seeds of mistrust
pairing: aki hayakawa x reader
genre: angst, domestic drama, humor, misunderstanding, slice of life
warnings: themes of mistrust and jealousy, strong language, emotional tension
synopsis: small, unexplained things start to appear in your shared space with aki and slowly, doubt begins to eat away at your trust in each other.
ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚. ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○
the first seed of doubt planted itself in your chest on a tuesday night, quiet and unsuspecting, when you were cleaning underneath the bed you and aki shared. your hand brushed against something cold and metallic, and when you pulled it out into the light, it was a silver hoop earring.
your brows knit together instantly. it wasn’t yours—at least you didn’t think so. you didn’t own hoops that small, nor did you ever remember losing an earring in the bedroom. the weight of it in your hand suddenly felt heavier than it should have, like some strange foreign object dropped into the middle of your relationship.
you sat there on the floor for a long minute, staring at it like it might explain itself. the longer you looked, the more the questions started piling in your head. who did it belong to? why was it here? had someone been in your room? had someone been in your bed?
aki was in the shower then, the sound of water muffled through the bathroom door, and for the briefest moment your chest tightened so hard it was difficult to breathe.
you thought about asking him—holding it up when he walked out, dripping wet with a towel slung low around his waist, maybe catching the flicker of guilt in his face if it was there—but you didn’t. instead, you set it quietly on your nightstand, turned off the lamp, and climbed into bed with a lump in your throat.
you told yourself it was nothing, just some strange coincidence, but the paranoia clawed at the back of your mind. even as aki came to bed minutes later, pressing a soft kiss to your hair, you forced yourself to relax, even though your chest still burned with unease. still, the earring lingered like a splinter, festering in the silence.
it wasn’t long after that when the second seed sprouted, this time in aki’s chest. he was digging around in your car one morning, searching with his usual sharp focus for a lighter you always kept in the glove compartment.
when he popped it open, his eyes caught on a small silver packet shoved in the corner. his hand reached in and pulled it out slowly—condoms.
his brows furrowed instantly, confusion flashing across his face, then giving way to something darker. his fingers tightened around the packet, knuckles blanching white as he stared at it.
they didn’t use condoms—not anymore. not in a very long time. there was a trust, an intimacy in that choice, something sacred he thought belonged to just the two of you.
so why were they here?
aki’s jaw locked tight, lips pressed thin as the silence in the car grew heavier. he closed the glove compartment a little too hard, the slam echoing like a gavel, sealing the weight of the discovery.
he slipped the packet into his pocket like evidence, his stomach twisting with suspicion.
he said nothing when you came back to the car, nothing when you smiled and asked if he found the lighter, your eyes soft and trusting in a way that suddenly made his chest ache.
he just nodded once, shoved his hands into his coat pockets, and leaned back in his seat with a tension that bled into the air. silence followed him the whole day, stretching taut, a silence you noticed but didn’t dare question—just as he didn’t question you about what he’d found.
the third strike came weeks later, when the weight of doubt was already pressing cracks into both of you. you were searching for your phone charger, reaching between the narrow crevice of the bed and the drawer beside it, when your fingers closed around something unfamiliar.
you tugged it out—a crumpled tube of lipstick.
your breath caught instantly. it wasn’t yours. the color was too dark, too bold for anything you owned, like a scarlet mark of someone else’s presence. your lips parted as you stared down at it, the tension of the last few weeks suddenly coiling around your chest so tightly your heartbeat pounded in your ears.
the earring. the lipstick. the creeping silence of aki’s gaze when he thought you weren’t looking. it all stacked together, threatening to collapse on top of you.
you could no longer write it off as coincidence.
so when aki walked into the room, shrugging off his coat, you didn’t waste a second.
“aki,” you said, holding up the lipstick, your voice sharper than you intended. “what the hell is this?”
his eyes flicked to the item in your hand, and immediately his posture stiffened, like a soldier caught off guard.
“that’s what i should be asking you,” he countered, voice low and tight, the simmer beneath it ready to boil over. his hand slid into his pocket, pulling out the silver condom wrapper he’d been keeping like a hidden weapon. he tossed it on the bed between you with a cold flick of his wrist. “what’s this doing in your car? we don’t use these.”
your eyes widened at the sight of it, your pulse jumping. “what? i don’t—aki, i swear, that’s not mine. i never—”
“and you think the earring was mine?” his voice cracked sharp now, tension and suspicion bubbling over like sparks to dry wood. “you find things that don’t belong to you and just ignore them, but the second i do the same, i’m the one at fault?”
“don’t twist this on me! i don’t wear this lipstick, aki! i don’t even own this shade—” your voice raised, matching his, the desperation spilling out in ragged tones.
“then whose is it?” he shot back, his hair falling into his eyes as his chest rose and fell with sharp, uneven breaths. “because i don’t know, and i’m not stupid enough to believe it just appeared out of nowhere.”
the room was thick with unspoken accusations, both your chests heaving, both your eyes sharp and wild with doubt, the air between you getting harder to breathe in.
and then, like a record scratch, denji’s voice cut through the tension.
“ohhh, shit. that’s me,” denji said from the doorway, scratching the back of his head like he’d just remembered something trivial—completely oblivious to the storm he’d just walked into.
you and aki both snapped your heads toward him. “what?” you shouted in unison, the word ripping out of you like a demand for survival.
denji stepped in casually, pointing first at the lipstick in your hand. “yeah, that’s power’s. she dropped it when we were messing around in here the other day. she was trying to prove she could climb up on the dresser faster than me, but then she fell and her crap went flying everywhere. i guess some of it got stuck in the bed.”
“the earring too?” you asked, disbelief sharp and trembling in your tone.
“yeah, hers too. you think aki would be caught dead wearing an earring like that?” denji snorted, then dug his finger in his ear like he hadn’t just dismantled the fabric of your relationship with a single explanation. “please.”
aki’s brows drew tighter, though some of the fire in his face flickered into reluctant consideration. “and the condoms?”
denji’s face broke into a grin, smug and mischievous. “ohhh, those were mine. i was sitting in your car the other day waiting for you to grab something from the store. power dared me to buy some just to mess with the cashier. i shoved them in the glove box after ‘cause she wouldn’t stop laughing about it. didn’t even use them.”
the room went silent, heavy and suffocating, but for an entirely different reason now. you stared at him like he’d just confessed to arson, while aki pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting a headache sharp enough to split him in half.
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” aki muttered under his breath, voice fraying at the edges.
“logical explanation for everything,” denji said proudly, arms crossed, his grin stretching wider. “see? no cheating, just me and power being awesome.”
“you’re unbelievable,” aki groaned, turning his back to both of you, shoulders heavy with drained fury, while you buried your face in your hands, caught between relief and the sting of wasted doubt.
“you’re welcome for clearing the air,” denji added, grinning like a fool. “honestly, you guys should thank me.”
“get out,” you and aki said at the same time, your voices overlapping with equal exhaustion, heavy and sharp.
denji just laughed and strolled out, muttering something about “no appreciation in this house,” leaving the two of you standing there, both too drained to even argue anymore, the seeds of mistrust finally uprooted by something as absurd and infuriating as denji and power.
