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bybobbysbeard · 1 day ago

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Fine Gold

Day 11 for @bucktommyfluffebruary: double date read on ao3 read other days here

Karen gestured expansively, her horribly bright cocktail sloshing dangerously. “So I said, the rotational energy is going to overcome the momentum and you’re not going to land where you’re expecting to. And he laughed at me. Like, what, I developed the thrusters so I don’t understand how a gyroscopic inertial works? It was my trajectory he was screwing up!” She smacks the table with her free hand. The little skewer of pineapple in her drink wobbles around the glass. “It was infuriating!”

Tommy laughs, tipping his head back to hit the padded booth.

“Tommy! Stop laughing at me! I need another mechanically-inclined mind at this table. Buck’s too ADHD to hold a scientific conversation when he’s drinking and I can literally see my wife’s eyes glazing over.” She flaps a hand at Hen, slouched against her and watching the dancefloor.

Hen waves her nearly empty beer glass in Karen’s face. “Hey now, I am plenty scientific. Just not about aerospace engineering.”

“Yeah, cut your wife some slack Karen, it’s not like she’s a doctor or anything.”

Hen gasps, mock offended. “Et tu, Brute? The betrayal. And after I invited you and Buck out to our favorite bar.” She grabs for the pineapple skewer, dodging Karen’s block and biting off a chunk spitefully. She takes a sip of her beer and makes a face.

He laughs again. “Bet that tasted great.”

“Oh shut-up Kinard. I thought spending more time with Buck was supposed to make you less of an asshole. Where’s your better-half gone anyways?”

Tommy leans forward, trying to see the bar. “I’m not sure, I thought he was getting another pitcher. I can’t see him from here.” He’s just about to get to his feet when Karen pipes up.

“Uh oh.”

“Uh oh? What’s ‘uh oh’?”

Hen follows Karen’s gaze and sighs, heartfelt. “Your boy’s dazzling the regulars again.”

“For the love of God… excuse me.” He clambers to his feet, draining the last of his beer, and turning towards the bar. Hen’s right. Evan’s holding court, animatedly describing something with one hand while he holds the requested pitcher of beer in the other. At least four people of various genders are pressed close around him, a snapshot of Sweetwaters’ eclectic clientele.

This is the third time this has happened tonight. Evan is a natural flirt, moreso when he’s not even trying. Add in the fact that he’s glowing with happiness, and a little bit drunk, and he’s basically irresistible. Like a 6’2” puppy. Tommy can’t really blame them for getting sucked into Evan’s orbit. Hell, it happens to him everyday. It doesn't hurt that his boyfriend looks phenomenal, lit by the glow of hundreds of string lights hanging above the bar. Of course, Evan always looks good, even half-asleep and covered in drool, or after a 48 and covered in soot, but there’s something special tonight.

His pastel-blue button-up shows off his tanned arms and his dark slacks fit his incredible legs, incredibly well. The white sneakers were a choice, but Tommy can admit they work with the look. Two pitchers of beer have left a light flush on his cheeks, and his curls have passed artfully tousled to nearly reach sex-hair levels of chaos. His lips are pink, pink, pink, spread around a wide grin and he’s making devastating eye contact with his audience. He makes some motion, probably reenacting a rescue, and throws his arm up above his head. Even from here, Tommy can see his cuffed sleeve straining at the seam.

One of the women actually swoons back half a step. Okay, this is getting ridiculous.

There’s a gold chain hanging loosely around Evan’s neck. It rests just below the hollow of his throat. The lights from the bar catch it and throw little caustics up against the smooth skin of his jaw. A heavily tattooed man at the bar, tall and lean with glossy waves of blond hair, leans forward. He rests a proprietary hand on Evan’s forearm and smiles charmingly. Evan looks startled, but still happy, glancing down at the hand on his arm.

Possessiveness churns in Tommy’s stomach.

Three hours ago Evan had sat, completely naked and still damp from the shower, on the foot of their bed. He had sighed and pouted, and complained they were going to be late, but Tommy had been adamant. He knew the bar they were going to, and he was self-aware enough to know how tonight was probably going to go for him.

He hadn’t been joking all those months ago when he told Evan he could get jealous too.

So, sue him. He wanted a visible claim on Evan. Not a hickey, though he was sure he was going to be leaving those on the delicate skin of Evan’s neck before the night was over. But something subtler. Something he could look at when he saw other men fawning over his boyfriend, trying to catch Evan’s attention, wanting him. Something to remind himself the only one Evan wanted was Tommy.

Evan had perked up when he opened the slim, blue velvet box, and had audibly gasped when he dangled the fine gold chain in front of him. He had ducked his head when Tommy stepped close, carefully draping it around his neck and fastening it, before spinning the clasp to the back. He had hummed, watching as Evan’s eyes drifted closed as his fingers danced over the chain. One hand had gone to Evan’s jaw, tipping his head up and to the side so Tommy could see the gold against his skin. He had traced the cool metal with his fingers, over and over again until it was warm from their shared body heat and Evan was squirming and straining against him. Then, he patted his boyfriend on the cheek, and told him to get dressed or they really would be late.

Evan had swore at him, and threw a pair of balled up socks at his head.

Tommy was paying for his earlier teasing now. He’s not sure how much is Evan getting his revenge, and how much is just his naturally adorable self. His boyfriend can sometimes come across as guileless about social cues, but he’s got a bratty streak a mile wide. Either way, Tommy is suffering. Hen had taken one look at his face the first time Evan had gotten ‘distracted’ by someone at the bar, and nearly laughed herself sick.

Tommy walks up as the tattooed guy sways even more into Evan’s space, letting go of his arm to get a phone out. Evan is nodding at something he’s saying, but his eyes trip over to Tommy when he gets close enough. There’s a light there, catching in his blue eyes; some sparkling mischief that lets Tommy know that this encounter, at least, is Evan playing with him. The stranger’s eyes also move over to him, and he leans back on his stool, clutching his phone and straightening up. He gives Tommy a slow once over. Brown eyes dart between the two of them.

Tommy lays a hand on the small of Evan’s back, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the rounded muscle of his shoulder. “Was wondering where you got to with the beer, baby.”

“Oh sorry, I was just talking tattoos with Jordan here.” Evan turns his head towards Tommy, close enough to kiss but not reaching out. His eyes drift down to his lips.

“Is that so?” He murmurs into the space between them. His eyes flick back up to ‘Jordan’ and he lets his expression go flat.

Jordan straightens even further. He looks kind of bizarre, perched on a bar stool with his back ramrod straight. When he speaks, his voice is loud, blusterous. “Yeah man, Buck’s got some nice ink.” And then, more confrontational, “What about you?”

Tommy turns to face him, lips curling up into a smirk. “No tattoos here. I’m more into piercings.”

He can hear Evan gulp beside him.

Jordan’s nostrils flare. Tommy smirks wider, letting his teeth show. Evan squeaks out some excuse, turning away from the bar and hugging the pitcher of beer to his chest. He flutters his free hand over Tommy’s back as he herds him back towards the table. Over his shoulder he throws a distracted, “Nice to meet you.”

Tommy chuckles as Evan harries him, Hen and Karen looking up as they get close. Evan’s blushing, making his blue eyes stand out even more. He thumps the pitcher down, sitting down and scooching into the back of the semi-circle bench seat, looking up fervently at Tommy. He sits down too, laying a hand heavily on Evan’s thigh. Hen’s shaking her head as she pours herself another beer, and Karen slurps noisily at her straw.

“I expect this kind of behaviour from you, Buck, but Tommy, if you get us kicked out I will never forgive you.”

“No harm done, Evan was just making friends.” He slides his hand higher on Evan’s thigh just to see him freeze and choke on a breath, before trying to hide it behind his empty beer glass. Hen rolls her eyes and takes a long drink of her beer.

Karen giggles at them, fishing the last ice cube out of her glass and crunching it, with obvious satisfaction. The music changes, something poppy and upbeat, and a cheer goes up from the dancefloor. “Ooh!” She grabs Hen’s hand. “Let’s dance! You guys coming?” She looks at Buck for an answer.

“I–I’m okay right now.” He looks to Tommy, who shakes his head, lifting his palm off of Evan’s thigh and reaching for the pitcher. “We can watch your stuff though.”

She pins him with a knowing look and his blush darkens. Hen and Karen shuffle out of their side of the booth and step away, melting into the swarming crowd. Tommy pours them both fresh beers and takes a long sip. The song swells. The lights change too, dimming around the tables and strobing pink and purple over the dancefloor. Tommy slips a hand around Evan’s waist and pulls him close. He brushes a kiss over a smooth cheek and Evan melts against him.

“Were you trying to make me jealous, sweetheart?” He speaks right into Evan’s ear, staying close to be heard over the music.

Evan nods, breathlessly, and turns until his cheek brushes Tommy’s and he can feel hot breath on his ear. “Yeah, I m–mean, yes. Yes, I was.”

Tommy hums curiously. “How’d that work out for you?”

Evan groans. “God, you’re so hot. When you’re jealous, when you’re being a bitch, when you’re laughing at me.” He swallows, and a hand drifts to Tommy’s chest, fiddling with the buttons of his black shirt. “Can we get out of here?”

Tommy doesn’t answer, instead pressing a kiss to the side of Evan’s neck. The hand on his chest wanders higher, warm fingers reaching his collar and brushing across bare skin. He bites down on a tendon, lightly, and Evan makes a sweet little noise. Tommy worries at it with his teeth until Evan squirms, his other hand sliding up to Tommy's neck. He hauls his boyfriend closer by the arm around his waist, his other hand landing on the sticky table top. Shaky fingers drift over the bolt of his jaw and find an earlobe, tracing over the thick silver hoops he's wearing.

The hand on his chest turns purposeful. Evan unerringly finds his nipple through the two shirts he’s got on, searching for one of the little barbells he recently started wearing again. It’s not surprising behavior; Evan’s obsessed with his piercings. He tugs on the metal bar, twists it carefully. Heat pools in Tommy’s belly.

He licks the abused skin under his mouth, pressing another light kiss to the blooming bruise before backing off. Evan’s hands on his body keep him close, but it's far enough. His boyfriend looks debauched. His eyes are blown black, a thin ring of blue around big, fat pupils. His mouth is red and open, an indent in his lower lip from where he was biting to keep quiet.

Tommy grabs his glass and takes a deep drink. He sets it down with a sound that he can’t hear over the pounding music and Evan’s heavy breaths. His hand is damp with condensation. He loops a finger through the fine gold chain around Evan’s neck and gives it a gentle tug. He bites his lip again, half muffling the little moan that tries to escape. Blue eyes are fixed on Tommy.

“Let me finish my beer, and then we’ll say goodbye.”

#bucktommyfluffebruary #bucktommy #tevan #my fic #911 abc

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leashybebes · 2 days ago

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fic: blue and gold (16/28)

for today's @bucktommyfluffebruary fic i swapped in alternate prompt showering together because they for sure know they're dating by now.

my fill is here and the tumblr version is below for those who prefer to read here. ps, pretty sure this chapter takes the rating to M.

"I am never doing that again," Buck says firmly.

"No?"

"You and Eddie definitely had an unfair advantage."

Tommy's clearly fighting a smirk. "How's that?"

Buck splutters. "Combat training!"

"Ohhh. I thought you were referring to basic hand-eye coordination," Tommy says. "Which, apparently you and Sal were born without."

Buck pouts. "Asshole. Plus, I have paint in places I don't even wanna know about. Somehow."

"Well, someone felt the need to restyle his jumpsuit," Tommy points out.

"Sue me for wanting to look pretty for you," Buck says.

"Are they always like this?" Sal demands from the backseat.

"Literally always," Eddie says heavily.

Buck wants to protest, defend their collective honor, but he'd honestly forgotten the two of them were even there.

"Get outta my truck," Tommy says.

Sal and Eddie do as they're told, stepping out into the parking lot where they left their cars. Buck flips them both the bird as he and Tommy drive away.

"Assholes," Tommy says fondly.

Buck murmurs his agreement and sets his hand on Tommy's thigh.

"Wanna take a shower together when we get back to your place?" Tommy offers. "Scrub off that paint?"

"Uh. Yes," Buck says firmly.

***

Paintballing is apparently not his thing, but if it leads here, maybe he could be persuaded, he thinks later as Tommy pulls him closer under the spray of hot water, kissing him eagerly. He runs his hands up the planes of Tommy's back, the slide made smooth by the water and the slick of soap suds. Buck's shower is generously sized but they're both big guys and it's a little cramped before too long. Buck's not complaining though, not by a long shot, not when he can feel Tommy hardening against his hip.

They've long since given up on vaguely romantic notions of gently washing each other's bodies in favor of getting as close as physically possible. Along with the paintball-induced bruising, Buck knows he's going to have stubble burn on the sensitive skin of his throat, a dark smudge in the shape of Tommy's mouth on his shoulder, and if he can swing it later, fingertip marks blooming on his hips. He can't wait.

"God, please," he groans, letting Tommy press him into the tiles. The shock of the cold makes him shudder, but it only heightens the delicious sensation of the heat of Tommy's body against him.

"Yeah?" Tommy kisses him again, his voice low in that way that's always left Buck weak. "What do you want, baby?"

"Anything," Buck says honestly. "Everything. Jesus, just don't stop touching me."

"I promise," Tommy tells him earnestly, and Buck feels briefly like he might cry.

It's nothing, really. A day with their friends that ends like this. It could be any day. But that's the thing. It could be any day, because this is their everyday, now.

"I love you," he gasps out. "Tommy, I love you so much."

They're making it. They're going to make it.

Buck is more sure every single day.

#bucktommy #my writing #bucktommyfluffebruary

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ourdawnishotterthanourday · 2 days ago

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Rose Tinted — Boo Seungkwan

✧ Take off those rose colored glasses ✧

Plot: Picture this… you find out that your so-called best friend has been playing you all along.

🎥 Starring: fem!reader x best friend!Boo Seungkwan 🎥 Genre: big time angst 🎥 Word count: 0.9k+ 🎥 Warnings: swearing, asshole vernon, asshole kwannie (sorry y’all), brief mention of blood but not graphic 🎥 Notes: I am baaaack (hopefully for a while). I know I haven’t been posting for forever but I hope to see you all more often again ^^ 🎥 Shout out: thanks to my lovely bestie @nothoughtsjustfic for motivating me to write again 💜 love you Chee! Never change pls hehehe

♡ REBLOGGING AND/OR FEEDBACK WOULD BE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED — DON'T BE A STRANGER PLS ♡

Set The Scene Masterlist — Masterlist

“How much longer are you going to keep this up, dude? She’s been glued to your side since that dumb bet. Weren’t you gonna ditch her like forever ago?”

Time froze as you heard Vernon utter those words to your best friend… or so you thought.

“Shit, Vernon! Be quiet before she hears you!” Seungkwan hissed in return, which was followed by a dull sound and then a shriek from Vernon.

“Whatever. I just don’t get it. You don’t even like her. She could offer to buy me unlimited pizza and beers and I still wouldn’t be able to handle all that clinginess.”

“Fucking hell! Just get out and don’t come back until we leave. You’re going to fuck up everything,” Seungkwan snapped, his voice unlike anything you’d ever heard coming from his lips.

“Fine.” Vernon sighed dramatically. “But don’t come crying to me when it all comes to bite you in the ass.”

A second later, you heard the front door slam shut, the sound of which snapped you right back to the horrible reality you were now forced to face.

You’d just been shown a completely different side of your supposed best friend and you didn’t quite know whether to cry or scream. What you did know was that you couldn’t stay hidden behind the wall for forever, even though that did seem awfully tempting. You’d never been very confrontational but this matter couldn’t be left unspoken, not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

You needed to hear the truth from Seungkwan himself.

With your heart nearly pounding out your chest and a million thoughts running through your mind, you forced your legs to move in the direction of the living room where Seungkwan was awaiting your return.

His head immediately shot up when he noticed you approaching him, a smile that felt just a little too forced making its way on his face. It was almost as if you could see a sliver of disgust flash behind his eyes.

Had that always been there or were you just overanalyzing everything because of what Vernon said?

“There you are! Any longer and I would have gotten worried.” Seungkwan chuckled as he turned his head back towards the TV.

Right. The movie the two of you had been watching before that awful conversation. If only you could turn back time.

“Y/N?” Seungkwan asked with a raised brow when you hadn’t moved at all. “Aren’t you going to sit down? We can finish the last thirty minutes before we have to leave.”

“No.”

Your voice was barely audible but you knew that it had been loud enough judging by the way Seungkwan responded.

“No? You don’t want to watch any more? Well, we can put on something else if that’s what you wan-”

You were quick to interrupt him. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Okay?” He got up from the couch, his brows furrowed in confusion. “You’re acting kinda strange, Y/N. What’s going on?”

Without realizing it, you’d been clenching your fists so hard this entire time that your nails had pierced through parts of your skin, drawing a little bit of blood which you could feel dripping down your fingers. But you honestly couldn’t give a fuck right now.

“Do you hate me?” you blurted out, completely catching the man in front of you off guard.

“W-what? Hate you? Why would you ask me that?” Seungkwan chuckled nervously, his hand awkwardly coming up to scratch behind his neck.

“Be honest with me, Seungkwan.” You looked him dead in the eyes, noticing the way his eyes grew wide at the fierceness behind your words.

As if suddenly coming back to himself, he shook his head furiously. “You’re being crazy, Y/N.”

You let out a loud snort. “Me? Crazy? Then are you saying Vernon was lying just now?”

At that revelation, Seungkwan’s mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was about to say something but backed out at the last second. There was no talking himself out of this. And you were not backing down until you’d heard everything, even if it was going to crush you.

“Yeah… I heard everything. About a supposed bet, about you pretending this entire time and wanting to ditch me. Does that ring a bell?”

“Y/N, l-listen,” the man pleaded as he took a step forward to reach for your arm.

“Tell me the fucking truth, Seungkwan!” you nearly screamed, surprising both yourself and him at the anger laced in your voice.

You could see the hesitation in his eyes at first, but it wasn’t long before that disgust you swore you’d seen before flashed behind his eyes once again.

“You really wanna know what I think of you? Fine!” He threw up his hands. “I don’t like you, I never have, not then and not now. I’m not your fucking best friend and I’m sick of pretending. You’re right. It started out as a stupid bet to see if I could befriend you, but with how fucking desperate you were, that wasn’t hard. And then you just wouldn’t fucking go away so I thought, I might as well use your clingy ass to my advantage. Because who in their right mind doesn’t like free meals and free rides? All I had to do was pretend.” He chuckled bitterly. “Happy now?”

You didn’t stick around to respond, already halfway through the door with tears streaming down your face by the time he finished his cruel rant. This wasn’t the sweet and caring Seungkwan you’d been sharing all your secrets and insecurities with. This was the real Seungkwan, a mean, heartless excuse of a human being who you didn’t recognize at all.

He’d broken your heart in a million little pieces and you didn’t know if you were ever going to recover from this.

So much for letting someone in.

So much for not wanting to be alone.

Boo Seungkwan, I hope it was worth it.

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#STS with CheeJi #svthub #thediamondlifenetwork #seventeen angst #svt angst #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #seungkwan x reader #boo seungkwan x reader #k-vanity #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fics #seventeen imagines #svt au #seventeen #seungkwan imagines #boo seungkwan #svt seungkwan #fic: rose tinted

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caffinated-squid · 3 days ago

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i really liked your eltingville club character analysis’s!!! in the bill one you mentioned how bill was showing vulnerability in the intervention, do you think he was also showing vulnerability at the beginning of this fan this monster? considering how his friends weren’t around for him to belittle or reinforce his power to, i’d love to see an analysis from you for bills behavior in this fan this monster and how joe influenced bill. ty and keep up the good work!! <3

Thank you, happy that you enjoyed them! Regarding Bill in This Fan This Monster, I think it could be argued that it shows up a little bit in the beginning considering that Joe is probably the closest thing that Bill has had to a consistent father figure in his life. Focusing on this comic by itself, (the inclusion of the first comic makes it a bit more confusing) its mentioned in the hospital that his parents are divorced and while when it specifically happened is unclear, his presence is also absent in other Eltingville comics. (excluding the first)

Bill’s mom probably did not play much of a role in his life as well, considering how much resentment they both have for each other, which can be seen though Bill’s mom preferring to get people to tie him up in a chair for hours to fix his comic obsession rather than just talking to him herself in The Intervention and accusing him of blaming her for the divorce in This Fan This Monster.

In summary, Bill is not on good terms with either of his parents and probably latched onto Joe because he appeared to care about similar interests. (though he just sees Bill more as a source of money rather than an actual person)

** From this, Joe probably influenced Bill's behavior the most since a lot of Joe's behavior seen in This Fan This Monster (saying customers have to be treated like idiots, that women don't actually like comics) reflected in Bill once Joe needs to leave for an emergency and in the Epilogue. (especially in his rant to Mandi)

** Though I don't think that Joe was someone that Bill would ever open up to regarding his personal life and issues, its idolization rather than an actual familial relationship at most

I would say that the beginning of the comic has a mixture of two things, Bill trying to appease and learn from Joe while looking up to him as somewhat of a father figure, but also constantly testing to see how much he can get away with, he is still just as willing to break rules if it means he has easier access to the things he wants. Though that appeasement definitely comes back in when he attempts to blame his friends for the destruction of the comic shop in order to still cling onto the power he just obtained.

On his friends not being around, I don’t think that Bill got better without them present. Although he is the leader of the Eltingville Club, Josh and Pete are there to constantly challenge his opinions which prevents his ego from going completely unchecked. With their absence, you can see Bill’s ego gradually become more inflated the more he is around Joe, getting worse when Joe temporarily puts him in charge. Joe ignores Bill a majority of the time aside from making fun of him for doing grunt work, which allows Bill to believe that he can get away with being an asshole because he now has a higher status, and with this higher status, he doesn’t need a friend group to control.

**I tend to see This Fan This Monster as Bills Icarus moment, in the sense that his ego rises over the comic only for it to come crashing down when he sets the comic shop on fire out of spite.

(Hopefully this answered your question/request! I have 2 other analysis essays I am going to write related to Eltingville, then I'll probably be done and focus on another topic of interest)

#the eltingville club #character analysis #bill dickey

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starlit-writer · 16 hours ago

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in sickness and in health, ch. 4 - alpha!simon riley x omega!reader

here is chapter four!!!! this chapter is shorter than normal, but i needed to get this done for you guys <3 i definitely am excited to continue this, and i hope you are too!!! as always, if you want to be added to the tag list to make sure you stay up-to-date, let me know in the replies! eat well, lovelies <3

if you want to understand more about my omegaverse au, you can look at my masterpost here, and it'll help explain all of the intricacies that may or may not be explained well enough in these short-form fics!

word count: 3,070 chapter three masterlist ao3 link

Your head was pounding as you stalked through the hallways of the base, away from the gym. You didn’t know your destination, your heavy, angry footsteps becoming a monotonous beat that kept you from falling over the edge. You were filled with so many confusing and conflicting emotions, which made it hard to think, let alone even begin to comprehend the miserable cocktail thrumming through your veins. Your omega side was so enamored with Simon’s behavior, whining to stay close and let him apologize, but your more logical side wouldn’t let you. What had he done to deserve your forgiveness?

The short answer? Nothing. Sure, he stayed by you when you were sick, but he was the reason for it to begin with. Past then, it’s been nothing but fights and weirdness, and you hadn’t seen any glimpse of change or improvement. You felt lost and confused - the two sides of your being constantly at war with one another.

You were so lost in your own internal conflict, you didn’t even notice the other person in the hallway until it was too late, and your face met the hard planes of their chest. The scent of wind-carried sea salt, fresh candied apples, and the dust of a demolition site invaded your senses, and your head whipped up in surprise to find Soap looking down at you. His signature smirk was playing on his lips, but his bright blue eyes shone with concern as his hands settled onto your hips to keep you in place before quickly slipping off.

“Woah there, bonnie. Where ye headed with all that steam blowin’ out yer ears?”

You stared up at him, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - an apt representation of how you felt at the moment. You tried to come up with something, anything to tell him, but no words would fall past your lips. The vitriol you felt towards Simon died in the back of your throat, your omega caught between wanting to defend your alpha and the reality of your situation. So you settled for placation.

“I’m fine, Soap. Not a big deal.”

It was a lie passed through gritted teeth, and Soap could tell, especially as you looked away to avoid his eyes. His gaze softened, and he brought a gentle finger to your cheek to force you to look at him.

“It’s Ghost, yeah?”

You blew out a frustrated puff of air, unwelcomed tears welling in your lash line. You were angry - angry with Simon, with yourself, with your designation, with society as a whole, anything you could possibly blame to even attempt to make sense of all of your emotions. But even anger couldn’t completely mask the bone-deep grief that had settled over you like a lead-lined blanket. All you wanted was to feel normal again. Unfortunately for you, it seemed likely for that to never be the case again. You were bonded to an alpha who, up until a week and a half ago, refused to even acknowledge you outside of mission-related conversations, and now he had become some sort of overprotective, overbearing asshole.

“I just… I don’t know what to do. I want to hate him. Gods, I want to hate him. But…”

“He’s your alpha.”

“Exactly.” You ran a hand down your face, trying to force the traitorous tears away. Soap sighed in resigned understanding, his hand settling on your shoulder. You couldn’t help but notice how his touch was angled strangely, his wrist turned out in an odd angle that just so happened to press the scent gland on his wrist right into your own scent gland right in the juncture between your neck and shoulder. You weren’t wearing your scent blockers, a medically necessary intervention to try and keep the bond sickness away. Why he wasn’t wearing his, you didn’t know, but it felt rude to point out or ask about. You tried to ignore it, to convince yourself that it was just coincidence, a mistake, but the way he pressed his skin further into yours made it hard to believe.

To confound the emotional turmoil even further, your omega was now not only at war with your logical, rational side, but also itself. Soap’s touch, his scent, felt good. Safe. More familiar to you than even your own alpha’s after the last few months. But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? Soap wasn’t your alpha. He was a part of your pack, sure, but he wasn’t your alpha. And right now? Right now all your omega wanted was your alpha, no matter how upset you were. But, you were far too prideful to actually admit that at the moment.

Instead, you gently shrugged off Soap’s touch. As his hand slid off your shoulder, an almost sad smile appeared on his lips. “He cares about you, you know?”

Your gaze snapped back to Soap’s, your lips parted in surprise. Your mind whirled, racing with conflicting thoughts, hopes, fears, and desires. Soap shook his head, that same sad smile accompanied by a small, sad laugh. “He does. He’s just shite at showin’ it. Just… give ‘im a chance, aye?”

And with that, Soap walks away, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his military-issued cargo pants, leaving you completely shocked and stunned.

—

It was nearing midnight, if the time blinking in a bright red on your alarm clock was any indication, but sleep still stubbornly refused to take you. You were sprawled out uncomfortably on your military-issued bed, the result of tossing and turning nonstop since you had laid down. After your conversation with Soap, if you could even call it that, you picked up a shift at medbay, but even your work, something you had missed deeply in the worst throes of the bond sickness, couldn’t quell the pain and anger. But even worse than the pain and anger was the confusion. Why did Soap act the way he did? It felt like there was more than what he was saying, but maybe you were reading too far into it. And right now, as shit as it felt to say it, it was the least of your problems.

It had only been a few hours since Simon had interrupted your sparring session, and the bond was stronger than it had been, even with your anger and resentment and the distance that you had created between the two of you. You still couldn’t feel his emotions very well, even when you tried to focus on it, but you just chalked that up to the fact that your own emotions were blocking him out, as strong and volatile as they were at the moment. It didn’t matter to your omega though. Your base instincts were prowling inside of you, your skin prickling with the need to be near your alpha.

And that’s how Simon’s crumpled up sweatshirt that you had thrown into the corner ended up on your bed, tucked between your pillows as you laid in the dark room. Soap’s words echoed in your ears, his Scottish brogue repeating to just give Simon a chance. You were so tired. Tired of everything. The type of bone deep exhaustion that you knew a simple night’s sleep wouldn’t fix. And that type of fatigue only brings weakness, and weakness brings irrationality. Plus, Simon’s sweatshirt was losing its scent, leaving your omega side even more on edge. Even though you hadn’t touched it until tonight, it had been sitting in the corner for a week, and it barely held the residual scent of the harsher scents of Simon’s pheromones. You knew that already, as you had unabashedly buried your face into it a few minutes ago to try and subdue your omega side enough to find sleep. But instead of finding the smoked pine, wet gunpowder, and a freshly-lit cigarette smell you knew should be there, you found it all smelling stale and rotted, which only made your omega freak out more.

You flopped onto your back, a groan of frustration leaving your lips. You picked up your phone for the umpteenth time that night, but this time your finger hovered over Simon’s contact. Soap’s words whispered in your mind again, but this time, you listened.

Your fingers flew across the screen before your more rational side could stop them.

Hey. Are you awake? We need to talk.

You threw your phone down onto your bed, your hands flying up to cover your face as another groan of frustration pushed past your lips. You hated this. All of it. You wished you could go back in time and somehow stopped all of this from happening. But, it didn’t work like that.

Simon wasn’t in any better of a state than you. He rarely slept as is, but he had found it especially hard since you had left his quarters. His thoughts were all consumed by self-deprecation and fear, and those thoughts became especially loud in the darkness of his quarters, where your sick, rotted scent still clung to his bedsheets from where you had laid for those three days. When he heard his phone buzz from where it lay face down on his bedside table, he had half a mind to ignore it, just as he had done with everything other than work the last week and a half. But something told him that it was important. He sighed, stretching his arm out to blindly grab at the device from where he was laying face down in his bed. He looked at the bright screen, his eyes adjusting to the light. As soon as he saw your name flashing across his screen, he flipped over and sat up. His heart raced as he read your text, so many worst-case scenarios flashing through his mind.

He normally wasn’t the type to worry like this. To feel anything for anyone, as evidenced by the neglect he had put you through. But, after seeing you so close to death, and his conversations with Soap and Price, he had noticed it more and more. This all-consuming desire to protect you, to be what you need. But, he would still stand by what he told you that very first day, before you had passed out. If you still wanted to break the bond, he would.

He just hoped that this wasn’t what this conversation was going to be about.

Do you want me to come to yours or do you want to come here?

His response was short, succinct. The detached words completely betrayed the way his hands shook as he typed out the response carefully, trying to give you the space to make the decision without being too overbearing.

Your response didn’t come on his phone. Instead, 10 minutes later, there was a soft knock on his door. He jumped out of bed, tugging on a pair of sweatpants. As he opened the door with one hand, the other was deftly tying the strings of his pants.

Your gaze fell down to the movement, your cheeks heating up in a flush of embarrassment before your gaze snapped up to Simon’s. Your tongue felt heavy, uncertain of itself. “Hi.”

Your scent hit Simon at full-force. You smelled better than you had the last time you were in his quarters. Your warm, caramelized vanilla, full of spice and the thinnest layer of medical antiseptic and gunpowder. It smelled much more like you, right, but there was still something off. You smelled… defeated, almost, like you had given up. And, maybe, you had.

“Hey,” he whispered back in response. He felt uncertain, something he wasn’t familiar with. “You said we needed to talk?”

You looked down at the floor, biting the corner of your lower lip. You knew what you needed, what your omega wanted, but your logical side was holding you back. You nodded slightly, keeping your gaze averted. “Can I come in?”

Simon nodded, even though you couldn’t see it, and stepped back. You stepped inside, letting the door fall closed behind you. You looked around the room, noticing how much it hadn’t changed. Simon’s sheets were mussed up, and it was clear that he had been tossing and turning just as much as you had been. You sighed softly, running a hand down your face. Your omega side was whining, begging to be wrapped up in Simon, but it had finally started to settle down being within Simon’s quarters.

Simon stood awkwardly behind you - like a puppy afraid to be seen. You felt the emotions radiating off of him, smelled it in the air. His normal scent had soured slightly, but you could tell he was trying to hide it. You glanced over your shoulder at him, and, sure enough, his hand was clamped over one of his scent glands to try and dampen the scent. He stared back at you, his brown eyes filled with a sad warmth. A frown tugged at your own lips as you saw the sadness in his gaze, a strange feeling of guilt flaring in your chest.

“What did you need to talk about?” He asked softly, his gaze unwavering from yours.

Strangely, just hearing those words from him broke something in you. Maybe it was the fact that you were exhausted, your omega so wounded and confused, or that you were so tired of being enemies - whatever the reason, it truly didn’t matter. Tears started to well in your lash line, your eyes closing to try and fight against the unrelenting tide. In the brief watery moment, you saw Simon’s face morph into thinly-veiled panic, and right when your eyes closed, you felt his arms wrap around you.

“Hey, hey, love, shhh…” Simon muttered softly as he shifted his body to press completely against yours. Your hands came up to rest on his bare chest as the tears started to flow freely. Your chest stuttered as you tried to force air into your lungs, but this was all too much and yet, not enough. “It’s okay. I got you. I got you.”

You shook your head, but you weren’t quite sure what you were denying as the tips of your omega claws dug slightly into the thick muscle of his pectoral. “I… I’m tired, Simon,” you whispered in response, your voice weak and shaky. “I’m so, so fucking tired.”

He pressed you further into his chest, your head slotting perfectly under his chin. “I know, sweetheart. I know. Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head again, not trusting yourself to speak. Not trusting yourself to keep the armor of spite and anger that you had carefully crafted over the last few months at bay. You knew what you needed. From both yourself and him.

Vulnerability.

“Tell me what you need, love. Please. You’ve done such a good job blocking me out, I can’t get a read on you. I need you to talk to me. I want to help you, but I can’t without words.”

“I-I didn’t do it on purpose,” You sobbed out, pressing your face further into his skin, angling it to get as close as you can to the scent gland on the underside of his jaw.

A small grumble shook in his chest as he pulled you impossibly closer, a huff rustling your hair. He placed his lips against the top of your skull gently, rocking the two of you slightly as you wept. “I know,” he muttered, his lips brushing your hair tenderly as he spoke. “It’s my fault. I pushed you away. I fucked up. And I ain’t gonna stand here and make excuses anymore. There was reasons for why I reacted the way I did, but… now’s not the time to go into them. Just know that… I’m here for you. I got you, love. In every and any way that you want me.”

“I don’t know how to forgive you.” The words were small, little more than a breath of shaky, pain-filled air that brushed against the thin, delicate skin of his throat.

And, fuck, if that didn’t stab him through the chest like a twisting blade. He knew he deserved it, gods, he knew it, but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“I know,” he whispered in response, but his voice lacked any real strength. He sounded hollow, like your whispered admission had completely shattered him. “I know.”

“I’m just so tired,” you repeated, your voice breaking on another sob. “I don’t know what to do, I’m so fucking… I’m torn, Simon. Every day the logical side of my brain and my omega have been at war with each other, and I’m so fucking tired of fighting it. I give up.”

“You… you give up?” Simon whispered, his voice coated in shock.

You tilted your head up higher, moving away from him just enough to look up at him fully. Your cheeks were streaked with tears, the skin red and swollen. For the first time in a long time, you could feel his emotions through the bond. The shock, the self-hatred, the pain that ricocheted through his body felt almost like your own. Even through the onslaught of his emotions, you could feel your heart, which had been so cold and detached to his, warm slightly. He cares. You blinked, trying to will the tears away enough to look at Simon - really look at him for the first time, probably ever.

“I give up on pretending I don’t need you.”

Simon blinks. Once. Twice. Three times.

“What?” he mumbled, his voice still filled with shock.

“At least for now. I’m tired of fighting it. All of it. And I might not know how to forgive you, how to trust you outside of a battlefield, but I’m tired of sleeping in an empty bed away from the man I’m mated to. I’m tired of avoiding each other like the plague. I’m tired of feeling like I’m incomplete. I’m just… tired.”

Tired. Simon could work with tired. The trust and the bond strengthening and all of that can come after. But, it’s a chance. And that’s all he needed.

“Do you want to stay the night?”

You nodded slowly, forcing yourself to maintain eye contact. You knew you couldn’t run any longer. And you knew that this, even just for a night, would help soothe your omega. The actual conversation can wait until the morning.

tag list: @kerst666 @misscaller06 @letaliabane @sai-int @itsmeamysworld @massivescissorsthingperson @aeeliy @alkalineapparition @cringeycookies @trulovekay @luvlyleah276 @mundanenonsense @unclearblur

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notiddygothgf · 22 hours ago

Text

ii.

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ You're drunk. ❞ ❝ Not that drunk. ❞

★ c.w.: tension. drinking. reader embarrassing the hell out of herself omg. not beta'd

★ a/n: oh my god i was so excited after the amount of love i got on the last chapter that i absolutely had to rush this one out!!! i was literally ripping my shirt off bc of the tension i just want them to fuck omg. (Jk... not rlly tho stay tuned). anyway if you couldnt tell im super aki hungry lately. this chapter is the result of that. we get to see a different side to the cold blooded captain.... i think yall r gonna like it just trust me ;)

again i apologize for the fast pacing, pls remember that this is a short story! (though shameless was supposed to be short too so who knows i may rewrite it into a longfic teehee). you know the drill! leave lots and lots of comments for me to read and ill make that next chapter come out stat! get ready... its a long one lol xx

★ w.c: .5.2k

pornstar ; chapter index

THE NIGHT – for the most part – had just started. Your drinks, on the other hand, hadn't waited up. You were three beers deep, head perched on your hand, peering at Himeno, who was telling some wild recount of the mission you had just had. Everyone else was listening, too, heads turned, eyes wide while she described the way you had "swooped in and saved the day" (something Hayakawa had chewed you out for).

"She blew a hole straight through the building," She was saying. "But there were no casualties. Talk about precision, am I right?"

And, eyelids droopy as all hell, you laughed, swirling the piss yellow liquid around in your beer mug. The pleasant buzz from the few drinks you'd had were beginning to seep into your skin, warmth washing over you in slow, comforting waves. You basked in it for a moment, tuning out of the conversation being had only a few feet away.

You tuned out and, instead, your attention shifted. You see, it was hard to stay focused when a certain someone you hadn't expected to show up actually wound up pulling through, now seated at the other end of the table looking far too uptight to be at a friendly gathering. He was wearing his Public Safety uniform – the one you had never seen him out of... not that you were thinking about what he looked like out of uniform, or anything like that – and he looked good enough to have you questioning your own sanity.

You swore it was the alcohol – you swore it was. Nothing else could explain the way your pulse thrummed a little harder in your veins when he looked up and caught your gaze, cobalt eyes tearing you apart at the seams. Hair pulled back perfectly into his signature ponytail, not a strand out of place. He hadn't taken off his suit, but you were suddenly rather conscious of how much larger than you he was – of the way he seemed that much taller than you, even when he was sitting down, of the way his suit accentuated his broad shoulders. His jawline was sharp and angular, just like the rest of him, and his eyes... fuck, his eyes...

Were staring right at you.

Biting back a shriek, you averted your gaze, glaring into your lap like that would make the situation any better. You had to take the situation at face value – you had invited your superior out to drinks and were now making a complete and utter fool out of yourself by spending the evening making goo-goo eyes at him.

Oh, and not to mention the fact that you were supposed to hate his fucking guts.

Shaking yourself out of it, you tuned back into Himeno's conversation, trying to latch onto her words like a lifeline.

"So then, this asshole pops out of nowhere—like, I swear to God, he came out of thin air—and he goes for her throat. But!—" She punctuated her words with an exaggerated hand motion, nearly knocking over her beer in the process. "She dodges like it's nothing. I mean, I've never seen reflexes like that. It was unreal."

You managed a laugh, though it came out a little delayed, like your body had to remember how to react. The alcohol had made you sluggish, slow, and the warmth in your chest had turned sticky, clinging to your ribs. You weren't even sure what you were feeling anymore, but something about it didn't sit right.

Your gaze slid back to him—because of course it did. And this time, when you looked, he wasn't looking back.

Instead, Aki's attention was on something else entirely—on someone else. He was speaking to one of the girls from another division. Kobeni, you realized. She was nodding, awkward and stiff, while he spoke, his expression the same measured, unreadable one he always wore.

You let your head drop onto Himeno's shoulder, exhaling through your nose. What the hell is going on between us?

It wasn't like you. You weren't the type to get hung up on things like this. But tonight, the drinks had loosened something in you, and you could feel it unraveling, thread by thread. Aki was a pain in your ass. He was the one constantly calling you reckless, the one always tightening the reins when you stepped even a little out of line. You weren't supposed to care. You weren't supposed to notice how sharp his jaw looked under the dim bar lights or the way his hands moved when he spoke.

And yet.

Himeno, drunker than you were, said nothing about the way you leaned against her, only let her head tilt slightly against yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

You shut your eyes for a moment. Maybe if you pretended you weren't watching him, pretended you weren't thinking about this at all, it would stop feeling like something.

But it didn't work.

No, once more, your gaze drifted back to the damn captain. This time, when he spoke to Kobeni, she smiled – wide enough to crease the skin at the corners of her eyes. She was a pretty, young thing. She had pretty eyes and pretty, chestnut brown hair. She was shy and timid and took orders very well – everything you were not.

I wonder if he likes her, You couldn't help but wonder, smile dropping from your face while you observed the two of them in conversation.

A strange feeling clawed its way over your chest. Something you couldn't name. It was a horrible, rotten feeling. One you hadn't felt since you were a highschooler. It sat in your stomach like a brick, burning its way through your arteries, prying at your lips for escape.

It was jealousy.

Oh, what the fuck?

She definitely likes him, you thought. That much was evident by the way she leaned into her superior's space, eagerly taking in every word that left his mouth. Her eyes glimmered with something that made your stomach churn.

It was jealousy, you knew that, but... why? Why him? Why now?

Why the fuck did you even care?

Why did you feel jealous over a man you hated?

Himeno's hand on your shoulder shook you out of your drunken gaze. You perked up, lifting your head from the crook in her shoulder, turning your attention away from the scene in front of you so you could dedicate all of your attention to someone more deserving of it.

"You know, kohai," She giggled, face flushed with a drunken shade. "You're really pretty."

Am I in the twilight zone?

You smiled at her, "That's coming from you."

"Oh, shut up," The woman replied, batting you away with your hands, laughing up a storm. "I wanna ask you... ask you 'sumthin."

You knit your brows together, pursing your lips. "What's up?"

She looked at you, then, lashes fluttering over her one good eye, mischief written all over her face. You knew you shouldn't have asked, but you were even more shocked by her answer, "Would you kiss me?"

You laughed at that – you couldn't help it, truly. Himeno had kissed just about every person in the division (though you weren't sure if that excluded a certain stuck-up bastard, and you were even less sure that you wanted to ask). Still, it was because of that fact that you knew her request was harmless. It was... just her way of showing love while drunk. She couldn't help it.

"I didn't know you could swing that way, Himeno," You laughed.

"I've never tried– hic– tried," She shrugged, as if she was asking the easiest question in the entire world. "'M jussst... curious, aren't you?"

You answered back, "Not really."

And she pouted at that – like she was a child and not a drunk-ass, grown-ass woman, "Why not? Am I not your type?"

No, but apparently someone else is.

Peering down at the table, vision a little hazy, you polished off the rest of your beer. Then, you added, "You could say that."

Why do I feel drunker than I did a few minutes ago?

"Who's your type, then?" She asked, leaning forward, all up into your personal space, and it would have bothered you if it was anyone else, "Do you like girls? Guys?"

"Never really explored, but..." You hummed. The beer made its way down the back of your throat, warming your vocal chords, your stomach, your chest. "Guys, I guess."

Then that devilish little grin of hers was back on her face. "If you could fuck anyone here, then, who would it be?"

"Sober or drunk?" You laughed, setting your empty mug down with a soft clink.

Himeno cackled, tipping forward slightly in her seat. The alcohol had turned her loose, made her limbs sluggish and her voice louder than she probably realized. "A few shots, maybe. Not drunk."

You hummed, drumming your fingers against the table, pretending to give it some thought. But the answer was already there, sitting heavy in the back of your mind, waiting for a moment of weakness to slip through the cracks.

Captain Hayakawa.

The name surfaced so quickly, so naturally, that it startled you. And before you could stop yourself, before you could even pretend to fight it, your gaze flickered back to him.

Big mistake.

Because Himeno caught it immediately.

She gasped, sharp and dramatic, smacking a hand over her mouth like she had just witnessed a crime scene. It was so loud, so cartoonish, that a few people turned to look, and you had to resist the urge to sink into your seat.

"No fucking way," she whispered, but there was nothing subtle about the gleam in her eye. She practically vibrated with excitement, like she'd just stumbled upon the juiciest piece of gossip imaginable. Then, with a grin, she leaned in, voice hushed but not nearly hushed enough. "You're hot for captain?"

You snapped your head toward her so fast you nearly gave yourself whiplash. "No—no, no," you hissed, gripping her forearm in a weak attempt to physically shut her up. "Shut up, Himeno."

She wasn't having it. She wiggled her brows at you, eyes twinkling with amusement. "No fucking way," she repeated, drawing out every syllable like she was savoring them. "I thought you hated his guts."

"I do," you shot back, a little too fast, a little too forceful. It was immediate. Instinctive. A reflex.

And she noticed.

The look on her face turned downright smug.

"I don't have the hots for him," you corrected, shaking your head, willing your face to cool down even as it burned. "Now would you keep it down?"

Himeno held up her hands in surrender, but there was something devious in the way she did it, like she was still holding onto the truth of the situation, just waiting for the right moment to pry it back open.

She sat back slightly, but then, after a beat—because of course she couldn't just leave it at that—she leaned in again, voice dipping lower, eyes gleaming. "If you were a little drunker, though..."

You groaned, slapping a hand over your face. "Enough," you hissed, dragging out the word, but your voice lacked bite.

She was full-on giggling now, shoulders shaking, thoroughly enjoying your suffering.

Then, her laughter faded—just a little—and she tilted her head, giving you a look that was too knowing, too amused. "Not even a kiss?"

"No," you said, firm. But somehow, it didn't feel quite as firm as it should have.

The night went smoothly after that. Drinks and conversation were flowing, you were sufficiently drunk, and the lot of you were laughing loud enough to disturb any of the other patrons who came to this poor izakaya to get moderately tipsy.

The drinks kept coming, conversation swelling louder with each round, the izakaya thick with smoke and the scent of grilled meat. You were properly drunk, the kind where your limbs felt loose, where laughter came too easily, where everything should've been fun, should've been easy.

Except it wasn't.

Because across the table, Aki was still talking to Kobeni.

And you didn't care. You didn't.

You had no reason to. You weren't friends. You weren't anything. If anything, you hated his guts—his quiet, know-it-all demeanor, his stupid pretty face, the way he always acted so fucking above it all. Like he was better than the rest of you just because he didn't get sloppy drunk, didn't fuck around, didn't let things get to him.

And yet—

Your drink was empty again. When had that happened? You barely remembered drinking it. You reached for the bottle to pour yourself more, but your hand wasn't as steady as you wanted it to be. Himeno laughed beside you, grabbing the bottle before you could knock it over.

"Take it easy," she teased, topping off your glass anyway.

You snorted. "I'm fine."

Himeno grinned, and for a moment, you let yourself focus on her instead. It was easier. She was warm, easy to be around, all teasing smiles and the kind of confidence that made everything feel simple.

But then—

Another laugh from across the table. Aki's.

You hadn't even known he could laugh like that, low and quiet, the kind that didn't come often. Your stomach twisted before you could stop it, your head snapping toward him on instinct.

Kobeni was leaning in, her hands curled in her lap, nodding at whatever he'd said. And Aki—he wasn't even looking at her anymore, just staring down at his drink, lips twitching like he wasn't sure if he should be amused or annoyed.

You clenched your jaw.

It wasn't like they were doing anything.

Aki wasn't flirting—he wasn't the type. You knew that. He wasn't the kind of guy to lean in too close, to lower his voice just enough to make someone's breath hitch, to toy with people the way Himeno did. He was the exact opposite—quiet, serious, all sharp edges and self-control.

And yet, there was something unbearable about the way he was sitting there, across the table, listening to Kobeni like she was worth listening to.

She was talking—some pointless, forgettable thing, probably about work—but her body language spoke louder than her words. The way she fidgeted with her glass, how she kept sneaking glances at him, how her voice wavered slightly before picking up again, like she was hesitating before every sentence. She was nervous. And that alone made you feel like something was pressing against your ribs, like a slow, smoldering ember was settling somewhere beneath your skin.

She was trying.

Trying to impress him. Trying to be seen by him.

And Aki—Aki, idiot that he was—just sat there, unreadable as ever, nodding along, responding just enough to keep the conversation going but not enough to give anything away. Not pushing her away. Not shutting her down.

Letting her talk. Letting her have his attention.

Your fingers tightened around your drink.

It was stupid.

You didn't even like him.

You weren't sure if you even respected him. Half the time, you couldn't stand him—his rules, his orders, the way he always acted so damn above it all. You'd seen him roll his eyes at you more times than you could count, seen the way he sighed when you got under his skin. You weren't his type, and he sure as hell wasn't yours.

So you had no reason—none at all—to feel that awful, simmering thing curling in your stomach.

Maybe it was just the alcohol.

Or maybe it was something uglier.

Maybe it was the fact that if Aki ever looked at you the way Kobeni looked at him, you wouldn't know what the fuck to do with it. Maybe it was the idea that he could like someone like her—quiet, nervous, too polite for her own good—when all he ever did with you was act like you were a fucking nuisance.

Maybe it was that, deep down, you had always assumed Aki didn't have the capacity to like anyone at all.

And now, watching him sit there, watching Kobeni work up the nerve to inch closer, to brush her fingers against the edge of his sleeve like she was testing the waters—you weren't so sure anymore.

You downed your drink, jaw tightening.

Himeno nudged you, her voice playful but perceptive. "You're awfully quiet," she mused, lips quirking.

You exhaled sharply, barely processing the words before your own were spilling out.

"I changed my mind."

Himeno blinked. "Huh?"

You didn't think.Didn't hesitate. Didn't second-guess yourself.

Your hand curled into the fabric of Himeno's collar, tugging her forward with more force than necessary. There was barely a beat of surprise before your lips crashed against hers, the alcohol burning hot in your veins, your pulse hammering in your ears.

The izakaya erupted around you. A chair scraping against the floor, a loud whistle, the sharp intake of breath from someone—Kobeni, probably. Laughter. Someone shouting something half-coherent in encouragement. The kind of scene that would normally make you self-conscious, make you want to shrink away from the attention.

But you didn't shrink away.

Because Himeno kissed you back.

And she kissed you like she meant it.

Her lips tasted like warm sake, sweet and sharp, the scent of cigarette smoke clinging faintly to her. Her fingers slid up your neck, slow and deliberate, curling at the base of your skull. She deepened the kiss, tilting her head just enough to press closer, her breath mingling with yours.

For a second, it was grounding.

For a second, the heat of it, the weight of her hands, the press of her body against yours—it was enough to drown out the gnawing, ugly feeling twisting in your stomach.

You could feel her smirk against your mouth. Himeno had always been good at this—at teasing, at making things feel light, easy. Like none of it had to mean anything.

When she pulled back, her grin was lazy, her eyes lidded and amused. Her fingers stayed in your hair, playing absently with the strands.

"Damn," she murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear, "You kiss like a man. I like it."

The words should've embarrassed you.

Should've made you regret it.

But you just laughed, breathless. It felt a little hollow.

Because when you glanced toward Aki's seat—

He was gone.

Your stomach dropped, the lightness of the moment collapsing in on itself.

And just like that, the heat you'd felt seconds ago twisted into something unbearable.

The room was too loud. Too warm. The laughter too sharp, the smell of alcohol suddenly cloying. Himeno was still watching you, her teasing smile lingering, but you couldn't focus on any of it.

Your hands curled into fists at your sides.

It shouldn't have mattered. It didn't matter. But your heart was pounding anyway, and suddenly the room felt too loud, the heat of it unbearable. Himeno was still looking at you, a teasing remark likely on the tip of her tongue, but you couldn't focus on any of it.

That asshole, you thought – ideas ruminating in your mind. I'm gonna give him a piece of my mind, leaving with no excuse like that.

You pushed your chair back, barely hearing the legs scrape against the floor.

"Where are you—?" Himeno started, but you were already moving, shoving past the press of bodies, stepping outside.

The night air hit you immediately, a sharp contrast to the stifling warmth of the izakaya. The street was damp from earlier rain, neon lights from nearby signs reflecting off the slick pavement. The noise from inside was muffled now, like it belonged to a different world.

You didn't stop until you came face-to-face with an intimidating figure. You exhaled slowly, breath curling in the cold. And then—

Aki.

He stood a few steps away, his back against the wall, a cigarette balanced between his fingers. He wasn't smoking it, not yet—just twirling it absently, gaze fixed on some distant point down the street. His expression was unreadable, the way it always was.

And he was devastatingly handsome, even now – fucking asshole.

Biting back a drunk little grin – and realizing that you knew damn well you would never, ever have done this sober – you approached him, hips swaying from side to side. Whether the motion was due to your trying to come off as enticing or due to the copious amounts of sake and beer you had ingested, you weren't sure. Hell, you weren't sure about anything anymore.

And, the moment those baby blues of his flicked up to meet your gaze, you immediately regretted coming out to find him. The fact that he was perceiving you now in such a drunken state was enough to have your heart beating against your ribs like an animal at the zoo (but not enough to make you back down now that you had him alone). You knew it was stupid, fuck, you should have turned back on your heel and gone back the way you had come, but you couldn't stop yourself.

No, I have to give him a piece of my mind.

His eyes dropped down to your outfit – the little black dress you definitely hadn't picked out with him in mind, making sure that it revealed just the right amount of cleavage, hugged you in all of the right places – and then back up to your face. The movement was small, almost perceptible, but in your wasted state, you were hyperconscious of his every move, of the way his eyes widened when they saw you, the way you could smell the scent of him from where you were standing, masculine, woody, ambery cologne mingled in with the faintest hint of smoke.

You were so drunk that you were practically seeing two of him until you refocused your eyes. So drunk that, for a moment, you couldn't say anything – realizing that you had forgotten to come up with an excuse to see him at that moment – and neither could he.

You were the first one to break the silence. "You're such an asshole."

He didn't look the slightest bit phased by your words. Instead, he reached into his pocket and searched for his lighter, holding it up to the end of the cigarette and striking the wheel until the flame took.

"You just... left," You swallowed, throat suddenly very dry.

He held the cigarette up to his lips, popping it between them like it was the most natural thing in the world, taking a deep breath. You watched the tension melt away from his shoulders, smelled the nicotine as it wafted up into the air around you.

Then, finally, he glanced at you, raising an eyebrow, "Yeah."

Your pulse jumped at the sound of his voice for no reason whatsoever. Pouting, you crossed your arms, damn near stumbling as you did so, "You didn't even say anything. No goodbye, no nothing."

"I was stepping out for a smoke," He breathed smoke out into the air. "Didn't think I needed to."

God, he pissed you off. Him and... his... his beautiful, blue eyes, and... fuck.

"You could at least pretend to be fun sometimes," You muttered – you thought it was beneath your breath, but when you caught the way his head tilted at your words, you knew that wasn't the case. So, instead of apologizing for insubordination like you probably should have done, you decided to dig your grave a little deeper. "You just sit in there– hic– all stiff, barely... barely drinkin', actin' like– like you're... too good for the rest of us."

"I'm tipsy enough," He hummed. "Not that that's any of your business, and I wasn't acting like anything."

Now, this was the point where any sane person would have dropped to their knees and apologized to him.

Not you, though.

No, the liquid courage coursing through your veins deluded you into thinking that you could talk some sense into him.

Actually, what came out was something entirely different.

"You were all over Kobeni," You narrowed your eyes. The words left your lips before you could even stop them. Immediately, regret settled in your chest, washing over you in waves – making your face burn.

There's no way I just said that to him, you chastised yourself internally, Fuck, I'm gonna be fired.

Aki didn't react at first. Just stared at you. Then, after a beat, he let out a short, dry sigh.

"You're drunk."

You pouted, "Not that drunk." (Which was a total lie. You were practically smelling colors).

He studied you again with those fucking... hawk eyes of his, gaze sharp in a way that made your skin crawl with anxiety. He wasn't looking at you the way Kobeni had looked at him – wasn't waiting for something, hoping for something. But he was looking at you.

Finally looking at you. And somehow, that was worse.

"She was asking me about an upcoming assignment," He commented, voice flat. You should have been grateful that he had even decided to humor you and your drunk interrogation, realistically. "That's it."

He's... surprisingly patient today.

I wonder how far I can push him until he snaps, you thought, not really knowing why – or, for that matter, what the hell had crawled into your brain to control you and make all of these stupid decisions.

You huffed, "Oh."

"Yeah," He pulled another hit from his cigarette, and this time, you observed him – the sinful way his lips wrapped around the end of it, cherry glowing orange while he took another deep breath. Then, you watched him breathe the smoke out through his nose. "You're a real pain in my ass. You know that?"

You didn't know why – the same way you didn't know why everything was happening, but you laughed. It was more like a giggle, really, a bubbly, drunken noise that you practically choked out. Either way, it was enough to have him looking at you like you had two heads.

You stumbled a little closer to him and, to your surprise, he didn't inch away. Instead, his gaze followed your sluggish movements, different, this time – like a cat eyeing up a naive little mouse. Like you were prey.

"What the hell's gotten into you tonight?" He asked.

Stumbling over your feet, you braced your hands on the wall in front of you, dropping your head and laughing a little harder. Truthfully, you didn't know why you were laughing. Nothing was funny. None of this was funny.

Even more truthfully – as you peeled your gaze up from the ground, from Aki's shoes, you realized that you weren't leaning on a wall at all.

You were leaning on him.

I'm fucking dead, you thought. If I wake up tomorrow, I'll be handed a letter of termination.

You met his gaze head-on, half-lidded eyes peering up at him through your lashes. He didn't break eye-contact this time. No, he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him – like neither of you knew why any of this was happening, like you weren't quite sure if you wanted it to stop, either, even though you knew it should.

You could see it again – the faint shift in his expression, in the way he looked at you. Something had definitely changed. There was an unreadable glint in his eyes. Maybe if you were sober, you would have been able to tell what it was.

Then again, if you were sober, you would have done the right thing tonight and stayed inside. You certainly wouldn't have been there, leaning on his shoulder, looking up at him and realizing that everything was different.

It wasn't just the alcohol. No, he was different.

"I hope you're not driving home," He commented, though his voice lacked its usual tenor, its usual confidence. "Not like this."

Why's he actin' so weird?

"Since when did you care?" You pouted. When he said nothing, you answered. "Okay, I walked here."

"Good," He sighed.

"You wanna walk me home?"

The words slurred out before you could even process them, and you immediately regretted asking. Aki, cigarette hanging loosely between his fingers, exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching you from the corner of his eye, but his gaze didn't soften.

"No."

His response was quick, firm, and just a little too cold. But the way his gaze flickered over you, almost a little too long, made you wonder if he wasn't as unaffected as he wanted you to think.

You blinked, not entirely sure what you were expecting but not that. "Why not?" you asked, and your voice came out more whiny than you'd intended.

Aki didn't immediately answer, flicking the cigarette ash onto the ground, the ember glowing brighter for a brief second. He looked at you, expression unreadable for a moment. Then, his voice was low and tired. "Because I don't feel like it."

You frowned, feeling the weight of his words tug at your chest, though you couldn't fully explain why. "Lame," you muttered. You weren't sure what you were even getting at anymore, but the thought of being alone tonight felt worse than anything else.

He eyed you for a second, but there was something softer in his expression now. Maybe it was the alcohol kicking in for him, too. "You're drunk," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture you weren't sure was out of discomfort or something else.

You smiled—more like a crooked grin, but you couldn't help it. "I'm not that drunk," you protested, but you swayed on your feet as you said it, and he didn't look convinced.

Aki's lips curled into something between a smirk and a sigh, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh. Sure, you're not." His eyes flicked to yours again, a little too keen for someone who was supposed to be this dismissive.

"I just... don't wanna be alone," you muttered, the words coming out before you even realized you were saying them.

Aki stared at you for a long moment, and you swore there was a flicker of something in his gaze—annoyance? Amusement? But it passed just as quickly. "Well, that's your problem," he said with a dry chuckle, his tone flat, as though he were trying to make it clear he didn't want to hear it. "Not mine."

You stumbled slightly, both from the alcohol and the sting of his words. "Right," you muttered, trying to steady yourself, feeling the warm rush of liquid courage running through you. But as you stood there, looking up at him, something started to sink in. This was Aki. You knew him. Knew his moods. His indifference. But this, tonight—something was different.

"I... just," you began, trying to find the right words, but they came out jumbled. "Just... help me, okay?" The desperation was there, but you weren't sure if he saw it.

His eyes softened slightly, the sharpness in them dulling just a little as his cigarette burned down to a stub. "Help you? What, do you expect me to just babysit you?"

You winced at the word, the thought stinging more than it should have. "No," you murmured, taking a step closer to him. "I just..." You trailed off, biting your lip. The alcohol was starting to cloud your thoughts even more, but you couldn't shake the feeling that if you didn't convince him now, you'd really be on your own. And you couldn't handle that tonight.

Aki raised an eyebrow at you, clearly unsure of what you were getting at. "What?" he asked, a little too bluntly for your liking.

You stared up at him, breath a little shaky. "Please," you repeated, but this time, there was something more vulnerable in your tone. "Pleeeeeeeasee."

The words felt like a weight that had to be lifted, but they also made you feel foolish. You weren't that drunk. You weren't. But the world felt like it was spinning out of control, and you didn't know where to place your feet anymore.

Aki took a deep breath, dragging a hand down his face as if trying to process everything you'd just said. There was no edge in his voice anymore, just a weariness that made you wonder if you weren't the only one who'd had too much to drink.

"You're really something," he muttered, shaking his head. "I don't even know why I'm putting up with this."

"I'll cry," you said, half-laughing, half-serious. The words felt ridiculous, but they slipped out anyway, desperate in their simplicity.

Aki's gaze softened a little, though the smirk that tugged at his lips was almost imperceptible. "Go ahead," he said, voice flat, but his eyes held something deeper.

The silence stretched between you as you waited for him to backpedal, to somehow take back that easy dismissal. But instead, his shoulders sagged, and he sighed, long and loud. He took a last drag from his cigarette, flicked it to the ground, and ground it out beneath his heel.

"Fine," he muttered, and the words caught you off guard. "I'll walk you home."

For a moment, you didn't believe him, like the weight of what he was agreeing to was still sinking in. You blinked, slightly stunned. "Wait, really?"

He shot you an incredulous look, though his eyes softened just a little, like he was too tired to argue anymore. "Yeah, really. Can we go now, before you start actually crying?"

You blinked, a small, unsteady laugh slipping from your lips. You hadn't expected him to cave so easily, and it made you feel like you'd gotten away with something. But then, the weight of what you'd just gotten him to agree to settled in. You didn't want to push your luck any further.

Aki took a step back and gestured toward the door of the izakaya, his voice dropping lower. "We can't leave together. Not like this. If people see us leaving at the same time, it'll look weird."

The realization hit you. Of course. Everyone had been watching you all night, and there was no way you could just stroll out of there with him without someone noticing. "Right," you mumbled, feeling a little embarrassed at how quickly you'd forgotten about that. "Okay. You go first."

He nodded, his expression softening just a touch. "I'll wait a few minutes, make it look like I'm staying." He gave you a dry look, his lips curling into that familiar smirk. "Try not to make a scene on your way out. Himeno's gonna wonder what's going on."

You winced, the reminder of Himeno's playful teasing still fresh in your mind. "Yeah, yeah. I'll be fine," you muttered, more to yourself than to him. You were still trying to process the fact that Aki—Aki—had actually agreed to walk you home.

He gave you a brief nod before turning to head toward the back of the bar, disappearing behind a row of drunken patrons and laughter, the sound of his footsteps muffled by the noise inside.

You took a deep breath and steadied yourself, trying to ignore the swirl of thoughts that followed you like a second layer of fog. You'd barely had enough time to process everything that had happened between you two tonight, let alone now have to pretend like nothing was different.

You swayed a little as you turned back toward the group, feeling that odd combination of exhilaration and dread settling in your chest. When you reached Himeno's side, she was already watching you with that sly little grin of hers. She could probably read you like a book, even if you were still half-drunk.

You straightened your shoulders, trying to force a smile. "I'm heading out," you told her, your voice still a little shaky. "Long day tomorrow."

Himeno raised an eyebrow but said nothing for a moment, like she was trying to make sense of something you weren't telling her. "Uh-huh. Sure," she replied, her voice a little too casual for your liking. "Alright. Be careful. You arewalking home, right?"

You nodded quickly, swallowing down a lump in your throat. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I'll be fine."

Himeno eyed you for a beat longer before shrugging. "Okay. Have a good night," she said, her smile unreadable.

With that, you gave her a brief wave and turned to walk out of the izakaya. The door swung open, the chilly night air rushing in and hitting you like a bucket of cold water. You paused just outside, feeling the weight of the night settle around you.

Aki had said he'd wait a few minutes, and you weren't sure whether to be nervous or relieved.

Your feet shifted restlessly, the cold air biting at your skin as you leaned against the brick of the building, trying to look casual—like you weren't waiting for him at all.

You glanced around. The street was quieter now, with fewer people out and about, but still, the idea of walking home with Aki felt... strange. The thought of him so close to you, especially after everything that had happened, was almost more than you could handle.

Just when you thought maybe it'd be better to leave and get it over with, you heard footsteps behind you. Aki's figure appeared through the dim light, moving with the usual purposeful strides that somehow felt different tonight.

Without saying anything, he walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours just slightly as he headed down the street. He didn't stop, didn't turn around, and you could feel the shift in the air. The tension between you was undeniable now.

For a moment, you just stood there, your feet feeling rooted to the spot. You weren't sure what to do. You didn't want to make it obvious that you were waiting for him, but at the same time, you couldn't shake the odd sense of unease creeping over you. What was happening? What wasn't happening?

Finally, you exhaled, pushing yourself off the wall and walking slowly toward him. You didn't call out; it wasn't like you had to. It was clear that he wasn't planning on walking that far away from you.

Aki moved at a steady pace, hands shoved into his pockets as he walked ahead, the cool breeze tugging at the collar of his jacket. You felt a weird, unfamiliar pressure building in your chest as you matched his steps, not sure if you were keeping your distance on purpose or if it was because you didn't know where to start.

When you reached his side, you glanced at him briefly. He didn't acknowledge you, not really. It was like you were walking side-by-side by accident, like this was just some strange, unspoken part of the night that neither of you could quite comprehend.

You couldn't help yourself. "So," you started, your voice a little wobbly. "I didn't think you'd actually do it."

Aki turned his head, those sharp eyes of his flicking over you. "What? Walk you home?" he asked, voice rough around the edges. He didn't look at you like he normally did. There was something more distant about it, almost like the alcohol had drawn a line between you.

You nodded, feeling the weight of his presence beside you. "Yeah. Didn't think you were... I don't know, the type."

He snorted softly, a smirk tugging at his lips. "I'm not," he muttered, as if it was obvious. "But you were whining enough to make me reconsider."

Your stomach twisted at the thought of how easily he gave in to you tonight, like it was no big deal. But then again, you weren't sure if that was comforting or more uncomfortable.

You walked a little further before speaking again, your voice barely above a whisper. "So, what now?" You were almost afraid to ask, but at the same time, you had to know. Was this just a one-off thing? Was he going to pretend none of this had happened?

Aki didn't answer right away. Instead, he kicked a small rock out of the way, his eyes focused straight ahead. "We're going to your place," he said, his tone back to its usual flatness. "Wherever that is."

You didn't know why, but you couldn't shake the knot of disappointment tightening in your chest.

Before you could process it, Aki's voice broke through your thoughts again, low and dry.

"You good, or you gonna keep asking me questions?"

You swallowed hard, suddenly too aware of your drunken haze. "I'm good."

A moment passed. You paid close attention to the sound of your heels on the pavement, the sound of his sneakers touching the same surface.

"I just realized I don't even know your address," He added, almost like he felt bad about shutting you up.

"I live at the– uh... you know where the post office is?" You rattled off the top of your head. He seemed like a man with a good sense of direction.

He nodded.

"Okay, well, I live right across from it. At the apartment complex," You finished.

His eyes narrowed, "That's only three blocks away."

"Yup," You nodded.

"You really couldn't walk that on your own?" He reiterated.

"Nope."

The cold air against your skin had sobered you just enough to think more clearly, but you still couldn't shake the feeling that something was... off. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol still buzzing through your system or the strange tension between the two of you, but the air felt heavy.

Aki was walking beside you, as stoic as ever, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. He hadn't said much since you left the izakaya, and you weren't sure if that was his usual silence or if something else was bothering him. Either way, it had you on edge, and you couldn't resist breaking the silence.

"So... tonight's been pretty weird, huh?" you said, glancing sideways at him as you tried to read his expression. You needed something from him, but you weren't sure what.

Aki didn't respond right away. He just gave you a quick glance, his sharp eyes flickering over you before he answered. "Weird how?"

You shrugged, feeling the alcohol's effects still lingering on your tongue. "I don't know. You've been quieter than usual."

Aki didn't seem particularly moved by that observation. "I'm not in the mood for small talk."

You exhaled in frustration, rubbing your eyes with your sleeve. "I guess not. But it's just... I've been acting weird tonight. Doing things I wouldn't normally do."

"Like what?" Aki asked, his voice flat but with a slight hint of curiosity.

"I kissed Himeno," you blurted, half-smiling to yourself at how ridiculous it sounded coming out of your mouth. You almost regretted saying it. But it had to be said, right?

Aki's head turned just slightly, but his face didn't change. "Yeah, and?"

You blinked, a little caught off guard by how quickly he dismissed it. "You know... it was a kiss. Just... fun, I guess."

"Fun," Aki repeated, though his voice was laced with a certain dryness. "Right."

You kept walking, feeling an odd twist in your stomach at how unbothered he was. You'd expected more of a reaction—something. Maybe you were wrong about trying to make him jealous. Maybe he didn't care at all.

But you didn't want to admit that. Instead, you pressed on. "She's a good kisser, though. Didn't think she had it in her."

Aki shot you another glance, his lips pressed together in a thin line. You could see the faintest shift in his expression, but it was gone so quickly you weren't sure if you imagined it. "Himeno, huh? You really go for the easy ones, don't you?"

It was a subtle jab, but it still managed to hit something inside of you. "I wouldn't say 'easy,'" you muttered, trying to shrug it off. "But yeah, I guess I've got a thing for—what?—fun, spontaneous stuff. You know, the kind of thing you wouldn't normally do."

Aki didn't answer right away, and the silence stretched between you. You could feel his eyes on you, but it wasn't the usual detached kind of look. No, this time, it felt like something more. Something that tugged at you, made your chest tighten in a way that was impossible to ignore.

"I've heard she's kissed just about everyone in the division. Wanted to see what the hype is all about," You tried again, "Have you tried it?"

Finally, Aki spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't kiss my coworkers. If it was just fun, then why are you still talking about it?"

You stumbled in your step, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice a little unsteady. "Maybe I just wanted to see if it would get a rise out of you."

What the fuck.

Why did I just say that?

Aki didn't look at you, but you could feel the slight shift in his posture. His shoulders tensed, just a little, as if he were trying to suppress something. "And what would you do if it did?"

"I don't know," you said, a little too quickly. "I just wanted to see if I could get you to show some... something. You know? Anything. You're always so cold towards me."

Aki was quiet for a moment, his jaw tightening as if he were holding something back. "You're a pain in the ass."

You almost laughed at that, a little breathless. "Yeah, I know."

But there was still something there. Something in the way he'd said it—something just beneath the surface. You weren't sure if it was jealousy, but it was definitely something. Aki wasn't being completely himself, and it was enough to make your heart beat just a little faster. But you weren't sure if it was what you thought it was.

"Did it work?"

Aki suddenly stopped walking, and you nearly collided with him. He turned to face you, his eyes locking onto yours in a way that made your breath catch. "Don't start up again. You're drunk."

You smiled, a little too wide, too tipsy to care. "I'm not that drunk," you said, though the slur in your words gave you away.

Aki's eyes narrowed just slightly, his expression unreadable. "You're still making me walk you home."

You shrugged, too giddy to care. "Yeah, guess so. I'm... not really in any shape to walk by myself."

He muttered something under his breath, a faint exhale through his nose that could have been a laugh, but it wasn't. It was something else. "You're lucky I'm not putting you in a cab."

You grinned at that, though you felt a twinge of something you couldn't quite explain. "You're just saying that 'cause you're being nice tonight."

Aki shot you a quick glance. For a moment, the playful banter fell away, and there was an unexpected quiet between you. You both kept walking, the sound of your footsteps the only thing filling the space between you. It was hard to tell if anything had changed, but it felt different somehow. The weight of the night was still there, but there was something new, too—a strange kind of closeness.

You turned to look at him again, but this time, the words caught in your throat. You didn't want to ask him, not now, not when you didn't know if it was a mistake.

But then, in a flash, you tripped.

Your heel caught on the uneven pavement, and you felt your body lurch forward. Before you could even react, Aki was there, his hand gripping your waist with surprising gentleness, steadying you before you could fall.

"Careful," he muttered, though his tone was almost... softer than usual.

He's so hot.

He's so hot and I'm tired of hiding it, you thought. Why do I want him?

Fuck! He's such an asshole.

"I'm fine," you said, shaking it off with a breathless laugh. "I'm just a mess tonight."

Aki didn't respond, but you felt his hand tighten around you just a little. The next thing you knew, he had shifted, his arm going around your waist and lifting you effortlessly over his shoulder.

"Hey!" you protested, half-laughing, half-protesting. "Put me down, asshat!"

Aki didn't even glance at you as he started walking again, his tone dry but with a hint of something else beneath it. "You can barely walk straight."

You grinned, a little more giddy than you should have been. "You're gonna hurt yourself!"

"Relax," He sighed. Still, he handled you with a dizzying ease. Like you didn't weigh anything at all.

I knew he was strong, but...

"Do you work out?" You spat out.

He didn't respond, his steps measured and steady, though there was something... different.

"Of course I do," He answered, like that should have been obvious. "Never know when I'll have to carry a drunk idiot back to their apartment."

His posture was firmer than usual, and for a split second, you could have sworn there was a small, satisfied edge to his voice. Maybe you weren't imagining it.

The night was still strange, but as Aki carried you through the darkened streets, you couldn't help but wonder just how much of this was real—and how much was a game you both were playing without even realizing it.

Aki carried you up the three blocks with the same steady pace, his grip around your waist unwavering as the night air nipped at your skin. Each step he took was deliberate, his posture firm, almost casual as though carrying you wasn't the slightest bit out of the ordinary. But you could feel his muscles shift under the weight of you, his body solid against yours, and it was hard to ignore how easy he made it look.

For a moment, it felt like the entire world had faded out—just you, him, and the soft thud of his footsteps on the pavement.

The dark streetlights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the sidewalk as you glanced at the city around you. Aki's pace didn't falter as he walked, but you were still aware of how close you were to him, how warm the space between you had become. It was like there was an invisible tension that grew the further you got to your building, one that neither of you could shake, no matter how casual the night seemed.

You shifted on his shoulder, trying to adjust, but the dizzying sway made you a little unsteady. "You really don't have to carry me, you know," you muttered, half-laughing at the absurdity of it all. "I'm not a child."

Aki didn't respond immediately. His fingers tightened just a little, a firm grip that told you he wasn't letting go until you were safely where you needed to be. Finally, he let out a quiet breath and murmured, "You're acting like one."

You rolled your eyes, but it wasn't like you could do anything about it. You were too comfortable in his hold, too grateful for how effortlessly he was handling the situation. "Okay, Dad, fff-fuck you."

You really needed to learn how to hold your own liquor.

"Not my fault you need someone to take care of you when you drink," Aki muttered, but the words held a different meaning. You didn't know if it was the alcohol or just your imagination, but there was something softer, almost protective in his tone. The walls he usually kept up were still there, but they were cracked just enough for you to catch a glimpse of something else.

Before you knew it, the three blocks had passed, and Aki had stopped right in front of your apartment building. He gently set you down on your feet, but you wobbled as soon as your heels hit the ground.

"Careful," Aki said, his voice low but with an undercurrent of concern.

You gave a half-hearted attempt at standing straight, but it was futile. "I'm fine," you muttered, your fingers fumbling for your keys in your purse. The alcohol was still buzzing in your head, making it hard to concentrate, but you finally felt the familiar cool metal of the key between your fingers. "Just—just give me a second."

Then, you dropped the damn thing. It fell to the floor with a frustrating clatter. With a groan, you bent over, plucking them off the ground and–

For a moment, you could have sworn you saw his eyes lingering on your backside.

No, it's just a trick of the light, you thought, I'm fucking plastered.

Still, it made you straighten up a little faster than you probably should have, locking eyes with him as you regained your balance. His expression was unreadable, but you didn't miss the way his lips tightened slightly, like he was keeping himself in check. Or maybe it was just his usual lack of interest. Either way, the tension between you two wasn't lost on you.

"Thanks for walking me, Captain," you said, trying to brush it off and make light of the moment. You threw in a sloppy salute, the gesture clumsy and half-hearted. You weren't even sure why you'd done it. Maybe to break the silence. Maybe because you needed to be something other than nervous.

Aki raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "You really trying to salute me now?"

You just grinned, more out of awkwardness than anything else, and straightened yourself up again. "It's the least I can do. I'm lucky I didn't trip over my own feet the whole way."

He rolled his eyes at your antics, but there was something softer in his gaze as it met yours. Maybe it was the alcohol, or maybe it was just the way the moment had lingered, but something felt a little different, like the usual distance between you both was starting to shrink.

Neither of you spoke for a beat, the silence hanging heavy in the air. You couldn't help but feel the weight of it. You knew you were both trying to act like this was just another night—nothing special, just a little drunk and out of place—but there was something in the quiet. Maybe it was the way Aki was standing a little closer, or how his usual guarded expression had softened, just a little, in a way you weren't used to.

You finally broke the stillness, desperate to fill the void. "You know," you started, your voice just a little slurred, "You're not as bad as you act."

Aki's eyes flicked over to you, his gaze narrowing in that familiar, assessing way. But you could've sworn there was a slight glimmer in his eye, something you couldn't quite read. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You grinned, not entirely sure what you were saying, but the words felt right. "You're actually kind of... cool, under all that grumpy, 'I hate everyone' thing you have going on."

Aki didn't respond right away. Instead, he just stared at you for a moment, like he was weighing the meaning of your words. You weren't sure if you meant it or not, but there was a certain honesty in the moment that you couldn't ignore.

"You don't know what you're saying," he finally muttered, his voice lower than usual, but not in the usual sarcastic way. He was almost... mellow, in a way you hadn't expected.

For a split second, you considered what he said—how he didn't shrug it off immediately, how his expression hadn't closed back up. It wasn't a compliment, not really, but it was something that almost felt like one.

You shifted awkwardly on your feet. "No, really. You're really cute when you're not being an asshole."

Why did I say that? Why did I say that? Why did I say that?

Oh, my god, You winced the moment the words left your lips. You were astronomically fumbling tonight – a feeling that made your whole face flush when you realized what you had said.

Aki said nothing at first. Instead, he just stared at you, his gaze a little too intense, like he was trying to read you, trying to figure out what the hell was going on in your head. You could feel the weight of his silence, his eyes on you, steady but unreadable.

Your heart was pounding, and all you could think about was how stupid you must have looked. You needed to get away from this, away from him, before you embarrassed yourself even more.

But before you could come up with an excuse to leave, Aki spoke again, voice slow and calculated, the usual bite of sarcasm absent. "Fuck you."

It didn't sound like a harsh retort. It didn't even sound annoyed. It sounded almost... amused. Like he wasn't angry, just a little perplexed by you. And you hated how that single, simple phrase made your heart race. You wanted to get away from the tension building between you two, but the magnetic pull only seemed to draw you closer.

"You'd be a hell of a lot cuter if you just... shut the hell up once in a while," you said, the words slipping out before you could stop them. There was no filter, no hesitation this time, just the raw honesty that came from being tipsy and irritated by how much you'd been holding in all night.

Aki didn't respond at first. His lips barely moved, but you noticed the subtle shift in his expression. Something in his eyes changed, a flicker of something almost... warm? Maybe it was just the alcohol messing with your mind, but you swore you saw it—his usual guardedness faltering, just a little.

You were standing there, staring at him, feeling that rush of warmth in your chest. There was something in the air, something electric and charged. The proximity between you two felt suddenly so close—and it wasn't just the alcohol making your head spin anymore. It was something else, something real.

You wanted to say something else, something to break the silence, but the words got caught in your throat. You could smell him now, that subtle, comforting scent of him that had always been there, but tonight it felt sharper, more intoxicating. His cologne mixed with the warmth of his skin, and it made your thoughts scatter, dizzy and disoriented.

Before you could stop yourself, your body was moving. You weren't sure why, but it was like something inside of you had completely snapped. You wanted him closer, wanted that distance between you erased.

You didn't think. You just acted.

You stumbled toward him, your hand reaching up without hesitation. In one swift movement, you grabbed him by the tie, yanking him down toward you. He was caught off guard for just a second, but his eyes never left yours. You could feel the tension radiating between you as you pulled him closer, your heart pounding in your chest like it was about to break free.

His breath hitched just barely, his body stiffening for the slightest moment, before he relaxed. The shift was subtle, but it was enough for you to notice. The air around you both thickened, the silence stretching between you until it felt suffocating.

Aki didn't speak. He didn't even try to stop you. He just stood there, still and silent, waiting for whatever you were about to do next.

And then, before you could talk yourself out of it, before you could think of all the reasons why this was a bad idea, you kissed him.

a/n: muaaahahaha.... MUAUAAAAAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! OH MY GODDD AGRHJDSBG i fucking loved writing that last part. i know, hate me all u want for blue balling you. yall know i wont keep u waiting too long tho xx. (jk its a slow burn so i will). (at least the romance aspect is. the smutty aspect? maybe not). please please please let me know what yall thought in the comments, i love love love reading everything you guys have to say. seriously. yall have made my whole entire week LMFAOAOAO. im so glad u love this story as much as i do!! new update should be out soon (not as soon as this one was but who knows we'll see bc im an attention whore and u guys fw this story). ily all xx

credits: einruji__ on twitter . I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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