The bar is loud enough to rattle the glass in your hand.

Smoke curls thick beneath flickering neon, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder, laughter too sharp, arguments sharper. Someone’s already bleeding near the dartboard, and no one cares. This place runs on adrenaline and cheap liquor, and tonight it feels even more volatile than usual.

You weren’t supposed to come alone.

The bar is louder than you expected—not just music, but shouting, chairs scraping, the sharp crack of glass somewhere behind you. You keep your shoulders tight, trying to look like you belong, even as your fingers curl around your drink a little too hard.

A hand lands on the counter beside yours suddenly.

Too close.

“Haven’t seen you around,” the stranger slurs. His voice is smooth in a way that makes your stomach twist. He leans in, invading your space without hesitation. “You look lost.”

You offer a polite smile, the kind usually meant to end conversations quickly. “Just waiting for someone.”

“Yeah?” His eyes flick over you, slow and deliberate. “Maybe I can keep you company till they show.”

His eyes drag down your figure, and you immediately wish that you had waited for Sevika to pick you up rather than meet you here.

“I’m okay, thanks.” You angle your body away, trying to create distance, swallowing the bile rising in your throat. The crowd presses tighter behind you, and you mistakenly bump into someone else.

The stranger shifts with you, shrinking the gap again. His elbow plants on the counter, giving you even less room. “C’mon. Don’t be like that.”

“I really am fine,” you say, a little firmer.

He chuckles under his breath, like you’ve said something amusing. “Mhh you sure look fine.”

Your lip curls in disgust, he’s starting to become a problem now.

His fingers tap the bar near your hand, then inch closer. You move your drink away on instinct and he picks up on it, face contorting in morbid pleasure, and the sight makes you even more uneasy.

“Relax,” he drawls. “I’m jus’ talking baby.”

“I’d like to be left alone.”

That should be enough. Usually it is. But you know better.

He leans closer, and you can smell the alcohol on his breath now. “You sure? ‘Cause you walked into the wrong place to be alone.”

Your pulse picks up. You glance toward the bartender—busy. Toward the door—blocked by bodies, and that’s even if he lets you get that far. The music swallows everything.

“I told you, I’m waiting for someone.”

“Yeah?” His smile sharpens. “He sure is taking his sweet time.”

His hand slides onto the counter again, closer to yours, then just barely brushes your sleeve, definitely not by accident. But enough to test what kind of reaction he’ll get out of you.

You jerk your arm back aggressively. “Don’t touch me.”

His expression morphs into anger, but he covers it up quickly. “You’re scared.”

You don’t answer.

The creeps posture shifts, like he’s finally decided something. His hand moves to the back of your stool, fingers curling around it.

“You don’t gotta be,” he says quietly. “I’m not gonna—”

Then the room changes—conversations dip and people nearby begin to whisper. A ripple moves through the crowd, quiet but noticeable. Like pressure dropping before a storm.

Heavy boots approach.

The guy is still too close, his hand braced behind you, when a presence drops into the space beside him. A metal hand plants on the counter with a dull, heavy thud.

“Move the fuck away from her.”

The words are low, sharp enough to cut through the noise of the bar.

The stranger freezes. Slowly, he turns his head —and you watch the color drain from his face as he recognizes who’s standing there. His mouth opens, then closes again, like he’s forgotten how to form words.

“I— I was just—”

Sevika steps closer, and suddenly there’s no space left at all. Her shoulders square, eyes locked on him, expression colder than you’ve ever seen directed at anyone who wasn’t a threat.

“I wasn’t asking,” she seethes.

He lifts his hands a little, palms out. “Hey, relax I didn’t do anything—”

Her mechanical fingers curl into the front of his collar before he can finish. The movement sudden enough to draw a collective hush from the people nearby. She pulls him forward and he stumbles, forced up onto his toes.

“You’re done talking,” she mutters.

His breath catches. “Alright— alright—”

“If I ever catch you anywhere near her again,” Sevika continues, voice quiet, dangerously even, “I won’t bother being polite about it.”

He swallows hard. His hands hover uselessly at her wrist, clearly not daring to try and pry her off. “I didn’t know she was—”

“I don’t care.” Her grip tightens around his neck, enough to make him wince. “You keep your distance. You understand me?”

He nods quickly, trying to gurgle out a response.

You step closer to her, heart racing. “Sevika…” you say softly, touching her arm. “Hey, It’s okay.”

She doesn’t look at you immediately. Her eyes stay fixed on him for one more long second, like she’s deciding whether or not to follow through. You could hear a pin drop, people were staring, but no one dared to step in. They all know better.

“Sevika,” you repeat, gentler. “You can stop he’s not doing anything anymore.”

Her jaw tightens, then she releases him with a small shove. He stumbles back, nearly knocking into someone behind him.

“Go,” she spits flatly.

He doesn’t argue. Just mutters something under his breath and backs away, then turning and disappearing into the crowd as fast as he can manage.

Sevika watches until he’s gone, shoulders still tense, before she finally turns to you. The anger in her expression softens the moment her eyes meet yours.

Her hand settles at your waist, immediately grounding and protective. The same hands that could commit violence were the ones that held you the most gently.

Up close, you can see the immediate concern crowding her features. Her eyes scan your face, your shoulders, the way your hands are still slightly clenched.

“Did he touch you?” she asks lowly.

You shake your head. “No. Just… wouldn’t back off.”

Her jaw ticks. “Yeah. I saw.”

For a moment she doesn’t move, like she’s deciding whether to stay put or get you out of the noise. The crowd presses in again, the music swelling back to full volume, some people still glancing your way.

Her hand finds your wrist then— not rough, just steady. Familiar.

“Come on,” she murmurs.

She doesn’t pull you immediately. She waits until you step closer on your own, then her grip slides to your lower back, guiding instead of dragging. It’s instinctive, protective, but careful—she’s aware she already made enough of a scene.

She leans down slightly so you can hear her. “Let’s get out of the middle.”

You nod, relief settling in now that the adrenaline’s fading. The weight of what just happened starts to hit—how close he’d been, how trapped you felt. You stay close to her side as she steers you through the crowd.

People part automatically. Some stare. Sevika ignores them, her hand hand in your back a lifeline at keeping you present, thumb brushing once in a small, reassuring motion she probably doesn’t even realize she’s doing.

She leads you toward the back hallway where the music dulls into a low thump. The lighting is dimmer here. When the door swings shut behind you, the sudden lack of noise feels almost surreal.

Only then does she turn fully toward you.

Her shoulders drop a fraction, tension finally bleeding out. She reaches up, hesitates for half a second—like she’s checking herself—then cups the side of your face gently.

“You sure you’re okay?” she asks again.

“I’m okay,” you repeat reassuringly, tilting your head to rest against her forehead.

Her eyes don’t leave your face.

“You came alone,” she observes.

It isn’t a question.

You shrug weakly. “I thought I’d find you.”

Her jaw tightens, but her voice stays low. “You don’t walk into places like this without me.”

There’s no anger directed at you—just worry wrapped in something firmer. Before you can answer, she lifts your chin gently between her fingers, tilting your face toward the light. Her thumb brushes just under your eye, like she’s checking for something only she can see.

Satisfied, she exhales quietly and shifts closer, guiding you back a step until your shoulders meet the cool metal wall behind you. She follows, not crowding, just closing the distance enough that the rest of the hallway fades away.

“I don’t like not knowing where you are,” she admits, her hand sliding up your arm, grounding and steady. “Especially here.”

“You came pretty fast though,” you tease gently, trying to ease the last of the tension.

A faint smirk pulls at her mouth. “Yeah.” She dips her head slightly. “I look forward to seeing you all day.”

Her fingers lace with yours, familiar and easy, and she lifts your joined hands, pressing them lightly against her chest. Her heartbeat is slow, controlled, but you can feel the residual adrenaline beneath it.

“Next time,” she murmurs, softer now, “you wait for me… please.”

The vulnerability of the request surprises you, she doesn’t usually ask for things often, but when she does, you’ll be damned if she doesn’t get it.

You tilt your head, studying her, then lean in slowly. Your fingers curl lightly into the front of her shirt, drawing her just a fraction closer. You let the space between you narrow until your lips brush the corner of hers—not quite a kiss, just enough to feel her breath hitch.

“Hmm, Or what?” you murmur against her mouth.

Sevika goes very still. Eyes darkening slightly. She exhales through her nose, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction.

“Or I come find you,” she says quietly. “Same as tonight.”

There’s something steady in the way she says it, not a threatening or impatient, just certain. Like you don’t really have a choice in the matter.

Her thumb brushes your side once, grounding, before she closes the distance and presses a soft, deliberate kiss to your lips.

When she pulls back, it’s just enough that you can still feel the warmth of her breath on your skin.

“Stay with me tonight,” she says suddenly, hopeful. “Upstairs. It’s quieter.”

You glance toward the ceiling—her private room above the chaos, away from wandering eyes and loud music.

“Okay.”

She nods once, relief flickering across her features. Then she presses a slow kiss to your temple, lingering just long enough to steady you both.

“Good.”

When she pulls back, she opens the door, but her hand never leaves you. She keeps you tucked at her side as she guides you toward the stairs, away from the noise, away from the tension, like the world below is something she can shut out simply by keeping you close.

And she doesn’t intend of ever letting you out of her sight again.

a/n: I know this is short, but it’s my first time writing for sevika so I was just testing the waters. as always, feel free to express any of your thoughts, and if you want to be tagged just comment you do:)

It was mid day, some day in late winter. None that anyone would usually consider as notable. The Garrison was filled the way it always was.

The smell of stale beer clung to the wood. Smoke drifted in pale curls beneath the lamps, their amber glow resting low against walls. Glass chimed softly.

Thomas Shelby entered the familiar scene. Despite his unceremonial entrance, the room shifted around him, as it always did. Shoulders straightened, voices lowered, glances slipped over to the man that effortlessly commanded attention.

He carried exhaustion in the lines of his face, a weariness that didn’t belong to him, not usually. Still, he said nothing. He never did.

His eyes moved instead.

They found you behind the bar.

You were new. He knew that much. Someone had mentioned it in passing, between meetings and horses and stacks of pounds. He hadn’t listened fully, mind with more important things.

But now… 

Now you stood in the warm glow of a hanging lamp, wiping down a glass, the light caught in your hair like dust in gold. You moved with precision, aware of every patron, every call, every clink of crystal. There was something about you that… irritated his memory. Itched a spot in the back of his head that he hadn’t thought about in a while. Or at least pretended he hadn’t.

Grace.

He approached the counter, the wood cool beneath his knuckles as he tapped it once to catch your attention.

You looked up.

“What would I have to do to know your name, lass?” he spoke.

Mr. Shelby.

You had heard of him long before you ever set foot behind this bar. Everyone had. Warnings, whispers, don’t anger him, don’t stare, don’t ask questions.

You adjusted your apron, smoothing it down with nervous fingers. Your hair slipped over your shoulders as you lifted your chin, eyes bright despite the slight bit of nervousness that made your heart beat faster in your chest.

“I am Y/N…” you said gently, your sweet smile decorating your lips. “Y/N L/N.”

Thomas studied you in silence.

There was naïveté there. In the way you smiled. In the way you met his gaze without knowing what it meant to hold it. An angel’s face.

“Y/N,” he repeated, slow. Testing the shape of it.

“A pretty name for a pretty girl.” His gaze lingered on you, unapologetic. Taking in the curve of your waist, the line of your shoulders. You felt heat crawl up your neck.

“Thank you, Mr. Shelby.” you nodded, clearing your throat. “Can I get you something to drink?”

A man down the bar raised two fingers, gesturing that he would like to ask for another drink. You nodded to him automatically. You were good at this, aware, efficient, anything one could ask of a good waitress.

Thomas noticed.

“Whiskey,” he just said.

You nodded and turned to prepare it. Behind you, he slipped into the private room where Arthur already sat, newspaper spread wide across the table.

Moments later, you knocked.

“Your whiskey, Mr. Shelby.” you called from outside, creaking the door open gently.

Thomas sat beneath the low lamp, cigarette between his fingers. Arthur glanced up first, then Thomas. His eyes found you again, slow as before.

“Come in.”

You stepped inside, placing the glass in front of him. He took it, sipped, never once breaking eye contact.

“Can I bring you anything else?” you asked politely, eager to make a good impression.

Arthur, who had been watching the exchange with a raised eyebrow and his brother's reaction, leaned back with a knowing smirk. “Ohhh.”

“No,” Thomas said without acknowledging Arthur’s comment. “But you’ll stay.”

His voice was low, firm, not quite an order but close enough to make it clear you weren’t leaving unless he dismissed you.

“Mr. Shelby, I really should get back to-” you said, clutching the empty tray to your chest.

“Y/N!” the barman called for you, “Hurry up!”

Thomas’s jaw tightened, “Let the others handle it.”

Arthur coughed into his fist to hide a laugh.

You hesitated, but reluctantly nodded, there was no arguing with the Thomas Shelby, at least not from what you knew about him. “Yes, Mr. Shelby.”

“Sit.”

You obeyed, sitting in one of the empty chairs, folding your hands neatly in your lap. Thomas’s eyes followed the motion, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes at your compliance. He took another slow, contemplative sip of his whiskey, studying you.

Arthur was grinning openly now.

“How old are you, lass?” Thomas asked.

“Twenty-four, sir.” you answered properly with a polite smile. 

Too young.

Arthur couldn’t resist a comment, “Bit young, innit, Tommy?”

You blinked in slight confusion, “Too young to be a waitress?”

Thomas and Arthur exchanged a quick glance, before Arthur burst out laughing.

Thomas kept his composure, clearing his throat. “No. Too young compared to us.” He pointed between himself and his brother without taking his eyes off you.

“Is that an issue?” you asked softly. This job was all you had now, so losing it was nothing you were looking forward to, especially during your first week.

Thomas continued to study you. Your expression, choice of words, politeness. The innocence in your voice was almost cruel. “You don’t understand, do you?”

“I don’t think I do, Mr. Shelby.”

He sighed, dragging a hand through his hair before he gestured with the other, cigarette between two fingers. “It’s… experience. Maturity.” You nodded, “I see…” you hummed, “If you’re asking if I’m married or promised, I’m neither.” you explained.

Thomas took another gulp of whiskey, quiet not, while Arther was clearly struggling to keep his mouth shut.

Thomas shot him a slight glare, knowing his brother, it was guaranteed that nothing good would come out of that mouth. He turned his attention back to you, “You’ve... had lovers?” he grunted, the question slipping out before he could stop himself.

You felt your cheeks heat up a bit, a rosy blush creeping at the side of your face, as you stood up promptly “I… I fail to see how that’s relevant to my job.” you said in flustered protest.

“Y/N!” came the call again, fortunately for you.

You opened the door, “It was nice talking to you, Mr. Shelby.”

Then you were gone.

Thomas cursed silently as you walked away, his mind feeling strangely foggy from the short interaction.

Arthur, on the other hand, chuckled heartily when the door closed behind you, “Smooth, brother!”

Kite slid his arms around your waist and pulled you against his chest while you finished readying yourself in the mirror. You grinned and shook your head at all his comments while you smoothed out your clothes and accessories, finally settling your hands on top of his. You weren’t dressing too fancy, but just enough to look respectable in public. Kite didn’t change his clothing choice much either, having added a simple black jacket to his usual outfit and abandoning his signature blue  hat. Simplicity was sometimes all that was needed to look good, and damn did the two of you look good together. 

“Mind if I take a picture of us like this before we go? You look pretty sleek and modern now~” You asked. 

“Sure. Go ahead.” He smiled.

You were excited to finally get a nice picture of you two together. It wasn’t often you got to take a picture of him with you, so you were happy to finally have a shot to admire later on of you two standing so close in the mirror. Once you got it, you made sure to put it in a folder labeled ‘most handsome man <3’ in your phone, flashing the title at him. 

“Are all your folders in your gallery labeled something like that?” He asked, getting a little flustered. “And even moreso, how many photos of me do you have in there…”

“Mmm, not many. I don’t like to invade your privacy, but there’s a few nice candids I’ve taken while you’re home.” You hummed, showing him the folder contents. “You have a lovely side profile~. I look through these when you’re gone for long periods of time.”

“Only you.” He chuckled. “Well, shall we go then? The cab will be here soon.”

“We shall indeed.”

Kite kept an arm around you and snuck in a kiss to your cheek as you left his home together, meeting a cab at the pickup location. The club was off in a nearby city, and you were excited to see a fresh new establishment in the nightlife scene. It wasn’t often a new place like this popped up. The drive itself wasn’t too long either, allowing your night to get started early on.

Upon arrival, you were greeted with a large neon sign mounted above a set of stairs that said ‘Neon Nights’, advertising the location clearly. You and Kite descended these stairs down what you would consider two floors into a basement complex pulsing music already audible from outside the doors. Before you went inside, Kite put in some earplugs to save his hearing from any damage, very much cherishing it for the purpose of his work. A smart decision, as when you were let inside the wall of sound you were met with could’ve knocked you over truthfully. 

 Both of you were met with black lights, neon lights, and the most glorious looking bar you’d ever seen in the center of the place. It had at least six bartenders working the counter, while private booths lined the edges of the room with a massive stage on the back wall for music performances and DJing. This definitely wasn’t Kite’s scene at all, but oddly enough, being in here with you made it alright. The music wasn’t bad, and the occupancy was only at half capacity. Room to move around made it much more inviting.

You guided him through the bar, entranced by all the lighting. Yes you loved the outdoors, but every once in a while you enjoyed the flickering lights of modern city life. It was a nice treat. Descending a few more steps you brought Kite over to the bar and sat down at it with him on the least occupied side. It made you comfier to be there, especially considering the amount of eyes you could feel both on you and Kite. 

“It’s not bad here so far. I think my only issue is the way that all these women are eyeing you like a piece of candy.” You complained to him, leaning in close so he could hear you. 

“Hmm, by proxy my issue is the men in here as well then. I’ve never seen so many sets of eyes on you at once. Your makeup really makes you stand out in this setting, love. You are quite the spectacle.” He complimented, panning his vision across the bar around you. 

“People are looking at me?” You paused, and followed his gaze. “Oh damn. You’re right. They’re… looking at us. Intently.”

“It seems we’ve entered a bar filled with jealous singles. What a shame.” He chuckled, touching his shoulder to yours. 

“Hah. I guess I have no reason to be upset then. I mean, you’re positively glowing yourself.”

You gestured to him and the fact that he was lit up intensely because of his white shirt and hair. Despite being on the side of the bar that had less black lighting around, it still picked up on his form quite well. It was pretty magical looking, and suddenly you were grateful all over again for being partners with someone as gorgeous as he was. A little smirk rose on your face, and Kite caught sight of it. 

“What’s got you smiling?” He asked with a smile of his own. 

“Ah, nothing. Just thinkin’ about how lucky I am that you’re mine~”

“Who’s the sap now, huh?”

Both of you laughed at yourselves for a moment, enjoying the atmosphere and the inherent cheesiness of your conversation. It really was nice to go out with him somewhere for a change, even if it did differ from the usual sorts of places you’d go together. While you chatted for a bit, you waited for one of the bartenders to notice the two of you to make your drink order. Unfortunately, the other side of the bar seemed to be a little busier than anticipated which drew the attention away from you. Looks like you’d be chasing down your first drink of the night.

You told Kite you were going to hunt down a bartender for a drink, offering to get him one too. He declined, wanting to sit a bit longer before he drank anything. With a nod you slid off your stool and wandered over to the nearest bartender to wave down their attention. Unfortunately, while you were trying to attract the attention of one person, you ended up drawing in attention from other individuals; and it was the unwanted kind. 

When the bartender set your drink down in front of you, another patron came up way too close to you, disturbing your peace. He made advances on you right from the get go, trying to reach over to you and talk to you crudely. You covered your drink with your hand within seconds, and he took offense to that. 

“Already covering your drink bitch? Damn, don’t trust anyone do ya?” The man scoffed. 

“You’re incredibly bad at hiding that powder pinched between your fingers, fuckhead. Try another method or be more inconspicuous.” You retorted, turning with your glass in hand. 

“... I always have another method, dumb bitch.” He spoke under his breath. 

With your back turned, the man revealed a needle he had been concealing from you much better than the drug between his fingers. All it would take was one good jab to the side of your arm and you’d be drugged up to the nines for his pleasure to take. He was almost there, mere centimeters from touching your skin with the tip of the needle. Apparently though, he was unaware that you did not come alone despite how positively glowing you were as a couple. 

A cry of pain so loud erupted even the DJ turned down the music to see what was going on, all eyes now in the scene at the center bar. The needle aimed for your skin had ended up on the floor, and the man’s wrist was bent up and backwards, definitely broken. The reason? Kite held it bent back so far, bone could be seen nearly poking out of the skin. He looked sublime under the full front of neon lighting, platinum locks glistening to make him look elegant despite the cold stare he cast down at the man now crying in pain. You had slowly turned to see what had nearly been your end, rather impressed with Kite’s speed to have caught that before you were compromised. 

“I suggest you leave. This wrist won't heal well if you linger any longer.” Kite said coldly.

Whimpering pathetically, the man begged to be let go. Kite complied of course, only because security was now behind him. He’d be freed from another wrist snap, but not the impending consequences he just earned. His pathetic self was escorted out of the establishment, and once he was gone, Kite turned to face you and ease your shocked expression. 

“Come. Sit again. I apologize for causing a scene.” He spoke softly to you as if he had never used a bitter tone in his life. 

Nodding, you sat with him again, and within seconds he had your stool knocked up against his, an arm around your waist to keep you close. This admittedly flustered you, not used to such bold displays of affection in public. The women around cast jealous glances, while the men looked on in fear. No one would be screwing with you again it seemed. A name had just been made for the two of you. 

“Love, do you deal with people like that every time you go out?” Kite suddenly asked, his gaze still panning across suspicious characters in the bar. 

“Not all the time, but… It does happen from time to time. I’ve managed to escape drugging so far.” You nodded. 

“The fact that this happens at all is sad. What if… I didn't come tonight? You weren’t aware of that needle he held.”

“I suppose that is concerning. I… Don’t know.” You sighed. “I promise it doesn’t happen very often. Please don’t be too worried every time I go out…”

“Oh no, I trust you _____. I just no longer trust this establishment. My gut feeling was right.” He said. “Just promise me this one thing: if you ever come back to this place specifically, bring me with you. Tell me, and I’ll spend the evening with you.”

“Is that all?” You chuckled, sipping at your drink. “Well gee, I think that’s something I can handle doing. I wouldn’t mind your company a little more often.” 

“Hah, it seems we’ve also managed to establish ourselves here as well. Not one single person is left in this bar that hasn’t stared at us for an extended period of time.” He hummed, squeezing your side a little.

“We’ve definitely made ourselves out to be a power couple here.” You snorted. 

“Good. You are very much taken and everyone should know that neither you or I are an option for them.” He spoke in a lower tone, leaning in close and catching you off guard with a kiss. 

Your eyes widened, shocked by his boldness. You couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed you in a setting with this many people. It was a hungry kiss, stealing your breath away and darkening your cheeks a deep rose colour. Even his eyes were needy, gazing at you when he pulled back even though you were only inches apart. 

“Mmm, that drink you got is quite good. Let me have a sip.” He then said playfully, stealing your glass and taking a swig. 

“H-hey! C’mon Kite!” You stammered, still quite shocked. 

He laughed at you, ever amused by your flustered expression. “My bad~. Here, let me make it up to you. I mean, out with you.”

Never before had he been so playful with you. He kissed you again, a good amount of liquor tainting his lips enough for you to taste it. It was pleasant, and you loved the attention you were getting from him, but it was the attention of others that you were worried about. When he parted from you again you gave him a nervous glance, still quite flustered, and honestly concerned for his own comfort more than yours. 

“K-Kite, you don’t have to force yourself to kiss me in public. I-I know PDA isn’t your thing…” You spoke nervously. 

“Not usually… But right now, everyone in this bar should know you’re mine, and realize their chances of getting near you are next to nothing.” He hummed, planting a gentle kiss on your forehead.

You nearly swooned. It was rather unexpected for him to be unaffected by the idea of PDA, let alone taking part in it with you. That made you feel really special. Since he had no concerns himself, all yours melted away as you leaned back into his form and allowed his embrace to mark you as his. The chances of someone else trying to interfere with your night had been all but smothered. You were a glowing couple, both literally and figuratively, delighted to be in his presence. 

“Geez, talk about being my neon angel.” You huffed, averting your eyes. 

“Let’s enjoy the rest of our night, love. We have plenty more we can do tonight.”

“Whatever you say, hun. You’ve got my heart and everything else right now.” You replied, your tone oozing adoration as your gaze returned to him.

A coldhearted jackass is what he is.

For someone who holds all the power of the red clan, Suoh Mikoto is a cold bastard.

You first saw him on the street one afternoon. He was sitting on a park bench in the sweltering heat, lazily smoking a cigarette. The man seemed deadly, so you put your head down and kept walking. Thankfully he didn’t notice you, too lost in his own thoughts.

The next time you saw him was when you started hanging around bar Homra after you discovered that the owner and bartender was such a suave and charming man. He told you about the red clan, about their king, and about their powers. It all seemed like fantasy to you, but when you came eye to eye with the infamous Red King, you knew it wasn’t a lie.

For some reason, you feel tied to him. It feels like a cord connects the two of you. A bright red cord that’s always slack and tangled in more ways than one. He’s always around, always cold, and always indifferent.

Compared to Suoh Mikoto, Kusanagi Izumo is a man who can easily sweep you off of your feet. While you typically hate when bartenders flirt with you, it’s different when it’s him. Drinking at his bar is usually pleasant, even with the roughhousing that goes on with some of the Homra members.

You let out a small chuckle as Kusanagi kicks them out, yelling about how they’re disturbing the peace of a beautiful young woman who’s just trying to enjoy a drink. Your peace isn’t disturbed; far from it. The handsome man makes his way back inside apologizing profusely.

“It’s quite alright Kusanagi-san!” you tell him, “I think they’re funny.”

“They’re not funny when they’re damaging my bar,” he replies.

You chuckle again, your laugh light and airy. Kusanagi smiles at you, offering a refill on your drink. You’re about to deny him when he insists it’s on the house.

“Well, if it’s free, then I can’t say ‘no’ can I?” you smile sweetly at him.

He sends a wink in your direction. “Another martini coming right up, mademoiselle!”

You watch him work, skillfully pouring different alcohol into the shaker. He shakes it vigorously, chilling the liquid over ice and mixing the contents well. He pours the liquid into a fresh glass that has been chilled to perfection. You take a sip of it, and as always, it’s perfect and to your liking.

You amiably chat with him about how your day went, happy to oblige him in the small details of your life. Really you hope he’ll just ask you out one of these days. Dating a handsome man like Kusanagi who also has ties to a powerful clan wouldn’t be so bad.

Your giddiness at the thought dies rather quickly when a familiar red-haired man saunters down the stairs. He takes a seat right next to you, lighting a cigarette and resting his arms on the bar counter. You huff, taking a long sip of your drink. You’re definitely going to need another if he’s going to be here.

“Ah, King, did you have a nice nap?”

A younger man with sandy-colored hair approaches the bar. You recall his name, Totsuka Tatara. He takes a seat on the other side of the red king who simply huffs in response. 

“It’s too noisy down here,” he states.

“But King can sleep through anything!” the young man responds.

The red king takes a simple drag of his cigarette, humming in response.

“Not a man of many words, huh?” you mumble into your drink.

Kusanagi smiles awkwardly, but Totsuka lets out a small laugh. Suoh doesn’t find it funny; tilting his head and looking at you. You peer at him from over your glass as you take another sip.

“Who are you?” he asks.

“She’s one of Kusanagi-san’s regulars!” Tosuka chimes in.

“Huh? I don’t recognize her.”

Suoh looks away again, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

“You’ve definitely met me before,” you tell him.

“If you say so,” he says nonchalantly.

He exhales a large puff of smoke before putting out his cigarette. He stands; shoving his hands in his pockets, then walks out of the bar. The smoke dissipates around you as he leaves. You’re thankful he’s gone, but your mood has turned sour.

“Don’t mind him,” Totsuka says to you, “he may not seem like it, but Mikoto is really great! That’s why he’s our king.”

As much as you hate talking about Suoh, Totsuka’s smile is contagious and before you know it, you catch yourself smiling in response. 

“Sorry about that,” Kusanagi apologizes.

“It’s ok, Kusanagi-san,” you respond while finishing off your glass.

“How about just one more on the house to make it up to you. I’ll surprise you this time,” he adds with a wink.

You swoon internally. 

“Well, if you insist.”

Your words are already slurring. It’s not that you’re a lightweight, but Kusanagi’s presence is more intoxicating than the alcohol. He mixes another drink, pouring it over ice and serving you. You take a sip of the liquid, it’s not bad, and different from what you usually order.

“I like it,” you tell him, smiling playfully at him.

He smiles back, his usually charming grin, and your conversation once again picks up. A few of the Homra men come into the bar loudly, pulling Totsuka away with them. You and Kusanagi are left alone after some time. It’s now getting pretty late and you’re almost finished with your drink.

“I should head out,” you tell him, grabbing your bag to leave.

“You had a lot to drink, I could get one of the boys to walk you home?”

Your heart twinges that Kusanagi doesn’t offer for himself to take you home, but you understand he still has his bar to run. You thank him for the offer right as Suoh walks back in from his venture.

“Oh you’re still here,” he says, taking a seat at the bar.

“Actually, I was just leaving.”

“That’s too bad.”

“Mikoto, do you mind walking her home for me?” Kusanagi asks.

You’re about to protest when you hear Suoh respond.

“Sure,” he says.

“Actually, I’m ok to walk home myself. I wouldn’t want to bother the Red King,” you say, grabbing your jacket and slinging it over your shoulders.

“It’s really dangerous for such a fine young woman to be walking home alone,” Kusanagi says.

“If she doesn’t want me to, then I won’t,” Suoh tells him.

You inwardly sigh, thankful at his own reluctance. However, that relief changes when he speaks up again.

“Unless, she’s just being stubborn,” he adds.

It’s then that you catch the smirk playing on his lips. The bastard is teasing you. He’s right though, you are stubborn, but not in the way he expects.

“Fine, then walk me home,” you demand, tilting your nose in the air slightly.

He gets up without question and walks out of the bar, not even waiting for you. You thank Kusanagi, who gives you one last charming smile as you hurry to catch up to Suoh.

“Usually an escort would wait for the person they're escorting,” you huff.

He doesn’t respond, simply pulling out a cigarette. He holds the pack out to you, offering you one. You hold your hand up to decline it.

“I don’t smoke.”

He shrugs and pockets the pack of cigarettes. With a flick of his finger, he uses the flames from his power to light the cigarette. The red aura catches your eye as you watch him. You’ve never seen them use their powers before, but it really was something to behold. Even something as simple as that tiny flame was enough to bewitch you for a moment.

“What?” Suoh asks, pulling you out of your musings.

“Nothing,” you respond.

The two of you walk in silence until you get back to your apartment.

“This is it,” you tell him.

“What? No 'thank you'? You’re a cold woman,” he says, then he leans in close to your ear, lowering his voice. “Maybe you need someone to warm you up.”

You can’t help but bark a laugh at his audacity. 

“Are you suggesting yourself?”

“Well, I’m certainly not suggesting one of my boys.”

“Like hell, I’d let you be the one to ‘warm me up’!”

“Fine, if that’s your wish,” he states before turning to walk away.

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“Well I know when I’m not wanted, so why bother? It’s just a pain in the ass.”

“You’re a pain in the ass!” you retort.

“That’s clever, do you have anything else?”

His voice is dripping in sarcasm. You step closer to him, swinging your arm to smack him in response, but he catches your hand. His hand is warm, you can feel the heat radiating through your jacket sleeve. You know you fucked up, but you still stand your ground. He steps closer to you, then leans down to say something in your ear.

“If you wanted to touch me so badly, then why didn’t you just ask?”

His voice is sultry and deep, and despite how much you loathe him, you have to admit how sexy he is towering over you right now. He could easily overpower you, forgo his powers. The aura radiating off of him is menacing.

“I hate women like you,” he seethes, “you’re always bothersome.” 

He drops your hand and begins walking away. Leaving you standing alone outside of your apartment as you watch his tall figure disappear into the darkness.

You really hate Suoh Mikoto.

★・・・・・・★・・・★・・・★・・・・・・★

“Mikoto, did something happen the other day?” Kusanagi asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Mikoto exhales a cloud of smoke in the general direction of the bartender. He’s been sleeping even more recently. The incident played on loop, even in his dreams. He thought that some teasing would get you to lighten up, but instead, you reacted unjustly, in his mind. He doesn’t know what he did to cause such hatred from you, granted, he only just realized who you are a few days ago. He’s seen you around, sure, but to him, you’re just another customer passing through. Your constant flirting with Kusanagi is bearable, but he’s milking it to keep you coming back.

Truth be told, he understands why. You’re incredibly attractive, even with your bad attitude. He’s not one to judge someone like that either, considering he knows he’s pretty rough around the edges too. The way you treated him with disrespect though, wasn’t something he cared for at all.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Kusanagi scolds.

Mikoto looks away, avoiding the judgmental gaze coming from his slightly older friend. The more he thought about how much you irritated him, the worse he felt, and the more he couldn’t get you out of his head. It was starting to drive him mad, his irritation becoming evident even to his boys.

He stands and slinks out of the bar, shoving his hands in his pockets. Fresh air won’t cool him off, but being out of the bar might clear his head a bit.

Mikoto walks along the pavement, the cool autumn air doesn’t even chill his skin. He muses on his ties to you. You’re only around because you like to flirt with Kusanagi, that much is evident. He knows he’s seen you here and there, but now he truly recognizes you, and since then he's been unable not to notice you.

Even now, as he’s walking, a fleeting figure catches his eye. It’s you again, making your way into a dingy bar. He’s familiar with this spot, it’s known for gang activity. Mikoto crosses the street, watching another man follow you inside. 

He’s conflicted on whether or not to go inside. He leans against the building, lighting another cigarette.

★・・・・・・★・・・★・・・★・・・・・・★

Days pass and you can’t get the encounter out of your head. He was playing cat and mouse with you. Taunting you, wanting to see you give in to his whims, but you stood your ground adamantly. You hated it, and you hate him. You haven’t even been able to step foot in Kusanagi’s bar. You feel horrible, wanting to go back just to see him, but also fearing running into Suoh.

Instead, you’ve taken to drinking at a different bar. This one is dark and the atmosphere is clouded in smoke. It’s nowhere near as nice as Bar Homra, but at least you won’t run into Suoh here. 

You’re drinking casually, and the loud music and smoke are clogging your mind already. You notice someone taking a seat next to you. He also smells like cigarettes, but it’s hard to distinguish the particular smell from the atmosphere. You take another sip of your drink, your musings interrupted by the presence of someone so close to you.

“Hey babe, whatcha doin’ drinking alone?” he says, “how ‘bout I buy you another drink and I can keep you company.”

“No,” you respond shortly.

“C’mon doll, you definitely look like you could use some company.”

“You look like you could shut the fuck up.”

“Fiery temper huh? I don’t mind, I like ‘em a little hot.”

With that, you down the rest of your drink, not wanting to be there anymore. Running into Suoh at Bar Homra might not be so bad compared to this asshole. Standing to promptly walk past the man, he follows you out anyway.

“Let me walk you home, babe. It’s dangerous out here,” he says.

“Leave me alone.”

“C’mon babe,” he says, reaching out to grab you.

Suddenly, a body steps right in front of you, and you nearly walk into him. You hear the man behind you curse. You follow your gaze up the slender torso to see a familiar red mane. Suoh had grabbed the man’s hand and used his aura to burn him. The man lets out a pained yell as Suoh releases his arm. He cradles it to his chest, stumbling as he runs away.

“What the fuck?!” you exclaim.

“What? Is that the way to thank your savior?”

“I was fine on my own!” you exclaim stubbornly.

“Fine, next time I won’t help then,” he says as he reaches into his pocket to stick a cigarette between his lips.

“Why are you following me?”

“Why the hell do you think I would be following you?”

“I don’t know, maybe to fuck me or something!” you exclaim.

He pauses, peering at you through the smoke circulating in his vision.

“Why do you think I would want to fuck you? What exactly, is it about your ungrateful ass that you think is so fuckable?” He takes a long drag of his cigarette before continuing. “If anything, I think you want to fuck me.”

“HA!,” you bark, “and the same question goes for you. What makes you think you’re so fuckable?!”

“I don’t.”

You blink at him in confusion, “Huh?”

“I don’t think I’m ‘so fuckable’. I think you just want to fuck me,” he says, blowing smoke into your face, making you cough.

“Absolutely not,” you manage to say between coughs.

“Really?”

Suoh moves quickly and before you can blink, he slaps his hand against the brick wall of the building behind you. He has you trapped under his tall frame. Even in the dim lighting from the street lamp, you can see his muscles flex under his fitted white shirt. You don’t back down, staring intently into his hazel eyes. You catch the way the corner of his mouth twitches upwards in a smirk.

“You’re telling me, that you don’t want me to fuck you right here, right now?” he says, “I bet I can fuck all that hate out of you.”

You’re about to protest when he leans down, lips grazing the shell of your ear as he speaks. “Wrath is a deadly sin after all.”

You feel chills creep up your spine as his hot breath tickles your ear. Your thighs clench and you feel the need to satiate a pressure growing between your legs. You press your palm to his toned chest, pushing him off of you. He easily relents and you use the momentum to switch your positions, pressing his pack firmly to the wall with your fist entangled in his shirt. His expression doesn’t change, eyeing you to see what your next move is.

“You want to fuck me so badly Suoh? That’s why you act so indifferent around me? Not bothering to greet me at the bar, pretending you don’t know me, or maybe you just don’t care enough to notice me,” you huff, “fine. I’ll fuck you. I’ll fuck you so good you’ll never forget me. I’ll have you crawling back for more every time.”

Suoh’s smirk grows wider as he flicks the remaining stick of his cigarette on the ground, stomping the smoldering butt out. He grabs your face in his hands and smashes his lips to yours. You kiss him back just as eagerly. You hate to admit it, but he’s a damn good kisser. His lips move against yours with great skill. He must’ve kissed many women before, and for a second, you think he might be more experienced than you.

You shove the insecure thought quickly from your mind, focusing on the heat radiating from Suoh’s body. His hands run down the length of your torso, making their way to your ass. He squeezes harshly, molding the flesh in his hands. You press your breasts up against his lean chest giving him a good feel of your body. As he continues his ministrations, you move your focus to his neck. His skin is still beautifully tanned from summer, and you suck a dark purple mark on his skin. When he realizes what you’re doing, he pulls you off of him.

“I didn’t say you could mark me up,” he growls.

Suoh shoves his leg between your own, his hands on your ass forcing you to grind your sex down on his thigh. You gasp at the sudden friction.

“Fuck!”

The word escapes your lips before you can even think to control it. His lips are back on yours in an instant and you hate how needy you feel. You feel like you have to do something to get the upper hand, so you slide your hands under his shirt, feeling up his toned stomach to his chest. When you find what you're looking for, you pinch the little buds between your fingertips earning you a curse of his own.

Smiling into his mouth that you won that round, Suoh halts all of his actions and roughly grabs your arm from under his shirt.

“What are you—”

You’re cut off by him dragging you further down the street and into a dark alley. The place is creepy, but you’re less likely to be spotted by passersby. He quickly shoves you against the cold exterior of the building as his hands make their way to your breasts. His mouth crashes down onto yours again, roughly matching the ferocity that he’s fondling you with. Tongue deep in your mouth as you grab his ass and push his clothed dick against your core, grinding yourself against him.

You moan into his mouth, one hand trailing up his back to grab a handful of his red hair.

“Tell me how bad you need my cock,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You whine for him, but don’t give in to his game.

“Only as bad as you need to be in my pussy right now,” you retort.

He smirks, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and gently biting down. The world slows for a second before he pulls away. He’s watching you intently, eyes ablaze, as you huff to catch your breath. Your face is hot and your whole body is warm. Your sex feels like it’s on fire.

The cord between you two tightens and you feel the bubbling desire fill your chest. You hate him with every fiber of your being, but you’re living for the way he drinks you up with his eyes. 

★・・・・・・★・・・★・・・★・・・・・・★

Mikoto pulls away, taking a moment to admire his handiwork. You’re panting under him, and the pride he feels at seeing you in this state and knowing he’s the reason why is sweeter than any wine. He feels the pull toward you, but he resists. It’s been so long since he felt the familiar tension of the strain in his pants. The tightness is almost unbearable, but he can bear it enough if it means getting to see you riled up like this again.

A wry smile crosses his face. Mikoto reaches into his leather jacket, pulling out another cigarette. He lights it with a flick of his wrist and he catches the reflection of the small flame of his aura in your eyes. He steps away, taking a drag of his cigarette and watching the slew of emotions cross your features.

A short, low laugh rumbles in his throat as he begins to walk away. It doesn’t take long for you to scramble after him, demanding answers.

“You asked how bad I wanted to be in your pussy. Guess it’s not that bad,” he says.

He’s a liar, and he knows you’ll catch him. Right now, he’s content with continuing his little game with you. Truth is, he’s not ready to release that sweet tension yet.

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