synopsis: what the host club is like when they’re jealous
characters included: tamaki, kyoya, haruhi, hikaru, kaoru, honey & mori
notes: i just wanna say thank you sm for the support on the insta posts! reading all your comments & reposts made me so happy >.<
𐙚 tamaki suoh - loud and proud
this man is not afraid to show (both verbally and physically) how badly he wants you all to himself. he does not care about showing his jealous side, he has zero shame. as soon as he sees anyone show attraction towards you, he has to break it up immediately.
one time you were standing outside music room 3 and tamaki was patiently waiting for you, except he wasn’t being patient at all and he was getting really fidgety whilst he waited for you. he took matters into his own hands dramatically declaring to the rest of the host club that he will find you, tell you off as you are very late (you were one minute behind schedule) & he will bring you back pronto. he slams open the music room doors which lead him to a terrible scene worse than a crime scene - a young man was talking to you…! he wasn’t just talking, he was caressing your arm lightly, oh the horror! tamaki screeched at the sight causing both you and this young man to turn but as you both turned, tamaki was already at your side within a split second. he gripped your shoulders and smiled almost manically at this young man you were talking to “oh, i’m terribly sorry to disrupt your clearly very intriguing conversation but, y/n is late for an appointment with moi.” he flicks his luscious blonde locks causing a sparkle to appear, how does he do that? it’s like he’s a cartoon. you couldn’t even give a simple goodbye to this young man before being dragged away and berated by tamaki for your tardiness. as you reach the door of music room 3, he quickly forgives you “—but, y/n, as i am a graceful and understanding man, i will forgive you my darling. lets get a pot of tea, hm?” you can’t help but chuckle at his foolishness.
𐙚 kyoya ootori - cold and calculated
this man isn’t stupid, he knows that he feels jealous over you sometimes however, he’s not like tamaki, he can’t openly admit to it. so, he takes matters into his own hands and do what kyoya does best - strategically plan something to go exactly the way he wants it to without any connections leading back to him.
not only did you frequent the host club and become close with the members but, you were also in kyoya’s class so, you were around each other a lot. however, kyoya had started to notice you were talking less to him and tamaki and more to some other guy. tamaki would constantly tease kyoya as he often caught him sending dirty looks and glares to both you and the random boy as you chatted away, laughing and such. kyoya always brushed tamaki off saying “i just don’t want to lose a good customer.” while that was partly true, he’s a businessman after all, he also didn’t want to lose you. not as a customer, just you. he clears time in his schedule to start making a revenge plan, he hires everyone in the host club to partake in his plan still claiming it to be for “customer/money-making reasons” and everyone saw right through him but, it’s kyoya. nobody’s gonna question him!
thus commences his plan which consisted of just keeping you two apart. somehow distracting you during class, or distracting him, or dragging you off during lunch to help with this that or the other. but, kyoya didn’t leave this boy emptied handed, no no, he replaced you with a girl. you’d be dragged somewhere and plonk, a girl in your place. kyoya knew this boy was romantically interested in you and as the distractions pulled you two apart, it pulled together him and this other girl. he started to move his romantic intentions from you to her. this boy gradually stopped trying to find you and talk to you, to kyoya’s delight. you briefly mentioned it to the host club one day, not realising it was romantic and feeling a bit upset that you’d lost who thought was a friend. kyoya felt a bit bad sure but, he saved you. you’ll never know he did but, he did and that’s enough for him. he does smirk a bit as you tell the short story and replies with a cocky “what a shame.”
𐙚 haruhi fujioka - confused and indifferent
haruhi may be incredibly intelligent but she is not one for social intelligence, let alone romantic intelligence. she’s confused as to why she even feels jealous in the first place & it makes her feel weird. she gets a pit in her stomach every time she even sees you brush someone else’s shoulder and she hates it. she just thinks it’s plain silly to be jealous because you’re not even together!
the twins have been paying a lot of attention to you lately, and usually you’d sit and talk with haruhi but as the twins continue to bug you, you give in and eventually start conversing with them more and more until you’re with them more than haruhi. you don’t flat out ignore haruhi, of course not, but she just feels this pit in her stomach and a stabbing pain in her chest as she watches you from a distance, chatting and laughing with the twins. she really tries her best to ignore this feeling, so much so that even when you do talk to her, she ends up acting indifferent toward you. the conversations between the two of you are shorter, filled with more awkward silences than either of you would like. haruhi notices this and knows this is happening because of her foolish jealously but, she genuinely can’t help it! she’s really trying to both ignore this ever growing jealously and still try to act normal around you but it seems impossible. you’re obviously upset thinking that haruhi doesn’t like you anymore, for whatever reason & the whole host club notices these changes. overall, its an extremely messy situation that will probably be resolved through an extremely thorough, detailed plan made by tamaki suoh himself.
𐙚 hikaru hitachiin - quiet and cold
he’s such an aggravating jealous type, he becomes extremely quiet and not the quiet where you feel sad the type of quiet where when you walk into a room, you can feel the anger radiating off the person. the whole host club and especially kaoru are in fear, quite frankly. they need to nip this in the bud asap. not only is he terribly quiet, he’s also incredibly cold specifically toward you! the host club can’t help but cringe as you try your best to interact with hikaru.
he had seen you getting as he’d describe ‘cosy’ with someone this morning outside of the school gates, and it made him so freaking jealous. why wasn’t he that cosy with you? you never hugged him goodbye or laughed so hard at his jokes that you slapped his arm. he was so upset. from 8am this morning, everyone had to face his wrath. he was quiet all day, only answering with snappy short answers. he barely ate at lunch even though his favourite dishes were included and then came the host club. he tried his best to keep up with the ‘brotherly love’ dynamic but found it difficult as that image of you with that person just kept circling in his mind constantly. all the clients that day noticed his change in demeanour and kyoya was not happy to see their clients upset or leaving early - hikarus personal issues were causing harm to the business! before kyoya could storm over there and stop this nonsense himself, you walked in. its like the whole room secretly knew where hikarus problem lies because everyone fell silent. you gulped nervously, why did everyone suddenly stop? as you made your way over to the twins, kaoru looked relived to see you while hikaru didn’t look at you at all. kaoru excitedly poured you a cup of tea as you sat down slowly still staring at hikaru, silently begging him to look at you. but, your silent pleas didn’t work. he would only take small glances at you, just to turn his nose up and turn his head away again. oh, the drama. you and kaoru awkwardly conversed, both of you tried your best to get hikaru involved but, he refused. although, he did make a sly comment or two. after some conversing you mention that your cousin had dropped you to school this morning, your cousin from a foreign country. hikarus interest had piqued “wait… cousin…?” he thought to himself. the whole host club and clients included all face palmed hearing this, hikaru had over exaggerated. once again.
𐙚 kaoru hitachiin - sad and nonchalant
kaoru may be mischievous and cheeky like his older twin but, they are different in some aspects and one being when it comes to love. kaoru would never dream of making his jealously yours or anyone else’s problem.
when he saw you getting friendly with your seat partner in class, it greatly saddened him. you two used to sit beside each other (hikaru on his other side, of course) but you got moved after an exchange student joined the class and you were the only one who spoke english well enough to help them. at first, you were just a nice classmate but as the weeks went by, you two would spend more time together, talk about other things other than school and laugh together and to make it worse, kaoru barely knew what you were even talking about because you were conversing in english! he accepts his fate and thinks that you’re in love with this exchange student and that’s it for him and the idea of ever being with you - but, as long as you’re happy, he’s happy. kaoru is so mature when it comes to this, he doesn’t interfere or ask the host club to come up with an elaborate plan or anything of the sort. although, it’s hard for him to hide his sadness especially around you. you still visit the host club often and try your best to talk to kaoru as you still think your friends but, he goes extremely quiet, only giving you short or one word answers. it makes you sad that he seems so off with you and you can’t even ignore the signs because every time you try to spend time with him he comes up with some excuse to not be around you. in his mind, it’s the best way to be so he doesn’t get in your way.
some time passes, and you decide to bring it up to him (when you finally catch him alone), you beg to know what’s the matter and after a lot of refusal, kaoru finally cracks and tells you everything he has been feeling. you blush at the thought of the kaoru hitachiin getting jealous over you! safe to say that by your next lesson, you request to move back to your original seat, right next to kaoru.
𐙚 mitsukuni haninozuka - melancholy and mature
honey is obviously known for his boy lolita character, he may act aloof but he is eighteen and just because he’s super cute doesn’t mean he’s not incredibly emotionally intelligent both when it comes to himself and others. he is the second most chill host club member at least when it comes to jealously.
you were honeys regular (and favourite but, don’t tell the other clients that) however, to his dismay, you had been coming less and less for the last two weeks. he was upset by this and asked around the host club wondering if they had seen you around and indeed they had… with another man! gasp! you were seemingly canoodling with some guy from your year group and oh, poor honey was so upset. you were his favourite for a reason and now you’re gone! however, he doesn’t let this get in the way of his life. he will absolutely have a cry in his room or to mori whilst eating a buttload of cake (like even more than usual) for about a week or so to help get rid of these negative emotions. however, when he’s doing his host club thing he can’t help but think about you in the back of his mind even though he’s supposed to be ‘recovered’.
after about another two weeks or so, honey is pretty much over it. but, all his hard work to get to this point is almost completely shattered because you walked into the host club! you swing your head around until your eyes land on honey and you run toward him immediately, desperate to explain your situation. honeys face drops into a pout at your arrival, he just got over you, why did you have to come back?! you interrupt his session with some other girls and start to explain yourself, the boy you were with was a marriage suitor arranged by your parents but, it fell through! you were free from the grasp of arranged marriage and ready to be honeys favourite client again. honey is absolutely overjoyed to hear this and tackles you with a hug, feeling a bit embarrassed that he let his jealously get to him so much. he ate a lot cake for that week where he was sad. like a lot, he had several cavities after.
𐙚 takashi morinozuka - quiet and and calm, duh
okay, i know this is hard to imagine but mori is even more quiet when he’s jealous. he’s completely calm and to the average person, he may seem like the same old mori but, to the trained eye he is far from normal.
the host club could feel something was wrong, just by the air in the room and honey quickly informed them that mori was being quiet and everyone was like “well, duh.” but honey had to explain that it ran deeper than that, he was jealous. the host club gasped, over what!? or who!? over you, that’s who. he had been silently tending to the animals and insects he had made friends with in the ouran academy gardens when he saw you gracefully wandering through the rose bushes and you weren’t alone, you were with a second year who had been known for being a mori lookalike. they were both tall, lanky, nonchalant and incredibly handsome. mori’s face stayed stoic as he watched you both, his animal friends still at his side comforting him - had been replaced? by a lookalike?! why would you want a lookalike when you had the original? this whole ordeal made him very upset, not to the point where was ripping his hair out in anguish but, he was upset. honey realised it especially, he was extra quiet and extra stoic even if nobody else noticed a difference. however, these negative emotions actually aided mori in his kendo! he was able to blow off a lot of steam and perform even more powerful moves than usual, which made him a little bit happier.
honey, who had to deal with this sad mori constantly, had enough and decided to confront you. it was difficult to get mori off his back because i mean it’s honey and mori but also, mori was more clingy lately (due to his jealous outburst) but honey found a way. honey was quick to find you and confronted you quite bluntly, you were shocked to hear this explaining that the second year wanted a tour of the garden as you were the leader of the gardening club, you didn’t believe it to be romantic! and that’s when it all starts adding up, mori lookalike… what’s another way to be more like mori…? go after the person he likes! god, you feel like a fool. before honey can make his great escape back to mori, mori finds honey himself. before mori can snatch honey and make a dramatic exit, you apologise and explain what’s happened. god, now mori feels like a fool too.
You don't have to but can you do the Hosts (from OHSHC) but not Haruhi when they find out their crush (female if you may) is being teased by their admirers because they're often together?
Ouran HighSchool Host Club ~Finding out their crush is being bullied by their fans~
Manga/anime: Ouran HighSchool Host Club
Warnings: nothing
(Y/N): your name
(S/O): significant other
Premise
S/O is walking calmly in the garden of Ouran HighSchool, enjoying the light breeze which ruffles his hair.
However, sounds of sobbing suddenly distracts him from the peace he was feeling: (Y/N), the girl he's madly in love with, is crying in a remote corner, with her clothes torn and her hair messed up.
S. Tamaki
He'll immediately run to you, shocked
When he finds out his fans have reduced you like that, he'll be shocked and furious: not only the girl he loves is destroyed, both physically and mentally, but she's so also due to him
Nevertheless, what will shock you the most will be the fact he'll be very quiet
It'll probably take him several days to find a solution, and he'll ask the other Hosts what to do (especially Haruhi, as she's a girl)
After a week of reflection, he'll make an announcement in front of all his fans: "I'm very flattered by your love, but what you did to my friend -he'll be tempted to say girlfriend- is unacceptable. If something like this happens again, we'll be forced to close our Host Club."
O. Kyoya
He'll probably be the one who will react coldest, but that doesn't mean he'll be less affected than the others
He'll sit next to you and give you a handkerchief to dry your tears in a rather cold way even if he'll be suffering inside
Then, he'll help you to go to wash your face, and he'll give you his clothes to change you
It'll then seem he won't take action, but in reality he'll threaten write to all his fans involved
From that day on, he'll stay closer to you in school's corridors and always accompany you home and to school to prevent something like that from happening again
H. Hikaru
He won't have the best reaction: as soon as he notices how reduced you are, he'll almost snap, and he'll almost lose his mind and freak out when he finds out he's the cause of what happened to you
In fact, he'll probably increase your crying, and he'll feel terribly bad about it
However, after about ten minutes he'll calm down, taking a deep breath, and hold you in his arms, rubbing your back and murmuring some apology to you
He'll ask his brother and Kyoya for help to find out who did that to you and Tamaki to chase everyone involved out of school
If Tamaki can't do it, he'll always be close to you, even going so far as to let you stay with him when he's at the Host Club
H. Kaoru
His first thought will be to calm you down: he won't care why you're crying, he'll just hug you tightly
After calming you down, he'll try to convince you to tell him who did that to you
When you tell him that, he'll freeze for a moment, but he'll soon recover and come back to hold you tighter than before, telling you how brave and strong you are, but also to come to him if it happens again
He'll ask his brother to help him to protect you: from then on, Kaoru will stay close to you like a bodyguard whenever he can, Hikaru will watch you from afar when his twin can't be close to you
He'll also make a promise to himself, that's never to let anyone hurt you like that again
H. Mitsukuni (Honey)
He'll immediately run towards you, hugging you tightly
When he finds out those who did that to you are his fans, his face will darken, and he'll break your embrace, give you Usa-chan and run away to those responsible for your situation
After arriving at his fans, he'll tell them to leave you alone, appearing calm on the outside and behaving as usual, but seething with anger on the inside
After this, he'll return to you to take Usa-chan back and whisper compliments to you, so that you won't think about the words of your attackers
He won't let any more unpleasant things happen to you, because he's sweet and kind, but if someone he loves gets hurt by someone...
M. Takashi (Mori)
At first he won't know how to react, so he'll stare at you for a few seconds and then give you some embarrassing pats on the head
"Y/N." "…Yes?" "What's wrong?"
After you explain what happened, he'll nod and awkwardly wrap his arm around you protectively
The next day (he'll have had to go to ask the other Hosts for advice and their approval on what he intends to do) he'll go to his fans and tell them to leave you alone
He won't care what happens next or if they're no longer his fans: for him the important thing is your happiness and security
Hii can you please do a Honey senpai x reader hc? Ty have a good day
Honey Senpai x Reader Headcanons!!
One of the best boyfriends out there!
Loves you more than he loves sweets, and that’s saying a lot!
His dates usually consists of going to sweet shops, malls, and the occasional karate tournament!
Buys you cute accessories and plushies for you to have when he isn’t around! (They’re, like, hella expensive discontinued stuff, but he’s rich so—)
Loves baking with you! Even if neither of you can cook for shit, he loves the experience! You guys try out new recipes every few weeks!
Even if you’re taller than him (which you probably are), he can still pull you down to his level to kiss you on the cheek.
Play fights as affection, he wins every time, no matter what the size difference is.
But he always makes sure you’re okay and he didn’t hurt you!
Definitely buys cute outfits just for you and him to match! He loves wearing those types of clothes on outings with you!
So sweet, your parents fell in love with him immediately. He’s so kind and rich, they practically dragged you to another room and told you “do NOT fuck this up—“
A/N: Thanks for requesting some headcanons! I hope you like them! Please feel free to request again! I love to hear your comments!
The kendo club was buzzing with energy as Y/N approached, clutching Mori’s forgotten notebook in her hand. She’d volunteered to bring it to him as an excuse to see him before their next class, but now that she was actually here, a hint of nervousness crept in. The faint sounds of wooden practice swords clashing mixed with laughter and loud chatter from the nearby track team warming up. The club room’s open doors allowed a rush of fresh winter air inside, bringing with it the familiar scents of the gym—slightly musty, mixed with wood and leather.
The kendo club was unusually lively today. Members were practicing in pairs, while others lingered by the benches, chatting and sharing snacks. Y/N noticed Mori instantly—he stood near the back, talking quietly with another member, his figure strong and grounded amidst the more animated crowd. Even from afar, he held an unshakeable calm, the kind of steady confidence that made him look perfectly at ease among the energy of his teammates.
One of Mori’s friends spotted her and grinned knowingly, nudging another member. “Hey, isn’t that Mori’s girl?” he whispered, a little too loudly, causing Y/N’s cheeks to flare red.
“Shut up,” another teammate replied, elbowing him. “Don’t embarrass her, she’s here for a reason.”
She took a steadying breath, then walked toward Mori, weaving her way past the chatting members and sparring pairs. She was nearly at the back of the room when Mori finally looked up, his gaze softening as he noticed her approaching. He inclined his head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. She couldn’t help but feel like everything around them faded a little.
“Y/N,” he greeted, his voice gentle but audible enough to cut through the noise. He took a step forward, shielding her from the bustling activity around them, creating an almost private bubble between them. His presence had a way of grounding her, calming her nerves even as her heart raced.
“Oh! Hi, Mori,” she stammered, immediately feeling her usual confident demeanor slipping away. “I… uh, I have your notebook. You left it behind in class.” She held it out, her fingers trembling slightly.
He accepted it, his fingers brushing against hers briefly. “Thank you. I would have missed it,” he said, his tone steady. His quiet gaze was fixed on her, and in that moment, the noise around them seemed to dim, the world shrinking down to just the two of them.
Before she could respond, a few of Mori’s teammates came over, waving at her cheerfully. One of them—a friend named Ryo—clapped Mori on the shoulder with a grin. “Wow, Y/N! You’ve saved Mori from another crisis, huh?”
Y/N laughed, her usual bubbly self peeking through. “Well, somebody has to look out for him!”
Another teammate chimed in, teasingly, “Hey, Mori, maybe you should leave stuff behind more often if it means Y/N will drop by. She livens up the place!”
Mori’s normally stoic expression softened slightly, a faint glimmer of amusement in his eyes as he listened to the banter. He didn’t say much, but the slight shift in his posture suggested he was relaxed and at ease, his usual reserved self letting down a guard he rarely showed anyone else.
Y/N shifted a bit, trying not to let her flustered smile turn into an awkward giggle. “I wouldn’t want him to forget anything important,” she replied, earning more laughs from the group. The noise and chatter around them made the moment feel normal and casual, though the spark between her and Mori was unmistakable.
Finally, Mori’s attention settled back on her, his gaze making her feel like she was the only one in the room. “Thank you again, Y/N. Really.” His tone was softer now, and for a brief moment, she forgot everyone else was there.
Realizing she might be overstaying her welcome, she cleared her throat. “Well, I should probably let you get back to practice,” she mumbled, her cheeks warming. She made a move to turn, but Mori took a small step forward, matching her pace and walking beside her toward the door.
A teammate raised an eyebrow, watching them with mild surprise. “Mori, leaving practice early?” he teased, but Mori didn’t respond, his focus entirely on her.
The two of them walked to the entrance in comfortable silence, and as they reached the door, Y/N turned to say a final goodbye. Mori held her gaze, and without another word, he leaned in, brushing a soft, warm kiss against her cheek.
Y/N’s eyes widened, her breath catching as he pulled back. She hadn’t expected that, not here in front of everyone, and especially not from him. Yet he looked completely unbothered, the hint of a smile still lingering as he stepped back.
A few teammates nearby saw the kiss, and their reactions ranged from shocked whispers to knowing smiles. A friend nearby chuckled, nudging his buddy. “Looks like Mori isn’t as reserved as we thought.”
Feeling her face heating up, Y/N stammered, “I… I’ll see you in class tomorrow!” She quickly turned, practically skipping out of the club room, her hand pressed to her cheek as if she could keep his warmth there a little longer.
As she walked down the hall, a huge grin spread across her face, her heart still fluttering with the memory of Mori’s quiet affection. Even though he’d barely said a word, his actions had spoken volumes, and she knew that was his way of showing her just how much she meant to him.
Back in the club room, Mori’s teammates surrounded him, grinning and asking questions about what had just happened. But he only gave them a calm smile, shrugging nonchalantly. His silent, affectionate gesture spoke volumes, and as he returned to practice, that small, quiet smile lingered on his face, visible only to those who truly knew him.
He sleeps with his teddy bear Kuma-chan every night and can't sleep peacefully without it
If he's cuddling with someone it has to be directly between the person and him (or on his chest) with one hand on it
Antoinette/Hachibei sleeps on his bed every night despite protests from Shima
He still plays house with kyoya and the rest of the club but he always has to be the dad or else it becomes a soap opera
Everyone gets really into it and one of the twins always ends up dramatically pregnant
They made tamaki a secret drug dealer one time and a yakuza another and both times he went to his ramen corner
He has several "secret" stashes of commoners ramen in both the club room and his bedroom
He has a French accent
He's unbelievably clingy like texts every five minutes and if you don't respond in thirty he thinks everyone hates him
He gives his partner as many French pet names as humanly possible
nsfw
He lasts for maybe five minutes on a good day
Even shorter if he's as obsessed as he's known to be in relationships
Longer if he's bottoming because there's less pressure
He will 100 percent call his partner mommy/daddy and will insist on being called daddy if he's topping
BOTTOM THIS BOY IS A PILLOW PRINCESS THROUGH AND THROUGH
On the rare occasion that he does top he will need guidance to last a decently long time please be patient with him
He's so loud 😭 this man is hootin and hollerin if there's no noise complaints assume the neighbours have been paid off
He has a habit of dry humping and doesn't realise half the time
Like on the semi rare occasion that he's the big spoon he'll just out of nowhere start subtly grinding
GET THE STRAP
He gives really good after care
Like room service regardless if you're in a house or hotel, bath already prepared, warm wash cloth, new sheets, movies, anything you could ever want or need
He slips into French CONSTANTLY
This man eats cooch like he's been stuck in the desert for a year and his life depends on it he DEVOURS
Hey! I love your writing so much, especially lavender roses! I was wondering if you could write a Host Club x reader who has a lot of random hobbies (woodworking, painting, fencing, singing, writing, etc)?
I just know that if I had Ouran money, I’d have so many more hobbies. Thank you!
my life is a little hectic right now, as all you lovely people know. but I had this written, or most of it anyway, and I wanted to post it :) thank you for your patience with me while I deal with this difficult time, and for your amazing request!
The Hosts and their S.O. with too many hobbies! {Ohshc x Gender Neutral!Hobbiest!Reader}
missing Honey and Haruhi - will add them when I can!
.oOo.
Tamaki’s reader:
Ballet
Gardening
Painting
Tamaki’s eyes sparkled as you leaped across the stage, never daring to look away from your sculpted body framed in the dramatic stage lights. Tears had been glistening in his violet eyes since your first pirouette, and now he was wiping his cheek every chance he could get. Quickly, so he didn’t miss a single moment.
The prince was left breathless as you danced. The art of ballet flowed so naturally through your form, you looked like you belonged on that stage. Through the kaleidoscope of his tears, Tamaki sighed as you spun and jumped and just moved so fluidly, the emotion on your face making him feel with you.
Your technique dazzled every single member of the audience, and when you bowed, the blonde man was the first to shoot up from his seat. He shoved his palms together unceremoniously, whooping and cheering as everyone politely clapped around him, but he didn’t care. When you tipped your head up and found his wet eyes in the crowd with a playful smile on your lips, he knew he had never seen anything more beautiful.
Scratch that.
“Tamaki!” Your hand shot up from the sea of people filing into the theater lobby, and he zoned in on it. On a mission, a blonde head and a (h/c) head come closer together, pushing through the black suits and long dresses in order to greet the other. Finally, the waters part, and Tamaki takes in your glory with a grin.
“Mon amour…” He breathes, and it’s all you can do not to skip to him as you hold your pointe shoes in your hand. The bouquet of flowers he brought are set down in favor of catching your form and spinning you in the air. His hands come flat against your back as he buries his face in your neck, whispering your praises into your hair.
“You did so well, my love.” He feels your hands wrap tighter around his neck. “You’re so incredibly talented.”
Setting you down gently, he cradles your face. Your beaming at him, pride and adrenaline coursing through your pupils as you try to catch your breath, and he revises his initial thought.
This is the most beautiful thing he has ever seen. Your gorgeous features enveloped in pure joy.
Chuckling, his voice is like butter as he runs one of his fingers over your cheekbone. “How do you feel?”
“Amazing.” Your chest heaves, but your smile is bright. “Especially after seeing you in the audience.”
“Please,” He says, tugging you closer. “I never would’ve missed the opportunity to see you shine.”
Tamaki kisses you then, and you melt. His fingers are gentle against your jaw, peeking into your hairline for a moment as your lips meet sweetly. You hum when he pulls away, wacking him when he smirks at the blush on your face.
“Everytime.” He says, teasing you with a kiss to your cheek.
“Shut up.” You groan. “You can’t kiss me like that and not expect it to affect me.”
“Like what?” A blonde eyebrow quirks up. “Like this?”
He leans in again before someone clears their throat. A man with a collar too high on his neck gives you two a disapproving glare as he walks by, clearly upset by the dramatic display of affection.
You just giggle as the man moves on somewhere else. “Maybe we shouldn’t kiss like that in front of all these people.”
Tamaki rolls his eyes but steps away from you ever-so-slightly. “When you look at me like that, I can’t help myself.”
“Contain yourself.” You tease.
“That will never be possible, mon amour, when my heart can’t even contain its beat with you in this leotard.” Shrugging off his suit jacket, he drapes it around your shoulders. “Maybe cover up a little though, huh? Just for my sanity?”
Laughing, you pull your arms through the too big sleeves, basking in the cologne smell and the sense of security it brings you. “Okay. You can just take it off later.”
Tamaki’s eyes widen as a blush forms on his cheeks, but he grins. “You’re such a flirt.”
“Look who’s talking.” Putting your arm through his, you lean against his side and giggle, his stature supporting you like it always does. But as you turn him towards the front door of the theater, he gasps.
“Wait!” Your boyfriend quickly spins and grabs the flowers that were almost forgotten on the carpet, luckily not trampled by the crowd of opera goers.
“These…” Separating your arms softly, he stands in front of you, bowing as he holds out the gift. “...are for you, darling.”
He hears you gasp, and when he straightens, your eyes are wide and sparkling at the flowers in front of you. (E/c) pools scan every petal, every leaf and stem, and your hand gently cradles the buds.
“Tama…” Your voice is soft enough to not disturb the flora in front of you. “These are from my garden.”
He nods. “I wanted to make the bouquet special enough for you.”
“You wrapped them up so beautifully…” You breathe, and you scan them top to bottom. Your eyes pause at the bottom of the stems. “You didn’t give them a diagonal cut?”
A hand comes to cover his mouth. “Oh, no! I forgot to give them a diagonal cut!” Tamaki swallows before running a hand through his hair. “Before I fix it, of course, just remind me what that is.”
Your hair doesn’t jostle from the hairspray that holds your ballet hair together when you shake your head. “Silly prince. It’s when you cut the bottom of the stem diagonally when you pick them, so that they can absorb more water.”
“Oh…” And with that, a determined gleam twinkled in his eye. “That’s an easy fix! Let me find some scissors.” Quickly, he looks around the bustling lobby, waving his hand. “Who has scissors?!”
“No! No, Tamaki.” Laughing, you bring his hand back down to your side, cradling the large bouquet in your other arm. “It’s fine. Just remember for next time.”
He sees your throat bob, as if you’re holding something else back. “Is there something else, amour?”
You take a breath, fully prepared to deny anything, but you sigh, slumping your shoulders as another critique spills out of you. “And also, for next time, just get me chocolate? I work really hard on making sure these flowers stay alive, and they look much prettier on the bush they were grown on then arranged only to die in a few days.”
Your heart lunges when you see a darkened expression take over his face. “Oh my god, I killed your flowers.”
“That’s okay! It’s fine, roses are easy to grow this time of year, I promise.” You hurry to correct him, putting your palm on his jaw.
“I was trying to make it special, I swear.” He whines. His hand comes to rest over yours on his cheek, his fingers grasping your own. “I just didn’t think about it that way.”
You simper at him. “It was special. Knowing how much care you put into arranging them like this is so special to me. Thank you, Tamaki.”
It’s your turn to kiss him on the cheek, and he practically melts. As you’re about to walk out of the busy theater, you feel Tamaki’s arms wrap around your form. He lifts you, cradling you like the royalty you are.
Before you can protest, he shoves your face into the crook of his neck, blonde wisps tickling your cheeks. “Your poor legs, they must be so sore after all that dancing.”
“I can walk just fine.”
“I know.” He squeezes you closer to his chest, and your arms betray your words as they wrap around his neck.
Tamaki takes you back to your home, your parents having missed the recital in favor of a business trip somewhere. There was a long shower, a hot meal, and plenty of cuddling and soft touches before the evening sky touched down into night, and the moonlight poured into the large windows of your place.
Now, he leans on the couch, his feet propped up as he stretches his long form across the length of the white cushions. The serene night fluttered as he opened his eyes from a lazy nap he took, inhaling the scent that was so perfectly you. It calmed him.
To his side, a clanking sound rang into the quiet space. He slowly turned his head to see you gently setting a cup of tea onto one of the side tables. He meets your sheepish gaze when you realize you woke him up, biting your lip.
“I know you’re better at making tea, but I tried.” You offer, spinning the saucer with two fingers so that the handle was facing him. A sweet smile pulls his beautiful face as he sits up.
“Thank you, mon amour.” Reaching for the tea cup, he sees that you are about to walk away from him towards the arching window in your bedroom, the one that looks out over your garden. There is a paint easel set up facing the view, a nearly-exact replica of it being portrayed on your canvas.
Tsking, he lightly grips your wrist, putting pressure to spin you back around. With a yelp, you fall seamlessly across his lap, his arm bracing your back.
“I didn’t get to thank you properly.” His voice rumbles, and his lips are pressed to yours again, leaving you to soften into a lovesick puddle. Your mouths move once, twice, and you can’t resist holding him there for a third time before you separate. His violet eyes transfix on your features, a gentle smile on his lips.
“What?” You ask, laughing as he zones out once again. There’s a sparkle in his eyes as he sinks into his, what you like to call, mental theater. “Tamaki, you’re staring.”
Blinking, that sparkle in his eyes fades, but not very much. A finger comes out and wipes off a smear of paint from your cheek. “No, I’m falling, amour. All over again.”
Humming, you pick his chin back up into your grasp. “Then I’ll be here to catch you, darling.”
A cherry blush coats his cheeks when you initiate the kiss this time, and he makes a sound of pleasure against your lips. When you pull away, he is stuttering and hiding behind the tea cup. Chuckling, you watch his hand shake slightly as he tries to regain his cool. “You okay there?”
“What? Of course, I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?” He rambles, taking a very purposeful sip of the tea you brought him. Then his cheeks bulge, struggling to hold the liquid in his mouth.
“Oh god, it’s terrible, isn’t it?” You say, covering your mouth.
Tamaki shakes his head, but he is breaking out into a nervous sweat.
“Tamaki, spit it out if you don’t like it.” Urging him, you push the cup back to his closed lips. He refuses, his face turning a slight shade of green.
“Tama!” You laugh a little, pleading with him. His grip on the tea cup tightens, and you see the struggle in his swallow as he forces it down his throat.
“G-great as always, angel.” He lies, still wincing at the aftertaste. “Oh mon dieu…” He curses underneath his breath.
Rolling your eyes, you place the cup back on the saucer. “You don’t have to lie.” You insist with a teasing smirk.
A weak grin escapes his full lips. “You are such a talented person, (Y/n).” He starts, nuzzling into your shoulder. “You’re perfect.” And even as his stomach turns, he is grateful to have a significant other with many talents, even if making tea isn’t one of them.
.oOo.
Kyoya’s reader:
Debate club
Woodworking
Reading
Long legs race down the hall, dressed in perfectly iron slacks and shined dress shoes. His black book is clasped in his hand as Kyoya turns another corner, the door to his destination finally coming in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, the megane fixes his glasses, gray eyes trained on the entrance down the hall.
Students are bustling outside of the auditorium, waiting in line as the start time for the debate draws nearer. Kyoya, at his height, pushes past his fellow peers, easily being able to see over the ocean of yellow dresses and lavender jackets.
Before he can reach the heavy double doors into the theater space, he’s stopped by a hand at his arm.
“Excuse me, sir, but you can’t enter the auditorium yet. Not until I’ve been given the green light.” The voice of a security guard sounds over the noise of side conversations, and Kyoya’s dark lashes flick up to meet her stern ones. Clearing his throat, he gently detaches his arm from her grip. He matches her polite smile, a fake one stretching his own lips.
“I understand, Miss. But I’m actually late. I was supposed to meet someone backstage, but I unfortunately got mine and their schedules muddled.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but these doors are closed to the public until the start time.”
Squinting slightly, his host smile grows a little longer on his pale skin. “It’s Miss Kato Hisa, isn’t it?”
The security guard’s eyes widened, knowing that her name tag had been lost in her car for weeks now. “Yes, sir. Have we met?”
“Not formally, no.” Tucking his black book under his arm, he reaches his palm out, grasping her hand in greeting. “I am Ootori Kyoya. Third son to the Ootori family.”
Her hand tightened in his before he let it drop, and she gasped excitedly. “Oh, my gosh, I didn’t realize! Your police force is the top force in the nation.” She smiles sheepishly. “I actually submitted my application a few weeks ago–”
“I’m well aware.” His deep voice cuts her off. “My family only accepts the best, you know. But, I’m sure my father and the chief of the force could be urged in a different direction, with the proper motivations.”
Hisa’s grin widens. “Wow, Ootori-san, that would be amazing! I would be so grateful–”
“If I could be let in now, then you may have your chance.”
Her grin falls. “But, I can’t do that, sir. I am under strict orders not to let anyone in until the appropriate time.”
“Then I’m afraid your application would fall to the bottom of the pile unseen.” Kyoya’s facade is too sweet for his words. “Forgotten.”
The security guard’s face falls into a thin line, searching the Ootori son’s eyes for the joke, or a speck of unseriousness. Of course, she will find none. She can’t read him the way you can.
“You’re cruel.” Swallowing, her fingers grip around the door handle. Pulling it open a crack wide enough for his lithe frame to slip through, she mumbles as he passes. “Enjoy the debate.”
“Thank you, I will.” His tone is low as he moves down the aisles to the sides of the stage. What a weak integrity, he muses, flying down the carpeted stairs. She couldn’t last a day on our police force.
Soon, he hears bustling from behind the debate stage, and he swishes the curtains to the side, slipping into a crowd of debate teams. A stormy gaze sweeps over the crowd, looking for a conglomerate of dark blue suits, the official uniform of the Ouran Debate Team. Once he finds them, he makes a beeline for an (h/c) individual bouncing their leg, a historical fiction novel in their hands.
He simpers at the genre. You only read historical fiction when you’re nervous.
You don’t hear the click of his dress shoes before he is stopped right in front of you, too engrossed in the story to pick out your boyfriend’s movements.
“(Y/n).” That voice shocks you from your trance, and you sweep your gaze up from your seat to find Kyoya smirking down at you, a little flushed. Gasping, you stand immediately, a wide smile taking over your lips.
“Kyo.” You greet him happily, placing your book onto a lone table next to you. “I’m so glad you made it.” Reaching out, you fix a strand of his hair that had been sticking up from his wind-swept look. Then you notice his rapid breaths and his pink cheekbones.
Chuckling a bit, your smile grows. “Are you okay? Did you run here?”
Scoffing, he rolls his eyes at you. “Of course not. Just a brisk walk.” He steps closer, the palm not grasping his journal resting onto your hip. “I apologize for being late. I got the dates confused.”
“The dates?”
Nodding, he flips open the famous black book as he pulls you a little closer into his side so that you could see. You lean into his shoulder as he shows you the section that acts as his planner.
“I thought your debate was tomorrow, when, in reality, your woodworking exposition is tomorrow evening. Since your exposition starts an hour later, I incorrectly believed I had more time to work on my club’s budget.”
“You do tend to get lost in the numbers.”
His eyes slip past you to the book next to you. “We all have our methods of escape.”
“I can’t argue with that.” You agree, (e/c) meeting thunderstorms.
“Now, that’s not true.” He teasingly gestures to your debate team. “Isn’t that the point of all this?”
Groaning, you lay your head on his shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”
“(Y/n), my dear.” Pulling apart from you slightly, he takes your hands in his. They are smaller, and he likes that he can encapsulate them in his grasp, keeping them safe. “You’re nervous.”
“You know, it’s not like you to state the obvious.”
“It’s not like you to be so anxious.” He retorts. “You are usually very confident in your debate abilities.”
You quirk an eyebrow at him, a smirk blooming onto your lips. “But being nervous is a natural reaction. Especially when talking about competition.”
“But don’t you agree that confidence is a more helpful emotion?” He responds, eyeing the smart style you have slicked your hair into. “Empirical evidence supports that people achieve more when they are of competent mind, instead of pushing themselves down.”
You take a step forward into his space, your shoulders back. “True. However, a study recently conducted in Switzerland concluded that when an individual person is nervous, or feels anxiety, they tend to work harder towards their goal, as their brain specifically prioritizes that achievement rather than any other.”
He hums thoughtfully, also taking a step forward. “Is that so? Wouldn’t more anxiety hinder that ability to do well? Some people succumb to the state of nervousness. Students procrastinate all the time in fear of not doing well, so they don’t end up actually starting.”
Your hands swing lower, till clasped together as you inch forward even more, his angled face only a few breaths from yours. His eye-line makes a triangle shape across your features, going from your left pupil, to your full lips, and then your right.
“Maybe so, if you are specifically talking about education.” Your voice drops a little lower, falling into a bubble with him. “But in competition, especially group sports like debate, there is an added social pressure. Competitors are not only nervous about their own preparedness, but how that preparedness might affect their team, a team that relies on them. Those anxieties grouped together enhance an individual's motivation to do well.”
Kyoya’s heart drummed a little faster in his chest. Here you were, standing in front of him in a very flattering suit, the color striking against your skin tone. Your words were concise, your tone was steady, and your touch had already been drawing him closer into you. His throat had gone dry at your smart demeanor, your intellect shining in the reflection of his spectacles.
He needed to pull himself together.
But he indulged a little more, pulling one of his hands away from yours to grasp your chin in his fingers, tugging your temptations into his hold. “I yield.” He murmured.
Before your lips could connect, however, another student from the opposing debate team jostled his shoulder. You steadied him as the student grumbled under his breath. “Get a room. Fucking horny high schoolers.”
Kyoya glared daggers at the man, already calculating the next strike to his reputation before he heard your laughter. He felt you pry his fingers off of you, and he turned to see you smiling curiously at him, the sharp edges of his gaze already softening.
“Kissing in public?” You tease, placing a small peck on the inside of his palm. “Being late has made you so scrambled.”
Scoffing, he turns your head to the side. Favoring a far more appropriate kiss on the cheek, he responds in your ear. “You’re right, what was I thinking? You have to win to earn it.”
A gasping breath rushes through your lungs. “So not only am I competing in the finals for my debate team, I’m also competing for my boyfriend’s affection.” You narrow your gaze. “You're cruel.”
He smirks, and now it’s your turn to feel a skipped heartbeat. “So I’ve been told.”
But you hum, leaning closer. “If I don’t deserve a kiss from my boyfriend, I guess you don’t deserve the present I made for you.”
A black eyebrow raises. “You have a gift for me? Isn’t it my place to get you a gift before your critical night?”
“Yes, and I’m fully expecting whatever incredibly thoughtful gift you’ve managed to hide from me up until this point. Because I know you got me something to commemorate this day.” Turning, you move to your backpack, shuffling through it. “But I made this in Wood Shop. Just to clear my head before tonight.”
Pulling the wrapped object out of your bag, you hand it to him, beaming proudly at him. Gently, he takes it from you, immediately trying to guess what it was from the weight and size of the box.
“I’ve been trying woodcarving more often than actual carpentry.” You explain as his pianist fingers unwrap the present. “I wanted you to have my first successful product.”
God, he was almost disgusted at how bright his heart was glowing, how much lighter it became at your words. Swallowing, he pulled a nearly black object out of the decorative box, his lips parting at the sight.
A carved rose laid elegantly between his fingers. The detail was impeccable, the petals imitating something delicate even if it was created from something so solid. The flower was heavy in his grasp, but with its weight came an accurate beauty. He hadn’t really studied the skill it would take to create something like this, but he planned to do some extensive research when he was able.
Still, he knew it took an intense study on angles, and an assured hand to make cuts in the right places. Kyoya also realized the time, the focus, and the determination that someone must have to make something as perfect as this. To see an image in the wood and reveal it to the world.
The Ootori son gently began to put the rose back into the box.
Your lip worried between your teeth. “It’s made out of Gaboon ebony, which is the darkest wood available in nature. I know you have a very specific color scheme for your spaces, so I thought that would fit perfectly as a desk decoration.”
Kyoya met your gaze, placing the lid on the giftbox.
Shrugging, you shifted, wondering why a man of many words had gone silent. “And I don’t know why, but I thought a rose would be a good image. It’s romantic, sure, but…I don’t know, they have a grace to them that matches yours. In my eyes, at least.” You say.
A finger pushes up his lens as he steps towards you, placing the box slowly onto the same spare table you had set your book.
His cologne washes over you as he does, and you swallow. “Do you not like it? I could make you something else, maybe something a little sharper. A rose might’ve been too feminine–”
Your doubt is halted as Kyoya surges forward, both of his skilled hands framing your face as he pulls your mouth to his. Surprise sounds against where your lips meet before it dissolves into a wanting breath, tilting your head a little more to absorb as much of his spontaneity as you can.
It’s a closed kiss, but you both fit together like a puzzle piece, and you feel every unspoken emotion between you as he holds you to him, your own arms slipping to his waist.
When he breaks apart, you’re blushing deeply, eyes scattering to see if anyone saw the public display of affection, but the crowd was too busy with their own conversations of boosting morale and good luck.
You came back to the moment, taking a breath as you clasp your hands behind his back. “What was that for?”
His own voice was breathless, but the dazed look in his eyes sharpened, and his kissed lips smirked back at you. “You earned it.”
And even if your many talents and expositions busied his schedule, the smile that grew on your face and the way he had to gently shove you away before you stole another kiss made it worth it.
.oOo.
Hikaru’s Reader:
Kickboxing
Nail Tech
Sewing
“I’m gonna kill ‘em.”
“No, baby. You can’t do that.”
“No, I’m gonna do it. I’m gonna kill ‘em.”
You sigh, holding a piece of gauze to your right cheek, and your other hand holds an ice pack to the back of your head. The swelling hadn’t gone down, so the skin was plump and red as you watched Hikaru pace the empty locker room. He ran his hands through his ginger locks, pivoting on his heel as he fumes.
Your costume fluttered around you. Since you made your own regalia, you had gone with a gold look this time. A spandex material grabbed against your muscled, shining in the metallic color, with stylish cut outs where you felt really emphasized your figure. Your hair had subtle gold streaks through it, but you were most proud of the cape you had draped over your shoulders.
It was embellished with a gold trim and heavy velvet fabric, something you wore before you entered the ring. It was luxurious, elegant, and it matched the same color in Hikaru’s eyes, already making you love it even more.
Hikaru made sure to find a pair of boxing gloves that matched, and he even offered to do your makeup before your match. He swiped gold eyeshadow over your (e/c) pools, and yellow gems traced under your waterline.
He had pretended to not be able to look at you, saying that you shine too brightly and he couldn’t stand your beauty any more.
Now, with these scratches and minor swellings, he wouldn’t look at you. Not in your sparkling eyes, at least. Only at the scratches.
“Hikaru. Kyoya would kill you if you murdered someone. You’d have to go to prison, leaving him down one Brotherly Love package.”
He puts his hands on his hips, pulling his lips between his teeth. “No, I don’t care. Kaoru will figure something out.”
He pauses when the referee of your most recent kickboxing match walks through the door. The ref clicks the door behind him, making eye contact with you as he makes his way towards you, the actual competitor.
But someone else wanted to step into the ring. A blur of orange stepped into the ref’s path, ginger clashing with black and white. “You’re gonna do something about that, right?”
The ref sighed, putting his hands up in a surrender move. “Sir, there isn’t much we can do–”
“No, shut up. You’re gonna fucking do something, right?” Hikaru gestures wildly, his eyes wild as he gets into the referee’s space. His arms direct over to you, his golden eyes scanning over your injuries for the millionth time. “Look at the love of my life. Look at them. I mean, something has to be illegal here, right? Those hits, they weren’t–, I mean, they were unconscious and they kept going!”
“Hikaru, please.” You say, bringing the gauze to another cut right above your eyebrow, chuckling a little bit. “Let the man speak. Maybe to the actual competitor. ”
Huffing, Hikaru turns to you, eyes fierce. But that fire melts into a warm sunlight as he realizes the fact that your hands are full trying to stop the bleeding and the swelling on your own. Exasperated, it takes two strides for him to be by your side.
“What’re you doing? Trying to do this yourself…” He criticizes, but you know there isn’t any fire behind it. Taking the ice pack, he grumbles, glaring daggers at the referee that moves to sit across one of the benches in the locker room. Hikaru holds the ice pack to your face, his other hand rubbing up and down your back softly.
The ref’s eyes look over the pair of you, sighing deeply. You rolled your eyes as the referee shuffled on the bench, looking guiltier by the second.
“I know I should’ve stopped them.” He admitted. “I hadn’t realized you were down for the count.”
You shift the gauze against your cheek. “Just be glad it didn’t result in anything more than a few scratches. But you should’ve been paying attention.”
Hikaru opens his mouth, but you shake your head. The referee nodded his head before hanging it.
“I know.” He spoke, clasping his hands in front of him. “You are usually such a good competitor, (Y/n), I thought you were going to get back up.”
Hikaru scoffed. “Are you pinning this on them?” He growled as he gripped the ice pack tighter. “That they should’ve been a better fighter so they didn’t get K.O.’d?”
“Hikaru–” You warn, but your boyfriend was nothing if he wasn’t stubborn, his fierceness burning under the surface.
“Of course not!” The referee stuttered. “I was only trying to explain–”
“Yeah, well, all I hear are excuses.” Hikaru bites, the arm on your back becoming tighter around your shoulders. “Get your boss in here. I want to speak to them.”
The man across from you gulped. “Are we sure that’s necessary?”
The Hitachiian twin’s teeth must’ve been razor sharp the way he barred them at the ref. “One hundred percent. I have no idea how ref’s like you get hired anyway, but I want to see who was dumb enough to actually sign the paper.”
“Baby, that’s enough.” You were scowling, but on the inside you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the ref’s face morphed from horror to the acceptance of his fate.
“Of course, sir.” Sighing, the referee offers one last apology before scratching the back of his head, the locker room door swinging behind his exeunt.
Hikaru was still muttering to himself as he brushed your hair out of your face, the strands wet with the sweat on your forehead. “Fucking people, don’t know how to do their jobs…”
“Hikaru…” Your voice is gentle as you pull the ice pack and gauze away from your face, your attractive features finally looking a little more normal. Your hand frames his cheek, and the anger in his eyes completely goes away. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”
“I know that.” He frowns, the rasp in his voice carrying a sigh. But you could tell his eyes were still scanning your skin, making sure there weren't any other injuries that he missed. “And you’re tougher than you look.”
“Exactly.” A proud smirk plays on your lips.
“Plus,” That smirk that both annoys you and warms you rises to his mouth. “You’ve got a pretty thick skull. I think you could take a few more hits before it becomes a problem.”
Scoffing, you push him away. “I’m gonna hit you if you don’t shut up.”
“I think I wouldn’t mind.”
“Oh really?” You wrap your arm around him, bringing him closer. “You’re a freak.”
“You’re a tease.” His canines sparkle when he smiles, and it’s all you can do to make the kiss you two share as short as possible. Otherwise, the way he gently cradles your face, or how his lips move against yours would pull you in forever.
A door swinging open interrupted your bliss anyway, and you two jumped apart. Hikaru groaned softly, a small blush coming onto his scowling cheeks.
A woman in a fine pressed suit walked across the tile, her heels echoing within the locker room. You recognized her as the manager of the ring in which you’ve had most of your kickboxing matches, and you rose to meet her.
“(Y/n).”
Clutching her hand, you shake it gently, aware of your sore shoulder. “Nice to see you again.”
Hikaru just folds his arms in the background, standing at your side. The manager gives a sidelong glance before giving you a business smile.
“I wanted to personally apologize for the oversight our referee had during your match tonight.” She says, her lip gloss catching the fluorescent lights above. “You are one of our most beloved fighters, the audience loves you and your unique costumes and looks.”
In her handshake, the manager felt the smooth texture on your fingernails, and turned your hand over in hers. “Your vibrant, fearless creativity inspires many people in our kickboxing world, even if you are a little unorthodox.”
Your nails are painted with a metallic background, and when she presses your fingernails together, they create a picture of an intricate, swirling gold dragon across your nail beds. It was beautiful, it was detailed, and it had been incredibly time consuming.
You kept your nails short, and the art was absolutely covered by your kickboxing gloves, but it made you feel powerful knowing that you creation was there, even if you were the one of two who knew it.
The manager's dark eyes slid to your boyfriend who had crossed his arms, still glaring daggers at the lady. She just smiled, her gaze dropping to where his hands were visible in the crevice of his elbow.
“And it seems you have a supportive partner, as well.” She comments, causing both of your eyebrows to crease before you realize what she is talking about. Hikaru flared out his own hands, and how you had done a small but still detailed nail piece on his own hands. His fingers matched yours in color and style, but instead of having the dragon across all five of his fingers, there was a baby one swirling on his thumbs and ring fingers.
He huffs, a smirk coming to his lips as he looks at your art for the millionth time today. “Yeah, they’re pretty incredible.”
“I don’t doubt it.” The manager nods, a sweet smile on her lips. “Both in the ring and out of it, you are definitely a prize. Which is why we’d like to give you one.”
“You want to give me a prize?” You ask, a little surprise leaking into your voice. “For losing?”
The manager hums. “More for winning over the crowd, or for keeping this little instance between us. No one was seriously injured, and–”
“How about I give you the same bruises that competitor gave my partner, and then we’ll see what you think counts as ‘seriously injured’.” Hikaru growls, cracking his knuckles. He steps forward, but you stop him with your arm.
“Threatening them won’t do anything.” You sigh, but your mouth turns into a scowl. “But I’m not taking your ‘hush’ money.”
“Well,” The manager scoffs, her calm facade cracking slightly. “We must do something. If you are to continue to fight here, then all of us have to–”
“They aren’t gonna fight here anymore, then.” Hikaru’s voice cuts through the manager’s pompous assumptions, and he grabs your hand, gently moving you around her straight posture.
Her heels clack as she follows you in earnest. “Wait, you can’t speak for them.”
But as you follow behind your boyfriend, a man who is angry for your safety and your honor, you spin around, smirking through your scratches as you give them the middle finger. “You’re right, he can’t. But, even if it’s rare, he’s right. I’m out of here.”
Her slick ponytail is fraying. “But, you can’t! You have a contract!”
Hikaru mirrors your actions, and now you both are flipping her off as you back out of the locker room, your glorious cape draped across his arm.
“I’ll pay whatever it takes to break ‘em out of it,” He says, his smirk growing. “And for you to leave them alone.”
Then, you both do a lazy salute as you finally step out of that locker room, out of that situation.
Laughing, Hikaru stops his walking, causing you to stumble into him. He catches you, and you both break out into a fit, holding onto each other as you walk to his car.
Easily, he presses you up against the passenger side, using a finger to push a piece of gold-painted hair back into place. His other hand comes to gently cup the other side of your face, his thumb lightly tracing a scratch on your cheekbone.
“Let’s get you home, yeah?” He says, his scratchy voice vibrating into the setting sky. “Gotta get you bandaged up, baby.”
.oOo.
Kaoru’s Reader:
Sketching
Baseball
Writing
“You know,” Kaoru said, pins between his teeth as he took them out of the bodice of your outfit one by one. “Everytime we do this, I still get distracted by you. Everytime.”
You scoff, rolling your eyes even as a blush comes to your cheeks. “You’re an even worse flirt than Tamaki.”
A groan sounds behind you as you feel hands pry the bodice off of your torso. “Don’t talk about the Boss when I am literally undressing you.”
Cool, conditioned air rushes across your newly bare skin as Kaoru throws the garment across the car seat, the leather sticking to your back as you lean into it. Arching your hips, you tug the bottom of your dress pants off, making sure the divider was up between you and your boyfriend’s family driver.
“You sure he can’t see us?” You ask, wiggling out of your underwear.
Kaoru sets the pins into his cushion, smiling. “Per usual, no.” Then the redhead turns, his smirk revealing a sharp canine. “Unless you’re into that sort of thing?”
“Kaoru!”
He cackles, but he can’t help his eyes when they drag over your bare form. Yes, changing clothes in his car was a normal thing due to your busy schedule with your many hobbies, but he never got tired of having you naked in his backseat.
He tsks. “Are you sure we don’t have time to–”
The pants you had been wearing flew into his face. “No!” You sounded a laugh as he pulled the garment off his head, and you chuckled at the way his red hair fluffed when he did.
His pale hand reaches down and grabs the duffel bag, packing the black tie outfit you wore to your art show into it and pulling out your team uniform. You pulled on the right undergarments that would support you sliding across the dirt in a baseball diamond, and caught your jersey when Kaoru threw it at you from across the car seat.
“Going from riches to rags.” He says, arranging your cleats next to you with the appropriate socks.
“You literally made these uniforms, babe.” You say, deadpanning as you squeeze yourself into the form-fitting bottoms.
“I know that.” He says, eyeing the way your toned body fills the sporty look nicely. “But I much prefer the elegant attire that I pinned you into earlier.”
“Oh, I forgot to mention.” You add, distracted as you put the baseball cap on your head, your team logo facing out towards the front seat. “Everyone loved what I was wearing.”
His lips quirked to one side. “Well, duh.”
“Expectedly so.” You tighten your belt around your waist. “But this afternoon’s outfit was…well it was just really spectacular.” Your smile reflects against the city lights.
Now dressed in the full baseball regalia, you lean over to your own personal fashionista, putting a finger under his chin.
“I’m really lucky to have Japan’s second best fashion designer as my quick-change roadie.”
Any sweetness in Kaoru's eyes vanishes, and a second after your lips are a breath away, he is pushing you to the other end of the backseat. “Oh yeah? Then someone else can get you dressed for your book reading tomorrow.”
You gasp. “Oh no. Whatever will I do without the expert way you zip a zipper?”
The Hitachiuan twin feigned offense. “That’s what I majored in.”
“And what about your knowledge on what colors I look best in? I’ll be so washed out.”
He crosses his arms, still looking at you with a smug simper. “You’ll just have to figure it out.”
Shrugging, you cross your legs, your cleats knocking against each other. “I guess I’ll just have to find someone else to undress me in the backseat of their family’s car.”
A hum sounds to the other side of you, like honey being poured into tea. “Now that’s something I know no one can do better than I can.”
Two manicured hands are suddenly around your waist, and you are dragged across leather. The soft material of your pants are seated into Kaoru’s lap, while, like instinct, your arms wrap around his neck.
“I think we can finally agree on something.” You concede, your eyes meeting his in the dim light. The city rushes by outside of the limo’s glass, but time stands still when your lips touch. A pleased sound resonates in the back of his throat when you nip at his bottom lip, and you feel him smile into the kiss.
Pulling away, you share another longing moment before you groan, your head resting into the crook of his neck.
“Are you sure the art show went well?” You ask, hiding your insecurity as you bury your nose into Kaoru’s cologne.
Chuckling, you feel his hands casually lock around your hip. His cheek comes to rest on the top of your head, the two of you squished to one side of the seat. “I’m sure. You’re talented, you know that.”
“I do, but I’ve just been so distracted with everything that I have going on.” You can hear his pulse inside his throat, encouraging you to open up a little more. “I balance so much that it feels hard to put 100 percent of my effort into everything I do. I feel like I’m half-assing it.”
“(Y/n), babe.” He brings your face away so that you can look at him clearly. The driver makes a right turn, the force pushing the two of you closer together. “Sketching, sports, writing. All of these things are your life. You’re allowed to put your energy into multiple outlets at once, as long as it’s not draining you.”
“I don’t think it is.” And he knew that. He knew that even if you seemed tired after a hard day in the studio, or maybe a tough day at practice, the smile on your face was genuine. You always put everything you had into everything you did, and that was just one of the things he adored about you.
“My partner is an all star, author, and an artist.” Kaoru says, a proud glint in his golden eyes. “And you know what? Because of that, I’m never bored.”
“Thank god for that. It ceases your regularly-scheduled destruction.” You say, a finger twirling into his ginger strands. “Although Hikaru probably misses his partner in crime.”
Kaoru just shrugs. “Hikaru has always been able to create his own chaos, he’ll be fine.”
“So, if you have this much confidence in me, then you must think my first book reading tomorrow is going to go well too, right?”
“I couldn’t be more sure. I was able to read the whole thing, and I don’t think I’ve been able to finish a fiction book in my life.” The twin admits, and you smirk.
“Well, that’s obvious.”
His golden irises roll. “Very funny.”
“Then, what about this game?” You ask, looking out the window to see the baseball stadium peek out from the horizon. You still had a ways to go. “Think I’m gonna win?”
There was silence. You got lost in the city’s sparkling skyline a little longer before your gaze snapped down to your boyfriend’s, just to see him avoiding your gaze.
“Kaoru?”
“Huh? What?” He says, and he runs a hand over your jawline. “Wow, babe, you’re so beautiful.”
Scoffing, you lean away from him. “You don’t think we’re gonna win?”
“I didn’t say that!”
“Kaoru, you only have so many thoughts that can fit into the pea-sized brain of yours.” You say, laughing. “You should not be wasting that space doubting me.”
“I will never doubt you.” He says, grabbing your hand that began to poke at his forehead to see if you could hear an echo.
“I will, however,” the Hitachiian brother raises your hand to his lips, “realize that while you are immensely talented, baseball is a team effort.”
You give him a blank look. “And my team sucks.”
He kisses your hand. “They suck so bad.”
And you're laughing. A few seconds ago, you were drowning into your anxiety, but Kaoru made you feel light enough to float above them all. Balancing multiple things at once was hard work, but having a man like him at your side made it easier.
Your laughter dies down, and there’s an extra spark in Kaoru’s eye that paired well with the city lights reflected in his pupils.
You hit his chest, even as he snakes kisses up your shoulder and onto your neck. “Kaoru, we can’t.”
“The stadium is still a ways away. We have time.”
Your skin tingles under his touch, and you sigh. “Kaoru…” You weakly try to push him away, but he holds onto your hips.
“(Y/n)…”
Huffing out a breath, you take off your baseball cap so you can properly kiss him without it bumping into Kaoru’s forehead. “Fine, but we have to be quick.”
His laughter rings out as he pulls you into his chest, and you are already second-guessing his intentions on making it quick as he draws his tongue slowly up your throat.
It’s a good thing the divider was up.
.oOo.
Mori’s Reader
Fencing
Yoga
Poetry
Swords clashed, the metal twinge sounding against the Hinoki cypress that covered the dojo’s walls. And each time you and your opponents’ swords would cross, your heart would pound in sync, both beats echoing with your efforts.
Thirteen touches. Your opponent had scored thirteen touches against you within this bout, and you were determined to not let him get the last two he needed to win. Lunging, your sabre jabs across the piste with a grunt from your lips, only to have it wacked away immediately by your competitor.
You clench your jaw as you ward off one of his own jabs, trying to see through the mesh of your fencing mask. The long torso of the man across from you twists, leaning to the right. But once you move to block it, he swerves, turning to the left and touching you in the ribs.
Huffing, you rip off your mask, your hair fluffing out once freed of the hard shell. “You’re kidding me.”
Mori easily slides off his own helmet, letting the smug grin on his face widen at the sight of your exasperation. His black hair fell slightly in front of his face before he pushed it out of the way, a few drops of sweat beginning to bead on the edge of his jawline.
Grumbling, you point your saber half-heartedly at him. “I’ve been fencing my whole life and you only started a couple months ago. How are you so good at this?”
He shrugged his shoulders in a way that was so irritatingly handsome, you had to force your head back into your mask.
“Again.” You demand.
With one hand, Mori effortlessly readjusts his own gear, and you both fall back into a fighting stance.
Your boyfriend had always been good at things without ever trying too hard. It seems he had an eerily accurate way of breaking any sport, art form, or hobby down to its basics, and extorting it in front of his opponents. Easily, he analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of any obstacle he was put up against, and bent them to his advantage.
He was smart, analytical, and having way too much fun watching you become frustrated as he brought you both to match point. You could tell by the way he stood, slightly bouncing on the balls of his feet to keep himself agile, his martial arts training coming in handy. He held his sword out with one arm, and the other bent at his back, but his shoulders were dropped low, a casual stance as he became more confident in his victory.
Growling, you lunged first, starting your combat again. You were aggressive, and you took pleasure in seeing his shoulders rise as he took a defensive position against your attacks. Arms burning, you swiped and slashed at his white suit, all of your fencing training becoming honed into this very moment. You were sure a soundtrack could be made to emphasize the way you moved forward, forcing him to step back and block any chaotic jabs and swipes that you threw his way.
You heard him gasp as his foot dropped off the piste, and his tall body tripped, falling backwards as you stood over him, the vertex of your sabre denting the clothing on his chest.
His chest heaved with the effort, and you crouched, once again pulling off your headwear. “That’s more like it.”
You pulled off his mask as well, this time leaving the thick strands that fell into his brown eyes. His confident smirk had been replaced with a slight scowl. Stepping in between his legs, you met his eye level.
“Fourteen to fourteen.” You bragged, letting your sword rest on your shoulder. “Now, we’re tied. Again.”
A displeased grunt came from the stoic's mouth.
“This little competition of ours has been fun.” You say, molding your voice to sound bored as you exhale, standing up and putting out a hand for him. “But it looks like I will emerge victorious.”
Your boyfriend’s visage fell blank, and he rolled his eyes before grabbing your hand and lifting himself up, towering over you as he folds his arms around your waist.
Bending like a branch in the wind, Mori tightens his hold as he presses you into his chest. One of his hands came to cup your face, forcing your gaze to focus on the small beads of sweat dancing across his skin. “We’ll see.”
Then he kisses your cheek, turns you around, and pushes you back to your end of the piste. Refusing to wipe the smirk off your face, you reset, readying your sabre with new confidence.
This time, you both take the offensive, aggressively sparring as your blades crash together in hurried movements. He blocks your jabs, and you leap over his attempts to sweep you off your feet, ignoring the legality of your movements. Sweat begins to gleam on your forehead under your mask, but your smile only grows.
As he takes another step to jab at your shoulder, you lean to the side, effectively dodging his attack to see that he has left himself wide open. Victory fuels your heartbeat as you lunge, even going as far as letting out a confident hah! as you aim the point towards the side of his ribcage.
Suddenly, Mori turned on his heel. With incredible speed, he swipes your sabre away as if he knew exactly where it was going to strike. He grunts as he pushes you back, both you and your sabre stumbling to the floor with his strength, and all you can do is sit there empty-handed as he juts the end of his sword right above your heart.
Huffing, you fall, letting your back hit the piste with a disgruntled groan. You hear a dark chuckle as steps move towards your fallen body.
“That’s fifteen.” Mori confirms as he stands over you, his already-tall form looking enormous from your position on the ground.
“Yes, I can count, thank you.” You grumble, ripping off your mask for the last time.
He puts pressure on the point where his own sword pinpoints your skin, your heart fluttering for different reasons when he reveals his face. Flushed, disheveled, and confident in his win.
The way his lips slightly lifted on either side, the way his dark chocolate eyes glimmered over your exhausted form. You wanted to kiss that smug look off his face.
But you wanted to win more.
Batting the sword away, he reaches out a hand to help you up, pulling you to your feet. The Ouran Highschool Gym bustles with students. Some engage in kendo matches that Mori observes silently, most likely learning from other’s mistakes.
Picking your sabre up from the aftermath of your loss, you gently raise the end under his chin, quirking an eyebrow as he tenses and focuses his gaze back on you.
“Your opponent is in front of you, Takashi. Shouldn’t you be paying attention?”
His gaze melted into something smooth and dark. “The game is over.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of his victory.
“Far from it.” The end of your blade dips gently into his skin for a second before you flick it away, nudging his chin softly. Turning from him, you call over your shoulder. “On to the next event!”
After changing out of your fencing attire, you’re sat across from him, a(n) (f/c) yoga mat splayed out below you as he sits atop a dark blue one. Given the charged looks he gave you before you entered a dressing room, you knew that it was game on. Both of your competitive spirits had been stoked, and you only had more motivation to kick that – admittedly very nice – ass of his.
Taking a deep breath, you let the air in the gym still around you. Yoga was another one of your hobbies that you enjoyed because it gave you a chance to center yourself in the midst of chaos a certain club instilled within your life. You had picked it up when you started high school, and even your teacher said you were a natural, as you were able to really embody the purpose and true zen of yoga.
Flicking your eyes towards your boyfriend, you find that he is already looking back at you, patiently waiting for your instructions on the next round of your spontaneous competition. His eyes are warm, the smallest of smiles on his lips as they track your figure, watching as you find peace in your posture.
Shaking your head affectionately, you rock on your hips, nudging him gently with your arm. “Stop staring and listen up. I’m gonna choose a pose, and whoever holds it the longest wins.”
Mori gives you a suspicious, playful glare. “But you’ll choose something that you’re good at. That I can’t hold.”
You smile, sickeningly sweet, and Mori rolls his eyes. “Fine.”
“Great!” Your grin only grows as you call out the position: Vrschikasana, or the Scorpion. Mori’s eyes flash in recognition, remembering the weeks you spent perfecting it while he trained in his dojo, and the knots he had to massage out of you afterwards.
You narrow your eyes, planting your palms on your mat. “Unless you want to give up?”
His dark gaze hardened before something fierce ignited in his visage. “No. It’s fine.”
You laugh, the sound echoing off the gym’s expensive walls – honestly, it really over the top for a physical center. Shifting your weight onto your hands, Mori follows your movements as you both lift into a handstand before arching your back, pointing your toes as they bend to touch the top of your head.
God, you loved the burn through your hamstrings, the strength of your muscles holding yourself up, seemingly weightless off the ground. You sucked in a breath, allowing your lungs to open up, your throat to loosen, and let yourself just breathe.
“You’re smiling.” A strangled voice drenched in disbelief observes next you, and you turn your head carefully so as to not knock your balance.
The chuckle that runs through you nearly does, though.
You catch yourself as you watch Mori’s arms start to shake, his breathing a little haphazard as he puts as much effort into the stretch as he can. You also watch as his muscles flex, his shirt discarded in order to cool off from your fencing tournament, eyes traveling as the lines flinch and twitch with the commitment to keep himself off the ground.
Mori was a strong guy. Defined, agile, and built with pounds of lean muscle. But yoga took a different kind of strength. It was a test of endurance and balance, a mental strength that knew no limits.
There was a reason you and Mori worked so well together.
About ten seconds from your record time holding this position, Mori topples, his legs falling over his head as he somersaults, landing with his back flat against the mat.
You chuckle, half concerned for his health from the fall, half gloating for your win. Easily coming back down to the ground, your breath heaves a little as you try to catch your breath.
“You okay, Takashi?” You ask, it being your turn to stand over him, smirking in victory.
He just grunts, giving you a bored look.
“Crybaby.” You say, sitting next to him.
“Show off.” He retorts, warmth in his eyes.
You laugh again, the rare insult leaving the exhausted stoic’s mouth. “Wanna do one more round?”
Mori’s eyes search yours for a second before nodding. “But I get to pick.”
“Sure, that seems fair.” You say, peeling back the hair on his forehead. “Go for it.”
He gets that thoughtful look in is gaze, a glint that taught you to wait patiently by his side in silence until he was comfortable to speak.
“Poetry.”
A surprised scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. Quickly, you cover your mouth, shaking your head. “Sorry, sorry. It just…that’s not a test of strength.” You say, laughing a little. As much as you loved poetry, reading and writing it, it seemed a little out of left field.
Mori shrugged his shoulders, still laid out on the floor. “Emotional strength.” He said, smart eyes smiling up at you softly.
And how could you argue with that?
Ten minutes later, sweatpants and pump covers are thrown back on your bodies as you both sit in a small corner of the gym, legs tangled as you lean against opposing walls. Notebooks in hand, your pens fly across the page, the scribbling sounds comforting as you each get lost in your own thoughts.
When it comes time to present, you go first. When Mori realizes you wrote yours about him, about how strong he was, and how safe he made you feel, it makes his tired, sore body slump against his side of the wall. His hand reaches out for yours, listening intently to your words.
His poem had a smaller word count, but the vocabulary was moving, and you laughed gently when you realized he wrote his about you. About how strong you were, and how safe you made him feel. And he held your hand the entire time he read it to you.
Let’s just say your game ended in a tie.
.oOo.
not proofread, but i enjoyed writing it!
hope you all have a great day. just give me some time to get back into the groove of things. writing is my escape, and i truly do love it. just need to find the energy :) love you <3
I think Tamaki Suoh is a bad liar because 1. He actually means what he tells the patrons and 2. Look me in the eyes and tell me that man looks like he can lie.
