My Story (? ??????? ?)?? chuuya x reader

Chuuya pov:

The dim, smoke-filled bar felt like a familiar cage. A comfortable one, perhaps, but still a cage. Tonight, though, it felt different. Tonight, it felt like the starting line. I watched Y/N across the small, scarred table, the candlelight painting her face in soft, flattering hues. Beautiful. God, she was beautiful. More than beautiful.

Executive Nakahara. The title felt weighty, substantial in a way that even my gravity manipulation couldn't replicate. It felt...deserved. And seeing the genuine pride shining in Y/N's eyes as she raised her glass, that made the fight worth it. "To you, Chuuya," she'd said, and the sound of my name on her lips was intoxicating, far more so than the ruby-red wine.

"Feels pretty good," I'd admitted, trying to keep the grin from splitting my face in half. It did feel good. Damn good. But the congratulations, the pats on the back from the Port Mafia's grimy ranks...they paled in comparison to this. To sharing this moment with her.

I knew I was a lightweight. It was a pathetic truth I'd long since learned to live with. A single glass brought a warmth to my cheeks, a loosening of the tongue. Two and the carefully constructed walls around my damn feelings started to crumble. Y/N had warned me, of course, her brow furrowed with concern. I'd scoffed, playing it cool. "I'm a grown man, Y/N," I'd said, a lie I almost believed myself.

By the fifth glass, the world was a little softer around the edges. The noise of the bar, usually grating, became a muted hum. My usually sharp focus blurred, centering solely on Y/N. Her laughter was music, the way she tilted her head when she was deep in thought, endearing. She was everything. I leaned closer, the scent of her perfume, a sweet, floral fragrance, filling my senses.

"Y/N," I mumbled, the word thick with the wine and the unspoken feelings I'd been burying for months, maybe years. "You look... beautiful tonight." God, I hated how clumsy it sounded. How inadequate.

She blushed, a delicate pink dusting her cheeks. "Thanks, Chuuya. You're not looking too bad yourself." She was trying to deflect, to change the subject. I wouldn't let her. Not tonight.

"Don't try to change the subject," I said, reaching out, my fingers tracing the smooth curve of her jaw. The touch sent a surge of electricity through me, a jolt that made me crave more. "You deserve all the good things in the world, you know that? More than anyone I know." It was the truth.

A raw, unadulterated truth that had been clawing its way out for too long.
I was getting reckless, I knew. The wine had loosened the dam, and the torrent of emotions was threatening to sweep me away. "Chuuya," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "Maybe you should slow down a little?"

I ignored her. I couldn't. Not anymore. My fingers tangled in her hair, the strands soft and silky against my skin. "I've been wanting to do this for so long," I murmured, my voice rough with a desire I usually kept shackled and locked away.

Leaning in closer, I felt the nervous flutter in my stomach, the pounding of my heart. Her lips were so close, so inviting. I wanted to taste them, to feel them against mine. I wanted to drown in her.

I didn't give her a chance to decide. With a soft groan that escaped my lips before I could stop it, I closed the distance. My lips met hers, clumsily, hesitantly, but with a desperate need that surpassed anything I'd ever felt.

It was a mistake. My addled brain knew that. I was drunk, she was sober...well, relatively sober. She deserved better than a drunken confession and a sloppy kiss. But God, it felt so right.The kiss deepened, and to my utter surprise and relief, she didn't push me away. She melted into it, her own reservations seemingly dissolving along with mine. Her hands, which had been nervously hovering, tentatively rose to cup my face, her fingers tracing the lines of my cheekbones.

The kiss wasn't perfect. It was messy, fueled by cheap wine and repressed desires. But it was real. It was raw. And it was everything I had secretly dreamed of since the moment I'd laid eyes on her.

Just as the kiss was threatening to consume me, a booming laugh shattered the spell. Reality crashed down, heavy and unwelcome. I pulled away, my face burning with shame and a lingering spark of...hope?

I blinked, trying to regain my focus. I ran a hand through my hair, a sheepish expression creeping across my face. "Sorry," I mumbled, the taste of her still lingering on my lips. "Got a little carried away." What an understatement.

She forced a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's okay," she said, but the words rang false. "You've had a lot to drink."

The silence that followed was thick enough to cut with a knife. I avoided her gaze, focusing on the half-empty glasses of wine. My chest constricted, the sudden absence of her touch leaving me cold and empty.

"Maybe we should go," she suggested, her voice barely a whisper.I nodded, relief washing over me, mixed with a sharp pang of disappointment. This was it, then. Back to the way things were. Pretending. Longing in silence.The walk back to her apartment was agonizing. The cool night air did little to soothe the heat radiating from my face. I was usually a whirlwind of restless energy, but tonight, I walked silently, my head bowed in shame.

When we finally reached her doorstep, I stopped, turning to face her. I felt like a complete idiot. I'd ruined everything. "Y/N," I began, my voice hesitant. "About what happened back there..."

She held up a hand, cutting me off. "Don't," she said softly. "Don't say anything. Just... just forget it happened. You were drunk. I understand."

Forget it happened? How could I forget the best, most terrifying moment of my life?

My face tightened. "I don't want to forget it," I said, my voice gaining a newfound resolve. The wine might have loosened my tongue, but it hadn't manufactured these feelings. They were real. They were mine. "I meant what I said, Y/N. About you being beautiful. About you deserving everything good. I meant it all."

I took a step closer, my eyes searching hers, pleading with her to see the truth in them. "Maybe I was drunk," I admitted, my voice rough with honesty. "But the alcohol just loosened my tongue. It didn't invent those feelings. They've been there for a long time."

Her eyes widened, a flicker of surprise crossing her face. This was it. This was my last chance. I had to make her understand."We can't," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. "We work together. It would be too complicated."

I scoffed. "Complicated?" I repeated, my voice edged with frustration. "So what? Since when have we ever shied away from complicated?"

I closed the remaining distance between us, reaching out to cup her cheek, my thumb gently stroking her skin. "Don't push me away, Y/N," I pleaded, my voice raw with emotion. "Not when I'm finally being honest with you... and with myself."

In that moment, I poured everything I had into my gaze. Vulnerability. Longing. Hope. I held nothing back. The fate of my heart rested on her answer.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible, but loud enough for me to hear. "Okay."A wave of relief washed over me, so powerful it almost buckled my knees. A smile broke through the nervousness, a genuine, unadulterated smile that radiated from my soul.

I leaned in, my lips brushing against hers once more, this time with a tenderness and purpose that transcended the drunken passion of the bar. This time, it wasn't just about the wine. It was about her. It was about us.

This time, there was no turning back. And for the first time in a long time, I wasn't afraid. I was terrified, yes, but also...hopeful. Hopeful that maybe, just maybe, this complicated mess could turn into something beautiful.




Author note: I hope you all liked chuuya view on what happened :) make sure to eat and drink i love you all even tho i dont personally know you! if you liked the chapter plz vote! 

Words: 1369