summary: Your father had arranged for you to marry Kyoya Ootori, the final agreement in a business opportunity between the two families. When you two finally meet, Kyoya explains how he has already taken a lover and cannot possibly marry you. You refuse to go against your father's word for the sake of your entire family. The Host Club works together to grow your disinterest in Kyoya only to end up falling for one of their own: Hikaru Hitachiin.
series: chapter 1
author's note: No A.I. was used in the making of this fan fiction.
word count: 1.1K
Chapter 2: No Chance
Now I'm really crying. I let it all loose, every bit of water in my body gets released through my tear ducts. I run towards the bathrooms of the gardens leaving Kyoya behind. If he were my real fiancé he would run after me.
I stand in front of the mirrors attempting to collect myself and dousing my tears away with their brown paper towels. If these things have a use I've never been able to find it, it's like my tears sit on top instead of absorbing into the paper. If my dress wasn't soaked right now I'd be using it as a tissue. These towels barely soak up the sopping wet dress that now adorns my body. I just keep dabbing the paper towels but get frustrated and start rubbing it. What is the point? I already look like a drowned rat, Kyoya won't care for me now. I can see little bits of the paper towel embellishing my navy blue chiffon. I should've worn a dress I cared less about. Suddenly the door swings open and I crouch down in embarrassment. Someone must be checking on me maybe a passerby but I swore Dad said the Ootori's had rented the garden out so we'd be alone.
"Are you alright Y/-miss? I brought some towels for you." The sharp voice tells me.
I start crying again and turn away from the mystery figure in embarrassment. "Th-thank you, could you hand them here please?" I put my hand out while keeping my head turned away. They're so soft and plush I could die, this must be my knight in shining armor. I start by wiping off my face. Now that my face is dry I can feel the tears come to a halt. I shuffle the towel throughout my hair and the sniffling stops too. Now that I've composed myself I stand up to dab the towel all over my dress and face the mystery figure. I throw the towel around my shoulders like a cape and turn around. He looks just as stunned as I am. "Thank you I'm feeling much better now." I can't help but smile. I turn my head slightly, trying not to stare too hard but there's something so familiar about the man in front of me.
The orange-haired man shakes his head which breaks whatever enthrallment he was under. "R-right, I'm glad to hear that." He turns slightly, his cheeks now flushed. His familiarity finally becomes clear to me. He is one of the twins from the Host Club that Kyoya runs. I start to piece it all together. Kyoya placed the Hitachiin brothers nearby to throw water on me when I declined his rejection! He wanted to embarrass me and to that I say mission accomplished. I always knew he was dirty and manipulative but this proves it. But then, I wonder why would one of his accomplices would be in here now? Perhaps to apologize or maybe Kyoya had told them to stop when I was explaining myself... I remember back to when he mouthed something. In the split second before I ran away I remember the look of utter shock run across his face. I don't think he expected this outcome either. I assumed this was a school boy prank, not an inside job.
"You're friends with Kyoya aren't you? One of the Hitachiin brothers?" I can feel my cheeks swelling with anger. I look down to avoid his gaze. If I look at his face a moment longer I am going to burst. Knowing he's so close to Kyoya only makes this whole turn of events grow sour. He didn't come here to check on me, he came to make sure I wouldn't go around gossiping about it. His family will probably make me sign an NDA! I have to get out of here. The bathroom feels hot and steamy now from my growing resentment. I need to take a deep breath outside these walls.
"Y-yes. L-listen Y/N it was nev-" He knows I found him out and he knows my name? Is it possible they had a whole discussion about me? It seems everyone from my parents to my classmates has meetings about me. I didn't ask to be Kyoya's wife, I don't even know the first thing about him. I push past the man in front of me and rush towards the door. Before I can even think about reaching for the handle, he tugs at my wrist and I find myself turned back around in front of him. "KYOYA DIDN'T KNOW YOUR FAMILY NEEDED THE MONEY." He closes his eyes when he speaks this loudly, just like I had done to Kyoya at the table. My eyes grow soft but confusion still lingers.
"What? How is that possible?" It seemed so obvious to me but maybe you can't tell how much we need this from the outside. Didn't his family discuss the details of the arrangement and why I might need to marry him? Does Kyoya think my family arranged this because I have a crush on him!?
He stares off to the wall and sighs, "His family is always trying to sell him off like this. They almost never turn down an offer. Believe me, you aren't the first girl this has happened to but I hope you can be the last." He looks back at me, smiling. "Kyoya and my brother, Kaoru, are going to get married. I'm really happy for them and we hoped the water would be the easiest and quickest way to get rid of you. That is, until you told Kyoya about your financial needs..."
"That makes you Hikaru, right?" I say suddenly.
"Y-yea." He takes a step back in embarrassment. I still don't think he's used to being recognized from his twin after all these years. "We're sorry you got caught in the crossfire, I hope you can forgive us Y/N."
"What am I supposed to tell my father? He was counting on me." I look down again like before. Staring at the ground keeps me from overthinking.
That familiar touch returns as Hikaru lifts my chin up. His face closes in on mine. "We will find a way Y/N." I get lost in his hazel eyes, they're so warm and comforting. Even though my wet clothes make me freezing in this air-conditioned bathroom, I wouldn't want to be anywhere else in the world. Hikaru lets go of my chin and grabs my hand, leading me to the door. "L-let's talk to the boss, alright?" He must mean Kyoya. As we step outside, he drops my hand. I try not to let it faze me and grab the towel around my neck for comfort. Flower petals fall all around us succumbing to the breeze. This would be such a romantic place under different circumstances. We just keep walking down the concrete path side by side, averting our gaze from one another. In the distance, I can see Kyoya and Kaoru holding hands. At least some people are enjoying what this garden has to offer. What a sweet couple, I can't believe I almost came between them.
x reader / ships / platonic all welcome
fluff, angst, and drama all okay (just specify)
if they’re not listed, feel free to ask anyway — i might still take it
Hii! I’m new to your blog, I randomly found your OHSHC posts while scrolling through the tag, I loved it a lot!! I wanted to ask if requests are still open for that fandom on here? It’s okay if they aren’t! But seriously your writing is GREAT! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
thank you!!! i’m not writing much atm but if you send a request i will eventually get to it!! i write requests that i personally like the most first, as i struggle to write vague requests as i’m not really sure what the requester wanted when the submission is so undetailed, so if you send me a detailed-ish request and i like it, i’d be happy to write!!!
i could use a request that removes my writers block atm lmaoo
Do you think you would write for ouran High School Host Club again or not ( no pressure or anything
Hiyaaa reader~ thanks for reaching out abt this. I’ll take the opportunity to address recent developments:)
I’m sure you’ve noticed my the recent shift in muses over the last year.
This isn’t to say I’ll never go back to writing for Ouran. In fact, I have been but just in private bcs I haven’t felt like the works have been up to my personal standard as of late.
With the way I write, I tend to obsess over whether the cast’s characterization in my fics align with the characterization in the source material (which is naturally limited by my personal interpretation, I have no issue against others’ interpretations) and since I haven’t watched the anime or read the manga in a while, I’ve felt less and less confident in writing for it 😅
Tldr, I’ll get back to Ouran when I relapse 😋
I just feel this process is necessary to me bcs I highly respect and regard the series. It’s been my comfort and inspiration for years (heck, it’s even the reason why is started writing fics in the first place 🥹), and I deeply, truly mean it when I say I just want to do it justice^^
Thank you for your support and encouragement!! My heart is glad to see and know ppl still care to read my Ouran fics and interact with the fandom at all hehe.
You’re loud, he’s quiet. It might not make sense to his friends, but you’re ok with that.
everyone expects you to be intimidating.
you walk into the host club smiling too wide, laughing too loud, waving at the twins like you have known them forever. your voice fills the room. tamaki blinks. kyoya pauses his typing. honey stares for half a second before grinning and immediately liking you.
and then there is mori.
standing behind honey, arms crossed, unreadable as ever.
people glance between the two of you and do a double take.
you talk with your hands. mori barely talks at all.
you bounce on your heels. mori is still as a mountain.
you smile at everyone. mori’s expression never changes.
“that’s his girlfriend?” someone whispers, not quietly enough.
mori hears it. of course he does. he always hears everything.
he does not react.
you do.
you turn, walk straight back to him, and slip your fingers into his like it is the most natural thing in the world. you lean into his side, cheek brushing his arm.
“mori,” you say brightly, “they’re staring again.”
he looks down at you. just slightly. just enough that only you notice.
“ignore it,” he says.
his thumb presses once against your knuckles. grounding. familiar.
later, when the club ends and the lights dim, the world shifts.
your laugh softens. your movements slow. you tug mori toward one of the couches, crawling into his lap without asking. his hands come to your waist immediately, sure and gentle, like they have always belonged there.
alone, he is different.
he presses his forehead to yours.
he kisses you slowly, reverently, like he is memorizing you.
he listens when you ramble, eyes soft, mouth curved just enough to count as a smile.
you trace the scar on his hand with your thumb.
“everyone thinks we don’t make sense,” you murmur.
“we do,” he says instantly.
no hesitation. no doubt.
he brushes your hair back, fingers lingering at your neck. his voice drops, quieter than usual.
“you’re loud so i don’t have to be,” he says. “and when you’re tired, i’ll be quiet for both of us.”
your chest tightens.
you kiss him again, smiling into it.
outside, people see contrast.
inside, there is balance.
and mori, strong and silent, holds you like you are the soft place he was always meant to rest.
☆ Mori "acts of service"s his way into a relationship
☆ Morinozuka "Mori" Takashi x reader, 6.2k words
☆ fluff, getting together, cw for mentioned classism, y/n used for reader
Tears pricked the corners of your eyes as you attempted to drag your soaked form out of the fountain, the cruel giggles of the girls that pushed you in still ringing in your ears even as their yellow skirts disappear from your line of sight. Just your luck, the second week of school and you'd already been identified as a viable bullying victim. Biting your lip to keep the tears at bay, you hauled your bookbag out of the water before stepping out yourself, more worried about keeping its contents intact than the fact that you looked (and felt) half-drowned.
Sinking to your knees on the cobblestone, you cautiously opened up the bag before breathing a sigh of relief. None of your textbooks looked damaged, your notebooks were only a little damp at the edges, and your wallet was still secured inside. You silently sent a thank you up to the universe for giving your past self the idea to splurge on a waterproof bag before the new school year. While you may have had rainy days in mind when you bought it, it apparently being bully-proof was a very welcome bonus. You were already here on scholarship, there was no way you could afford to regularly replace your things. Especially since it looked like you already had a target on your back for the crime of daring to sully Ouran's prestigious halls with your commoner self. Stupid rich brats…
A long shadow fell over you. You cursed under your breath and braced yourself for more abuse, clutching your bookbag to your chest as you lifted your head defiantly. But instead of the mocking visage of a count's daughter or a mogul's son, your gaze met cool grey eyes and an impassive expression. You blinked up at the newcomer, cataloging him from the tips of his spiky black hair to his immaculately polished shoes. He was big, for a lack of a better descriptor. Handsome too, in a cold and stoic sort of way. Though there wasn't so much as a wrinkle in his uniform, he had the glow of someone who had just finished a rigorous round of exercising, the sun glinting off the leftover droplets in his hair from his post-workout shower. The sudden sound of his voice jolted you out of your scrutinizing train of thought.
"Are you alright?" he asked, cocking his head slightly as he looked down at you. His voice rumbled out of his chest and washed over you, the timbre deep and commanding. As though triggered by his question, you quickly became hyperaware of the way the spring wind hit your wet clothing, forcing a series of shivers out of you. Your hair was plastered to your forehead and steadily dripping down your back, and you were certain you were kneeling in your own personal puddle of fountain water. The realization of the sorry sight you presented, especially in comparison to his perfectly kept appearance, had you holding your bag tighter and looking away from him, half-heartedly praying the ground would open up and swallow you whole.
"Do I look alright?" you ground out, teeth gritted as you pointedly kept your gaze trained away from him. Hopefully he'd get offended and buzz off so you could finally get some space to put your pride back together and start walking home.
Unfortunately, you so rarely get what you wish for.
The tall boy let out a soft "hm" before dropping into a squat, putting the two of you on the same level. The duffel bag that was slung over his shoulder hit the ground with a smack and you internally cringed at the casual carelessness rich people seemed to be prone to. He reached out to touch you before apparently thinking better of it, shifting instead to put himself back into your line of sight. A very petty part of you was tempted to turn your head away from him again, but all things considered he was the nicest person you'd met at this school so far, regardless of how low that bar was.
"That was a silly question. I apologize." That damn voice again. It had a soothing quality that, if anything, annoyed you further. Not only was he born into wealth you probably couldn't even fathom, but he had to look and sound like a dream too? The universe was infinite in its unfairness.
You turned your attention back to him only to notice he was digging around in his bag, his face set in concentration as he searched for…whatever it was he was looking for. You heard the sound of wood knocking on wood as he rummaged through his things (what on earth did he have in there?) Before you could voice any coherent thought or opinion about his actions, fluffy white material filled your vision.
"I know it's not much, but I swear it's clean, and you should dry off as best you can. It wouldn't do for you to fall ill and have to miss school at the beginning of the term." It took all your willpower not to gape and stare at his display of generosity. It was a trick, or a prank, or something. It had to be. No one that went to this school looked like they even knew the meaning of the word compassion. But as a hard gust of wind cut clean through your clothing and chilled you to the bone, you figured you might as well take your chances.
You set aside your bookbag and gently, as if it was a dangerous explosive rigged to blow any moment, you took the towel from his hands. It was soft, softer than you thought a towel had any right to be, and felt heavenly in your hands as you turned it over. A flash of gold caught your eye, and you brought the towel closer to your face to inspect it. On one corner, the letters "MT" were immaculately embroidered in gleaming thread.
"MT?" you repeated aloud, your eyes flicking up to his. "Are those your initials?"
The boy nodded. "Yes. My name is Morinozuka Takashi. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."
You huffed, caught somewhere between ebbing irritation and creeping amusement. "Well you're certainly the first person to feel that way, at least among your peers." You lifted the towel to your hair, deciding to do something about the small river carving a valley down your back. Mori moved from a squat to a sit, clearly thinking nothing of the possibility that the ground might dirty his uniform. He waited patiently as you methodically dried off, the relief of going from dripping to just damp clearly evident on your face. Once you were done you made eye contact with him, a grateful smile gracing your features.
"Thank you, Morinozuka. I'll wash this and return it to you as soon as I can, I promise." The look in your eyes was earnest, but he waved a hand at you as if to dispel the notion.
"You can call me Mori. Also don't bother yourself. You can keep that one, I've got plenty."
"What? No, I couldn't possibly-"
"I insist."
"Well I insist on paying you back somehow. I don't like owing people, and it's obvious you've done me a pretty big solid here. So, say what you want and if it's within my power and my budget I'll make it happen."
Mori cracked a smile at that, small but genuine, and you realized with a mix of delight and horror that the expression only made him more handsome. "Well, I'll have to take some time to think of something I want that you can provide, but to start I'd like to know your name as well."
You nodded, figuring it was only proper that the two of you be actually introduced. "It's Y/N."
He cocked his head again. "And that's your given name?"
"Yes."
"What's your family name?"
"Does it matter? It's not attached to any titles."
"Of course it matters. Not being wealthy doesn't make you undeserving of respect."
It's stupid, really. The sentence was objectively true, baby's first lesson in class consciousness. It was the barest of minimums. But after two weeks of being surrounded by droves of people who genuinely believed that the circumstances of their births made them deserving of special treatment and gave them permission to trample over the less fortunate for their amusement, it didn't feel like a given. It was grounding to hear this boy, dressed in clothes that probably cost more than both your parents would make in a month, easily and freely admit that he wasn't more important than you because of his last name. Reminded you that a whole world existed beyond Ouran's gilded walls, and when the year was up and you'd served your time the real world would be ready to rescue you from this cherry blossom fever dream.
"Alright then. It's L/N." The smile you gave him was soft, and it only grew as you heard him repeat after you, the syllables of your name rolling around his mouth.
"So you're the new third year transfer everyone is talking about?" he asked, his eyes glimmering with interest. "The whole class is still buzzing with the news of this year's scholarship winners." You tried not to grimace at the thought of the entire third year class talking about you behind your back, but you must not have been very successful if the way Mori's expression turned sympathetic was anything to go by.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up. I'm sure it's been a difficult adjustment for you."
"Difficult is putting it mildly." You blew out a shaky breath, trying to focus on the way the late afternoon sun filtered through the jet black strands of Mori's hair and not on your own complicated feelings about your enrollment. "When we got the results of our end of year exams from my second year, I was second overall. The person that beat me had also nailed the Ouran scholarship, which was fine by me, really. But then it came out that they had cheated on the exams and their scores were nullified, making me top of the class. I'm still not entirely sure why I inherited their scholarship as well as their rank. Maybe the board of directors was feeling particularly philanthropic that day, who knows. What matters is me and my folks realized there's no better shining star on a resume than a diploma from this place, so we got our paperwork in order and I was shipped here. I feel like I should be grateful that such an incredible windfall came my way, but now I'm in a school where I can't even afford the uniform and I feel like a fish in the desert."
Mori nodded as you concluded your mini-speech. "I won't say I understand where you're coming from, because it would do your feelings a disservice for me to pretend our backgrounds are similar. But I do know that you earned your position here, and you shouldn't let anyone tell you otherwise." Mori lifted himself from the ground at last, slinging his duffel bag back over his shoulders before offering a hand to help you up as well. You hesitated for a moment, but the sincerity in his gaze banished any of your lingering doubt. You placed the gifted towel in your bag before slipping it on and ran a quick hand over your clothes, trying to return to as presentable a state as possible. Then you reached up and took his hand.
Your palm was smaller than his, and the warmth of him began to leech into you almost immediately. You stifled a soft yelp as he hauled you up with shocking ease, bringing you to a standing position with very little work on your part. Almost desperate to keep what was left of your dignity intact, you moved to extract your hand, but he held you firm. The quizzical look you shot him was countered by another one of his small smiles.
"L/N, I believe I've changed my mind. I would like to cash in that favor now." Your eyes widened slightly at his admission, but you gestured at him to continue. "I want you to call me Takashi."
You couldn't fight back the laugh that burst out of you then. A single clear sound that echoed through the courtyard before you slapped a hand over your mouth, though your eyes still crinkled with mirth. Mori waited patiently for your outburst to die down, the smile never leaving his face.
"Really?" you managed to say at last. "That's all you want?"
A nod. "That's all."
Your smile then was the largest yet, pure and unrestrained. "Okay. I'm not one to look a gift horse in the mouth. From this day forward, you're Takashi and I'm Y/N."
"You'd let me use your given name as well?"
"Why not? It might be presumptious of me, but I think we're friendly enough, no?"
Something unreadable flashed in his eyes before they returned to a neutral state. "Yes, I'd say we are."
Mori walked with you to the gate of the school, even going so far as to offer to call a driver to take you home, but you insisted that you'd encroached on his kindness enough for one day. You walked home that day with a warm feeling in your chest that had nothing to do with the setting sun.
Whoever your guardian angel was, that son of a bitch was a real slacker.
You gazed forlornly through the library window at the downpour outside, which had already been raging for hours and showed no signs of letting up soon. The forecast for the day had been clear, sunny skies, so like any sane person you'd left your umbrella at home. Well, as luck (or lack thereof) would have it, the weatherman was a good for nothing liar, and the weather had taken a sharp turn right before classes let out for the day. Most of the student population had simply hurried to their limos and sped off to spend the rest of the rainy day in their heated homes, but your only mode of transportation to and from school happened to be your own two legs. It wasn't even as though you lived far away, but the 20 minute walk looked deeply unappealing as the rain fell in thick, gray sheets.
You had hoped to wait it out by getting some extra studying in, but nearly two hours later you were out of homework and the storm still raged on. Groaning, you slammed your books shut and started packing your things, resigned to putting on your big girl pants and trying not to eat shit as you sprinted home.
Preoccupied with your own misery as you left the library, you rounded a corner and walked face first into a solid wall. You barely managed to avoid being knocked on your ass, stumbling back a couple of steps and cursing as you rubbed at your nose. You looked up to shoot a petty glare at the offending object only to realize what you'd mistaken for a part of the building was actually a human being, and a very specific one at that.
Mori was standing before you, looking down at you with a mixture of confusion and concern. He had his familiar duffel bag over one shoulder, and a large umbrella in his left hand. You immediately felt butterflies (and a touch of envy) erupt in your stomach, even as mortification began to creep up your spine.
Unfortunately for your blooming crush newfound friendship, the fact that you'd caught Mori alone that afternoon was nothing short of a miracle. During school hours him and his cousin were attached at the hip, not to mention his dedicated gaggle of fangirls that wouldn't dream of letting you anywhere near him. The Host Club (which you'd been shocked to discover he was a member of) kept his afternoons full as well. The most you had managed to squeeze from him in 3 weeks were a few smiles and nods before and after class, so having his full attention again was a delightfully overwhelming sensation. You scrambled to straighten out your clothes and hair and make yourself look like you hadn't just been moping about in the library for hours.
"Takashi! I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there!" You said, trying to inject some cheer into your voice as you apologized. Mori shook his head and took a step closer to you.
"Please, the fault is mine. I should have been more aware. I must admit though, it's good to see you again Y/N."
Ohhh he was trying to kill you. He was on a mission to make you spontaneously combust. You let out a nervous chuckle and looked away, praying he wouldn't pick up on how out of sorts you felt. "We see each other in class every day, don't we?"
"Yes, but we haven't had a chance to truly speak with each other. I've found myself missing your presence."
A 20 minute interaction 3 weeks ago and he was missing you? Maybe your guardian angel needed a raise after all. Not trusting yourself to respond without saying something crazy, you turned your attention instead to the rain still battering the school's windows, a frown returning to your features as you were reminded of your predicament. Following your gaze, Mori's eyes darted to the window, then back to you.
"Are you planning on walking home in such heavy rain?" Mori asked, his brows furrowed slightly. You heaved a sigh.
"I don't exactly have a wealth of choices. Of all days not to bring my umbrella…"
Mori seemed to make up his mind then, and held out his umbrella to you. But before he could open his mouth to verbally offer it, you beat him to the punch.
"No. Absolutely not. I refuse to let you inconvenience yourself for me a second time. Keep your umbrella."
"I can't let you walk home unprotected in this weather."
"I don't want to be your charity case, Takashi."
His lips quirked down into a small frown and he opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, his grip on the umbrella tightening. After a few seconds of obvious inner turmoil, he ironed out his expression and fixed you with a piercing stare.
"At the very least, let me walk you home." It wasn't a request, if anything it was a demand. You wondered if he was capable of selfishness at all.
Just as you opened your mouth to deny him, a loud clap of thunder rang out that you swore made the building shake a little. You glanced at the window, then at his umbrella, and the protest died in your throat.
You sighed and adjusted the strap on your bookbag. "Okay. I can see there's no use trying to change your mind. Just, I don't know, don't get your hopes up about the state of my house."
Relief flashed over Mori's features. He followed you as you began making your way towards the school's entrace, perfectly matching his long stride to your pace.
"To be honest," he said, his tone contemplative, "I don't think I would care if you lived in a shack under a bridge. Nothing could make me look down on you."
You could feel a prickling heat creep up your cheeks. Was it the Host Club that taught him to drop compliments as easily as drawing breaths? He never even seemed remotely fazed by anything that came out of him mouth, no matter how flustered it made you.
The two of you stepped outside, Mori's sturdy umbrella already up and shielding you from the downpour. It took a bit of maneuvering to keep you both dry, considering the height difference and the fact you had to walk a half step ahead to lead him to your home, but soon the two of you fell into a good rhythm.
"Do you live very far?" Mori asked, eyes taking in a part of town he'd either never seen or only noted in passing as his driver sped him off to more important locations. You shook your head, chancing a look back at him.
"No, it's only about 20 minutes from the school, plus we're basically halfway anyway so we should get there soon." He nodded at your response and adjusted his hold on the umbrella, stepping a little closer to you in the process. You tried to ignore the shiver that ran through you at the proximity.
"You know, Takashi," you began, fidgeting with your bag strap to give your hands something to do. "it feels like you're always saving me from water based situations." A nervous giggle left your mouth as you glanced sideways at him. He let out a hard exhale and his mouth twitched up, but it was more than enough to send your stomach's resident butterflies into a frenzy.
"Maybe you angered a water spirit in your past life, and now I have to rescue you from its wrath." His tone was even, but the mirth in his eyes as he glanced at you was clear as day. You rewarded his efforts with a soft laugh and a smile, and your heart sped up as he mirrored your expression.
True to your word, it wasn't long until the two of you came upon your street. You pointed out which house was yours and Mori dutifully walked you to it, not dropping the umbrella until you were both safe under the shade of your covered porch. You were suddenly extremely grateful that your father had insisted on a more western look for your home.
"I really can't thank you enough for this, Takashi. It would've been miserable trying to get home on my own." Mori nodded, accepting your thanks with humble grace.
"It was nothing, truly. Like I said, I enjoy your company." The heat again. You busied yourself with fishing your keys out of your bag and unlocking the door, hoping to hide your flustered expression from his view. Once the door was open, you looked back at him.
"Aren't you going to call your driver to come get you?"
He nodded again and reached into his pocket to grab his phone. You gave him the exact address to relay to his chauffeur before moving to head inside. You were halfway over the threshold before you noticed he wasn't following and turned back to look at him. He was standing where you'd left him and staring at your retreating form, rigid as a statue.
"Takashi," you called out, trying to shake him from his weird trance. "It's cold out here. You should come in while you wait for the car to arrive."
Mori's mouth thinned, and you swore his cheeks were dusted with pink. "Is that…I mean, your parents aren't home. It wouldn't be proper."
You would've laughed if he didn't look so serious. "My folks are doctors, they're never home. Besides, it's only for a little while. You're not going to try anything, right?"
His eyes widened at your implication and the pink turned to a deeper red. "I would never!"
"Then there's no issue. Come on, I can make us some tea." You gestured for him to join you, but he simply stayed rooted where he was.
"It wouldn't be proper," he repeated, though he sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than you. With a sigh, you closed the door and moved to stand close to him.
"If you're going to wait outside, I'll wait with you. You're on my property which makes me the host, and my mom would have my head if she found out I left a guest out in the cold."
"You don't need to."
"I want to."
For a long moment, Mori just stared at you. He opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, the blush on his cheeks spreading to the tips of his ears. Eventually, he seemed to resign himself to your stubbornness. He dropped his bag on the floor, shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the outer wall of your home. He turned his face away from you, content to kill time by watching the rain fall.
He looked ethereal with the glow of the streetlights reflecting off the wet pavement and onto his skin, his hair slightly damp from a few miscalculations with the umbrella. You were momentarily seized by a longing so great it was almost terrifying, crawling up from your stomach to shove aside your lungs and nestle itself next to your heart. Before your brain could catch up to the whims of your body, you had already closed the distance between you and him. His gaze snapped to yours, and the gentle heave of his chest stopped. His gray eyes looked almost black, twin singularities ready to consume you whole. Slowly, you brought your hand up to tug at his unbuttoned blazer, and before you could blink he was off the wall and on you.
His perpetually warm palms cradled your face with heartrending gentleness as he curled around you, his large frame occupying your every sense. One hand was fisted in his jacket, the other grasped at his shirt. His earthy cologne filled your nose, and his breaths sounded louder than any thunder. His eyes bored into you, pinning you, dissecting you, picking apart everything you were and had ever been. Then he glanced down at your lips and you were gone.
You couldn't say with certainty whether you initiated the kiss or he did, but in the end it was a pointless line of questioning as both parties were eager participants. His mouth slotted against yours like it was meant to be there, and your lips moved against his like they were made to do so. One of his hands slipped from your cheek to hold the back of your neck, and it only served to melt your brain further.
Just as your lips parted to deepen the kiss, the rumble of an engine startled you both out of the solitary bubble you had created. A sleek Cadillac rolled down your street, and it didn't take a genius to figure out who it belonged to. Mori let out out a disappointed huff as he disentangled from you, his features lined with reluctance as he straightened out his clothing and hefted his bag over his shoulder once more. The car rolled to a stop in front of your house and you silently cursed the driver. Was a spontaneous road blockade too much to ask for?
You turned back to the boy in front of you, wondering briefly if he would stay the night if you begged. Before your frazzled mind could put any half-baked plans into action, Mori was squeezing your shoulder, a reassuring smile on his face.
He leaned down to murmur softly in your ear. "I'll see you at school," he said before moving past you, down the porch steps and into the car. You watched the driver rev the engine and peel out of your neighborhood, your eyes glued to the vehicle until it disappeared around the corner. Groaning, you scrubbed a hand over your face as you turned to head into your own home. It was going to be a long weekend.
You had practically skipped into school Monday morning, eager to see Mori again after the weekend had dragged by. But he wouldn't meet your eye when you walked into class, and he was noticeably absent from all the places the two of you usually crossed paths. No matter what you tried you couldn't get even a shred of recognition from him, much less catch him alone. Confusion, anger, and more than a little hurt bubbled up in you at his blatant avoidance. Did you do something? Had he gotten cold feet? The uncertainty made your stomach churn and kept you up at night, mind racing with possibilities. Each conjured scenario was more heartbreaking than the last and the speculation only served to make you feel even worse.
By Friday your patience was on its last leg. You resolved to get to the bottom of this one way or another, for the sake of your peace of mind if nothing else. A part of you wanted to have faith in him, to extend him the benefit of a doubt and believe there was a totally benign reason for his odd behavior. The rest of you was rooted in reality.
One of your mother's patients had gifted her a voucher for a high end boutique that she had immediately passed on to you, insisting that a young lady should update her wardrobe at every opportunity. The district the shop was located in was far outside your usual stomping ground (and usual budget) but the weather was good and your Saturday afternoon was free, so you reasoned you might as well embrace the distraction.
As if your frustration had pierced the heavens and sent a message straight to the universe, you got off the bus and immediately caught sight of a familiar duffel bag and head of spiky black hair. He was dressed casually, sporting only a black tank top and athletic pants, but the height was unmistakable. He had his back was to you as he made a beeline for what you assumed was the kendo dojo you had spotted on the way here, but you'd be damned if you let this opportunity slip through your fingers.
The shopping trip long forgotten, you channeled a week's worth of irritation into your legs and ran him down, all but throwing yourself in his path. As predicted, his well-trained reflexes kicked in and he skid to a stop to avoid the sudden appearance of an obstacle in his path, giving you the chance to watch his face morph from confusion to dread in real time.
The way guilt painted every inch of Mori's features, one would think he was on trial for murder. The way anger painted every inch of yours only served to lend credibility to that assumption.
"We meet again at last. Were you banking on avoiding me forever, Takashi?" Despite the sour taste his name left in your mouth, you couldn't muster any real animosity towards him. All you had to draw from was a deep well of hurt, one you hoped this conversation would get rid of, one way or another.
Mori's grip on his bag tightened and his eyes darted between you and the rest of the sidewalk, as if considering whether to just sidestep you and continue on. You would hardly be an obstacle if he was really intent on getting past you. But he remained rooted in place, his voice low and resigned as he spoke.
"It's good to see you, Y/N." The nerve of him to say that while he refused to focus on you, his dark eyes looking at everything but your form right in front of him, stoked the fires of your righteous fury.
"Oh I'm sure. Tell me, what did you win?"
Mori's face morphed back to confusion, and he finally settled his gaze upon you. "Win? What do you mean?"
"Come on, Takashi, it's not my first day on Earth and it certainly isn't my first day dealing with immature boys. It was a bet right? 'Win the heart of the transfer and win a magnificent prize!', something like that, yes? Well I want to know what the prize was!" You couldn't quite discern the emotion on his face, but it looked vaguely like horror.
"It wasn't…I wouldn't…there was no bet."
"Oh so you ditched me all on your own, then? Even fucking better." You could feel the telltale tightness in your chest and pressure in your eyes that signaled an oncoming crying fit, but you suppressed it with all your might. You wouldn't shed tears for him. At least, not in front of him.
Mori took a half step forwards, the hand not holding his bag extended slightly, like he was fighting the urge to touch you. "Y/N, it's not like that, I swear. Please let me explain."
You crossed your arms and held your ground. "I'm listening. Prove that you weren't trying to make a fool out of me."
Mori inhaled deeply before letting it out long and slow. He ran a hand through his unruly locks and you really should've received a Medal of Honor for holding yourself back as the movement caused his arms to flex sinfully.
"I…I'm sorry, first and foremost. I was selfish. I was so caught up in my own emotions that I failed to consider how my shortcomings would affect you. It pains me to have caused you pain. Please forgive me." He bowed his head to you, and the genuine hurt in his voice gave you pause. He certainly didn't sound like someone who had masterminded a plan to embarass you, but you'd withhold judgement until his reasons were revealed. You silently gestured for him to continue and he nodded, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.
"To make it simple I was…" He trailed off and took another deep breath, gearing himself up to confess what had been weighing on him. "I was overwhelmed by the magnitude of my feelings towards you. When I first saw you, sitting by that fountain, I thought you were beautiful, but it wasn't deeper than that. At least, I convinced myself it wasn't. But after our conversation, I found myself thinking of you constantly. As a host I interact with pretty girls every day, but their smiles never affected me like yours had. I treasured every interaction between us, no matter how small. And then last week, the fact that you trusted me to get you home safely, being so close to you…I was besides myself. I acted…irrationally."
"Do you regret it?" You asked, almost scared to hear the answer.
"No." His answer was quick and firm, leaving no room for doubt or second thought. Your heart fluttered in your chest. "No I don't, but I think that's what scared me so much. I'm not accustomed to wanting things. I know that sounds callous, but I'm being literal. I've never had a great deal of wishes or desires. I believed I was entirely content with what I had." His hands moved to rest on your shoulders, and you didn't move to stop him. You barely dared to breathe.
"I was wrong. Y/N, I was so wrong. I want you with everything I am. I know you have every right to be upset with me after my behavior this week, but if you give me the chance I'll make it up to you tenfold for as long as you'll have me."
You didn't think. In truth, your mind had been blank from the moment he said he wanted you. You gazed at his face, his perfect, handsome face, carved from stone and glowing in the afternoon sun, and your body moved on pure instinct. You cupped his face and pressed your lips into his.
The kiss was softer than the first, but no less sweet. Vaguely you registered his arms wrapping around you, drawing you into him. He pulled away much earlier than you would have liked, but the smile on his face soothed your disappointment.
"I assume I'm forgiven?" He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. You snorted and lightly smacked his bicep, though made no move to exit his embrace.
"Yeah, yeah, you're off the hook. Also, have you ever considered writing romance novels?"
A sharp exhale. "You think I could?"
"You have a gift, my dear."
He chuckled and, to your dismay, extracted his form from yours. He grabbed his bag from where it had fallen (when had he dropped it? You had no clue) and glanced at the nearby dojo.
"As much as I loathe to leave you, I do have a prior engagement." You frowned, more than a little reluctant to part so soon after learning your feelings were returned. Then, a lightbulb moment.
You reached into your back pocket and dug out the voucher. You gave Mori a glowing smile and batted your eyelashes, waving the coupon like it was the winning lottery ticket.
"You could go. I won't stop you. But there will be more kendo practices in the future. I'm offering you the chance of a lifetime here."
He quirked an eyebrow. "The chance to do what, exactly?"
"The chance to take your girlfriend shopping and pick out my outfit for our first date."
You could just barely hear his sharp inhale but it had you suppressing a smirk all the same. Hook, line, and sinker.
His eyes darted back to the dojo, then to you again, and you could tell his mind was made up. You extended your hand to him and he took it without a moment's hesitation. The grin you flashed him as you began to tug him in the direction of the boutique was near blinding.
"And what exactly are we doing on this first date, dearest?" He asked, matching your pace easily. You shrugged.
"I figured we could plan it on the way."
He laughed and intertwined your fingers with his, and the warmth that bloomed in you had nothing to do with the afternoon sun.
SUMMARY: Somehow, discovering a disheveled Kyoya in a commoner mall was only the second strangest thing Haruhi found out that day. Your existence took the number one spot.
A/N: I love secret relationship trope so much... Tell me Kyoya wouldn't keep his relationship under wraps.
This was far from the worst day Kyoya has ever had, but. Well. Today was not making it into the top 10 of best days for sure.
He was dragged to a labyrinth in his sleep and then subsequently abandoned by his friends. In a terrible outfit, no less. Kyoya wasn’t sure if he was relieved to have Haruhi rescue him or if he was mortified that she had to see him in this state.
Haruhi wasn’t sure either. She was in awe watching Kyoya eat a burger— it was like entering an alternate timeline. Compared to the rest of the host club, Kyoya was always more knowledgeable on the lives of commoners, but in a superficial way. He knew statistics and basic facts about regular people like a child knew facts about dinosaurs. Without Haruhi, Kyoya was as disconnected from the real world as everyone else at Ouran.
“… Kyoya?” The pair looked up at the voice calling Kyoya’s name. For a second Haruhi thought someone from the host club finally came back to look for their missing parent, but the person standing in front of them was a stranger to Haruhi. They had a bag of groceries and a confused expression. An utterly normal person.
The strangest part was that Kyoya clearly recognized this person. “(Name)?” His eyes reflected the same confused expression that the bystander had.
“Why… are you dressed like that?”
Now Kyoya was sure that mortification was the strongest emotion he felt today.
“Kyoya-senpai, you know this person?” Haruhi tried to figure out what kind of person would be shopping for groceries at a commoner’s mall but also be acquainted with the shadow prince of the host club. Related to the owner of the mall? No, that was too small scale for the level of high society that Ouran students dealt with. Them being related to the CEO that owns every mall chain across Japan was more likely.
He hesitated to answer, gaze lingering on the person in front of them. Kyoya carefully put down his burger before pushing up his glasses and stating matter-o-factly, “yes. Haruhi, this is my partner, (Name). (Name), this is the Haruhi Fujioka I told you about.”
Haruhi blinked. Partner? She went through her known information about Kyoya, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, but nothing pointed to him having a partner. Especially not a commoner! But the living proof was standing right next to their table and Haruhi was miffed, to say the least. “Partner?! Kyoya-senpai, you have a partner?!”
“Must you sound so shocked?” Kyoya retorted, and there was some earnesty in his otherwise sarcastic remark. It wasn’t like she ever asked him if he had a partner. Everyone just assumed he didn’t.
(Name) bowed following the introduction. “Fujioka-san,” they smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to meet you.”
They really were a normal person. Dressed in plain clothes and unassuming. And polite. Haruhi realized early on at her transfer to Ouran that polite was rarely a word to describe the children of the wealthy and elite. Haruhi stood up to bow in return. “It’s nice to meet you too, (Name)-san. Sorry, I hope my reaction wasn’t rude. I had no idea Kyoya-senpai had a partner. Do you want to sit with us?”
Before (Name) had a chance to respond, Kyoya already grabbed a chair from an empty table and pulled it over. One exchanged glance with Kyoya was all it took to get (Name) to sit down. “Don’t worry about it, Fujioka-san. Kyoya doesn’t really tell people about me.”
“Please clarify that it is a mutual decision to keep our relationship private,” Kyoya sighed.
(Name) laughed. “Sorry, I was teasing.”
“No one knows? Also, you can call me Haruhi. Please don’t feel the need to be formal!” Haruhi was trying to figure out how to phrase questions that wouldn’t immediately get shut down by Kyoya. How did you meet, how long have you been together, how is your partner a commoner?
“Well, Tamaki-san knows. He found out after—“
Again, Kyoya was quick to interrupt. “Please don’t explain that story. It’s embarrassing.”
“I didn’t know you were worried about shame. Could’ve fooled me with that outfit of yours and your peculiar new hangout spot!” (Name) grinned, and Haruhi found herself in awe for the second time that day. She was used to Kyoya always having a witty remark ready for when one of the club members decided to yell at him, but (Name) might be his equal in that regard. Not only could they banter with Kyoya— Kyoya seemed to enjoy it. He had an unbeatable poker face but Haruhi definitely noticed the corners of his lips curling upwards as he looked at (Name). There was a softness in place of his usual cunning.
Haruhi leaned back in her chair, pleasantly entertained by the pair in front of her. “I guess it makes plenty of sense for Kyoya-senpai to have a private relationship. But, doesn’t that mean you don’t have a lot of time to spend with each other?”
“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t call it ideal. But, Kyoya is married to his job, y’know? I couldn’t take that away from him.”
That time, Kyoya pinched (Name)’s cheek in retaliation. “You’re making me sound like a bad partner. Yes, we don’t spend as much time together as the average couple, but we always make time for each other.”
“Have I ever told you that you look uncomfortable when you explain our relationship to other people?” Kyoya pulled on their cheek. “Agh! Let go!”
Kyoya complied with the request, but not before pressing a light kiss to the cheek he just bullied. He was a host, after all. He knew how to treat someone right. His regular customers would probably be furious to know that he was so chaste on physical affection because it was reserved for his dear partner.
(Name) wasn’t wrong about Kyoya being uncomfortable. He knew how to play the role of a host, but having to be honest about something real, in public, was a different ballpark entirely. But the fact that he was in a space where no one knew who he was or what his status was served to be quite freeing. The usual pressure on his shoulders of being an Ootori was alleviated for once, so he locked hands with (Name) over the table.
It was Haruhi’s turn to be cunning since she would never be afforded this opportunity against Kyoya again. “Kyoya-senpai has been so grumpy today,” Haruhi started. “But he relaxed as soon as you arrived, (Name)-san. He’s really fond of you.”
If (Name) wasn’t here, Kyoya would’ve probably found a way to twist Haruhi’s comment into more debt for her to pay off. But (Name)’s eyes lit up, so Kyoya let Haruhi get away with it this time.
“You’re really good at reading him, Haruhi-san! I may be teasing a lot, but he’s really a great guy. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.” (Name) talked about Kyoya like he was the most precious thing on the planet. For (Name), Kyoya wasn’t just the third Ootori son. He wasn’t burdened with the harshest expectations. All he had to do was be good to them and sometimes Kyoya wished he lived in a world where that was the only thing he ever had to be worried about in his life.
But, right then, in a commoner mall Kyoya had no familiarity with, it was like living that alternate life. So Kyoya allowed himself to smile at (Name) and take in the praise.
author’s note: chapter one is in the works already, fear not!! I’m sorry, I rly just couldn’t resist posting what I had before I suffer this exam week. I needed a dopamine boost and smth to look forward to so pls bear with me 😅😅
SERIES MASTERLIST | Ch. 1
I was taught that highschool is merely a place of simulation.
That people existed to be taken advantage of.
And that the pursuit of everything and everyone is solely for benefits sake.
I believed that for a while, and it was enough for me.
But in my pursuits, a capricious moron came along and shattered my perception of world as I knew it.
I had gained a true friend—experiencing what he called ‘naive youth’.
I thought, if I had come across a true friend in this place, that it was truly enough for me.
But how is it that starting with you, I began to crave something ‘more than enough’?
Why is that with you, my world became impossibly bigger than ever before?
