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elliaze · 2 months

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Don't take my love away | j. velaryon

Warnings: spoiler! for the book, HEAVY!angst, twincest (let's be honest they are targaryen), their age has been changed, mention of sex (nothing descriptive), inspiration from Billie Eillish - CHIHIRO

Word Count: +1900

MASTERLIST

She remembered their first kiss.

Innocent, because it was both their first time doing it.

Forbidden, because they shouldn't do it.

Jace was her twin brother. He was born just a few minutes after her. They were always together.

Maybe that was why it seemed inevitable. Or maybe that night, when they were both two–and–ten and fought with Aemond, they needed each other more than usual.

Which wasn't true, because they had spent every moment together for years.

Maybe it was the emotions that were running through them. Certainly hers, because even though the stealing of Vhagar was behind them, the maesters had dressed the wound on Jace's head and the one she had on her forehead, the adrenaline was still pumping through them.

She remembered that they had both escorted Lucerys to his chambers and waited until their younger brother had fallen asleep from exhaustion. That evening – or even that morning – they both said Luce had been incredibly brave in standing up for them and taking Aemond's eye. They had also known that, as his older siblings, they should have been defending him, not the other way. They both felt a pang of guilt, and maybe that was the reason they had kissed.

She remembered that when they had finally reached Jacaerys's chambers, he had kept saying that he should have been faster, braver, more observant. He panicked, and she was afraid her brother wouldn't be able to control his breathing.

And then she kissed him. It had been a completely innocent kiss, but it had also been a confirmation that they meant so much more to each other than mere siblings.

She remembered his first touch. One where he touched her like a man could touch a woman.

They were six–and–ten, and the whole act seemed uncertain, even awkward. They didn't know what they were doing, and all they thought about was being as close to each other as possible.

This time, it wasn't just emotions that influenced it. They were completely aware of what they were doing and didn't think for a moment about stopping it.

They wanted each other, their kisses and touch.

They didn't care about the consequences, or that they shouldn’t have done it. They both knew that sooner or later they would be forced to marry someone neither of them loved, and they shouldn't get so attached to each other when it was only a matter of time before they had to part ways.

But they couldn't stop.

The thought of not being by each other's side was destroying their hearts to the core.

She remembered the first I love you he said to her, not as a brother, but as a man.

It was the day their mother found out about their forbidden affair and she couldn't do anything else but announce that they would get married. That evening, Jace came to her chamber, or rather rushed inside. She was sitting nervously in front of her mirror and combing her hair, when the sound of the door opening made her turn around.

“Jace…” she started, but he was quickly at her side. He grabbed her by the shoulders, lifting her up, and then placed his hands on her cheeks. “What are you doing?"”

“I just wanted you to know how much I love you,” he confessed as honestly as she had never heard it. She felt as if her whole insides were melting under the influence of his words, as well as his gaze full of love and devotion. “You are my whole world. My life. Without you, there is no me. I love you like nothing else. I love you more than I love myself. You are the only one. You will always be.”

She had tears in her eyes when she heard his words, and at the same time she was unable to stop the charming smile and the blush that spread across her cheeks. She was happy and finally understood all those love stories she had read. In books, the couple in love were never related to each other, but in their case, she thought that it only worked in their favour.

It was inevitable.

“I love you too, Jacaerys. And I don't want to live without you. You’re everything I have and what matters to me. Our hearts are connected forever.” She confessed a moment before she connected their lips.

The kiss was calm at first, as if she just wanted to confirm her words with it. However, it quickly turned into a hot, lustful one. Her hands quickly landed in his curls, and his lifted her nightgown to her waist and stopped at her completely exposed thighs and hips. Jace lifted her up and led them to her bed. He laid her on the satin sheets, joining her immediately.

This time they knew exactly what they were doing. They both knew their bodies and knew how to extract the sweetest sounds of pleasure from each other. Their hands were clasped together the whole time, as if to make sure that it was real. She felt shivers every time he kissed her body, and Jace did not hold back to show her that everything she did was the sweetest pleasure for him.

When he entered her, their eyes met and they both connected their lips in a thirsty kiss. Their bodies moved in complete sync, as if this was what they were made for – to be together in the most intimate way possible, the closest they could be. She saw stars in her eyes, and when she came with his name on her lips, and Jace right after her, she thought this was exactly what she wanted.

A future with Jacaerys.

She saw them together, their children, and the whole happy, long life that lay ahead of them.

But that future didn't include them being embroiled in a bloody war. The Dance of the Dragons, they called it.

From the very beginning, they had to deal with the loss of loved ones. Lucerys, Rhaenys... Death came to them one by one, and both feared that it would eventually come for them. But every time it didn't, the fear was still there. Maybe it was their stupid luck that kept them alive. Or – as she liked to say – this world wouldn't be able to accept their deaths. They had to live because they loved each other so much that they wouldn't be able to survive without the other.

And she was rarely wrong.

And yet, this time she was.

The Battle of the Gullet was completely chaotic. The Velaryon fleet was fighting against the Triarchy with exceptional ferocity. But she didn't pay attention to which side had the upper hand at the moment. Her only goal was to find Jacaerys and Vermax.

She didn't think she should even be there. Even though Vermithor, who had been her companion for many years, burned every enemy ship to ashes, giving the Velaryon fleet a slight advantage, all she could do was look around for the sight of the familiar dragon and its rider.

She remembered how the four of them had gone for rides many times. The young Vermax had always been relatively witty and ready to have fun with Vermithor. The old dragon might seem to ignore his younger brethren, but in the end, the two were very much bonded, in the same way as their riders.

Finally, she spotted Vermax, and somewhere on his back sat Jacaerys. Bolts and arrows flew towards them, and her heart was pounding as she realised that Jacaerys was too low and much more vulnerable to attack. She needed to do everything she could to protect them together with Vermithor, not even caring about her own safety.

However, she was unable to stop the bolts that hit Vermax. The dragon let out a terrible scream and began to fall down with its rider.

“JACE!” She screamed in horror. Her eyes misted and tears filled, and at that moment Vermithor was responsible for what had to be done. He fell down after the dead dragon, and all she could see was Vermax's body falling into the water.

"We have to find him" she said to the dragon and Vermithor just screamed loudly and breathed fire that consumed one of the enemy ships. They circled for a while looking for Jacaerys until she finally managed to spot him on the beach not far from the fight. She could hear the sounds of battle clearly, so when she saw Jace standing on his own two feet, she knew she had to get him out of there as soon as possible before someone realised he was still alive.

Vermithor landed hard on the beach, and she slid down on his wing and ran to her brother.

Jace was weak and wet. She also noticed an arrow in his arm, but the wound didn't seem serious enough to prevent them from escaping together.

“Y/N” she didn't hear him say her name, but she saw his lips moving.

Jace breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that she was okay, and she did everything to get to him as quickly as possible.

They were only a few metres away.

A few steps away and then she would be able to take him in her arms and save him.

However, fate can be cruel. It takes away what we love without warning.

Neither she nor Jace noticed the arrow that was shot straight into his back. Jace stopped mid–step and staggered on his feet, and she had the impression that he was experiencing some worst nightmare. However, she didn't give up and still believed that they had a chance to survive. That she would manage to save him and get him to Dragonstone, where the maester would heal every wound on his body.

There was still a chance.

She believed in it with every fiber of her being, because if she lost him, she would die with him.

She was almost there when another arrow whistled. Jace watched her as she approached, as if he knew what was about to happen.

There was no other thought in his head but her.

They had come into the world together. And she was also supposed to be there when he was about to leave it.

“Y/N” he said to her before the last arrow hit his neck.

Jace fell, and she caught him in her arms at the last moment.

“Jace?” She whispered nervously, her voice breaking. “Jaecerys, wake up!” She touched his face, and his skin was still hot, just like it was always when she touched her. Hot dragon blood. “Jace, I beg you. I can’t live in a world without you.”

Her prayers were in vain, and when she kissed him for the last time, he was already dead.

She remembered their first kiss, touch, and declaration of love.

But she never wanted to remember the last time she tasted his lips, how he looked at her with love and told her he loved her. Their story had no right to end in such a drastic way.

They were only twenty. Their whole lives ahead of them. They deserved more time.

They were supposed to be king and queen after they helped their mother get back what was rightfully hers.

He had no right to die in front of her, and above all, to leave her alone in this cruel world.

She never believed in gods, but if one of them stood before her and asked her what she wanted, her answer would be only one.

Don’t take my love away from me.

She didn’t want to stay in this world when he was gone.

#fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon x y/n #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon angst #hotd fanfic #elliaze #jacaerys velaryon

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triptuckers · 1 month

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here when you wake up - remy lebeau

Request: nope Pairing: remy lebeau x reader Summary: your errands are rudely and violently interrupted, but luckily the x-men are never far Warnings: *cracks knuckles* fighting, violence, blood, death, angst, injuries, mentions of hospitals, guns and gunshots, blacking out/losing consiousness, there’s a robery and I think that’s all whew (sorry. get ready) Word count: 2k A/N: “ooohh this trope is overused” no it is not and I will die on this hill. enjoy!

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as you're walking through the busy street, you mentally curse yourself for not going to the bank beforegetting your groceries. and you wish you had taken a bigger bag with you.

you're holding your bag in one hand but it's heavy, and you're slightly tilted to your right side as you walk. every now and then you have to stop to shove a box of pasta back in there so it doesn't fall out.

you just really hope there isn't a huge line at the bank. right now, you just want to get home. remy is coming over tonight and he's going to teach you how to make one of his signature recipes.

as you round the corner and see the bank, you sigh when you see the line is so long people are waiting outside. of course everyone had decided to go to the bank today.

you take your place in line behind the last person, hoping the line will at least move quickly so you can go home and put your groceries away.

the line moves slowly until finally you're actually inside the bank. you stand on your toes to look at the desks ahead and see the reason why the line is moving so slow: only half of the desks have employees sitting behind them.

you're seriously doubting going home and going to the bank tomorrow. but you're about halfway through the line now, you might as well stay. even if it meant your milk being outside the fridge for a while longer.

you're zoning out, occasionally shuffling forward in line, when you hear a commotion behind you.

as you look over your shoulder, you see a group of masked people shove their way into the bank. you're about to roll your eyes and turn back when you notice one of them is holding a very large, very dangerous looking gun.

of course they had to pick today.

as more people realise what's going on, panic spreads as people start to scream and run away. you drop your bag of groceries and run away, towards the desks and away from the armed men.

one of the employees shoots you a terrified look as you jump over the desk, pulling her down with you.

that's when the gunfire starts.

you squeeze your eyes shut and clamp your hands over your ears, trying to drown out the sounds of bullets hitting flesh and bodies dropping.

you feel someone grab a hold of your arm and open your eyes slightly to see the bank employee clutching your arm, a terrified expression on her face that mirrors your own.

'it's gonna be okay.' you whisper, hoping you sound braver than you feel. 'what's your name?'

'katie.' she says.

you notice she's not much older than you.

'I'm y/n. we'll get through this okay?' you say and katie nods at your words. 'we're just going to stay here and keep silent.'

you shuffle closer to her beneath the desk, as the gunfire finally stops. katie shoots you a terrified look as you put you hand over your nose and mouth, trying to silence the sound of your rapid breathing.

'we'll be in and out!' yells an unfamiliar voice from somewhere in the bank. 'just need an employee to help us out.'

you hear the sounds of several people walking around, mixed with the sounds of people breathing heavily. you're too scared to think about how many people are bleeding on the floor.

'no one wants to volunteer?' says the same voice. 'how about we play a little hide and seek?'

you and katie try to stay as silent as possible, holding onto each other, as the sound of footsteps comes closer. eventually, they stop. way too close to you.

suddenly, a face appears over the edge of the desk above you. you can't help but to let out a small, frightened yelp.

'got ya!' says the masked man above you.

his head tilts towards katie. even though he's wearing a mask, you can see him smile.

'hello miss...' he leans in closer to katie, who's got silent tears running down her cheeks, dripping from her chin onto her uniform. 'katie. what a lovely name, want to help us out?'

both you and katie are frozen in fear. then the man suddenly grabs a hold of katie's arm and pulls her up.

'no!' you yell, reaching out to grab a hold of her other hand.

but the robber slams the back of his gun into your head. you fall back, pressing a hand to your forehead. it comes away sticky with blood.

you see how katie struggles in the guy's arms. she manages to hit him in the eye and he swears and drops her arm. just as she runs away, the sound of a gun being fired fills the room and katie crumbles to the floor.

you watch in horror as she looks at you, seems the mumble something, before she stops moving at all. you're breathing heavily, your eyes glued to hers.

there's more commotion outside, but your eyes are still on katie.

suddenly, the sound of many guns fill the air and you tear your eyes away from the girl in front of you. you see a flash of red.

you crawl over to the other side of the desk and look around it. the red flash was scott. you recognise him in his signature cyclops suit. if the x-men are here, maybe that means-

'oh, you gon' pay for that, mon ami!'

you swear you burst into tears again at the sound of remy's voice. you say his name, but it comes out as barely a whisper, and the sounds in the room are so loud.

you close your eyes and pull your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them. you desperately wish for all of this to be over. you wish it was all a bad dream and you'd wake up.

suddenly, a harsh hand grabs a hold of your arm and pulls you to your feet. an arm encircles your body, holding you firmly against a chest. you let out a gasp of surprise as you feel a gun being pressed to your temple.

you close your eyes, not wanting to see anything. it's a bad decision. it makes you focus on the sounds in the room and the feel of the cold gun against your skin.

'chéri!' comes remy's familiar voice.

you open your eyes and see him standing a few feet away, card at the ready between his fingers.

'what are you doing here?' he says.

you look into his eyes, focusing on them. you want to answer him, but it's like you lost your ability to talk.

'let her go!' says remy, dangerously twirling the card between his fingers.

'here's what's going to happen.' comes your attacker's voice from behind you. 'I am going to walk out of here with this pretty lady, and you two are going to let me. If I see you move, she's dead.'

you whimper in fear as the guy starts slowly walking towards the exit, pulling you with him.

remy and scott both look at you, but stand still. they know the risk is too great. but you don't miss the look of absolute loathing remy gives your capturer. then his eyes soften as they land on you. he nods at you, as if trying to tell you it'll all be alright.

as soon as you're outside, you're pulled into an alley, away from the curious onlookers on the other side of the street.

'those damn mutants ruin everything.' says the guy in your ear.

you hear running footsteps behind you.

'I said move and she's dead!' yells the robber.

in one quick move, he turns you around and you see remy sprinting towards you.

the next moment, you see remy throw a card your way at the same time you feel something hard and cold against your head and the world goes black.

when you open your eyes again, bright lights shine in your face. you squeeze them shut, noticing the way your head is pounding. slowly, you open your eyes again, letting them adjust to the light.

once you can look around without the bright lights irritating you, you take in your surroundings. you appear to be in a hospital. you can hear the faint beeping of a monitor on your right.

the view out the window shows a bright sunny day, and some of the tall buildings in the city. you slowly reach your hand up. you feel a bandage encircling your head. from the way your head is pounding, you can tell the guy really hit you hard in the head.

when you look to your left, your eyes land on a chair next to your bed. or rather, the person in it.

it looks like remy didn’t go back to the mansion after the robbery. his suit is dirty, as are his fingers. his hair is a mess, and from the way he’s sitting in the chair, you can tell his back is going to hurt.

he’s fast asleep.

‘you look lke shit.’

at the sound of your voice, remy wakes. he blinks a few times before sitting up straight, rolling his head from side to side to ease some of the stiffness in his neck.

‘quoi?’ he says, crossing his arms over his chest and closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

‘I said you look like shit.’ you repeat.

remy’s eyes snap open suddenly as he looks at you. instantly, he’s by your side.

‘I look like shit? you’re the one in a hospital bed, mon amour.’

you smile tiredly at him, reaching out to lace your fingers with his. remy runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

‘it’s good you still have your sense of humor, but you scared me, chéri.’ he admits softly.

‘I’m sorry, my love. I didn’t mean to.’

‘it was real close. when that guy hit you in the head and I saw you fall to the floor… merde, it was awful. luckily we got beast. he helped the doctors here.’

‘give him my thanks, will you?’

remy nods, bringing your hand up to kiss the back of it. he eyes the bandage on your head.

‘how are you feeling?’

‘I’ve got a pounding headache. I’m tired. besides that, I’m okay.’

remy looks at you, and you can tell there’s something on his mind. he’d never been good about hiding his thoughts from you.

‘what’s on your mind, love?’ you say.

‘come live at the mansion with me.’ he says.

‘what?’ you chuckle.

‘I’m serious. if we hadn’t showed up on time, I don’t want to think about what could have happened. come live at the mansion with me, you’d be safe. and I’m tired of seeing you only when our schedules line up.’

you look him in the eye. remy smiles at you. he’s really serious about this. he wants you to move in with him. to move to the mansion where he lives with his fellow mutants.

‘remy, I’m not with the x-men, I’m not a mutant.’

‘you don’t have to be.’

‘what would I even do there?’

‘teach the kids?’

‘teach them what?’

‘we’ll find something.’

‘remy… you’re really serious?’

he leans in and kisses your forehead. you close your eyes, savoring the feeling of his lips against your skin.

‘oui, chéri, I’m serious. I don’t want to be apart from you.’

‘and the team is okay with it?’

‘they will be.’

‘why am I not surprised you haven’t asked them yet?’

‘come on, they love you. I’m sure the kids will, too. we’ll find something for you to do, I promise. I just want want to be away from you.’

‘alright. we’ll talk it over with scott and jean. and I’ll have to talk to my boss and my landlord. we’ll figure it out.’

remy smiles at you and kisses your hand again. ‘get some rest, mon amour. I’ll be here when you wake up.’

A/N: thanks for reading! everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. please do not copy, translate, plagiarise or repost my work! some of these are requested by other people and I spend a lot of time and effort on my works <3 much love, marit

#remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #remy lebeau fanfiction #remy lebeau fanfic #remy lebeau fanfics #remy lebeau fic #remy lebeau fics #remy lebeau oneshot #gambit #gambit x reader #gambit x you #gambit fanfiction #gambit fanfic #gambit fanfics #gambit fic #gambit fics #gambit oneshot

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leedosbunnyboy · 1 year

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Kyojuro Rengoku; The Fire Kindling in My Heart

Genre: Fluff, Implied Smut

Pairing: Kyojuro Rengoku x Male Reader

Warning(s): Very narrative-driven, Slight feminization (Reader is referred to as a wife), Kyojuro and Reader bathe together, Implied bath s3x

Summary: Living with the love of your life can do a number on you, especially when you live every day wondering if he’ll even come back alive

Part II

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

Ten years…

Ten years since you’ve first started living with the flame hashira’s family.

Kyojuro Rengoku, the flame hashira, was your best friend since you were kids. So whenever your parents were killed by a demon, it was only natural he’d invite you to live with his family.

You were eternally grateful for his kindness and did everything anything necessary to attempt to repay his kindness; however, Kyojuro never once asked anything of you, simply saying you being alive and within his presence was more than enough. Even now, Kyojuro was twenty and you were nineteen, he was still as caring as ever. Always bringing you gifts from his many missions.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You knew you liked the slayer. Hell, you’ve known since you were twelve. That was when Kyojuro held you as you cried on the second anniversary of your parents’ death. You wailed, you screamed, you looked a mess, all covered in snot and struggling to breathe, but Kyojuro never once judged you. He simply continued to hold you and you let you cry into his shoulder, whispering sweet words into your ear when you calmed enough to no longer be shaking. That’s when you knew, your heart belonged to him.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

You weren’t any good with swords, hence why you never chose to pursue the path of a demon slayer. Kyojuro tried his best to teach you, but you simply couldn’t figure it out. Instead, you decided to learn medicine. If you couldn’t help Kyojuro on the battlefield, you could at least help him in the aftermath. While Kyojuro spent his days training to pass Final Selection, you would learn how to blend herbs and roots from the kind old doctor up the mountain. Returning home at night to prepare dinner for Kyojuro and his younger brother, Senjuro, as well as to clean out any scrapes the older might have received during his training. You would run a bath for the swordsman and massage his tense shoulders until he began to doze off. Afterwards, you would tuck in Senjuro for the night, making sure to read him his favorite stories. The younger always asking if he could grow up to be as brave as the heroes in his stories, and you always reassuring him that he would be even braver. You would then head to Kyojuro’s room and fall asleep in the slayer’s arms.

A warm feeling would arise in your chest every night. You loved this routine.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

When Kyojuro was promoted to a hashira, you couldn’t really bring yourself to be happy. First off, his missions almost always had him away from home, so now that he was an even higher rank, you knew there was almost no way he’d be home for a while. And second of all, he’s almost died multiple times, and now that he was a hashira, you knew you would have to get used to it. Every time you had to wipe his blood off his skin, every time you had to stitch a gaping cut, it pained you. You constantly worried for him, and now to know the man you cared for so deeply could die any day now, did nothing to ease your constant fear. But he assured you, “I’m very strong (M/n)! It is my duty to protect the weak. Of what use would my years of training be if i never used it to protect the weak?” God, he reminded you so much of his mother.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

By some miracle, Kyojuro had some time off. A week off specifically. A week of not having to worry about if he’d be killed on the battlefield, a week of not having to hold your breath each time a crow came to your residence out of fear of hearing of his death, just a week of relaxing with Kyojuro by your side.

However, fate had other ideas.

In the middle of his break, he was called via crow to report to his master’s residence. Lord Ubayashiki if you recall correctly. You’ve never met the man but you’ve heard great things.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“Must you really go? I’m sure you can simply tell him all he needs to know in a letter.” You now stood at the entrance to the Rengoku estate. Barely catching up to the flame hashira on his way out:

“I wish it was that easy (M/n), but if the master requires my presence it must be important.” He held your hands, his fingers brushing over your knuckles in an attempt to calm your growing worry. “Hey, I fortunately still have 3 more days of my break, remember? When I return, I promise I won’t leave your side until my rest is over.” He flashed you that god-forsaken smile of his. The smile that calmed you down and had your heart beating faster than the speed of a shinobi.

“When you return, please hold me?” You looked up at the man, silently swearing him to hold up his end of the promise with just your eyes.

“I swear on my honor, (M/n).” And with that, he was on his way.

You watched until you could no longer see his bright hair over the tree line, before returning back to sit at the engawa, distracting yourself by counting the stars.

“You really love my brother, don’t you?” Asked a small voice.

“Is it really that obvious?” You chuckled, brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face.

“Of course it is. Your face lights up every time you’re with him.” Senjuro comments as he moves to sit next to you.

“Then why doesn’t he say anything?” You asked, tears beginning to well in your eyes. “I doubt he’ll ever feel the same. He needs a strong hashira woman to marry, not a lowly pharmacist like me who can’t even wield a sword properly.” You wiped some stray tears away with the sleeve of your kimono. It was blue and had coi fish and lily pads as the design. Kyojuro bought it for you. He said you’d look pretty in it.

“You shouldn’t be so harsh on yourself (M/n),” Senjuro rested his hand on your shoulder, “I know my brother cares deeply for you. Why else would he invite you to live with us?”

“Because your brother is an honorable man who pities the weak. It was for no other reason than helping a pitiful boy who couldn’t even help his parents.” You clenched your hands into a fist as to not cry.

“Don’t say such things about yourself.” Senjuro shifted to rub your back. For such a young boy, Senjuro was very was mature for his age. I guess having to raise yourself due to having a drunkard as a father does that to a kid. “You know, Kyojuro told me he joined the slayers corp because of you.”

You turned towards the younger boy, surprise etched into every corner of your face.

“When he saw you that night ten years ago. Alone, all at the hands of a demon, he promised to not allow that to happen to anyone again. He said he made two promises that night; to kill all demons and to never let you be alone again.” Senjuro recounted, his smile brightening upon feeling your back relax.

“He truly cares for you (M/n). When he returns, please consider telling him about your feelings. I promise he won’t hate you, no- he can’t ever hate you.” Senjuro smiled at you.

“I will.” You wipe the remainder of the tears off your face. “Now, let’s get you back to bed, yeah?”

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

Kyojuro returned by sunrise. Ubayashiki simply wanted to inform him of his next mission after his break.

He slowly crept into his home, peeping into his father’s room to see him sound asleep. Most likely due to alcohol rather than exhaustion, but at least he isn’t yelling at Senjuro, or god forbid, (M/n).

He then made his way to his room, but not before peeking into Senjuro’s room. His heart swelled at the sight of you resting with Senjuro in your hold, his head resting in the crook of your neck. A half-read story in your hands.

“Poor things. You both must’ve been very tired.” Kyojuro whispered as he moved to wrap you both in a blanket. You reached out a hand to grip his. “Oh, it’s you.” You stated, half-asleep. “I’m sorry (M/n). I didn’t mean to wake you.” He softly smiled. “No, it’s fine. I was about to awake anyways. Let me just lay Senjuro down and I’ll make us some breakfast alright?” You shifted to rest the younger Rengoku on his futon before tucking him in with a blanket. “Sounds good to me.” The flame hashira smiled as you dragged him out of his room and into the kitchen.

“Are you in the mood for anything specific?” You asked as you wrapped an apron around your waist. “Some miso soup would be amazing!” He stated. “With sweet potatoes i assume?” You smiled back to him. “You know me so well.” The flame hashira chuckled heartily. “Well of course I would know what my best friend likes.” Not to mention how i’m crazy in love with you you thought.

Just before you could finish the meal, a very annoyed and very hungover Shinjuro came barging into the kitchen. His eyes glanced over to Kyojuro before a look of disgust overtook his face.

“Sir Shinjuro. Would you like some miso soup as well?” You offered. Mostly to break the uncomfortable silence which had overtaken the area.

“Sure, sure, whatever.” Kyojuro’s father had never particularly hated you, in fact, the flame hashira might even go as far as to say his father liked you. Well, he’s never shown it, but he’s also never yelled at you, and according to Kyojuro those are the same things.

You smiled towards the retired hashira before preparing three bowls of soup, as well as an extra for when Senjuro decided to wake up. Normally Shinjuro would have him up at this hour but you decided to let him sleep in just a bit longer. You brought over the bowls and set them in front of the two men before taking your seat beside Kyojuro, apron still wrapped around your waist.

“Is it good?” You asked Kyojuro. “Of course it is! Everything you make is delicious (M/n)!” The flame hashira would say before wolfing down the entire bowl. “Tasty!” You chuckled at his antics. “Shall i get you some more?” He nodded and you arose to pour him some more.

“He has two arms and two legs (M/n). I’m pretty sure he can pour his own soup.” Shinjuro would remark as you stood. “It’s completely fine. I have no issue with it.” You stated once you returned with Kyojuro’s bowl. “He is a hashira. It won’t kill him to get up every once in a while. He doesn’t need you to be waiting on him hand and foot-“ “That’s enough father.” Kyojuro interrupted. “I would never ask something of (M/n) if it were to hinder him. Now please let us eat in peace.” Shinjuro tsked before continuing to eat. “Say, Kyojuro. Why don’t you get that wife of yours to go wake up Senjuro. He has to start training soon.” A blush found its way to both your and Kyojuro’s faces at the comment. “I-I’ll go get Senjuro.” You quickly stood and scurried to the younger’s room. “I can run you a bath if you’d like Kyojuro?” You offered before you fully exited the kitchen. “That would be lovely (M/n), *cough* thank you.” He stated, face still red and clearly flustered.

•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*

“Thank you (M/n). This is wonderful.” Kyojuro said as he sunk into the warm water. “It’s no problem at all Kyojuro.” You smiled at him and began to work on massaging his tense muscles.

“About what my father said, I apologize if it made you uncomfortable.” The flame hashira said as he relaxed into your touch. “It’s completely fine.” You contemplated on whether or not to say what was on your mind. “I actually kind of liked it.” You whispered, but Kyojuro heard you.

“Oh?” He leaned his head back to make eye contact with you. “Would you enjoy being my wife? Would you like to wait here for me on my missions and then when I’d return, I’d hold you and whisper sweet things into your ear?” Kyojuro teased. His smiled widened as he saw your ears begin to turn red. “Well, I already kind of do that.” You said, attempting to distract yourself by working on kneading the older’s tense muscles.

“(M/n)…” Kyojuro called. “Hmm?” You cautiously looked up at him. “Could you please join me?” You swear you could feel your face turn darker than a beet, but you complied nonetheless.

Now you found your back resting against the chest of the flame hashira as he worked on cleaning your hair.

“How long have you wanted to be my wife?” Kyojuro teased. “Since we were kids. I’ve always admired you Kyojuro. Your resolve, your determination, your kindness, your pure heart, all of it made me fall deeper and deeper in love with you.” You finally admitted what you’d been holding with you for the past seven years. “What if I told you I felt the same?” Kyojuro asked. His hand falling from your hair to hold your hands. “Are you sure it’s not just because we’re both naked and pressed against each other?” You joked. “Well not that I don’t enjoy this, but it’s not at all the reason.” He pulled you closer to him. “All I do is for you. Joining the demon slayer corp, training hard to become a hashira, waking up in the morning, it’s all for you (M/n). While I’m away on missions, all I do is long to come home and see your beautiful smile while you’re reading to Senjuro. To hold you while you work on whatever new interest captures your attention. To taste your amazing cooking. To simply be around you is my will to live. You’re my everything (M/n).”

“But I am a man. You deserve a strong woman to carry your bloodline. Hell, I can’t even wield a sword correctly, how do you expect me to be good enough-“ Kyojuro’s lips met with yours. “Please stop speaking such nonsense. I don’t need a bloodline, I only need you (M/n).” A comfortable silence overtook the bathroom as he simply held you. Relishing in the presence of each other.

“I’ll tell you what (M/n). After this mission is over, I will marry you. How does that sound?” Your heart was beating uncontrollably. “Hello?” Kyojuro giggled as he caught sight of your flustered expression. “Don’t laugh at me! The man I’ve been in love with just expressed his feelings towards me and asked me to marry him in the same hour.” You slapped his chest as he continued to laugh. “Well, do you accept?” He looked into your eyes. “Of course!” Kyojuro smiled and captured your lips again. “Good, now let me show you just how much I love you.”

You two became one beneath that water. Much to the dismay of Shinjuro’s ears.

*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•*•

As quickly as he returned, he had to leave yet again. Now you stood again at the gate of the estate. Kyojuro’s hands in yours as you begged for him not leave.

“I must go love. This mission is important.” Kyojuro chuckled as you continued to cling to him.

“Come back safely. You owe me a wedding!” You whined.

Kyojuro nodded and brought your lips to his. Holding you tightly and he hoped you would feel all his love.

“Promise you’ll return to me.” You held out your pinky to him.

He intertwined your fingers and kissed your knuckle. “Promise.”

“Say… what kind of mission are you even going on?”

“Something to do with a train. I’m sure it won’t be hard. I’ll be back quickly!”

#demon slayer #demon slayer x male reader #kyojuro #rengoku #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro x male reader #rengoku x male reader #kyojuro rengoku x male reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x male reader #kny #kny x male reader #mlm #bxb #male reader

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deathbxnny · 4 months

Note

Yanqing and teen!reader being a menace duo and takes the lyric from "Paris" 'if we go down, we go down together' a little too seriously. And JingYuan isn't sure if he should be glad they get along so well or regret the fact he introduced them

I absolutely love this idea, so thank you for the request Anon and I hope you'll like this!!<33

Content: Mostly platonic but with romantic undertones?, fluff, a bit of crack, Jing Yuan is over it, teen reader, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!!

((Not proofread))

Jing Yuan regretted ever introducing you two to eachother, mainly because you immideatley not only clicked, but also made it your personal mission to get into as much trouble as you physically can. Always on "accident" as you claimed, ofcourse. For a while, he even wondered if he should just "undo" his mistake, but giving up was eventually the less tiring choice for the older man.

You and Yanqing were the best of friends from day one too, never, ever seperating for too long. It felt wrong and unnerving when you did, which made you into a perfect fighting duo under your masters orders. If he couldn't keep you apart, then he might as well train you two to become perfect half of the other.

With that said, any trouble you encountered was faced with two menacing teens who often had a hard time understanding when to stop and just run. You encouraged eachother to do better, to become stronger and even braver... but that also came with an air of arrogance. No one could beat you two when you were together. Or well, that's what you claimed. The many times you hobbled half-injured into Jing Yuan's office said otherwise.

Since you spend every day together, you often use your downtime to go to the swordmarket or just hang around Yanqing's home, if the weather wasn't all too nice that day. You read boring lecture books together, often mocking the generals voice, who often was the one who forced you to read them in the first place. (He definitely caught you once and was not amused...)

You also absolutely love to prank the general and Fu Xuan, even if it ends you both in alot of trouble. There is something about getting back at all those "strict" adults as you run away hand-in-hand, cackling in the warm evening sun together that makes it all so worth it.

Sorry this took so long, Anon... unfortunately, the end of year exams are coming up, and I'm STRESSED, lol, but anyways, thank you for the cute request, and I hope you liked this!!<33

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail fanfic #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x reader #hsr #hsr yanqing #hsr Yanqing x reader #honkai star rail yanqing #yanqing x reader #yanqing

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milfhunter6698 · 2 days

Text

Under pressure pt6

synopsis: Upon joining the NYC firm as a new associate, you quickly find yourself facing the pressure of working under the firm’s star senior partner, Victoria neuman. With a reputation for excellence and an eye for potential, she was searching for a junior partner who can meet her exacting standards. You, with your impressive credentials and unwavering ambition, seemed like a perfect fit…until the pressure of meeting those high expectations started taking their toll.

Warnings: 18+ eventual smut, no use of (y/n), cursing, no describing reader’s appearance, explicit language, fluff, angst, teasing, hurt & comfort, power imbalance, slight AU, some similarities to cannon, mentions of the boys characters (Hughie), slight age gap, rival associates, young!reader, older!Victoria, slow-burn, infidelity.

Notes: Happy wednesday everyone how we feeling, new chapter let’s get itt. Loosely proofread because i’m fighting for my life trying to keep my eyes open lmao anyway have fun! also thanks for all the support i’ve been getting on this story so far muah you already know ily guys.

previous chapter

wc: 4k

Excitement filled the air. The firm had finally won a high-profile case that had been looming over them for months. As colleagues mingled and celebrated, you sat alone at a table in the corner, nursing a drink. The clinking glasses and laughter around you felt distant and hollow.

Your recent breakup left you feeling detached, and your frustration with Victoria’s role in your life had only added to your discontent. The moments you kept having, the kisses that neither of you even acknowledged openly made you feel so lost.

Victoria, in her element, was surrounded by colleagues, but her eyes frequently drifted towards you. She noticed your somber demeanor and felt a pang of concern. As the evening wore on, she approached you, a warm smile on her face.

“Congratulations on the win,” She said, her tone light, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes.

You barely looked up. “Thanks,” replying curtly, you took a sip of your drink. The bitterness of the alcohol mirroring your mood.

Her smile faltered. “You don’t seem very celebratory. Everything alright?”

You set down your glass, frustration boiling within. Under the influence of alcohol, you felt braver than usual. “How can you act like everything’s normal? You barge into my life, complicate everything, and now everything’s a mess. How am I-… I supposed to j-..ust ignore that?”

Victoria’s eyes widened in surprise she let out a nervous laugh. “What—”

“No, you don’t. You don’t get to act like nothing’s wrong,” You continued, your voice rising. “I don’t even know if you’re the reason for m’breakup or..or.. just a part of it, but y-..you.. have no idea how much you’ve messed with my head.” you slurred, taking a swing of your drink.

She took a step back, hurt and confused. “Wait hold on— I didn’t… I’m sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any pain.”

Your chest tightened, and you stood abruptly, your hand brushing past her as your shoulders bumped. "I need some fresh air." You left the bar, escaping the hum and buzz of the celebration.

Stepping out into the night, the city embraced you, the cool air wrapping around you like a blanket. “Hey wait up!” Victoria called out, “I didn’t know,” she said quietly. “Let’s talk about this.”

You heard her voice echoing through the night, though you didn’t turn, she caught up and stopped a few feet away from you, her presence soothing despite the tension. Your steps pausing when her hand landed gently on your shoulder, urging you to turn around and face her.

“I didn’t mean to be a complication. But I can’t deny how I feel. This is hard for me too you know…” She reached out, her hand gently cupping your jaw. “I’ve liked you from the moment you walked into the firm.” Her words were sincere, and the vulnerability in her eyes made your heart ache.

Your foreheads pressed against each other, your breath caught as you noticed how much you actually wanted her close. The warmth of her body against yours, the softness of her skin, brought you a sense of comfort and peace you hadn’t felt in a really long time.

You tried to pull away, to make it stop but you found it difficult to resist the closeness. “I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s…driving me crazy.” she confessed in a near-whisper, her eyes drifting shut.

Your throat constricted, and your heart pounded against your chest. "I don't even know what to say," you breathed, hardly audible as you nuzzled your nose into her cheek.

Victoria's voice was soft, yet assertive. The thick, charged air hung heavily, her trembling lips parting, "Just... be honest with me. What do you want?" You gulped, the words swirling in your head before you finally stammered, "I... I want you, Victoria."

For a moment, she stepped back, heart raced wildly, every nerve buzzing as you awaited her response. Your eyelids fluttering open meeting her gaze. Then, she moved towards you again, unable to contain her feelings any longer, she leaned in, your lips crashing together in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Time stopped as her lips devoured yours, stealing your breath in the most exhilarating way. Her firm grip around your waist tugged you closer, you reached up, gripping a handful of her soft hair, pulling her in while eagerly welcoming her touch. You held her close, clinging to her like a drowning man grasping for a lifesaver.

You groaned as you woke up to the sound of something vibrating against your hip. Your phone buzzed incessantly in your pocket, dragging you out of a deep, disoriented sleep. You shifted, trying to get comfortable, only to feel the ground beneath you. Wait… the ground?

With a sudden jolt, you realized you weren’t on the bed. You were instead on the floor, tangled in your blanket, half on the couch, half sprawled on the living room rug. Your head pounded, and you blinked in confusion as memories from the night before filtered back.

“Damn it,” you muttered, realizing you’d fallen asleep on the couch after downing one too many drinks at the celebration.

Your phone buzzed again, and you fumbled for it. It was already late—later than you’d ever intended to wake up. “Ugh, perfect start to the day,” you grumbled, throwing on some clothes as you dashed out the door.

By the time you stumbled into the firm, you were in rough shape. Your hair was a mess, your shirt half-tucked, and your eyes half-open. As you hurried down the hallway toward your desk, Hughie spotted you and couldn’t resist. “Whoa looks like you just crawled out of a dumpster,” He said with a snicker. “Rough night?”

You shot him a half-hearted glare, still rubbing your temples. “Not in the mood, Hughie.”

“Oh, come on. You look like you lost a fight with a tequila bottle,” He continued, laughing at his own joke. “Did you forget the firm’s rule about handling hangovers? ‘Fake it till you make it,’ ”

You ignored him, not willing to engage, and trudged toward your desk, hoping to make it through the day unnoticed. But that hope vanished when your phone buzzed with a message from Victoria. ‘My office. Now.’

Great, just what you needed.

You strode down the hallway, steeling yourself for another one of Victoria’s sharp critiques. When you stepped inside her office, she was sitting at her desk, paperwork in hand. Without looking up, she said “Rough morning?”

You opened your mouth to respond but stopped short when she glanced up at you. There was a hint of amusement in her eyes—something you weren’t expecting. Usually, she’d tear into you for showing up in this state, but instead, she just shook her head with a barely-contained smile.

“You look like death warmed over,” she commented, a slight laugh escaping her lips. Oh okay? thanks.. You rubbed the back of your neck, trying to play it off. “Yeah, I might have had one too many last night.”

“I can see that,” she replied, smirking. “Lucky for you, I’m in a good mood today.”

You raised an eyebrow, still waiting for the reprimand that was surely coming. But instead she leaned back in her chair, her expression softening for just a moment.

“Go freshen up. I’ve got a new case for you to handle, and I need you at your best,” she said, gesturing toward the door. “You’re not getting off easy just because you’re hungover.”

You gave her a sheepish nod. “Right. I’ll… I’ll get it together.” As you turned to leave, her voice followed you. Pausing, you glanced back over your shoulder.

“Next time, maybe lay off the tequila.”

You shook your head fighting back a smile, as you hurried to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in a desperate attempt to wake up. As you stared at your reflection, you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The pounding in your head was still there, but at least Victoria hadn’t ripped into you. That was a win, right?

By the time you returned to your desk, Hughie was still hanging around, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “You live to fight another day, huh?”

Rolling your eyes, you wryly replied, "Unfortunately, yes."

He stepped closer, his stupid grin unmoving. "Well, at least you're not fired. Small victories."

You let out a deep exasperated breath, shaking your head, fingers tapping impatiently against the keyboard. "Can you just let me work, will you?"

His grin widened, raising his arms in a mock surrender. "Don't let me stop you." With that, he finally left storming off down the hallway.

It was an early—afternoon, now with your head a little clearer and some coffee in your system, you dove into the case Victoria had assigned you with. Staring down at the files she’d tossed onto your desk earlier that morning.

The case involved a shady luxury real estate developer suspected of embezzling millions, and conducting some “off the books” transactions. The firm needed someone to gather intel, and for some reason, she had chosen you to go undercover—with her, you of all people.

The sun shone brightly as you adjusted your blazer, standing outside the grand apartment building in Manhattan’s Upper East Side. You glanced over at Victoria, who was effortlessly playing the part of your upscale, your sophisticated “Wife.”She looked stunning, as usual, in a chic, tailored outfit that screamed elegance. The glint in her eyes suggested she was already a step ahead of you.

The plan was simple enough: pose as a married couple looking for a luxury apartment in an upscale building. You would snoop around, strike up casual conversations with the real estate agents, and see what you could uncover. Seemed straightforward… right? Except… playing pretend with Victoria wasn’t exactly something you’d been prepared for.

“Well, Ms. Adams,” Victoria said in a playful tone, slipping her arm through yours. “Shall we see if this place is up to our standards?”

You smirked, your nerves only slightly getting the better of you. “Let’s hope the kitchen has an island. You know how I can’t live without one.”

She chuckled softly as you made your way inside the pristine lobby. You were greeted by a sharply dressed agent, who led you through the gleaming corridors, talking up the amenities of the building. you felt a small jolt of tension every time Victoria’s arm brushed against yours.

Inside the apartment, you played your roles seamlessly. She wandered around with the air of a woman used to luxury, commenting on the layout while you made subtle inquiries about the building’s other residents, dropping casual hints to pry for information. But as much as you tried to focus on the case, you found your mind wandering to how convincingVictoria was as your partner.

At one point, she turned to you with a playful grin. “What do you think, darling? Does this place scream ‘home sweet home’?”

Darling..

You chuckled nervously, trying to stay in character. “It’s perfect… but we might need more closet space. You know how you can never resist buying another pair of shoes.”

She raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “Oh, I think we’ll manage. I’m sure we’ll have plenty of room to grow.”

There was a subtle, almost flirtatious tension in her words, and for a split second, your mind went blank. You quickly recovered, though the blush creeping up your neck was harder to hide. The agent, oblivious to the undercurrent between you, continued his tour.

As you finally left the building, you felt your pulse quicken. You shot a sidelong glance at Victoria, still trying to figure out what had just unraveled between you during the tour. “Is it just me,” you started, hesitating for a moment, “or did we get a little too into character back there?”

She looked at you with a bemused expression. “What’s the matter? I thought you enjoyed playing house.”

“Playing house?” You repeated, your brow furrowing as you stepped out onto the sidewalk. “You were practically flirting in there.”

Her lips twitched with amusement, her eyes glinting. “We’re supposed to be a married couple, aren’t we? It’s called method acting.” She winked at you playfully, and you found yourself momentarily speechless.

“Method acting, right,” you muttered, rubbing the back of your neck. “You were really committed.”

Victoria shot you a sideways glance, an impish smile playing on her lips. “You weren’t so bad yourself. If this lawyer thing doesn’t work out, we can always give Hollywood a try.”

You scoffed, still flustered. Before you could respond, a cab pulled up, and Victoria slid in gracefully, motioning for you to follow. You were still trying to process what had happened inside the building when she quipped, “By the way, you might want to work on your romantic banter. You nearly broke character back there.”

You stared at her, momentarily caught off guard, before letting out a soft laugh. “I’ll keep that in mind next time we’re… married.”

She smirked, settling back into the seat as the cab began to move. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to embarrass me.”

As the cab weaved through traffic, you glanced out the window, still feeling the lingering tension between you. The case was far from over, and yet your mind wasn’t entirely on the mission. She had a way of throwing you off balance—making you question things you’d never even considered. And for your life, you couldn’t figure out why you liked it so much.

The following days blended by seamlessly, and you found yourself standing in front of a mirror in a dimly lit room adjacent to the bar, fixing your hair, you wore a casual, square collar midi dress that hugged your curves perfectly. You know.. just something suitable for posing as the attorney of a notorious criminal, nothing too extreme. You honestly don’t even know how you got to this point but here you are, going undercover was your new thing apparently.

Your hands were slightly shaking, not from fear but from the weight of what’s about to unfold. This was new, something you’ve never thought you’d do. The client you’re meeting tonight isn’t just any dangerous criminal—he’s one of the most famous mob bosses in the city. The firm was using this opportunity to extract critical information about his operations, something the police haven’t been able to do for years.

As you struggled adjusting your dress, Victoria enters the room, clipboard in hand, wearing a confident smirk. She’s there not just as your handler but also to ease your tension. She walks up to you, scanning your outfit with an assessing look.

She steps forward, her fingers brushing the fabric of your dress as she helps you tuck in the wires for the surveillance equipment. Her touch is brief but electric, causing you to stiffen slightly. You tried to focus, but the closeness between you only makes it worse.

“You look like you’re about to argue a case in court, not meet a mob boss. Loosen up.”

Victoria steps even closer, her eyes narrowing as she ensures none of the wires were visible. Your heartbeat quickens as her cool fingers graze your neck.

You spoke half-joking, “Aren’t we supposed to be keeping things low-key? I feel like I’m being wired to take down a casino.”

Victoria chuckled. “You are. But you don’t have to look like it. Try to relax—if you don’t, he’ll sense something’s off the moment he sees you.”

Your eyes darted to Victoria's lips as she spoke, a quiet snicker escaped you. "You're enjoying this way too much," you whispered, barely audible. Your breath caught in your throat as her fingers deftly tucked the wire into the edge of your bra skillfully concealing it.

A moment of silence passed between you, and your gaze locked with hers. Your heart raced, air barely reaching your lungs. She grinned, her lips curving into a teasing smile, “Just making sure you don’t blow our cover. Can’t have you getting arrested for looking suspicious before the real action starts.”

She finishes securing the wire and steps back, giving you one last look-over. There’s another beat of silence as you stood face-to-face. You inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself before exiting the room.

Before heading into the bar, Victoria explains the stakes again, though you already knew them by heart. The client, Anthony Romano, is the leader of a dangerous criminal organization involved in everything from illegal arms deals to racketeering. His lawyers have been shielding him for years, but now they’ve slipped up.

A recent FBI raid uncovered documents implicating him, and the firm is stepping in under the guise of providing legal support. Your job is to act as his attorney, earn his trust, and get him to reveal information they can use against him.

She continues briefing you, her tone more serious than it was earlier. “Romano’s not stupid. He’s been in this business for decades. One wrong move, one misplaced word, and he’ll know something’s up. The police want him behind bars, but the firm needs him to slip up first.”

“And if he doesn’t?”

“Then we try again. But tonight is our best shot. Just keep him talking about the case—his recent charges, the way the FBI’s closing in. He’s paranoid, and if you feed that paranoia, he might let something slip.”

Victoria gives you a firm look, and you nod, your focus returning, as you straightened up your posture taking in a deep breath.

“Look I trust you…we all do. You’ve got this. And if you get in trouble, I’m right here, listening in. Just keep your cool.” she spoke her tone softening.

“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one meeting a mob boss.” you smiled wryly.

She chuckles softly, a hint of admiration in her eyes as she steps aside, allowing you to head into the bar.

Once there, you scanned the room. The lighting is dim, the air thick with the scent of expensive whiskey and cigars. Romano isn’t here yet, which gives you a moment to settle at a table, order a drink, and mentally prepare. You adjusted the wire under your dress once more, ensuring everything is in place.

Victoria’s voice crackles softly in your ear through the earpiece. “Martini? Seriously? You know we’re trying to blend in, not stand out, right?”

You smirked, taking a sip of your drink. “You were the one who said to loosen up. Besides, it’s not like Romano’s going to care about my drink order.”

“Just don’t get too comfortable. Remember, you’re a hotshot lawyer, not some secret agent spy.”

You can hear the subtle amusement in her voice, but you stayed focused on the task at hand. Your fingers tap rhythmically on the table, eyes darting to the door every few seconds, waiting for him to arrive.

After a few moments, the bar door swings open, and Anthony Romano walks in. He’s taller than you expected, with a commanding presence that instantly silences the room. Suddenly a wave of anxiety washed through you as his bodyguards flanked him before he made his way toward your table, sitting down across from you with a cold, assessing gaze.

He wastes no time getting to business, his eyes sharp and distrustful. He leans forward, his voice a low growl. “So, you’re the one they sent to fix this mess?” His tone was mocking as his gaze roved over your body.

You nod, keeping your expression neutral, trying to remember all the points Victoria drilled into you earlier. Shifting uncomfortably in your seat, you inhaled a deep breath before responding. “That’s right. I’ve looked over the documents the FBI confiscated—there’s a lot to work with, but it’s going to take some time to find the right approach. We’re going to need to be patient.”

Romano narrows his eyes, his suspicion evident, “Patient? I don’t have time for patience. I need results.”

You felt a bead of sweat forming at the back of your neck, but you don’t let it show. You force a confident smile, channeling your inner courtroom demeanor. “Trust me, you want us to take our time with this. If we rush, we miss things, and that’s how they win. We can make this case go away, but we need to play it smart.”

Just as you were getting into rhythm, Victoria’s voice buzzes in your ear again, dripping with playful sarcasm. “Smooth. Really smooth. Almost had me convinced there.”

You nearly choked on your drink, but you manage to keep a straight face. Romano doesn’t notice, but the brief distraction causes your mind to race. You take another sip, using the drink as an excuse to pause, while Victoria continues her teasing.

“Just try not to smile. He’s not going to confess if you look like you’re having fun.”

Romano, still unaware of the wire, continues talking about the legal mess he’s in, mentioning the FBI raid, the missing documents, and his frustrations with his current legal team. You listen carefully, trying to pull as much information as possible from the conversation while ignoring Victoria’s occasional jabs.

Eventually, he lets slip more than he intended. He casually mentions an associate who “took care of things” during the raid, revealing just enough for the police to move in.

Suddenly, the bar erupts into chaos. Plainclothes officers, previously hidden among the patrons, move in. Romano’s bodyguards react immediately, but they’re outnumbered. His eyes widen as the handcuffs are slapped onto his wrists.

You stood up, watching as Romano gets escorted out, your heart pounding in your chest. You let out a sigh of relief the operation was a success the pressure is gone and Romano is caught, and your part in the case is over— at least for now.

Soon Victoria walks into the bar, her lips curling into a satisfied grin. “You know, you’re not too bad at this, though I didn’t peg you for someone who could talk business and order a martini at the same time.”

You let out a long breath, shaking your head. “I thought I was going to blow it for a second there.”

She steps closer, her teasing tone returning. “Well, you did almost smile in the middle of a confession. But, other than that, you were perfect.”

You frowned, scoffing. "What? how could you even—"

She cut you off, walking away without looking back. "I just know."

You shook your head in amusement, before following her towards the exit. As you stepped outside the bar, the tension finally eases. Casting a glance at her, you notice the shared relief etched on her face.

"Hey listen.. how about we uh, debrief somewhere..." You trailed off, your eyes meeting hers, hints of a smile playing at your lips. "My place? This time, with a proper drink?"

Her eyebrow arches, amusement flickering in her gaze. "A proper drink, huh?" She replies, her eyes sparkling with humor. You watch as a delicate smirk tugs at her lips, making your heart flutter. "Sounds like a plan," she agrees, gesturing for you to lead.

Your own smile widens, and you extend an arm signaling for a cab to pull up, you open the door for Victoria, a thrill coursing through you as you slid in behind her, eager to see how the night would unfold.

#lgbtq #victoria neuman #the boys #victoria neuman x reader #victoria neuman x you #fluff #au #hughie campbell

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yrluvjane · 6 months

Text

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝑰𝑰

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - James deals with feelings, and you fall ill after hearing the rumours spread about you of the day before, leaving you under his care.》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

As James sat in his office, surrounded by a sea of paperwork and reports, all waiting for his signature, he couldn't help but think about you. Despite the relentless pressure of the approaching deadline, you kept popping up in his mind like a persistent siren, demanding his attention.

There was something about you that James found intriguing, something that made him want to get to know you better, to understand what it was that made him feel this way. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but there was something about you that kept drawing him in - a spark, perhaps, or a certain sparkle that shone through in everything you did.

Maybe James was hallucinating, maybe it was just the rays of the sun shining over you but even then, he had met many beautiful women throughout his life, but there was something about you that set you apart, a certain inner light that made you special and captivating.

James had always felt like he was a passenger in his own life, watching the days and weeks and months go by with no real sense of purpose. He tried to go with the flow and make the best of what he had, but deep down he knew it wasn't enough. He longed for something deeper and more meaningful, but was too afraid to take the risk and step out of his comfort zone.

He was stuck in this limbo of uncertainty, unsure of what to do and who to be. The only thing he knew for sure was that he wanted something more, something different, something like you.

He remembered how your eyes shined in the afternoon sun, and the connection that he felt to you that he couldn't quite put his finger on. James' thoughts drifted off, lost in the memory of that day in the garden, feeling a twinge of regret for not pursuing things further.

He wondered what could have been, if he had been braver and taken a chance on you and he couldn't help but smile to himself, imagining what could have been, but before he could fully indulge in his thoughts, he registered the clicking sound of heels approaching his door. With a groan of resignation, he prepared himself to entertain another one of Marge's ramblings.

As the door opened, the noise of the crowded office poured in, threatening to disrupt the peace and quiet of his own space. With a deep sigh, he took a deep breath and listened.

“It’s your dad.” She says.

"Hello?" He says, a big smile spreading across his face. "Dad!" He says, his voice overflowing with joy. "How are you?" He asks, his mind already racing with all the questions he has for his father. James listens intently as his father speaks, taking in every word and relishing in the sound of his voice.

His father is always there for him, no matter what, and that feeling of connection and security is indescribable. Even now, when he is older and wiser, James can't help but feel grateful for his father's constant love and support, and he knows that he's lucky to have someone who has been such a guiding force in his life.

And so James decides to share his moment with you with his father, feeling a sense of relief as he does so.

The moment his son is done talking, Fleamont turns to his wife, full knowing she will be very interested in what he’s about to say. “What is it, Fleamont? Is he alright?”

"I think James fancies someone." he whispers, looking at her in disbelief. Euphemia's expression immediately softens and she breaks into a joyful grin. This was the first time Fleamont had witnessed his son developing a romantic interest, and it was a sight to behold.

Yes, James has had intimate relationships with women before but even though James didn’t admit to feeling something for this girl. Fleamont knew better, he can’t recall a time in his life where James had described someone in such a picturesque way.

"She's like a sunrise on a cold winter morning - she just lights up the whole room. Though very direct and sharp, definitely not someone you'd want to go head to head with."

"Ever smelled Jasmines before? Bloody irresistible. It's like she's walking around with a bouquets of them,"

Euphemia, not one to be kept out of the loop when it comes to her son's love life, immediately grabbed her phone and began to pester Sirius for information. She was eager to know who this girl was and how long James had been keeping her a secret. She knew that James held a special place in his heart for Sirius, the raven-haired boy who had been a constant presence in his life and was a brother to him and a son to her.

She was sure that if James were to confide in anyone about his romantic interests, it would be with Sirius. So you could imagine Euphemia’s surprise when she found out that Sirius was just as clueless as she was. Who was this girl that had caught James' attention? She wondered.

However, on the other side, James was completely oblivious to the fact that his previous actions would have an impact on your life. He never considered the consequences of his gestures, which would rather sooner than later turn your world upside down, leaving you to get burned and pick up the pieces.

The next day, you tried to downplay the whole thing when your friends had asked about him. They had seen the flowers and had immediately assumed that something more was going on between you. You had spent the better hour of an afternoon denying they were nothing more than that, Flowers.

They grilled you for hours, probing for any “juicy” detail they could get, and you truly did your best to avoid the topic. They continued to pester you about the man who butted himself into your life and you couldn't help but feel a sense of irritation.

In the end, you were left feeling exhausted and vulnerable, as though your personal boundaries had been completely trampled on by the curiosity of your friends. Your feelings towards James were a complex web of emotions, neither good nor bad, neither right nor wrong.

James was a charming and charismatic man, and so it was natural to feel a deep and intense attraction towards him, but at the same time, there was a sense of apprehension, a feeling of uncertainty that you couldn't quite shake. Your friends' incessant questioning only served to inflame that feeling of confusion and frustration.

And for some inexplicable reason, it felt as though James was a deeply private matter, and one that you, yourself, didn’t quite understand and would only be revealed on your own terms, when you were ready.

It felt as if they were pressuring you to make sense of something that wasn’t really there. So, you did the only thing you could think of - you changed the subject, or else found a way to distract them long enough for the topic to be forgotten.

The day after, when you walk into the kitchen, ready to start your shift, you can feel the tension in the air. There's an awkward silence when you enter the kitchen. You keep catching your colleagues exchanging looks and whispering to each other, but no one seems to want to talk to you and dismissive when you try to start a conversation.

No one speaks to you.

They avoid your eyes and whisper to each other in hushed tones. You try to break the silence with a cheerful, "Hey, good morning," but no one responds.

All they do is mutter and shoot you dirty looks and it may be the dramatic side of your brain talking but it almost felt like the whole world was against you, and you don't know what you did.

You move towards Tina, who was one the first people you met when you first started and as such you considered her a dear friend. She’s standing over the cutting board, busily preparing carrots.Her hair is pulled up in it’s usual tight bun. "Hey,," you call out quietly, hoping to avoid the attention of others, "Do you have a minute?" She looks up at you, her eyes cold.

"I’m busy." she replies, her tone sharper and more clipped than the pins used to keep her hair in place.. Your heart sinks, and you try to ignore the disappointment rising within you. Trying to keep your head down and do your work, but it's difficult to focus when everyone around you seems to be avoiding you like the plague.

It's like you're a ghost, invisible and repelling all forms of life.

You feel like you could scream. Why is everyone treating you like this?

All you want is some answers, and it seems no one is willing to give them to you. Feeling desperate, you decide to approach a more level-headed colleague, Mary. You approach her and try to appear confident, even though you feel anything but. "Hey, Mary," you say, trying to sound casual. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Mary turns to look at you, her eyes lighting up with kindness. "Of course, what's up?" She sends a soft smile at you, warm and welcoming a contrast to how everyone has been to you.

“Is it me, or does everyone seem a bit..closed off?” You try. And subconsciously take a step back when you see Mary’s smile falter for a second. Her brows furrow and it takes little convincing to pass off the look she gives you as pity. She looks at the rest of the crew who all seem to be eyeing her from the corner of their eyes, sending her warning glares like pariah’s eyeing their lunch. And in a fight or flight manner, you snap towards everyone with a glare, daring them to say something. Most go back to focusing on their own work, the minority left have the courage to look back at you and meet your stare.

“Need help with something?” You offer. If your voice was once a warm fire that encouraged laughs and jokes then now it was an icicle, just as cold, just as sharp.

Mary's expression softens as she sees the concern in your eyes, when you turn back to her. She takes a deep breath and tries to maintain a calm demeanor, even as her own worries begin to surface. "It's not just you," she says softly. "I think–" Her eyes seemed to lock on something and you watched her bite her lips. “Come with me.” She says, her eyes boring into yours as she sends a heated glare to someone behind you.

You notice the tension in Mary's expression and you start to feel a pit forming in your stomach. Her tone is crisp, and you can tell that she has something urgent to say. You take a deep breath as you follow her out through the corridor, away from the others. Her pace is quick, and you almost struggle to keep up with her as she marches ahead. "What's going on, Mary?" you ask, feeling a sense of unease washing over you.

“Yesterday, Mr. Potter gave you flowers.” She says and your eyes widen in shock. How did she know that? You wondered, it was definitely not the answer you had expected when you walked out here and when your lips parted so you could voice your thoughts, she spoke again, answering your question as though she read your mind.

“There are words going around,” she explained. “Some are saying you and Mr. Potter are…” Mary paused for a moment, “having affairs..” Her eyes are watching you carefully, as if searching for a reaction.

You take a deep breath, trying to keep your composure, and you look at Mary with a mix of emotions written all over your face. "Having affairs?" you scoff, your voice barely above a whisper. Mary pauses, her eyes locked on yours. After what feels like an eternity, she finally speaks, her voice soft and almost whispery. "They say that he favors you in an...intimate perspective." Her eyes seem to bore into yours with that, as though she's trying to see into the depths of your soul.

A strange fusion of guilt and fear wash over you. You can't even imagine what it would be like to be intimate with Mr. Potter, but the thought alone sends shivers down your spine. You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves, and you hold her gaze, trying to be as calm and composed as possible.

"That’s bullshit," you say breathlessly, it almost comes out like a silent whisper, "Nothing happened. The flower pot he gave me was a leftover from the stock bought to decorate the pool."

You feel yourself getting more and more agitated as Mary continues to talk. You don't know why, but the idea that people are talking about you and Mr. Potter, saying that you're having affairs? Who says “having affairs”?! and even…you can't even bring yourself to finish her sentence in your head. If word gets out about this, that dream of getting fired might just come true.

At that you start getting dizzy, your heart is beating faster and faster, and you feel like you're about to pass out. Calm down. Take a deep breath. Everything is going to be okay. You tell yourself, trying to steady your shaking hands. In and out. In and out. You breathe in deeply, then let your breath out slowly, trying to calm yourself down. In and out. You don't even realize that you've started chanting those words to yourself, trying to ground yourself in the present moment.

"Mary, what are they saying?" you manage to say, your voice weak and hoarse. You know that they're talking about you, you can feel it. You can feel their eyes on you, their judgement weighing heavy on your shoulders. You’ve heard it once but you have to hear it again. It’s like your mind refuses to acknowledge this truth. You don’t want to believe this, you don’t even want to go anywhere near it, it’s like a nightmare. One you wish someone would wake you up from.

"What are they saying?" you repeat, this time a little louder, a little stronger. Mary squeezes your waist gently, as if to comfort you, and you hear her speak. "They're saying that you're having an affair with Mr. Potter," she says softly, as if it hurts even to say the words.

So you heard it right.

You feel a cold chill run down your spine, and you're not sure if you can handle this. You're not sure if you can handle this. The shame, the embarrassment. W-what would your mother say if she heard about this? You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "It's not true," you say this time louder. "I-I mean -They're lying!"

“I know.” She says softly into your ear.

You try to steady yourself, but the world is spinning around you and you feel as if you're going to collapse. Your vision is blurred, and you can barely see anything in front of you. You struggle to take a deep breath, but you feel as if you're suffocating. Mary’s voice rings out in your ears. You feel her arms wrap around you to help keep you standing.

And then, just as suddenly as it started, everything goes black, and you lose consciousness.

You blink your eyes open, and you feel a sense of disorientation as you try to adjust to your situation.

You lie in silence for a moment, drinking in your surroundings. You notice the large and well-appointed room. It was a beautiful room, with ornate wood paneling and large windows that overlooked a beautiful landscape.

The sun was low and shining through the windows, casting a warm and inviting glow onto the room. The bed is made with crisp white sheets, and the AC hums quietly in the background, cooling the air to just the right temperature.

You take a deep breath, feeling your shoulders relax for the first time in ages. You start to wonder where you are, how you got here, and most importantly: who brought you here? You sit up slowly, letting your eyes adjust to the soft lighting in the room as your brain tries to catch up to what's going on.

You're brought back to reality by the feel of a hand on your shoulder, and you jump, startled. You turn to find Olivia, standing next to you, her face a mixture of concern and relief. "You're awake!" she exclaims, and you smile, feeling a sense of warmth settling over you. “What happened?” You asked, clutching your head to try and prevent the brewing headache threatening to occur.

"Are you alright? Do you remember anything?" Olivia's voice was soft, her voice calming. She squeezed your shoulder. "You're awake, which is good. You've been unconscious for a little while, you passed out. Mary caught you before you hit the ground and Anders told us to move you here." She spoke with a comforting tone, her hand rubbing your shoulder reassuringly. “I should probably go and call for him.” She said,

You blinked owlishly as Olivia quickly excused herself, her pace brisk as she left to go and call the butler. Just as she closed the door behind her, you heard a knock on the door, and you looked up to see Anders enter the room.

“Hey, um...where am I?” You asked, getting up and lying back on a bunch of huddled up pillows. "You're in one of the guestrooms," Anders replied. "Mr. Potter asked to relocate you here after he heard of your fall. I must say, it was quite disturbing to see you like that."

You felt a sense of embarrassment at the thought of fainting in front of everyone, "Thank you for uhm-..helping me," you said."It's no problem. We're just glad to have you back. Are you feeling better now?" he asked, the concern clear in his voice and unintentionally reminding you that everyone is still talking behind your back and your little fainting spell would be like trying to dow out a forest fire with gasoline.

“Just tired.” You responded, laying a hand on your forehead and closing your heavy eyelids; hyper aware of how soft the sheets are and the warmth of the duvet draped over you; a sense of peace settling in.

You hear a soft knock on the door, and you groan and yawn as you roll over to your side, stretching like a cat as you rub the sleep from your eyes. You couldn't help but feel the usual sense of tiredness as you slowly started to rise; your body feeling sluggish and tired. You looked at the clock and realized that you had slept again and this time for hours and it was already the evening. “Come in!” You say, eyes trained on the ticking clock as you jolt up.

In walks Mr. Potter, tray in hand and look of concern etched on his face. His eyes softened with a sheepish smile, "I've brought you some tea and toast—not much, I know, but it hopefully will help you feel better." He sets the tray down on the small table by the bed, his manner warm and comforting.

"Take a bite. It might lift your spirit," Mr. Potter suggests, his deep voice carrying a tone of genuine concern. He hands you the steaming mug, his eyes locked on yours, awaiting your answer. You take the mug less out of politeness and more out of fear.

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Do you need me to call a doctor?"

Your words come out weak and hoarse, but you manage to get the message across. "No, I just... I feel dizzy, and my head hurts," you say, closing your eyes, hoping for the room to stop spinning.

He rushes to your side, helping you sit up, before gently stroking your hair back from your forehead, "Can I get you anything? Some water, maybe?" You can't help but feel a warmth spread through your chest as his hand brushes the hair away from your face. His cologne is strong and masculine, filling your nostrils with an addictive and sophisticated aroma.

Oh my God, stop it! You chastise yourself.

You sit up a bit, taking a sip of the tea and nibbling on the toast. The toast is warm and buttery, and the tea is soothing and calm. The warm brew soothes your throat and warms your insides, bringing a sense of calmness that you desperately need.

James smiles back, "I'm glad to hear that. Would you like anything else? Some fruit maybe, or some more tea? I just want to make sure you're comfortable."

"I’m good," you say, smiling awkwardly. "Thank you."

"Are you sure everything is alright, darling?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours. You felt your heart skip a beat at the nickname and of what he was going to ask. "Sure, of course," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

He raises a brow, unconvinced with your answer.

"Just some work-related stress."

James's gaze was focused on you, his face a picture of concern. "Well, if you ever do need anything, I'm here for you," he assured you, his voice soft and comforting.

“Thank you, Mr–”

“James...please. Call me James.”

"Thanks, James," you replied, a small smile crossing your face. "That ...means a lot." James smiled back, "Of course," he said. The sound of the ticking clock abruptly shattered the stillness of the room, causing you to gasp as you suddenly remembered the passing of time. "Shoot!" you exclaimed, frantically throwing the quilt aside and hastily placing the tea on the nearby tray. "I've got to go!" you added, your voice laced with urgency.

James stood up, bewildered by the sudden change in your behavior. “Why? Is something wrong?” he asked, worry clearly etched on his face. “It’s eleven! Why didn’t you wake me?” you exclaimed, eyes wide with shock as you began frantically running around the room. Scrambling to find your shoes, James watched with wide-eyed confusion, asking, “What’s going on? I’m so lost.”

"It's eleven! Everything is probably already closed now!" you said, desperation and panic evident in your voice as you searched for your shoes. Suddenly, you noticed that James was holding them, and you immediately let out a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you so much." you said, taking them from him.

"Is Anders still here?" You asked as you hurriedly put your shoes on. The sound of your heartbeat pounding in your ears, drowning out the sound of James taking a nervous step forward. “Uhm no, he usually leaves at ten,” James replied, his voice barely above a whisper. You sigh in defeat and throw yourself back on the bed. “Can I ask why?” he continued, taking another step closer, his eyes searching your face as you covered it with your hands. “I was going to ask him if he could give me a ride,” you answered, your voice muffled.

"I told Anders you could stay for the night." James stated, a slight edge to his voice as he backed up a step. You bolted upright, eyes widened in horror. "No!" you cried, your words tumbling out in a panicked rush. "No, no, no, no! I can't stay here. The others, they..." Your words trailed off, the image of their judgmental frowns dancing behind your closed eyelids, threatening to send you spiraling into a coma before you could even finish the thought.

Despite your protests, James stood firm, "You're staying here," he insisted, his tone brooking no argument. Taken aback by the suddenness of the force of his tone, you froze, your mind racing as you tried to guess at his intentions.

With a heavy sigh, James continued, his voice softer now as he sat down on the edge of the bed. "Look, I understand that this isn't ideal. But I promise you, you're safe here.”

"I- I’m fine," you stutter out, your voice barely louder than a whisper at his words, at the sweetness of it at the concern stretched between his eyebrows. James' brows furrow in discontent as he takes in your words, and for a moment there is a tense silence between you. But he quickly recovers, and his expression becomes determined.

"Then at least let me drive you home."

You are struck dumb by these words, and you don't move for a moment as you try to process what is happening. But before you have a chance to respond, you have given James your arm and you watch as he leads you rapidly towards the door. He's not waiting for an answer, he's making a decision for both of you.

And less than five minutes later, you find yourself standing outside, feeling the cold air brush against your skin. The night is quiet, truly silent. You can’t even hear the sound of traffic with how far you are from the town. You look up at the sky and at the stars, how they’re sprinkled like splattered paint over a black canvas. The sound of an engine in the distance breaks your trance and you look down squinting your eyes at the bright light shining from the car’s headlights.

The sleek black car glides into the driveway, its exhaust leaving a faint smell of fuel in the air. You watch as James climbs out of the driver's seat and walks up to you. He has his hands placed under both your arms, steadying you as though he was afraid you would roll down the stairs without his support. You mentally scoff, you maybe a klutz but even you won’t embarrass yourself to that degree.

He walks you to the passenger side of the car and opens the door for you. Your gaze is pulled back to the car itself, and you can't help but marvel at its beauty - probably at the cost of your entire apartment building itself. James seems to notice your fascination, and he gives you a small smile.

“It’s cold.” He whispers and you snort as you bow your head, feeling a wave of warmth wash over you as you enter the car and close the door behind you. The car's interior is warm and comfortable, and you sink into the soft leather seats with a sigh of relief. James enters, sending you the most adorable welcoming of smiles, as he pulls away from the extravagant driveway. You watch the streetlights fly by through the window, getting a sense of disorientation as the world around you blurs.

"Are you ok?" James asks, breaking the silence. His voice is low and concerned, and you can hear the worry in his words. You ask that alot you want to say but opt for a nod instead, not trusting yourself to speak, and he reaches across the car to pat your leg reassuringly, giving you a gentle squeeze. It's a small gesture, but it makes you feel a little better. You sit in silence as James drives, the only noise coming from the hum of the engine and the occasional click of the turn signal.

The tension between you is palpable, and you wonder what James is thinking. Is he as nervous as you are? Is he trying to work out what to say to you?

James seems to sense your unease, and he breaks the silence with a sudden question. "So... What really happened today?" he asks, his voice low and curious. STOP asking! You want to yell, but you can’t really do that when the man is driving you home. You take a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts.

"I don't know," you reply, your voice wavered. "I found out about something and I just…" James nods at your silence, as if he understands. "I can understand that," he says, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. "Sometimes life can be a little overwhelming, can't it?"

You watch him through the reflection on the window and nod, feeling a sense of thankfulness towards him for not pushing. "Yes, it can be. Sometimes it feels like everything is just a little too much."

"I know what you mean," James says softly. "But you need to remember you're not alone. That there’s someone there, y’know. And if you ever feel overwhelmed you can come to me." You pull your head away from the window and face James with parted lips. His eyes seemed to be just as shocked as you are as he stared at you. He quickly faces the road once more and pulls in a deep breath.

“Thank you.” You say into the silence. It's a small comfort, but in that moment, it means the world to you.

Half an hour later, you find yourself pointing towards a building in the distance. The street is quiet and lifeless, with only a few distant lights to break the darkness as James parks the car in front of the tall building. You're not sure what to say, how to express the feelings that are swirling inside you.

"Come on," he says, "Let's get you inside." You want to object but the warmth from the touch of his hands is addicting. It has you leaning on him as he leads you towards the building. “Do you want me to help you up?” He asks and you stare at him with furrowed brows, parted lips and eyes heavy with sleep. You nod and James doesn’t even hesitate to have his arms wrapped around you as he helps you up each step, patient and alert as he guides you up the stairs and carries your weight.

However, he seems awkward now that you're outside the door to your apartment, it’s silent, and there’s no other sound than the rattling of your keys as you turn them and unlock the lock. “Wait here.” You say, and James blinks for a moment in confusion, tilting his head to the side before nodding, watching as you walk in and leave him outside. He’s nervous and sweaty, and he reeks of anxiety as he bounces his leg, rehearsing what he’s trying to say. When your door opens once more, you’re in a robe and holding a small transparent box of what looks like doughnuts.

“A thank you.” You say and James involuntarily smiles at the gift, shaking his head. “Can’t take it,”

“Why not?” You ask and there is a dopey smile on your face as you lean against the door frame. “Don’t deserve it.” He says and you snort, rolling your eyes and you push the box between his hands. “If you don’t take it, you’re practically insulting me and I don't think you can be mean to someone who was sick.”

“You passed out, out of stress and not illness.” He says grinning and you feel butterflies fluttering or biting in your stomach as he leans a hand on the door, so that his face is much closer to yours. “Same thing. Take the doughnuts, Potter, and say ‘thank you’. It’s not that hard.” You respond, taking a step closer and matching his smile.

James takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on the back of it, “Thank you.” He says and you immediately feel all hot and fluttery. It’s like you're wearing hundreds of layers of clothes on the hottest day of the year.

“You’re welcome.” You breathe out and even though the conversation is over, you both still stand there like birds on a traffic stop waiting for the other to say or do something.

For a moment, the silence is awkward, and you're not sure of what action to take. But then, James breaks it.

His voice is low and somewhat unsure, his previous confidence as solid as water as he stands tall once more; but he still speaks clearly and directly. You subconsciously stand straight as well, feeling as though this conversation was going to be serious.

"... I've been thinking about you a lot lately. I don't know why, but for some reason, I just am"

You listen intently, trying to process what he's saying. He leans down, placing the treats you gave him gently on the ground and You have no idea what's coming next, but then he surprises you by taking your hand in his. Your eyes grow wide and you can’t help but feel dumb and speechless as you stare at your joined hands. James looks at you, his expression serious and determined but there is a nervousness hiding behind his glasses. He takes a deep breath and then asks, "Would you go out with me?...On a date that is."

You're taken aback by the suddenness of the question, but you find yourself nodding slowly. "I'd like that." You can see the relief and happiness spread across James' face, and he gives you a warm smile. "I was hoping you'd say yes. You’re off on Tuesday’s, right? Can I pick you up from here at 6?" He asks and you nod again, feeling a sense of warmth and giddiness spread throughout your body. “That sounds great.”

As James takes another step towards you, you start to feel a mixture of excitement and unease. You want to be close to him, you do, you really do, but you also feel like you're on the edge of a cliff, like one wrong move could send everything tumbling down. The looks of your colleagues flash in front of you, and you involuntarily take a step back.

James senses your apprehension, and he stops in his tracks. He looks at you with a mixture of concern and understanding, as if he knows exactly what you're feeling.

"Is something wrong?" he asks gently.

You try to gather your thoughts. "I don't know," you say, your voice a screen to your worries. "I just feel... I don't know. Like this is all too much and…too fast, like I may not be ready for this type of thing." You're suddenly aware of your rushed agreement to his proposal, and the butterflies that were once in your stomach turn to poisonous snakes.

James nods, "That's ok," he says quietly. "We don't have to rush into anything. We can take it slow, if that's what you want."

For a moment, there is silence between the two of you, filled with a mixture of uncertainty and possibility. And then, before you know it, James is closing the distance between you once again, his fingers brushing against yours, his face just inches away from yours. You think that he might kiss you and you're not sure of what you’re feeling but you’re sure of the desire, the craving for his touch but at the same time the logical part of you is yelling for you to pull away to warn you that this was going to burn you in the end.

It's a moment that feels like an eternity and a heartbeat all at once, and just when you think you can't possibly bear it any longer, James leans in and kisses your forehead. It's a soft, gentle kiss, filled with a mixture of hesitance and care, and for a moment, the stress you’ve been carrying the whole day seems to melt away.

As he draws apart, you feel a sense of relief and happiness wash over you, like drinking chilled water after you've just finished a marathon.

“Feel better, okay?”

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