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satzumosupremacy · 1 year ago

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Elite Bodyguard Series: Pt.10

Desperation

Male reader x Jeon Somi

Tags: Smut, literally face fucking, daddy kink

2.8k Words

You have a history with Somi. Back when you were a freshly new bodyguard, she repeatedly sought out your services. Regardless of whether the close relationship you shared with her is just a distant memory for you, she still thinks of you from time to time—perhaps more often than you'd expect. And here you are, reminiscing about the old days and walking in front of Somi as she follows behind.

“Oppa, y’know my song was inspired by you.”

“Fast Forward?”

There’s a reason why Somi isn’t your client anymore—she switched agencies, that’s the only reason. You advanced quickly, gaining many celebrity clients along the way. It’s the law of attraction: when people seek top talent, companies turn to you. And when Somi needed to make a decision on her own career as an idol, she only had two choices: move to a different agency or continue to have you by her side. It was a hard choice for Somi until she came to the obvious conclusion. You didn’t hold any resentment; you understood her decision. This was all business anyways.

However, the glares in your eyes weren't always so friendly. Your presence was already intimidating, with the black suit, sunglasses, earpiece, and sometimes even a holster at your hip. You didn't smile much, but you got the job done. Initially, Somi thought you were a cold person, but that changed once you became her regular bodyguard. The more time she spent with you, the more her perception shifted. Despite your cold and intimidating appearance, you cared for and protected your client. That was the job you had signed up for.

“I took part in the lyrics,” Somi says, causing you to stop short before opening the door and look back at her.

“What do I have to do with your song?”

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. “Just.. just missed you, Oppa. Don’t you miss me too?”

You couldn't give her an answer when she expected a 'yes,' but you remained silent. Was it wrong to forget about her? You had her phone number, but you never called or texted. Not even to wish her something like a 'Happy Birthday' or 'Happy New Year.'

Somi glances around to make sure no one is watching. Once she's certain both of you are alone, she takes your hand. “I know we are parting ways again after this. But can we catch up? I don’t want you to leave.”

“I think your manager is waiting, Somi. We can catch up next time. Promise?”

“But remember the promise you made with me last time?”

You're clueless. Her question was too vague. It's been years. "What promise?"

“May I come over, Oppa? You’ve seen my place. I never saw yours.”

Somi never slept with you, but it was obvious that she wanted to fuck at the hotel when you went overseas with her, which didn't went her way anyways since this was all business. “Does Chaeyoung talk about me to you, Somi? I’m sure she said something.”

“Oppa, just once. Please?” Somi’s begging for you straightforwardly, you can tell from her eyes that she’s been lonely for far too long. “Aren’t we close? How many years have we not seen each other? It’s been too long, Oppa.”

There’s also not a single lie that you can tell Somi was interested in you, not just sexually, but also romantically. When times change, it’s questionable when you and Somi parted ways.

“Ennik,” you say softly. “Somi.”

“Yes?” she smiles and lets go of your hand.

“Come home with me.”

She chuckles, “finally, you’re not playing hard for once.”

———

“Daddy?” Somi says cautiously out of the blue as you pull into the driveway.

“Is that like one of your kinks?” you chuckle.

“You don’t like it?”

“I’m not judging. I don’t mind it, Somi.” You turn the car off and close the garage door. “Let’s go inside.”

She's unusually quiet, waiting impatiently as you both exit the car and walk inside. There's no doubt that Somi won't let you off the hook the moment you step in. She's hungry. She's lonely. As you shut the door calmly, before you can even turn around, she gets on her knees with her hands in her lap, looking up at you desperately.

"Give it to me, Daddy," she softly pleads once you see her kneeling, slowly placing her hands on your pants and pulls down slowly.

“Somi,” you take a breath, "how much did you missed me?"

"So much." Somi leans closer, staring right at you from below and getting a whiff of your crotch.

"Then show me how much you missed me. Be a good girl."

Somi doesn't respond, but you can see it in her eyes that she wants to be proven worthy. And slowly, Somi bites onto the waistband of your boxers, then pulls it down with a wicked smirk, and you felt her nose dragging against your skin.

She’s not someone who you just met. You know that she's a horny one at heart. Somi didn't want to waste any time. Her breaths came shallow and quick, as if each breath were full of desperation. She gulps and stares at your cock the moment it flings out of your boxers. But before you give her a taste, what's the fun without a small tease? You already have her in a chokehold, and she wouldn’t want to escape it.

"Take off your shirt," you demand, caressing her cheeks. Somi didn't even hesitate and takes off her shirt, revealing a black bra as you stare at her cleavage. Her tit's are round and perfect, more than enough to where you would want your face in between.

“Good girl.” you say, smirking.

She leans closer again and only stares at you after a quick kiss on the tip of your cock. “I’ve been fantasizing about you. I thought about you late last night."

“I’ll make it come true, Somi.” You say, brushing her hair and getting a clear view of her beauty. Once her mouth opened, she wanted only one thing: to taste you. But knowing how desperate Somi is, you're not letting her. Not this easily. You pull her hair back and she gasp, staring up to meet your gaze.

Somi gulps, which was loud in this quiet house. “Daddy,” she whispers. You saw your own reflection in her eyes as she looks at you.

“Open your mouth,” you say, wanting to be in control. Quietly, she opens her mouth without hesitation and you slap your cock right on her cheeks, not once, but twice as she flinches and smiles, then Somi wickedly chuckles.

“I’m such a slut for you.”

“It should be that way,” you say, a deeper tone that made her heart to start fluttering. Your cock was right in front of Somi. She’s impatiently waiting like a good girl. “Keep your mouth open and your tongue out.”

Again, she listens to everything you demanded. Her eyes gleamed, begging you so desperately to the point she’ll do anything just for a small taste. And as you’re curious to how desperate she was, her salvia starts to drip off the tip of her tongue.

You slap your cock right on her tongue, then held her nape with no intentions on letting Somi have it her way. You’re planning to ruin her face. She deserves it. There’s no excuse if Somi’s been waiting for this day. And with a small thrust into her mouth, she chokes once you reached the back of her throat. You push harder, slowly every few seconds without pulling out your cock.

Somi's throat expands, and you could feel her trying to choke, when it’s only a weak one with your cock deep in her throat. She leans back, almost falling behind, and you intentionally did it to pin her against the wall. She closes her eyes shut, face trembling to how deep your cock was in. Well, you weren’t trying to make her pass out, but you did start to worry and gave Somi some room to breathe.

She takes a deep breath with your cock still in her mouth. Without a response, Somi grabs onto your hips, bobbing and tilting her head slowly. You couldn’t help but smirk at how much of a slut you made her. There was no sense of pride from Somi. She's going crazy for your cock.

“Good girl,” you groan, complimenting Somi. “Go ahead, have it. Take it.”

“Mhm,” she murmurs. Then there’s a long hum, the type of hum of tasting something delightful. You felt her perfectly manicured nails digging into your skin as she grips harder and harder, cock disappearing in and out from her mouth. Saliva drips down from her chin and right onto her cleavage. You give a hard thrust and her head’s now against the wall, perfect as you smirk to what wicked intentions you have for her face—a hard face fucking.

Somi closes her eyes, letting a tear out by how hard you were thrusting into her mouth. It’s the tears of happiness that everyone gets after getting what they’ve been longing for. You decide to suddenly stop, still with your cock deep down in her throat. And with your thumb on her face, you wiped her tears, smudging her mascara in the process. She looked more of a slut at this point, and you aren’t complain of seeing Somi like this when her hair is sticking to the wall.

“Good girl,” you say, more softly with a deeper tone. “You look so fucking beautiful like this.” Praising her is a cheat code, she loves being complicated and praised at, especially if it’s from you. You’re well aware of how much you meant to her. It’s no secret.

And it’s clear that you’re using her mouth like a toy, she’s choking and gagging. You could care less while you chase this peace of mind from a singer’s mouth. Somi’s not stopping you, neither would you want to.

“Fuck,” you groan softly, taking a quick breath, and seeing how much of a mess her face was and pulls out. Saliva drips down to her tits after she spits more out to make a mess. You love it how she’s just a slut taking your cock like there’s no tomorrow. Her lips are coated in saliva as she worships your cock with her lips pressing right on it.

“Am I being a good girl, Daddy?” she mumbles, lips on the tip of your cock.

“You are. Maybe you should stop talking and show me that you’re even better than a good girl.” Somi’s face was all fucked, a whole hot mess. She’s even more beautiful like this.

“I want it all over my face, Daddy.”

“Should maybe get ready then.”

You grab onto her face, squeezing her cheeks with your fingers and palm right on her chin to make Somi look up at you. You were once her love interest. You were her protector. And now, she’s on her very knees, in a mess taking your aggression. Somi couldn’t say anything, she’s more mesmerized by your glare. You push your cock back into her mouth to make Somi gag and continue to choke all over your cock.

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” you groan. Your cock was shoved deep down to the point it bulges out her throat. Her eyes are closed, tears slowly coming down her face. You felt saliva dripping all the way down to your balls. Her small mouth couldn’t take it, but she's not stopping you from using her like a toy.

Your cock begins to throb, violently more as you keep shoving your cock into her mouth. There’s a whole mess on her tits as it’s drying out layer by layer. Somi’s taking it like a slut that she is. It doesn’t matter how rough you were, Somi loves the way your cock throbs. After a deep gasp, and a moan, you pull out. Webs of saliva flows out her mouth and on your cock down to her chest.

She grabs onto your cock to start stroking it. Somi knew what to do. She wants to make you cum all over her face. Her hands squeezes your cock, stroking it faster and faster while looking up at you.

“Make me cum, Somi,” you uttered quickly. “I’ll cum on your pretty face.”

“Give it to me, Daddy,” she murmurs. Her mouths wide open, tongues out, eyes all closed.

You cum by her small hands squeezing and stroking your cock, releasing all the built up sexual tension for years, but all Somi can feel was how much cum there was on her face. With a bright smile, and a couple flinches from cum shooting onto her face, she finally got her fantasy to come true. It’s warm. It’s thick. Just what she’s been craving for.

Somi’s face is the definition of getting face fucked. Her hairs a mess, cum all over her lips, cheeks, and even up to her hair as she couldn’t open her eyes but smile. Then strands of cum stretch and drip down her chin to her tits.

“What a mess,” she utters after swallowing your cum, and the biggest smile you saw from her today. Somi scoops all the cum on her face and licks every single finger.

“You’re missing more, Somi,” you say, wanting her to lick your cock clean. She crawls on her knees to suck you off without a word. “There’s some on your hair too.”

“It’s fine,” she says after pulling off your cock with a loud pop. “You taste good.”

“Was I too aggressive?”

“Kind of. Tolerable thought. But why should I complain?” She then leans in again to give your cock a quick kiss. Her chest is pumping after being used as a toy.

“Water?” you say, wanting to give her some care.

“No,” she whispers shyly.

You grab your pants and gently hand Somi her shirt. She’s still on her knees with the shirt rolled up into a ball as she covers part of her chest. “It’s not a problem if you want get in my panties if you’re thinking about it right now.”

Well, you did give her a hard face fucking. It’s only right that you give Somi a time to rest. As you put on your pants, she’s just staring down at the floor, lost in thought.

“What are you thinking, Somi?”

“Are you gonna kick me out?” she says, looking up at you. There’s a pure moment of silence, you couldn’t believe what she just said. After face fucking her? Why kick her out?

“Do you want me to, Somi?” you smirk, teasing her when you aren’t planning on kicking her out.

“You want my pussy? I’ll give it to you right now for as long as you want. Please let me stay for a while, Oppa. Please, Daddy?”

You’re dumbfounded to why Somi thinks that you’ll kick her out. “Calm down, let’s go sit on the couch. I’m not telling you to leave.”

“Oh,” she embarrassingly says and puts on her shirt. After Somi stands up, she follows you to the couch and sits right beside you. Somi couldn't belive that she got naked and took your cock like a slut. Neither did she want to fully admit of being one.

“How was it since you changed agencies, Somi?”

“I really missed you. I couldn’t stop thinking that I might of made the wrong choice to leave you behind. And now you’re with Twice.”

“I’m just a bodyguard,” you chuckle.

“So what? You’re so comfortable to be around with. Isn’t it obvious?”

You shrug, “don’t know.”

“Oppa,” she takes a deep breath. “Was it also obvious that I was interested in you?”

“It was. Why are you bringing this up, Somi?”

“If I can’t buy your love, I’ll sell you my body. That’s the most I can do for you to want me in a way.”

You sigh, “there’s gotta be a better way to word that, Somi. C’mon.”

She then sits closer to you and puts her head on your shoulders, “we never had a proper farewell to each other. I want to thank you for everything.”

“It’s..not like I’ll never take you in as a client again, Somi. If both our schedules are right, I don’t mind taking you.”

“Really, Oppa?”

“When’s your next concert? I’ll come with Chaeyoung.”

“Why come with her when you can be alongside me like we used to? Be backstage and we can eat at a restaurant after with my manager. I want to treat you for everything you’ve done with me.”

“Just text me, Somi. I’ll be there if your agency reaches out to me.”

“Mhm, I can’t thank you enough.”

“Do you plan on spending the night here?”

“I’m busy tomorrow morning, Oppa,” she sighs.

“I’ll take you home later, Somi.”

A/N: Lost motivation to write more, but hope this is enough. Half ass edit too.

#jeon somi #kpop smut

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hungermakesmonsters · 5 months ago

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(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Two

Plot Summary : When Billy Russo realises that there is a certain class of wealthy clients who refuse to contract with Anvil because of his playboy reputation, he decides to alter their perception of him. You’re just a down on your luck PA, just trying to get by so when Billy offers to pay you to pretend to date him, you can’t refuse. But the last thing you expect is for Billy to pull you into his secret world of lust and debauchery.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing noteworthy on this chapter. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 5.5k

A/N : ... yeah, Billy is pretty clueless 😅

CHAPTER ONE

Master List

Chapter Two

It all felt like a fever dream and, by the end of it, you were left wondering just what the hell you’d agreed to.

The moment you’d accepted his offer, Mr Russo had switched into what you liked to call his planning mode, becoming hyper-focused on the task at hand, and everything that would be required to make his crazy scheme work. It felt like something straight out of a Nickelodeon show from the 90s, and you could only half keep up as he started making the arrangements.

You knew enough from experience that there was no stopping him once he started on something like this, and all you could do was stand and watch, hoping for the best.

By the time you finally managed to return to your desk, you knew that there was no way out of it and that it was far too late to change your mind.

Still, after his initial flurry of excitement, he got on with his day. To say you were relieved when he left for a meeting across town was something of an understatement - he’d be gone most of the day, leaving you with some time to wrap your head around what you were going to have to do.

But that feeling of relief was short-lived.

Not long after you’d returned from lunch the elevator doors slid open and a package was placed on your desk in front of you. While it wasn’t entirely out of the ordinary for Mr Russo to have more sensitive packages sent directly to his office, you quickly discovered that the package wasn’t for Mr Russo.

After some back and forth with the delivery guy, mostly confirming that it was your name on the box and that he wasn’t going to leave until you signed for it, you conceded defeat.

What happened next could only aptly be described as a staring competition with a cardboard box.

Despite it bearing your name, you didn’t want to open it just in case there was some mistake. So, you checked through your emails, making sure you hadn’t accidentally ordered something and had it shipped to the office, but there was nothing.

Then you picked up the box and gave it a gentle shake, trying to see if you could tell what it was that way.

Of course, you couldn’t.

Finally, you were left with no choice but to open it, and immediately found yourself confused by what you found.

It was a dress.

A chiffon dress in a gorgeous deep purple colour with a label that told you it was from a boutique in Brooklyn. And a quick google of that boutique’s website left you feeling queasy when you saw just how much they charged for similar dresses.

You only dared remove it from the box for a few seconds, long enough to ascertain that it was a halterneck, midi-length dress with a cinched waist in your size, and long enough to find the invoice.

The invoice solved one mystery but left you with several more unanswered questions.

Mr Russo had bought the dress.

He’d bought you a dress for your fake date, without even asking your opinion or preference.

(Not that it wasn’t gorgeous or something that you wouldn’t have picked yourself if you had that much money to throw away on a dress, but it was the principle of the matter.)

You carefully folded it up, making sure that it was safely wrapped in the bright pink tissue paper it had arrived in before lowering it back into the box and closing it up, grabbing some tape and resealing it. You couldn’t keep it - you had your own clothes and the last thing you needed was Billy Russo dressing you up like... like you were a doll, a plaything.

You’d tell him to send it back the moment he reappeared.

At least, that had been the plan. Over the next couple of hours, your annoyance was mostly pushed aside in favour of getting through the last of your work before the weekend, and when Mr Russo finally reappeared, you weren’t given much of an opportunity to raise your grievances.

He came bustling out the elevator, barely sparing you a look but immediately noticing the box on the floor beside your desk.

“Oh, good, it’s here,” he said, already halfway into his office before you could get to his feet.

Clearly his meeting hadn’t settled or slowed him down.

Normally, you stayed well out of his way when he got like that, when he started rushing around the place like a stressed headless chicken, but you needed to say something about the unwanted gift.

He was rummaging through his desk by the time you entered his office, clearly looking for something.

“The dress -” you started, trying to remain calm and polite.

“It’s nice, isn’t it? Had to pull some strings to get it delivered today, but it’ll be worth it,” he said, barely looking at you as he pulled a bottle of scotch from his desk - one of the older ones by the look of it, one of three bottles he kept on hand for various occasions.

“But, I don’t -” you tried again.

“Do you need me to send a driver for you tonight?” He asked as he stepped away from his desk and started back towards the door. “I’d collect you myself but something’s just come up, so I’ll have to meet you at Bianchi’s.”

“Bianchi’s?”

As in one the most exclusive and expensive restaurants in New york? That Bianchi’s.

(He was taking you to the same restaurant Ethan Hawke had been photographed at only a month ago?)

“Yeah, on Madison?” He said as he moved to grab his coat from the coat rack outside his office door and started to pull it on. “The table is booked for seven, so if I send a car -”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll take a cab.”

“Okay, excellent, I’ll see you there at about six fifty-five.”

And, then, before you could even think to say another word, he was stepping back into the elevator, leaving you alone again.

Fuck.

He left you feeling worse than you had before, with more questions and worries to contend with.

Of course, it was impossible to get any work done after that; all you could think about was the dress and Bianchi’s, and how you had never before stopped to think about how you and Billy Russo lived in two very different worlds. How were you going to fit into his world for six months? How could you fake it for that long?

But, you also had time to remember why you were doing it and what you were going to get at the end of it all, and that would have to be enough to get you through it.

Besides, it was one fake date - you could keep the tags for the dress and he could take it back after you’d worn it. And, maybe it would all go terribly, maybe he’d realise how out of place you were in his world and he’d reconsider the whole silly idea. There were so many ways that things could play out and, as nervous as you were, some part of you couldn’t help but feel a little excited.

People like you didn’t get to eat at places like Bianchi’s, and you loved Italian food.

You snuck out ten minutes early and took a taxi home, knowing that you didn’t have much time to get ready and not wanting to carry such an expensive dress on the subway.

The moment you were through your front door, the panic set in.

First you found yourself rummaging through your wardrobe, desperate to find a pair of shoes that might work with the dress. You settled on a pair of strappy heels you wore to a wedding a few years ago, they pinched your feet but they were all you had. Then you threw yourself in the shower, struggled to do your hair, and finally did your make-up.

When you pulled the dress on, you didn’t know how to feel. It was beautiful but you didn’t feel beautiful wearing it. You stood in front of the mirror, turning this way and that, trying to pull your stomach in even further than your spanx already was, and smoothing the front of the dress down, hoping to find a way to conceal your obvious curves.

The dress would probably look amazing on one of the beautiful, leggy, thin women Billy usually surrounded himself with. You just looked like a poor imitation.

Deep breath, you told yourself. It didn’t matter. It wasn’t real.

Six months. That’s all it was.

Six months of playing pretend, of laughing at Mr Russo’s jokes, and convincing everyone that you were a loving, respectable couple.

You could do it.

(For your brother’s sake, you had to do it.)

He was already waiting when you arrived and quickly moved to greet you as you climbed out of the taxi. You felt your cheeks heat as he looked at you, and your stomach knotted uncomfortably; was the make-up too much? Did the cheap shoes you’d picked look terrible with the dress?

For a second you felt your usual, forced smile start to waver, but you managed to keep yourself from losing control of it, wanting to appear as calm and collected as possible.

Before you realised it was happening, he had your hand in his and he was slowly leading you towards the door, but he stopped just shy and looked at you again.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He asked.

It was as if he could sense your nerves and he was offering you one final chance to escape, and some part of you desperately wanted to take it.

“No, I just...” you started and trailed off, for a few seconds, “well, we didn’t exactly get any time to plan this out.”

You were going into the situation blind and you were sure what was expected of you or what you were supposed to do if anyone asked you any questions.

Hell, you hadn’t even been given the chance to make sure he understood that sex was entirely off the table. (Not that you really thought Billy was interested in anything like that from you.)

“I know,” Billy said with a sigh, “but we should be able to talk over dinner, I asked for one of the quieter tables in the back.” His hand gave yours a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t worry, it’s just dinner. We just need to be seen together - everything else can come after. And, you should know that they do amazing tiramisu here.”

That had your smile warming and turning into something far more genuine.

“Tiramisu? Are you trying to make up for something, Mr Russo,” you joked, echoing his words from the day before.

He let out a laugh, seeming amused that you’d remembered.

“It’s Billy,” he said quietly, smiling at you in a way you weren’t sure you’d seen before. “You have to call me Billy from now on.”

“Oh, yes, Mr - I mean Billy.”

And that was going to take a lot of getting used to.

“Come on,” he said, finally reaching for the door and holding it open for you, “our table should be ready now.”

As you stepped into Bianchi’s, you found yourself trailing half a step behind Billy, immediately feeling out of place, like someone was going to ask you to leave and offer you directions to the nearest Burger King. But, with Billy in front of you, you were rendered almost invisible to the staff who all seemed to know him by name.

Still, you managed to keep a smile on your lips as you were slowly led towards the back of the restaurant to a candle lit table that, for reasons you didn’t want to think about, reminded you of that one scene from Lady and the Tramp.

Once you were both sitting at the table, you found yourself wanting to look anywhere but at Billy. It felt weird to look at him in the gentle flickering light of the candles, the soft glow adding a warmth and depth to his features and making his dark eyes seem all the darker. But you immediately regretted allowing your gaze to wander.

You noticed the looks from other diners straight away, though you told yourself that it was Billy they were not so subtly glancing at - he drew attention wherever he went and, well, he looked extra sharp tonight in his charcoal suit and light blue shirt.

Looking down, you wondered what you must look like sitting across from him. Ridiculous, probably.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice cutting through your spiralling thoughts.

“Yeah,” you answered automatically, forcing your gaze back to him, “yeah, just feeling a little out of place.”

Billy shot you a questioning look, but didn’t comment on it. Instead his eyes dropped to the menu in front of him.

“Do you prefer red or white?” He asked after a few seconds.

You stared at him blankly, before realising he was talking about wine. “Oh, white.”

Finally, your attention turned to the menu but found that you couldn’t focus on it. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself that this wasn’t you; you didn’t get flustered over silly little things.

So what if people thought you didn’t belong there with him?

(It’s not real. It’s not real.)

By the time the waiter appeared, you still hadn’t decided what you wanted, so you decided to defer to his judgement and, if nothing else, it seemed to ingratiate you to the waiter.

“So,” Billy finally said, once your wine had been poured and the pair of you had been left alone to wait for your food. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” you answered, reaching for your glass and taking a slow sip, hoping to calm your nerves.

“Just nice?”

“It’s a restaurant, I can’t exactly make a judgement until I’ve actually tried the food,” you told him, managing to affect a playful enough tone. “The wine’s nice though.”

“I mean, is it nice enough that you think you’re going to be able to stomach six months of this?”

It was difficult to discern if he was talking about the restaurant or his own presence, so instead of answering straight away, you took another drink.

“Why? Is this what you do every night?” You asked jokingly, despite already knowing the answer.

More often than not, you were the one tasked with finding him reservations and responding to invitations on his behalf. Put kindly, Billy Russo had a very active social life, and that was exactly what you were supposed to be helping him change.

After a moment of silence you continued; “it’s fine. Just as long as you don’t expect me to be at your beck and call every single night.”

“What days are you available to be at my beck and call?” He asked, grinning at the ridiculousness of the question.

“Any day except Wednesdays and Sundays.”

You leaned forward a little, wanting to to seem to anyone who looked that you were having some intimate conversation and not planning out the finer details of your fake relationship.

“I’m usually busy on Thursday evenings,” Billy offered.

It was strange that neither of you asked what the other did, but Billy didn’t pry so you didn’t either. If it was ever something you needed to share with him, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

“I’ll check your schedule on Monday,” you offered, comforted at the thought of being able to slip back into your role as PA instead of fake date.

“There’s a charity event in a couple of weeks - there’s going to be representatives from VDK there, so I’ll need you for that.”

“Yes, Mr - yes, Billy.”

You feel your cheeks heat as the corner of his lip pulled upwards and, for a moment, he looked ready to make some awful joke, but before he could get the words out, he was interrupted.

“Ah! William!”

It was a loud, booming voice, and it caused your eyes to shoot upwards and towards the kitchen doors. There were two waiters, carrying what seemed to be yours and Billy’s food, and a large, grinning man dressed in chef’s clothes.

“Marco,” Billy said, getting to his feet and throwing an arm around the chef.

You remained seated, frozen, feeling utterly out of the loop and out of place in Billy’s world.

The two men started to talk while plates were placed down on the table in front of you - far more than you’d actually ordered but, from what you could gather from their conversation, the chef had prepared extra just for Billy.

You were left ignored until the waiters disappeared.

“William, you always bring the most beautiful women to my restaurant,” Marco said, moving to your side and taking your hand in his and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.

Your cheeks instantly started to heat and you found yourself entirely lost for words.

Billy introduced you and you sat there silently, your stomach knotting as he referred to you as his girlfriend, earning a fond laugh from Marco. But, still, you kept a smile on your lips.

“You have exquisite taste,” Marco said.

The rest of their brief conversation became white noise as you fought against all the unsettling and uncomfortable thoughts that started to fill your head again. But it was hard not to feel a certain way, to not feel like everyone who knew him, everyone who saw you together, would be comparing you to the women who’d come before - the women he’d actually wanted.

It was a feeling you weren’t used to, a feeling you didn’t even understand. You blended into the background, you were a side character, you weren’t the love interest or the woman that people called pretty. You were just... you.

And, in a way, it made you angry. You hated that he was putting you in a position to be compared to the other women to begin with.

“Are you okay?” Billy asked as he finally sat back down.

“You've -” you hesitated, taking a moment to really consider whether you wanted to ask the question, “- brought other women here?”

“Of course,” Billy answered, oblivious to how that was making you feel.

You looked down at your plate and considered just leaving it at that, but you didn't want to. Six months of this would be unbearable. You needed to say something, if only to protect your own sanity. If you were going to do this, if you were going to help him, you couldn’t just let him carry on as normal.

“I'd suggest if you want people to believe that this,” you waved your hand in the empty space between you, “is real, then you shouldn't just treat me like one of your one night stands.”

He looked at you, completely confused, not sure what you were trying to get at.

“This is one of the most exclusive restaurants in New York -”

“Exactly, and I'm sure that fact is a real pantie-dropper, but that's not the message you need to convey if you want to sell this.”

“So, what? I'm supposed to take you to Pizza Hut?”

You rolled your eyes and resisted the urge to slump back in your seat. “If you want people to believe it, then it shouldn't matter where we are, just that we're enjoying each other’s company.”

Billy continued to stare at you blankly and you found yourself wondering if he'd ever had a real, meaningful relationship before.

“If you treat me like them, everyone is going to assume that I mean as much to you as they did,” you said, trying one last time.

“Why are you assuming that they meant nothing?”

He had you there. It wasn't a fair assumption to make, not really. All you knew about him and his life away from work was what you picked up through gossip that you only ever half paid attention to. Maybe they had meant something to him, maybe he wasn't the one always ending things. Maybe he was genuinely clueless.

“I'm sorry, you're right, I don't really know anything about you outside of work,” you conceded. “But that doesn't change the fact that you need to alter people's perception of you, and bringing someone like me to a restaurant like this isn't going to cut it.”

"Someone like you? What's that supposed to mean?" He asked, starting to sound exasperated.

For a moment you looked at him, betraying that awkward flicker of hurt that you felt for reasons you didn't entirely understand. Then you looked down at yourself, at the expensive dress he had chosen for you, paired with your own cheap heels and jewellery; you felt fucking ridiculous, like a kid playing dress up in one of your mother's dresses.

“I mean, I'm not the sort of woman you can put in a dress like this and bring to a place like this, Billy,” you said, only to earn an even more confused look from him. “Look at me, I - I clearly don't belong here, people are looking at me thinking I'm either after your money or I'm someone you need to fuck to get a contract.”

The irony of the second option wasn't lost on you.

“What?” He asked, still not getting it.

You sighed. “If you bring me to places you've brought other women, all anyone is going to do is compare me to them. They're going to want to know why you downgraded from runway models and wealthy heiresses to... to me.”

Billy's lips parted instantly, and you knew he was about to say the very first thing to come to mind, but then he surprised you by saying nothing. You weren't sure if his silent agreement made it better or worse — you didn't want him lying to you, trying to compare you to other women, but at the same time, his silence just seemed to confirm all your worst feelings about yourself.

“Okay,” he said finally, “how about, from now on, you decide where we go?”

There was something in his voice that you didn't want to think too hard about, an uncomfortable resignation. Billy Russo was a man who liked to be in control, a man who didn't like being told what to do but, in this situation, he was allowing himself to trust you.

You both started to eat, making little comments about the food and, every so often, you’d catch Billy looking at you, like he was trying to somehow figure you out. By the time you finished eating and dessert was on the way, you felt like you needed to break the silence.

“Do you like movies?” You asked.

“Depends,” Billy answered, confused by the sudden question. “Why?”

“There’s a horror movie festival in Queens in a couple of weeks, they’re going to be showing loads of the old classics...”

It was meant as a suggestion, an invitation, but it went right over Billy’s head.

“Oh,” was all he offered.

You sighed. “I meant we could go. Together. If you want...”

“Like a date?” He asked, and you nodded. “Isn’t that a little childish?”

For a moment you forced yourself to bite your tongue, offended on more levels that you could really hope to verbalise.

“I happen to like old horror movies, and if you want anyone to believe this is real -”

“Right,” he conceded. “Okay, fine, I guess we could do that.”

Then, again, you slipped back into that awkward silence through dessert.

Still, you kept smiling, all the while thinking about how it was going to be a really long six months.

Once the bill was paid and you were ready to leave, you found Billy taking your hand in his again, holding you a little tighter than he had before as he led you out of the restaurant and into the cold night air. You were about ready to pull away from him, to get yourself a taxi when his hand gave a gentle tug on yours.

You turned to face him, confused, and you found yourself getting lost in his dark eyes.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he muttered softly.

In the time it took for the words to register and for you to come to terms with the fact that he was the one saying them, Billy’s lips were on yours. It started softly, a testing peck before pulling back an inch or two, then it became something else entirely.

His arm slipped around your waist, pulling you against him. Your own arms ended up around him - though you couldn't rightly say if it was to pull him closer or to keep yourself from falling over. At some point your eyes drifted shut and you allowed him to part the seam of your lips with his tongue.

Fuck, if this is how he kisses, it's no wonder he's got so many women falling over themselves to be with him, you thought.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the treacherous organ knocking against your ribs with each desperate thump. You were pressed so close to him, you wondered if he could feel it. It stoked a fire in your belly, something you knew you shouldn't be feeling, that you couldn't stop or control. You almost dared to want more, for the kiss to become some wild and untameable thing.

When the kiss finally broke and your eyes fluttered open, you were greeted by the sight of his smile, and it did little to quell the awkward feeling of wanting that had started to grow inside you. His hand tenderly cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed your lower lip and - fuck, you had to wonder if he was deliberately trying to drive you insane.

Your breath hitched, and, for a moment - a really fucking stupid moment - you almost let yourself wonder if it had been real.

“That should sell it,” he muttered softly before pressing one more gentle kiss to your lips.

Right.

It wasn't real. It was all just an act. A really convincing act.

Still, he lingered, one hand pressed to the small of your back while the thumb of the other traced your lips.

“Right,” you said just as softly, unable to tear your eyes from his.

Neither of you moved for a second more until Billy finally pulled away and took your hand in his again.

Your heart continued to pound in your chest as he led you away from the restaurant and towards his car, not stopping to even ask or offer you a lift home, and you found yourself idly wondering if his driver had been sitting out there waiting the whole time you'd been eating. He sprang out of the car the moment he saw you and Billy approaching and quickly opened the door for you.

Billy held your hand, helping you into the car like a gentleman — and, honestly, you really couldn't get over seeing that side of him. Then he moved around to the other side of the car where the door was being held open for him.

You’d been in his car before, but never like this, never for anything other than work. (Though, you grimly had to concede that this was like work in a very fucked up way.)

You didn’t even have to give the driver your address; with one word from Billy you were on your way. As the car started to move, you found yourself looking out the window at the streets of New York, all the bright lights and bustle of people going about their evenings. It had been an overwhelming evening to say the least, so you barely even noticed when Billy took your hand in his again.

It was for the driver’s benefit, you assumed. Everyone was going to have to buy the fact that you were dating, including all the people you came across in your day to day lives. And it quickly occurred to you that you still hadn’t really discussed much of anything about the arrangement - you’d been so preoccupied with your own awkward feelings that you’d spent half of the meal in silence, instead of figuring things out.

“So,” Billy said - and you were really starting to hate the way that he did that, “what did you think of Bianchi’s?”

Your attention turned back to him, though you quickly found your gaze dropping to your hand in his.

“You were right,” you said, forcing your smile again, “the tiramisu was amazing.”

A laugh seemed to spill out of him unbidden and, for a moment, he looked as surprised by it as you were. It sounded so real, so genuine and, suddenly, you found yourself wondering something odd; was he just like you? Did he fake his way through the day in the hopes that it would make things easier for him?

Of course, you didn’t ask. It was far too personal and gave too much away, but it felt like, for the briefest of seconds, you’d finally seen something real, something you hadn’t even realised existed.

Your smile softened and you sank back in your seat, allowing your fingers to tighten around his just a fraction.

“What’s your favourite movie?” He asked.

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, a little surprised that he was finally making an effort. “I guess it changes? I like a lot of movies.”

“Well, what’s your favourite right now?”

“Probably the first Omen movie?”

“Isn’t that movie older than I am?” Billy joked.

Strangely, it was the first time you’d even thought about his age - though, now that you had, it would no doubt add another weird level to the way you were thinking about your fake relationship.

“There are lots of movies that are older than you, Billy,” you said. “Besides, I like the classics.”

“I’ve never been called a classic before.”

The comment had you laughing unexpectedly and Billy quickly joined in. What a sight you must have looked to the poor driver, the pair of you giggling uncontrollably at such a terrible line.

“That’s awful,” you finally managed to say, awkwardly trying to wipe the tears from your eyes without smudging mascara all over your cheeks. “I didn’t know you made such terrible jokes.”

“I’m a man of hidden depths,” Billy answered.

“What about you? What’s your favourite movie?” You asked, wanting to keep the conversation going now you’d finally managed to escape from the awkwardness.

“I don’t know. I’ve always preferred reading.”

“Really?” You asked. You didn’t mean to sound shocked, but it wasn’t something you’d expected. “Well, what’s your favourite book then?”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray.”

“Huh.”

“Huh?” He repeated, almost laughing again. “What’s ‘huh’ mean?”

“Nothing, it’s just -” you felt your cheeks heating again, “- I don’t know, I just never pictured you enjoying something with such a downer ending?”

“You’ve read it?”

You nodded. “And I’ve seen at least two of the movie adaptations.”

“Okay, well, what’s your favourite book?”

“The Count of Monte Cristo,” you answered without hesitation.

“Huh,” Billy said, obviously fighting to keep a smile from his lips.

“What?” You asked, contending with a smile of your own.

“Oh, nothing...”

You opened your mouth, ready to demand an answer when the car came to a stop and you realised that you were outside your building.

Clearing your throat, you reluctantly pulled your hand away from Billy’s and watched as the driver rounded the car to let you out. You moved slowly, taking extra care not to snag the dress or do anything that might ruin it, still intent on returning it to Billy.

You didn’t notice Billy move as you got out of the car, but, by the time you were standing on the sidewalk, he was at your side. His hand found yours again and you shot him a confused look.

“I’ll walk you in,” he said. A statement, not a question or an offer.

“It’s fine, I -”

“It’s not fine. Your building doesn’t even have a doorman.”

If you didn’t know any better you might have thought he was worried, but the show was probably all for the driver. Still, you really didn’t want Billy to see your apartment.

“Most normal apartment buildings don’t, Billy,” you said, rolling your eyes before lowering your voice.” Besides, I don’t think anyone is watching.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m walking you in.”

And, with that, he started towards the door to your building, leaving you no choice but to fall into step beside him.

Once inside, there was no missing the way he looked around the place, judging it. Judging you. The only small mercy to be found in the situation was the fact that the elevator was working and not plastered in the usual Out of Order signs.

You tried to leave Billy at the elevator and, again, he refused. He followed you in, watching as you punched the button for the fourth floor. And, by that point, the situation seemed so surreal to you, that you didn't even think twice about the fact that your hand was still in his.

A/N : 😅 Poor Billy has no idea what women want. Don't worry, reader's not going to forget about the dress issue. I'm definitely going to have a lot of fun playing around with their dynamic while they slowly get to know each other. Also I genuinely didn't intend to end this chapter here, I planned a lot after but then this got really long 😅

I had a busy week so I didn't get much time to do much of the other stuff I wanted to do and get this chapter done on time so I'm still getting through my 500 follower celebration stuff (I think I've got 5 things left to finish?)

As always, thanks so much for reading! I really loved seeing all the comments on the first chapter!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

Tag list :

@oliviaewl @lincerad @xxxsweetcarolinexxx @benbarnesprettygurl @dreadfulxives18

@danzer8705 @snowkestrel @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @intothesoul @uniquehijo

@anitaxl @solacedragonx @justiceforquentin @ladyblacky @marvelsunlightt

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo imagine #(ii)wii ff

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eminardo · 3 months ago

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Emi Yoshimoto | 14 y.o

Emi is a calm and focused individual who prefers to stay in the background, observing more than speaking. She carries herself with quiet confidence and tends to keep her emotions tightly guarded. Though she may come off as distant, she's thoughtful and perceptive, often noticing what others miss. There's a quiet strength in her presence, steady, deliberate, and not easily shaken.

Pre-Season 1

As a child, Emi was kicked out by her parents for reasons no one really knows. Left to fend for herself, she learned quickly how to survive. One day, after defending herself against a group of kids who picked a fight, she caught the attention of Big Mama. Impressed, Big Mama offered her a place to stay. Emi grew up in the shadows of the Grand Nexus Hotel, learning through observation and quiet guidance. She eventually began fighting in the Battle Nexus, building a name for herself. But as she got a little older, Emi started questioning the life she was living. She eventually broke away, choosing her own path. Now living on her own, she takes on bounty hunting jobs—most of them from the Hidden City, with clients like Big Mama herself and even Baron Draxum.

Season 1-2

Emi’s first encounter with the Turtles happened under orders from both Baron Draxum and Big Mama. Tasked with capturing the brothers in the Bug Buster episode, she approached the job with a plan: make them compete to see who could offer more money for their capture. She failed, of course, as things never quite go as planned with the Turtles. After that, she became just another one of their enemies—facing off against them more than once, keeping her distance while still being a notable opponent.

However, things took an unexpected turn during Insane in the Mama Train episode, when Leo managed to save her from a dangerous accidental attack by one of the Foot Clan members. His unexpected act of kindness made her reconsider everything. Grateful but conflicted, she found herself slowly warming to the idea of joining their side, with Leo playing a pivotal role in guiding her there.

Emi started spending more time with the Turtles, observing them closely. In Lair Games, she grew more familiar with their dynamics and the way they worked.

In the Bad Hair Day episode, Emi’s feelings for Leo began to change. With Leo and Emi spending more time together. His easygoing nature gradually wore down her walls, and she found herself feeling comfortable around him in a way she hadn’t expected. As they worked side by side, Emi started noticing things about Leo—the way he cared for his brothers and his quiet kindness toward her. Though she didn’t say anything, she could feel her feelings for him growing.

#oc x canon #rottmnt oc #oc #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise leo #my art #rottmnt leo #Yoshimoto Emi #leonardo #leonardo hamato #yumeship #rise oc

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periwinkla · 1 year ago

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Maya Fey's character is written in such a charmingly, heart wrenchingly subtle way. She has to face all manners of tragedy, but she always has that smile on her face and presses on, feigning happiness and lightheartedness. It's honestly somewhat disturbing. How can someone smile so seemingly easily after such tragedy? Can you imagine going to your sister’s workplace, expecting to spend a quiet evening together, and instead... you see a slumped silhouette against the wall of the window? She spawns the most crazy things out of her mouth just to fill the silence sometimes. Why? Sure, it may be for the game's comic relief… but sometimes it appears a tad forced? Like it’s because she wants to build a relationship with Phoenix - like her sister asked her - and doesn't quite know how to. He’s the only person that can understand what she’s going through. She’s suffering. He’s suffering. So she needs to fill the silence somehow. And she drags him along most times, she is the one that decides they should take Power’s case, after all. After Edgeworth's trial she feels useless (even though she clearly was the reason Phoenix could save him... can you believe she just charged in against Von Karma? that's insane) and goes back home to resume her training so she can help Phoenix again. After Edgeworth's ‘death’, Phoenix didn't keep in touch. Although she didn’t know about Edgeworth, she knew that the whole year had been hard on them both in the first place... so she grew worried, and basically bargained with her client to go and get him and drag him to Kurain. Phoenix can get back into taking cases just because she's there to cheer him up. So she needs to be strong! Even though she's suffering tremendously as well. Mia isn't there anymore and now she also needs to take care of her cousin because apparently she can’t even have her aunt to rely on, because for some reason the universe decided to give her the most complicated family drama imaginable. When they face Franziska? She's awfully perceptive. She's only 18, and instead of being angry at Franziska's behavior, she wonders how she can be so strong? And she seems to admire her? Would a 18 year old accused of murder think that of the accuser? That's frankly baffling. It shows maturity far beyond her age, to think of the true feelings behind people’s behavior despite what it means for her situation. And then she gets kidnapped. And still, she feigns being fine… Then then Hazakura happens. All that and she's still thinking about other people! She tries to protect Godot, even though it's a moot point. She tries to be strong for Pearl - as Edgeworth points out - and she tries so hard to not make everything affect her. She takes everything in stride but also suppresses her feelings. And she's very very good at it, even. She seems fine. Franziska is baffled at her nonchalance, and somehow Edgeworth is the one who needs to explain it, perhaps because they had similar experiences and their tragedy is linked to the same root. Edgeworth tried to repress his feelings as well (although he is, by contrast, very very bad at hiding them) so he knows what he's talking about. I quite like that scene at the end of AA3 because that makes it deliberate on Takumi’'s part that he wanted to write her that way from the start. (it also adds to the development of 3 characters at once: Maya, Miles and Franziska) Her misfortunes don’t end here, either. SOJ happens. Kidnapped again, accused of murder again. People she trusted betray her and she finds it in her heart to forgive them? And now she also has a ton of responsibilities. And she needs to appear even stronger now in front of other people, because they depend on her. She’s still cheerful though. Because she needs to be. She first needs to be strong for Phoenix, then Pearl, then for the whole village of Kurain. And she manages to be, somehow. I love when characters are written this way. Once you have all the pieces together, if you go back and analyze their behavior, it makes the experience so much richer and so much more meaningful.

#had to summarize this a lot because tumblr apparently has a word limit?#oh well #hope I got the point across regardless #ace attorney #maya fey #aa musings #musings #soj spoilers

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mykingdomforapen · 6 months ago

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It would be easier for Lu Guang to simply swallow it down and bear it. But it wouldn’t be right.

In truth, nothing felt right. Heels of his hands pressed against his swollen, dry eyes, a crick in his neck, his heart trapped in his throat. One side of his head felt like it was being pulverized, the pain of the migraine stirring up trouble in his stomach. And Cheng Xiaoshi’s dulcet tones in his ear, his pleas no longer endearing.

Lu Guang squeezed his eyes shut at Cheng Xiaoshi’s insistence.

“Lu Guang, come on,” he said urgently. “We need to finish this.”

This was a pile of photographs lined up across their coffee table, marked in chronological order, detailing the lifespan of a relationship between two cousins. The boys had grown up together like twins, Qiao Ling had told them when she outlined the case for them, but then grew apart after one of the cousins developed a gambling addiction. The last straw was when he stole money from his cousin’s mother to feed the insatiable beast, and the cousin cut ties.

He suspects that his cousin also stole their grandmother’s jade, Qiao Ling told Lu Guang in preparation for the case. He wants us to help confirm if that’s true, and if so–if he sold it.

Which would have been straightforward enough, if the gambling cousin was still alive. Unfortunately, he wasn’t.

Hence, the ten plus photographs on the living room coffee table.

Lu Guang shifted his hands from his eyes to his temples, giving them a sorry massage that only made him more miserable. He had been poring through photos for hours now, each of them a photo uploaded to the gamblin cousin’s cloud that the client had managed to pull, dating from five years ago–when the grandmother’s jewelry had gone missing–to five months ago, when the cousin had been found dead in his tiny apartment reeking of alcohol and debt. He scoured every interaction the cousin had with their elderly grandmother for any sign of theft, while Cheng Xiaoshi dived into any photo where he could root around the cousin’s apartment for proof.

Even after five hours straight, they could neither confirm nor deny anything. The instant noodles that Qiao Ling had brought over to them had grown cold and untouched on the side. Lu Guang’s scalp scalded with the migraine, and Cheng Xiaoshi stank heavily of eucalyptus oil smeared under his nose to assuage the nausea that came from back-to-back diving. Lu Guang could smell its medicinal chill when Cheng Xiaoshi came too close to his ear.

“Can you please back off?” Lu Guang said through gritted teeth.

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed as he threw himself backwards on the chair. Lu Guang avoided looking anywhere in his direction as he unscrewed a bottle of soy milk to ease his chapped throat. Cheng XIaoshi fared none better, but he had the self-perception of a goldfish to mask it.

“We’re so close, though,” Cheng Xiaoshi said. “There were addresses to jewelry shops on his Baidu Maps search history. If we can find a photo that happened either right before or right after that one, I’m sure I can find more–”

“Cheng Xiaoshi, we’ve been at this for almost six hours,” Lu Guang groaned. “Taking a break for at least thirty minutes won’t make a difference.”

Cheng Xiaoshi huffed until his bangs flopped carelessly across his forehead. Lu Guang wiped his lips with the back of his hand, gagging slightly.

“What if I forget?” said Cheng Xiaoshi.

Lu Guang exhaled deeply, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring so that it came more as the exasperated hiss of a steamer.

“Then write it down, idiot,” he snapped. “Am I your mother?”��

Cheng Xiaoshi’s jaw clenched instinctively, just as Lu Guang’s did the same–for a moment, hesitating, ready to bite down on the words before they escaped his mouth. But they had punched their way through his teeth nonetheless, and at the end of the day, Lu Guang would have let them. Even if he knew that, while he never commented on it, it stung Cheng Xiaoshi.

Because Lu Guang had said the same the first time they had this argument.

The first time they had this argument, Lu Guang was still only twenty years old. He and Cheng Xiaoshi muddled through their abilities with curiosity and bravado. The only thing Lu Guang was afraid of was drowning, and it was abstract.

The first time, Lu Guang grumbled at Cheng Xiaoshi. I’m tired, asshole, he said. Can’t you give me a break? Cheng Xiaoshi said something tone deaf–but you don’t even have to dive, you can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you–and at that, Lu Guang stomped up to the bedroom, muttering it’s useless trying to argue with you to himself as he locked the door behind him. He burrowed himself angrily in the bedsheets and didn’t emerge until Cheng Xiaoshi cooked an entire apology dinner.

I’m sorry, Cheng Xiaoshi said quietly when Lu Guang stuffed his mouths with softened carrots. Do you–do you want to talk about it?

He said it with his back straight, even though his spine was shaking. Arguments rarely ended well in his experience–usually with a fist to the cheek, or a door slammed in his face while all the neighbors looked disapprovingly at him with full assurance that he was in the wrong. For Cheng Xiaoshi to be able to talk to Lu Guang took a bravery and a faith that he had to fight for, that he had to learn with blood, sweat, and tears to get through this life.

Yeah, Lu Guang mumbled. I do, and they had finally laid their abilities on the table next to the pot of pork shoulder soup and small bowls of dipping sauce. This was new to the both of them, their magic of a great price, and they were learning their breaking points together. Lu Guang shared his needs to be met, Cheng Xiaoshi his fears of being of no help to others, opening their hearts to make space to grow, and at the end when Cheng Xiaoshi asked Are we okay now? Lu Guang said, Even better.

So Lu Guang couldn’t grin and bear it, as much as he hated this frustration, this headache, the thought of tossing and turning on the top bunk with a heavy, hurting heart. He and Cheng Xiaoshi needed this moment where they grew so that the other could take up more space in their lives. Cheng Xiaoshi needed to learn that he would be loved even if he was upsetting. Lu Guang needed to learn to be honest. They were precious truths that would have carried them through the rest of their lives, if Cheng Xiaoshi had lived long enough for it.

Except this was the second time Lu Guang was having this argument. Everything should be the same, but he wasn’t.

He wasn’t because Cheng Xiaoshi was dead, and yet alive for now. Because Cheng Xiaoshi’s mission-driven stubbornness was what got him killed, and Lu Guang now could see the all bloodred flags leading up to September. Because Lu Guang could now name the anxiety that drove Cheng Xiaoshi into doing things now, before the wait of them consumed him alive, but Cheng Xiaoshi couldn’t yet and Lu Guang had to keep it to himself. Because he and Cheng Xiaoshi were plunging into the photos of a dead man over and over again, and every time Cheng Xiaoshi said something honest about it, Lu Guang had to swallow down how sick it made him feel. It’s so messed up, Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi had said, that this guy has been dead for half a year, and I feel his heart beating in my chest. Lu Guang buried his face in his hands and tried not to cry, even when Cheng Xiaoshi was not here to see it.

“Then write it down, idiot,” Lu Guang said, only realising belatedly he never said the last word the first time round. “Am I your mother?”

Cheng Xiaoshi flinched. Lu Guang didn’t remember that. He thought Cheng Xiaoshi only gritted his teeth. There was a gleam in Cheng Xiaoshi’s eyes that could either be tears or nausea, but Lu Guang knew better than to point it out. Any time Lu Guang pointed out where Cheng Xiaoshi was falling apart at the seams, he would dismiss them like they meant nothing, like they weren’t the reason Lu Guang couldn’t sleep at night, terrified of morning.

“The hell is wrong with you?” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered.

“I’m tired, asshole!” Lu Guang snapped. He didn’t need a script for this. He felt sick to his stomach. He felt like nothing was ever going to be right, and he didn’t know how to make it better. He didn’t know what to do. “Can’t you give me a break?”

“But you don’t even have to dive!” Cheng Xiaoshi protested. “You can just sit there and tell me what to do, it’s easy for you!”

Was it easy? Was it easy to watch Cheng Xiaoshi throw himself into the past over and over again and shrug off Lu Guang’s concern as unnecessary, until he ended up on the wrong side of the bullet? To try again and again to look for what went wrong in the past, obsessing over each detail and torn butterfly wing until he scrounged for the right answer? To feel old and young at once, helpless and culpable simultaneously? To constantly lie, even though he was supposed to have grown to be honest?

Go upstairs, his memory urged him. Lock the door behind you. Go.

But something fiercer, louder than his memory took hold of him, balling itself into a fiery pit in his throat and scalding its way out of him.

“It’s easy for me?” Lu Guang choked out. “Is it? I’m the one who has to try and figure out how to fix everything! I have to fix everything, and you never think twice!”

Lu Guang felt the tears bully their way to his lashes, no matter how much he tried to fight them back. He stared at Cheng Xiaoshi until his vision blurred with sickness and fury, the boy he was supposed to save and couldn’t help but fail. I don’t know what to do, his soul cried out. I’m the only one who can fix this and I don’t even know what to do.

“Useless!” Lu Guang hurled.

He didn’t know to whom he was shouting it, but he knew as soon as it landed that he aimed it at the wrong place. Cheng Xiaoshi froze, breath stuck midway up his throat, eyes wide as if he had been shot in the stomach, and Lu Guang knew that look too well. He went as still as stone, scarcely breathing as Lu Guang’s voice settled like the remains of an earthquake, leaving behind silent wreckage.

Lu Guang caught up with his breath, dizzy with the catharsis, until its tingling numbness gave way to sudden realization. This was not how any of this was supposed to go.

Cheng Xiaoshi blinked rapidly, looking away–the tightening of his jaw could not mask the way his lips shook.

“Forget it, then,” Cheng Xiaoshi muttered. “Let’s just–yeah. Break. Sounds good.”

He stood up from the seat and left the room quickly, shoving his hands into his jacket pocket. He hurried out the front door of the shop, the twinkling of the door bell the only thing keeping Lu Guang company as he was left behind in the sunroom.

#link click #LC writes #cheng xiaoshi #lu guang #in my gdocs this is titled 'LG soiled the friendship garden'

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yingdu-lover · 6 months ago

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Right now, I can't cite those sources, I'll paste the link when I find them.

Rambling time!

Omg, I have always thought about this! Cheng Xiaoshi is

1. Tall, tanned and handsome (fork in the kitchen, surprise!)

2. Talented singer, so much so that Lu Guang closes his eyes and then sincerely compliments with a solemn expression. (ref - ep 8, season 1)

3. Skilled basketball player, athelete

4. Also skilled in martial arts

and something, SOMETHING even I misinterpreted very much, and this is coming from Li Haoling himself,

5. Cheng Xiaoshi is also academically gifted. Lu Guang and his first meeting was in high school and after qualifying university entrance examination, they got into the same tier university. Haoling describes Cheng Xiaoshi as someone who will perform badly in class, getting 60 or something in class tests and will pull an all nighter before exams and score 90 or above.

So the kind of 'good for nothing' image of Cheng Xiaoshi (ik not all but there are people) is not true. He is truly a multi-talented guy with a charming and cheerful personality (I mean come on his mbti is ESFP).

About his popularity and having friends...

I have always headcanoned that Cheng Xiaoshi chose Lu Guang one day and just never let him go. His choice to spend time with Lu Guang is an active choice and not out of his status of being 'friendless'. I have no one so I'll hang out with lu guang because he only tolerates me/gives me 'patta'. Nope.

The host asks Haoling why Qiao Ling said that before Lu Guang, Cheng Xiaoshi didn't have any friends...and Haoling replies with,

"There is a difference between ordinary friends and true friends, Qiao Ling is referring to the latter. The kind of friend you would open your heart to, embrace with your body and heart, show your most vulnerable core..."

So Lu Guang is that to Cheng Xiaoshi.

I mean, yes, people have different interpretations but I have always been very uncomfortable with that discourse which undermines the intimate bond Shiguang share, it's very underwhelming.

It's both psychological and physical. Season 1 is full of these moments. For Lu Guang, I can say he is the kind of person who just doesn't care about people (I think people might misinterpret it. let me explain. I am not implying he is a sociopath, he is responsible, he manages a lot of things and he considers a given situation with due seriousness BUT he is never actively trying to discuss his extremely personal judgement with anyone EXCEPT your name is Cheng Xiaoshi. He is rational, aloof, respectful towards others as it is a general decorum he follows; all of these have an avalanche breakdown while interacting with Cheng Xiaoshi. I can tell you ( as a fellow introvert scorpio who almost shares his mbti, he judges, I prospect) Lu Guang will probably never curse anyone who is not Cheng Xiaoshi. Decorum and etiquette gives away when he is with him. He does not care about what kind of impression others get of him, but his otherwise solemn demeanour just deliciously fails- he gets angry, frustrated, extremely angry, he (sharply) mocks, he calls him names because he can. Cheng Xiaoshi can install all those feelings in him which he never really publicly displays. Throughout season 1, we often forget that we witness extremely intimate and private Shiguang moments. The stories of the clients progress as it leaves room for Shiguang to interact. The way Lu Guang straight up yells at Cheng Xiaoshi sometimes when he doesn't seem to understand something is so relatable lol. There are fools who allude to that chibi episode where Cheng Xiaoshi asks Lu Guang with hopeful™ eyes " do you think I am handsome?" and Lu Guang goes like "😨🤢🤮" and try to argue that Lu Guang is het 😭 man. Get some IQ. Lmao, Shiguang bicker like an old married couple, and tbh I would react similarly if I had a partner like that.), he cares about Cheng Xiaoshi's morals and perceptions. He seems to be very possessive of Cheng Xiaoshi but Cheng Xiaoshi being Lu Guang's Cheng Xiaoshi does not mind it.

I can't fucking forget that scene when inspector Xiao Li approached Cheng Xiaoshi for Emma's case and Lu Guang just grabbed his wrist and straight up said to the police inspector with all seriousness,

"Before talking to him, you have to talk to me."

I mean- bro-

Cheng Xiaoshi is an adult goddamnit. Lu Guang has no interest in negotiating or discussing the case, and no that is NOT the behaviour of a business partner/manager.

Yingdu episode 1 : Normal friends do not move into your house as an act of apologising. Lu Guang went - I was the reason you were injured, I apologise, I will stay with you (as compensation?). And the conversation escalated to the point where he said "I'll never leave."

heh?

And in ep 8, season 1, he is telling Cheng Xiaoshi to sleep on the couch 😭 bitch it is his house.

(ok, while writing I just suddenly teared up thinking that Lu Guang's Cheng Xiaoshi died. We will never see their original interaction, the Cheng Xiaoshi Lu Guang probably imagined his future with...there was a violent separation and everything stopped altogether. This Cheng Xiaoshi-ok ok it's too painful to think rn I can't )

um, I might have had a shiguang meltdown and I can't continue this rn. will edit later

hi, I came back

so,

about lu guang, we get to see 50 shades of lu guang only because cheng xiaoshi is there.

on the other hand, cheng xiaoshi...

I can't stop thinking about the earthquake episode. Cheng Xiaoshi slapped lu guang. Then hugged him while crying. Then lu guang calls him 'silly melon'. Can you fathom this level of emotional intimacy with someone? what level of intimacy would you need to achieve to let the very person hold you gently and intimately and call you by sweet nicknames who offended you in the first place? it's huge. Cheng Xiaoshi's trust in lu guang is beyond comprehension and no it's not just portrayed in life and death situations, rather shown in vignettes of everyday suffering.

#link click #shiguang daili ren #shiguang #lu guang #cheng xiaoshi #yingdu chapter #donghua #时光代理人 #bridon arc #guangshi

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inmydeluluimagination · 1 month ago

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Turbulent Fate Ch. 2

A/N: This is a story between Squid Games Recruiter/Salesman and Y/N-Reader

In this story his name is Ji-Won Cho. Hope you enjoy.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

You manage to come up with the most compelling argument as to why Ji-Won just had to go to Hyun-woo. Luckily for you your boss agreed, understanding your position.

You’re happy when you don’t hear from Ji-Won. You assume that he probably thought you were silly and you accept that will be his perception of you moving forward. It wouldn’t be any different from your high school days anyway.

You see him have a seat in the waiting area thanks to your glass office and you can’t thank the gods enough that you were with Mr. Park, an older gentleman COO of a company that scrutinized his portfolio from top to bottom. It didn't matter day or month or year. His appointment was a minimum hour long and it had just begun.

You get into the details regarding Mr. Park’s portfolio when there is a ping on your computer. It was your manager followed by another and another.

Kang-dae: Y/N

Kang-dae: Can you step away from Mr. Park for a second?

Kang-dae: It’s urgent!

Y/N: Uh let me see. whats the issue?

Kang-dae: Your client

Your stomach drops

Y/N: Give me a minute

“Mr. Park, can you please excuse me for a second? “

“What is it?"

“I have to talk to my manager about an urgent issue.” You hand him the tablet filled with your notes. "I wrote down some notes for you to review when I come back we can resume"

“Fine hurry up!”

“Thank you! Mr. Park” You bow and walk out of the office on your way to your manager

In the corner of your eye you see Ji-Won and Hyun-woo standing in his office Ji-Won throwing his hands around

“Y/N” your manager calls to you pulling you in “he is threatening to pull out his money and go to a different bank please just take him” he pleads

“Hyun-woo is a much better investor than I am”

He scoffs at your reasoning that wasn’t true hadn’t been true for the past few years. “Thats not the point Y/N I can’t have 1 Billion Won pulled out or its all our asses please I am begging you free lunch on me for a month “

You sneak to look into Hyun-woo’s office “What is he saying?”

“He is saying he doesn’t want anyone else but you and unless he is reassigned to you he will be pulling his money out all of it today!”

Your head whips around to look at your boss “He can’t do that!”

“He knows that! He doesn’t care! He said the money is going to come from somewhere either the banks or us"

You groan internally “did you offer yourself?”

“YES!”

“He still doesn’t” the sinking feeling in your stomach resumes again

“NO! Please I’ll buy you lunch for a month”

“A year plus dinner” you bargain

“What?”

“I want free lunch and dinner” you affirm

“1 year free lunch and 6 months free dinner and you got a deal”

You roll your eyes “Fine I have to go back to Mr. Park”

“I will smooth things over. Do you have space in your calendar for today?”

“I don’t know later in the week maybe or next week”

“I’ll look into it!”

On your way back you from your peripheral you notice his body following your movement from Hyun-woo’s office you train your eyes on the floor and resume with Mr. Park

“I’m back apologies on that Mr. Park”

“Great notes Y/N!” He smiled at you

“Oh thanks!”

“Can we add these moving forward?” he asks

“Notes? Yea sure. Okay I know we left off on the Tech Company”

“Yes I want to buy more stocks”

“Sure let’s look at the current stock prices”

You get so wrapped up in Mr. Park you don’t notice Ji-Won leave the building and you’re thankful for that.

After work you leave and head for the nearest luxury shopping center. You splurge a little buying good smelling perfumes and lotions not that you weren’t already smelling great but there's something to be said about bullying and how it affects your behaviors. You buy some more high end work clothes before heading home

At home you pull up your work laptop to catch up on any missing items when you realize you had a new meeting scheduled for Friday with Ji-Won. You release a frustrated sigh. Why you? Why now? Why here? All the other KB banks he could have gone to he chose yours specifically. Hell Seoul had a better team. Was this all a coincidence or intentional? Was he returning for round 2 of bullying? There's no way you would agree to being bullied again as an adult at that!

Friday comes along and you don your new outfit and perfume maybe if you felt confident you could push through this. With the hopes that eventually you wouldn’t be nervous around him all the time

“Mr. Cho” you call to him from the sitting area. He doesn’t smile or anything just gets up and walks to your office

“How are you?” you ask as you step into your office. He doesn’t say anything instead takes a seat in your office. Your mind races and flashes back to when you left his house. You cringe internally before focusing on the computer pulling up his portfolio “Here is your portfolio. Doing good so far projected profit for end of year is 200 million won of course the longer you invest the better it will be” He nods looking at the screen "There was a slight decrease in the Kia portfolio due to the recent recall, but that is projected to go back up once the company provides information on what parts need to be fixed.” He still says nothing fixing his eyes on the screen “for the Genesis portfolio the stock is steady they plan to release a new vehicle by end of year so that will swing back up tremendously. You take a pause to allow him to ask questions but still he says nothing “Uh for the real estate theres new land being bought and looking to add luxury townhomes along with single family homes in the surrounding area outside the city, for the tech the...”

He interrupts you “Was it you?” he asks sitting back

“Excuse me?”

He leans back on his chair not interested in talking about stock anymore. “Were you the one who asked for me to be assigned to Hyun-woo?”

You feel your face flush and answer quickly “well n-n-no, because you’re a new investor and my calendar being so busy we thought Hyun-woo would be the best portfolio manager for you” you repeat the same lie that was told to him when he came in earlier this week

“Hmmm” he hums with a suspicious tone

“But that won’t happen again Mr. Cho"

“Told you to call me Ji-Won” he remarks

“Oh I can't do that Mr. Cho...” He smirks in response. You clear your throat “So about the tech portfolio..” he leans back in

Ji-Won continued to drop in month after month until the warm spring months hit, it was nothing crazy and you had gotten used to his mannerisms, from time to time you would catch how he looked at you. For quick moment he would look at you with soft eyes before he returned to his stoicism.

“How’s it going?” your boss asks you after Ji-Won left the office

You shrug “it's going”

“Nothing bad?”

“Nope he’s happy” you smile typing away

“Good so what's lunch today?”

You smile “Oh I don’t know I’m gonna get something expensive though” you beam rubbing it in. He rolls his eyes and walks away

The next month you sit watching the waiting area waiting for Ji-Won, he was already 20 minutes late, luckily you don’t have any other clients. When the hour mark reached it was closing time.

From: Y/N L/N@ KBKBank.com To: [email protected] Subject: Missed Meeting Today Hi Mr. Cho, I hope all is well. Our meeting was missed today. I have attached notes to go over the portfolio. Please let me know if you need anything else. Best Regards, Y/N L/N Portfolio Manager KB Kookmin Bank Busan Branch # 10

“Ugh it's raining outside” you comment to Kimberly

“I’m gonna wait till the rain stops” she comments

“I have to go” you state, pulling out your umbrella. Your car was at the mechanic and you needed to stop by and get an update on the issue

“Be careful”

“I will, see you later Kimberly”

You walk out the door grasping your umbrella and coat close to your body as the rain was coming down hard but you didn’t have time to waste as you had to make it to the mechanic before it closed and the time to get home adding rain would be around 1 hour due to traffic.

As you hastily walk making your way to the metro you hear your name and look up from the crowd

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!”

You look up following the sound it was Ji-Won in his new Genesis G-Sport SUV waving you over standing on the passenger side where he called you from

“Mr. Cho! Sorry I missed you today” he had gotten used to you calling him Mr. Cho and no longer fought you on that

“I got tied up!” He waves his hands urging you to get closer you thought

You step closer “It's okay I sent an email with notes if you need me to reschedule ano...”

“Get in!” He looks at you as if you have 3 heads, he was nowhere interested in discussing stocks at the moment

You step back instinctively “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“I said get in!” He repeats more forcefully

“Oh I can’t do that Mr. Cho I’m not too far from the metro really it's fine” by this time you were soaking wet despite the umbrella and coat the wind made the rain go everywhere and anywhere

“Y/N I insist”

You look between him and the seat rapidly. You shake your head again “No really” you point to the metro station. “I don't want to mess up your new car Mr. Cho.” You politely bow hoping he would accept your reasoning and let you go because you were being battered by the rain. You see his head droop down and he opens his door and you rapidly shake your head. You hadn’t made it too far away from the office. Anyone could be watching hell half the people on that street could be people from adjacent buildings/offices who knew your job.

“Really Mr. Cho it's fine, I’m wet and your new car” you begin to speak as he approaches you

Without saying a word to you he opens up the passenger door as he is also getting rained on “get in Y/N” he speaks with an assertive tone

“Uh this isn't allo..”

With his hand on your back “come on” he gently ushers you into the seat taking the umbrella form you tossing it in the back. When he gets in he wipes his face and turns to face you

“Thank you Mr. Cho you, you can just drop me at the metro” bow politely

“It’s no problem”

“Your new car”

“I said it's no problem didn’t I?” he retorts slightly miffed that he had to get wet just to get you into his car. He brings up the GPS app and turns to look at you “where do you live?”

“Oh you can just drop me off at the metro”

“You think I got wet just to drop you off less than a mile from here?”

“I uhh” you try to come up with a reason

“Where do you live?”

“Sasang-gu” you mumble

“Ahhh” he smiles “Cute neighborhood” he closes the app and begins his travel to Sasang-gu as you listen to the radio. From time to time he looks over at you as you sit still like a statue

“Can we go over the notes you sent?” he asks

“Yes of course!” you pull out your work phone and start to read through the comments you made for each portfolio he asks a few questions here and there but nothing too serious that would require you to follow up in detail

“Here is fine” you say motioning to the little shopping area that held a pharmacy you say as he pulls into the neighborhood. You would follow up on your car the next day.

“You sure? I can wait and take you home directly”

You shake your head “No no it's fine I have a meeting with the pharmacists thank you Mr. Cho”

“Don’t mention it” he says half saluting you as you exit the car.

You grip everything tightly and walk into the pharmacy. Admittedly you stay longer than usual asking nonsensical questions so that if he indeed waited he would get impatient and drive off. Before you leave the pharmacy you peek outside to see his car isn’t anywhere close to the vicinity.

You take in a deep breath and continue walking to your house a 15 minute walk and you're home glad that the day is over.

A/N: Please tell me what you think. Please only repost or like don't post without giving credit.

#gong yoo #gong yoo squid game #gong yoo imagine #squid game salesman #squid game gong yoo #squid game x y/n #squid game #squid game x reader #squid game x you #fan fiction #fan art #fanfiction #fanfic #gongyoo #squidgame #squid game season 2 #the salesman #gong yoo x reader #gong yoo x you

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avoidantrecovery · 1 year ago

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my thoughts on rejection sensitivity, fawning, criticism and how i want to get better about them

these are just some notes/me thinking aloud/me writing notes to myself and putting things into perspective/connecting some dots. maybe others can relate.

✦ abandonment/rejection based trauma leads to... ✦ needing to be accepted and liked by any- and everyone (fawning) to restore safety/ensure feeling safe which leads to... ✦ due to being stuck in trauma response/having a trauma rewired brain: strong sensitivity and fear of any kind of rejection or criticism, which leads to... ✦ responsibility for your emotions and self-perceptions are outsourced (for the lack of a better word) to (random) third persons (who are not even aware of this). which leads to... ✦ difficulty to interact and communicate with people without crushing hypervigilance, anxiety, numbing, strong emotional reactions... leads to... ✦ random third parties and their reaction to us (be it via facial expressions, tone, conversation, action or inaction, etc...) now makes or breaks our emotional state ✦ a positive reaction gives us (if we're lucky) positive emotions (dopamine, safety, elation) a negative reaction however leads to the exact opposite -> we are at the whims of random people ✦ inevitable negative feedback then leads to severe negative emotions including anxiety, shame, self-devaluing and self-abuse ✦ this becomes a cycle of wanting others to reflect that "we are good" back to us in places where it's not relevant and will lead to negative feedback and rejection, isolating and then doing it all over again.

what to do instead?

✸ realize that this is a cycle that is happening and why (trauma) ✸ be mindful and have self-compassion for your past (fawning) behaviour to avoid shame and self-hate (you were stuck in a trauma response, not doing it on purpose) ✸ realize that minute reactions of all people doesn't have to matter to you. this is something you have to practise day in day out, because your brain is stuck in this mode. ✸ it's fucked up that we often have to deal with people who are outright hostile and having a negative reaction to that is normal and healthy. however, everyone who has ever felt the overwhelming crushing sensation of rejection sensitivity knows there is a difference between that and "a healthy negative reaction". ✸ we shouldn't have to internalize and emotionally tattoo every minute thing someone else says or does to us, esp. if they are hostile ✸ it shouldn't control us for the rest of the day, week, month or even longer ✸ there is nothing we can do to control others behaviour (even by prostrating and fawning to the max), it is not even our responsibility, but we can try to better manage and process our own emotions to ensure we are not constantly dysregulated. ✸ use "the levels method" to sort to what degree someone's feedback matters to you ✸ realize that you will probably fall back into old behaviour patterns because "nerves that fire together, wire together". meaning it is through repetition that we form new habits and it's by reducing "firing" old behaviour patterns that we are able to eventually let them go.

the levels method

✸ level 1: random strangers on the street: 0.5/5 ✸ level 2: random people you see daily (neighbors, barista, etc...): 1/5 ✸ level 3: work/school people 2/5 (only professional/educational stuff matters, do not take things personal or internalize professional critic as personal critic, i know this is hard and often unfair) ✸level 4: acquaintances and friends: 3/5 ✸ level 5: family and good friends: 4/5 ✸ level 6: your own selected loved ones 5/5

☞ i just came up with this little method that i will try to use to weigh my emotions and how seriously i have to take people's reactions to me. again, it's not easy and it's something that has to be practised to get right. however, the idea is to get away from processing the random reaction of a stranger, or even of a co-worker or client, with the same intensity and seriousness of selected loved one whose feedback i obviously care about a lot.

what if i don't have loved ones?

✸ this is one thing that has been bothering me ✸ i think for some people the "outsourcing" of emotions onto other people and that whole cycle, is intensified by not having any selected loved ones due to isolation etc... ✸ it's likely that you will, perhaps without being aware of it, begin to look for emotional feedback (to feel safe due to trauma brain) from people who fall within level 1-level 3 or 4. ✸ people need social contact and if there is nobody else around we might look to have our emotional needs met by people who aren't even aware or responsible for that ✸ i am currently in this situation and all i can do for now, until i do find new selected loved ones, is to be aware when i do it and steer away from it when it happens. ✸ if you are in contact with family or friends, this can be a better outlet as random strangers or classmates/co-workers

(not medical advice, just thinking out loud)

#avpd recovery #avoidant personality disorder #avoidant #avoidance #rejection sensitivity #rejection #ostracism #rejection sensitive dysphoria #criticism #fawning #cptsd fawn

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iamsherlocked-1998 · 10 months ago

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NUTS AND ENGINES

SUMMARY: A visit to the mechanic and a new beginning.

WORDS: 1200

WARNING: Nope, only that the reader is a Mandalorian here and not Din, so when I say "Mando" it´s about her.

In the bustling spaceport of Mos Eisley, Din Djarin worked diligently in his small mechanic's shop, surrounded by the hum of engines and the clatter of tools. He was aware of the fame he had built up over the past few years, known for his ability to repair all manner of spacecraft, Din considered himself a quiet and solitary figure, but affable and cheerful, content with the mild isolation of his work.

One day, a mysterious figure dressed in Mandalorian armor entered his shop, seeking repairs for her ship. He couldn't help but shudder a little, his scant knowledge of them based on perceptions from childhood when he was rescued from the ashes of what used to be his forgotten home before being sent to this piece of land to live with a relative he barely knew.

The first day she just hung around the workshop and briefly introduced herself as Mando, but an old friend from an adjacent cantina managed to find out that the enigmatic woman turned out to be a renowned and legendary bounty hunter with a reputation that preceded her. Intrigued by the enigmatic Mandalorian before him, the next day Din offered to work on the ship, eager to test his mechanical prowess.

"It could use a tune-up and my usual mechanics are taking a break, how many credits would that be?"

Djarin offered a sardonic smile.

"Well, that's something you can't know until you check it out in depth, sweetheart, but I promise I'll give you a good price" (That was accompanied by a slight wink in a crude attempt to get attention).

The Mandalorian just nodded softly and left without another word, leaving the man blushing intensely. That wasn't even close to what he regretted the most. As Din delved into the intricate repairs of the ancient ship, which could well be described as a relic, he reflected on the other, much more interesting things he could be doing, but he was still a man of his word and he wasn't going to give up. Despite the two brief interactions, he couldn't help but feel drawn to the stoic yet captivating presence of the Mandalorian warrior. Their conversations were meaningful, with an unspoken understanding floating in the air between them, especially when the woman simply rolled up her sleeves and began to help him.

"Where did you learn?" (The question surprised the dark-haired man, but he wasn't going to waste the opportunity).

"Well, when I was young I spent a lot of time alone because my uncle wasn't a man of many words and even less with alcohol, so one day I went to the city and signed up as an apprentice, that's how I earned a living and killed time".

The woman turned her visor to the ground thoughtfully.

"Is that where you got the necklace from?"

He was about to ask when she looked where the jacket was leaning, it was a kind of tool box where he kept an amulet from the worst day of his life. A mythosaur.

"No... I don't like to talk about it but your people helped me in a time of need and I preferred to keep it".

"I could say the same".

The man reached for a dirty rag to remove the oil dirt from his hands. A sigh of understanding left his lips.

"Is it true what they say, you always wear that helmet?" (He pointed to his own face inquisitively).

"This is the way".

The days passed in apparent tranquility, the young woman had become a little more vocal and was proud of having gotten a kind of laugh out of her once. However, before Din could finish his work, chaos erupted in the spaceport as a group of bounty hunters descended upon the girl, seeking to claim the bounty on her head. Instinctively, Din sprang into action, using the few skills his uncle, a man better with his fists than with words, had instilled in him, upbringing to support Mando and fend off attackers.

He and his peculiar client barricaded themselves behind a set of scrap metal. The woman had a sharp aim that made him think with pity of their targets if they weren't in this situation.

In the heat of battle, Din entered the ship for added safety while his partner dealt with several stray undesirables mercilessly. He inadvertently discovered a secret Mando had been hiding: a small, green creature emerged from a cubbyhole of sorts, looking frightened and immediately turning its face away when the mechanic approached.

"Hey... little one, it's okay" (the man extended a finger for the boy to hold, which helped, as he was able to pick up the baby and find a better place to hide).

So that was the reason the woman was so scrupulous about emptying the warehouse before starting work and always left for a while, maybe she knew someone nearby who helped her with the child.

Once she understood that the man was inside, the child's guardian (mother?) entered the ship abruptly and prepared to take off. Apparently the rescued pupil was named Grogu, he had a connection to the Force like nothing Din had ever seen before, although the Mandalorian never heard of it. This revelation struck a chord within Din, awakening emotions and memories long buried in him, when he lost his parents as a tender infant.

A few hours later Grogu entertained himself by floating Din's necklace through the air, the only thing he could rescue when the attackers were too many and left without further delay.

"He is amazing" (Djarin meant it, he understood that any self-respecting person would want to keep him safe).

"He is" (The woman used a surprisingly soft tone) "You can't go back to that place, now they will look for you too".

With no choice but to leave the safety of Mos Eisley behind, Din made the fateful decision to accompany Mando and Grogu on their journey, his heart torn between the prudence of duty and the new connection he felt towards them.

“I suppose there is no other remedy, at least for now. Would a mechanic suit you?”

The hunter said nothing but the playful clicking of fingers on the control panel expressed all he needed to know.

Weeks turned into months. As they traversed the galaxy together, facing danger and adventure at every turn, Din and Mando found themselves growing closer, their bond forged through trials and challenges that tested their resolve. In the quiet moments beneath the starry sky, Din found solace in the reserved woman’s unwavering strength and determination, while she discovered a depth of compassion and loyalty in Din’s open character that touched her heart. Casual touches turned to frantic kisses in the darkness of the ship’s belly.

Amidst the chaos of their unpredictable lives, love blossomed between the stoic Mandalorian bounty hunter and the intrepid mechanic, tying their destinies together in a story written in the stars. And as they sailed across the vast expanse of the galaxy side by side, Djarin and Mando knew that in each other they had found something worth fighting for: a love that transcended the boundaries of space and time, binding them together in a bond that was as unbreakable as beskar steel.

NOTE: This was really funny to write, maybe I'll write about this universe again, the fic is an idea of @toomanystoriessolittletime for the 8k celebration, hope you like it 🤗💕

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #mando!reader #mechanic Din Djarin

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multidimensionalguidance · 1 year ago

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📚💸 Career + Wealth Analysis 💸📚

One of the most frequent questions astrologers receive from their clients when doing a chart reading is about their career, profession or work.

The labor we do on an everyday basis is essential when it comes to our finances and self fulfillment. It can either be something we enjoy doing that meets all of our needs, or what brings a paycheck yet lacks inner satisfaction.

There are several ways to confirm if the work you are doing is activating your Venus properly, and you may wonder why that planet in particular? Simple! Venus is related to finances, luxury, and comfort. The jobs that align with our Venus sign tend to be the ones that not only fits into our financial needs, but also provides a genuine feeling of contentment.

So, if you want the straight forward answer to “What career/field/job/hobby can help me create wealth and feel joyful about it?” Then Venus is your short answer. Remember that wealth will look differently for everyone since we all have different perceptions of how much money is truly enough to have the lifestyle we dream of.

Look for the Sidereal sign that your Venus falls in, find below the careers or fields related to it, and confirm for yourself the difference in your wealth accumulation once you incorporate it into your life.

Note: please keep in mind that if your Venus is conj, square or opposite a malefic planet/s (Mars, Saturn, Rahu/Ketu), there will be some natural resistance or challenges that you will experience throughout life with work, job, profession, or financial matters. Venus in Virgo, Scorpio, and Capricorn to a degree could also experience similar experiences.

The house where this planet is placed also tells a lot about the way your job manifests in your life (places, people, etc). Now, there are many ways to remediate any negative effects, so no need to be concerned or feel doomed.

There are many advanced Vedic Astrologers who mostly focus on remediation of planets that are in difficult or challenged positions, so take a look at the options available if you ever feel like there's an extra difficulty for you in those matters.

♈️➡️ Vocations that require independence, daring and the pioneering spirit: entrepreneurs, pioneers in any field, idea people, those who initiate new projects, troubleshooters, directors, adventurers, executives.

Firemen or fire fighters, forest rangers, engineers (metallurgical), members of the armed forces, firearms experts, police officers, machinists, mechanics, iron and steel workers, locksmiths, welders, athletics that involve speed and daring, race car drivers, contact sports, boxers, dancers, movement therapists, physical education instructors, surgeons.

♉️➡️ Vocations dealing with the earth and substance: farmers, ranchers, agriculture instructors, landscape architects, gardeners, rock collectors (semi-precious gems), builders, carpenters, building contractors, concrete pourers, chiropractors, massage therapists, computer programmers.

Occupations involved with money and finance: bankers, bank tellers, stock brokers, financiers, money managers, investment advisors, security analysts, treasurers, economists.

Artists, sculptors, jewelers, pottery makers, fashion designers, tailors, florists, musicians, singers, voice teachers, throat specialists.

♊️➡️ Vocations involved with communication or transportation: authors, proofreaders, ad copywriters, screenplay writers, editors, reporters, teachers, lecturers, linguists, speech therapists, librarians, bookstore owners, publishers, magazine employees.

Radio operators or disc jockeys, television producers, telephone operators or repair persons, telemarketers, stationery store owners, journalists, salespeople, printers, book distributors, clerks, office workers, secretaries, typists, typesetters.

Messengers, mail carriers, taxi drivers, bus drivers, railway employees, plane pilots, accountants, jacks-of-all-trades. Can engage in two or more occupations at once.

♋️➡️ Vocations that nurture: physically or emotionally (especially through food): caterers, restaurant owners, chefs, cooks, bakers, waiters and waitresses, confectioners, dairy farmers, grocers, food distributors, nutritionists.

Social workers, counselors, psychics, nurses, family therapists, preschool teachers, children's writers, tioners, caretakers, water-related occupations, plumbers, swimmers, lifeguards, fishermen.

All careers dealing with the home: realtors, hotel managers, innkeepers, homemakers, governesses, maids, laundry workers.

♌️➡️ Performers of all types: actors and actresses, playwrights, entertainers, dancers, singers, musicians, movie stars, circus performers, jugglers, clowns, sports figures, teachers (good teachers are entertainers), amuse ment park owners, speculators, gamblers.

Leaders of all types: executives, managers, government officials, politicians, foremen, judges, athletes, salespeople, the profession of selling, promoters, dia: mond and precious metal brokers, gold workers, heart specialists, all vocations involving children.

♍️➡️ Vocations dealing with analysis, detail and technical expertise: statisticians, accountants, book-keepers, computer programmers, teachers of technical subjects, stenographers, critics, inspectors of all types, draftsmen, graphic artists, technical illustrators, crafts-people, specialists.

Health occupations and the social services, mental health workers, therapists, psychiatrists, psychoanalysts, social workers, employment counselors, nurses, doctors, massage therapists, respiratory techairians, dental hygienists, dentists, secretaries, office managers, food service worker, nutritionist, waiters and waitresses, dieticians, veterinarians, zoologist, sanitation workers, janitors, public health officials, house cleaners, butlers.

♎️➡️ Vocations that pursue balance, harmony and justice: negotiators and counselors of all types, marriage counselors, wedding related businesses, diplomats, labor arbitrators, judges, lawyers, managers, salespeople.

Occupations dealing with beauty: artists, architects, painters, illustrators, photographers, fashion designers, fashion industry workers, milliners, color consultants, clothing store owners or salespeople, beauticians, hairdressers, cosmeticians, interior and exterior decorators, cosmetic manufacturers and dealers, jewelers, florists, candy makers.

♏️➡️ Vocations that focus on uncovering hidden secrets: researchers, muckraking journalists, investigators, detectives, physicists, occultists, those who work behind the scenes, espionage agents, psychics, astrologers, all matters dealing with death, funeral home directors, morticians, cemetery workers, insurance salespeople, soldiers, those working under the earth, undertakers.

Those who work as healers. all medical practitioners, physicians, nurses, psychiatrists, psychologists, surgeons, pharmacists, pathologists, past-life investigators, hospice workers, chemists, music therapist, musicians.

♐️➡️ Vocations dealing with exploration, travel and adventure: explorers, astronomers, travel agents, airline employees, flight attendants, astronauts, import-export agents, foreign correspondents, language interpreters, traveling salespeople, promoters, customs officers, athletes of all types, archers, sporting goods manufacturers, horse trainers, breeders and jockeys.

Occupations dealing with higher knowledge: philosophers, college professors, ministers, theologians, missionaries, preachers, orators, publishers, metaphysical writers, philanthropists, lawyers.

♑️➡️ Vocations dealing with administering and organizing: administrators of all types, managers, business owners, executives, government officials, politicians, judges, manufacturers, coordinators, principals at schools, wardens, disciplinarians, buyers, consul-tants, vocational counselors.

Occupations that work with form and structure: architects, contractors, builders, carpenterivil and rivil and get industrial engineers, economists, chiropractors, orthopedic specialists, osteopaths, miners, landowners, mountain climbers.

♒️➡️ Vocations dealing with progress and inven-tion: inventors, scientists, educators, researchers, astrologers, social workers, psychologists, futurists, humanitarians, social reformers, United Nations workers, employees of world relief organizations, future-oriented occupations, astronauts, airplane pilots, aviators, parachutists, hang glider pilots, solar energy researchers, physicists, radio and television technicians, electricians, electrical engineers.

♓️➡️ Vocations of a spiritual, healing or artistic na-ture: religious workers, priests, monks, nuns, sisters of mercy, rabbis, clairvoyants, mediums, charity workers, prison workers.

Physicians, faith healers, psychic healers, nurses, hospital workers, psychiatrists, psychologists, hypnotists, anesthesiologists, podiatrists. Poets, musicians, writers (inspirational, fantasy, metaphysical, science fiction), actors, dancers, painters, artists, entertainers, comedians, singers, filmmakers.

Water-related activities, fishermen, sailors, divers, swimmers, lifeguards, marine scientists, oceanographers, bartenders, oil industry workers.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Is your Venus sign all you need to know to find all the clues and perfect descriptions to tailor your ideal professional life? No, but it is a huge start in a small way and with short information.

If you guys would like to go more in depth with career astrology, then also take your time to check the following, and find the common theme:

•10H sign + where its lord is located

•D10 Lagna (Dasamsa chart)

•Mahadasha planet in your chart, the house its located, and where the lord goes.

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meowcats734 · 28 days ago

Text

“You don’t have to stay with me,” Ana said.

I glanced over at her. Sampson began to sprout vines from the cracks in his bones when he got too close to her altered body, so Ana was watching him gnaw at a stick with an achingly empty expression.

“Are you saying that because you think I’d rather be somewhere else? Or because you want time to yourself?” I asked.

The only sound was Sampson’s teeth gnashing around the stick. He tried to bring the stick to us, but Ana whistled sharply, pointed downwards, and he dropped the stick, confused. The blue flames around his ears dipped a tiny bit lower. “I… I want time to myself,” she said.

“Of course.” I made sure not to stand up too quickly or look away. Made sure to hide the way my stomach dropped and the doubts that never dared show themself around Ana whispered she wants you gone, you hurt her by existing, you should never have dated her. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Tsu?” Ana asked, and fuck, there was nothing more beautiful than the simple fact that she wanted me to stay a moment longer. She met my eyes and said, “I’ll be back by sundown. Promise.”

“It’s a date,” I said, and she closed her eyes, basking in the words.

I let that warmth carry me out of the cemetery. I think I got out of her line of sight before the anxieties came back.

You need to help her.

“This is helping her,” I muttered to myself.

This is your fault.

“What’s my fault?” I asked.

Everything.

“So the good stuff’s my fault too?”

The nattering anxieties quieted down for a second. Then, as if the past few seconds had never happened, the thoughts came surging back. You don’t deserve to exist.

Fucking hell. There was a reason I related so much to Thom. Speaking of which… that was when Ana’s spectivity started, wasn’t it? The guilt around hospitalizing Thom? Maybe I could reach out to him, see if I could arrange a meeting. I had the right to follow up on a previous client…

Ugh, not right now, though. Not when I couldn’t tell how much of what I was thinking was me and how much of it was a desperate need to fix and save and protect because how else can you repay the world for the cost of your existence, how else can you justify continuing to exist—

“Ana would be miserable if I died,” I said, slowly. A construction worker in a reflective vest gave me a quizzical look as I passed, and I shook my head. “It’s not like I’m physically capable of dying, anyway.”

The anxieties, of course, ignored such minor things as whether or not something was actually possible. She wants you gone.

“She wants time to herself. Not the same thing.” There was no reasoning with the buzzing chorus in my head, but I could maybe convince myself that was true if I said it aloud. Still, I’d probably be better off trying to distract myself. Ana had come into her spectivity while in another dimension, and that mingling of magics had mangled the process. Even if she managed to let go of the moment that conceived her new form, it was tainted by mixing with Erishen’s strain on the local worldskein. If I could convince Erishen to help us, though, we could unweave both aspects of Ana’s spective form—

I inhaled. Held it for three beats. Exhaled. Held it for three beats. Obsessing over Ana would admittedly soothe the anxieties, but it wouldn’t be good for me.

Doesn’t matter what’s good for you. It would help her.

“She loves me,” I whispered. “She wants me to be okay. And this isn’t me being okay. It would hurt her if I never gave her space.”

Maybe that’s okay.

I flinched.

Maybe you need to keep an eye on her. For her own good.

“So that’s what this is about.” I think it was almost a relief, realizing that part of me was an overbearing control freak. It fit well into my perception of myself. “You don’t really want to help Ana. You want to know she’s okay.”

What’s the difference?

“I can walk away.” And I did. This was far from my first time having to deal with the thoughts that thrived in the emptiness where Ana should be. If I couldn’t help her, I’d find someone else to aid.

A.N.

This is part of a longer story, check out the rest below if you liked this one!

Table of Contents

#writing #fiction #series #web serial #writers on tumblr #worldbuilding

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hcgossips · 2 months ago

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Faking Love

Gorgeous as a God, hot as hell, sweet as honey, extremely attractive and hypnotic, wealthy and famous, the kind of man that has it all and easily turns you on. Why would a guy like that need to fake his affairs, turning them public, insisting on the narrative when it backfires?

a) Why fake affairs and turn them public?

In Hollywood, it is common to see celebs (actors and singers) staging relationships. And most are even very convincing. It’s a business involving a lot of entities, generating money, usually creating a favorable scenario for celebs to call the Industry’s attention.

But, it’s also a way to deal roles and albums. It’s a “You scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours” deal. These PR stunts exist since Hollywood was born and was created to sell a life style and influence people. They happen to manipulate public opinion, to redirect perception and to control media by feeding it with fake information.

They are also used to promote an image to attract attention, to create performance, to disguise reality and hide a secret, such as a celeb’s sexuality. Or only to disguise solicitation with glamour.

b) Why insist with the narrative when backlashes?

Shame can be a reason. The celeb might feel uncomfortable to have the truth revealed, ‘cause he/she will, then, be seen as a pretender. The contract might include some kind of clause that could pressure a celeb to continue staging. It can also persist when all the involved underestimate people’s intelligence and perception.

it can represent a matter of bad management, judgement errors from the celeb’s team, in which agencies ignore future risks. But, it can simply be a sign the involved lack ethical principles and moral standards. In Cavill’s case, it could be all the above linked to his fragile Ego, which makes him stubborn, and greedy.

What I noticed is he decided to stage it without pretentious intent to prove it, but to tease and prank, expecting followers to see it was a joke so they would leave it behind. This way, the doubt could persist and they could continue promoting the promiscuous (maybe her idea). So, maybe persisting was a way to continue promoting Viscuso while trying to avoid the shame. But, nothing good came out of it for him. And, they weren’t successful in their pathetic damage control.

Fans saw it was fake, but disaproved the unscrupulous strategies used, because the criticism wasn’t on his choice of a woman, but to everything involving it, especially their lack of ethics and morals in dealing with damage control. They made a huge mess, expecting to make fun of it in order to disguise, pretending their client was alive and kicking, when he was miserable for losing credibility and his dignity for this circus.

Who is the dumb ass managing and advising Cavill? This person has done a mistake after the other for four long years, exposing their client in the worst PR plot. Can’t he see that? How much longer is he going to follow this lead?

The dumbest thing Cavill did was to underestimate fans by patronizing them and treating them like idiots, while he twisted public opinion to fit his fake narrative in order to protect the couple’s fake image. Also, trying to minimize the effect Viscuso’s rep, especially her bl*w j*b picture, had as a strategy was stupid. His damage control was totally disrespectful to fans.

#henry cavill #celebs

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hungermakesmonsters · 16 days ago

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(It Is) What It Is

Chapter Twenty-Two

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Some very briefly researched medical stuff/character illness. There will be smutty themes throughout the story. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : 6.2k

A/N : There is a cliffhanger ending, sorry😅 But at least it's Billy PoV?

Master List

Chapter Twenty-Two

He didn’t sleep.

How could he when your every shuddering breath left him feeling like his heart was being shredded in his chest?

Hours passed and he did everything he could to make sure you were comfortable; pressing the cold washcloth to your forehead when you seemed too hot, and covering you with the blanket whenever you shivered.

You stirred a couple of times in the night, staring up at him in the gloom, dazed and confused, but exhaustion quickly claimed you again.

Billy blamed himself for not noticing how tired you’d been, how sickly you’d looked. He never should have brought you here. This was his fault. You needed to be at home resting, instead you were there trying to get him a stupid contract that didn’t even seem to matter anymore.

He should have taken better care of you.

He was supposed to take better care of you.

You woke again a little after dawn, sunlight spilling into the room beneath the curtains and, for a few seconds, you just stared at him. Then you burst into tears.

Panic clawed beneath his ribs - he didn’t know what was wrong or how to make it stop.

“Hey - it’s okay,” he said, desperately brushing his thumb over your cheek, trying to wipe away your tears, “- you’re okay. Don’t cry. I’ve got you.”

“I-I-I’m sorry,” you managed between your sobs.

Hearing you apologise just made him feel worse.

“Don’t be - don’t be sorry. You’ve got nothing to be sorry for,” he told you, not caring about the desperation in tone. “Please, little dove. Don’t cry. I can’t stand seeing you upset...”

The words almost seemed to settle something inside of you because after a few more awkward sobs, you managed to still a little, but he felt so utterly useless when your bloodshot eyes found him again. He knew then with an alarming certainty that he was going to spend the rest of his life making sure you were never this upset again.

“I’m ruining everything,” you said between your sniffles and uncomfortable, shuddering breaths.

“You’re not,” Billy said firmly, still wiping away your tears. “I promise you, you haven’t ruined a thing.”

There was nothing he wouldn’t have done, nothing he wouldn’t have given to fix whatever was wrong with you, whatever was upsetting you. He couldn’t stand it, couldn’t bear to see you in pain. His own chest ached with the weight of it.

“Close your eyes and rest,” he said before you could speak again.

As you tried in vain to fight your exhaustion, he continued to caress your cheek with his thumb and lulled you back to sleep.

When the bell rang downstairs a couple of hours later, he was left with an uncomfortable choice; leave you alone so he could get you something to eat, or stay with you and let you sleep even though you didn’t eat much of your dinner last night. Five minutes later the bell rang again, and Billy slowly moved, slipping out from beneath you.

He didn’t want to leave you, but he couldn’t stand the thought of you going hungry, not when he was going to have to put you in the car for three hours to get you home.

By the time he’d dressed and made himself presentable, everyone was already gathered for breakfast, and the sight of Billy arriving alone quickly drew attention. He didn’t sit, didn’t even move as Catherine got to her feet and approached him.

“Is everything alright? My housekeeper told me you asked for painkillers last night?” Catherine asked, keeping her voice low, allowing him at least a sense of privacy.

“She’s not feeling very well.”

“Is it serious?”

“She -” Billy hesitated for a second, knowing how much you hated other people in your business, “- she has a fever.”

“A fever?” Catherine repeated, showing far more concern for you than Billy had expected. “Does she need a doctor?”

Again, he hesitated, weighing up what you’d want against what you actually needed. “Yes, but she won’t see one until we’re back in New York.”

“Why ever not?”

Catherine’s obvious distress was enough to bring Faye to her side. She asked her mother what was wrong and Catherine quickly explained that you were sick and refusing to see a doctor.

“She’s upset and I don’t want to make it worse,” Billy said, no longer even trying to cover his own concern. “The only way I could get her to agree to see a doctor was to tell her I’d take her back to the city first.”

“Nonsense, she should -”

He interrupted Catherine. “It’s what she wants, and I’m not going to risk making things worse. I’m going to get her to eat something and then get her in the car.”

“Ridiculous. You can fly back to the city with us,” Catherine said.

“John and I can drive back in your car,” Faye offered.

Billy considered for a moment but knew that he had no choice. As much as he hated letting anyone else drive his car, you were more important and he needed to get you to a doctor. A forty minute flight was much better than a three hour drive; he’d be able to have you seen by a doctor before midday.

“Okay,” he agreed. “When are we leaving?”

“We can have the plane ready in ninety minutes,” Catherine said, glancing at Faye who quickly pulled her phone out to make arrangements. “You should get back to her.”

Catherine was right. He’d been gone for five minutes and all he could do was hope that you hadn’t woken up in that time. He moved to the table and quickly started to fill a plate for you.

“You should eat something too, William,” said Catherine, returning to her seat. “You won’t be much good to her if you get sick too.”

He felt his cheeks warm a fraction and nodded. One of the house staff brought out a tray for him, and it wasn’t long before he had two plates, two mugs of coffee, and a glass of fresh juice.

He made his way back upstairs as quickly as he could, mindful not to spill anything despite his hurry.

You were still fast asleep when he returned, but the clatter of the tray on the nightstand was enough to rouse you, and Billy’s hand on your cheek brought you back to wakefulness. You looked up at him with bleary eyes for a few seconds before closing your eyes again and pressing your face into the pillow.

“Little dove,” he said softly, “I know you’re tired but I’m going to need you to sit up and eat something.”

You gave a grumble and that familiar ache in his chest resumed when you tried to curl in on yourself to go back to sleep. As much as he wanted to let you rest, he knew he couldn’t. He gently eased you up and into a sitting position, piling pillows behind you to keep you upright.

Finally, your eyes opened again and fixed on him. Billy managed a smile, despite his own exhaustion and worry.

“We’re leaving in an hour, so I need you to try and eat something,” he said, nodding at the plate, filled with all your favourites. “We’re flying back to the city with Catherine so I can get you to a doctor.”

“You don’t need to fuss... I’m fine...”

Even now, looking like you were on the verge of tears, you were so adamant that you didn’t need anyone looking after you, and it broke his heart. You’d spent so many years with only yourself to rely on, so long caring for your brother and believing that you didn’t need anyone to care for you.

“Let me look after you,” he said as he sat on the bed beside you. “Please, I just - I want to take care of you.”

He heard his voice break as he spoke and felt your hand on his thigh offering a weak but reassuring squeeze.

“Okay,” you said.

He smiled as he handed you the plate he’d filled for you and watched you for a second before grabbing his own. He tried not to stare or make you feel like he was keeping an eye on you, but he couldn’t help but watch you from the corner of his eye to make sure you were eating.

“What about your car?” You asked suddenly, finally seeming awake enough to understand everything that he’d told you.

“John and Faye are going to drive it back to the city.”

“They know I’m sick?”

He hated how uncomfortable you sounded, and he wished there had been some other way to deal with it. But when he looked at you, at your sweat-damp hair and bloodshot eyes, he knew he’d made the right call.

“They’re worried about you,” he said. “I’m worried about you.”

“I... I don’t want you to worry.”

Again, his heart clenched in his chest and that painful ache filled him. How could you expect him not to worry when he cared so much? Or was that the problem - did you not realise how much he cared?

“I always worry about you,” Billy said, trying to keep his tone measured, knowing that this probably wasn’t the time for confessing his feelings to you. “I don’t think I could stop even if I wanted to.”

He gave you a soft smile before passing you your coffee. You didn’t say anything, and the pair of you quietly finished your breakfast together.

After you were finished eating, and Billy had made sure you’d had plenty to drink, he helped you into the bathroom so you could shower. He sat on the closed lid of the toilet, ready to move the moment you looked unsteady on your feet. But, you managed to get clean without incident, and quickly found yourself wrapped up in a towel and deposited on the bed again while Billy packed your bags.

As much as a cold shower had helped lower your temperature, it wasn’t long before you started to look feverish again, and it was almost enough to send Billy into a panic. He tried to convince you to let him call a doctor, but you kept refusing, telling him you needed to get back to New York first. At one point, after a particularly nasty coughing fit, he nearly begged you to change your mind.

“I can’t,” you told him, eyes threatening tears. “Please, Billy, I can’t get stuck here. I don’t want to get stuck this far away from Seb.”

He’d guessed that your brother and your distance from him might have had something to do with it, but from the way your voice trembled, he knew that there was something else, something he was still missing. But he didn’t push. You’d tell him when he needed to know.

“Alright, I’ll take you back to the city, but you’re going to a doctor the moment we land and -” he took an awkward breath, trying to keep the worry from his voice, “- and if they have to keep you overnight to make sure you’re okay, then that’s what’s going to happen, okay?”

You looked at him, and he could already tell you were thinking of an excuse, a way to get out of it.

“Okay?” He asked again, leaving no room for disagreement.

“Okay.”

The second everything was packed and ready to go, Billy quickly disappeared downstairs, taking the luggage with him. Then, he came back for you. He wanted to carry you, but you insisted on walking. Every shaky, off-balance step took a day off his life even though his arm was around your waist holding you steady.

The look on Catherine’s face had him wincing, practically holding his breath as she moved away from the car on the driveway to where the pair of you were just making your way through the door.

She took one look at you and then shot Billy an unsettling look. “You didn’t say she was this bad. She needs a doctor.”

Billy felt you press tighter into his side, your hand gripping his shirt at his waist.

“I just want to go home,” you said. “I’ll go to a doctor in New York. It’s my decision, not Billy’s.”

He wanted to kiss you in that moment because he had no idea what he was supposed to say. Ultimately, and no matter how much he hated it, it was your decision, and Billy was doing his best to give you what you wanted.

“I’m taking her to the hospital as soon as we land,” Billy added, for Catherine’s benefit and for your own. There would be no more discussing it. It was decided.

Catherine continued to fuss around you as you got into the car, but the moment you rested your head on Billy’s shoulder and closed your eyes, she fell silent. It was only a short drive to the small private runway, not long enough for you to sleep, but you kept your eyes closed regardless.

Billy helped you up the steps onto the plane and didn’t dare relax until you were safely in your seat and your head was on his shoulder again. Catherine gave him a sympathetic look as he ran a hand over his tired face and handed him a cold bottle of water before taking her own seat towards the front of the small plane.

You were asleep before take off, and once the jet was in the air, Billy took the opportunity to close his eyes. His head was pounding from the stress of it all and he wasn’t sure that the knot in his stomach was ever going to loosen again.

You were going to be alright. You had to be, because Billy couldn’t handle it if you weren’t.

The longer he was left to think about it - about how happy you made him when you smiled, how complete he felt with you in his arms, and how utterly broken he felt knowing that you were suffering - the harder it was to keep denying his feelings.

He loved you.

He was in love with you.

It wasn’t something that he’d expected or planned for, and just admitting it to himself left him feeling like he was spiraling out of control.

He didn’t know how to love you, how to want you in a way that might make sense to you. All he felt was the desperate, aching longing that wouldn’t stop or go away.

He loved you and he needed you to be okay because the thought of losing you was unbearable and Billy knew he wouldn’t survive it.

You stirred beside him and his eyes immediately opened. The painful feeling in his chest deepened as your eyes struggled to focus and you started to cough, wet, crackling coughs that shook your body. His hand found your back and rubbed in soothing circles, trying to help settle you.

The coughing fit lasted around thirty seconds but, by the time you were done, you were struggling to breath.

Billy tried to hide his panic as he pressed his hand to your cheek, then to your forehead.

“The fever’s getting worse,” he said.

“I’m fine,” you said, sounding so small, so exhausted.

You could barely focus on him, and your hands shook as he offered you the bottle of water. He watched as you drank and felt a brief moment of peace at the relief that washed over you as you swallowed. The cold water must have felt good on your sore throat.

“How are you feeling?” He asked as you handed the bottle back. “Really?”

You let out a soft sigh and decided not to lie. “Tired... I’m so tired, Billy...”

His expression softened and he shifted, lifting the armrest that separated you before patting his thigh. He didn’t even have to ask before you laid down and rested your head on his lap. He could tell that you were fighting against sleep, but the moment he started to gently stroke your hair, you gave in.

Catherine was watching and Billy was almost certain that she could see everything he was struggling with, the love and the worry that was threatening to drown him. He knew that she could see it, and he idly wondered if she’d ever think to tell you - what would you even say to that?

You knew that he wanted you, sure, he’d given that much away, but the rest? You probably didn’t even think that he was capable of love. You’d claim it was infatuation or, worse, you’d say you both needed time apart. And Billy couldn’t do that again. He couldn’t go back to giving you space, to not talking to you, not seeing you.

Fortunately the plane started its descent before he could really think about it, and he fixed his every thought on sitting you up and making sure you were awake enough to disembark.

“My driver is meeting us on the tarmac,” Catherine said once the small plane had come to a complete stand still. “We’ll take you to the hospital.”

He couldn’t tell if she was offering to be helpful or if she wanted to make sure you actually went, but he didn’t argue. He didn’t even ask if you could manage the walk, he just gathered you up in his arms and carried you out to the car. And you clung to him - you held onto him like he was the only stable thing in your life.

Billy kept squeezing your hand as the car made its way through the midday traffic, trying to keep you awake.

Catherine was on her phone, talking to a doctor friend at the hospital, making sure you would be seen immediately. It was something Billy would have done if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with making sure you were alright.

You seemed to settle a little once the New York City skyline came into view, as if seeing it told you that you were close to your brother again. Some of the tension managed to uncoil itself in Billy’s stomach at the sound of your relieved sigh.

“Thank you for bringing me home,” you murmured softly.

Billy pressed a kiss to your forehead and shushed you. He knew then that he’d always do whatever you needed him to do, he’d always do what was best for you, and seeing you in that moment told him that he’d made the right decision.

It took an hour to get there, but thanks to Catherine calling ahead, there was already a nurse waiting for you at the hospital. Billy helped you into a wheelchair and stuck tight by your side. Catherine followed, making sure you were going to be seen by a specific doctor. But there came an awkward pause when you reached the security doors.

“Are you the husband?” The nurse asked Billy.

His heart stuttered, wondering if they were going to try and take you away from him.

Worse still, he saw you panic, flashing him a wide-eyed expression before grabbing Billy’s hand in your own. Billy could tell from the way you were gripping him that you weren’t going to let go.

“He’s my fiance,” you said. “I want him to come with me.”

Catherine let out a reserved but nevertheless shocked exhale but didn’t say anything.

“I’m not leaving you,” Billy told you.

Thankfully the nurse was happy enough to let Billy through with you, and Catherine quickly said her goodbyes, demanding that Billy call her the moment you had been seen.

He stayed close to you as you were wheeled deeper into the hospital, into the elevator and up to the fifth floor. There was a doctor waiting for you but Billy barely caught the woman’s name. He was too focused on you, on the fear that you were trying but failing to keep from your face.

You were scared of hospitals.

You’d never told him that.

He was allowed to stay near you as you were tested, though he had to leave your side a couple of times as you were examined and then x-rayed. Billy had felt sick to his stomach the moment an x-ray was mentioned - x-rays were serious, it meant something was seriously wrong with you. And, as he sat in the hallway, he felt his own lungs start to struggle to draw breath.

Every second he was away from you, he felt like he was suffocating, like the world was ending around him.

When you were finally settled in a room to await the results of your tests, he sat as close as he could, taking your hand in his and holding tight. Somehow, he managed to force a calm smile to his face, even as a nurse stuck an IV into the back of your other hand.

Saline, you were told, to help keep you hydrated. Your hand tightened on Billy’s as the needle went in and, the moment the nurse was gone, he reached for you to brush a tear from your cheek.

“You’re going to be okay,” he promised you, but you offered no response.

He kept hold of your hand, even as you closed your eyes. He could tell you weren’t asleep, but he didn’t say anything. He let you rest.

It took an hour for the doctor to return to you, a hollow smile on her lips that was nowhere near as reassuring as she probably meant for it to be. Your eyes opened immediately, and your hand tensed in his.

“I have your test results,” she said. “Do you want your fiance to stay?”

Your hand clenched Billy’s so tight that he thought you might break his fingers.

“Yes,” you answered without hesitation.

Both of you watched as the doctor moved to the lightbox on the wall, pulling out a couple of x-rays as she went. He put them up and turned the light on, and you sniffled awkwardly.

“The x-ray has confirmed that you have pneumonia,” she said, pointing out the white areas on the x-ray. “Normally we’d give you some antibiotics and send you home to rest, but given the pre-existing scarring on your lungs, I think it would be best if you stayed here for a couple of days so we can monitor your condition.”

Suddenly, it was his turn to squeeze your hand, not understanding what was being said. Scarred lungs? Why hadn’t you told him? What had happened to you?

Any lingering feeling of control he might have had felt like it was slipping away from him.

Pneumonia was serious.

Scarred lungs were serious.

What if he lost you?

(No, no, no... he couldn’t go back to being alone. He couldn’t live without you.)

“Obviously the last thing we want is to cause further damage to your lungs,” the doctor continued. “So far, there’s no indication of fluid in your lungs, but I want to keep a close eye on you to make sure that doesn’t change.”

Billy finally dared to look at you - you were staring at the doctor, but he could tell you weren’t listening. No, you were a million miles away.

“Thank you,” he said, returning his attention to the doctor.

“Ms Van Der Koy informs me that you’ll be staying?”

Never before had he felt the urge to hug Catherine, but if she had been there, Billy would have thrown his arms around her without hesitation.

“That’s right.”

The doctor nodded. “A nurse will be in soon to start you on a course of antibiotics. The call button is there if you need anything.”

When she turned and left, Billy’s attention quickly drifted back to you.

There was a tense moment of silence and then you crumbled.

“I’m sorry, I -” you barely got the words out before the first sob claws its way from your throat, shaking you tired body.

You turned away from him, covering your face with your hands as you started to cry, letting out wheezing sobs that racked your body.

“Little dove,” he breathed softly, so softly that you barely heard him over your crying.

He stood and gently prised your hands away so he could frame your face, turning you to face him and wiping away your tears.

“Please don’t cry,” he said, his own sadness threatening to spill over. “It’s okay. Everything is going to be okay. I’m here and I’m not going to leave you.”

When that didn’t settle you, he leaned down and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Everything is going to be okay, I promise,” he told you softly.

The tears and sobs quickly started to subside, though Billy couldn’t tell if it was because of him or because you were too tired for anything more than a brief outburst. Whatever the reason, you started to settle.

“Don’t leave me,” you murmured.

“Never,” Billy promised, still holding your face and tenderly caressing your cheeks.

He would never leave you, never give up on you. He loved you too much for that. Whatever this was, he would do whatever it took to make sure you got better.

He returned to his seat and took your hand in his again, gently brushing his thumb back and forth over your palm as you fell asleep. Once he was certain you were sleeping, he slipped his phone from his pocket and fired off a couple of quick text messages, first letting Catherine know that you had pneumonia and would be staying in the hospital for a couple of nights, then one to Frank to let him know that neither you nor Billy would be in work for at least a week.

A nurse slipped into the room and dealt with your IV, quietly telling Billy that she was giving you the antibiotics that the doctor had mentioned and explained that it should hopefully start to bring your fever down over the next 48 hours.

Billy sank back in his chair once she left and closed his eyes, all the while keeping hold of your hand. Hours passed and he barely moved - he didn’t want to leave you, couldn't stand the thought of you waking up alone.

You didn’t stir again until you were woken by dinner being brought into your room. The last thing you seemed to want was to wake up and eat, but the nurse that stepped in to check on you was adamant. Honestly, Billy was just glad that he didn’t have to play the bad guy to get you to eat something.

He sat and watched you eat, trying to ignore his own hunger pangs, but he didn’t say anything until you were done and your attention turned to him.

“What?” You asked, and Billy realised that he must have been looking at you a certain way. “What’s wrong?”

He thought about saying nothing, shrugging it off, but he couldn’t.

“You knew, didn’t you?” He asked. “You knew how serious it was.”

As much as he wanted to keep his tone neutral, there was no stopping the tiniest hint of annoyance from slipping out. You looked at him, almost seeming ashamed as you nodded.

“Why?” He asked. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

His words became softer, knowing how fragile you were and how much the conversation might upset you.

You sniffled and brushed your fingers over your eyes.

“I didn’t want to ruin things. We were finally talking again and having fun, and I - I didn’t want to mess things up,” you said with a sigh. “When we were playing on the beach, you looked so happy, then I started to cough and...”

“I was worried about you...”

“Exactly. I didn’t tell you because... because now you’re always going to be worried...”

He was silent for a moment, your words going around and around in his head. He didn’t want to feel angry or out of control, but he did, and it took everything he had to hold it all in.

“You don’t get to decide,” he told you. “You don’t get to decide how I feel or if I worry about you.”

“Billy -”

“No,” he interrupted. “I’m sorry if you don’t want me to worry about you, but it’s not your choice to make. I do worry about you. I think I’ve made that pretty clear. I know it’s not what you’re used to but... but that’s what happens when you get close to someone, when you care about someone.”

You stared at him for a few and he wondered if you could see the depths of his feelings written all over his face, if you could see the unrequited love in his eyes.

“You... care about me?” You asked and his heart threatened to break.

“Of course I do.”

You gave another tired sniffle, and he could tell you were struggling to stay awake. “I thought, I -”

Billy shushed you softly. “We don’t have to talk about this now. You should be resting and focusing on getting better so I can take you home.”

“Home?” You repeated softly, and Billy nodded. “What about you?”

“I said I was going to stay, didn’t I?”

“You need to eat,” you told him as your head dropped back on your pillow.

“Tell you what, as soon as you go back to sleep, I’ll go to the cafeteria and get something to eat,” he said, reaching for you and brushing your hair away from your forehead. “I’ll eat and then come right back so I’m here when you wake up again.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

He lingered after you fell asleep, making sure you were well and truly out before he finally stood. His legs and back ached from being in the same position for so long and he bit back a groan as he headed for door.

In all, he was away from you for a grand total of twenty-five minutes, long enough to go to the cafeteria, eat a very sad looking sandwich, and drink something that was supposedly coffee. Then, he took a quick pit stop in the bathroom before heading back to your room. It felt like it happened in the blink of an eye and, the whole time, all he could think about was getting back to you.

A nurse was just leaving as Billy got back, he told Billy that you were still sleeping, and had slept through having your IV swapped out.

He dropped back into the chair at your bedside and, without realising he was doing it, he closed his eyes.

It was dark when he was ripped from sleep by an awful, choked sound. He fumbled with his phone to find the light switch and quickly realised what was going on; you were having a nightmare.

“Hey,” he said, standing over you, gripping your shoulders to stop you thrashing. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s just a dream, it’s just a -”

He stopped as your eyes opened and you stared up at him, tears welling in your eyes.

“It’s okay,” he said again.

Your eyes wildly searched the room, trying to figure out where you were and, when you did, it only made matters worse. The tears started to fall and you tightly wrapped a hand around Billy’s wrist, holding onto him like you thought he might try to pull away from you.

“I’m here. You’re okay,” he said, trying to pull you out of the panic that gripped you.

“Don’t leave me,” you said, as if some part of you was still trapped in the nightmare. “I don’t want to be on my own.”

You sounded so tired, so scared, and Billy felt his chest tighten. Useless - he felt useless because he didn’t know how to help you, and it was all he wanted to do.

“I won’t. I’m not going anywhere.”

“They wouldn’t let me see him... they left me on my own...” you said between sniffles. “I was so scared.”

Billy wasn’t sure you even knew what you were saying, you still seemed half asleep and feverish.

“When?” He asked softly, trying to understand what had you so upset.

“After the accident... they wouldn’t let me see him... I - I didn’t want to be on my own...”

Accident? There had been an accident? His mind raced over every little thing you’d ever told him about yourself, trying to put the pieces together. You told him that you’d lost your mother when you were young - did that have something to do with it? The him in question had to be your brother. Someone had tried to keep you from your brother.

But he couldn’t pry, couldn’t push, not when you were so upset.

“You’re not on your own now,” he told you. “I won’t leave you, little dove.”

“I don’t want to be here.”

“I know. I know you don’t,” he said, placing his hand on your cheek. “That’s why you need to rest - the sooner you get better, the sooner you can come home with me.”

“I want to go home,” you said, your head falling back onto the pillow as Billy wiped away your tears. “I want to stay with you...”

“You can, little dove,” Billy said, voice cracking, threatening to break. “You can stay with me as long as you want.”

“I never want to leave you...”

Your voice became a soft murmur and Billy did everything he could to pretend that he hadn’t heard it. You didn’t mean it. You were feverish, delirious, and exhausted. You had no idea what you were saying and Billy knew you well enough to know that you would be so embarrassed if you ever realised what you’d said to him.

It didn’t take much to get you back to sleep, but Billy didn’t drift off again until it was almost dawn. Instead, he spent the night worrying over every twitch and awkward breath, watching you through the gloom in case you had another nightmare.

One of the night shift nurses was kind enough to bring him a coffee after coming in to check on you, but you remained blissfully asleep.

And, when Billy did sleep, it felt like his eyes closed for little more than a blink before they opened again.

You were already awake, sitting up and eating breakfast. You gave him a sympathetic smile as he stretched and sat forward, his body protesting having slept in the uncomfortable chair.

“Good morning, sleepyhead,” you said.

Your voice still sounded scratchy and weak, but you seemed a little more alert and less exhausted, and Billy was quickly filled with a sense of relief.

“How are you feeling?” He asked.

You looked at him and, for a split-second, he could tell you were thinking about lying to him and telling him that you were fine.

“The doctor says that the fever has started to go down a little, and I’m still tired but not as bad as I was yesterday.”

Billy’s eyes drifted to your half-eaten breakfast. “How’s your appetite?”

“Better today.”

“Good,” he said with a smile, giving a nod towards your food, indicating that you should carry on eating.

“What about you?” you asked as you reached for a piece of toast.

“I can go to the cafeteria and get something when you’re settled again.”

You fixed him with a look and Billy felt an awkward sensation twisting his guts.

“You look tired,” you said, managing a smile. “And you probably need a shower, and a change of clothes...”

Of course, you were right; he was exhausted and he’d been wearing the same clothes for over 24 hours now. What he didn’t like was what you were implying.

“I said I wasn’t going to leave you here alone,” he said. “I promised you.”

“I know, I just -”

He knew what this was, what you were trying to do; you were trying to take care of him instead of letting him be there for you. It was the last thing Billy wanted. He needed to be with you, he needed to look after you.

“You said you didn’t want to be on your own. You begged me to stay with you,” he said.

You stared at him and Billy couldn’t tell if the look on your face was shame, discomfort, or an awkward mixture of both. Clearly, you didn’t remember exactly what you’d said to him yesterday, but you had a fairly good idea.

“You need to look after yourself, Billy...” you said, sounding too tired to put up much of a fight.

Billy reached for you and placed a hand on your arm.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “Tell me what happened to you, and I’ll go home for a couple of hours.”

He didn’t want to push, didn’t want to pry, but he wanted to know. He wanted to know everything about you, about your past. He wanted to know the things that scared you so he could protect you from them. More than that, he wanted to show you that there was nothing about you or your past that would stop him from caring about you.

The silence that fell lasted at least five seconds, and he could see you considering your options, before;

“Okay...”

A/N : 😅 I know that's a terrible place to end things, but I promise that the next chapter is going to be full of drama and more cuteness. There's now only 4/5 parts of this left which I'm kind of sad about but I promise to give these two an unforgettable ending. Anyway, hope you're all remembering to stay hydrated through this awful summer heat!

As always I love and appreciate every like/comment/reblog and keyboard smash of love. Thanks so much for reading! Hope you all have a great weekend!

If you'd like to be tagged, please let me know! Otherwise new chapters will be posted around 7:30pm GMT on Fridays.

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