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artemis32 · 9 months

Text

vagabond

my batfam obsession has finally come in handy (reader is like, late teens, early twenties??)

This was meant to be a drabble, but I went a teeny tiny bit overboard, and by overboard, I mean this is 5.6k words - there will also definitely be a part two <33

Enjoy :)) Or don't. I can't tell you what to do

****

dc masterlist

****

“Okay,

Let’s do this one last time

My name?? You don’t need to know my name. All you need to know is that I was bitten by a radioactive spider, and for the last six years, I’ve been the one, and only, Recluse.

….what? Spiderman?

No, no, none of that nonsense. That’s so overused. Plus, I’m a woman, and Spiderwoman just feels like a bit of a mouthful.

Yeah… Recluse. I was bitten by a recluse spider.

…ironically, I hate spiders.”

****

Hear me out.

You’re a Spider person(??), involved in the Spider verse. You have the usual Spiderman backstory (sort of), and you’ve got the same incredible senses and abilities. I imagine you having a slightly superior spider sense and speed compared to other Spiders – think Cindy Moon. And obviously, the name, Recluse, means you were bitten by a recluse spider (I fucking hate spiders), but that also means that you get all the qualities of a recluse spider. Mainly necrotic venom and the ability to camouflage. You can’t exactly turn invisible, you just have the uncanny ability of blending in like a chameleon. It’s kind of creepy, I won’t lie.

Regardless of your abilities, you were there when Miguel lost his temper and when Miles ran away.

Except you made the mistake of trying to help Miles. Why wouldn’t you? He was just a child, and he only wanted to keep his family safe. Anyone else would’ve done the same in his position. Suffice it to say, that pissed Miguel off. Majorly.

And while Miles managed to get away without a dimension-travelling watch, you weren't as fortunate. You fought tooth and nail with other Spiders, not wanting to hurt them and not wanting to get caught. You barely managed to escape with your life as you tapped a random location into your watch and zapped off to another earth without a second thought or a proper plan. But not before the Spiders giving chase had managed to damage your watch (and you - they’re strong as fuck, of course they managed to do some damage).

Now, as you stand on an empty rooftop, examining your watch in the rain, you're beginning to think you may have fucked up.

Slightly.

The watch still prevents you from glitching, you've confirmed that much. Thank goodness.

But it is broken. You know it is. Because you can't reach anyone else in the Spider verse. And you can't see what universe you're in. You feel like you’ve been thrown in the deep end, and the fact that you can barely stand doesn’t help.

****

Stood in the rain on a rooftop in the middle of nowhere, injured and all but stranded, was not how you had planned on spending your Saturday night.

As you distractedly tinker with the watch in a pathetic attempt to fix it, grumbling to yourself about your ruined weekend place, your spider sense goes haywire, ringing so loudly in your ears that your head spins.

You're so disoriented that you barely manage to dodge the dagger thrown your way.

A dagger that's... shaped like a plane? No, it looked more like a bird?

You step back cautiously as a man emerges from the shadows, jumping down from a ledge just above your head.

He’s dressed strangely, which is one hell of a statement coming from you, someone dressed in a skintight spider suit. But-

“Really? A cape? Isn’t that, like, super impractical?”

The question leaves your mouth before you can think about it, but really – did Edna Mode teach people nothing?

He walks closer without a word. His silence is almost as unsettling as his gaze. It feels as if he’s dissecting you. He keeps a safe distance between the two of you.

Hm, he’s not completely lacking in the common-sense department, at least.

Then, after much deliberation, he speaks.

“That light- you fell from the sky?”

His voice was cautious, every word measured and serious. His eyes scanned you from top to bottom, taking in your appearance without a word.

You sigh and prop a hand on your hip, trying to appear nonchalant, trying desperately not to wince at the flaring pain in your ribs. You were in no position to fight, so you’d either have to run, or talk your way to safety.

If there was one thing you were good at, it was talking.

“Yep. You’re so observant.”

He scowls, his mouth pinching slightly at the corners.

Okay, maybe sassing the man with a dorky superhero cape isn’t a great idea… At least, not while I can barely stand.

So you change tactics.

“I’m sorry, I just- Look, uh, where exactly am I?”

The look on his face tells you that that was not the right question to ask.

Great. A sceptic. That’s exactly what I needed.

So you backtrack, laughing awkwardly as you wave your hands dismissively.

“That was a… a joke- A terribly timed joke. I apologise. Uh, your suit is… nice?”

Now he seems more exasperated than cautious, and he takes a step closer, reaching a hand out towards you.

Your spider sense flares, and you know that something about this man is dangerous. He appears young and relatively harmless, but appearances can be deceiving, you of all people know that.

So, you do the only thing you can think of at that moment. The only command your instincts give you. You jump away.

You jump.

And, naturally, you stick to the wall.

It’s nothing. It’s such a small action, one you’re more than accustomed to. You do it all the time, climbing walls and ceilings, scaling the sides of buildings. Other Spiders do it too. Even the civilians back on your own earth are used to it.

But it’s not nothing.

The man before you seems stunned beyond words, his outstretched hand hanging in midair as his jaw drops. He stares at you as you stand there, exactly perpendicular to him, sticking to the wall and defying all laws of nature as if it’s nothing.

His hand clenches in a fist and he reaches for a bo staff, the metal snapping loudly as he swings it outwards, the leather of his glove creaking as he tightens his grip.

“Who are you? Your name. Now.” he demands, his jaw clenched tightly.

You tilt your head.

Was this guy an idiot? The first rule of secret identities is that they’re, y’know, secret?

“Oh, well, I’m Recluse. Who are you?”

He ignores your question, slowly approaching you again, looking at you curiously. It might have seemed innocent to a third party, but your head was still ringing. You couldn’t let this man get too close to you.

You sigh heavily.

Running it is.

You point your arm outwards, startling the man, who takes a wary step back. Before he can react or reach for you, you shoot a web out and swing away. His bo staff slams against the wall seconds after you leapt from it, the wall denting and crumbling from the force of his swing.

The look on his face was priceless, first fear at the sight of you jumping over the edge of the building, then surprise, then a flash of anger as you mockingly saluted him as you swung away. You’d laugh if your ribs didn’t feel like they were seconds away from shattering.

You swing through the unfamiliar city, the buildings passing by you in a flash. Coming to a stop is painful, your head swimming as you nearly slam into the side of an apartment building.

Thank God for spider-like adhesion.

You sit there for a long moment, taking a second to catch your breath and gather your bearings.

After you've managed to shake the dizziness away, you swing to the street down below.

While you think over your piss poor plan of finding some civilian clothing and learning more about this universe, you try to ignore the aching throb in your ribs. You weren’t too concerned about the injury – one advantage of being Spiderwoman was that you healed at an incredible rate. You’d just have to grin and bear until you healed.

****

Wayne Enterprises.

They specialised in a whole lot, but all that really interested you was their science division. In particular, the tech and biotech sector. The company seemed eerily similar to variations of other mega corporations you’d seen in your time travelling through the multiverse.

Stark Enterprises. Alchemax. Oscorp Industries. Roxxon Energy Corporation.

The list was endless, but you’d decided, after hours spent in a cramped internet café doing informal research on the strange dimension you found yourself in, that investigating Wayne Enterprises was the best place to start if you hoped to ever fix the watch and return home.

Your plan of action was simple. Scratch that, it was terrible - held together with little more than hopes and prayers. But with your abilities, you were confident you could pull it off.

That’s how you found yourself confidently walking through the foyer of Wayne Enterprises, acting as if you were supposed to be there. Swiping an access card off of some poor, unsuspecting office worker was easier than it should have been.

You wandered around the reception area for a while, carefully surveying the room before approaching the elevator with the air of someone who knew where they were going.

There’ll be signs for each division… Right?

Wrong.

Twenty minutes later, you’re still wandering aimlessly through corridors, hoping the right room would magically present itself to you.

So caught up in your own frustrated musings, you nearly miss the department you’d spent almost an hour looking for.

The sign above the door is pathetic - faded and barely visible, peeling and yellowed at the edges, like some old poster left out in the sun to age.

Shoving your irritation to the back of your mind, you quietly open the door, wincing as it creaks. Popping your head through the gap, you peek around the small room, and-

Nothing.

It’s completely empty, the thick layer of dust settled over the countertops seeming to mock your failure of a heist.

A silent huff of annoyance is all you allow yourself, quickly shutting the door and continuing on your way. Determination fuels your every step, intent to find something, anything, so that your breaking-and-entering excursion wouldn’t be for nothing.

****

Success.

You definitely weren’t supposed to be in here. Not that you were supposed to be in the building in general, but this?

‘This’ being what appeared to be the CEO’s personal office, if the floor to ceiling windows and expensive leather furniture was anything to go by.

You’d long since discarded any pretence of searching for the biotech department. Now, you were just snooping around, curious to see what exactly the CEO of Wayne Enterprises had laying around.

Naturally, you’d come across a few pictures of him in your investigation of Wayne Enterprises, and all you’d thought about the moment you’d seen his photo, was that Bruce Wayne was undoubtedly one of the most attractive men you’d ever met.

If you weren’t caught in such a dire situation, you might have taken the time to fawn over him a while longer.

The office is odd. There’s something about it that you can’t quite put your finger on, something uncanny. Maybe it’s that lack of colour or warmth, or the lack of any personal effects.

But that couldn’t be it. You’d seen plenty of rooms similarly decorated, but there was something about this in particular that set your hair on end. Not your spider sense, but your unconscious mind.

It almost felt as if you were being… observed. As if an unseen force was breathing down your neck, pinning you in place.

You distract yourself from your ever growing unease, pulling open drawers and rifling through cabinets.

What an obscene amount of paperwork.

Truly, you don’t expect to find anything exciting or noteworthy. Maybe an office cellarette, maybe a Courtesan cigar.

What you don’t expect is to find the parts you needed to fix your watch.

The parts that were supposed to have been in the biotech department.

Before you have much time to contemplate about why the tech worth billions is shoved behind a bookshelf, the door opens.

You’re on the ceiling before he even enters the room, your breath tight in your chest, the klystron conductor clutched firmly in your fist as you try not to make any sudden movements.

Certain abilities you’d gotten as a result of the spider that bit you came in handy more often than not, namely the capability to survive weeks, if not months without food or water, and the preternatural proficiency you had hunting at night. Most useful had to be your camouflage abilities.

And while you were able to camouflage yourself, it came with its own set of drawbacks and caveats. Specifically in the fact that it was a camouflaging ability, not invisibility.

If you moved too suddenly, even someone unaware would notice you.

It takes you a moment to realise that the man is Bruce Wayne.

He looks different than in the photos - his back is broader, his hair darker, and his eyes…

His eyes-

Your head feels like it’s being split open, a buzzing so persistent filling your ears that you almost slip off the wall, your adhesion faltering for a moment.

There had been one or two stories within the Spider Society, of moments where someone's spider sense had gone so haywire they couldn’t tell up from down. There’d been a time where, supposedly, someone had even passed out from the pounding pressure in their skull.

Initially, you’d thought it was an exaggeration, a newfound hero overplaying a fight gone wrong in an attempt to save face.

Now, as he surveys the room, his azure eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than they should, you understand what they meant.

Panic isn’t enough to describe how you feel at that moment.

You feel too exposed, your nerves raw and laid bare.

It… almost feels as if he knows you’re there.

But that’s not possible. There’s no way.

You allow yourself the slightest sigh of relief, releasing the searing breath in your chest as he turns, moving towards his desk.

His silhouette is broad and domineering as he bows over his laptop, the sound of his tapping at the keys filling the sweltering silence of the room.

With his back turned towards you, you take your chance, slowly, so slowly making your way across the room, still sticking to the ceiling all the while.

You pause for a moment, freezing when you catch a glimpse of what exactly is on his screen.

The camera feed.

There you are.

Entering his office with a wide eyed look on your face.

And-

And that’s you, barely ten minutes ago, rifling through drawers and shelves.

He pauses then, on the frame of you holding the klystron conductor with a satisfied smile and a slight sparkle in your eyes. He sighs heavily, his head dropping forward as he taps two fingers against the tabletop.

You don’t linger to see his reaction, dropping down from the ceiling and slinking out the ajar door.

****

After you’d hightailed it out of the building as soon as you could, you hadn’t dared to look back.

That man… Something about him set your nerves on edge. He wasn’t normal.

Thankfully, you’d managed to get out without much hassle, and now you were wandering somewhat aimlessly through the city, looking for a place to set up shop, so to speak.

Spying a seemingly abandoned building across the street, you decided it would have to do for now.

As you cross the road, aiming for the darkened alleyway across the road, you’re slammed off of your feet.

By a car.

Someone hit you with a goddamn car.

You lay there, in the entryway of the alley, gasping for breath as you press your forehead to the wet concrete beneath you. But no matter how deeply you breathe, you can’t seem to force yourself to your feet.

Spider sense my ass – what the fuck was that?! No warning, nothing!

The edges of your vision turn black, and you pray that you don’t pass out as a pair of polished black leather shoes approach you.

A man crouches down in front of you, his words drowned out by the ringing in your ears.

He reaches out to you, intent on pressing his palm to your shoulder.

You pass out before he can touch you.

****

You might’ve been unconscious for a few hours or or a few weeks. You weren’t sure.

All you knew was that you were in what appeared to be a medical facility, and you were restrained.

On the bright side, you felt a ton better than you had before you passed out. Though a look around proved that it might have been because of whatever concoction of drugs they’d given you to numb the pain.

Well, with your increased metabolism, that comfort probably wouldn’t last too long.

You lay back, content to stay there until a doctor or nurse came in to check on you.

Twenty minutes later, long after the medication had worn off, someone entered the room.

The man, grey-haired and dressed in an immaculately pressed tuxedo, pauses for a moment when he realises that you’re awake before continuing on his course towards you and proceeding to check your vitals.

“How long have you been awake, Miss?”

You don’t respond.

Or rather, you can’t.

Pain grips you like a vice, wrapping its fingers around your abdomen, digging its claws into your skull.

Stupid damned metabolism.

Apparently, your pain and distress are visible enough for the old gentleman to see.

He frowns, leaning closer slightly for a moment before striding towards a row of cabinets, sifting through them before returning with a needle and a small glass vial. He squints slightly as he fills the needle.

A lot of what happens after that is lost to you in your pained daze. You’re awake, aware, but barely.

The older man is gone by the time you manage to pull yourself out of the strange, aching daze.

In his stead is Bruce Wayne.

The heart monitor betrays your panic, the sharp beeping filling the echoing space of the room.

He doesn’t speak or move from his spot beside your bed, instead observing you with a flat look as your heart rate slowly evens out again.

After a long bout of silence, he hold up a hand, waving it slightly, and-

And he’s holding the klystron conductor.

Of course.

“Do you want to tell me why you were ransacking my office for a multibillion dollar piece of tech?”

Your hands clench and unclench around the stiff sheets, and you lick your lips before responding.

“No, not particularly.”

You pause.

“Do you want to tell me why you hit me with your car?”

The corner of his mouth twitches.

He finds this funny?! What a psycho.

“Well, you did steal from me.”

“So you hit me with a car?!”

He raises an eyebrow, seemingly unimpressed with your raised tone.

“Regardless… I’m guessing it has something to do with this.”

Every muscle in your body goes rigid as he holds up your watch, casually dangling it from his forefinger as he carefully observes you for any signs of a reaction.

Okay, okay, just… play it cool.

“What, a watch? Pfft, keep it, it’s not worth much. Just some piece of crap I won in a claw machine ten years ago.”

Your knuckles are white from the force of your grip as you all but strangle the bed sheets beneath your grasp.

He smirks slightly, nodding empathetically.

“Ah, of course. So, you won’t mind if I toss it in the trash, right? Since it’s just an old piece of crap and all that?”

You shrug, keeping your eyes on his and away from the watch. “Go for it.”

And he does.

He tosses it in the trash can beside your cot, still watching closely from some reaction.

You remain nonchalant.

“...hm, well. Rest up then. You’ll need all your energy- Prison in Gotham is a harsh place.”

You blanch.

“Prison? But- But technically I didn’t even steal! You got it back, didn’t you?”

His mouth quirks slightly at that.

Great. He finds amusement in my suffering.

“While that’s true, you did break into Wayne Enterprises. And my personal office. I have the evidence. That’s grounds enough for an arrest, wouldn’t you agree?”

He stands, sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a casual stance.

Fine. I can play along for a bit.

“...okay. I-I’m sorry. Fine, you can hand me over to the cops, just- Just please let me rest for a bit? I think you might’ve concussed me.”

He huffs a laugh, his eyes lighting up in amusement. He knows you’re lying. And you know he knows.

“Okay. Take all the time you need.”

He leaves without another word, not looking back.

And not a moment too soon.

As the door shuts, you glitch, painfully spasming, your cells electrified and fizzing.

You fall out the cot, collapsing onto the floor as you grip the edge of the trash can, rifling through it in your search for the watch.

Slipping it onto your wrist and tightening the clasp, you-

…this isn’t my watch.

The door opens again and in strolls the culprit, a self-satisfied look in his eyes.

“Just a piece of junk, huh?”

“Oh, fuck y-”

You almost bite your tongue off mid sentence as you glitch again, clinging to the railing of the cot as your muscles stiffen up and your blood roils in your veins.

He’s speaking, confused and panicked as he calls out to you, and then someone else, rushing towards you. You think his hands might be on your arms. You aren’t sure.

Then it’s over. You’re hunched over, all but sprawled on the sparkling white tiles, shivering and sweaty, fighting the urge to throw up.

But it’s over.

You squint up at Bruce.

His face is hazy, and so is the figure behind his.

Everything is hazy, but you can feel the strap of your watch on your wrist, his hand just above it. You can feel how dry your mouth is, and the pounding of the growing migraine in your temples. And you can feel your spider sense tickling the edge of your consciousness, slowly growing in urgency with each passing moment.

“What the hell was that?”

The voice is a new one, one you haven’t heard before. It belongs to the figure lingering behind Bruce.

His face comes into focus as the effects of your glitch wear off.

Blue eyes. Just as startling and off putting as Bruce’s.

In fact, he seems like a carbon copy. Almost. His skin seems slightly more tanned, and he’s leaner than his older companion. Shorter too, though just by a few inches.

“That…” you say in a weary manner, “was a glitch. A painful one. I don’t recommend trying it.”

“A glitch?”

You deadpan, pushing yourself into a sitting position, leaning against the wall adjacent to your cot for support.

“Yeah. I just said that. Pay attention.”

“So that watch keeps you from… ‘glitching’ then?”

Bruce and his companion sport matching expressions of intrigue and dread.

“Yep. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“...what’s a Gryffindor?”

Good God, I should’ve let Miguel kill me.

“...doesn’t matter. I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

You get up with an embarrassing amount of difficulty, grunting as you pull yourself up using the cot’s railing. Your enhanced healing could only work so fast, it seemed, and clearly Bruce had done a number on you with the bumper of his car.

The short stride to the door is cut short as the young Bruce lookalike steps in front of you.

“Sorry, but we can’t let you leave just yet. Where exactly are you from?”

“Earth. Please move.”

“I can’t do that. You should sit back down, you don’t look too hot.”

You let out a strangled noise of disbelief.

“Excuse me, I look very hot. All the time.”

A deadpan look is all you’re granted in response.

That’s it, I’ve had enough.

“Seriously. Move.”

“No. Sit down.”

Bruce sighs, massaging the bridge of his nose as you and his mini-me engage in a stare down.

“Okay, that’s enough. Dick, back up. Miss, please, sit down before you hurt yourself.”

You pause, glancing at Bruce, then back at the man in front of you.

There’s a slight pause, and then-

You burst into a fit of giggles, clutching your pained ribs as you stumble back and collapse onto the cot.

“Your name is Dick? Dick? Seriously?”

His eyes harden at your laughter, his mouth pressed in a tight line.

“...it’s not that funny,” he mutters, unimpressed.

“Yeah it is. Who willingly allows themselves to be called Dick? I can think of six penis jokes off the top of my head. You’re practically begging for them.”

Bruce interjects before either one of you can continue, sending Dick a sharp look.

Ha. Dick.

“That’s enough. What I want to know is why you’re glitching. And you won’t be going anywhere until I find out.”

You deadpan, fixing him with an incredulous look.

“...no offence, but you can’t really keep me here.”

“I can, and I will.”

You snort, laughter bubbling up in your chest once more.

“No, I mean- You can try, but you probably won’t succeed. No hard feelings though.”

“What, you mean because of your superpowers? Trust me, they won’t do you much good around here.”

His words give you pause, and you stare up at him silently for a moment.

“I don’t- What are you talking about?”

“There’s no use playing dumb,” Dick interjects. “It won’t get you very far. We know about your abilities, and we’re telling you that we know about them so that you don’t try anything.”

“And what exactly do you plan on doing if I do try something? Money can only get you so far.”

Your words make Bruce’s mouth twitch into a small smile once again.

“I have a theory, one I hope you’ll entertain for a moment.”

He looks at you expectantly.

After a moment of deliberation, a heavy sigh, and a nod, he smiles in a self-satisfied manner and takes a seat on the foot of your bed. After a short nod to Dick, he exits the room, leaving you and Bruce alone.

“I think that you’re from Earth, like you said. Just not this Earth. I think that you’re from another universe or dimension, and you’re ‘glitching’ because you’re not meant to be here. Am I right?”

It’s an effort to hide your reaction and keep your face blank, but you manage. Barely.

“Well, that’s certainly an… interesting theory. What sparked that idea?”

He shifts, staring at you for a moment, resting his palms on his thighs.

“...you fell from the sky. Out of what I can only assume is a portal. And your cells are basically decaying without that watch- or at least, that’s what my colleagues at Star Labs tell me.”

You stiffen at his words, squinting for a beat.

“How do you know I came through a portal? The only person around then was that idiot with the cape.”

Bruce frowns at your words.

“The cape isn’t stupid. It’s practical.”

You deadpan. “It’s a deathtrap.”

“Regardless. I know about all that because…”

He pauses.

“Because I’m Batman.”

“...Batman? Is that supposed to be a superhero alias or something? That’s the dumbest name I’ve ever heard- Did you pick it yourself?”

He lets out a noise of exasperation, annoyance painting his features.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Changing the topic. It’s annoying.”

“...sorry.”

He shakes his head. “So? Am I correct in my assumption?”

You take a moment to think, really think, weighing your options. He didn’t seem like a bad person. Yes, he did hit you with his car. And yes, he wouldn’t let you leave, but…

But your spider sense had gone radio silent. If you were in any danger, it’d be ringing like crazy, so…

“Yes. Yeah, you are. I’m not from this Earth. I’m from Earth 662.”

“Earth… 662?”

“I just said that. Does everyone on this Earth struggle with processing information?”

He fixes you with a stern look before continuing on.

“So I assume you’re stranded here? That’s why you were trying to steal the klystron conductor.”

“Uh uh,” you tut disapprovingly. “I was borrowing it. I would’ve returned it… Eventually.”

Bruce nods along, rolling his eyes slightly as he continues.

“...Earth 662, huh… How many variations of Earth are there then-”

“I can’t tell you that.”

Your response is immediate and stern, leaving no room for debate.

Thankfully, Bruce doesn’t kick up a fuss.

“Hm… Well then, do you know how to get back?”

“Of course I do. I just need to fix up the watch. Hence the little heist I pulled off at your office.”

“And do you know how to fix it?”

You press your mouth into a tight line, avoiding the knowing look he gives you.

“Well, I mean… how hard can it be?”

He sighs. “That’s what I thought you’d say.”

There’s a pause, a lull in the conversation, and neither of you say anything for a long while, both lost in your own thoughts.

“Okay. Here’s what I propose. You obviously don’t know what you’re doing-”

“Hey!”

“-so I’ll help you out. I’ll help fix that watch of yours, and let you stay with me while we try to find you a way back home. In exchange, you’ll tell me about things from your Earth, and about the multiverse. Sound fair?”

As much as you’d like to argue, to refuse his more than generous offer, you know you can’t. You were smart, but not in the areas needed to fix the watch.

You needed his help.

Damn it.

“...fine. Deal.”

His hand feels cool and calloused in yours, and his grip is firm and reassuring.

If only you knew then how wrong things would go. Maybe you’d have refused his deal.

****

Four months later.

“...still nothing?”

“No. I’m sorry. I’ve sent Dick to Central City to find a few more parts.”

“It’s not your fault, I just… I really want to go home.”

It had been months.

You’d been stuck on this strange Earth, so similar to your own, for months.

While the Wayne Manor was nice, and its inhabitants lovely, you missed your home. You missed your family.

But there was nothing to be done about it. You’d damaged your watch more than you’d originally thought, the travel mechanism was completely destroyed.

Initially, you’d been foolishly optimistic, believing you’d return home within a week.

But that week had passed. Then another. And another.

Time kept passing, and you were still stuck here, four months later.

At least you had decent company.

While you didn’t exactly trust them, you’d grown fond of them. You might even have begun to consider them friends.

Dick had grown on you over the months, despite the rocky start to your friendship. He was reliable in a way that reminded you too much of the many variations of Peter Parker you’d met throughout your time in the Spider Society.

Tim, who you’d discovered was the ‘idiot in the cape’ you’d met on your first night on this Earth, was just as easy to get along with. At first, he’d thrown you off a bit with his unsociable personality, but he’d slowly opened up over time. Really, he was more of a nerd than anything else.

And he’d heeded your words of wisdom regarding the cape.

Damian, Bruce’s ‘prodigee’, was someone you still had trouble getting along with. Your relationship had improved over the months, but barely. Before, he’d outright ignore your presence. Now, he at least graced you with a nod of acknowledgement or the occasional verbal greeting.

How kind of him.

Bruce had become somewhat of a parental figure after he had walked in on you crying one night. While you were embarrassed, he’d taken it in stride, comforting you as best as he could, reassuring you that they’d find a way to send you back home.

“Oh, I know, I know. We’re all trying our best, just… try to be patient. We’ll find something soon, I promise.”

His palms rest on your shoulders, patting you reassuringly.

You nod in agreement, too tired and disheartened to say anything else as you mumble something about going to bed, turning to leave the room.

****

“And you’re sure no one knows she’s here? If they found out…”

“Yes Dick, I’m sure. I’m not an idiot, I know how to wipe a hard drive.”

There’s a slight lull in conversation as the two wait for the rest of the group to arrive.

A few minutes later, Bruce enters the room, Damian trailing behind him.

He walks to where the two are seated and puts the klystron conductor on the table before them.

“That’s the last one. Have you done everything else?”

Tim nods, gesturing to a singular hard drive placed on the coffee table.

“That’s the only remaining evidence of her presence on this Earth.”

Bruce nods and sighs, looking between the three men with him before Dick interjects.

“Do you- I mean, are we really going to do this? We’re supposed to be the heroes. This… This isn’t something we can undo.”

All three of his companions hold a steely glint in their eyes as they nod.

“I’m sure. It’s better this way. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t know what she needs. She’ll thank us for this in a few years.”

There’s a tense pause for a moment before he speaks again.

“Do it.”

And just like that, the final klystron conductor is destroyed, along with any hope you’d had of returning home.

“...she’ll thank us.”

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abiiors · 6 months

Text

under the cherry blossoms - george x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this isn't intentionally a george birthday fic but i'm honestly very happy with the coincidence. happy birthday to my sweetie pumpkin pie sugar plum fairy boy 🤭🤍 cw: brief mentions of being sick, like vomit etc. and a lot of sappy fluff, some smut but not very detailed and explicit. this is sooooooo cheesy ugh wc: 3.3k

it’s hits him first when he surprises her with the tickets as a christmas present—tickets to japan for the coming spring. tickets to see the cherry blossoms that she’s been dying to see ever since george showed her a few photos of him and the band in japan, laughing under the cherry blossoms, surrounded by pink petals.

her eyes go round at the sight of the tickets, lingering on the destination again and again until her brain catches up with exactly what’s happening. then she grins so wide that she can’t quite keep her eyes open and tackles george into a hug until he’s on the floor and she’s on top of him, kissing his whole face and mumbling thank you over and over again.

george hugs her tightly and laughs at her excitement.

it hits him then—he should buy a ring.

for weeks he pesters matty about it, then ross, then adam. adam, naturally, seems to have the most credibility on this matter, he’s the only one of them who’s ever made it to the marriage stage. george has a million and one questions about it, and a million and one anxious thoughts that just won’t seem to go away.

“what if she hates the ring!”

“she loves you, she’ll love the ring you get her.”

“yeah but what if i blow it and say all the wrong things?!”

“have you ever done that in the past?”

“uh… no.”

and this is where adam’s patience runs thin.

ultimately, george is told to calm down, breathe, and pick a ring he thinks she’ll like. george knows her like the back of his own hand—knows her likes and dislikes and pet peeves, knows the weird ribena flavours she prefers. he even knows that she is a little superstitious about broken mirrors and spilt salt but gets huffy when it’s brought up (mostly by george in a fond, teasing way)

suffice it to say, george knows her. inside and out.

and so decides to get his shit together, and get her the most perfect ring he’s ever seen.

ring tucked safely in george’s suitcase, they land in tokyo three days before his birthday.

now that he’s over all his nervousness, george can’t contain the fucking excitement he’s felt for the past few weeks—it’s been an almost impossible task to keep the ring hidden from her at home. the sock drawer is out of question, along with every other tiny nook and cranny in the house because george knows how thorough she gets about spring cleaning. he has to resort to handing the ring to adam for safe-keeping.

and sure it’s mostly so she won’t find it by accident, but also because he doesn’t want to give into the intimacy of the moment and propose on a whim.

he wants it to be grand—champagne and candles and roses (or well… cherry blossoms). he wants it to be memorable.

they get the hotel check-in sorted—well george does anyway while she bounces on the balls of her feet next to him, too excited to care about any tiredness or jet lag.

it’s blissful, it’s perfect—that’s how he’d describe the first two days they spend there. so far it’s been exactly what he wanted—relaxing and exciting. the ring burns a hole in his suitcase though. every time he grabs something from it, he can’t resist swiping his fingers over the velvet box stashed in the corner, almost like his brain is trying to confirm over and over again that the ring is indeed there.

at night when she goes to bed, george rehearses his speech in his head.

you’re the love of my life… no! too fucking cheesy, and he’s stating the obvious.

i’ve thought of marrying you for… no! he can’t bring it up in the first fucking line, not before he actually pops the question. that’s meant to be for the after.

i love you, i love everything about you… yes, okay, yes! now he’s going somewhere. that’s what he should do—keep it sweet and simple and real. keep it genuine. and so he repeats all of it in his head over and over again, smiling wide each time when he imagines her reaction.

his mind’s come up with a thousand different scenarios—outcomes of all the little details. would she cry? (yes) would she squeal and jump? (also yes)

would she say yes? (he really fucking hopes so)

his actual birthday is out of the question. george knows she’s a firm believer in not proposing on other special occasions—so no christmas, no birthdays, and absolutely not someone else’s wedding.

besides, he just wants to have a good birthday without being all nervous and jittery about it.

on the day of, he wakes up to balloons. tonnes of them. he doesn’t even know when she’s had the time to blow them all up and arrange them in the room and order room service breakfast in bed with cherry blossoms in a small vase but george feels warmth spread through his whole body.

how did he get so lucky?

“happy birthday!” she squeals the moment she realises he’s awake. her excitement is palpable, her huge smile infectious. george pulls her tightly into his arms and kisses her softly.

he mumbles a quiet thank you too, murmured against her lips so he won’t have to pull away a lot.

she’s the one who deepens the kiss, dragging her tongue over his lip and nipping at it until his fingers dig into her hips out of sheer desperation. she fits so perfectly against him, like the last piece of a puzzle. made just for him.

she groans into the kiss and his hand travels down, grabbing and squeezing her ass until she wraps her legs around his waist and gets on top. all traces of sleep leave him in an instant.

george sits up as much as he can. his kisses turn feverish as his lips move along the hollow of her throat, her collarbone.

“my sweet, sunshine girl,” he smiles along her skin, words spoken in a low whisper that make her shiver and squeeze her legs around him.

his mouth travels lower, ghostly kisses trailed to as much of her cleavage as her top offers.

“george,” her fingers tighten on his shirt, “please, i need—fuck, need you.”

“anything for my girl,” he whispers.

everything about her amazes him—from the way she knows his body so well, to the way hers responds so perfectly to his touch. he can’t help but stare at her with adoration when he slides down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, face contorted in pleasure. he can’t stop staring at her when she falls apart, crying out his name. he only closes his eyes when his orgasm hits him, making his whole body tingle in pleasure.

she falls on his chest after, body sweaty and slick and stays there until she manages to catch her breath. even when she climbs off him, she doesn’t venture too far, climbing back into bed and cuddling into his side once she gets some water for the both of them.

“cancel plans for today? please?” he mumbles into her hair and she laughs.

“we’re here, all the way on a different continent, and you want to spend the whole day in bed?”

“please?” he tries his best at using puppy eyes on her, a trick that’s worked great for him multiple times before. and once again, she relents.

“fineee birthday boy! only because it’s your day though.”

at the back of his head he kinda wishes it wasn’t, only so he could get the ring out right now and ask her. right here in this bed while she’s naked.

he imagine what she’d look like with nothing but the ring on, the diamond glittering on her finger, messy hair, and a happy smile on her face.

“can we at least have a birthday dinner for you? a proper one.”

“yes! i know just the right place,” he answers and kisses her deeply, teeth snagging on her lower lip until she’s wrapped around him again.

tomorrow, he thinks. he’s going to do it tomorrow.

and he’s going to make it perfect.

the birthday dinner comes back to bite him in the ass.

he spends the entirety of the morning after miserable on the bathroom floor, retching into the toilet, even after his stomach is emptier than it’s ever been. she sits behind him, stroking his back and getting him water whenever he needs it. she doesn’t move even when he repeatedly asks her to.

“‘s disgusting,” followed by another gag to which makes her click her tongue.

“it’s not. let me take care of you!”

it does bring him some relief to lay his head down on her lap in between rounds of throwing up so george doesn’t argue further about it.

mostly though he’s upset about the whole day being ruined. he should be kneeling down in front of her! asking her the most important question of his life! and yet here he is, kneeling down in front of the toilet, face to face with disgusting, half-digested food.

it’s like the universe has it out for him, ruining all his well thought out plans.

fortunately, it passes an hour later, even though it leaves him feeling icky and disgusting. the only silver lining is that he gets to be pampered. she lets him sit in the bath, face squished into her stomach while she washes his hair for him. he groans every time a stomach cramp hits but she scratches his scalp as a consolation.

it’s okay, he thinks, he still has a good few days to do it. tomorrow will be better.

and then they fight.

well, it’s not a fight fight but it’s most certainly a little spat that leaves her all huffy and sour. and george knows it’d be a terrible idea to propose when she’s in a mood like this. it is, in part, his fault after all—he’s been distracted.

and he can’t even admit to her why he’s been distracted, coordinating all the little details with the hotel staff and telling the old japanese florist exactly what flowers he wants where one party barely speaks english and the other speaks no japanese at all.

it’s all stressful. it’s a slight mess.

and he’s been on his phone a little more than he should. so when george looks up to see her, her hand on her hips, foot tapping in annoyance, he knows he’s messed up.

“is there something more important?” there’s a slight bite to her words which grates on him.

george freezes, trying to think of an excuse on the spot. “just…matty.”

her eyes narrow. he knows that look, knows that she does not believe a word coming out of his mouth right now. but it’s not like he can spill everything.

“there was a…holdup. sorted now.” he tries not to stutter but ends up sounding really curt.

she gives him the side-eye, playing with the tassels of her top. george hears her exasperated sigh, her frustration palpable in the tension that hangs between them. “it’s always matty. how convenient.”

george's jaw tightens, his own irritation flaring up. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“well, you’re clearly being shady and using matty as an excuse!”

george panics. this is going south and if he doesn’t salvage this now and come up with a better excuse he’s going to end up with an upset girlfriend and absolutely zero chances of a yes.

he opens and closes his mouth, stuttering out gibberish.

fuck.

“it’s fine, george,” she sighs and turns around, walking away without even waiting to see if he’s following. it’s upsetting that he can’t figure out what she’s thinking right now. it’s not like her to be upset with him so quickly. it’s not like her to just stop communicating.

all george can do is catch up to her and kiss her head in apology. eventually she melts but he can still sense a bit of hurt in her voice every time she speaks.

“fine,” she huffs, “you can stop looking like a kicked puppy now. i’m not mad at you.”

“you sure about that?”

“i promise, baby. i’m not. just…want a bit more of your attention?”

for the rest of the day he vows not to touch his phone, only taking it out once to cancel all the half-formed planned when he’s in the bathroom of a restaurant. the ring stays in his pocket, burning against his thigh.

by their penultimate day george is fucking sure he’s jinxed. the ring comes with him everywhere they go but then how is it possible that every time he tries to propose something or the other goes wrong?

they have a hectic day of travelling and she’s too tired to do anything but order room service and sleep or he can’t find the right moment to do it, can’t think of the right words to segue into it. by their penultimate day he’s frustrated, huffy, silently stewing. so much so that even she can tell something’s wrong with him despite his best attempts to hide it.

“should we…go for a walk?” she suggests just around sunset, a little timid. “there’s this little street by our hotel i saw yesterday, cherry blossoms on both sides. i think it would be nice.”

halfheartedly, he says yes and intertwines his fingers with her as they walk out of their hotel and onto the cosy streets outside. on any other day, this would have been one of the prettiest things he’s ever experienced—strolling down a beautiful street with the love of his life while the world is doused in golden light. but his frustration trumps everything.

“is something wrong?” she asks suddenly. her voice quivers.

for such a pretty street, it’s utterly empty, devoid of any cars or people or even any occasional stray cats that she loves to stop and pet.

irritation burns in his chest—not at her, at everything else, this whole trip, one silly situation after the next. “no.”

“no because—”

“can we not talk about this right now?”

she goes quiet at the interruption, eyes wide and confused. george is about to even apologise for it when her whole face changes, goes from confused to determined.

“no, actually. let’s talk about it.”

“baby—”

“no! you have been distracted the whole time we have been here, something’s clearly wrong and you won’t tell me what it is!”

george gapes at her, but she’s clearly not done yet.

“i know you’ve been here many times before but it feels like you’ve had a shit time with me—”

“what?! no—”

“because i can tell the whole time, you’ve been preoccupied—”

“oh god, i’ve been trying to propose!” he yells out in the middle of the street. a cherry blossom petal flutters down and smacks him in the face and george looks at his girlfriend’s stunned face. a pit opens up in his stomach.

he just said that… he just fucking said that.

the conversation he had with adam months ago pops up in his head. for all the misplaced confidence his friend had in him, george has just gone and blown it all up. exactly what he was worried about. and now that he has started, he can't even stop.

“i’ve been trying to ask you to marry me for days now but something or the other keeps going wrong and i—” he chokes and the rest of the words die on his tongue.

all the nights he’s spent rehearsing his speech, all the time he spent trying to make it happen, all of it down the drain because he stupidly blurted it out. george stuffs his hand in his pocket and takes out the velvet box.

“fuck, i’ve carried this everywhere with me and—”

“yes.”

“what?”

there are tears shining in her eyes and for a second he is so sure that this is about to turn into a serious fight. he fucked up, he fucked up deeply.

and then she breaks out into the most gorgeous smile he’s ever seen, laughing through the tears. “yes. yes! are you kidding me? YES!”

“yes, you’ll…marry me?”

“if you’re still asking…”

he doesn’t even realise he’s crying until something wet hits his nose. there’s an entire storm of emotions in his chest—a whole mixture of nervousness and guilt and glee and oh god so much fucking happiness that he can’t help the wide smile that stretches across his face, can’t help the way a whole swarm of butterflies erupt in his stomach.

more cherry blossoms flutter down and george laughs along with her.

“this wasn’t how it was supposed to go. i had a whole thing planned, shit!”

“so do it. ask me!”

and that’s what he does.

instead of the roses and lights and champagne, george kneels down in the middle of the cherry blossom-covered empty street in the dying light of the sun, and looks up at her.

he opens the ring box.

“i love you so much, you have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this—oi, stop laughing at me!” to which she just laughs harder and wipes away the tears in her eyes.

“fuck it,” george curses under his breath, “fuck the speech, just…i’ve been so desperate to hear you say yes. marry me? please?”

somehow between crying and jumping up and down in excitement, she manages to nod and that’s all the confirmation he needs to get up to his feet and kiss her deeply, kiss her till the air gets knocked out of his lungs and he has to step away just a little bit to breathe. but nothing and no one can wipe the smile on his face.

quickly, he takes the ring out of the box and slides it onto her finger. it fits her perfectly, like it was meant for her and her only.

yes. she just said yes.

she just said yes after the shittiest proposal in the world. how did he get so lucky?

“that was…utterly shit. sorry i’ve been such a shit boyfriend.”

“fiance,” she corrects with a big, goofy grin on her face. “and are you joking?! that was the best proposal ever. certainly the most memorable.”

“it was?”

she nods again, distracted this time, eyes trained at her ring. the fading sunlight makes it look even more perfect.

“i’d really like to hear it though, the original plan.”

george shakes his head and takes her hand in his. his thumb swipes over her ring, drawing lazy circles around it until he memorises the feel of it on her finger. the precise shape and size of it. it’s perfect, he thinks. the perfect ring for his perfect girl.

“let’s go back then,” he kisses the top of her head, “and i’ll tell you all about it.”

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#spring fics #seasons #the 1975 #george daniel #george daniel x reader #george daniel x you #george x reader #george x you

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stormgardenscurse · 1 year

Note

hello! i was wondering if i can request headcanons about giving them cheek kisses with riddle, leona, ruggie, kalim, and azul (for azul, i think maybe we kiss his mole under his lips?? pspsps). i saw your blog recently and was really interested in your works! i hope my request isn't asking for too much, and please do take care of yourself! much love and support 💕

A/N: For Leona and Ruggie’s I ended up doing a short drabble instead! Hope you’ll like them and ty for requesting!!

Characters: Riddle, Kalim, Azul, Leona, Ruggie

Riddle

As much as he loves you, Riddle can’t help but want to bury himself into the ground whenever you surprise him with a kiss on the cheek - not because of the gesture itself, but his instinctive reaction that dusts his cheeks red and causes him to stutter.

It takes a while for him to grow an immunity toward this, but you have to admit you’re secretly glad that Riddle still adopts a tiny blush and shy glance away whenever you greet him like so - it’s part of his charm, you argue, how genuinely Riddle tends to react to things, especially when it comes to you - even when he sometimes wishes he could form more dignified responses.

At some point he gets so used to your affection that when you go a while without it, Riddle starts to wonder if something was wrong and drops his professionalism (being an undistracted student in the library) to ask.

You blink, the realization sinking in, and barely manage to stifle your laughter as you realized with a mix of guilt and relief that Riddle really does value your gestures. You’d been distracted because of a tricky assignment you had due soon, but the interaction has certainly boosted your mood while Riddle looks away, sighing in relief that it wasn't anything bad.

Kalim

Suffice to say, Kalim really enjoys physical affection! He’s likely the one that starts it off when you start dating by doing things like linking your arms and just holding your hands whenever you’re together - but if you stop and take a moment, you’ll notice that Kalim doesn’t go any further than that, as if waiting for some cue to show that you’re now comfortable and used to it.

Sure he’s sent you off with quick kisses on the cheek before, but he’s always trying to stay observant about your reactions and when to give you space. He’s trying to get better with this sort of awareness, since he wants to take your relationship seriously

When you start returning his gestures? Kalim’s practically beaming the entire day - and sometimes even asks for a quick kiss on the cheek before he heads off to club or similar. It’s hard to say no when he’s smiling like that, eyes bright with the sort of content happiness he always gets when he’s with you.

Now that your friends think about it… It’s somehow become like you were the sun, and Kalim the flowers leaning toward your attention.

Azul

Affection for Azul is something that takes place after trust has been formed - admittedly, for him to initiate things takes more courage than he’d like to admit, what with mental hurdles and doubts to get past.

But once you settle into a routine of greeting Azul with cheek kisses, he grows to look forward to it even if he tries not to let it show too obviously; it’s in the way his gaze follows you after you’ve entered the room but made no move to get closer to him, and how he tries to act cool about it and return the gesture in quiet moments alone.

Azul’s more than flustered the first time you kiss the mole under his lips - he hadn’t been expecting you to aim there! It surprises him when he hears your reasoning, and if you say that it’s because you cherish every aspect of him, well - how can Azul not fluster at that, when you unblinkingly admit such a meaningful thing?

Really, you have no idea how much your words and gestures affect him. He’s trying his best not to break character while his heart feels like it’s about to burst.

Leona

There are few people that make you feel insane like Leona Kingscholar does. Maybe it’s the smirk he wears whenever he knows he’s got you wrapped around his finger, or how you have to look away to avoid his stupidly handsome face, or…

“Herbivore,” he taps your cheek, “my eyes are up here.”

Leona asking you to kiss him goodbye should really send him to hell. Which is where you’re looking toward: the ground, not his feet. Through it, beneath it; wherever your face wasn’t heating up like you had a fever.

“I know where your eyes are!” You quip back just as fast, to which Leona gives an unconvinced hum. “In what world did you think asking like that would actually make things happen smoothly?!” Now you feel awkward because you missed the chance to play along—it’s been three minutes? Four minutes of stalling since then!

“You’re overthinking.” Leona points out. “It’s not like we haven’t kissed before. Remember that time you had your–”

Hands darting to silence him, you let out a sigh. “...I really wish you didn’t know how to work me up.”

Before he can make another remark, you pull Leona closer to you as your fingers entwine with his. A chaste kiss is placed on his right cheek, then the left - and then you brush your lips against the back of his knuckles, hands held between you.

There’s a question in his eyes about how you managed to miss his lips, but the way his tail is swaying regardless is pretty cute.

Ruggie

At a time when Ruggie was lamenting about the part time jobs he has lined up (he hadn’t expected so many places to call him in at once, thus it ended up clashing with the date he pre-planned), you’d told him you truly didn’t mind pushing the date later so he could rest and prioritize his other duties. He’d said something about you being too nice, but the moment you mentioned that maybe you’ll give him a kiss each time he finishes a shift, his ears perked up as he leaned toward you with interest.

“Wait, you’re serious? You’ll actually do that whenever I finish work now?”

“Just… Just until the date!” You squeaked, not knowing what to do when his eyes were sparkling like that. “And just a quick kiss, like on the cheek or something!”

…Yeah, so the date wasn’t until the end of the week from now, and since then Ruggie’s been slyly ‘redeeming’ his reward whenever you passed by in the corridors (never pushy, of course - just a playful look while he points towards his lips or cheek to remind you of your words). Sometimes you look away and pretend you didn’t notice (you’d get to it later in a more comfortable setting), but when Ruggie joins your table during lunch, you surprise both him and yourself when you greet him with a kiss on the cheek.

Truth be told, it was a misunderstanding. Ruggie was pointing to the line behind him to say something about how long it was, but you mistook it for his usual teasing gesture and instinctively went to follow it up with a kiss. Ruggie’s frozen in surprise for a moment before a wide smile reaches his lips. He bumps his shoulder with yours as he finally sits down.

Shut up, shut up–

“Missed me, did you-?”

#leona kingsholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #riddle rosehearts x reader #kalim al asim x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #twst x you #twst reader insert #twst headcanons #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst writing #storm writings

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ohtobeleah · 11 months

Text

Bleed For This // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: It’s not Maverick that goes down in the Snowy Mountains, but you & Bradley Bradshaw. And someone doesn’t make it back.

Warnings: Character Death. F-18 crash. Bradley Bradshaw x best friend!reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Author Note: Day Fourteen of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Bleeding through the bandage. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It wasn't supposed to end like this, with you standing over the freshly laid dirt that covered your best friend's coffin. It wasn't supposed to end like this, the two of you. Your entire life you had been told over and over that you and Bradley Bradshaw were meant for each other. That the two of you were two peas in a pod, the light of each other's lives, the solace in each other's discomforts. Each other’s person.

But yet here you were–standing over his freshly laid grave sight right next to the man who he strived every damn day to be every bit like. Nick ‘Goose’ Bradshaw and the woman whose heart was just as big as Bradleys, Carole Bradshaw. Bradley had always wanted to be every bit like his dad:

Now he was.

“I should probably get you home.” It was Jake's hand on the small of your back that drew you out of your own little make believe world, where Bradley was still alive and you couldn't feel his blood on your hands. “Come on Kerner, let's get you home.”

“Yeah–” You sighed in complete and utter defeat, it felt all too surreal to leave your best friend behind six feet under. “Do you think he's cold?” You asked softly as Jake led you away from Bradleys fresh grave sight. The two of you were the last to leave as grey storm clouds loomed overhead just waiting for the perfect moment to pour down. “He shouldn’t have come for me Jake, if he had just gone back to the carrier, he’d be alive.” You still had your arm in a sling, your collarbone had been busted in your ejection. Your arm had been burned to pieces. “I should have brought him a blanket, it’s gonna be so cold tonight.”

Jake couldn't begin to understand what it was like to lose someone you grew up with the way you and Bradley Bradshaw had. The two of you were the stuff of legend, the Nepotism duo, the lovers who were too blind, too stubborn, too focused on your careers to realise forever was standing right there.

“I think he’s happy to be with his parents again.” Jake replied as he walked with you slowly, arm slung over your shoulder. He felt it was his duty to keep an eye on you. Your dad had asked that of him and who was Jake to deny the wishes of Commander Kerner. “You know Rooster, he groomed that stupid moustache every morning just to be a little like his dad.” That made you laugh, for all the times you teased Bradley for his moustache, you never did mean it.

You were really going to miss that stupid moustache. Hell, you were really going to miss Rooster. You'd never stopped to think about a life without him earth side, and now you were living in it.

In a world without Bradley Bradshaw.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Two Weeks Prior:

Some say the world will end in fire, some say in ice. But from what you had tasted of desire you held with those who favour fire. But if you had to perish twice, you knew enough of hate to say that for destruction ice is also great and would suffice.

The icy snow made your body shiver and shake. It stung like nothing you had ever experienced before. It made your entire body rigid, like tiny pins and needles were jabbing into every little part of you. But then there was a warmth completely unparalleled to the burn of the snow that you laid face first in. It was a burn so deep that it took your breath away as you pushed yourself up to your knees.

“Oh, oh fuck.” You hissed as your vision took a second to kick in. Amongst the blanket of china white snow that rivalled that of pure cut heroin, there were burning pieces of fuselage that flickered orange and red embers of fire every which way the wind chose to take them.

Then it hit you, you’d been hit by a surface to air missile after trying to save your best friend. Rooster didn't have enough time on his side nor the flares to back up his manoeuvres. So without thinking, without a second of hesitation, you covered him and ended up taking the hit. You’d die for him any day of the week.

“Shit–” Everything hurt as you took off your flight helmet. Your arm was completely burnt to the point your flight suit had melted right into your skin. You didn't know if it had been a flare or a part of your F-18 that was the culprit. But regardless of what had caused the burn, it fucking hurt.

As you looked around the snowy forest you never imagined that you’d see what you saw next. You thought for sure you were a goner when you’d been hit, that no one would come for you. No one would turn back for you, look for your fighter jet wreckage, look for you.

“Oh god no—“ You saw him flying across the open field, Rooster, your beloved Bradley, your best friend. He was looking for you. “No no no no no.” And in doing so had a S.A.M right on his tail. “Rooster no—“ And he was hit and hit hard all because he came back for you.

Your lungs felt like they were on fire as you ran towards where you’d see Bradley pull his chute. Your legs wanted to give in as your muscles threatened to tear right off the bone. Every step, every pain filled stride you took your heart threatened to explode inside your chest. But you wouldn’t stop running, not until you got to Rooster.

“Bradley!” You shouted when you saw him lying in a debris field of his own F-18, completely blown to smithereens. “Oh no, no no no no Rooster!” You had never run so fast and so hard and with such desperation before. It didn’t matter how much you hurt, you needed to get to your best friend, the love of your life.

Who the fuck chose the both of you for this mission? Why the fuck did it have to be you? Be him?

“Roo?” You cooed as you dropped to your knees beside him, the blood was oozing through his flight suit. He’d been hit pretty bad, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out just how bad this really was. “Oh god Rooster why?”

Bradley was looking at you with all the love in the world, those baby cow eyes, so deep and brown and full of tears, looked at you like you were the light of his life. Because you were. You really really were.

“Drifter—“ It was a play on your fathers callsign. Slider. It made sense, Goose and Rooster, Slider and Drifter. “Hi, hey—you’re okay?” The utter relief in Rooster's voice was evident the seconds his eyes scanned you up and down. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“Hey.” You cooed as you let a shaky hand push the sweaty blonde locks away from Roosters forehead. “What are you doing down here Roo? You should be back on the carrier by now.” There was a pregnant pause between your question and Bradley’s answer as you watched blood pool at his lips. He was bleeding out and bleeding fast.

“I had to make sure you were okay.” He admitted as you tried to make a makeshift bandage with the leg of your flight suit. Ripping the material clean off your own body. “I couldn’t—“ The cough was bloody and deep and it made your heart sink, but you knew you could save him. You could save Rooster if you tried hard enough. If you committed every ounce of your life to it. “I couldn’t leave you behind.”

“Well you’re an idiot alright, you shouldn’t have come for me.” You sighed as you worked with what you had. “I’m sorry, this might hurt but I have to try and stop the bleeding alright.”

“AAAHHH!” Rooster couldn’t hold in his screams as you pressed your hands into his stomach. The blood seeped straight through the makeshift bandage right between your fingers. “Fuck!! It hurts!”

“Shhh, shhh it’s alright, I’ve got you.” You tried to soothe Bradley as you felt your tears welling in your eyes. “You’re fine, you’re fine, Rooster, I'm here.” Panic, pure panic was rising in your veins as adrenaline kept you from processing the fact your best friend was lying in the snowy field before you bleeding out through the bandages you had made. “You’re going to be okay, I just need you to focus and stay with me alright? You can do that for me can’t you Roo?”

Bradley didn’t answer you as you applied previously against his wounds. You didn’t give up though, not for a second.

“Bradshaw, I asked you a fucking question!”

“I’ve been in love—“ It was a staggered confession as blood trickled out of Rooster mouth. Bloodstained teeth had never looked so good on a person. “I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Kerner.” Bradley’s eyes never left you as he spoke. He couldn’t feel anything but the cold kiss of death. He saw the reaper over your shoulder coming for him. “You’re my best friend, I just—needed you to—to know that.”

“No.” You refused to believe this was happening as you watched Bradley’s blood seep between your fingers, staining your skin to the point where you knew no matter how much you tried to scrub them clean they wouldn’t ever be clean. “No, stop talking! You’re fine Rooster, please don’t leave me here.”

“I’ve always wanted to love you.” He kept speaking though, through the pain and the tears and the blood, Rooster kept telling you his deepest secrets. His biggest regret would always be not telling you sooner. His biggest regret would be never getting off his perch. “You’re gonna be alright—“

“For fuck sake Rooster you aren’t dying!” It was pure denial as you tried to stop him bleeding. You knew if you could get the bleeding to stop then you could save your best friend. “You can’t die, I don’t know how to live without you, you’re my person, so please, for the love of god just shut up and focus on staying alive.”

Rooster didn’t speak for a few minutes, all he did was breathe and try to keep his eyes open. He focused on you and your profile, how beautiful you truly were—even in a situation like this. He thought about what it would be like to marry you, watch you grow old like he had since he was three, what it would be like to spend the rest of his life with you. He hoped that whoever did get to be your person next would be able to handle you and all your fire. That they never tried to smother it. He hoped that they would at the very least, add some fuel to the fire that burned in your soul. He hoped that they’d take care of you and love you and let you know how much you bring to this life.

“Kiss me.” Bradley whispered just above something audible. “Kiss me, please Kerner.”

“Rooster?” It was at that moment you knew he was going. His face was all clammy and he was oh so cold to the touch.

“Please kiss me so I can go.” He begged you softly as he placed his hand on top of where your hands were covered in his blood over his stomach. “My dads here.”

“Well tell Goose you aren’t ready!” The tears that left your body were grief stricken. It was like nothing you had ever felt before. To mourn someone you loved so deeply, so fiercely and so much that to imagine a life without them it took a piece of you with them. “Tell him you can’t go because I need you here.” You cried as you leaned over to press your forehead to Bradley’s. “You don’t get to die, tell whoever’s here for you to fuck off—you’re not dying.”

“Just kiss me.” Was all Bradley cooed before you leaned in to press your lips against his. It wasn’t the first time, but it would be the last. He was oh so pale and cold as the ice he laid bleeding out on. You felt his blood on your lips and god you’d never forget that feeling. Whatever had struck him had completely decimated his stomach. No amount of bandages could save him.

You never stood a chance they would later tell you. No amount of first aid could have saved Bradley Bradshaw.

“I love you, I love you.” It was like a mantra, Rooster kept saying it over and over until you heard him stop. That’s how you knew he was gone. Because the silence was far too loud and far too heartbreaking and the sound of his I love yous would haunt you forever.

“Damn you Bradshaw, I love you too.” You cried as you laid beside him, curled up against his body for what felt like eternity. When help arrived you refused to leave his side. And you didn’t until someone had you sedated on the carrier—

“I'm so sorry.” Jake sat in the medical bay watching over you as you slept. “I'm so sorry Kerner.” He spoke to himself as he thought about all the times Bradley had told him in drunken bar conversations how much he loved you, his best friend. “But he did what he did to make sure you got out, that you would be alright.”

“He left me.” You mumbled just loud enough for Jake to hear. He didn’t know you were awake. You weren’t supposed to be, or so he thought. “He told me he loved me, and then he died.” You would have cried if you weren’t so dehydrated. “I lost my person. How do I recover from that?”

Jake didn’t know what to tell you, so he didn’t speak. He simply held back his own tears and kissed your forehead.

“I don’t know Drifter, I really don’t know.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Present

“We’re gonna head out for a drink, just you and me.” Jake explained as he pulled you in under his arm a little more. The two of you were both dressed in your formal wear. It wasn't exactly the attire for casual drinking.

“Oh, I can't Hangman.” You denied the proposal almost immediately. “I have to head home and sort out a bunch of Roosters belongings.” Jake understood, but he also knew you needed a friend before anything else right now. And what kind of friend would Jake Seresin be if he let the love of Bradley Bradshaw's life drown in her own inner turmoil?

“Yeah, but before you go do that, I think you need to whine about it some more to me first.” Jake knew that the last thing you wanted to do was to have to pack away your best friend's belongings knowing he’d never need them again. He guessed it was the downfall of sharing an apartment off base with the guy. “I'd be pretty pissed off too if Bradshaw left his crap lying around and I had to clean up after him, so, you definitely need a drink or two.”

You didn't reply straight away as you walked through the cemetery that now held three Bradshaws. But when you did, Jake's heart sank just a little more inside his chest for you.

“What are you afraid of?” You asked softly as you stopped and turned to face the man who hadnt left your side since you were brought back to the carrier. Completely distraught and shell shocked. “That I’m gonna–” Before you could even finish your sentence Jake interrupted.

“I'm afraid that you’re gonna keep crawling into my bed after busting into my apartment in the middle of the night.” That much was true, you had done that a handful of times. But to be fair, Jake never locked his door. He really needed to start doing that. “Look, Rooster left his Bronco to me.” Jake sighed as he looked up at the sky, watching as rain threatened to fall. “But he also left me you too.” He explained with a solemn smile. “It's just us now and I don't know, if you need someone to bitch to or just be–” It was your turn to interrupt.

“My person.”

“I don't know what you mean?” Jake sighed as he looked back over his shoulder up to where Bradley's grave lay. He swore he could see him, watching Jake as he tried his best to comfort the love Bradley left behind. The love he hoped Jake would cherish as much as he did.

“But you do.” You smiled softly before you pulled Jake in for a hug. You'd never see your best friend again in the land of the living, but you had a person in Jake Seresin. And he was determined to keep his promise to your dad, to watch over you always. He was going to be your person no matter what.

“I've got you Kerner.” Jake rubbed his hand up and down your back to soothe your cries. He could feel you crying in his arms. You'd been through a lot, lost a lot too. But you weren't about to lose Jake.

Not now, not ever. “I've got you.”

***~****~***~***~***~***~***

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#ailesswhumptober2023 #leahs whumptober masterlist #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw whump #tw: character death #rooster top gun #bradley rooster bradshaw

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tokoyamisstuff · 1 year

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Could we get a fic where the reader is a simp for buggy? Like he overhears them

omg YES! sorry for the wait, I'm not quite satisfied with how it turned out but I still hope you'll enjoy. 💕

Synopsis: Is it just your imagination, or is your captain flirting with you?

Warnings: Tiny bit of insecure Buggy, but otherwise none.

Tags: GN! Reader, a bit of Misunderstanding, not proofread, Reader is downbad for the clown just like me tbh

"And for my next trick, I need a volunteer from the audience!"

The whole circus tent fell dead silent, all hostaged villagers facing the ground in hope not to be chosen. You sat among them, arms crossed in front of your chest and laid back on the chair as Buggy scanned the room.

Actually you had been ordered to keep an eye on your victims, but instead your gaze was permalocked on your captain - especially now that he had tossed away his coat.

Damn.

You bit your lip at the sight of Buggy's skin shimmering softly under the spotlight, highlighting how his muscles flexed as he confidently strode from row to row.

Oh, the things you'd to for him to take off some more clothes...

The clown came to a halt, clearly announcing something yet you were too caught up in some very impure fantasies to notice.

"What's wrong, Y/N? Stagefright?"

The prisoners insincere laugh started at your crewmate's sign, and you automatically went along with it, even though your mind was still currently stuck with adoring this trademark smile of his that made your knees weak even while sitting...

...wait- what the hell did he just say?!

"Y/N?" A severed hand floated in front of your face, waving frantically as it startled you out of your daydream. The man it belonged to followed shortly after, sounding almost worried. "You're alright over here?"

"I- uh, me?" you pointed to yourself with a puzzled expression, all flabbergasted at the situation you suddenly found yourself in. "Why me?"

"You'll see." Buggy winked and you already felt like fainting, dear god how were you supposed to assist him with anything when you couldn't even string together a whole sentence in his presence?

And yet the clown was stubbornly persistent in his demand.

When waving you over wouldn't suffice, he simply grabbed your wrist and practically dragged you from your seat and into the spotlight, his bright grin never faltering.

What shenanigan did he had in mind this time? And why would he want you of all people to help him out?

"A great applause for Y/N - tonight's top act!" You rose an eyebrow, knowing Buggy hated to share the spotlight, let alone give it to someone else...

...yet before you could end your pondering, Buggy took your hand as be bowed down to your height, kissing your knuckles as he looked up to you with an intense stare.

ShitshitshitshitshitSHIT!

Your mind went completely blank, stomach filling to the brim with metaphorical butterflies that made you wanna puke.

The act didn't even start and you already wanted the earth to swallow you before he'd become aware of the effect you had on him.

Buggy's eyes never left yours even when he spinned on his heels and strolling towards a giant wheel. "Our dear Y/N is a very skilled fighter, I'll have you know" he explained and you wondered what it was he wanted to imply...

...until he commanded two of the other performers to strap him to the wheel. "What kind of pirate would I be if I don't prove my fearlessness?"

Does he want you to do what you think he wants you to do? Is he for real?! Fuck, is he crazy? Of course he kinda is, you know him long enough to be sure of that - but does he have a deathwish or something?!

You were mentally debating whether to listen to your fight or flight instinct, however you decided to just walk up and confront him at least about the current matter.

"C-Captain, I can't-"

"Shh." A sole finger of his covered your lips to keep you from refusing. "This is gonna be great. I trust you with my life, sweetheart"

Your eyes widened for a split second as the nickname dropped from his mouth, but before you could make sense of it Buggy pointed somewhere to shoo you away. "The knives are on the barrel next to the entrance...

...Oh, and Y/N? Believe in yourself."

Gosh, hopefully people think you're sweating so much because of the headlights.

Maybe it is a test, you contemplated as you examined the blade in your hand, trying to get a good grip before starting the action. Not exactly a throwing knife, but it'll suffice.

Yeah, you haven't really been useful up until now, at least when it came to the circus.

Of course you worked as hard as everyone else and no one rushed you to find a talent you could show off in here, but sometimes it felt as if you were just not as special as the rest of the crew.

"They'll never understand your worth, Y/N - but I do."

Buggy's words echoed in your head, lifting up your spirits as you remembered the day your paths crossed. Like many of his crew you were an outcast, lonely and misunderstood - until he came along and reduced the town that abused you all those years into rubble and ashes.

Yes, he indeed saved you from a meaningless life. Gave you a home, a family, a purpose. And you'd do everything he'd ask of you to at least repay a fraction of this tremendous debt.

Buggy the Clown was your hero, your idol...

...and the man you had fallen head over heels for from the very start.

You took a deep breath, earning a proud nod of your superior as your stance became serious.

The first knive hit the right side of his forearm. Five more to go.

"C'mon, don't be so soft on me, love. I know you can go closer without doing any harm." Ugh. Your crush sometimes really made you forget how insufferable he can be.

Another, this time right between his legs. "Now that's more like it" he cackled, nervously adding "Be careful with that part, though. Still need it, if you know what I mean."

Would he shut up already instead of making you even more jittery?! Focus, Y/N, focus!

The remaining knives plunged into the wooden wheel easily. One by his foot, one next to his head, one right between his spead fingers.

Buggy wordlessly gesticulated as far as his restrained self could, and you immediately understood - you didn't like the suggestion, however.

Loud gasps mixed with horrified screams as your last blade had pierced his abdomen right in the middle...

...just for him to put himself together as if nothing happened, rushing to your side again through all the turmoil.

You nudged his side, unusually straightforwards for your standards. "I could've hurt you, killed even, idiot!" you scolded him quiet enough that only his ears would perceive.

"Childsplay" he whispered back, and only now you realized just how close his face was to yours. "I just needed to split myself in two before your knive would."

"How could you be so sure about it?"

"I'm an expert at human nature" he bragged cheekily, "And a great duo like us should know each other inside out, right?"

What? A duo, you and him?

Just a few minutes before you were certain that the captain was indifferent to your existence, asides from your function in his crew...

...if only you knew that your feelings for him were the complete opposite of onesided - Buggy was just way more discrete.

Out of a whim, Buggy kissed your cheek before twirling you around., presenting you to the audience one last time. "Another applause for Y/N, our new shining star!" he cheered along with your crewmates, squeezing your hand and bowing down together...

...only for you to flee the scene as soon as your captain released you.

The show went on for another few minutes, with Buggy unable to concentrate ever since you ran away before he could even react.

Of course your crewmates knew very well what was going on. Your not-so-secret crush was basically known amongst the whole team except for the man in question. But they had promised you to keep it to themselves - and honestly, they knew better than to involve themselves into their emotionally instable captain's private life.

After all deeds of the evening were done, the clown rushed backstage, ignoring the celebrating crew inviting him for drinks.

As if he could even think to enjoy himself before making sure you were alright!

"Did I do something wrong?" he still wondered, since all of his efforts were with only the utmost best intent. Maybe he went a little overboard, though.

"Calm down already, would you?" Buggy stopped in his tracks when he heared Cabaji's voice - out of your dressing room.

After he finally got so close to you tonight, this felt like a punch to the gut.

"How can I ever be calm again?!" you blurted out in response, and your captain couldn't help but eavesdrop what this is about.

"He kissed me" you continued, "I-I mean on the cheek, but that counts, right?" Dramatically throwing your hands into the air, you began frantically rubbing your still hot face. "I can never look at him again, ahh!"

Oh.

Guilt started creeping into his heart, alongside an ache that was all too familiar.

How could he have been so blind?

Of course you were just as repulsed and afraid of him as anyone else would. What was he thinking, kissing you just like that? It was the heat of the moment paired with months of unrequited longing, but nonetheless unexcusable.

He needs to apologize and make up for this, no matter how...

...but then, he heared Cabaji's answer.

"Wasn't this exactly what you wanted, though?" Your friend leaned against a wardrobe, half-irritatedly adding "Seriously, I can't listen to you vent about this little crush any longer. Just confess and get it over with, damnit!"

"Little? That's the understatement of the year!" you blurted out, grabbing the green man by the shoulders and shaking him softly. "I swear, this is getting out of hand. If the captain would ask me to suck him off while he's sitting on his throne, I'd gladly accept."

"Ugh, way too much detail" Cabaji shuddered, making you cackle with a bit of glee. "I'll never get this image out of my head."

"Can you blame me?" Without even being aware, your frown turned into a smile as soon as you began talking about Buggy. "The captain is so handsome. He's strong, talented, funny, and incredibly charming as well!"

"...if you're gonna start your usual dialogue, I'd rather leave" he retorted, already picking up and swinging onto his unicycle. "Want to join us, get a drink or something to cheer you up?"

"No, I'm fine dwelling in my self-made misery, thank you." Cabaji smirked at those words, patting your back as means of comfort befor exiting. "Dramaqueen. See you later!"

"Bye." You forced yourself to crack a smile for the man, nodding at him mutely as if to say "I'm gonna be okay."

However, it didn't take long after he left until another knock at your door made you jump.

"Forgot something?" you assumed it was Cabaji again, because who else could you expect while everyone else was partying right now?

No answer.

Sighing, you cocked your head to the direction oft the entrance, ready to cuss someone out...

...and ultimatively almost falling when you saw who was really lurking in the doorframe.

"C-Captain!" you almost yelled in shock, covering your mouth instantly afterwards, out of embarassment.

A smile tugged on the edge of Buggy's lips, his tone unusual gentle as he sheepishly let himself in. "The one and only."

"What-" you stumbled across every syllable, very awkwardly trying to act cool yet panicking on the inside. "Umm, what are you doing here? Drank too much and got lost again? Hahaha...oh god."

Your anxiety skyrocketed with every second passing that he failed to answer - instead chuckling softly at your cringeworthy joke.

"Nope" the clown finally answered, casually dropping down on the bench right next to you. "I'm exactly where I want to be."

"Wh-" Hesitating if you truly wanted to hear the answer, you took a deep breath to get at least a fraction of the composure he'd always, unknowingly, easily stole from you back. "Did you hear us talk?"

"Huh? No, why?" Buggy acted clueless to spare you the embarassment - but oh, if only you knew what thrill was boiling inside of him because of your earlier words. "Badmouthing your captain maybe?"

He winked and you felt yourself tremble in both excitement and relief. "Haha, never! We respect you way too much for that."

Yeah, you still have a chance to not fuck this up entirely!

"What else did you come here for, then?"

The pirate would look anywhere but your eyes, grabbing a random item from the shelf to fidget with, in order to calm then nerves. "Just wanted to congratulate you on the marvellous performance."

"Oh, most of it wasn't my work, right?" Not daring to look at him, you nervously rubbed the back of your head. "I-I mean I could only shine because your light shines so brightly"

Ohmygodwhatthehelldidyoujustsay?! This is the worst...

...or is it?

Stroking his ego like this is dangerous if you intended to keep your pants on tonight, or so he thought.

"My dear, I guarantee you: Together our star shines even brighter as the sun." Buggy would take both of your hands into his much bigger ones, his watercolor eyes scanning your face for any reaction. "As matter of fact, I want you to always be at my side from now on."

In the show, right? RIGHT?!

A chill ran down your spine when you felt Buggy's warm breath on your ear, his lips only inches away from yours. "What are you thinking about, love?"

Hellshitfuckohmygodisthisreallyhappening?!

"...you did hear us."

Even though he found your little pout adorable, Buggy couldn't help the outburst of laughter, seemingly enjoying your annoyance to the effect he had on you...

...well, it certainly fits his character. Asshole.

"Maybe so." A mixture of mischief and genuine joy was written on his face, managing to turn your frown into an almost-smile. "Would it be that bad?"

"Depends on-"

The man wouldn't even leave time to finish your answer before he pulled you into his lap, now grinning from ear to ear.

"You know, maybe it's time for a more private aftershow-party..."

#buggy #buggy / reader #buggy x you #buggy opla #opla #one piece netflix #one piece #self insert #writing #oneshot #fanfiction #anon #request

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sillystappen · 1 month

Text

@justlookingforf1fanfictions gave me the idea of a maxiel! high school AU (I made everyone seniors) with discovering sexualities and I am SO DOWN for that. I've never attempted smut so this is really just dipping my toes in (though this is like 1% on the smut scale it's mentioned thinking). If hope this suffices for you though it may have gotten a tiny bit away from the original prompt lol. As in: I gave Daniel a mild sexuality crisis. But don't worry for the most part this is pure fluff.

Is It Chill That You’re In My Head?

Daniel is so ready to leave school, move away from this stupid town in the middle of Nevada and finally live the dream life of partying until 3am, having sex with the hottest women ever and getting some well-paid job that he actually likes compared to the shitty one he has at the corner shop.

Alas, he is not quite there yet. He just has to finish his final year of high school and June cannot come fast enough.

It's April, a pretty mild and sunny day where it's warm but not warm enough to make it feel like you have been shoved into a furnace. Daniel has this last month before exam season rolls around and his teachers have been breathing down his neck about revising for said exams instead of playing soccer with his mates in his spare time. Honestly, they need to get off of his back - he'll pass just fine, and his mocks went as smoothly as butter on a warm bit of toast.

He lifts his head off the desk ever so slightly when his teacher calls for everyone's attention. "Everyone listen up, we have a very late new student with us."

A new student? Now? Jeez that must suck for them, having to move schools right before the end of senior year. Daniel shrugs to himself and drops his head back on the desk.

"Hello, I'm Max Verstappen," a new voice says and oh, that's an accent. Daniel snaps his head up to look at the new boy, suddenly intrigued. The new boy, Max, seems nearly as tall as Daniel if he weren't so withdrawn into himself (clearly anxious to be at the front of the class with everyone's eyes on him), with sandy blonde hair and, despite looking from his seat towards the back of the class, the bluest eyes he has ever seen. They remind him of the ocean, beautiful and clear but also hiding something in their depths.

Daniel needs to know more about this guy.

"I expect everyone to welcome Max and be kind to him in the last months you all are here," his teacher says before turning to Max, "just find an empty seat and sit there for now."

Max nods and looks out towards the class before quietly walking down the middle to where Daniel is near the back. He gestures to the chair next to Daniel, the one by the window that nobody really likes because the sun can get in your eyes.

Daniel is slow to reply, not realising that Max was asking if he could move so he can sit there. For a while they just stare at each other. "Oh yeah, sure," he mumbles, the realisation eventually hitting him, tucking his chair in a bit so Max can walk behind him and sit down.

Max plops down next to him and rests his head in his hand, tilting it away from the window and towards their teacher, who started explaining some literature principles from the start of the year (lest they forget).

Daniel doesn't pay attention, he's much more interested in the way Max chews his pencil while he's thinking.

1 hour later, at the end of class, Daniel finally speaks to him. Max hasn't said a word since he sat down so Daniel still can't place the accent. They have both stood up, and slung their backpacks over their shoulders and Daniel deliberately stands in Max's path.

"Hi! I'm Daniel, nice to meet you mate," he smiles and sticks his hand out.

Max looks at it for a moment before shaking Daniel's hand in small , gentle motions for a second. "Max, but you know that." He speaks! Thank the Lord.

Daniel chuckles, "yeah, I do. I like your voice, where are you from?"

Max flushes. "Thank you. I'm Dutch. And Belgian too, but raised in the Netherlands."

"Oh that's awesome! I'm just born and raised here, nothing exciting."

"You seem exciting," Max says, as if it's a normal thing to say, like the sun is out, or you need oxygen to breathe. But he smiles, just a little quirk of his lips, and Daniel's brain unhelpfully supplies 'cute'.

It's then that Daniel realises they're still holding hands and in his sudden surprise of his own brain and that, he yanks his hand away from Max's maybe a little to forcefully because Max's smile drops.

"Sorry, aha. I just remembered I gotta go to my next class, as much as I'd like to stay and chat." Daniel rubs the back of his neck out of awkwardness as he half lies, because he really does have another class to go to but it's just two rooms down the hall.

Max nods, still emotionless, "me too." He steps around Daniel, lightly pushing him, and walks out the classroom door.

Daniel spends the rest of the day in his own head. God, why can't he just be normal for once? He's made things weird with the new guy and acts like he's attracted to the guy, like he's interested, which he's not mind you. Daniel Ricciardo is 100% straight, straight out of straightdom if you will. Sure it was nice to hold his hand, and he wants to make Max smile because it's cute and his eyes really are blue like the ocean, but that's just pure platonic feelings, he swears. He just wants to be Max's friend and know why the hell he came to butt-fuck-nowhere Nevada instead of staying in the Netherlands. And why now? Max just produces numerous question marks in his head and it's so confusing.

He doesn't speak to Max again until the following day at lunch, when he enters the school cafeteria. Daniel grins at him and calls him over to sit with him and his mates, Michael and Blake. Max seems hesitant but agrees. He sits next to Daniel and opposite Michael, though makes sure to put a bit of distance between himself and Daniel, just in case.

They hadn't spoken in literature class because Daniel was about 10 seconds away from being late and he really didn't want to annoy Max at 9 in the morning.

"Who's this Daniel?" Blake asks.

"This is my new friend Maxy." Daniel says.

"Maxy?" Michael questions. And shit, Daniel didn't realise he had said that. He doesn't really do nicknames for anyone, unless his friends decide to be annoying then an affectionate dickhead or asshole does get thrown around.

"It's Max," Max eventually speaks up, his cheeks tinged red, "I'm new. I joined Daniel's literature class yesterday."

"Oh, well, welcome Max. I'm Blake and this is Michael."

"Hi." Max's response is clipped and Daniel can't stand it. Blake and Michael give him a look of 'who is this person and why are you trying to befriend him?' and Daniel just shrugs at them.

"So, Maxy, Max, can I call you Maxy?" Daniel asks before launching his next question. Max looks at him, and Daniel feels like he can see into his soul and is about to pull out the thread keeping him together. Max stares like he is trying solve a puzzle and he must've found his answer because he says yes.

"Sweet!" Daniel swears he catches Max smiling at him when he cheers. It's a small thing yet again but Daniel calls it a victory. "Maxy, what are your plans when you finish high school? I'm going to do sports science hopefully."

"My dad wants me to do law." Max sighs and picks at his food. To Daniel, everything about that sentence felt off.

"Yeah, but what do you want to do?" Daniel prods.

"It doesn't matter."

"I don't know Maxy, it matters to me." Daniel half expects to descend into an argument but what he doesn't expect is the way Max looks at him, a real smile, albeit close-lipped but real and big, stretches across his face. Max looks down in an attempt to supress it, and Daniel is having none of that.

"Hey." Daniel shifts closer and brings his hand under Max's chin, lifting his head so Max looks at him. Then Daniel just stops working, his following words disappearing into thin air.

Max looks at him like he's a mystery and a wonder, which is clearly a good thing judging by the way he is still smiling, albeit a little smaller and softer. Daniel lets himself move his hand to cup Max's jaw and he swears he feels Max lean into it. If Daniel had to describe Max right then, he would've told you he looked beautiful. Maybe he could-

Michael coughs suddenly and Daniel drops his hand, he and Max springing apart and what the hell was that?

"Literature and writing," Max says suddenly. "What I actually want. It's literature and writing."

Conversation goes back to normal after that. Towards the end of the day, Michael corners him at the school gate.

"Look, mate, you know if there's anything you need to tell me then I'm here for you," he says, which is weird in itself because Michael knows everything there is to know about Daniel.

"What are you on about?" Daniel asks.

"Just... you know... about you and Max-"

"There's really nothing to it. I want to be his friend. I'm not gay," Daniel cuts him off sharply, the vague implication getting to him a little.

Michael remains calm. "I'm not saying you are; you don't have to label yourself. I'm simply saying if you were interested in Max the same way you would be interested in a girl then it's ok."

"I'm not. I literally have known him for two days and it wasn't like he just walked his pretty self into class and rocked my world just like that."

Michael raises an eyebrow at the word 'pretty' but doesn't comment on it. "Alright, man. I guess I will see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, see ya." Daniel waves and walks out the gate.

The rest of the week and the next one continues in a similar pattern. He'd see Max in class, then hang out with him at lunch and something weird would happen that Daniel would shake off, such as them linking pinkie fingers in the middle of class only to let go when the teacher calls on Max, or Daniel wrapping an arm around Max when he sits down with them and forgetting to let him go until Michael eyes him questioningly. Daniel just concludes that he's simply a physically affectionate friend to Max, who has not complained at all about it.

Max slowly opens up to the group, mainly Daniel. He tells him all about the Netherlands and what school was like there (pretty interesting stuff, if Daniel is honest), as well as why his dad relocated them to the states. Turns out his dad thinks there's more money to be made as a prosecutor in the US than the Netherlands and chose now because he wants Max to go to an Ivy League school to follow in his footsteps.

One day Max tells him and only him that his mother and sister are still in Belgium, and that his parents are divorced because his father is abusive. Daniel hugs him that day and tells him that he is welcome over any time should he need it.

He learns that Max is a huge nerd though, much like the rest of them and Daniel usually ends up on the receiving end of a book-rant. He doesn't understand what Max is talking about most of the time, but he talks so passionately and uses his hands to emphasis every word ever that he just cannot find it in himself to stop him. It's frankly adorable.

He also goes to watch them play soccer on Fridays. He doesn't play, mainly because Max claims he isn't very good, but he is a very good cheerleader for Daniel, much to the complaint of everyone else.

"But Max, I have scored more goals this match than Daniel," Blake had once said.

"So? Daniel needs the extra motivation then!" Max had proclaimed.

Daniel loves how comfortable Max is with everyone now, and how he has grown out of his shell and starts to be more reciprocal to Daniel's affections, so to speak, even initiating some of his own. For example, Max often taps his foot against Daniel's which sends warmth through Daniel's body. Another time Max just simply leaned into Daniel and rested his head on his shoulder while he was talking to Blake. Daniel, once again, didn't think much of it let alone properly realise it until someone pointed it out.

Max also tries to teach the group a little Dutch but eventually gives up because according to him it sounds like they're gargling water. Max burst out laughing when Daniel attempted to say 'I am 18 years old'.

It was the first time Daniel had seen him like that and he wanted to bottle up that laugh so he could hear it forever. And God, his smile is gorgeous. His whole face lights up and his smile makes the corners of his eyes crinkle. Daniel has made it his mission to get that to happen again.

Daniel is also realising that maybe, just maybe, these aren't exactly thoughts you have about a friend. He wants to protect Max, to hold him and never let go, but also be the reason he's happy and laughs. However Daniel has never ever been into a boy, and it kinda ruins the 'dream life tm' he has pictured for himself because now said picture is starting to have Max in it: the two of them on a sofa watching some shitty Netflix show. He curses Michael in his mind, blaming him for putting the idea of being with Max in his head.

As he lies on his bed on Sunday, end of the second week with Max, he allows himself to think about kissing Max. Max's lips always look soft and maybe it would be as nice as a girl. He'd hold his face the same way he did two weeks ago, eventually thread his fingers into Max's hair as he kisses him. Girls usually like that. Maybe Max would be in his lap, holding on to his torso like a lifeline as Daniel deepens the kiss into a full-on make-out session, their tongues dancing together as they run their hands along each others bodies and up their shirts and the feeling of Max's skin would be enough to drive him crazy as Max pushes him down, smiling against his lips and-

Daniel sits up abruptly, forcing out the images from his brain before he ends up with more than a semi. He then startles because holy fuck he is getting turned on by thinking about Max.

He immediately calls Michael.

"Bitch, what do you want? It's 1am." Michael groaned down the phone.

"I'm definitely attracted to Max but like... I'm not gay."

"Congrats on finally realising. I called it from day 1... well day 2 for you," Michael says smugly.

"I hate how well you know me sometimes." Daniel grumbles.

"No you don't."

Daniel simply hums. "I'm not gay though. I still like women."

"As I said, you don't need to label it. You just like Max."

The words are comforting; Daniel still likes women, but he also likes Max which means he is still mostly straight. And being called bi or pan also doesn't seem right. He just likes Max.

"Now answer me this," Michael says, "is this just a physical thing or-"

"No! I want to know everything I can about Max. I want to make him laugh and smile and protect him. Y'know, all that sappy shit. I mean, I do think he's very nice to look at but..."

"Yeah yeah I hear you buddy. That's good for you. Anyway, I'm hanging up and going to sleep. You should do the same."

Daniel's phone beeps before he can say good night.

It's felt... good admitting it aloud. It felt like it became normal instead of being this weird thing he had been trying to avoid for two weeks and living in a state of denial. Saying it to Michael was akin to a rock being lifted off his chest and he can finally breathe again.

But just as Daniel is drifting off to sleep he wondered how the hell he is going to face Max the next morning.

Monday morning comes around Max sits in the same spot by the window he always does. Daniel admits that he does shamelessly stare at Max, and how the morning sun makes him look golden. Full send, right? He likes Max in the same way he would like a girl, so he shouldn't be acting any differently. That's his solution to last night's conundrum. Max doesn't seem bothered when he catches Daniel though, and smiles softly at him, making Daniels heart do little flutters.

They can't stare at each other forever so eventually Daniel pulls his gaze away and half-tunes into the lesson on the importance of the curtain being red or some shit like that. He also heard some paper ripping but makes a conscious choice to not look for the sound.

At the end of the lesson, Max taps his shoulder and places an origami flower behind Daniel's ear, made from a torn page of Max's notebook.

"For you," Max says, then walks off happily to his next class. Daniel carefully touches it, not removing it from where it's sat. The stem is tucked into his curls and the flower seems intricately made. It feels romantic and Daniel can't help but blush as he traces the folds of the paper with his fingertip. He doesn't move it for the rest of the day.

Lando, a junior Daniel knows but wouldn't say he's friends with, finds him in the hallway between classes and comments on it immediately. "Ooh Daniel, who's that from? A girlfriend?"

"Haha, no it's-" Daniel cuts himself off. It's different telling Lando than it was telling Michael. Shit, is he ready to even be out like that, to where the whole school knows? Sure he has only a few months left but still, it's a big thing.

"Who's it from then?" Lando prompts, reaching up to touch it.

Daniel swats his hand away. "A classmate," is what Daniel settles on saying. It's technically still the truth.

"Damn, you should ask this classmate out. She is definitely into you!"

"You think?" Daniel tries (and fails) not to sound too hopeful.

"Duh! This is some master-craft shit," Lando says like it's obvious. "Whoever gave this to you must like you. And you clearly like her with the way you're parading around with it."

Daniel nods and scampers off to his next class.

He spends the whole hour wondering how the hell he will even tell Max he likes him and well... he's got nothing. Sure, he said 'Full Send' and all that but Max is different, from a girl and everyone else. He wants it to be important and not just dumped on him during lunch break like most people do. Max is special and deserves to be treated as such.

Therefore the logical thing to do is ask him on a date after school and take him somewhere nice (which is pretty hard in middle-of-nowhere Nevada but not totally impossible) and romance the fuck out of him and potentially kiss him.

Boom! He has a plan! (Someone be proud of him; he's putting himself out there for Max.) Now to set said plan into motion.

At lunch, he sees Max but he keeps it as normal as possible, because really there are no boundaries with them. When Max notices he still has the paper flower exactly where Max left it, he beams like the sun, eyes scrunching up and smile splitting his face. "You kept it," he says.

"Of course, I wore it proudly all day," and Max preens at that. Daniel continues, "It's so pretty, I can tell. Where did you learn how to make this?"

"I got bored one day, and thought that it would be nice to give someone I like."

"Aw Maxy," Daniel coos, reaching to hold Max's hand on the table and lacing their fingers, "I love it."

Daniel can tell Michael is giving a 'really?-right-in-front-of-my-salad' look but hey, he should've known this would happen. Blake has gotten used to their shenanigans but even he looks at them weirdly. Daniel doesn't let it get to him, not this time.

He shuffles closer to Max, pressing their thighs together and starts to chat with Michael about their god awful math class. He never shies away from Max, who almost melts next to him and Daniel fights the urge to kiss him there and then.

He's practically bouncing off the walls of the hallway when the bell for the end of school rings. He lingers by the gate, waiting for any sight of Max and beelines towards him when he sees the familiar ocean blue eyes. "Maxy!"

"Oh, hi Dan." Dan. Not long after Maxy became a thing, Max started using Dan instead of Daniel, and Daniel loves it. It feels intimate to hear Max call him that when everyone else uses Danny or just Daniel. "What's up? I do have to go though, so I'm gonna have to rush you."

Ah of course, his dad and Max's extracurriculars. Daniel makes it quick. "pleasegoonadatewithme."

"...what?" Ok maybe too quick.

Daniel clears his throat and plucks the origami flower from behind his ear and starts twirling it in his hand, watching the flower spin and admiring the petals as he repeats himself. "Maxy, please go on a date with me."

Max doesn't speak, and to fill the silence and to stop himself from panicking, Daniel keeps talking.

"I really like you, like had a full on gay crisis over you because I've never felt this way about a boy like ever and you're like so you and so so perfect, and I know this town doesn't offer much but I will try my damn best to make it special and all romantic and-"

"Dan. Yes." Max eventually says, cutting him off. He's smiling ear to ear in the way Daniel loves the most. "I really like you, too. I thought it was pretty obvious. I don't go around making those," Max gestures at the flower, "for anyone. I told you that they're for the people I like. Besides, I also don't let just anyone touch me like you do."

"Oh," Daniel says dumbly. Because, yeah, that all tracks.

"Now I do have to go, but I have some free time on Thursday after school if that works for you?"

"Yeah, that's brilliant Maxy," Daniel says a bit too eagerly for his liking.

Max plucks the flower from Daniels hand and puts it back behind his ear, tucking it gently into his curls. He presses a quick kiss to Daniel's lips and says a quick "bye" before darting out the gate, leaving Daniel standing there, touching his lips in a daze.

June can wait. Thursday cannot come fast enough.

#i was possessed by a fic demon and wrote all of this in like 2 sittings #also as a brit i also suffered using the word soccer for football and math without the s but yk #i hope my lowkey suffering was worth it #this will be on ao3 too :)#I am tempted to write a Max POV called I'd Date You With Paper Flowers but... idk if people would want that #this is also a tiny subtle loveletter to one of my favourite fics ever #just some of the details are a nod to the fic (10 points if you catch it)#and origami flowers are amazing and I love making them so that's why I added them #f1 #formula 1 #maxiel #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #ao3 #tumblr fic

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galvanizedfriend · 4 months

Text

Klaroline WIP Wednesday

This is my humble contribution to this wip Weds! It's a tiny little snippert from the next chapter of Speed Dating, which has been sitting untouched for way too long. Genuinely hoping this might give me the will to keep going because I am this 🤏 close to the finish line (before editing starts and the finish line gets away from me again but shhhh, we're not going there yet).

She doesn't see Elijah again for the next two days. Whatever he's in town for, he either glides around the apartment like a ghost or their schedules are totally at odds. If not for the extravagantly fancy woolen overcoat by the door and what she has quickly learned is a very particular brand of moodiness for Klaus, she would've thought he'd already left.

It's probably for the best, considering the horror of that first meeting, but curiosity is an unscratchable itch. Elijah has intrigued her for years, more so than any of Klaus’ other siblings. Putting a face - well, a little more than a face, really - to the person is a given, but she can't help the desire to dig deeper. It’s in her nature to be nosy. About him, about Klaus, about the whole family.

Despite the fact she's lived with one and been friends with another for years, the Mikaelsons remain a mystery to her. The more she knows, the more confusing it gets. Nothing about them seems to make much sense, and Caroline hasn't even decided if that's a super-rich, children of the 1% thing, or if the Mikaelsons are especially wacky even among their peers.

After two days, though, she's just about lost hope of bumping into Elijah again. She doubts he'll be staying for much longer, especially with Klaus' cordial show of hospitality. Not that Elijah seemed bothered - being rude to siblings for no apparent reason seems to be one of those things that are normal by Mikaelson standard. It's just how they operate.

She's just back from a shift at the hospital, idly scrolling through her Instagram while she waits for the microwave to deliver her sad leftover dinner. Bitterly, she realizes it has been months since she last updated her feed. Her last photo is with Tyler, for crying out loud. Should she even keep it there? What's the etiquette for when you break up with someone for no earth-shattering reasons, the relationship just fizzling out and running its course? Is it rude to delete all evidence of him from her social media records? Is it expected? Will he be upset? Has he deleted her from his social media?

In fact, now that she thinks about it... Is Tyler even seeing anyone?

"Huh," she mumbles to herself, fully internalizing in that second how truly messy her life has become that she hasn't even cyber-stalked her ex to know what he's been up to since they broke up. That's a whole new level of rock bottom unlocked, right there.

"Miss Forbes?"

Caroline nearly drops her phone when she looks up to find Elijah standing by the kitchen door. She swears to God the man is unnaturally feline; she didn't even hear him approach.

Unlike in their first encounter, he's now fully clothed and, unsurprisingly, he looks just as good as he did without a stitch on. Maybe better. His suit looks as though it was sewn directly onto his body by an Italian master tailor. The range of that man.

"Hey!" She cringes at her high pitch, standing up straight.

His smile is affable as he steps further into the kitchen. "Do I interrupt?"

"What? No. I was just scrolling."

Caroline feels suddenly very self-conscious of just how crazy frumpy she must look standing in front of Elijah. The man is a poster boy for wellness and prosperity, while she is... Well. Not.

Suffice to say she's wearing a Timberwolves t-shirt from her long-gone cheerleading days in high school with at least five visible holes on it.

"I've been meaning to apologize for that horrid incident the other day," he starts. Caroline wouldn’t have brought the incident up, assuming he would rather forget it ever happened, but if it causes him any measure of discomfort to have been butt naked in front of a complete stranger, he does not show, which - now that she thinks about, is something else that feels very Mikaelson-esque. They do all seem to be incredibly comfy in their own skins. "Niklaus warned me that you would be home soon, but my despair for a proper shower was stronger than caution. I should've been more careful."

"You don't have to apologize. It's fine. It was nothing." That would've been a good place to stop. A very mature and dignified let's leave it at that and never mention it again. But her stupid mouth just keeps going. "I see naked people all the time at the hospital. It's totally unremarkable." Elijah's eyebrows inch upwards into a mildly curious expression. "I don't mean that you are unremarkable!" she corrects, and then, getting immediately horrified at the implications, adds, "You're not - I mean, you're ok, you're - obviously. Not that I was looking, I wasn’t - I just mean - You know what? I'm just gonna shut up now." She snaps her lips sealed, half-wishing that a hole would open underneath her feet and suck her into the magma of the earth.

#klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #klaus x caroline #kc fanfiction #klaroline wip wednesday #yokan writes #or tries to #it's possible i'm having a lot of fun with Elijah in this chapter you guys

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yun-fangz · 8 months

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dilf jongho x fem!reader, suggestive, mdni

note: jongho and the reader are not together, the sexual tension is VERY palpable though (pls... just get it over with)

not proofread pls don't come for me

thinking about dilf!jongho who takes notice of the big bow resting on your hair. when he questions you, you simply give him a small twirl showing it off to him.

"you like it?" you ask, batting your eyelashes at him and letting out a shy giggle.

like it? fuck, he loved it.. a little too much. he was obsessed with how much cuter you looked; with how the long ribbons ends cascaded down your hair. it started to give him ideas, he wondered how it would fly while he pounded you from behind-

"jongho?" you ask in the midst of his silence, effectively dragging him back to reality. you now give him a faltering nervous smile, "do you not like it..?"

he jumped to answer almost immediately, guilt soaring in his bones.

"i like it! i mean, i love it" he stumbles over his words, once again getting distracted by his own wild thoughts.

you take notice of the effect this has on him, the way his eyes rake over the hair accessory and eventually your own form. you let yourself form a tiny victorious smile as you let him run wild with his thoughts.

"you should wear these more often" he says absentmindedly, eyes now focusing on you as if he's trying to hold back. your smile deepens into a smirk as you think to yourself. it's working.

stepping back, you give him a final glance, that shy look once again plastered on your features. "thank you.." you said quietly, making a show to turn, allowing the bow to bounce and flop right back into place.

wear bows more often you thought to yourself as you walked away..

and so you did, and it tortured him to his core.

imma be honest i could not figure out how to end it so i hope this will suffice, let me know if you want other members or more jongho. 🥹

#yun fangz.works 🪦#ateez writing #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #jongho smut #dilf jongho #yes that needs a tag of its own.#ateez fics #ateez fic

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host-club-hq · 2 years

Text

Indeed: ~This... is Our Ouran Fair~

➼ pairing: kyoya ootori x reader

➼ summary: there's no easy way to say this... but you and tamaki seem to be leaving the host club for good. just like that, you're gone. that is, until a certain pair steps in and declares what they've been feeling all along...

➼ word count: 17.5k

➼ what to expect: "Not like this, y/n."

➼ warnings: heavy angst

➼ chapter navigation

➼ talk to my characters!

➼ thank you all for your support through this whole journey! there will be an announcement post after this at some point to express more thanks and announce some things :) please enjoy! i spent a long time thinking this chapter through

As your chest aches with dread, your feet carry you one step at a time. Just an hour or so after Tamaki's heartbreaking announcement, as you all needed time to collect yourselves after such devastation.

But now, like the absolutely horrible person you are, you're about to drop another devastation on someone else. At least, you hope he'll be devastated. Wait, that came out the wrong way. You mean... you hope he'll miss you.

You had even contemplated leaving without telling anyone. Sweeping it all under the carpet and hoping they don't look underneath. You then decided that it would be cruel, regardless of how you felt about it.

Kyoya insisted that you make an appearance at his estate to tell him your news as you were all so rudely interrupted by Tamaki's world-changing announcement. You truly insisted that it wasn't a big deal and that you should both just return home and let Tamaki's news sink in.

But that wouldn't suffice, of course. Kyoya wants- no, needs to hear what you have to say to him. And... as much as you hate to admit it, even to yourself, you agree. He needs to.

So here you are, where you've been standing motionless for at least seven minutes, standing at Kyoya's estate's front door. You're having an internal battle, your expressions matching your thoughts.

Just as you and your mind are arguing, Kyoya's sister strides along past the front door, spotting you in the window that outlines the door and peers outside. Fuyumi stops in her tracks, tilting her head curiously. Then, without another thought, she pulls open the door and greets you.

You nearly scream, instead settling for a quiet gasp when she appears before you suddenly. She smiles nonetheless, "y/n, what are you doing out here? Are you here for Kyoya?" She opens the door just a bit more to reveal her body.

Are you? Are you here for Kyoya? Should you just turn around and leave, apologizing for the inconvenience and act like nothing's happened? Like nothing's wrong? You should. You should go; you should go right now-

"I think so."

Fuyumi's brows crease. She steps aside despite her confusion, "Come on inside; I believe he's expecting you." She nods toward the entry hall of their estate.

You really wish he wasn't expecting you. With all of your heart, you want this to be a dream, and you're only here to spend time with Kyoya in the comfort of his own home. But, unfortunately, you bear the burden of news to share. And this is only the first step.

It's like you've never been here before. The walls suddenly feel like they're towering above you, and you feel so tiny under the vast ceilings. It's like the first time you ever stepped foot inside his estate- the fateful year of middle school when you met him.

Fuyumi watches you carefully, taking note of your tensed frame as you step inside, glancing back and forth anxiously.

"I'll go get him. Can I get you anything while you wait?"

Her offer startles you. You shake your head, "No, thank you. I'm alright."

Fuyumi can practically see the gears working in your head. She knows you've got something terribly strenuous on your mind. Only time will tell what that is. Maybe that's why you're here to see her baby brother.

"I'll go find Kyoya." You want to stop her. You want to reach out; don't. Leave me time to sprint out the door and back to my car, maybe to drive it off a cliff somewhere.

This is how you know you should not be allowed behind a wheel until this entire ordeal is over... maybe you'll call your driver after this.

Fuyumi returns shortly; your nerves spike, "He's in his room. He'd like you to come to him if you wouldn't mind."

No. He should come to retrieve you. You can't trust yourself even to make it to his room. What if you manage to slip past Fuyumi and leave?

"Sure thing." You nod, offering her a smile as you clutch onto the strap of your purse, brushing past her in the direction of Kyoya's room.

You've made it. You've made it to his door. It's, like, half of the first step of your process, but it's half. That's more than nothing. You're congratulating yourself on the little things for now. You're hoping that'll make things easier in the long run.

You knock thrice, inhaling deeply and exhaling in the same manner. Finally, you hear his voice beckoning you inside.

You do as you're told, twisting the door open and peeking inside to find Kyoya working away on his laptop. He glances up as you enter, shutting it instantly.

"How are you feeling?" He inquires genuinely.

The concern in his tone makes your heart pulse. You sigh, "I could be better. What about you?"

"Likewise. But... we don't have to talk about that right now. Come, sit." He makes space for you on his pristinely white sofa.

And you do, sitting cautiously on the opposite side of the sofa, placing your purse beside you and chewing your lip.

"What're you doing all the way over there?" Kyoya chuckles, patting a seat much closer to him.

Please, don't do that. Your actions betray your mind, gently scooting closer to him and an acceptable distance.

"What is it that you wanted to tell me? Looked like it'd been bothering you all day."

Kyoya vaguely notices that he's doing most of the talking... something very unusual for your dynamic. Something must genuinely be bothering you. Whatever it is, he hopes you trust him enough to let him console you.

"Right, um..." You might bite off your lip from how hard you’re chewing it.

"I don't really know how to start this conversation." You admit, at last, exhaling heavily.

Kyoya nods, "That's alright; take your time." He assures. Although, at your hesitation, doubt is starting to envelop the deepest corners of his own mind. What could it possibly be that's making this so difficult for you?

You nod to yourself, eyes cast to the nearly blinding white of his sofa. You can't bear to look him in the eye, "My father... when he came to the fair today..."

Just at that, Kyoya scowls. His gaze darkens. Has he done something more to you? Have you come here seeking refuge from him? He urges you to continue wordlessly.

"He made it quite clear that he still doesn't approve of my relationships with all of you... especially ours." You still can't encourage yourself to bring your eyes up to his.

"Okay..." That's not a surprise at all. Kyoya's known for a long time that your father disapproves of the shenanigans that go on in Music Room #3. Honestly, he himself disapproves of them sometimes. His own father disapproves of them as well.

"So... he called me today."

Kyoya nods, creasing his brow, "What did he say?"

A beat of deafening silence passes the both of you by. Just the thought of saying it out loud brings tears to your eyes, and you frown.

"y/n, you can tell me. Whatever it is, I'm sure that-"

"I'm moving."

That's not what he expected you to say. In fact, that's worse than what he expected you to say. He expected you to tell him that your father disapproves of your relationship and sent you here to end it. But, you would both find a way around it to see each other. That's what he was expecting you to tell him.

Kyoya knows the answer to his question deeply in his soul, "... where are you moving?"

You lament your answer, brow creasing as your face contorts with the effort of holding back a cry, "London."

That's about as far away from Japan as possible, but Kyoya suspects that's on purpose. His expression darkens.

"When?"

Nothing but a whisper, "Soon… really soon."

Now you and his best friend have abandoned him. Just like that, you both got up and left without another thought about it.

"Isn't there any way you could-?"

"No," You choke, "My father made it very clear that it's absolute."

Kyoya knows... oh, how he knows it's not your fault. Of course, it's not yours, but he can't help the frustration that bubbles up inside his chest, and it takes everything within him to keep from exploding.

"Well, what about your debt to the club?"

Your eyes finally manage to land on his face, blinking with bewilderment, "My... debt?" You exhale breathily. The word almost feels foreign.

Holding back each and every emotion that dares enter his body, Kyoya nods, keeping a straight, unfazed expression, "You still haven't paid it back, you know."

You furrow your brows, "What does that have to do with anything?" You straighten a bit. Blinking, you wipe at budding tears.

You don't recognize Kyoya from the way he's avoiding your gaze. You don't detect the warm, soft personality that he truly has underneath all of those layers of a cold, icy exterior. Instead, you're only met with his side profile.

"You can't repay your debt if you leave, and you know what happens if you break our agreement." Kyoya adjusts his glasses, causing the glare from the light above to hide his tired, miserable eyes.

He's grasping at straws. He's grasping at you. Maybe, if he can hold on to a little bit of pride, a little bit of hope... you might stay. You'll hate him. Oh, God, you'll probably hate him for the rest of your lives... but despite that heartbreaking fact, you'll still be here.

"What?" You're completely and utterly rendered baffled in disbelief. Tell me you don't mean it.

"You heard me."

You flinch at his words, placing a hand over your heart. You had honestly thought he'd forgotten entirely about that wretched debt you owed him. Clearly not. You feel small enough to be that middle schooler sitting in the very same position years ago. You remember the horrible nightmares that moment gave you for months. You have a sinking feeling that they'll start up again for the same reason.

"So if I leave... you're going to hold up your end of the agreement...? You're going to go to the media?" You gasp, grasping at your purse beside you. You need to hear it one more time. You need to hear it come from his mouth and reach your ears.

"Of course. That's what happens when you don't hold up your end of the deal, isn't it?" Kyoya crosses his legs firmly, folding his hands atop his knees.

"Aren't... aren't we past that?" You shift away from him. You don't feel familiar in his presence; you don't feel comfortable. You don't feel... safe.

This isn't someone you know. This isn't the man that kissed you in that abandoned church in Karuizawa. This isn't the man whose arms you've spent countless nights in, simply enjoying his presence. This isn't the man that swept you off your feet and had you falling head over heels for years.

This is... the little boy who initiated this debt in the first place.

You stand to your feet, jaw grown slack and agape, glaring down at Kyoya on the sofa.

"You're really threatening me? After all we've been through?!" You sputter.

Kyoya's eyes narrow, challenging you with a growing fury in his irises.

You're really leaving me? After all we've been through?

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

“And, y/n, I hope you intend to place that order for that tea our guests have requested?”

“Of course. I always do as you command, don’t I, Mr. Ootori?”

...

“Well, my appreciation is immeasurable, good sir.”

“Not to worry, my lady, the pleasure is all mine.”

...

“Ah, I see even a proper lady like yourself can’t resist the Hitachiin brothers.”

“No! Not at all… they’re just so…" “… sculpted.”

...

“Because Mommy was keeping a secret from Daddy.”

“Whatever. Why does everyone insist on referring to us like we’re husband and wife?”

...

“It is amusing to watch them question themselves, isn’t it?”

“Indeed, it is.”

...

“I wouldn’t have hit him that hard,”

“Well, I’m here to ensure you don’t hit him at all.”

...

“I think it’s about time I learn how to swim, huh? That might be a good idea…”

“A good idea indeed, y/n.”

...

“I just… I didn’t know who I could tell.”

“I’m here to listen.”

...

“When will the teasing ever end?”

“Probably never. You’ll never get rid of me.”

...

“You sound like a common servant.”

“… Is that any way to talk to the person with the knife?”

...

“Even so… I have just the slightest feeling that everything will work out just fine.”

“Oh? And what makes you say that?”

...

“Do whatever you’d like; I don’t mind.”

“Ew, no. This Kyoya is far too chipper. We’ll talk when my Kyoya is back.”

...

“I miss her.”

“I know you do.”

...

“Come on, Kyoya. Please?”

“… there will be some conditions.”

...

“Not too far to stay away, hm?”

“Unfortunately not.”

...

“You just kissed me.”

"I think I did."

...

“You go to all this trouble, acting like you’re a perfect twat when…” “When being a sweet guy is quite natural for you… it seems counterintuitive.”

“That’s a very intriguing notion in its own way…”

...

“Kyoya… would it be wrong to punch a child?”

“Let’s not have any threats of child abuse on our hands.”

...

“Kyoya? B-but- the picture, you made me get rid of it, how did you-”

“I’ll explain that later, but right now, we have much more pressing matters to deal with.”

...

“You’re so full of yourself, you know?"

"It’s healthy to be a little full of yourself-“

...

"Hm, maybe these aren't applied correctly."

"Get your hands out of my mouth!"

...

"Here, hold this."

"A-are you just going to leave me with this?"

...

"Better?"

"Much."

...

"You would?"

"Of course, it would be my pleasure."

...

"Just trust me."

"Alright, I trust you."

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

If you were to wipe a stray tear now, you fear you'll look weak. You can't risk that now.

"S-so, let me get this straight. I either have to stay and ruin my father's career in London or leave and ruin my father's career as a whole. How the hell does that work, Kyoya?! It's a catch-22 situation; I suffer either way! Why do you want me to suffer?" You point to yourself with a certain desperation, leaving Kyoya's chest aching incredibly painfully.

Kyoya isn't sure he can handle the conflict within himself. He wants to pull you in with an insatiable hunger, kiss your trembling lips, and tell you that everything's going to be alright. That the both of you will find a way.

But... his passion is turning to fury so fast that he can't tell it was any other emotion before. He's angry with you for leaving, but he knows full well that it's ultimately no fault of yours... which makes him all the more enraged at your father for doing this to you.

But most of all, he's angry with himself. Angry with himself for never telling you everything he wanted to. Angry with himself for making you cry like you are now. He never wants to be the cause of this expression across your features. Disbelief, hurt, and hatred.

Nonetheless, you know the expression, 'blinded by anger.'

Kyoya stands to tower over you, fingers curled into his palms as fists, "Why do you care what happens to him, anyway? He's a bastard to you."

You gasp indignantly, "Kyoya, he is my father! He's family! I know he's trying, I-I know he loves me... he just has a difficult time showing it." You're not only trying your hardest to convince Kyoya at this point but yourself as well.

Kyoya can sympathize. Strong emotions are challenging to express or show, especially when they overwhelm each sense to the point that you feel as though you're simply going to burst.

You cross your arms, your following statement going straight for the jugular, "Not like it's anything you'd understand."

It hits the target's bullseye, and Kyoya knows precisely what you mean. You've been so patient with him, and that word that makes everything just so different. It's too much different. It's not like you've said it yourself yet... but it's so painfully obvious how you would fall to your knees at his command.

And it hits his limit. He squints his eyes shut tightly with the sudden urge to hurl himself over the edge of a bottomless pit and fall until the end of time. At least, that's how he feels.

"You have until the end of the fair to decide your fate."

Your features soften from absolute indignation to pure astonishment. Your throat constricts so tightly that you fear you might suffocate right here in his room. And part of you wants to... pass out and have absolutely no recollection of any of the events that have transpired today.

"I... I thought we were past this. I thought you'd forgotten!" You can't help that your words come out as a desperate cry.

Clearly, you were wrong.

"I thought you'd changed." Barely a whisper. And what's worse, you'd even begun to believe that it was your doing that changed him.

And you did. You changed him so intensely. But when fight or flight kicks in, many flight tactics include regression: returning to a previous state.

And Kyoya's previous state is a cold, icy wall that protects his heart from the oncoming attacks that may or may not be approaching.

"... I think we need to rethink this relationship, Kyoya."

One lonely bullet pierces through feet of thick ice and hits the softest spot within Kyoya's being. He wants to yell, scream, cry out in anguish, but he can't bring himself to do anything more than stand motionless, speechless.

It can't be this easy... to sever such a strong bond formed by patience and trust... to merely break it with one weak moment of selfishness.

Your words even manage to soften his expression, making his chest heave as if there isn't enough oxygen in the room.

Hold me tight, don't let me go. Hold me safely in your arms so that I don't have to face reality.

"... maybe we should, then."

You feel your heart shatter so abruptly that you must physically step away from him, staggering backward as you stare in disbelief at his side profile.

Don't do this. Call me on my bluff, don't let me walk out that door and regret it for the rest of my life.

Walking through the door and around the corner wouldn't have been so hard if you hadn't spotted the lone tear sliding down his cheek.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Fuyumi nearly stumbles as you storm past her, an absolute river cascading from your eyes as you throw open the front door and disappear. She doesn't even have a chance to call out to you.

She blinks disorientedly, glancing between where you disappeared and the direction of her brother's room. Then, as quietly as she can, she tiptoes down the hall and to his door, left ajar after your quick exit. She senses no movement inside, but Kyoya is definitely still there. The lack of life inside makes her anxious.

"Kyoya...?" She pushes his door open slowly, cautiously, and finds him seated on his sofa, unmoving. He's facing the window behind him, his arm propped on the back of the sofa and his legs elevated up on the seat. The light from outside merely outlines his silhouette, but Fuyumi can sense the tension that lingers.

"What happened? Where did y/n go?" Fuyumi glances back where you disappeared and takes a few more steps into the room.

A few more strides closer, she notices stray tears spilling from the corners of his eyes, but his expression remains emotionless. She nearly gasps.

"We broke up."

"Oh." Fuyumi lowers her voice.

He moves a hand from the sofa to rub over his mouth and chin as if he were thinking about something, considering something. He blinks; more tears. Fuyumi sits beside him, peering over his shoulder as his back is to her.

"Do you want to talk about it?" She knows the answer. But, patiently, she awaits his response.

"No." It's soft, almost inaudible.

Fuyumi nods to herself, "Do you want a hug?"

Kyoya places his feet flat on the floor, turning to look back at her with a wrecked expression, "Yes."

Fuyumi wastes no time pulling him in for a tender embrace, first removing his glasses and placing them haphazardly elsewhere. One arm around his back and the other at the nape of his neck. Kyoya tightly shuts his eyes, his arms desperately clinging around her torso as he buries his tear-stained face into the junction between her shoulder and neck.

After a few silent moments, Kyoya inhales profoundly and exhales in quiet, trembling, breathy sobs. His body shakes, and his chest heaves. Tears spill over Fuyumi's neck and slide down her back, dampening her blouse, but she couldn't care in the slightest.

Fuyumi hushes him like she would a child, stroking through his hair comfortingly as he clings to her. He might be larger than her in a physical sense, but she'll always be there to hold him when he feels so incredibly small that he might disappear.

They stay like that until they lose track of time. Kyoya never speaks a word; remains silent. Fuyumi can feel every unspoken word in every tear.

She'll hold him as long as he wants.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Arriving home feels less dreadful than it usually does. You've let all of your tears stream during the drive home, your cheeks now slightly red and your nose tinted the same color. You shut your front door behind you, immediately greeted by your father.

"y/n, there you are. Set the table for dinner; I have a friend joining us tonight."

You nod indifferently, "Yes, sir." Then, you hang your purse to unpack later and stride straight for the kitchen.

"I said now- oh." Your father blinks confusedly as you breeze past him without complaint or refusal. He assumed he was going to have to fight you on this.

He watches quietly as you gather plates, setting them at one end of the extensive dining table, "Just one friend?" You inquire quietly, setting a place for them beside your father's plate.

"Yes..." He responds absently, observing skeptically as you move out seamlessly.

"Why are you so obedient all of a sudden?" He asks bluntly, narrowing his eyes to you.

"Aren't I supposed to be?" You seem to have forgone the will to argue with your father day in and day out. Instead, you formally arrange the silverware and elegantly folded napkins at each place setting.

"You are..." But you're not usually.

You finish fairly quickly, folding your hands in front of you and peering up at your father, "Do you need me for anything else?"

This is the most servant-like you've ever acted since he started treating you like one. He feels entirely uncomfortable asking his own daughter for anything all of a sudden.

"No, that's all. Just be on time for dinner."

You nod, "I'll be in my room then." Stepping past him, you aim to disappear around the corner when your father takes a sudden interest in your attitude.

"Did something happen with Ootori?" He can't think of any other explanation for your behavior. It was Ootori that made you the way that you are, caused you to be so often upbeat, and seems to have been the reason that you fought him every step of the way.

Your feet come together, and you remain still in the hallway, back turned to your father and unmoving as you allow his question to ring deafeningly loudly in your ears.

Barely moving a muscle, "I am no longer with Kyoya." Your tone is, somehow, stable when you inform him of the events that have just recently transpired.

Your father nods, quickly realizing that you're not facing him, "I see." He furrows his brow, confirming his suspicions. He should feel elated that you have separated, but why does it weigh on his heart and make his chest ache so?

"Will that be all?" You repeat, eyes darting to the left in hopes of catching a glimpse of him without turning your head.

"Yes, go on then."

"Yes, sir."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Pulling the sleeves of your simple black dress down to your wrists on your way to the dining room, you catch wind of two voices. One is unmistakably your father's... the other belongs to woman that you do not recognize.

You lift your head, mentally-prepared polite smile erased completely as you gawk at your father's aforementioned friend joining the two of you for dinner.

If you were to analyze her character thematically from looks alone, you would peg her as a strict primary school teacher that all of the students pretended to adore but truthfully loathed entirely. While conventionally attractive and relatively young-looking, she looks as though she can tame a hoard of rowdy teenagers with one stern glance.

Her sleek, starkly black locks of hair are tied neatly and tightly into a bun. The color of her hair matches her modestly flattering dress. It seems as though you have all dressed for attending a funeral- only you seem to think that the theme is appropriate.

By the way your father kisses her knuckles, your stomach lurches. He isn't known to flatter any lady with such a gesture.

Something is going on. Who is this woman?

As if reading your thoughts, "y/n, this is Ito, Sara. You may call her Ms. Ito."

"Or mother, if you prefer." Her voice is teasing, but you wouldn't dare laugh. Your father does, though.

Your breath hitches. At the thought of calling a woman by a term you hold so dear, your blood practically boils underneath your skin. You even begin to feel quite flushed.

Although it may be hard to believe, this is the first time that your father has brought home a lady friend with whom he seems to be... romantically involved. If he ever has been involved with anyone after your mother died at all, he's never brought them home before, at least not while you've been home.

"Hm." Sara's eyes rake over your stiff figure, arms crossed. When she approaches you, you cringe as she reaches out and tilts your chin up to meet her eyes with her long, gaunt fingers with short, clean fingernails. Her gaze bores into your very soul. Your jaw clenches visibly, the muscles working painfully hard as your feel entirely disgusted by her touch. Your posture straightens, and you fold your arms behind your back, gaze narrowing back just as maliciously.

"Aren't you a cute little thing? Well-groomed, too." She tilts her head, and you catch a glimpse of the eyeliner that compliments her dark irises. She blinks once, twice, and straightens. You notice the handbag looped over her arm as she adjusts it.

"You're a second year in high school?" She muses, looking for an answer.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Which school are you going to attend in London?"

It takes you longer than you would like to answer, letting go of a breath stuck in your throat at the painful reminder.

"I'm not sure yet, Ms. Ito."

Sara is quick to notice that you have chosen not to refer to her as your mother. She nearly grins. You clearly have some sort of unresolved attachment to your late parent.

"And you attended Ouran Academy?"

Your father seems to have mentioned quite a few things to her about you. Odd...

"Yes." You nod curtly. You feel as though you're being interviewed for a prestigious employment position.

"And you are involved with an Ootori family member? You know, that's quite a feat. I hear they're difficult."

A huff of air through your nose, a gentle shake of your head, "We have recently split. I'm no longer involved with Kyoya Ootori."

Sara pouts with an exaggerated, jut lip, "Oh, well, that's too bad. Must have been quite recent; your father and I were discussing you two just the other day!"

Now you realize her aim. Her eyes are set on you, dragon-shaped with an intent to aggravate and tease.

"Today, in fact. We split today." If you play her game, you'll let her know that you're not one to submit easily.

"Oh, wow, you must be feeling a little down. But, you know you don't have to sit through a meal with us. You're more than welcome to... take your leave." Sara cocks a brow with crossed arms.

Your eyes narrow into slits, and you move to cross your arms as well, "I'll be perfectly fine, but thank you for your concern."

Sara touches her chest and turns to your father, "My, Daisuke, you have quite a daughter."

A pulse in your chest; it's been quite some time since you've heard anyone call your father by his first name, especially in this type of context.

"Thank you, Sara. She's lovely, indeed."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Kyoya's eyes peel open slowly and disorientedly. He winces at the burn that comes shortly after, blinking rapidly with furrowed brows. He turns his head, noticing that he's lying on his side on his sofa. He glances out the window; darkness has fallen. He must've fallen asleep for quite some time. The sting behind his eyelids is painfully reminiscent of tears previously shed.

A quiet trill draws Kyoya's attention to something behind his legs. When he cranes his neck to peer over, Noel's head pops out of thin air, yawning and stretching her paws over his bent calf. He cracks a smile as she leaps over his leg now that he's awake and crawls to nuzzle against his chest.

"You took a nap, too, huh? When did you get here?" Kyoya muses to no one but Noel, smoothing a hand over her head and down her back as she purrs contently.

Noel isn't a particularly vocal creature, only purring loudly and letting out trills when she wants or needs something. She only truly makes noise in the morning when she has not been fed. So, in response, Noel leans up into Kyoya's hand as he strokes her. She falls to her side and shuts her eyes, legs splaying out and head tilting back with bliss as Kyoya scratches the specific spot on her chest that seems to be her favorite.

"You're being sweet right now, aren't you? No urge to bite or scratch me?" More often than not, when Noel lies on her back, if Kyoya strokes her stomach for too long, she'll wrap both paws around his wrist and kick at the palm of his hand, sinking her teeth into his skin. He never takes it to heart, gently prying her off and settling for petting her head instead.

Though Noel seems too tired to play right now, purring as Kyoya strokes along her stomach. When he stops, she wriggles and opens her eyes, silently imploring him to continue.

"Did you find me sleeping here? You know something's wrong, huh?" Kyoya chuckles, lips tugging in a sad sort of smile when Noel stretches tiredly. Shortly after you'd given him Noel, Kyoya did his fair share of research into the mind of female cats and also determined her breed- it seems as though she is a black Bombay kitten, Kyoya deducted from the criteria he was provided with. He also fell into the rabbit hole of research about how most pets know when something is wrong or when you are sick.

The notion of you erases the smile from his lips. He groans to himself, allowing his head to fall back onto the sofa with a thud. He slithers an arm around his face and lets out a trembling sigh, peeling his glasses from the bridge of his nose and tossing them haphazardly elsewhere.

Noel's purring rises in volume when she nudges his arm with her face, insisting that he make room for her. She happily takes the place of his arm, licking her paws and cleaning behind her ears.

"I think it's time for bed, my love. Come on." Kyoya hoists himself into a standing position, rubbing a hand over his eyes where his glasses should sit. He leaves them wherever they may be for now. He doesn't know the time; his body just knows that it would like to go to sleep now. Noel is quick to follow at his beckoning, nudging her body against his shin and nearly tripping him as he makes his way to his bathroom.

"You're gonna kill me one day, you know that?" Kyoya mumbles, reaching to open his medicine cabinet.

The first thing that catches his gaze is bright pink. The feminine products he stocked in the cabinet for you. And restocked.

And there's your spare toothbrush, sitting in the cup with his own, the bristles protected by a hygienic cover because you couldn't stand the thought of your toothbrush even grazing his own, despite the fact that his lips have done more than grazed yours on multiple occasions.

Instinctively, he opens a drawer near his hip: hair ties, a portable brush, and a travel-size vial of your signature scent.

Another drawer: cleanser, cotton pads, makeup wipes.

Gently, he shuts them both. Nothing inside is disturbed nor dwelt upon for too long. That is until he realizes he's failed to take down the polaroid of you taped to the bottom of his mirror. Without thinking, Kyoya plucks the picture off the mirror with ease, taking a closer, longing look at it.

It was taken after a particularly long night at one of his family's formal parties. Of course, just like any other event, you were on his arm the entire evening, charming the guests without giving it a second thought. Although this party seemed to carry on a bit too long for either of your liking, so you retired to Kyoya's room while the party was still in full swing.

In this particular photo, you're sitting on his sofa, one strap of your black, flattering dress hanging off your shoulder, and you're bent down to strip off a heel. You're looking at the camera with squinted eyes and a tired expression.

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

"No, no! Stop!" You pathetically whine, lunging for Kyoya as he lifts the drying polaroid out of your reach once again.

"Be careful; it's still developing." Kyoya teasingly warns, easily shoving you away. Gently, of course.

"Well, I don't want it to develop. Give it here!" You tiredly lunge once more, trying and failing miserably to gain possession of the photo.

You groan, "I'm too tired to fight you." Finally, you allow your body to lay on his sofa, fully outstretched, with a sigh.

"Good. It's going on my mirror." Kyoya tucks the photo in a secure spot. You wave him off lazily.

"Yeah, yeah." Your eyes slip shut, almost moaning at the relief you feel to rest your body on the cushion below you.

A shadow casts over your eyes. You peel one open tiredly, finding Kyoya hovering above you, arms caging you in with a cheeky grin spread across his lips. You crack one of your own.

"What're you doing?" You snort less than gracefully, nose scrunching at his proximity.

"Lying down on my couch." Kyoya lets his weight drop and buries his face beside you, his hair brushing your cheek as you gasp dramatically.

"You're crushing me!" You weakly shove at his limp body. Kyoya hums contently, "This is very comfortable; I could definitely sleep right here on this couch."

"This sofa will gobble you up if you don't get off it." You turn your head and nibble on Kyoya's earlobe for emphasis.

"Ow! That was uncalled for." Kyoya lifts his upper body and cradles his poor, abused ear.

A brief moment of silence.

"I should have never given you that polaroid camera."

"That is your bad."

"Mm, my bad." Your fingers rake through his neatly combed locks with an aura of comfort, mussing them up, but Kyoya couldn't care in the slightest as he rests his head near your collarbone, just on your chest. As he adjusts his position, his glasses slightly dig into your skin, and just as he's about to take them off-

"Oh, let me get those." You take the arm of his glasses and slide them from his temples and the bridge of his nose. A shiver runs down his spine as he glances up at his glasses that you set on the table. He lets his head rest without restraint and sighs heavily.

This is a type of comfort that Kyoya never realized he could find in another human being. He closes his eyes and breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth.

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

That comfort has been cruelly torn away from him by the hand of his own selfish actions.

A heavy sigh, a pang in his chest, Kyoya lets the picture gently fall into an open drawer with your belongings and shuts it tightly.

A dreamless sleep is what Kyoya wishes he fell into when his head hit his pillow. Not a night filled with images of you flitting to and fro across his eyelids.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

~School fair day 2 -- main fair~

After a dreadful night's sleep for each member of the Host Club, the central salon is buzzing with activity as the Club is open for business to the general public for the second day in a row, despite how they might feel.

As composed and neatly put together as ever, Kyoya sets down a teacup before Lady Éclair with a smile, "Welcome, Miss."

"I know you. You're one of the Ootori family's sons, aren't you? Unfortunately, you're the third son, so you can never be the family's successor." Éclair peers at Kyoya's stiff appearance through her theater binoculars. An outrightly unpleasant thing to say, but Kyoya expects nothing less from an unpleasant woman.

Deflecting her comment, "What can I do for you today, mademoiselle?"

A brief moment of silence passes before Éclair lowers her binoculars and tilts her head, "You can tell me how much Haruhi Fujioka is still in debt with the Host Club."

Not even Kyoya can hide the fact that the irrelevant and strange inquiry catches him off guard.

"Haruhi." At the beckon of her name, Haruhi turns Kyoya's way.

"Someone to see you." And as Kyoya strides away to busy himself elsewhere, Haruhi finds herself wondering what exactly is running through his mind. It's clear as day, well, to Haruhi, that something seems to be amiss, other than the devastating news that the entire club had received just yesterday evening.

Despite fighting with yourself, you've managed to show up to the last day of the Ouran Fair and make yourself useful. You had seriously considered not making an appearance and leaving Japan without a second thought. But, you thought it would be unfair to the rest of the Hosts, seeing as your job keeps their time free to busy themselves with guests rather than your work.

Of course, you thought about how your interactions with Kyoya would go today. You simply plan to avoid him altogether. As petty as that may sound, you genuinely believe that it is the best solution at the moment.

You mindlessly push your cart slotted with two trays of sweets and beverages for any guest who happens to stumble upon you and ask for either.

"I wonder what happened to Tama-chan." Honey whines dejectedly as the Hosts have gathered into a small huddle.

"I'm getting worried; something's up with him after what he said yesterday." Hikaru declares, hand propped on his hip with a scowl.

You stop so abruptly that you nearly lurch over the handle of your cart.

"As of today, Lady Éclair Tonnerre and I are officially engaged. Furthermore, the Host Club will be permanently dissolved after the Ouran Fair."

It seems that the unpleasant memory has resurfaced for each host at Hikaru's words.

Two claps and an encouraging voice, "Alright, gentlemen, no more idle chatter. Our guests are waiting for us."

"Senpai, it's like you don't even care," Kaoru whines adamantly.

Little do they know, Kyoya has become quite adept in using distractions to conceal underlying emotions- no matter how strong they may be. Years of training are to thank for that.

"It's our job to take care of our guests to the best of our abilities." Kyoya adjusts his glasses with his pointer finger, "Remember, they're looking to all of us to entertain them. Their happiness is of the utmost importance."

The twins grumble, refusing to meet Kyoya's eyes. Then, honey takes action of his own, "He's right, Kao-chan!" He lunges into Kaoru's back and effectively pushes him away from the huddle.

"Honey-Senpai, what're you doing?!"

Mori wraps a crushing arm around Hikaru and drags him in the same direction, "C'mon, Hikaru." He orders in a gruff voice.

"Let go, Mori-Senpai!" Hikaru strangles.

As Kyoya turns, he merely catches your back as you lean forward and use your weight to kick-start the wheels of your cart, trodding off in a different direction.

Kyoya feels the weight of the burden he bears. The weight of knowing such information that he is certain would devastate his friends if they knew. But none would feel the pain that he feels. None would feel the sense of longing and regret that his body contains. It wouldn't be possible, he believes. Yet, Kyoya knows something they don't, and it makes him feel as though he's hurting them all.

He wonders if they can tell. He wonders if they can sense your despair as strongly as he can as it hangs in the air like something tangible. He wonders if they can see easily through his facade and are sparing his feelings.

~This... Is our Ouran Fair~

As you slide a fresh teacup and saucer onto a guest's table, the sound of prominent footfalls catches your attention and you glance toward the offending noise.

With his back turned, Kyoya's father and a colleague pass him by. Kyoya's eyes slide to the right to catch as much visibility of his father as he can. However, while the colleague bows to Kyoya, his father does not imitate the gesture. Rather, he stops just short of passing his son.

"When they're young, many assume they have all the time in the world but really that is never the case. Don't waste your time with something that will ultimately have no value."

Shoving your cart out of your way, you huff angrily and audibly. Close enough to the pair to merely step across the aisle to reach them; you call out before your mind can catch up with your running mouth.

Just because you split with Kyoya doesn't mean that you're heartless.

"You don't get to decide what has value to someone else."

Yoshio stops once more in a similar fashion to moments earlier. He does not face you, but you know that he is listening.

"You may be powerful, but you don't control human beings. Not even your own son." Your voice is filled with frustration built up over the past several hours as your body nearly trembles with rage. Nonetheless, you keep yourself in check.

"And if entertaining others gives him and others fulfillment, what does that matter? Have you even thought of that? How could you possibly decide for someone you know next to nothing about?"

Craning his neck without turning his body, Kyoya's wide-set eyes land on your tense, indignant posture.

"It doesn't matter what you say; I think your son has the potential to bend anyone to his will. But he doesn't want to. That's what sets you and him apart. That's what makes him better."

As Yoshio and his colleague begin their path once more, Yoshio mutters, "I'm surprised that such insolence ever won Kyoya over."

Your gaze is trained on Yoshio's retreating back; every muscle strained not to meet Kyoya's eyes that are staring straight into your side profile.

At your side, Haruhi lets a few beats of stunned silence pass before she gently reaches toward you, "y/n-Senpai-"

And for the first time in all the length you've known her, you turn sharply from Haruhi without sparing her a glance or a word, resuming your duties as you whisk away from her side.

Your silence cements the notion in Haruhi's mind- something has transpired that she has no knowledge of. But clearly, something dreadful.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Sliding on a coat, you ensure that your cart is safely out of the way of guests passing by and that the refreshments are handed out entirely. You straighten the sleeves and sigh, dusting yourself off as you spin on your heel and stride over to the first host that you find.

Rather, the first host that finds you. Mori's towering figure stops you effectively in your tracks. Your head tilts back to meet his concerned gaze. He says nothing but has obviously taken note of your changed attire.

With a deep intake of air, "There are some things that I want to tell you, but I don't have the heart. I hope you'll forgive me." His intimidating gaze nearly pricks tears in your waterline.

Soundlessly, you know that Mori understands your intentions on a certain deep level. He hums, nods, and turns to reveal Honey standing directly behind him.

"y/n-chan? Are you okay?" His eyes are wide-set and glistening with furrowed brows, gripping Usa-chan with confusion washing over his parted lips.

You bend at the hips and place two hands over his shoulders, "Will you save me a seat next to you and Usa-chan for the parade?"

You don't exactly know why you've asked that of him. But your heart pulses when he nods excitedly.

"Of course! Usa-chan would love to sit with you! But... where are you going?" Honey innocently wonders why you won't be able to reserve your seat yourself.

"I just have to check on something, alright?" Then, with a maternal hand, you stroke over his cheek and stand to your feet.

You can't bear to look at his questioning eyes any longer. You turn more abruptly than you intend and pull your coat tight to you.

At the door, you're stopped by none other than two identical gingers. You wince.

"Senpai, where are you going?" Kaoru inquires casually, Hikaru arriving shortly at his side.

"I just have to step out for a moment." Your throat strains with a searing pain.

Hikaru shrugs, "Alright, but be back soon. We have your outfit prepared for you, and it'll take a while to get you into it." He simpers mischievously.

You turn to look at them through glassy eyes. Finally, you manage a fond smile at their antics, "Okay."

You're sure that you would have loved whatever strenuous pieces of clothing they have personally prepared for you. You hope they won't hold it against you.

As they saunter off, you take one last longing glance at the grand central salon before sliding through the door and shutting it gently behind you.

You expect your father has prepared you a ride to the airport as you scurry down the steps, holding your coat close to you for comfort. But when you lift your head, you're met with a red convertible. And standing just outside with an open door is Tamaki, dressed in a white suit.

You merely stand gawking at him a moment before he gently smiles.

"Where have you been?" You demand immediately.

Tamaki chuckles, "Our fathers spoke. Your father asked if we would give you a ride to the airport."

"You're going to the airport?" You lean slightly to the side and spot Éclair sitting on the far side of the vehicle, binoculars pressed to her eyes as she remains focused on her line of sight straight ahead. She spares you no acknowledgment.

"I could ask the same of you." Tamaki teases. Though his tone of voice is playful, his expression conveys a solemn despair that you feel you mirror yourself.

Your shoulders droop with a certain aura of anguish, "You're leaving too, aren't you?"

"To France. I... hear you're moving to London?"

Your resolve finally crumbles, leaping off the steps and into Tamaki's awaiting arms. You grip the back of his blazer, face buried in his chest with a heaving cry.

"My darling, we're going to be alright." He whispers gently, stroking over the back of your head in a comforting motion.

He pries you away by your shoulders at a close length, "I believe it's a sign that you and I are taking this journey together." He assures with a firm gaze.

"But we won't be together." You sniffle, watering eyes meeting his violet irises.

"You and me? We'll always be together, don't you worry." He jests, gently tapping under your chin affectionately.

"Will you visit me? We'll be so close, Tamaki; we're just a two-hour train ride apart. I-I'll come see you every weekend, and we-"

He quickly brings your head back to his chest with his hand, resulting in your muffled silence and arms around his torso. You hiccup.

Tamaki whispers quietly into your hair, away from Éclair's prying ears, "Do you trust me?"

You nod into his suit with a pathetic "Mhm."

"Then this isn't the last time that you and I will meet. I promise."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

The King of the Host Club, which remains intact for only a few more hours, has failed to arrive for the Ouran Fair. A certain errand girl is missing as well.

Kyoya stands solemnly by the window, glasses creating a glare as he urgently presses his cell phone to his ear. He knows that no one on the other line is there to answer, but he persists.

"Kyoya-Senpai, what's with the outfit?" Haruhi grumbles from underneath layers upon layers of victorian-era women's clothing. Kyoya turns silently to her.

"We told you, it's a costume for the special parade." Hikaru scoffs as a reminder.

"You look so cute, Haru-chan!" Honey giggles excitedly.

"I don't understand. Why am I the only person dressed as a girl? Where's Senpai?"

"Aw, c'mon, it's cosplay, so it's okay for you to dress like a girl." Hikaru teases, leaning into Haruhi's space with a wagging finger and a grin.

"I am one, you know." She huffs. Hikaru chortles maliciously.

Kaoru's expression is less than amused, turning to Kyoya who's been trying Tamaki's cellphone for some time now.

"Well?"

"No luck. He's not there." Kyoya sighs, shutting his cell phone with a snap! and a frown. The rest of the Club tunes into the conversation.

"I can't believe... they didn't show." Haruhi hands her head dejectedly.

"I really thought Tamaki-Senpai was gonna make it despite what she said... but that doesn't explain why y/n-Senpai isn't here. Did she even leave?"

"She left to get something... she said she would be right back," Hikaru recalls, his tone filled with exasperation.

"I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t show." Kyoya's voice rings out unexpectedly, even to himself.

"Senpai?" Haruhi echoes with utter confusion written across her features.

"What do you mean, Kyo-chan?" Honey pries insistently, urging him almost desperately to continue.

Without meeting a single one of their gazes, Kyoya shoves his cell phone into his pocket.

"y/n and I ended our relationship yesterday."

"What?!"

"Are you kidding?!"

"Senpai, how the hell did that happen?!"

"Why would you go and do that?!"

At the last of the varied exclamations, Kyoya scoffs, "It wasn't any choice of mine. She threatened to violate the terms of her debt and when I told her that it was unacceptable, she broke it off."

Most of that is far from the truth and Kyoya knows it.

"Now I know that's not true. y/n-Senpai would never do something that shallow." Haruhi defiantly bores her gaze into Kyoya's.

In every sense, Haruhi is completely correct.

"Yeah, Senpai, what really happened?" Kaoru pries further, also not entirely convinced.

"Fine. You want to know what really happened?" Losing control of his tone steadily, "y/n informed me that she's moving to London by the end of the fair, and since that is in violation of our contract, I enforced her terms, and evidently she was unhappy with that result; therefore she ended our relationship."

Stunned gasps echo gently at his revelation.

"She said she was going to be right back! Are you kidding me?!" Hikaru's fists clench, eyes trained intently on the floor as he recalls his earlier conversation with you. You lied to them, straight to their faces.

"She said she was going away for a little bit..." Finally, realization sets in behind Honey's wide eyes.

"She told you?" Haruhi inquires urgently.

"She didn't tell me anything!" Honey cries. Mori steadies a hand on his shoulder.

Hikaru buries his face in his hands, "Not like this, y/n." He gently sighs. Kaoru slides an arm around his shoulder and steadies the other on his upper arm.

"So she's already gone? Why didn't she tell us, Kyoya-Senpai?" Haruhi glances to Kyoya for answers that he doesn't have.

“She could still be coming back. To tell us goodbye." Hikaru insists. He knows you would never leave them without a goodbye. Never in a million years.

In the beat of painful silence that passes, Kyoya wrenches his phone from his pocket and dials a number that he knows will get him an answer to the absence of his best friend. He worries that he might have taken the same path as you with each passing second. He turns to the window as the phone rings.

The telltale sound of the receiver being picked up causes him to be the first to speak, "Hello, Shima? Been a while, hasn't it? It's Kyoya."

"This is about Master Tamaki, isn't it? I'm sorry, Kyoya, but the Master will be departing for France soon."

Kyoya's eyes fly open, and he stumbles toward the window.

"I tried to talk him out of it, but he said the Suoh family had forgiven his beloved mother and that he was finally going to see her again. He also said that if he stayed at Ouran any longer, his capriciousness would only continue to make trouble for you and everyone else in the club. I believe he is also accompanied by your partner, Miss l/n. She mentioned that she wouldn't like to burden anyone else with her absence and decided to leave it at that."

You warned Kyoya about saying things like that to Tamaki. On some level, he knew then of his mistake.

"How could they be so stupid?!" Kyoya growls, gaining the attention of the hosts.

Pulling the phone from his ear, "Evidently, Tamaki is planning to return to France. y/n is joining him on his way."

Blow after blow to the hosts, they each cry out indignantly.

"They're both leaving us?!" Honey sharply inhales.

"We just can't let it end so suddenly!" Hikaru becomes enraged once more at the thought of everything falling apart.

"Hikaru." Kaoru consoles gently.

"Excuse me, sir." Shima quickly gains Kyoya's attention.

"Yes?"

"I was just thinking. If the Master's mother really is as remarkable a woman as he claims she is, then I can only imagine that she would be upset with the manner in which the Master has chosen to leave Ouran Academy. And... I can't imagine why you've chosen to let Miss l/n leave so easily like this."

"Do you know when they're leaving, Shima?" Kyoya presses imperatively, leaning even closer to the window.

"I'm afraid their flights are this evening."

"Why are they leaving so soon?" Kyoya gapes with a tone of desperation.

"Master Tamaki would have left sooner, but he said he had to wait until the Ouran Fair was ending."

Just as she speaks, a red convertible dashes by on the road below the very window that Kyoya stands at.

He gasps, "y/n!"

At his exclamation, the Hosts rush to the window and press themselves against it.

"Tama-chan!"

"y/n-Senpai!"

"No way!" Kaoru presses his hands on the window pane with a whimper.

"The Ouran Fair isn't even over yet!" Hikaru shouts.

Haruhi remains seated in her chair, hands poised elegantly in her lap as her eyes continue to bore into the table before her, seemingly shell-shocked.

"My family's car should be in the parking lot!"

"Haruhi, let's go!"

Only then does Haruhi raise her head.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

As the sun sets behind the clouds, the Host club sprints across the parking lot of the Academy, aiming for Kyoya's family car, where his driver sits, awaiting their arrival.

Kyoya bends to his window, "We're in a hurry. Can you drive us?"

"I'm sorry, sir, but..."

Both hands gripping the vehicle, Kyoya urges his driver to spit out whatever he's got to say, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Well, you see, the thing is..."

As he speaks, the members of Kyoya's private police force filter in through the cars surrounding them, silent as they approach cautiously.

Feeling irked to no end, "You want to tell me your orders? Let me guess; you've been hired to protect Lady Éclair."

Through a protective mask, "I'm truly sorry it has come to this, but as you know, as members of the Ootori private police, we answer to your father."

Hikaru and Kaoru face the officers with caution, barring themselves around Haruhi without thinking twice.

Brow twitching and face contorting into a grimace, Kyoya's bottled fury releases with a sudden burst of strength. He brings his fist down onto the hood of his family's car and leaves a significant dent and a loud, echoing bang!

"Damn it!"

"I'm terribly sorry, sir, but we've been ordered not to allow any of you to leave, even if we have to stop you by force."

Conveniently, the two martial arts masters are missing.

But it isn't long before the Host Club can hear the sound of hoofbeats and rolling wheels, a carriage bursting through the tight ring of officers, carrying none other than Honey and Mori at the reins.

Honey leaps from within the carriage, and the police force wastes no time in recognizing who exactly they're dealing with.

"Hikaru, take the carriage. If you use the back hills bypass, you can cut them off." Mori directs in one breath, joining Honey's side, much to the horror of The Ootori Private Police Force.

"It's Haninozuka!"

"And Morinozuka!"

Hikaru and Kaoru are the first to mount the carriage. Kaoru reaches for Haruhi, "C'mon!"

Although hesitant, Kyoya grabs her tightly by the shoulders and gently nudges her forward.

"Haruhi, go get those idiots. Hurry."

Just as she leaves his grasp, Haruhi uses her last few remaining moments and grabs Kyoya by the lining of his jacket, pulling him along with her.

"Senpai- if we don't succeed, you may never see y/n-Senpai again. You need to fix this yourself; you have to stop hiding from the pain even if your efforts are in vain."

Gripping her shoulders with renewed vigor, Kyoya's fingers tremble. Then, with one last urge, Haruhi yanks him forward by his coat and he stumbles onto the carriage as Hikaru flicks the reins.

"Hah!"

With a talented driver behind the reins, the horses pick up their speed and dash straight through another group of police officers. They barely leap out of their way in time.

"Don't just stand there! Stop that carriage!" The officer giving orders is knocked to the ground as Honey uses his helmet to leap across the pavement and block the path left by the retreating carriage.

Kyoya steadies himself in the wagon, gripping the edges as Hikaru continues to urge the horses to their top speed.

He decides in that moment that if you're going to leave, he's not letting go without a fight.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Sunlight filters through the rapidly passing trees as Kyoya, Haruhi, and the twins press on in their strangely chosen mode of transport.

The horses are approaching a dangerous speed, but Hikaru continues to urge them on.

"Hikaru! Don't you think we should slow down? Somebody could get hurt!" Kaoru exclaims as the carriage jostles them; both Kyoya and himself are prioritizing Haruhi's safety.

"We're not slowing down till we get y/n and the boss back!"

"But Hikaru-!"

"If it wasn't for y/n, then the two of us would still only be lost souls. We were able to become friends with Haruhi and the others because the Host Club brought us together. To think that all of it could end so suddenly like this..."

Hikaru grimaces, "... is something that I can't tolerate!!"

A crash is heard below them and suddenly the carriage is lifted into the air. The horses stumble mid-air, and both Kyoya and Kaoru leap to grip the sides of the carriage and hold the three of them steady, eyes squeezing shut.

With no one to steady him, Hikaru's body is hurled from the carriage and into a nearby pumpkin patch. He hits the ground with a pained yelp as the horses whinny in surprise and halt immediately at the sudden upheaval. The carriage hits the ground loudly and comes to a screeching halt.

"No, Hikaru! Hikaru! Hikaru!" Kaoru leaps from the carriage and rushes to his brother's aid, falling to his knees and heaving Hikaru's body into his lap with all the strength he can muster.

"Hikaru, are you okay? Is your arm hurting you?"

The sun continues to set behind the trees, and only the clock tower is visible over the horizon. Both Haruhi and Kyoya observe the twins as they come together.

"This can't be the end." Hikaru's voice comes out with a struggle, leaning into his brother.

"It's just not fair; the Host Club's the only thing that made us happy. Damn it..."

"Hikaru..."

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

"Where are you going?"

You turn at Kyoya's groggy voice, rubbing his eyes as he sits up and lets the blanket fall from his chest. He looks so adorably sleepy that you almost laugh.

"To the washroom. Is that alright?" You suppress a snicker with a teasing tone.

It's well into the early hours of the morning, and Kyoya is roused from his sleep by the sudden loss of warmth in his arms. You'd decided that you would spend the night with Kyoya after a particularly rough day.

"You can't just leave me so suddenly."

You snicker, "I'll always come back, you know." You peek at him from the doorframe now, slowly inching away.

"Well, next time, I'll just have to come chasing after you, won't I?"

"I would be worried if you didn't."

Kyoya cracks a smile at your own, listening to your laughter as you disappear into his bathroom.

☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁ ☁

Kyoya hasn't noticed that Haruhi's cosplay wig and overcoat have come off as she pulls him back into the carriage and out of his deep train of thought.

"Kyoya-Senpai..." He glances at her, "We have to go."

With a determined nod, Kyoya picks up the reins.

You were right- he never knew he'd need to know how to drive horses until this very moment. It's a damn good thing he picked up a thing or two in the past two days.

"Hah!" With a shout, the horses pick up their feet again and are speeding off with only two remaining passengers.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"What's the matter, Tamaki? You haven't said a word since we left. You're a host, aren't you? C'mon, entertain me." Éclair urges with a sultry plea, her binoculars boring into Tamaki's solemn expression.

"I have a question. Are you sure about this? Will you even be happy married to me, or are you just... following orders?"

The hoofbeats against the ground are no match for the pounding of Kyoya's heart in his ears. The sound is deafening as they rapidly approach the bypass that overlooks the bridge they anticipate you and Tamaki to be driving on.

"Look!" Haruhi points to a moving figure between the trees. Surely enough, a red convertible drives along below them.

Desperate to match your speed, Kyoya flicks the reins with another shout, "Yah!"

Your chin is propped up on your fist as you stare over the side of the bridge, watching the water glisten with the last dwindling glints of daylight.

The bypass is slowly narrowing, and both Haruhi and Kyoya know that it's coming to an end soon. Kyoya demands the horses continue, resulting in the pair of steeds leaping into the air to avoid falling. Kyoya feels his stomach drop as the horses leap off the ledge and onto the paved road, surely giving the wheels a scare.

The sound can be heard for near miles and certainly doesn't go unnoticed by you all in the vehicle. Upon hearing the loudest crack! you think you've ever heard; you turn your head in curiosity to glance at the road behind you to see what the trouble is.

You honestly believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you spot a horse-drawn carriage catching up to your vehicle. When you spot the two passengers inside, you nudge Tamaki urgently.

"Kyoya! Haruhi!" You call out, twisting your entire body to face them in complete and utter bewilderment.

With windswept hair and furrowed brows, Kyoya's eyes meet yours briefly, and the only thought that enters your mind is how much he resembles a knight in shining armor, arriving to save his damsel in distress. Kyoya shouts again; the horses match your convertible's speed.

"What are you doing?! This is dangerous! Stop that carriage now!" Tamaki shouts as the carriage arrives alongside the car with miraculous strength.

"Guys! Please come back to Ouran!"

"Slow down!" You scream over the rushing wind and beating of your heart, leaning over the back of the convertible for the pair to hear your pleas.

"All of us would be completely lost without you guys." Haruhi urges, ignoring your commands.

Tamaki frowns, shrinking in on himself, "But they... they all said they were put out by the Host Club."

"You really are an idiot! What's wrong with you?!" Haruhi all but growls in response, completely fed up with Tamaki's obliviousness to his surroundings.

"After all this time we've been together... you still can't tell when we're joking and when we're serious?! Everyone loves being in the Host Club... we really do! Even me, Senpai! I love being part of the Host Club too!"

Tamaki's eyes become vacant as Haruhi reaches to him with an outstretched hand and fond smile.

In the moment of desperation when you catch the carriage's nature of instability, you lean over the car door, "Kyoya, stop the carriage! This isn't safe!"

"I'm not stopping until you do!" Kyoya grips the reins tightly, his voice rising in urgency and volume over the noise of the carriage and galloping horses.

"You're being ridiculous!"

"That's rich, coming from you!" He barks back in response.

"I thought I had a debt to repay; what happened to that?" You shout, tears brimming your waterline as you bang your fist onto the door of the convertible.

"No, you don't! I don't know why I threatened you with that stupid debt in the first place! I... I didn't know how else to keep you here, but I know it was selfish and wrong. I see that now... I don't ask for your forgiveness because I don't deserve it, but I ask you to stay!"

The passion and desperation in Kyoya's voice feel utterly foreign to you. You stumble over your thoughts to gather them as well as your words.

"I... I thought you didn't care." Your voice barely reaches Kyoya's ears, but when it does, he cries out indignantly, more so with agony rather than irritation.

"Are you so dense that you don't know how much I feel for you?! I've never felt this way toward someone, and you- you just got up and left!"

The visible confusion on your face ignites an inevitable distress within Kyoya that his point is completely missing its mark.

"I-... I'm in love with you!"

Your head lifts to meet his gaze, eyes open wide in disbelief, and you stand to full height in the car without a second thought. The speed at which you straighten jostles you, and you nearly fall back into your seat. Kyoya flinches, arm briefly reaching out for you in concern as he grips the reins in his remaining hand.

Just the mere sound of Kyoya's voice declaring those words feels like you've reached home. And all at once, your heart drops as you realize you've made the worst mistake of your life.

You lean forward as Tamaki reaches out toward Haruhi. Just as he does, a hand grabs his arm and tries to pull him back down. Tamaki glances down at Éclair for a moment. Her blindingly blue irises plead with him jealously.

If Kyoya could pinpoint his mistake, it would be letting go of one of the reins. The horses knock shoulders violently, jostling the carriage enough for Haruhi to fall into Kyoya's arms.

They each know what is inevitably coming as they glance at each other, Haruhi squeezing Kyoya's coat in her fingers for dear life. Kyoya acts too quickly for his mind to catch up as he sweeps his arm under Haruhi's legs and hoists her into his arms bridal style.

"Tamaki!" He exclaims, managing to gain Tamaki's attention for merely a split second before he prays to whatever god is listening and hurls Haruhi's lightweight body with all of his gathered strength toward her savior.

"Haruhi!" Tamaki screams, lurching over the side of the convertible and catching her easily, pulling her into the safety of the vehicle and cradling her head against his shoulder with a firm grasp.

The carriage scrapes along the parapet of the bridge with a deafening screech, and Kyoya is flung toward the edge, barely able to stand on his own feet.

"Oh my God, Kyoya!!" You shriek, watching as his balance is lost.

Eyes swimming with panic and terror, Kyoya's gaze meets yours as he's thrown from the carriage and over the side of the bridge, reaching for something, anything that might save him from his fate.

Risks be damned, you don't spare the couple behind you a glance before you hoist yourself onto the side of the vehicle, managing to steady yourself before lunging over to the now mostly steady, still moving carriage. Your foot barely meets the wagon's floor before you're lifting off again, using all of your strength to push yourself off and over the bridge.

And Kyoya watches you helplessly, reaching out for you subconsciously. Then, miraculously, Kyoya's arm stretches, and your hands meet. His reaction is immediate, gripping your hand tightly and pulling you firmly toward him.

"Are you crazy?!" He yells, eyes still carrying a significant amount of panic.

"About you? Yeah."

Two souls colliding together, two hearts beating as one.

The clock tower chimes in the distance, but the two of you are lost to the world. The chime should result in the carriage turning back into a pumpkin at the last stroke. But with a combined effort, the fairy godmother has decided otherwise. In the last glimmer of hope, you made the spell permanent, retrieved the glass slipper, and restored everything to its rightful place.

You secure your arms around Kyoya's neck, his hand pushing your forehead to bury in his chest for safety. The both of you close your eyes, bracing for impact and holding each other as tightly as possible.

Will you save me when I fall into the deep water below?

You know I will.

With a splash, your bodies are submerged into the cold water under the bridge. But neither of you have anything to fear. Not anymore.

The feeling is familiar- you resting in Kyoya's arms bridal style as he wades through the shallow waters and toward the shore.

"We have to stop meeting like this." You jest, glancing up at him with a smile.

Kyoya rolls his eyes, "Moron." He groans.

"Excuse me?" You gasp as Kyoya sets you down on your feet in less than ankle-deep water. You put a hand on your heart, feigning a hurt expression.

Kyoya reaches for you and you jerk away from him.

"You, sir, cannot touch me like that. I'm single, you know."

You cross your arms and turn away from him as a child would. Kyoya purses his lips, sighing in exasperation.

"Did you miss the whole 'I'm in love with you' part earlier?" He cocks a brow at your behavior, nearly cracking a smile himself.

Silence, save for the sound of water lapping at the shore.

"... you better take me off the market again before someone else does."

Kyoya decides he's had enough of you, lunging for you quickly, "Come here, you."

You squeal as he takes you in his arms and spins you around to face him, twirling you elegantly before dipping you with grace and sealing his lips against your own in a passionate kiss. Your hand cups the back of his neck, unable to kiss him properly because of the stupid smile spread across your lips.

Kyoya hauls you to your feet again and laughs, "Dance with me, my love." He arranges the pair of you in an embrace appropriate for dancing, and you snicker at his antics.

"But there's no music." You remind.

"My heart sings when I'm with you. That's music enough." Kyoya insists, moving along to the beat of his own heart.

You laugh long and loud, throwing your head back, and he continues to move with you beautifully.

"You're being weird." You snort as Kyoya twirls you and pulls you back into his arms for a gentle embrace. You allow him to sway with you as you bask in the utter bliss, entirely unafraid of drowning if you're in Kyoya's arms.

The mood between the two of you makes a noticeable shift, and you stretch onto your tiptoes to cling around his neck, "Please don't let me leave."

"They'd have to pry you from my cold, dead hands."

You giggle, pulling back only just to meet his eyes, pressing your forehead to his.

"I'm in love with you, too, Kyoya." Your lips meet in another searing kiss, and this time it's Kyoya's whose lips are stretched into such a broad smile that he is unable to give you a proper kiss.

"Hey! Are you guys alright?"

You manage to pull away from Kyoya enough to crane your neck to the voice behind you. Tamaki and Haruhi are leaned over the bridge's parapet, seeing as the convertible has stopped to let them out.

"We're alright!" You assure with an enthusiastic wave, Kyoya mimicking you smally as Haruhi waves her arm.

"y/n-chan! Kyo-chan!" A screech of your names turns you the opposite way, finding Honey throwing himself from the inside of a car and clumsily stumbling toward the shore to greet you with enthusiasm.

"Senpai!" The twins follow him not too far behind. A quick glance back toward the bridge confirms that Tamaki has taken off to find a quick way to convene with the rest of his club. Haruhi must not be far behind.

Meanwhile, Honey lunges into your awaiting arms with a squealing giggle, and you swing him around once and set him back down.

Behind you, the red convertible waits for just a moment more before pulling away and peeling off down the road, continuing on as if nothing has changed.

"Boss!" Tamaki arrives as quickly as his legs can carry him, a worn-out, breathless Haruhi on his tail.

"Man, he's fast..." She bends over, hands placed on her knees as she heaves out short puffs of air.

"The both of you are morons..." Kyoya grumbles bitterly, drawing both your and Tamaki's gaze toward him with confused expressions.

"... leaving without saying goodbye? What were you thinking?" He scoffs. Tamaki's lips tug upward in a soft smile as Kyoya pulls you close to his body, seemingly unwilling to let you out of his arms for even a mere second after one of the most frightening experiences of his life- almost letting you walk away without even putting up a fight.

"I clearly missed playing dress-up. You all look so dashing in your victorian outfits." You tease, tugging at Kyoya's time period-accurate collar.

"Let's get you into your costume-"

"-before you run off and leave us again." The twins seem playfully bitter; arms crossed with teasing scowls upon their brows.

You let out a sound that can only be characterized as a laugh mixed together with a sob, leaping onto your tiptoes and tossing your arms around their necks, causing them to bend to your level with surprised grunts. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, a grin splitting your cheeks in two.

"I hate you guys." You sniffle, an unsteady giggle forcing its way through your throat.

Hikaru clears his throat, "Yeah, well... you're the worst, so." He rolls his eyes.

Kaoru scoffs, maneuvering the three of you apart so that he can sweep you into a tight embrace of his own, claiming you to himself for just a brief moment, "Can't just leave us like that, Senpai." He whines pitifully. You coo tenderly, pressing a hand to the back of Kaoru's neck, threading your fingers through his ginger locks as his face presses into your shoulder.

"Couldn't ever leave you, Kaoru." The ever-present reminder that you know him sets Kaoru's heart alight with a comforting warmth, a smile spreading across his lips as a content expression settles over his features. You know him separately; you see him for who he is, an individual.

"Hey, I'm still here," Hikaru grumbles as Kaoru pulls his face from your neck to face his brother, you turning along with him with a smug smile and a knowing glance.

"Admit that you were going to miss me, and I'll hug you, too." You cross your arms playfully, a self-satisfied simper playing your lips.

"You know, he was pretty distraught when we-"

"Shut up! I... I was gonna miss you." Hikaru mumbles.

He isn't quite ready for you to pounce on him the way you do, practically hanging from his neck as his arms uncross themselves, unsure of how to react. Then, his miffed expression is completely erased and replaced with one of unexpected surprise.

"I would have missed you and your stubborn ass, too."

Hikaru's cheeks flood with heat, tinting them a dusty pink shade as he groans, "Yeah, yeah." His arms cautiously encircle your body, apprehensively sparing Kyoya a glance as he does so.

While expecting your partner to be glowering at the show of affection you're giving them. Instead Hikaru finds a fond smile spread from cheek to cheek, eyes soft and unaccusing.

Hikaru lets his eyes slip shut with a feeling of relief, huffing out a breath of air over your back. When you pull yourself from him, his prominent frown has softened, and he looks at you as though you've returned something precious to him.

A hand presses down onto your head, twisting gently through your hair as you crane your neck to meet the perpetrator's eyes. Mori's irises fall on yours with a tender expression.

"I forgive you." He manages.

You snort with laughter as he lets his hand trail from the top of your head to your cheek fondly, allowing you to lean into his callous palm before he's gently pulling away.

"Are you okay? I can't believe you guys fell off the bridge like that..." Haruhi approaches you cautiously, carefully avoiding the edge of the water.

You smile, embracing her tightly, to which she returns just as enthusiastically, "I should be asking you the same thing." You chuckle, pulling back far enough to meet her eyes.

"Oh yeah, that was probably one of the scariest experiences of my life." Haruhi threads her fingers through her short locks, tittering awkwardly.

"But even so... thanks, Kyoya-Senpai..." She turns to meet Kyoya's eyes.

Kyoya places a steady hand on her shoulder, "Don't thank me... I should be thanking you." He settles Haruhi's confused expression when you settle in close to him, allowing him to wrap his arms around you tightly.

"You guys made up?" Honey inquires with hopeful, glittering eyes.

"After that show? How could I not forgive him?" You tease. Kyoya rolls his eyes, gently shoving you in a playful manner as you stumble with a malicious giggle.

"What? You guys fought?" Tamaki gawks, a panicked expression overtaking his features.

"And broke up," Kyoya adds with devious intent, actively fighting a smug smirk.

"WHAT-?"

"Senpai, it's okay... they made up," Haruhi assures, intervening at the perfect time to ensure that Tamaki doesn't break into an outburst.

A shiver runs down your spine, causing your body to convulse briefly as you start to comprehend the consequences of plunging into a body of water in November. As you're pressed into Kyoya's body, his reaction is immediate.

"Let's get you into your costume." He takes you by the shoulders and leads you toward the vehicle.

"Yeah, it's cold out here." Hikaru agrees, rubbing his hands over his arms as the club crowds toward the car they'd arrived in.

You glance up at Kyoya as you walk, "You know, I'm gonna tell everyone we ever meet about this."

He groans, "Oh, God, please don't." He pleads futilely.

"Kyoya hijacked a horse-drawn carriage and fell off said moving carriage over a bridge, all to get me to stay in Japan." You recall with a sense of dramatic theatricalism.

"You fell off the bridge too, you know," Kyoya grumbles bitterly, wrenching open the door to the car before you get the chance to.

"Yeah, trying to save you!" You remind with a wide grin.

"Get in the car." Kyoya pleads with a knowing look, gesturing to the car's interior.

"Sure you don't wanna take the carriage-?"

"Enough."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

You're more than ready to end your eventful evening with a waltz or two with your club... with your friends. You do your very best to slip and squeeze between swaying dance partners despite the rather generous skirt of your costume's gown. With the help of Haruhi, Hikaru, and Kaoru, your hair is dried to near perfection and styled according to the time period.

You pick up the light, baby pink skirt of your dress so as not to trip over it as you search for someone you know.

"y/n-chan!" Before you know it, someone takes you by the wrist and spins you around to face them. After realizing that the perpetrator is none other than Honey, he takes you by both of your hands and continues to spin the both of you in a series of tight circles.

Before you can get a word in, Honey's relinquished his grasp on you and sent you spinning without a partner. Although, it's not long before someone takes your outstretched arm and pulls you into a much calmer embrace, assuming the traditional waltz position. You're met with Mori in his navy blue tailcoat, severely concentrating on smoothly moving along with you.

Meanwhile, Yuzuru Suoh and Yoshio Ootori convene in Yuzuru's office with a convenient view of the clock tower.

"I'm sorry that we caused you concern. It looks as though Grand Tonnerre will not be purchasing my company after all." Yoshio's hands are folded in his lap as he occupies the sofa adjacent to Yuzuru's desk.

"An unexpected backer turned up. They bought the company before Tonnerre had a chance and the backer said that he was turning all the management rights over to me."

Your next dance partner is Kaoru, swaying along with you with a gentle smile across his lips.

"That was a bold move. Which funds manager was it?"

Kaoru twirls you under his arm expertly, drawing a giggle from you as you spiral right into his identical brother.

"A student investor called K.O."

"Oh, God, what happened to your arm?" You gasp, finding that Hikaru has shed his jacket and opted for a sling around his right arm hanging off his neck.

"Carriage accident, nothing too bad... you know it's kind of your fault." Hikaru smirks, trying his best to spin you around single-handedly.

"He cleverly left his name out of the deal, but it didn't me long to figure out who it was."

"Yeah, well- whoa!" Hikaru slings you along to your next partner. You seem to be progressing toward Kyoya, who is ready to welcome you with open arms when Tamaki slithers between the two of you.

With a sinister smile, Tamaki steals you away for a brief waltz, much to Kyoya's shock and dismay as he stands speechless.

You laugh at his reaction, placing your hands on Tamaki's shoulders and allowing him to dip you low to the ground, hoisting you back up with a goofy grin.

"You are something, you know?" You snicker, watching over Tamaki's shoulder as Kyoya's gaze bores into his back, rather impatiently awaiting your return.

"Have to tease him sometimes, you know?" Tamaki's eyes disappear as he grins, twirling you thrice under his arm.

"K.O. is Kyoya Ootori. The new backer was none other than my own son."

Tamaki turns you by your shoulder and thrusts you in Kyoya's direction.

"Well, aren't you a vision?" Kyoya's simper widens, sliding an arm to rest on your waist and the other to intertwine with your fingers.

"Yeah? Like it?" You beam confidently, absently reaching to touch the matching cherry blossom flowers in your hair. You allow your body to fall into a natural rhythm with his.

"Indeed." Kyoya nods, eyes remaining on your smiling features.

"You know, you say that a lot." Your brows furrow with the realization. Kyoya tilts his head.

"Say what?" He inquires.

"You say 'indeed' a lot. Why is that?" You tease, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress a giggle.

Kyoya shrugs, "Couldn't say." He fails to keep a smile off his face.

"Is that your thing now?" Kyoya twirls you, pulling you back to his body closely.

"If you want it to be." Kyoya nearly laughs at the way you're looking at him.

"At least we know we don't have to worry about the future. I thought I knew how brilliant Kyoya was, but it seems he's even smarter than I thought."

You hum in contentment, gasping in realization when your mind sifts through topics of conversation, "Oh, my God. What happened with Grand Tonnerre? Aren't they buying your father's company?" You glance up at him anxiously. But to your surprise, he doesn't mirror an ounce of your worry.

"I don't think we'll have anything to worry about."

"What? How could you not worry? I mean, I don't want to stress you out, but it's sort of a big deal." You scoff in a nonthreatening way; brows furrowed as you mindlessly let Kyoya lead you in a gentle sway.

"Maybe so, but I think your son is the one who's truly amazing."

"Don't get me wrong. I know it's a big deal." Weirdly enough, Kyoya cannot find it in himself to stop smiling.

"I am responsible for the entirety of Kyoya's education. I always knew he would surpass his older brothers someday."

"Then- why are you being so weird? Aren't you afraid of your father losing the company?" You shake your head in disbelief at his reaction.

"No, not really." Kyoya shrugs his shoulders, nibbling his bottom lip, containing his excitement for now.

"However, I must say I'm shocked. While I can imagine Kyoya taking over a company, I never dreamed he'd turn around and give it right back to its original owner."

"You-... You know something that I don't." Narrowing your eyes in an accusatory way, cracking Kyoya's resolve.

"I might."

"Are you going to keep being annoying, or are you going to tell me what the hell you know?"

"As Kyoya grew up, I was constantly dangling the Ootori family companies in front of his face, torturing him with something he could never have."

"Don't worry; I made sure that my father won't be losing the Ootori Group," Kyoya assures.

"Spit it out, Kyoya. You can't keep going like this-"

"I... bought it out from under him."

You blink, freezing on the spot. In turn, Kyoya's body halts along with you, both seemingly frozen in time in the traditional waltz position.

"You... bought your father's company?" Your eyes grow wide in awe, your fingers tightening around the fabric of Kyoya's jacket where it lays on his chest.

"Now, not only has he taken it out from under me by force, but he's basically told me he doesn't want it and has thrown it back in my face."

"That's unbelievable! Are you kidding?! I knew you were capable of something like that." You grab him by his collar, pulling him slightly down in your excitement. He chuckles.

"Well, I didn't keep it."

"Do you understand what that means?"

"What? Why the hell not? You could've... I don't know, taught your father and everyone else a lesson about underestimating you." You shake your head to yourself, eyes no longer focused on Kyoya's face with a creased brow.

Kyoya hums, sliding his hands over your forearms and up to your wrists, tenderly taking hold of each one with affectionate eyes.

"It means he's finally found it. He's found something that has an even greater value to him."

"Because I have much more important things to focus on... I wouldn't have time for all of that."

It's like a promise to spend your futures together. That owning a company at such a young age would hinder his attention on your relationship. Nearly letting you walk away has made Kyoya reconsider his priorities in a major sense. He's placed you at the top of the list.

Your eyes well up with appreciatory tears, lip trembling as you whimper. You spring upward and drape your arms around Kyoya's neck, your nose buried into the junction of his shoulder and neck. He reciprocates quickly, arms encircling your body as he helps you reach him by holding your weight against him.

"I love you." You whisper softly, eyes shut tightly and fingers just as tightly anchored to the fabric of Kyoya's jacket. It feels like a weight lifted off your shoulders just to say something so intimate to someone that you feel so strongly about.

Kyoya's grin could practically split his cheeks, "I love you, too." He blinks, feeling a terrible stinging behind his eyes that he is nearly unable to put a stop to.

Kyoya puts you at a distance enough to face each other, cupping your chin with his fingers and meeting you in the middle, and molding his lips to yours.

A terribly loud crack! echoes through the sky, and you part from Kyoya abruptly, a startled gasp forcing its way through your lips as you glance to the starry night sky and find that a firework show has begun.

"Oh wow... perfect timing, huh?" You exhale heavily, a hand over your chest, soothing your rapidly beating heart.

You gasp, covering your lips, "Oh, we're in public." While your lips are still tingling with a spark, you glance around at the guests and fair attendees who might be watching you.

"I'm aware." You squeal as Kyoya surges forward for another peck, flashing a smug smirk shortly afterward.

Your heart swells with warmth. You hum with a laugh, pressing a kiss to his cheek in appreciation.

Kyoya's pocket vibrates, his ringtone for an unknown caller blasting in the silence between you. You separate yourself enough so that Kyoya can slide his hand between the two of you and fish his cell phone from his blazer.

"I don't usually answer unknown numbers... but with everything going on with my father's company..." Kyoya sighs, glancing at you briefly.

"Oh, no, by all means. I'll find one of the twins to dance with in the meanwhile." You tease. Kyoya groans, "Keep them under control; I'll be only a second."

You pat him on the shoulder and spin on your heel to find either Hikaru or Kaoru, or the first host that manages to sweep you up; you don't particularly have a preference.

Kyoya presses the phone to his ear, "Kyoya Ootori." He answers, voice taking a quick turn from gentle in your ear to professional over the phone.

"I assume that my daughter is with you? Seeing as she's not at the airport with me by now." A grumble comes from the other line.

Kyoya blinks, a deadpan expression over his features as your father's gruff voice reaches his ears.

"She hasn't contacted me about anything, and I cannot reach her. I asked your father for your number, so here we are."

Kyoya nods, soon realizing that your father cannot see anything he does, "Yes, she's here at the fair."

A long sigh on the other end and a groan, "I somewhat expected this... in that case, I'll be leaving for London soon enough."

Another moment of silence, "I'm calling you... to say that I owe you an apology and a bout of gratitude."

That's probably the last thing Kyoya ever expected to come through the mouth of your father and through the phone to his ears.

"I'm not sure I understand what you mean." Kyoya's brows furrow with a baffled expression.

"I've just caught word of the nameless backer that returned your father's company to him. The initials couldn't have been any less inconspicuous, you know."

Is... that a speck of sarcasm in your father's tone that he hears? One surprise after another.

"And you gave it up."

Kyoya exhales, "Yes, sir, I did."

"If I'm not mistaken, that's thanks to my daughter, is it not?"

At the mention of you, Kyoya swivels his head to find you in the crowd. You're being tossed between Hikaru and Kaoru, respectively. He can hear your indistinguishable shouts of alarm as you're switched to and fro.

"You guys!!"

If Kyoya weren't on the phone with your father, he would laugh. Instead, he shakes his head to himself, a fond simper tugging at the corners of his lips, "Indeed." Kyoya affirms.

"I also caught wind... that you know of a certain unfortunate incident that transpired under my company some years ago."

Kyoya's heart drops to his stomach. Your debt. He's talking about the safety error found in the l/n Model 7 that he kept for years above your head.

"And I wanted to thank you. You managed to keep that secret for God knows how long... I still wonder how you found out, but nonetheless, you didn't..." Your father pauses with a heavy exhale, forfeiting his next choice of words.

"And I know that it was for the sake of my daughter and her continued financial security, but in turn, you also saved me from a world of trouble."

Kyoya inhales deeply, "I care for your daughter more than you know, sir, and I want to ensure that she is always safe in every sense. Whatever that may mean."

The statement has a self-evident underlying meaning, and it certainly does not fly unnoticed over your father's head.

"I'm going to continue to London. I believe that my daughter would appreciate the space for the time being. I trust that she would be more than happy to have the house to herself. But I need someone to check up on her every now and then. I think you're the man for the job."

It's becoming increasingly clear to Kyoya that your father is a man that does, indeed, care deeply for you and your well-being. Despite his doubt, he realizes that you were able to look past all of his outer behaviors and many, many flaws and see his inner workings.

Your father trusts Kyoya to keep you safe. And although he may fight it, Kyoya's heart flutters gently at the notion, "No danger will come to her as long as there is breath in my body; you can be sure of that."

Sitting alone in his grounded private jet, your father nods to himself. "Good, good. I hope you mean that. And I trust you'll relay the message to y/n."

"I will." Shortly after his reply, the line goes dead. Kyoya brings his cell phone away from his cheek and shuts it promptly, stuffing it into his blazer pocket with a newfound sense of pride.

It isn't long before Kyoya finds you after he begins his search, squeezed tightly in Tamaki's arms as he shields you away from two griping ginger-haired brothers.

"You can't just toss my daughter around like a rag-doll! Have some respect!" Tamaki hollers. You, on the other hand, look like you're about to asphyxiate with Tamaki's constricting arms around your body.

"Alright, that's enough." Kyoya intervenes firmly.

Tamaki is quick to relinquish his grasp on you, startled by Kyoya's appearance. You inhale with a gasp, clearing your throat with relief shortly after.

"I will dance with you later, Tamaki. Go find Haruhi." You pat Tamaki on the shoulder, ignoring the pink tint that spreads across the apples of his cheeks and the tip of his nose before turning to Kyoya eagerly.

"So? Who was it? You were talking to them for a while." You adjust his collar absently, peering up at him expectantly.

"We'll talk about it later. For now, I just want to dance with you." Kyoya pleads softly.

You sigh, "You already danced with me, darling." You tease.

"Then let's just sway here, alright?" Instead of assuming the traditional position for a waltz like your surrounding peers, Kyoya slides both hands to your waist and encourages you to sling both arms lazily over his shoulders. You do just as you're told.

"You're cute; I like you." You giggle once your mouth is within proximity to his ear, nudging his head with your own.

"Like me?" Kyoya raises a playful brow, not that you can see it, but you can practically hear it.

"Fine. Love you." It seems as though neither of you can get enough of hearing or saying the word.

"You're ridiculous." Kyoya scoffs.

"Mhm, but you love me." You sing with a playful tone.

"Indeed, I do."

If Kyoya could have written his own story in middle school, he knows it would have a different plot than it does now. But when he looks into your eyes in this moment, watching them sparkling at him with such adoration like the stars above, the reflection of the beautiful fireworks in your irises, he knows that he could rewrite his story time and time again, and it would always end in some shape or form with you by his side.

You know that you can count on your fearless confidant to pick you up when you fall and kneel with you when you're down. You know that in his arms, you are safe. Safe from the godforsaken world, safe from reality, safe from any hardship you might face.

Only those with excellent social standing and those from filthy rich families are lucky enough to spend their time here at the elite, private school Ouran Academy. The Ouran Host Club is where the school's handsomest boys entertain with too much time on their hands entertain young ladies who also have way too much time on their hands. Just think of it as Ouran Academy's elegant playground for the super rich and beautiful.

Remember, you're welcome to come and visit us in Music Room #3 whenever you'd like. The Ouran Host Club will be waiting for you.

And we wanna thank you, from the bottom of our hearts.

We hope you'll stay tuned, for our author has a lot more planned for our future.

We'll see you then!!

~FIN~

🎵I run and run a thousand miles, and I am barely breathing. Only the fuel of a passionate heart keeps this body strong and moving forward.

Could it be I found a place to rest? How far until I’m OK?

Trees of the town reveal the time has come once again to shift our shade and colors. 🎵

🎵The world always changes around us but weakness will always remain;

Through all the pain, believe in who we are right here and now! 🎵

🎵Raise one hand to the sky; raise them both lift them high!!

And you’ll cut through the darkness make it go!

The time to start is now! And I can show you how.

Start with me, and the world will be even bigger than ever before. 🎵

want to read more? here's my ouran masterlist 🌹

and here's my bts blog💜

want me to write something you want to see? request something💌

have any questions? talk to my characters!🙏🏻

Adieu~ 🌹🌹🌹

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