigger than I thought it would be.” Hikaru adds, rolling up the sleeves of his red hoodie. Necklaces and jewelry adorned both of the twins. They wouldn’t be caught dead without the appropriate accessorizing. 

A gasp sounds on their right as Honey and Mori saddle up next to them, a gleam in the former’s eye. “Yeah, wow! Look at all the rooms!” 

“Actually,” Kyoya reminds, “This is what you might call an aggregate commoner dwelling. Haruhi’s home is just one of the many units in this building.”

As Kyoya fixes the glasses onto his face, he feels hands clamp onto his shoulders, Tamaki trembling with nerves. “Kyoya, why? Why did you bring these idiots with us?! Especially those two doppelgangers?!”

But the megane just levels his tired gaze to his best friend, and he tilts his head just so, the sun creating a barrier between his eyes and Tamaki’s. “Well, I knew you didn’t have the courage to come here on your own. So, I thought it would be best if everyone came along.”

Casually brushing off Tamaki’s grip, Kyoya just shrugs, sighing as he leads the twins back into their cars. “Alright, let’s go home. I guess I underestimated our great leader.”

Hikaru knocks him off, pulling Kaoru into his side. “What? We aren’t going home!”

“Wait, wait!” Tamaki rushes to Kyoya, clinging to his long back. “I’m sorry! Don’t leave.” His voice drops into a whine, and the Ootori son rolls his eyes internally. “I don’t want to be alone.” 

“That’s what I suspected.” Kyoya sighs, and turns in Tamaki’s grip. Many years ago, that touch on his shoulder would’ve lit a fire in his spirit, but it dulled into more of a prismatic ray as Kyoya realized that Tamaki’s passions were elsewhere. 

As were his own. He just hadn’t gotten that far yet. Not like it mattered anymore. 

But, with this blonde, an annoyingly deep bond was formed anyway, so Kyoya let it stay. 

“Alright men, gather round.” The touch on Kyoya’s shoulder grew firm, and he was launched into a huddle with the rest of his friends. 

“Don’t forget!” Tamaki was a born leader, his commanding voice drawing even more attention from the citizens of this commoner dwelling. “We must be polite, this is simply a casual ‘we-just-happened-to-be-in-the-neighborhood’ kind of visit. We are absolutely not here to judge the Fujioka family’s lifestyle. The words ‘shabby’, ‘cramped’, and ‘rundown’ are absolutely forbidden!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, Kyoya perceived a pink dress in a diagonal line, leaning against a telephone pole. “Tamaki, if I may-” He starts, trying to point out the figure. 

“Don’t say anything that might offend Haruhi or her father.” The pink line shuddered and straightened before moving closer to their group huddle. “We can’t have them asking us to leave!” 

That pink dress solidified into a younger honor student, and Kyoya felt his help in drawing attention to her was no longer needed when she growled in the host’s direction. 

“Well, it’s too late for that!”

Jumping out of his skin, Tamaki spun around, purple eyes growing into saucers. 

 “Haruhi-”

“Go away!” Again, Haruhi’s forehead irked, a wild look in her eye. But Tamaki didn’t register her anger as those lilac plates rolled down her dress, a small blush coming to the apples of his cheeks. 

“Wow, Haruhi…” Tamaki breathed, and he and the twins suddenly gave a thumbs up. Together, they were a love-sick pack of pups. “That pink dress is pretty cute!”

But Haruhi bared her teeth. “Shut up! Get the hell out of here!”

Kyoya’s eyelids grew half a centimeter. He had never heard Haruhi cuss before. 

Tamaki stumbled back, a horrified gasp sucking through his mouth. “Haruhi’s so mad, she actually cursed at us!” Tears formed in his eyes as he whirled on the twins, beginning to accuse them of being a bad influence on the honor student, which Kyoya couldn’t disagree with. 

A lady cautiously walks over to Haruhi, and Kyoya can see the small stains on the hems of her dress. Someone who might live in this building, he supposed. 

“Excuse me, Haruhi, but is everything alright?”

Irritated beyond belief, Haruhi sighs, looking over to the woman with a blank expression. “Hi, Ms. Landlady.”

Oh, so this is the woman the Fujioka’s pay rent to. Her eyes shift from Haruhi to the boys, then back. “Those boys are driving such fancy, foreign cars. They aren’t Yakuza, are they?”

“No, they’re not.” But by the tone of her voice, Kyoya thinks that Haruhi may have preferred the Japanese mafia to their chaos. 

“I mean, do you want me to call the police for you…?” Her question trails off as Tamaki reaches around Haruhi, practically pushing the shorter host to the side as he grabs the older woman's hand. 

Sparkles come to his eyes, spilling into his lashes and sprinkling around his entire face, completely enchanting the woman in front of him in seconds. That’s what practice can do for a professional. 

“Pleased to meet you, Madam. My name’s Suoh, I’m one of Haruhi’s friends.” The landlady is already gushing as Haruhi watches with amazement. 

“Really?” The landlady’s hand tightens in his grip. “Well, aren’t you just adorable?”

“And, he’s got her.” Kyoya hears Haruhi mumble. 

A pale hand runs through golden straw as Tamaki flicks those sparkles into the air, captivating the woman further. “We were just stopping by, we didn’t mean to cause a scene. I’m sorry.” Utter sincerity rushes through Tamaki’s tone, and the pure talent the french boy possess nearly raises envy into Kyoya’s blood. 

But of course, it doesn’t. 

The tinkling of the old woman’s laughter filled the space. “Oh, it’s no problem!” She pulls Haruhi back to her side, the honor student having no choice but to follow. “I’ll be back with some snacks later for your friends. See ya later!”

As the Host Club watches the woman leave, Haruhi grumbles, coming back to Tamaki’s side. “Alright, well, thank you for coming.” Kyoya didn’t believe she was actually grateful. “But, I have a lot of work today, and even some company-”

“Boys, to the Fujioka Residence!” 

Long legs dressed in over priced cloth begin to climb the staircase of her apartment complex, bustling energies rising with every step. 

“I can’t wait to see where Haru-chan lives! I bet it’s cute, right Takashi?” Honey pipes, his blue and white, sailor inspired outfit swishing in his rush. 

His cousin just strides, taking the stairs two at a time while nodding. “Yeah.”

“Wait!” Haruhi’s call falls on deaf ears as she rushes to follow the host club. “You guys don’t even know where I-”

“Kyoya?” Tamaki looks around in a rush, seemingly millions of doors stretching into his view. 

“Second door on the left.” 

“Thank you.” 

An irk appears on Haruhi’s forehead. “How do you know where I live? That’s stalking, Kyoya-senpai!”

But the Host Club appears in front of a door. A door that was already emanating warmth and comfort, which made Tamaki a little calmer. Surely a home with this kind of energy wouldn’t be too bad, right?

“Haruhi! Let us in.” The prince boldly states. 

“Tamaki, you can’t just barge into my house.”

He turns over his shoulder, a smirk on his face. “Which is why I am asking you to let us in, okay?”

Haruhi sighs, shifting her feet. “You aren’t going to leave unless I let you see it, huh.” It wasn’t really a question, but more of an acceptance of fate. 

“Nope.” Kaoru states, canines shining. 

“Not even close.” Hikaru confirms. 

“Right.” Another sigh, and Haruhi is making her way through the crowd of her Host Club. She wanted to call you, but she knew you wouldn’t pick up. The time hadn’t even hit the double digits. She could bang on the door, tell you to get up before your friends could interrupt your sleep, but there was already a crowd outside and she didn’t want to draw more attention. 

“What’s taking so long?” Tamaki asks, a wild look in his eye.

“It’s just, there’s-” But Tamaki grabbed her by the shoulders. His eyes were desperate, purple churning into a royal violet. 

“Haruhi, I promise, whatever is behind that door, we won’t judge you. We could never judge you. Just open the door, okay?”

The twins laughed. “Speak for yourself.”

The honor student’s lips parted. “But-” 

“Open the door!” Kyoya quirks an eyebrow as Tamaki collects himself. Gently, he pushes a stunned Haruhi to the door, who grumbles under her breath, shoving the key into the hole. 

“Here’s the deal.” She states, her keys jangling. “I’m only giving you guys a quick peek, I have a day planned. Three seconds, and then you all go home, got it?”

“Plans? You have plans?” Hikaru asks, crossing his arms in front of him. 

“Yes.” Haruhi sighs out her answer. “I have a friend over.”

The door swings open, and before the Hosts can process that Haruhi lives in a very stable, normal apartment, the mattress in the center of the floor rustles. 

All of their gazes drop as a strip of sunlight from the doorway stretches over your sleeping form. A mint green, lovingly woven blanket comforts you as you shift, softly waking up from your deep sleep, and Haruhi sighs. 

“We had a sleepover. She stayed the night.” She whispers. 

Kyoya swallows. He hadn’t expected to see you here. You hadn’t answered Tamaki’s calls, Hikaru’s texts, or his own voicemails, so everyone just assumed you were still asleep and would join them later. Which was partly true. 

But here you were. Vulnerable, peaceful, and here. 

Then, your eyes fluttered open, that sun drifting over one of your eyelids. Squinting, you hummed a displeased tone, rising from the mat. Your hair was matted to your head, lips chapped and eyes swollen from your sleep, and your voice was gravelly as you spoke.

(N/l) flew over your lips in a grumble, and Tamaki and the twins gave you blank stares. The other, more linguistic hosts, held their breath.

“What did she say?” Hikaru whispered in his brother’s ear. Kaoru just shrugged, sneaking a picture of your decrepit form. 

Honey looked at Hikaru with big eyes. “She said-”

A hand covered his mouth. “Don’t repeat it, Mitsukuni.” 

“Hey, (Y/n).” Haruhi said weakly. “I’m sorry, they just barged in here.”

Everyone could tell you were still trying to find your bearings, your gaze loose as it flitted over every club member. Kyoya saw the moment when you realized the situation you were in. (E/c) met his gray, and in your drowsy state, he saw your gaze soften like it used to. 

The world melted, golden hues playing in your irises. You seemed warm, comfortable, and the megane straightened his spine. You were the only one that could look at him like that. Like he was perfect, no matter where he was in his life. 

It was jarring. 

Kyoya broke eye contact when the defenses finished their change of guard. Walls were built, cages were raised, and any affection was sealed away. The warmth disappeared, the atmosphere solidifying around you when you dropped out of your dreamy state into reality. 

The reality that all of your friends were standing in the doorway while you hadn’t even taken a shower yet. 

Groaning, you held your head in your hands, careful of the crusting face mask you had slept with. “Oh my god.”

Hikaru and Kaoru also let out a displeased noise, rolling their shoulders. “We really didn’t think we’d have to do this today.”

“What’re you talking about?” Haruhi asked. The twins moved through the crowd of their host club, coming up to either side of the honor student. 

“We’ve had too many late nights with (Y/n), so we know…”

“...Waking her up takes a certain process.”

With more grace than they’ve ever had, the twins sneak across the mats of Haruhi’s floor, taking their shoes off at the door. Kaoru kneeled down in front of you while Hikaru moved behind you, massaging your shoulders. 

“Alright, (Y/n), you with us?” Kaoru asks, bringing your face into his hands. His touch was gentle, hands thoroughly moisturized with expensive lotions and soaps.

“Yeah, you back with the living?” Hikaru teases, his thumbs breaking up the knots at the base of your neck. 

Haruhi watches their gentleness with confusion. “Who are these people? What have they done with my classmates?”

But you melted into the brothers’ touch slightly, confirming that you were not, in fact, responsive yet. Humming appreciatively, you arched your back as Hikaru’s hands worked your spines. Kaoru saw the grin on your face and rolled his eyes. The brothers just shook their heads before meeting eyes over your form, their gentle smiles sharpening a little. 

Kyoya hummed apprehensively. “It seems we are about to see their true intentions.”

Your eyes shot open as the muscles on your cheeks stretched. Kaoru pulled at your face before smashing it back the other way, distorting your features. Then Hikrau’s grip turned rigid, and the whine that was let out of your mouth turned broken as he shook your torso. Their voices weren’t soft anymore, and their teeth glinted as they smirked. 

“Wakey wakey, (Y/n)!”

“Time to get up!”

“Stop it! Mon ami is just tired!” Tamaki cried, flying into the apartment to rip you from their grasp. Suddenly, he’s twirling you, your tired form limply flailing in his arms. “You’re so cute when you’re tired (Y/n)! Come here, let me cuddle you! So, so cute!”

“Tamaki-senpai, stop!” Haruhi says, worried at the shade of green your face was turning. The prince pulls you away and when he sees the stars in your eyes, sets you on the ground. 

“I’m sorry, mon ami, are you okay?”

Nodding, you sway on your feet, but Haruhi steadies you. “You okay, (Y/n)?”

Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. After the world stops spinning, your eyes open sharply in a glare, (e/c) eyes sliding to your ginger-haired nightmares. 

An aura surrounds you, and Tamaki and Haruhi take a small step back. Slowly, your feet pad over to the twins, but they just fold their arms.

“You wouldn’t wake up…” Kaoru says, shrugging his left shoulder.

“...So we had to take appropriate measures.” Hikaru finishes, casually lifting his right.

You walk too calmly, and from behind his glasses, Kyoya peers at the way your jaw clenches, or how your fists ball at your sides. The twins, despite their efforts to look unbothered, huddle a little closer together. 

“Is this where we die?” They ask together, seeing the rage in your eyes.

Pointing a finger at them, Kaoru’s handprint still burns your cheek as you get in their faces. The words you speak are foreign to them, but it’s growling and sinister as venom rushes past your teeth. (N/l) has never sounded so sharp, and they are bewildered as you shove them out of your way to enter Haruhi’s bathroom, sliding the door behind you. 

The hosts hear a shower running before the twins turn back to their friends. Kaoru’s eyes are wide as he looks at his brother. “I feel like a curse was just put on me.”

Honey beamed, taking a deep breath. “She said-!”

“No, Mitsukuni.” 

Haruhi just sighs, turning towards her prince as she pinches the bridge of her nose. “Alright, you guys saw my place. Can you leave now?”

The boy-lolita pouts, and Honey raises a box of desserts that Haruhi hadn’t noticed he was carrying. “Oh, but look! I brought you a gift, Haru-chan! I know how much you love cake, so I brought chocolate and strawberry! Isn’t that great?”

The martial arts master just looked so excited, and there was nothing Haruhi could do against his puppy dog eyes. Relenting, she gripes. “Fine. I’ll clean this stuff up and make us some tea.”

Both futons were easy to pack up and put away, and as Haruhi rolled up the blankets and sheets, the boys were able to take in her living space. 

Tamaki runs his hands along the modest counter tops in the kitchen. “At least it’s better than my dream.” He mumbles. 

“What a hovel.” 

“Shut up!” The prince squeals, covering Hikaru’s mouth with his palms while double checking that Haruhi didn’t hear him. 

Kyoya roamed the space, scanning the architecture on the sliding doors. “A wood-built two bedroom unit. That is pretty normal for a commoner family of two.”

Kaoru nodded next to him, looking at the humble lighting hanging from the ceiling. Very different from his massive chandeliers back home. “And Haruhi’s such a pipsqueak, at least we know she won’t hit her head on the low ceilings.”

“Well, I think it’s a cute little room!” Honey says, spreading his arms out and twirling, nearly hitting Mori in the gut. 

“You don’t have to struggle to compliment it.” Haruhi drones, stuffing the rest of the bedding into the linen closet. 

The boys soon migrate to Haruhi’s T.V. room, jostling around in the tight space. 

“Oh, wow, talk about small.” Hikaru says as he squeezes by Kyoya, barely missing the T.V. set up in the corner of the room. Mori walks straight through the doors, and before the megane can stop him, accidentally knocks his head on the lightbulb hanging from the ceiling. 

“Ow.”

“Be careful!” Karou says, pointing at the light feature. “I should’ve said something earlier.”

Tamaki just huffs, setting himself down on the far right side of the room and curling in on himself. “This place is quite unpleasant, but I think we may have underestimated commoner housing!” His voice is strained as he compacts himself into a ball, and the other hosts follow suit. 

“I know it’s a tight fit in here, men, but just pull your knees in and sit gym style.” The blonde’s voice mimics intelligence as he educates his friends. “Commoners have specially developed this position to conserve space.”

Kyoya fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

Hands on her hips, their favorite brunette appears in the doorway. By the way her mouth quirked over her teeth, she was probably motivating herself to just get through this visit. “I’ll go make us some tea.” Her pink dress swishes as she turns, but Hikaru stops her. 

“Hey, why don’t you make this?” A pale, manicured hand offers her an orange bag of loose leaf tea. “It’s black tea that our father brought us as a souvenir from Africa. Try it.”

A thoughtful look replaces the annoyed one as Haruhi grasps the bag, turning it in her hand. “Sure, no problem.”

“It’s best served as milk tea.” Kaoru offers. “Do you have any milk?”

Still reading the directions, Haruhi nods. “I think so.” Then a finger comes to her chin. “When was the last time I bought some milk?”

A blur of blonde hair rushes to the tufts of orange as Tamaki pulls them into an urgent huddle. “Stop trying to embarrass her by asking for that tea!” The president of the Host Club tries to whisper quietly, but Kyoya can hear him clearly as he gives them hushed warnings. “She has no idea how to prepare it!”

Pale skin tones turn sickly as the twins fall into worry, Tamaki’s panic becoming contagious. “She doesn’t even have a tea pot!”

“She’s too embarrassed to tell us that she doesn’t!” Too ashamed to stand, Kaoru crawls forward towards Haruhi as she stands in the kitchen. He reaches out a trembling hand. “I’m sorry, Haruhi, you don’t have to go through all that trouble. We’d be fine with a glass of water.”

“What are you doing?”

The host club turns to find you leaning against the doorway, hair damp and face cleaned. You still weren’t wearing any make-up and you weren’t in your fanciest attire, but you seemed casual and fresh. Definitely happier than how you welcomed them a few minutes ago. 

On the floor, Kyoya is slightly thrown off for the second time today. Seeing you out of uniform wasn’t rare, as he saw you in costumes all the time, or dressed up for parties that your parents might throw as a business gathering. But these were clothes that were utterly you, clothes that you felt free in. A natural glow surrounded you as you leaned against the doorway, still getting used to being awake, and this natural look became another aspect of your life that Kyoya was introduced to. 

He couldn’t say that he minded. 

Feeling his gaze on you, you give him a small, closed-lip smile before turning back to the twins in front of you. 

“These idiots asked Haruhi to make expensive tea!” Tamaki wailed. “How is she going to–”

You raised a tired eyebrow at Tamaki before looking over Haruhi’s shoulder from your position. “What are you talking about? She’s fine.”

“And it’s no trouble.” Haruhi insists, giving the hosts a quizzical look of her own. She turns, holding a tray of eight tea cups, filled with steam. “Besides, I’ve already made it.”

As people begin to settle into Haruhi’s home, the minions and the Boss settle back into their huddle. 

“Man, that was a close one.” Hikaru breathes. 

Tamaki solemnly nods. “We’ve been rescued by commoner’s wisdom.”

“What do you mean, sir?” Kaoru asks.

The prince’s voice gets low, serious as he watches Haruhi distribute the cups. “Nothing we know to be true in our world holds here! We have to be careful how we react. One little off-handed comment could break Haruhi’s heart!” 

The Idiotic Trio gasps, already horrified at the thought. “That means, in this fight, the first person to embarrass Haruhi loses!” 

Kyoya just sighs at their behavior, perusing the bookshelf flush against one of the apartment walls. He’s focused on the titles until he feels a presence at his side. 

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

Kyoya watches as you clear your throat, shifting your feet before reaching out. “Do you mind if I reach past you? I left my jewelry on this shelf last night.”

Quirking an eyebrow and looking towards the dark wood of the bookshelf, Kyoya finds a couple of simple bracelets and a necklace draped across the surface. He goes to move out of the way. “Oh, of course-”

You had shifted your body the same way, and chuckled at the mistake. “Sorry, let me just-” 

He goes to move to the other side, but you follow him. “(Y/n), you need to–”

“No, I know, but you need to move that–”

With a few more dance moves, Kyoya huffs. His pale hand reaches out, stopping your movements with a touch on your shoulder and clears his throat. “I will get them for you.” Finally, Kyoya drops the jewelry into your awaiting hand. 

“Thank you.” You mumble, working the (j/c) chain onto your neck. There’s a moment of silence before you are noticing the determined look in the Idiotic Trio’s eyes. 

“I don’t know why they feel the need to turn everything into a contest.” You groan, rolling your stare over the different titles in Haruhi’s library. 

“Their antics can be amusing, however.” The megane counteracts, pulling a book out with his index finger. “Especially when things get competitive.”

A small laugh rolls past your lips, and Kyoya’s smirk grows. “Yeah, you’re right. I just hope they don’t ruin Haruhi’s day.”

“I’m sure they will.” And then a silence falls in between the bustling of hosts as your friends chat, and the Ootori son hates it. What happened to the comfortable silence you two used to share? Could it be saved, or was that too dropped off a cliff’s edge?

He was surprised when he found himself breaking the awkwardness. “I was surprised to see you here this morning.”

Leaning your head against the bookshelf, a hum sounds at the back of your throat. “Yeah, I slept over last night.”

“And how was that?”

Kyoya watches as a smile forms on your tired lips. “Great, actually. It was nice to reconnect.”

“Reconnect?” Lazily, the Ootori son flipped through a couple pages of a law book. “I wasn’t aware you two were estranged.”

Shrugging, you turn away from him. “Not estranged, just…things were tense, for a while. It was my fault.”

“I see.” 

Humming, you nod. “But Haruhi is such a forgiving person, so she welcomed me back with open arms.”

“Are you hinting that I should forgive you whole-heartedly for risking your life?” Kyoya suggests with a blank tone, gray eyes sliding over to you. 

Shaking your head, some of the sleepiness is dislodged from your psyche. “Not at all. I’m over all that.” Your eyes lock with his, and there’s a hint of something there that he hasn’t seen before. “I’m just amazed at how good of a person she is sometimes. Don’t you think so?”

Dark lashes flick to the honor student that is sweat-dropping at a pair of twins who are studying their tea with suspicious glares, wondering if it was made correctly, and if it wasn’t, whether they should drink it anyway. 

“I think she excels where most people of her category do not.” Kyoya nods.

“That’s basically a stellar compliment coming from you.” You laugh, your voice lower in the mornings than during school hours. “But I’m saying that not only is she smart and kind, but she is also ambitious and gorgeous, right?”

Kyoya closes the book in his hand, giving you a searching stare. “I suppose.”

“She’s kind of like the perfect woman, then.” He watches your throat tighten slightly. 

“(Y/n), you’re rambling like a love-sick imbecile. If you’re in love with Haruhi, you can just say it out loud–”

Scoffing, you flip your wet hair over your shoulder. “What? No. I mean, I do love her, but not like that– not that it would be wrong to– I think everyone might be a little in love with Haru– no, but I don’t, personally, but if someone else did, then that would be cool, that would be fine, I’d be okay with that, so. Yeah.” A redness comes to your cheeks, your eyes landing in all directions but his. 

This causes even more confusion to reach Kyoya’s chest. Why was everyone babbling utter nonsense today? “I’m not following.”

Taking a deep breath, you wave him off, moving towards the others. “Whatever, forget about it.”

The Ootori son’s eyelids narrowed. You’re mad at him, then come over to him in a private corner to talk about Haruhi? What was going on with you?

Haruhi looks up to greet you both, her wavering patience clear in her features. “Good for you two to join us.” She gestures to the tea cups set around the table, an empty spot next to her and another by Honey. “Sorry not all the cups match, but it’s all that was clean.”

You smile at her. “Thanks, Haru.” You fold one leg behind the other, getting ready to sit on the honor student’s right side, before you apparently think better of it. Quickly, you straighten and sit yourself next to the boy-lolita. 

Stiffly, Kyoya reverently sits next to Haruhi, watching you across the table with a careful eye. Something was going on, and you wouldn’t be able to hide it for forever. 

On your right, Honey-senpai excitedly sets the cake box down onto the table, opening it to reveal chocolate and strawberry cakes with fluffy sponges. Whipped cream and sprinkle dazzle the tops, and Honey’s eyes just shine with anticipation. But he shakes the stars out of his eyes and looks at Haruhi.

“C’mon Haru-chan! You can choose your cake first!”

“Are you sure, Honey-senpai?” But the martial arts master just nods, bouncing a little in his seat.

Hikaru nods encouragingly. “Yeah, go ahead! We’re rich so we eat this stuff all the time.” A too wide grin stretches his face before it’s knocked off by Tamaki and Kaoru elbowing his sides. 

“What?” He whines, bringing his voice down. “I was trying to be considerate!”

The honor student thinks a little more before choosing one of the strawberry cakes, to Honey’s delight. The trio to Kyoya’s right basks in her cuteness, the small blush on her cheeks as she revels in the rich dessert. Sighing, the megane’s shoulders drop as they begin to tremble slightly, Haruhi’s apparent ‘cuteness’ excelling at new heights. Excited yet sad whispers bounced around the three, and he wished for his black book. 

“Awe, I wish I could tell her how cute she is. But there is no telling what might offend her!” Tamaki pouts. 

In his worry, Honey turns to you, a questioning look in his iris. “(N/n)-chan? Which one do you want?”

Smiling, you pat his head. “Yeah, I’ll get the strawberry one too.” 

The twins practically melt at your kind simper, and the giggly smile that Haruhi produces. Their minds begin to freak, each nerve focused on not embarrassing the honor student. They're in a whole other environment, getting used to the rules of the commoner’s biome. 

A determined nod shakes Honey-senpai’s shoulders, and the boy-lolita scoops two cakes and plops them in front of you and your friend. “Okay! You, me, Takashi and Haru-chan can all have the strawberry ones!”

After the cakes are distributed, a small smile rests on your face as you dig in. Soon after, a plump strawberry is set onto your plate. 

Looking up, you see Mori giving you a kind, gentle smile. “You like strawberries, right? Here, you can have mine.” He pushed the fruit with his fork so that it’s resting near the body of your cake. 

“Thank you, Mori-senpai.” You grin. 

Mori then bends slightly, whispering something between you that has you laughing and rolling your eyes playfully. Kyoya’s mouth twists. 

The director’s own chocolate cake looks rich and dense, and it makes his stomach turn. His family used to try to get him to eat sweets so that he could balance out his blood pressure, but they forced it so much that he became adverse to the fake sugar taste. And somehow, it looks even more repulsing with the glazed strawberry sitting on top of it. 

Looking to his right, Kyoya finds that Haruhi has already begun to devour her plate, the cake quickly disappearing. Her brown eyes shift subtly towards his whole dessert, then back. Swiftly, she steals another wanting look, and Kyoya extends some peace to her suffering want. 

“If you want this dessert, Haruhi, you simply have to ask.” Long fingers push his plate across the table, into the honor student’s space. “I’m certainly not going to eat it.”

Her brown eyes quickly shoot to his cool ones. “Oh, no, Senpai, that’s yours. I don’t want to-”

“Take it.” He insists. “You’d be doing me a favor.” 

Cautiously, Haruhi raises her chopsticks, stabbing the strawberry with a gentle force. A delighted facade plays onto her features as she eats it whole, and Kyoya shakes his head. Oh, the simplest pleasures in life. 

Looking across from him, he accidentally meets your eye, which had been already watching him and Haruhi, he realizes. Quickly, your gaze darts away, but he continues to watch as you push your cake around, your mouth morphin into something of distaste. 

Which was peculiar, considering how much you loved Honey-senpai’s desserts. 

Were you watching him? And then he did something that made you feel worse, and you looked away. His gray eyes darted back to Haruhi. 

Was it that he shared his dessert with her?

“Haruhi…” Kyoya said, testing a hypothesis. The brown-haired student met his eyes once more, her mouth still full with strawberry. “Let me cut that for you.”

Pale fingers work the cake into equal parts with the utensils, despite Haruhi’s protests. Eventually, she lets him do what he wants. “Uh…thank you, Senpai. That’s nice of you, I guess.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees your eyes flicking up and watching him. More specifically, watching him and Haruhi, and the act of service he performs for her. 

Interesting. 

“Ah, why didn’t I think of that?” Hikaru whines as Kyoya pushes Haruhi’s plate back to her, the red head seeing the suspicious but grateful look on the honor student’s face. 

Kyoya sighs when he sees Tamaki bend over and start slamming the ground with his fist. “I should’ve been sharing my cake with her!”

Kaoru holds his own cheeks in his hands. “Why’d we let him trick us?!”

While that side of the table freaked out over virtually nothing, the other side sat back, satisfied looks on their faces as their desserts settled in their stomachs. 

Honey-senpai patted his belly, his cheeks scattered with crumbs. “Ah, eating all the cake really wet my appetite.” He takes a second to burp, the high pitched sound echoing through Haruhi’s small living area. 

That gives Hikaru an idea. “Yeah, isn’t it lunchtime right about now?”

Kyoya does note the empty feeling in his stomach, and he watches as the Idiotic Trio put on sickening smiling faces, facing Haruhi with a weird kindness. 

They speak in unison. “Yeah, what’s for lunch, Haruhi?”

You roll your eyes, your dessert still only half eaten. “Aren’t you trying not to put pressure on her? How does that help?”

“And would you quit being so happy-go-lucky all the time?” Haruhi asks, her brow twitching. 

But Kyoya couldn’t look away from your plate, the cake like a half moon in the sky. On any other day, that dessert would’ve been gone, but not today. 

“Hmm.” The ravenet hums aloud before standing, a routine smirk gracing his lips. “We’ll take care of it, Haruhi. We did drop by unexpectedly.” He fixes the frames on his nose. “Why don’t you order from your favorite sushi place?” 

At the edge of his glasses, you set your fork down, the unfinished cake abandoned on your plate. 

Haruhi shakes her head, sending him an unimpressed glance. “Thanks, but no thanks.” She holds her hands up in a surrendering manner. “I know that I let you guys pay, I’ll only regret it later.”

At that, Kyoya’s smirk grows, and his hands reach into one of his vest pockets. “Oh, don’t worry Haruhi.” Whipping out a credit card, his pale fingers present it to the Natural Type, watching the gold color glisten in the sun. “We’ll just pay for it using the profits from the photos of you we auctioned off.”

A sarcastic laugh wheezed out of the honor student. “So I’m really paying for it after all.”

Getting up from the table, she dusts off the skirt of her dress. “Well, if that is what you want, I do have a friend who runs a nice little sushi shop nearby so I can give him a call. Their stuff is pretty high quality.”

Haruhi takes the card from Kyoya as the rest of the Ouran students rise from the table, getting ready to head to the sushi place. Suddenly, you step to Kyoya, and he feels your elbow jostle into his side. Usually, the gesture was gentle, but he felt it dig into his ribs a little harder than the times before. 

“Do you really trust her to choose the place where we order lunch?” You ask lowly around the bustle of your friends. “I love the girl, but she doesn’t have the most refined taste.”

“Another instance in which you admit your love for Haruhi. As I’ve said, if you’re falling head over heels for our newest host, just say so.”

He catches the roll of your eyes. “I’m not.” You respond, and a meaningful beat passes as Kyoya catches Tamaki beginning to furiously write something on a piece of paper. The blonde then army crawls across the mats, and not-so-secretly hands it to Haruhi, who reads it over with a confused glance. Tamaki has once again underestimated her because she is a commoner, suggesting that she doesn’t know the difference between cheap and fancy tuna. 

She chews him out for it, bringing a humored grin to both of your lips. 

“But she would be an easy girl to fall in love with.” Voicing your thoughts, you fold your arms across your chest. 

“Has anyone ever told you that you tend to send mixed signals?”

A small laugh poured out of your mouth. “I’m just saying.” A lone hair is tucked away. “I wonder how she has stayed single for this long.”

Kyoya shrugs, and without the comfortable distraction of his black book, indulges in your gossip. “Haruhi seems like the girl to have a specific set of standards for who she might be involved with romantically.”

“You think you might have an idea of who she wants to be with?” He feels you turn your head to look at him, the warmth of your gaze caressing his features, but he doesn’t look back. 

He decides to keep his answer vague. “I’m sure I could make an educated guess.” His own spectacled eye falls to the blonde man who is currently being disciplined with his own note, rolled up in Haruhi’s hand. But he lets you make your own assumption on what he means. 

His face turns colder. You’ve looked away. “I’m sure you could.” You try to keep your tone light. 

Being the Cool-Type, he shoves a hand into the pocket of his pants. “Why the sudden interest in Haruhi’s love life?”

Kyoya sees the stutter before it manifests on your tongue, the sound tensing your shoulders and wringing your hands. “What? I’m not suddenly interested.” You protest. “She’s my best friend, I’m always looking out for stuff like that.”

“Then why not discuss it with her? Or someone else more versed in that sort of thing?” Finally, he glides his gray eyes over to you. “Why ask me?”

You scoff. “It’s not like I’ve been seeking you out personally.” 

“Twice now, you’ve commented on Haruhi’s love life to me.” Kyoya is careful to keep his tone casual, unaccusing. “And you know I’m not one for gossip.”

“We both know that’s a lie.” Your mouth quirks up a bit. “You love the information you can get from mere rumors.”

Smirking, he pushes his frames up and turns to face you fully. “I’m not in favor of gossip about romantic relationships. Or secrecy in general. If one was to develop, especially in our nosy Host Club, I’m sure they’d be found out eventually. People might as well be open about them.”

Slowly, you turn to him, giving him a careful once over. “Really? You don’t think there should be an effort to hide it?” 

“Why try? When it comes to any of us, Tamaki is already over-protective. The twins have their ear open for any information that could pose as blackmail. Mori and Honey-senpai are already more observant than we give them any credit for.” 

He shrugs, turning to the group that is currently trying to pull an angry Haruhi off a crying prince. “There wouldn’t be any point in trying to keep it a secret.”

You take a sharp intake of breath. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

He gives you a questioning glance. “Why not?”

His eyes drop to the way you bite your lip, a tell-tale sign your tongue has turned to knots. Your eyes dart to the chaos, and you decide to step in the fray. “Nevermind.” A nervous laugh resonates against Haruhi’s living room. “I should probably help them before they actually hurt anyone. Or themselves.”

Kyoya just nods, observing how you throw yourself into the mayhem and finally pry the note away from Haruhi’s hand, holding her in a gentle headlock. 

It didn’t make sense for him to support the openness of romantic relationships in the Host Club.

What was confusing about it? 

Was it the fact that any information about the Hosts being in a relationship would deteriorate revenue for the club, or initiate jealous outbursts within their clientele? Or was it because it didn’t make sense for him, Kyoya Ootori, demon robot lord disconnected from all emotion. 

He felt like he was getting closer to why you were angry with him but also asking these intrusive questions, honing the variables in an equation that was beyond his skill level. But things were still convoluted, and he needed more information. He needed more time. 

“Actually,” Honey speaks above all the noise. “I’d really love it if you made us something for lunch, Haru-chan.” 

Perfect. 

The twins gasp. “No Honey-senpai! How could you ask that of her?!”

Tamaki hisses, icing a bump on his forehead. “Don’t upset her, Senpai! Try to restrain yourself!”

There’s a pause in the bustle as plans change, Haruhi nodding as an idea pops into her mind. “I guess I could whip up something for lunch.”

“We can wait!” Honey says with a bright grin.

The Idiotic Trio develops stars in their eyes, gasping as they relish in a world where they get to try Haruhi’s cooking. 

You give them a questioning stare. “I think something might be wrong with you three.”

Another pondering hum comes from Haruhi. “I would have to go back to the supermarket.”

The twins shoot up, on their feet in seconds. “We’re coming with you!” Hikaru announces, while Karou exclaims, “We want to see a commoner’s supermarket!”

“Me too!” Honey agrees, pulling Mori along with him.

Kyoya steps to Haurhi’s side, genuinely intrigued when he says, “This could be a learning experience.” 

Suddenly, you’re stepping between them, shrugging as they move farther away from each other. “Well, if everyone is going…” You say, giving Haruhi a thumbs up. The honor student seems nervous to have all of her upper class friends following her to a general store. 

But you’re pulled off by your armpits as the twins drag you out of the apartment, throwing your shoes at you while they chant, “Commoner’s supermarket, commoner’s supermarket!” 

Honey skips out, still holding Mori’s hand, singing along with them. 

But Kyoya stays behind for a moment, turning to catch the honor student as she grabs her purse. “(Y/n) mentioned that she had fun at your slumber party.”

Haruhi’s eyebrows shot straight up for a second before registering that Kyoya was actually talking to her about a sleepover, before shoving the rest of her stuff into her bag. “Yeah? Well, it’s good to hear you guys are talking to each other again.”

“Mm. We are.” The Ootori son clears his throat. “But, lately, she has been bringing up some, might I say, interesting points of conversation.”

Haruhi was still giving him that look. The look that told him to get to the point. “Okay?”

“Excuse me if I’m overstepping, but has (Y/n) brought up your love life at all?” He asks, and he fights the uncomfortable feeling he gets about intruding on Haruhi’s romantic life. He would not be interested at all if he wasn’t trying to solve his own problem. 

“Mine?” Haruhi laughs. “Like, who I have a crush on?”

“Exactly.” Kyoya skirts around the awkwardness. “Unfortunately, she has been talking quite a bit about who you are interested in, and I’d like to find out why.” 

“I guess it is weird that she’s suddenly focused on that.” She says, still chuckling. But the humor dies down, and to Kyoya’s satisfaction, she nods her head in confirmation. “Actually, she did bring it up last night. We were just making cookies, and she was asking if I liked anyone.”

“Really?” The megane leans against her kitchen counter. 

“Yeah, now that you mention it, it was a little sudden. Like she had been waiting to ask me the whole day.” She packs away a chapstick. 

“What did she say?”

Her mouth twists distastefully. “That’s private, Senpai.”

Gray eyes squint behind his glasses. Reaching into his vest pocket, he reveals a glinting blue credit card, contrasting from the gold one he presented earlier. “What if I pay for your groceries, and anything else you may need from this commoner’s supermarket?”

She gapes a little at the sheer elegance the credit card exhibits before sighing. “I’m only telling you because you two are close, or at least you used to be. And, I’m a little curious too, if I’m honest.”

Kyoya nodded, even though she hadn’t denied his offer. 

Haruhi throws her bag onto her shoulder. “She was just saying things like, ‘oh, if you did like anybody, I’d be excited and try to push you two together’! But she did not look excited at all.”

“Huh.” He hums, his fingers framing his chin. 

“She told me you guys got in a fight, though.”

Those fingers move up his face to rub his forehead. “We did. It’s been resolved.”

“Has it?” There’s a glint in her irises, and Kyoya adds her to the list of over-observant people in the Host Club. 

Before he can reply, she’s pushing him out the door. “Let me know what’s going on with her, and I’ll let you know what she tells me. We can tag team it.”

“As much as I despise that term, I agree with your partnership.” He says, holding down the railing as he walks into the cool spring air. “I have a plan.”

“Of course you do.” Haruhi then turns back into the apartment, noticing something inside and leaves the door open to investigate. Kyoya looks at the small group of impatient hosts who are still avoiding the obvious gawks from other common people, and sees Tamaki is missing. Must be who Haruhi saw inside. 

When he finally makes it to the bottom of the stairs, he sees you and the twins huddled together, talking in hushed voices. He strains his ears, but he can barely make out any of the words that you’re saying. But it seems secretive and suspicious. Terms that have been describing you as of late. 

The twins’ faces were blanched, shaking their heads as it looks like you are trying to convince them of something, your stature smart and confident. The Ootori son inches closer. 

“But why would he want that?” Hikaru whispers, grimacing. “I can’t see it.”

“No, no. It’s true. I can’t tell you how I know, but I know.” You say, pulling them in closer. “And it’s up to us to make it happen.”

“And you’re okay with this?” Kaoru asks, ginger eyebrows tying together. 

“Do you guys want in or not?” You ask, exasperated. 

The twins look at each other and shrug. “Guess it couldn’t hurt. We’re bored, anyways.”

Suddenly, a thud is heard back at Haruhi’s apartment, and Kyoya realizes that the pair of president and honor-student never returned down the steps. 

You meet his eyes, breaking from your huddle and walking towards him. “Did Haruhi come down with you?”

“No.” He shakes his head, and the rest of the Host Club briskly walks up the rest of the stairs. “But she did idiotically leave her door open. Anyone could’ve walked in.”

The twins are hurrying up the steps, and even Kyoya feels his confusion fuel into his thighs, pressing urgency into each stair as they rush to the top. 

But when Hikaru and Kaoru make it to the doorway of Haruhi’s apartment, their worried faces morph into confused expressions. 

“Hey boss, what in the world is taking you so long?”

And when Kyoya finally rounds the edge of the entrance into the honor student’s living space, he sees a red-haired individual picking up Haruhi off the floor, their president smashed face first into the mats on the floor. 

The Hitachiian brothers snicker, and Kaoru’s smile grows a little bigger. “Woah, check it out. This person is Haruhi’s father.”

Tamaki growls at the boys while Kyoya tries to put together how he had gotten beat up in the first place. By Haruhi’s father, no less. 

“Hikaru, Kaoru!” Tamaki whines. “Help me out here!”

The gingered devils ignore him, most likely remembering their mission to not embarrass Haruhi. They walk over Tamaki, holding out their hands like perfect gentlemen. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Haruhi's dad. We’re good friends of your daughter’s, the Hitachiian brothers!”

“So you cross dress, do you?” Hikaru asks.

“You’re the first man we’ve seen to wear women’s clothes and actually pull it off!” Kaoru compliments, ignoring the fact that they just dressed up like women a week prior. 

And just when Kyoya connects the dots on the Tamaki-shaped hole in the wall, a blushing Haruhi, and an angry father, both brother’s turn to the prince under their feet. “You finally put the moves on Haruhi, didn’t you boss?”

Annoyed, they turn their bright smiles back to Haruhi’s dad. “Sorry about him, he’s a ladies man, if you know what I mean.”

“He’s a pheromone machine. In fact, he’s fooled around with more ladies than you can count!” 

Kyoya hears you chuckle next to him, putting your face in your hands to hide your smile. 

“He likes to fool around, huh?” Haruhi’s dad stands to his full height. His body type was lean, and his red wig looks real as it flows around his shoulders. His simple outfit of a skirt, shirt, and a shall wraps around his body as he frowns at the boy still getting stomped by the twins. 

But the blonde pushes them off, desperate to clear his name. “No! I’m not a ladies man! I’m a nice guy! I care about her!”

You and the ravenet meet eyes when he sees Haruhi’s shoulders tense. You lean over, and he sees you watching him carefully. “Is he confessing his love for her?”

Tamaki drops to his knees, bowing respectfully to his elder. “I’m being completely honest here. I care about Haruhi like she is my own daughter.”

The Host Club deflates, rolling their eyes and grumbling under their breaths. Kyoya shrugged, giving you a side glance. “I suppose we aren’t at that part in the storyline.” 

But the older man just hums, meeting the eyes of each host club member. “I get it. You must be the host club I’ve heard so much about.” Then a twinkle shines in his eye. “You certainly are a fine group of men.” He winks at you. “And women.”

A smile comes to your lips, and you shake your head.

“Why don’t we all sit down and get to know each other, hm?” Haruhi’s dad suggests, a sickly sweet smile presenting on his face. He gestures back to the table, cake crumbs still scattered across it. “My home is your home.”

Kyoya bows slightly, putting on his ‘perfect son’ routine. “Thank you. That’s very kind.” 

You walk over to the man, giving his make-up a once over. “See? I told you the purple eyeshadow would work, Ranka.”

“Ranka?” Honey-senpai questions as the hosts make their way to the table. 

“Oh, yes.” As everyone settles into their spots, Kyoya sits straight on Ranka’s left, while you take a seat to his right. “That is the professional name that I use at the bar that I work at.”

“Like a stage name?” Honey-senpai asks, big brown eyes looking at him from across the table’s surface. 

“Exactly like that, Mitsukuni.”

Kyoya simpers proudly while the martial arts master cocks his head. “Hold on. How do you know my name, sir?”

Ranka simply smiles. “You two are third years Mitsukuni Haninosuka and Takashi Morinozuka.” He states, gesturing to the kendo legends. 

Then he begins to move down the line. “And the two of you are first-years in the same class as Haruhi, you’re the Hitachiian twins! But, I’m not sure which one is which.” He admits. “I’ve heard so much about you!”

Hikaru and Kaoru light up. “Wait, so Haruhi told you about us?”

Ranka holds his hands up in surrender. “No, no. Kyoya told me all about all of you over the phone!” 

The ravenet smiles, and he presses his palms against Ranka’s. “You really are a beautiful person, Ranka.”

Haruhi’s dad blushes. “You’re too kind. And too handsome!” To Kyoya’s only slight surprise, Ranka then turns to you. 

“And your updates, (Y/n), are also incredibly helpful.” Then the red-haired man leans towards you. “Although, you did fail to tell me how much of an idiot your president was.”

The Idiotic Trio blanches blanches, and you knowingly pat Ranka on the shoulder. “He is an acquired taste.” 

Then, you lean around Ranka to get a better look at the club’s director. “You know Ranka?” You ask.

Kyoya picks up his tea, pristinely placing the porcelain in his palm. “We’ve been entrusted with the care of his precious daughter. It is only natural that we introduce ourselves and give him periodic reports.”

“Say what?!” The club exclaims. 

“Kyoya!” His best friend whines, and a hand grips his shoulder. 

But he just sips his tea, sighing into the steam. “Ordinarily, that would be your job, wouldn’t it?” The pale hand recoils as Tamaki sinks back into his sob corner. Mushrooms begin to sprout on Haruhi’s walls. 

Speaking of the honor student. “Why didn’t you tell me you were getting calls from Kyoya-senpai, Dad? You never mentioned this to me.” She shouts. 

“Awe, what am I supposed to do, Haruhi? You rarely tell me anything about school! I have to get it from these two, or else I get nothing at all!”

“So that makes it okay to talk behind my back?” Irritated, the honor student turns to Tamaki, plucking fungus out of the walls. “C’mon, Senpai, would you please stop growing mushrooms in other people’s closets?”

But she is swept up by her adoring father, who coos at her irked mood. “But Haruhi, you’re cute even when you’re angry!”

With Ranka up and away from the group, he meets your eye. 

“You know, Haruhi’s dad has always reminded me of someone.” You say, watching as Haruhi tries to pry her dad off of her. 

Kyoya nods in agreement, and he could nearly laugh at the longing look on Tamaki’s face. “It explains why she handles our prince so well.”

Finally, Haruhi is able to push her dad off. She huffs, adjusting the strap on her bag and putting her short brown hair back into alignment. With an angry grunt, she spins towards the door, to her father’s dismay. 

“Wait, Haruhi!” He calls. “Where are you going?”

“To the supermarket, alright?” Haruhi’s voice is short. “I have to go shopping so that I can make lunch for you all.”

The host club stands, and you part from the boys. “Do you want someone to go with you?”

Haruhi’s brown eyes scan meaningfully along the line up of her friends, and she rolls her eyes. “Fine. Only (Y/n) can come.”

You stutter. “Are you sure you want me? I was thinking maybe Tamaki, or even Kyoya could–”

“(Y/n), either you come with me, or I go alone.” Haruhi had already made up her mind. 

“No, no. I’m going, I’m going.” You say, and skip past the host club. 

“What?!” Kaoru shrieks as you make your way across the living room, giving them a smug smile, and Kyoya folds his arms. 

“Wait!” Hikaru calls. “We want to go see the commoner’s supermarket.” But you and Haruhi were already out the door. 

Ranka deflates next to him. “I wouldn’t push it. Once she’s made up her mind, she’ll never change it. When she decided she wanted to go to Ouran Academy, she did all the enrollment paperwork herself.”

He sighs, and Kyoya watches as he rakes red hair back behind his ear. “‘While I respect her independent spirit, I wish she’d be a little more dependent on me sometimes.”

Around Kyoya, the hosts look up to Ranka with stars in their eyes, the ravenet with a more respectful stare. The man pulling off a women’s jacket begins to tell a story of Haruhi’s independence that leaves a proud shine within the Host Club, one where she neglected to tell her dad about Career Day at her school, just so he could have a day off. 

He sighs again, his voice a little higher pitched than most men. “I just hope you boys know how grateful I am. Since she has found you all and (Y/n), she seems to be happier. She is enjoying herself, wouldn’t you agree, Tamaki Suoh?”

Tamaki plucks his head out of the mushroom closet. “You know who I am?”

Ranka rolls his eyes. “Of course I do. Haruhi has told me a thing or two about you. You’re the host club’s bumbling president, aren’t you?”

Kyoya’s best friend sobs happily, and the ravenet takes another sip of tea. Ranka follows his example. 

“Come to think of it,” Haruhi’s dad continues. “You’re the one who didn’t realize that Haruhi was a girl until the very last moment. You’re clueless, aren’t you? Pretty pathetic.”

Kyoya resists from sputtering a laugh into his tea when Tamaki slinks back into his depression, you being out of range to comfort him in his state of despair.  

Ranka’s tea cup clinks back onto the table. “Now that we’ve gotten all the introductions out of the way, how would you boys like to have a little fun?”

By fun, the last thing Kyoya expected from a man who works in a bar so flamboyant was to be following his daughter and her best friend to the supermarket. 

But here he was, barely even trying to be secretive as they ducked behind a streetlight, a bored sigh blowing out of his lips. The sun reflected off his glasses and his black locks, the muscles in his jaw working to hide his disinterest. People around them were still gawking at them, and while Kyoya was used to being in the spotlight, it wasn’t the most ideal situation.

He was trying to concentrate, after all. 

He cursed himself for not being able to read lips as well as his brothers, another aspect in which he was inferior to them. If he hadn’t focused so much on his academics when he was younger, he would know what you and Haruhi were talking about, and he could put this all to rest. 

It was obvious you were talking about Haruhi’s love life again. The slight blush on her cheeks and the way she grimaced as you playfully prodded her side with your elbow gave that away. And he supposed it wasn’t too out of the ordinary. You two were very close, even more so after what had happened on the beach. Naturally, he was sure romantic relationships would come up eventually. 

But clearly, it was making Haruhi more than a little uncomfortable. Haruhi was a patient person, due to the extravagant person she was raised by, but you were starting to get to the edge of her patience, it seemed. Kyoya regarded the honor student putting her hand on your shoulder, stopping you mid-sentence, and most likely telling you, in the calmest way possible, to change the topic. 

Your shoulders dropped as you realized you had pushed a boundary, and a sheepish smile quirked your lips. He could make out your apology, at least, and then he lost his intrigue as you both probably moved on to something that wouldn’t benefit him. 

“Who’re you looking at? Hm?” Kyoya heard two voices on either side of his shoulders, and he suppressed a groan. 

“What’re you two talking about?” The ravenet grumbled. 

Hikaru snickered. “You seem pretty absorbed in our two girls over there.”

“But which one were you spying on?” Kaoru teased.

Rolling his eyes, Kyoya kept a neutral demeanor. “Are we not supposed to be spying on these two? I am only following Ranka’s direction.”

“I don’t know…” Kaoru’s voice carries a sing-song-like mockery.

Hikaru laughed, grabbing onto his shoulder. “There’s definitely something different about the way you’re doin’ it. Like you’re looking for something.”

Kyoya shrugs him off. “I’m not looking for anything. Don’t act like idiots in front of our elders.” Luckily, the rest of the group was far enough ahead to where Kyoya didn’t have to worry about accidentally embarrassing himself. 

“It’s Haruhi, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you like her, right?”

As they walked, Kyoya narrowly avoided stumbling over the uneven concrete. “I’m sorry?”

The twins sigh. “We wouldn’t blame you. Just know that we would kill you if you did anything to hurt her.”

“And the Boss might just completely eradicate you from existence for touching his little girl. But, you know, nothing to worry about.” 

“My god.” Kyoya’s throat is dry from the surprise, his mouth contorting in distaste. “You two truly need to find another game to play. This one is just distasteful.”

Their confident smirks begin to falter. “Oh, come on, Shadow King, you can tell us.”

“Yeah, we won’t say a word.”

The megane keeps his voice level, sighing himself back to a point of equilibrium. “I am not an instrument for your entertainment.”

Before they can say anything else, you and Haruhi turn a corner, motivating their group of spies to change positions. Ranka waves everyone over as they cross the street, crowding the boys behind a separate street light. Kyoya makes sure to plant himself near Tamaki and Haruhi’s father, pushing the twins to the back. 

They still manage to make themselves heard, to his aggravation. 

“So,” Hikaru calls. “We’re just going to follow her to the supermarket?” 

Kyoya hums, leaning against the wall framing the sidewalk. “This is what you meant by fun?”

Ranka nods happily. “I call it the stalking game.” 

A few more people pass them on the other side of the street, their eyes basically turning into stars as they bask in the beauty of the host club. One woman turns to her friend, her voice hushed and giddy. 

“What an attractive group of young men!”

Her friend is just as amazed. “Do you think they’re T.V. stars?”

Hearing their conversation, Ranka basks in the attention. “In all honesty,” He starts, a wistful breath blowing into the spring air. “I have a completely selfish reason for bringing you all out with me.”

Ranka pries his sunglasses off in a dramatic fashion. Very Tamaki-esque. “I want to be seen with a bunch of cute boys!”

Haurhi’s dad has the same gleam in his eye that Tamaki equips nearly every morning when the Host Club door opens, and Kyoya can’t help but think that these two are definitely cut from the same cloth. 

You and Haruhi then make another turn, causing the group to shift their places again. Huffing, Kyoya crosses with them, but he is surprised when Ranka falls back to walk with him. 

“Ranka.” Kyoya greets, placing a polite smile on his lips. There is a glint in the man’s eyes that Kyoya doesn’t appreciate, but he doesn’t comment on it. 

“I just wanted to thank you, again, for keeping me in the loop with my daughter.” Ranka says. “It has really kept me from going crazy with worry.” 

The club’s director hums. “It’s no problem at all. Anything the Host Club can do to keep your peace of mind.” Kyoya chuckles. “If only I’d known (Y/n) was doing something similar, I wouldn’t have bothered you as often.” 

But Ranka shoos his worries away. “Don’t apologize. It’s good to see that Haruhi has two people looking out for her. That (Y/n) is truly great for my little girl. I can see why you speak about her so highly.”

The sun’s ray catches Kyoya lenses a little too sharply for a moment. “Well, I’m sure anyone you speak to about (Y/n) would discuss her with similar praise.” 

Ranka’s lips fold between his teeth as he shakes his head, rubbing his lipstick as he thinks. “Mm, I don’t know. She tends to pop up into our conversations quite often.” 

Kyoya’s attention draws back to you, your form trailing toward the entrance into the supermarket. “I don’t think–”

“Awe, and the way she goes on and on about you.” Ranka gasps, cupping one of his cheeks as he practically dances while he walks. “I would absolutely melt if someone spoke about me that way.”

The megane’s gaze snaps to the man. “Really? Well, I’m afraid to ask what she says. I didn’t realize she spoke about me.” His heart hammers in his chest. 

Ranka lets out a sad tune. “Well, she used to, anyway. Used to just ramble about that big project you and her are working on, and how grateful she was to be your partner through it.” Shaking his head, his red hair glints in the sunbeams. “But she hasn’t really said anything as of late.”

“I see.” He swallows the lump in his throat. Clearly, the fight you two had, or are currently in, is still affecting both of your lives. Guilt sticks to the bottom of his stomach, but he erases it. He was still in the right. “That might’ve been partly my doing.”

Of course he was right. 

“So I’ve heard.” Ranka gives him a long look then, his voice dropping up and down in those dramatic octaves. “Curse that cliff, and curse men who don’t know how to treat good, beautiful women.” 

“Agreed.” 

“But also, curse grudges, dishonesty, and pride, hm? Curse anything that keeps us from being honest with the people we hold dear. And with ourselves.”

Kyoya's lips feel cracked in the gentle spring breeze as they part, and his glasses fall a little further down his nose. Ranka’s eyes aren’t as dark as Haruhi’s, but they melt into a toffee with the day’s warmth. A father, who has lost the woman he loves, regarding a student, but never just a student, who pushes people away for his own self-assurance. A look of deep understanding, and it almost knocks the director off of his feet. 

But of course it doesn’t. Nothing could ever knock the Shadow King off balance. 

Kyoya rights himself, rights the impossible war of pride versus insecurity, and smiles, pretending not to notice the sincerity in Ranka’s irises. 

“Of course,” he says, stepping through the automatic doors of the supermarket and making a sharp turn. Away from the group, the pack of attractive men. He reads the back of product after product, busying himself with knowledge of a new thing. A new way of life that he could never, would never be a part of. 

It’s truly an interesting, gratifying distraction. 

“What aisle are they in?” 

“Fourteen. In the back and to the right.” 

You and Haruhi snicker slightly, keeping your gaze on the vegetables in front of you, mist lightly dripping off leaves of cabbage. The coolness from the refrigerator washes over the both of you as you secretly track the Host Club and Ranka, having spotted them the moment they stepped out of the Fujioka residence. 

Haruhi sighs after her laughter dies down. “Geez, I don’t know why he feels like he has to follow me.” There’s love in her voice, but it isn’t without annoyance. “I can go shopping on my own.” 

You nudge her shoulder with yours, reaching forward to examine a head of cabbage. “I think he’s just protective of you.” 

“Right, because that’s what I need.” She snarks. “More protective men in my life.”

You both laugh again, and you feel the boys inch closer behind you. You can pretty much see them in the reflection of the glass behind the veggie display, Tamaki and Ranka more attentive than anyone else. 

Kyoya leans his back against one of the aisle ends, his glasses hiding his eyes as he works to conceal that he is listening to Tamaki and Ranka’s conversation. But you can tell. The way his head leans down, but his torso slightly aims towards the over-the-top duo. It’s obvious. 

Your eyes slide to the previously mentioned princes, the two looking soft and serious as they speak about Haruhi, most likely. “It’s nice that your dad is always looking out for you.”

The honor student sighs. “Sometimes it is, I guess. I just wish he gave himself a break.” Haruhi twiddles the leaf of a radish. “He just gets so worried, like he doesn’t think I can protect myself.”

A fond smile breaks out on her face. “One time, he did not hide himself very well. It was to the point where I couldn’t not catch him.” You chuckle. “He acted all embarrassed, saying that he just wanted to carry my shopping basket because of how much he loved accessories.” 

Her eyes flick to her father’s reflection. “He’s so weird.”

“He sure is.” You agree, but you’re both grinning, watching Ranka argue with your president. “But he loves you. That’s clear, at least.”

Her smile softens. “I know.” 

As you’re watching the pair, your eyes drift back to the club’s director. His lenses have cleared up, and you see his gaze meet yours in the mirror. Your eyes widen and you quickly look away. 

“Shit.” You confess, chuckling. “I think Kyoya knows we see them.” 

Haruhi just shrugs. “He probably doesn’t care about any of this.” 

Your eyebrows crinkle. This whole day had been filled of pushing them together, getting at least one of your best friends to confess their feelings about each other to you but to no avail. It was a little hurtful, them being so secret about it even when Kyoya insisted that any official romantic relationship within the host club should be open and honest. 

Maybe they were still figuring it out between them? Was the night at the beach the first time they had been that close? 

Too be ruefully honest, you hoped so. To think that there were other intimate moments previous to that one, overlapping with the soft, flirty memories that you held so dearly with your megane, it pinched your heartstrings. 

“He cares more than you think he does.” You say sincerely, giving her the best comforitng smile you could muster. “He just likes to pretend he doesn’t.”

“Probably because he truly couldn’t care less.” And Haruhi’s laughing, shaking her head as she completely disreagrds his care for her. Care that he has made clear on his own bedsheets. “Kyoya was most likely dragged along with Tamaki’s antics.”

Huffing, you angle your body towards her. “I don’t think so. His motivations aren’t always so…superficial.” 

Haruhi gives you a confused glance. “I know that. But, in this case?” Her tone is humorful. “He’s definitely marking the nearest exits. Did you see how early it was when he showed up with the other’s at my door? Poor guy looked like he was dragged out of his bed.”

“Or,” You start, folding your arms across your chest. “He woke up early to come see you.”

“Are we talking about the same Kyoya-senpai?” She says, but her smile isn’t as easy as she senses your irritation. 

“Yes. I’m just wondering, there couldn’t be any other reason he was suddenly at your door with all his friends this morning?”

Haruhi’s brown eyes are suddenly exhausted, and she rolls them so hard, she could’ve pulled a muscle. “Again, (Y/n)? It hasn’t even been half an hour. You said you would drop it.”

“No, I know.” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry. I just…I’m trying to understand.”

“Understand what?”

Your attention darts back to the reflection in the glass, seeing that the hosts have distracted themselves with something else. The twins are ogling over the stacks of instant coffee, Mori is pushing Honey-senpai in a shopping cart, and Tamaki and Ranka are still at each other’s throats. 

Well, Ranka is the one baring his teeth. Tamaki is just crying, clearly upset about the lack of acceptance from Haruhi’s dad. 

Most importantly, Kyoya is elsewhere, scanning his gray eyes over two for one coupons, and probably internally gawking at how a company would voluntarily lose money in favor of their customers. 

“Haruhi,” You say, exhaling. “You’re my best friend.”

The honor student faces you fully. She wraps her arms around her torso, her empty shopping basket hanging off her elbow. “I know that. You’re mine, too.”

“Well, I thought that meant that you’d be completely honest with me.” Your voice is gentle, forgiving as you reach out to her. “And you would know that I couldn’t be angry with you even if I tried.”

“Honest with you? And why would you be angry with me?” You could tell this took her aback. Haruhi had been called many things in her youth, but she had never been accused of being dishonest. 

“I’m not. I could never be. So, when you keep secrets from me, it makes me wonder if I’m a bad friend. Or if I’ve done something that would make you feel uncomfortable opening up to me.”

“What do you mean when I keep secrets?” Haruhi asks, and she uncrosses her arms, putting one hand on her hip. 

You give her a blank stare, giving up your facade. “C’mon, Haru. I know.”

Haruhi doesn’t say anything for a moment, waiting for you to explain yourself. When you just stand there, looking at her expectantly, she gives in. “Know what?”

You groan, putting a hand over your eyes. “Haruhi.”

“I’m serious! I truly have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“See? This is what I’m talking about!” You say, keeping your voice at a reasonable level. You weren’t angry, just being upfront and truthful, like how Haruhi usually is with you. “You don’t have to save my feelings, Haru. I’m fine with it, I promise.”

“Fine with what?” Haruhi emphasizes that last word, annoyance lacing her tone. “I’m serious, I have no idea what you’re talking about. If I’m keeping something from you, I’m clearly doing a very good job. So good, in fact, that I, I don’t know, purged it from my own memory.”

“You’re really going to make me say it?”

“(Y/n), you have too.” The brunette pleads. “I’m so confused.”

Your jaw ticks, and you heave out a sigh. “I know you like him.”

Haruhi just shakes her head. “Like who?”

You take another peak at the reflection, making sure no one is paying attention. “Kyoya.”

The supermarket has never felt so silent. Even has customers move around the two of you, even as Ranka begins pulling Tamakis cheeks apart, the way Haruhi stays perfectly still brings all bustle around you to a pseudo pause. Whether it was her shock, or your anticipation, even the air managed to stay perfectly still. 

Then the misters for the vegetables turn on. And Haruhi bursts out laughing. 

The hand on her hip holds her side, as if every muscles in her body is physically rejecting any romantic thought about the club’s director. The sound rings throughout the aisles, and the men behind you pause at the sound, basking in it before resuming their one-sided argument. 

Really, Ranka was just enjoying torturing Tamaki at this point. 

Collecting the tears in her eyes, Haruhi has a hard time speaking through her laughter. “Oh my god, (Y/n), you really had me going there.”

“I don’t get the joke.” Your voice is monotone, a single note on a piece of sheet music. 

“You looked so serious, I thought something was wrong!’” Another bout of giggles. “But god, me and Kyoya. Me and Kyoya?” 

“But why do you think it’s funny?” You say over her humor. “I think you two…you know…” Waving your hand, you fill the empty space awkwardly. “...would be good together.’

“No, no we wouldn’t.” She still can’t get over it. “Hell could freeze over, (Y/n), and somehow, it would be my responsibility to pay for it when it comes to Kyoya-senpai.” 

You point to her shaking form, punctuating each syllable, trying to pierce her laughter. “You like him.”

“Not in a million years.”

“And he likes you.” You say, slightly less confident. 

Her brown eyes meets yours, and they’re full of mirth. “How could you think that? With the way he dove off a cliff for you? Kyoya is a very one track minded individual. When he wants something, it’s very hard for him to desire something else.” 

Hope bubbles into the chambers of your heart before you pop them, shaking your head. “No, no, but I…” You drop your voice, encouraging Haruhi to come closer. “I saw you.”

“You’re still not making sense.” She says, looking at you the way she does with her father, or Tamaki. Like someone she loves is being very dramatic and strange. “And I passed honors calculus.”

“Haru.” Your voice is suddenly very serious, and you realize that as blunt and intelligent as Haruhi is, she is also incredibly oblivious. “I saw you two. On the bed.”

Her smile drops. 

“What?” There is a dumbfounded look in her eyes, and you take her shoulder in comfort. 

“It’s okay! That night, at the beach, I saw you both on his bed when I came to return his medkit.” You push the dread, sadness and horror deeper into yourself, keeping a reassuring visage. “Really, it’s okay. I just wished you had told me that you liked him. I wouldn’t have been so open about my own crush.”

Her irises flick between both of yours, a different kind of surprise taking root in the air around you. She watches as you shrug sheepishly, embarrassment and forced joy resonating in your posture.

“God,” Haruhi starts, and she wants to shake you so hard that your head nearly falls off your shoulders. Lovingly, of course. “(Y/n), no, that’s–”

A blur of blonde interrupts her sentence as Tamaki stumbles between the two of you. Both of you watch as his body splays out onto the supermarket floor, his chin hitting the tile with a smack. 

“What the–?” Haruhi asks, feeling whiplash. But Tamaki very suddenly rights himself, his hand coming to rub the back of his hair, which has mushrooms growing in it again. He turns to face Haruhi fully, completely shadowing you. 

“Oops!” He exclaims, the prince’s voice rising to a level of higpitched performance. “Oh, it looks like you caught me Haruhi!” Tamaki brings his hands together, clapping. “I followed you here so that I could carry your shopping basket.”

But Haruhi is trying to move around the president, a very urgent matter needing her attention. “Sorry, Tamaki-senpai, but I need you to move–”

The very, very tall man – seriously, Haruhi forgot how much taller Tamaki was –, blocks her path, still trying to make amends. “Now, now, Haruhi, hand it over.” Suoh reaches his hand out for her basket. “You know how Daddy likes accessories!” 

Finally, Haruhi pushes around him, but she sighs. 

You were gone. And she guessed you didn’t want to be found. 

Hanging her head, she looks to Tamaki, who is blushing from both ends of his ears, and the sight takes the edge off her mood. Gracefully, she hands him the basket, a small smile coming to her lips. “You’re so weird.”

Tamaki’s blush fades, and a more sincere grin paints his face. Then, he eyes the basket. 

“Haruhi, did you know that this was empty?”

Scoffing, she turns back to the vegetables, still looking over her shoulder to find a glance of your fleeting shadow. “Yeah, I just got preoccupied.”

She turns to him. “Plus, I haven’t figured out what to make everybody. We’ve never had this many people over before.”

Tamaki puts a long finger to his lips. “How about…a stew pot? One with lots of meat in it.” Then he has a thought. “And no chrysanthemum.” 

Her full attention is on Tamaki now, the way the mushrooms bob in his hair. “Yeah, that could work. It is kind of warm for it, though.”

She made it anyway. 

Soon the entire host club sits around her table. The boys feast, growing students needing at least enough fuel for a large animal. Or two. 

And as Ranka sets plenty of chrysanthemum onto Tamaki’s stew, Haruhi keeps catching awkward, soft glances between the two of you. She was so caught up in making lunch, or dinner at this point, that she hadn’t been able to clear anything up between you two. 

And her heart broke. 

You had saw that moment. That stupid, insignificant moment between her and the spectacled director and had assumed the complete wrong idea. But you were trying to be strong for her. 

She knew immediately that’s why you had been acting so intense and weird lately. Why you had ignored her the week prior. There was probably a storm of conflicting emotions in your mind, and in your heart, hot anger and cold disassociating swirling together to make a tornado of anxiety and hurt. 

She would fix it. She had too. 

But the real problem was whether or not you would give her the chance. 

Sharply, you stood up from the table, your portion of the stew still halfway filing your makeshift bowl. “My driver is here.” You explain sheepishly, feeling bad for having to leave early. “My parents come home tonight, and my mom wants me to be there to greet her.”

The Host Club bid you farewell, and Haruhi catches the sharp once over Kyoya gives you as you walk out the door. 

Then everyone else is leaving, to Haruhi’s gratitude. Her personal life had a maximum capacity, just like her living quarters, and her friends had unknowingly exceeded it. 

But as the boys begin to leave, with Ranka ushering them out the door and outside to bask in the attention they gave him, Haruhi pulls on Kyoya’s sleeve.

The lanky man turns, his dark eyebrow quirking up. “Ah, my teammate.” His cool voice brushes over the walls, and Haruhi has a second urge to shake someone. Specifically him, for being so stupid and impulsive. “Did you find something out?”

She doesn’t waste time. “(Y/n) knows.”

That quirked eyebrow sews together with the one adjacent. “I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“Kyoya-senpai, (Y/n) saw us that night on the beach. When you threw me on your bed like a lunatic.”

Kyoya’s jaw muscles spark. “That’s impossible, no one could’ve seen that.”

“(Y/n) did.” Haruhi insisted, swallowing the dread. “I guess she was trying to return your medkit, or whatever, and she saw us. And she thought–”

“She thought we were together.” Kyoya finishes, every dot connecting like a constellation in his mind. “That’s why she was asking about your love life, why she was complimenting you, putting you on a pedestal. She thinks that we are together, but that we are hiding it.”

The megane is frigid, still, but nothing about his energy is peaceful. He is calculating, putting together the entire equation. It’s like it’s finally all written out for him, the chalkboard littered with his work as his hands are dusty and cracked.

You were mad at him. Because you felt he lead you on. Because he nearly kissed you on the beach, and then was seen hovering over another, covered in satin. 

“Thank you, Haruhi.” His usually deep voice was rough as he stepped out the door. “You were very helpful.” 

With that, the Shadow King exits the Fujioka residence. 

Next Time on Lavender Roses!

“We didn’t know you had a little sister, Boss!”

“As of today, I will be your big brother!”

“So, how’re you gonna fix this?”

Big Brother is a Prince!

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[manias-wordcount]

May I please request (another) Tamaki Suou/reader fic? Can it be smutty...? 👀

I'd love to see how Tamaki spoils his wife/partner on their birthday. 🥰

AFAB/fem reader would be slay, but feel free to make it gender neutral if you'd prefer. Thank you so much for your time! ❤️

Princess Treatment (Tamaki Suoh x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗺! 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝗶𝘀, 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝗻𝗷𝗼𝘆!

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚!! 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗳𝗲𝗺 𝗿𝗲𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝘃𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

𝙗𝙪𝙮 𝙢𝙚 𝙖 𝙘𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚?

On the day of your birthday, you find yourself waking up earlier than you normally would have liked.

You supposed it was one part of anticipation for what was going to come throughout the day. Your husband loved to spoil you rotten- even before you two got married. Even before you two graduated high school. But even after years and years of being together, he still always manages to go above and beyond on your birthday. He would plan out the best days. He would find you the finest meals. And he would throw you the most lavish of parties. So perhaps that excitement that was buzzing around you in your sleep was in part, to blame for your early wake-up. Or maybe it was the condition of your bedroom.

The light was starting to peak through your blinds and lay themselves against your pillow by the time you found your eyes slowly starting to open. It was early- early in the morning, but you didn’t need a clock to tell you that. The softness of the sun’s beams clued you in plenty, alongside the tiny streaks of pink and orange that managed to squeeze their way into your bedroom. It made you feel at peace. At peace within the moment. At peace with your day. Just simply…at peace. Sort of. It also made you feel a little sensitive too. A little pent up and whiny- where not much for you to do or go to alleviate it. 

Although maybe that little fact has less to do with the sunrise that you were bearing witness to through the safety and sanctity of your bedroom’s closed blinds. In fact, maybe it has more to do with the fact that your husband has made himself very comfortable between your legs. Very, very comfortable you would even say. Very, very comfortable.

“Oh…Tamaki…” You find yourself murmuring the same two words over and over again. It’s all your mind can think to say at the moment. It’s all your mouth can form at the moment. Just soft, soft calls of your husband’s name as your fingers tangled themselves through his hair. And even softer sounds of pleasure as you will yourself to stay still and not scratch up his back and force him closer to you. “Oh..oh…Tama- Tamaki…”

But that’s harder said than done when there’s a tongue eagerly lapping at your clit.

It was his idea. His idea to start off your day early like this. His idea to practically wake you up with soft kisses to the insides of your thighs as he propped you up against your pillows and tugged your panties down your legs. His idea to lay down on his tongue before you and stick his tongue out just enough to test the waters- to test your sensitivity on this fine, fine, and morning. And of course, his idea to throw all caution to the wind and drive right in- shoving his face exactly where you need him to and go to town.

Now his tongue is doing every in its power to explore your pussy like it’s the first time it’s been there. One minute he’s wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard in an attempt to make you cry out in pleasure- loud enough that you fear that the staff may hear you and what exactly he’s doing to you a little too well. But the next minute, he’s flicking and dragging his tongue against the entire expanse of your pussy- reacquainting itself with the taste of your arousal. And the very, very next minute, he’s pushing his tongue past your lower lips and fucking you with it. Let you rock your hips and ride his face as much as you want. Or until he needs to come up for air. Whichever comes last.

“Does my birthday girl like her first present?” You hear him asking at one point after he had come up for air due to having his nose and tongue buried into your busy for a particularly long time. “Or does she need a little more of it?”

You let out a little whine at the thought of more. Of course, you want more. Of course, you want more of him! More of this! But you can’t deny the intensity makes your head spin, your body ache, and your hips buck in a way you once would have called totally unbefitting of a woman of your status. But now you know. Now you know that something like this has nothing to do with status or wealth. For this is just what happens when you’re with a husband who loves you. Especially, one that loves eating your pussy too. 

He had been going so fast and hard that you swear that he was trying to force an orgasm out of you far faster than you thought possible. It was only when he pulled away to fill his lungs with air did you found yourself releasing the breath you didn’t even know that you were holding. But despite the two of you being disheveled and off-balance, it was still Tamaki who recovered first. Thus it was Tamaki who did all the talking. In between the kitten-like licks to your clit as he took two of his fingers and slowly pumped in and out of your pussy, of course.

“I need an answer, princess,” You hear him try to coax a response out of you, causing you to whine pitifully as your body chooses to follow his fingers as they twirl around and scissor inside of you instead of his voice. Something that has him clicking his tongue in response, but not exactly pulling his fingers away from you either. “Do you think you can handle more? This is the only time I’ll have to myself today, you know.”

Although it’s hard for you to tell with your brain feeling almost as mixed up as your insides at the moment, you could have sworn he slipped into his old host-club persona for a moment there. Just a little bit. Just to get you a little more cooperative and responsive. But when you open your eyes and peer down at him, you can hardly imagine that this is the same boy that you met and fell in love with in high school.

Because the Tamaki you knew back then would have never looked at you with his beautiful, purple eyes filled with lust. The Tamaki you knew back then wouldn’t have woken you up before your alarm just to wrap his lips around your clit and occasionally pump you full of his fingers in a way that has your tongues curling and your mouth drooling a little more than you would have cared to admit. And perhaps most of all, the Tamaki knew back then wouldn’t have done all this and more while pocketing the very panties he had stolen off of you- storing them away for himself to indulge in later. Perhaps even later today, when he can no longer have you all to himself. But then again…

The Tamaki that you know likes to spoil you. He always has. He always will. 

“M-more, please Tamaki… I want more…”

So is he really all that different? Is he really all that different from the boy you met in high school? Is he really all that different from the boy who used to spoil you rotten back then? Is he really all that different from the boy who used to give you the princess treatment even more than he did for all the other girls who had their eyes on him. Or maybe…just maybe….

“Good girl.”

Or maybe he just grew up and grew stronger in his feelings and power, all because of you?

[little-chimchim]

Hey guys! Got a new KyoHaru fix in the works ❤️

[cynoswifey]

Tamaki Souh x reader Headcanons

AN: This girl in my band class has been pissing me off recently but eh whatever. Tamaki (and cyno)>>>>

Warnings: None >:)

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°

° He's clingy but not as overwhelming as the twins. Whenever he has the chance he's holding your hand

• when he's with the host club customers he's usually the biggest flirt but with you has more romantic of course there is the occasional flirty comment. Tamaki is of course a gentleman but he still teases you from time to time.

° If you're shorter than him Tamaki would rest his head on yours or if you are short enough his arm.

• Tamaki is whipped like man would do anything that you told him to do

° Hmm since he's the prince type he'd of course call you his princess/prince. He also might call you darling or my love. He likes to think you both are a monarchy

• Whenever he gets jealous, he'd get loud. Especially if its the twins, he'd scream for Kouya and be all dramatic

° Don't get me started on Tamaki being dramatic. If he goes in for a kiss, hug, or says I love you, but you don't respond or dodge it, all of his dramatic self would come out, and he'd act like he's a fucking Novela

• Tamaki loves cuddles before falling asleep. He also loves talking about each other day when cuddling

° In the mornings he loves doing your hair for you and he's actually really easy to wake up but he usually wakes up with you.

• He is a huge goofball but he will be serious when you need him to be

° He loves showing you off to everyone cause he just thinks your the most beautiful and amazing person ever

• If you love any plushes, he'd let you keep them on the bed. He thinks it's cute that his s/o loves plushes. He'd even buy you more to add to your collection. He also always gives you flowers with them to

° He makes sure that you eat during lunch even if you say your not hungry he'd buy you a snack to make sure you ate and if your hungry during class he'd somehow pull out food from his school bag

^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°•^°

Reblogs, likes, and ask are appreicated.

Thank you!!!

[nekorenge]

Let’s talk about the Dorama/Ouran Live Action TV Series !! (Nekozawa/Renge)

You may be asking why I decided to delve into this adaptation of Ouran tonight.

Why did I? Because it is the host (no pun intended) of another important piece of Nekozawa/Renge ship content. When you don’t have much to work from in the vein of interactions, every interaction matters, but this one ESPECIALLY does, because ….

…Renge canonically finds Nekozawa attractive!

Or at least, in the world of this one adaptation. But there’s no reason to think any differently for the other versions. Anyway.

If you go to Nekozawa’s character wiki, he has a section on his relationship with Renge. Of course, it lists out their interactions in Big Brother is a Prince, and then it mentions the dorama for this one interaction. This is where i had first found out about this, years ago.

Because I’m a nerd, let’s go step-by-step in this interaction to talk about it.

1. This takes place in Renge’s debut episode, so she’s directing the Host Club here. Tamaki asks her how his performance is, and if he should create more “shadows”. I’m including this bit for scene context and also because it confirms that there is a parallel to be drawn between Renge’s fascination with adding “dark side”s to characters and Nekozawa’s general association with shadows, darkness, dark sides, etc. I thought I was reaching before, but by including Nekozawa with this setup, I think my connection now holds more weight!

2. See! Nekozawa materializes out of nowhere behind Tamaki, and Nekozawa continues the “shadows” talk. He has a creepy filter over his voice and fitting music, fully engulfed in his persona/probably liking antagonizing the frightened Tamaki. He asks Tamaki to join his dark side and Tamaki runs away.

3. Here’s where it gets interesting!! Renge approaches Nekozawa, slowly, and she almost seems curious. Nekozawa’s creepy music is still fading out and his grin is likely in part still leftover from the last interaction.

4. Her smile as she says this!! She didn’t have to say this, and it all is so out of left field. She just curiously walks right up to the guy who just materialized out of the shadows and frightened away Tamaki and says he’s good looking. What!!

5. That’s what I just said! What?? But okay, let’s analyze this. His spooooky mannerisms have completely fallen away in this moment. No music, no voice filters, no evil laugh, he has nothing except “what?” His smile has fallen but he looks intrigued, if i had to describe it. He looks surprised but not in a bad way, it seems like it’s something pleasant that has blindsided him. He’s leaned into her, looking straight into her eyes, and he is both shaken out of the persona he is so used to keeping up and intrigued all at once.

6. There’s a pause where he’s still smiling, looking at her, still leaned into each other, silent as she reaches to remove his hood. To me, i dont think he even notices she’s removing his hood until the sun beams down on him. Why? Was he distracted? :O

And when he realizes, he screams and covers his head. She looks away in fear/surprise.

7. Now that they’ve been shaken out of the moment, he’s back to his usual self. After saying this he books it out of the scene. This is 100% my biased read on this but… wouldnt it be POSSIBLE… that he’s mad not only because she removed his hood, but because she had him so off-guard in the moment that he hadn’t even noticed? Is he mad at himself for being stunned in the moment, and leaves in a huff from that?

And Renge says nothing. Renge? Nothing?? How?? Literally, Nekozawa leaves the scene and then Renge doesn’t even acknowledge what just happened. Is she just as thrown off? Who’s to say!

Anyway that’s all, thank you for reading if you did. I’m so glad to have actually finally watched this scene. (Also, this is all very “phantom of the opera”, isn’t it? Interesting interesting.)

[eurydicees]

me sitting by you, sitting without seeing me 

summary: when tamaki gets to japan, this is his first mistake: greeting his father. prompt: music recs, any human friend (album), for @selkiecoded pairings: tamaki suoh/kyoya ootori words: 1877 warnings: homophobia, mentions of canon-typical abuse and racism notes: a mix of manga and anime canon is used! i mostly used inspiration from the song "i'm not where you are" off of this album. ty for the rec i really enjoyed it!!

When Tamaki gets to Japan, this is his first mistake: greeting his father. 

It’s a stupid mistake. He knows it’s a stupid mistake. He knows better than to say what he did. He didn’t use the correct level of formality when he spoke to his father in Japanese, and it got him first a slightly disapproving frown from his father and then, from his grandmother, a scoff and a dismissal. She waves her hand at him and says, “You’ll know better than to address me, at least, so informally, I expect.” 

The shame colors his cheeks, heats up his insides, sending him spiraling back to France. He’s been in Japan and with his family for five minutes and already fucked up. He takes a deep breath and says, “Yes, Grandmother. It’s good to see you,” as formally as he remembers how, and then bows. 

She scoffs again, and then turns around and walks away. This is the first of many times that he will disappoint her. Or, this is just the latest of times in the string of times he’s disappointed her just by virtue of being born. Which wasn’t his fault, but it’s hard to feel like it isn’t his problem. 

Tamaki is led to his room in the second Suoh mansion, where he unpacks his few things, sets his photo of his mother on a shelf, and then lies down in the bed and stares up at the ceiling. He doesn’t hate Japan. He doesn’t. It’s just that he doesn’t fit. 

This is not the last time he will feel like this. The next time is when he goes to dinner, and he greets the maid on his way to the dining room in search of the meal. He just says hello, and he bows, because he’s pretty sure that’s what you’re supposed to do when you meet people for the first time, and she stutters something that sounds like “Oh, oh, oh, oh,” and then she stumbles around a corner and turns away. 

It’s a little strange, but maybe she was just nervous meeting someone new, and so he doesn’t think much of it until he greets the cook who serves him and he does the same thing. It’s not until he talks to the head of the servants that he’s finally told that that’s just not how things work around here. The servants are not his friends. They are to be treated with respect, but they aren’t there to talk to him or spend time around him. 

Oh, is all that he can think. He doesn’t know how he feels about that. On one hand, he knows that that’s the nature of their job and of his position. On the other hand, he believes every human being deserves a hello and a good morning and a note of respect in his voice. 

But he’ll go with this for now. He’s desperate to be what he’s expected to be. He’s been set adrift in Japan and he’s clinging to every lifeline he can grasp at; he’s clinging tight to the things he knows to be true and the things he’s told he’s wrong about. The problem is just that it seems that he’s wrong about everything. 

As he comes to understand the world and culture and language and customs a little better, it becomes quickly apparent that his father hasn’t told the truth about everything. In all their conversations about Japan, there are so many things he hadn’t mentioned and even more things that he said that are outright untrue. The fact that his father lied to him about so many things doesn’t sit well in his stomach. But he’s also not brave enough to confront him about it, to ask why he would do that to him, to wonder aloud if he meant so little as to lie about his own heritage, and so he just lives with his new and corrected knowledge.

It’s Kyoya, really, who tells him the truth. Kyoya, who never fails to tell him when he’s wrong. Kyoya, who doesn’t hold back anymore. Kyoya, who reminds him to sleep before dreaming but then builds his dreams anyways.

But even with Kyoya, there’s a disconnect that bothers Tamaki. There’s a kind of broken piece between them: if they were each one half of a puzzle, there would be a single piece in the middle that had fallen by the wayside, never to be found again. There’s a kind of crack in the floor they stand on that represents a canyon that he cannot cross, but that he must leap over before he fully understands what it means to live in Japan, to be Japanese, to be half, to be everything that he is and wants to be and is supposed to be. 

“I could be a preschool teacher,” he tells Kyoya once. 

“As if your father would let that happen,” Kyoya replied. 

He’s right, he’s always right, but it’s still a wake up call that Tamaki didn’t really want. He knows that there are things expected of him. He knows that who he is now is not enough for anyone—for his family. 

He knows that who he will be is a shape molded years upon years ago, when it became clear he was the only heir and the weight of the Suoh family was put on his shoulders. Or, when it became clear he was the only heir and the weight of being good enough to call himself Suoh was made into a quest, an obstacle, a fight to the death. 

It’s strange. He loves who he is. He wants to love who he will be. He doesn’t know how. 

He also doesn’t know how to get there—to the future. He doesn’t know how to become what he needs to be. There are too many things in his childlike wonder that Tamaki doesn’t want to let go of. Love is a tool, a weapon, a shield, and he wields it strong and careful with both hands. 

Love is also unwelcome. This is something he learns early on in his life in Japan. 

This is something he learns when his grandmother calls him a disgraceful bastard. This is something he learns when a girl at school gives him a strange look and then calls him a halfer; just a brief, throwaway comment to her, but to Tamaki it is a prick of a needle popping his heart. This is also something he learns later, when he kisses Kyoya, and he gets caught. 

They are seventeen. They are sitting in Music Room 3, and everyone is supposed to be gone for the day. They were supposed to be alone for hours, talking about the club and life and the future and all of the things that they speak about when no one else is there to listen. 

But Haruhi forgot her phone—she’s ridiculously lax about the care and upkeep of the thing, mostly because she didn’t want it in the first place—and she had come back for it. She had hesitated at the door when she saw how close they were sitting to each other. Maybe she was curious. Maybe something in her gut just told her to stop, to stand at a crack in the door that neither had noticed, and wait. 

Either way, she stands there and watches as Tamaki puts his hand to Kyoya’s cheek and presses a tender kiss to his lips and then pulls away with a smile. Kyoya has that light pink color at his cheeks that he gets when they kiss, something Tamaki has teased him to no end about, and he looks so eiderdown-soft and rose-red-in-love that Tamaki kisses him again. 

They were supposed to be alone. 

And here’s the thing: they know that none of their close friends would care if they were together. Most of them probably have some kind of inkling that they’re together already, and none of them have ever once made a comment about it. 

They’ve been dating for almost a year now, and while they’re not blatantly obvious or advertising their relationship status, it’s also clear in the way they look at each other. Tamaki has always been expressive in everything he does, and loving Kyoya is no different. He doesn’t say it out loud to anyone else, but if you look closely at his searching eyes, you’ll notice that they always come back to Kyoya eventually. 

Still, it’s not something that they’re allowed to have. This—in love—is not who they are supposed to be. This—together—is not who they are expected to be. There is something evil in Tamaki that wants Kyoya and doesn’t care what his father thinks. There is something disgusting in Tamaki that craves Kyoya’s touch and doesn’t give a shit that his grandmother might disown him for real this time. There is something horrible and terrible and brave in Tamaki that chooses to love Kyoya in spite of the world. 

But there is also something scared in him that is not ready for the rest of the world to see it. There is something in him that does not want Haruhi to understand this part of them. There is something in him that doesn’t want to share. 

Because, really, at the end of the day, here is what it comes down to: there is the world and the universe and everyone in it, and then there is Tamaki. There is Tamaki, on the other side of the glass, reading DO NOT TAP GLASS backwards. There is Tamaki, distant and drifting and untethered from the rest of the world. From Haruhi and the hosts and even, sometimes, from Kyoya. 

There is something in him that is still a fourteen year old child messing up the grammar of his second language and reeling from his grandmother’s hatred. There is something in him that is still a fifteen year old boy falling in love and terrified of the consequences for having a feeling. There is something in him that is still a sixteen year old watching his best friend, slapped by his father because of a dream they shared. 

There is the world and its intricacies, and then there is Tamaki and his eccentricities. There is the world and its beauty, and then there is Tamaki and his monstrosity. As the earth spins forward, advancing around the sun, instead of being carried along with it, he’s left behind in the riptide: losing his family, losing his first love, losing his mind, losing his heart. 

“Haruhi,” Kyoya says, staring at her. 

“Hi,” she says. 

“Please—” Tamaki starts, then cuts himself off. 

Haruhi just nods. Maybe she understands. Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe Tamaki’s side of Tamaki vs. The World is expanding. Maybe it’s not. Maybe she just doesn’t know what else there is to say. Maybe she’s just letting this slip through her fingers without making a big deal out of it, in the same way as she lets go of so many things. 

But maybe it doesn’t matter either way, if she cares or doesn’t care. Maybe it doesn’t matter if the fight is him against the world or him and Kyoya and his friends against the world. Maybe what matters is that there’s a fight in the first place, and that he is losing it.