ladies man
pairing: aki hayakawa x reader
genre: slice of life, domestic, humorous, jealousy
warnings: none
synopsis: aki gets flirted with on a daily basis, right. in front. of you.
aki hayakawa was unfairly attractive. there was no other way to put it, no other word that describes the way he existed in a room like he’d been drawn there by some sharper, more deliberate hand. you told him that all the time—half-joking, half-serious—usually when he was brushing his hair back in the mirror with one slow flick of his wrist or pulling his coat over his shoulders with that same quiet efficiency he had for everything.
every time you said it, he’d grunt, roll his eyes in that long-suffering way of his, and mutter something under his breath about you being annoying. but the faintest curve of his lips always gave him away. he liked hearing it. he just didn’t know what to do with compliments, like they were a puzzle he didn’t have the patience to solve.
and as beautiful as he was, with his long legs and sharp cheekbones and his voice that always sat low and relaxed in his throat like it was only meant only for you, aki somehow had no idea how women reacted to him. none.
it would’ve been comical if it didn’t drive you insane. you’d watch it happen in real time, like a slow-motion train wreck of obliviousness, while he blinked his calm dark eyes at some girl who’d clearly lost her mind over him. he never once connected the dots.
it started with the girl at the café. she was new—maybe around your age, bright-eyed and giggly, the kind of person who dotted hearts over the i’s in her name and wore sparkly nail polish. aki had just ordered his usual, a black coffee and a single butter croissant, his voice quiet but steady, the kind that made people lean closer without realizing. when he stepped back to wait for the order, she leaned over the counter with a little too much enthusiasm, elbows pressing into the laminate.
“you come here a lot, don’t you?” she asked, batting her lashes like it was an olympic sport.
aki blinked at her, deadpan. “i live nearby.”
“i could tell,” she giggled, brushing imaginary lint from her apron, her eyes flicking up and down his frame. “i’d remember a face like yours.”
you were standing two feet away, sipping your iced chai through a straw, eyebrows steadily raising as you watched the exchange. the faintest muscle ticked in aki’s jaw, but he didn’t say anything to that. just nodded politely, turned slightly toward you, as if checking to see if you were ready to go. the barista’s face faltered for a second, but she tried again, pushing forward like this was a game she’d already won.
“you have really nice hair. what kind of shampoo do you use?”
“whatever’s in the shower,” he said flatly.
you nearly choked on your drink, coughing to cover a laugh. the girl blinked, thrown off. “…oh. well, it smells nice.”
“i’ll tell my girlfriend,” he said without missing a beat.
and just like that, she vanished from the conversation, lips pressing together as she turned away to busy herself with the register.
you leaned in toward him once you were outside, your voice low. “you do realize she was flirting with you, right?”
aki frowned, looking genuinely puzzled. “who?”
“the barista.”
he paused mid-step. “was she?” he asked sincerely, brows knitting together like you’d just told him math was fake.
you stared at him. “aki. she asked you what shampoo you use. shampoo. that’s like, level one girl-coded language.”
he sipped his coffee, totally unfazed. “you’re the only one who touches my shampoo. i don’t even know what it’s called.”
“you’re hopeless,” you muttered, blowing out a sharp breath.
—
then there was the nurse. the one who tended to him after a fight with some low-level devil who managed to bite through his sleeve. you were sitting in the corner of the clinic, arms crossed so tightly they ached, watching the way she lingered with the bandage, fingers ghosting over his skin a little longer than necessary, how she smiled just a little too much when aki winced.
“you really should be more careful,” she purred, tilting her head, her hair falling over her shoulder like a curtain.
“i was careful,” aki said without looking up. “he got lucky.”
“you know, if you ever need a private doctor, here’s my card.” her voice dipped like a secret.
you watched her slip a thin business card into the pocket of his shirt—inside the pocket, fingertips brushing the fabric of his chest—and your mouth dropped open slightly. she left with a wink you could practically hear.
you stood up immediately, chair scraping, and walked over, heat creeping into your face. “are you kidding me?”
“what?” he looked up at you, genuinely confused, his sleeve rolled to his elbow.
“she gave you her card.”
“so?” his tone was flat but curious.
“aki, she wants to examine you in ways that don’t involve first aid.”
he blinked, processing. “…that’s not appropriate,” he said after a long pause.
you groaned and walked out, your blood simmering. he followed at his usual unhurried pace.
—
but the worst one—the one that finally made something in you snap—was the devil hunter intern. some 19-year-old rookie who couldn’t stop flipping her hair every time aki walked into the room. you swore she must’ve rehearsed it in the mirror.
she would laugh extra loud at everything he said, even if it was just “pass me that folder.” she once brought him a thermos of soup she made herself, and when he politely declined because he already packed his lunch, she pouted like he’d broken her heart.
“you’re too serious, senpai,” she giggled, leaning against his desk like it was a prop. “do you ever have any fun?”
you were behind her, stapling reports, jaw tightening. aki didn’t even look up. “i don’t really have time for fun.”
she blinked, lowering her voice. “i could show you how to relax. i’m free friday.”
“so am i,” you chimed, loudly, snapping the stapler shut.
the girl turned to you, startled. “huh?”
you smiled sweetly, all teeth. “he’s free because we’re going out.”
aki looked up from his papers, then glanced between the two of you, confused. “…we are?”
you glared at him behind the intern’s back, eyes like knives.
he cleared his throat, straightening. “right. we are.”
the girl mumbled something and left quickly, retreating before she could lose more face.
you stomped over to his desk, whisper-shouting now. “how do you not notice when people are hitting on you?”
aki shrugged, voice calm as ever. “i just thought she was being nice.”
you threw your hands up. “that’s not nice, aki. that’s flirting. there’s a difference. i was nice to you once. now we sleep in the same bed.”
he looked amused then, just a little, the corner of his mouth quirking. “you’re cute when you’re jealous.”
“i’m not jealous. i’m exasperated.”
he reached up and pulled you close by the waist, his fingers warm and steady against your back. “whatever it is,” he said, voice low, “it means you care.”
“of course i care,” you mumbled, cheeks warm, heartbeat tripping under his touch. “i’m dating the hottest idiot in the whole building.”
he kissed your cheek lazily, his lips grazing your skin. “you’ll keep me humble.”
you narrowed your eyes, but your body softened against him anyway. “and you’ll keep me on blood pressure meds.”
he smirked and went back to his papers, the tiniest glint of mischief in his eyes, and despite your best efforts, your heart softened again, melting the edges of your irritation. hopeless. truly. but he was yours. and even if he never noticed the looks, the smiles, the giggles thrown his way—he always noticed you. always.
⸻
