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magicshopaholic · 5 months ago

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Dinner at the Kangs’ (Yoongi x OC)

Summary: Yoongi is invited to a dinner he regrets attending, but couldn’t refuse. Every waking moment after that is spent worrying about you.

Pairing: Yoongi x OC

Genre: Suspense, angst, mild fluff (but it’s angsty)

Word count: 9K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, if that

A/N: Literally zero editing has taken place. Set a few weeks after A Lack of Colour.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @dreaming-with-happiness @confessionsofamarshlily @purpleseoul7 @sumzysworld

Listen to: “hold me” by hojean

yoongi masterlist | main masterlist

Tap tap tap.

Yoongi glances briefly at Miso to his side, to see her gazing out of the window. Her side profile seems calm enough, although her arms are crossed tightly across her chest. It’s a moment before he realises the tapping sounds aren’t coming from her.

She looks at him the same time he turns to face the road.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

The question seems incongruously directed; Yoongi frowns slightly and presses his fingers against the steering wheel to stop them from tapping.

“I am,” he says deliberately. “Are you?”

She shrugs in response. It’s a long way from her demeanour earlier today, including the investors’ meeting she hadn’t been invited to but had to attend anyway, including the nepo baby whispers he’s sure she’d heard but couldn’t respond to, and the surprise dinner invitation to him from her father she clearly hadn’t expected but needed to echo while in his presence.

Any friend of Miso’s is welcome in our home.

Kang Jaesung’s lips had curled very slightly around his words but his face had stayed unreadable. A couple of years ago, Yoongi would’ve automatically accepted it to be polite. A year ago, he would’ve found it mildly smug but still would’ve said yes, just to keep an investor happy.

Today, he’d hesitated, his mind immediately trying to work out why he, of all people, had been personally invited to dinner at Miso’s father’s house, while Miso stood right next to him, her eyes going momentarily wide but her face staying still with an effort. Yoongi had met her eyes but she’d looked away instantly, almost as though her father went around inviting a stranger to dinner every day.

Except he wasn’t a stranger, and Kang Jaesung knew that. The lead producer who had forced Miso into this meeting, someone who probably didn’t even know the names of the other assistant producers, had been open about why she was included. He had probably meant well, too, when he’d gushed breathlessly during his presentation, that Kang Miso has been a pillar for this project, working so hard and burning the midnight oil with her co-producer, never knowing how Yoongi’s stomach had jolted at those words and he’d faced forward - only to see Miso’s father staring right at him.

“Is it about the album?”

Yoongi is about to deny it, but he figures he may as well engage - anything but think about what’s to come.

“Er - kind of.”

Miso waits for him to continue. When he doesn’t, she blinks. “Yes, you’ve really painted a picture for me,” she says dryly.

Fighting the urge to sigh, he shakes his head. “The way I’ve written it… it’s perfect. If I may say so myself,” he adds hastily, glancing away from the road momentarily. “That includes a collaboration… with this absolute jackass.”

Miso makes a sound of mild surprise. He pictures her raising her eyebrows in the way she does, which could indicate anything from sympathy to mockery.

“Why’s he a jackass?”

“He said some stuff about us - BTS - back in the day.” Yoongi takes a turn into a wide street, now officially entering the suburbs of Gangnam, home to the rich and famous. Not idol rich. Businessman rich. Chaebol rich.

“What kind of stuff?” Miso prompts him.

“Just… basically implied that some of us were sell-outs for doing the idol thing instead of sticking to hip-hop.” He winces at the memory. “I mean, he apologised publicly for it later, but…” He clicks his tongue.

“You called the guy who dissed you to work on a collab?” She lets out a low whistle. “That doesn’t sound like you, Min Suga.”

He half-chuckles. “It doesn’t?”

“No. Although, I’ve dissed you a bunch of times and it hasn’t kept you from working with me.”

“Not for lack of trying, too.” He hears her snicker at that and his smile widens a bit. “I didn’t call him. He reached out to me - or, his people reached out to mine.” He sighs deeply. “I don’t know.”

Miso is quiet for a moment. “You said he apologised, though.”

“Well, yeah, but -”

“And it’s good for your album?”

“It would be great - he’s an incredible rapper. But -”

“Then what’s the problem? It’s just work.”

Yoongi is about to argue but stops himself, sensing that he isn’t going to make much headway here. Things like baggage, band loyalty, camaraderie - while she understands them on an intellectual level, she seems too detached to actually spot them in reality.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you nervous?”

“About tonight?” Miso hesitates, then shakes her head. “There’s no point thinking about it. You never know what’s going to happen and…” She turns to him, leaning back against her side of the car. “It’s better to just be prepared for anything.”

Yoongi blinks, for this does not help him at all. But there’s a note of resignation in her tone that prevents him from pointing it out and he half-wonders if he himself is overthinking it, or if Miso has just transcended past the mad anxiety into a state of unhinged calm or something.

They don’t speak again until they reach Miso’s house - or, rather, her father’s estate. Like the last time he was here, Yoongi can’t fathom this kind of wealth - the kind that changes people, or the kind that influences things like business and politics beyond what you read in the papers.

He parks the car and they step out together, walking beside each other but with a careful distance between them all the way from the car park to the lawns sprawled in front of the house. It’s dark by now and the perfectly mown grass is damp with dew. Yoongi’s stomach churns unexpectedly; a few more steps and they will be fully visible in the glow of the lights along the garden.

“Miso.”

She takes a couple of more steps before stopping, turning around when she realises he isn’t next to her. “What?”

He stares at her and holds up his hands. “You have to give me something before we go inside. What to expect, what to say - I mean, I have no idea what’s going to happen in there,” he adds, pointing towards the house.

Miso frowns, her arms crossed. “Neither do I. This is quite literally the first time this has ever happened.”

But something in his expression must have told her he’s serious, for a moment later, she sighs and her face softens a bit. She clears her throat and takes a small step towards him.

“Fine. Don’t tell my mother her house looks nice,” she says. “Tell her the decor is better than every celebrity’s house you’ve ever been to.” She waits for a few seconds, presumably to let this digest. “Don’t… compliment me. But also don’t insult me,” she adds, frowning. “And don’t make it seem like we’ve worked together all that much… but also kind of let it be known that I’m probably the most valuable team member you’ve ever had.”

“How -”

“And try to act intimidated by my father,” she continues, “but not in a… like a simpering way, or he’ll lose respect for you.”

Yoongi scoffs. “I’m not trying to earn his respect.”

Miso purses her lips lightly. “Maybe. But trust me - you don’t want to lose it.”

He bites his lip, his head swimming. He wishes he could enter her mind to try and understand what the hell she’s talking about. But he never has and he doubts tonight is when it will change.

“Let’s go back to your earlier suggestion of not thinking about it,” he mutters. Miso pokes her tongue into her cheek, looking almost as though she’s suppressing a smile.

“If I were a cliche, I’d tell you to just be yourself,” she tells him as they resume walking. “But that hasn’t worked out so well for me in the past, so…”

“Worked fine on me. Well, not during the first couple of years of knowing you but, you know. After that.”

Miso snorts again, covering her hand with her mouth. “New rule: do not try to make me laugh in there.”

Inexplicably, Yoongi feels his mouth twist. They are almost at her front door now, only a few steps remaining before them. “I’ll do my best, Kang Chanel.”

“Do not call me Kang Chanel in there,” she hisses, her eyes still betraying mirth. “Min Suga,” she tacks on at the end.

Yoongi wants to joke back but at that moment, she reaches forward to push open the door. Just like the first time he’d seen it, it’s enormous, creaking cleanly on hinges. When they step inside and the door closes behind them, it’s like being enclosed in a dungeon again.

The living room is expansive - but it’s also different. He frowns, trying to recall the last time he’d been here, so long ago. Had it always been green?

“Mother took on an interior decorating project earlier this year,” mutters Miso, almost as if she can hear his thoughts. “She thought cream and green were more regal.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond immediately. Once the initial surprise dies down, the olive green and cream combination is actually not too bad, if a bit unexpected. He remembers Miso’s advice and makes a mental note to mention it to her mother.

“Where is -”

“In here.” Miso walks ahead of him, the distance between them already increasing. Yoongi follows her out of the hall and into the dining area, the entire space as big as the apartment he grew up in. The fireplace is immaculate, with electric flames dancing mildly on the base. The floors are shiny enough for him to see his reflection in, and the decor (black, white and light gold) makes him feel like he’s in a hotel. He exhales and turns to look for Miso, only to face the bar - and the bartender.

“Welcome,” says the man behind the bar. He places four glasses before him - three tumblers and one wine glass - with smooth precision. He doesn’t look up until he’s poured a whiskey into the first two glasses. “Do you drink, Yoongi?”

Yoongi starts; he realises he expected the house to be crawling with staff. A cook here, a butler there, a housekeeper, a gardener, possibly a shoe-shiner - definitely not Kang Jaesung himself standing at the bar, making his own drink.

A sound breaks through this revelation; it’s Miso clearing her throat and Yoongi realises he was asked a question.

“Uh, yes… sir.”

Kang Jaesung nods mildly but doesn’t look up, pouring a third whiskey, followed by a few drops of water in each. Yoongi doesn’t know if he’s imagining the sudden aroma of expensive whiskey. A few ice cubes clink with the bottom of each glass; Miso steps forward to pick one up and her father does the same. Just before taking a sip, he pushes the third glass an inch.

“Drink,” he says, finally meeting Yoongi’s eyes. There’s no please, no hint of a question or an offer, but something about his tone takes Yoongi off guard. It’s not a challenge, or even an order - but he doesn’t know what it is either.

After hesitating for a moment, Yoongi picks up the drink. He takes a sip to discover the smoothest whiskey he has ever tasted, and his stomach twists painfully at the thought of how much this bottle would’ve cost.

“Delicious whiskey, Father,” says Miso, standing by the dining table.

“It’s Scottish,” he replies in answer, now retrieving a bottle of Cabernet from the shelf behind him and pouring it into the remaining wine glass. He finally steps out from behind the bar just as, as if on cue, Miso’s mother appears in a spotless white sleeveless pantsuit.

“For my lady,” he murmurs, reaching her and offering her the wine. They exchange a momentary hint of a smile and clink their glasses together before drinking together.

Yoongi frowns but immediately straightens his face, instead turning to look at Miso and hoping to see his own confusion reflected in her face. But she isn’t looking confused; in fact, she isn’t even looking at him. She’s walking towards the expansive kitchen and scanning the food neatly laid out - trays of sushi, the choicest cuts of lamb, devilled eggs and salmon. It seems like an awful lot for only four people, but before he can dwell on it, he hears his name.

“Yoongi.” It’s Miso’s mother this time. “How lovely to see you again.”

For some reason, my mother’s got it in her head that I’m her competition. Yoongi’s mind immediately goes back to the hotel, to the restaurant opening, to the coat closet. To his horror, he can feel his cheeks heat up and he hopes to the heavens that they aren’t changing colour.

“You, too, Mrs Kang.”

He bows, a little belatedly, but finds she has simply brushed past him and into the dining area. “Your - your house is beautiful. Much more than some of the other houses I’ve been to in Gangnam,” he adds quickly.

Kang Sera says nothing but a moment later she raises an eyebrow in acknowledgement, looking somewhat satisfied. “Thank you. It’s changed a lot since you were last here.”

Yoongi is sure he spots Miso’s eyes widening for a fraction of a second but before he can react, she’s smoothly changed the subject.

“The new drapes are lovely, too, Mother. They are imported, you know?” she says. “From Italy.”

It takes him a moment to realise he’s expected to respond. Meeting her eyes briefly, he nods. “They’re… wonderful.”

There’s a brief silence during which Kang Sera, looking almost bored, takes a seat at one end of the table. Her husband follows suit and sits at the other end after which, finally, Miso pulls out a chair along one of the sides.

“You should offer a seat to our guest first, Miso.” Kang Jaesung speaks, sounding like he’s chiding her for not doing her homework on time. “Yoongi. I apologise for my daughter.”

“Oh, no, that’s - that’s quite alright,” he replies hastily, not quite sure why he’s stuttering. He pulls up a chair as well, directly opposite Miso, who’s pursing her lips with her eyes on her glass.

Kang Jaesung makes a motion and as if out of nowhere, two men appear from somewhere near the kitchen and pick up the trays of food, beginning to silently serve them.

“So, Yoongi. I hear you’ve been working for Big Hit for a few years now.”

It’s not a question. Yoongi isn’t immediately sure how to respond, especially since no one has ever referred to him as “working” for Big Hit before.

“I - yes. Eight years. Eleven, if you count training.”

“Training?” he asks, eyebrows slightly raised, sounding barely interested.

“Yes. All idols need to train before they can debut. Before they can begin releasing music,” he adds, as if to clarify. But then the next second he cringes inwardly, wondering if that comes across as patronising.

“Idol? So… do you dance and sing and all that?” There’s a hint of a smile on his face, teetering between confusion and amusement.

He instinctively bristles, becoming instantly defensive. But Yoongi gets a distinct feeling that the question is meant to unsettle him, and he nods.

“That’s right. Sir. I also work as a producer for the company, though.”

Kang Jaesung observes him for a moment, then raises his eyebrows and nods, sitting back in his chair, spine straight. “That’s quite impressive. Two jobs, two roles. Two ways to make the company dependent on you,” he adds, his smile widening slightly, as though sharing a private joke. “Impressive.”

It occurs to Yoongi only now that as such a big stakeholder of Big Hit, it seems unlikely that he would not know about Yoongi’s participation in the group. But the thought seems benign; instinctively, Yoongi smiles back, albeit a little uncomfortably.

“Do you think it’s impressive, Miso?”

Yoongi’s heart jerks a little, but Miso doesn’t even flinch. “It is,” she answers, before looking at Yoongi briefly. “Congratulations.”

Their kiss in the coat closet might as well have been a figment of Yoongi’s imagination for all the distance she’s displaying right now. He tells himself it’s a part she’s playing (too well, possibly) but for now, he finds himself wishing she would at least meet his eyes for longer than a second.

“I suppose it’s a good thing you and Miso are working together,” he continues, as the last of the food is finally served and the waiters shuffle away just as quietly as they’d appeared. “I didn’t think much of it in the beginning but it might be worth it for the experience. And the role models.”

Yoongi can’t tell if he’s being made fun of. There’s that twinkle in Kang Jaesung’s eye again, like he’s bringing Yoongi in on a joke, but a bigger part of his brain is focused on Miso. Surely - surely - this must be making Kang Miso’s blood boil?

Miso takes a sip of her whiskey and looks at her father, tilting her head slightly. “I told you there was an upside, Father,” she says, almost teasingly.

Kang Jaesung nods and smiles, raising his glass slightly. “I concede to you there.”

From across the table, Miso’s mother chuckles. “You may have done the impossible, Miso. Your father doesn’t admit defeat so easily.”

They all laugh lightly and begin tucking into their plates, while Yoongi watches in horrid fascination. It’s as though he’s watching a play - a terribly written play with rubbish storytelling, with actors simply reading off a script.

As the dinner progresses, the same line of delicate conversation continues. Kang Jaesung asks a question whose answer seems elusive as ever, Yoongi uneasily provides one anyway, he responds with a statement that could be taken in ten different ways, while his wife and daughter interject occasionally.

Try as he might, Yoongi can’t understand Kang Jaesung. Until today, he had pigeonholed the business magnate as a narcissistic, sociopathic capitalist who struck a mysterious fear in Miso. Yoongi hated his very existence on principle - which is why he cannot fathom how he is not only sitting next to Kang Jaesung and eating his food and drinking his booze, but he is actually trying.

It’s hard to admit but somewhere through dinner, Yoongi realises he’s genuinely intimidated by Kang Jaesung. It’s not hostile in nature, but the mild smiles and the sparing, passive aggressive compliments make Yoongi want to correct him - to actively appear better in front of him.

The Kangs continue to put on this charade of a well-natured, riffing family which would be amusing if it weren’t so obviously untrue. He wonders how and why Miso is participating, until it occurs to him that this little production isn’t being put on for his benefit. No, it seems far too rehearsed, almost as if it’s been going on for years.

He also realises a little while later, when there’s a momentary pause after a joke that he’s suddenly sure has broken this facade (but results in a borderline haunting chuckle from Kang Jaesung), that the only reason it seems so fake to him is because he knows it’s fake. Everything Miso has told him, however grudgingly, about her family has been with disdain and resignation and he is suddenly sure he is the first and only person she has ever confided in.

Yoongi tries to meet Miso’s eyes, but it seems hopeless now. She’s acting like he’s just a colleague. Even worse, she’s channelling the Miso he met and resented instantly over a year ago, ignoring the waiters who serve her and seeming more in tune with her horrible wealthy parents than ever.

It isn’t until the dinner is coming to an end, the last course of smoked lamb and caviar (Caviar? On a Wednesday night?) being cleared away that Yoongi gets any indication at all that he isn’t stuck in the most mediocre nightmare he’s ever had.

Miso has just nonchalantly laughed off a rather backhanded comment by her mother regarding her relationship status. Yoongi, for a plethora of reasons, grits his teeth at this but holds his tongue, biting his lip until his phone buzzes in on the seat of the chair next to him. He’s about to ignore it until he sees Miso’s name flash across the screen.

His chest jolts; looking around and deciding that the minor transition movement of the plates being cleared away, Kang Jaesung checking his phone and Kang Sera motioning for another drink, is safe for him to swipe up the screen.

Kang Chanel [20:35] Fix your face, Min Suga.

Yoongi grits his teeth harder - but, he realises a moment later, only to keep from accidentally smiling. His eyes snap up to look at her but she’s finishing her drink, looking rather haughty and bored in her own dining room, as though she can’t wait for this night to be over.

Yoongi can relate. He is supposed to meet Jungkook to record a demo tonight, he remembers suddenly. Eleven pm was what they had agreed upon which seems doable, but also seems too far away.

“So, Yoongi,” says Kang Jaesung, as dessert starts being served. “What do you think of my daughter?”

There’s a moment where no one speaks, and Yoongi simply blinks. “Sir?”

He raises his eyebrows. “As her superior,” he clarifies slowly, “what do you think of her? Do you think she has a future in music?”

For the first time all night, Yoongi deliberately does not look in Miso’s direction. “She does,” he replies honestly. “She has shown a good understanding of the different elements of making music and… well, she’s worked on quite a few collaborations that have gone on to release.”

Kang Jaesung smiles; the same small, mild, perfunctory smile. “That’s good to hear, I suppose. Although, it’s tough,” he muses. “You see, for a man in my position, I have to be… discerning, when I hear about my own family. Miso is my heir and I have to be sure that my life’s work, my fortune… it’s in the right hands. I have no doubt she works hard but she will never truly know the desperation to make it,” he says casually, as though his heir and legacy isn’t sitting five feet away from him. “Not like you and me.”

Yoongi’s stomach twists; he feels nauseous. He doesn’t know if it’s Miso being called her father’s “heir”, or Kang Jaesung’s familiarity in lumping himself and Yoongi together, or the fact that a part deep down inside him, the part that once thought very less of Kang Chanel for the exact same reasons, almost agrees.

He doesn’t want to dwell on how much Kang Jaesung might know of his own struggles; whether he is simply guessing or he’s had a PI tailing him. But it’s dawning on him that accepting this invitation was a huge mistake, on every level. He can’t imagine looking Miso in the eye right now. Does she assume he agrees with her father?

“I suppose one can’t be held responsible for their childhood… sir,” he says finally, feeling both defensive yet drained. “But you can be proud of Miso’s work ethic. She is an asset to - to the team.”

Kang Jaesung nods, then frowns. “I wish I could take your word for it, Yoongi. But you are just one person in the company.”

“Yes, but I have worked with Miso the longest, on multiple songs,” he replies, trying not to sound too argumentative. “It’s been over a year and I can - I can tell you, sir… she has grown a lot. I can vouch for that.”

There’s silence again. Kang Jaesung licks his lips slowly, the hint of a smile still present, observing Yoongi as though he’s just noticed him for the first time. For a moment, Yoongi thinks he’s convinced him, but a movement in his periphery distracts him.

He turns to look at Kang Sera, who’s just placed a hand under her chin with one slender finger over her mouth, a grim sort of satisfaction on her face. Next to her, Miso is finally looking directly at him, her eyes wary.

And Yoongi realises he might have made a terrible mistake.

—

The Kangs’ living room, now that he’s actually in it, is enormous. It’s like a hotel ballroom, like an extremely luxurious prison cell where a billionaire might be forced to stay in solitary for the crime of not wasting money.

A waiter appears at Yoongi’s elbow where he’s by the floor-to-ceiling glass case, holding a silver tray with a small white coffee cup.

“It’s Arabic,” says Miso’s mother, the only person sitting, legs folded elegantly underneath her on the plush white sofa. “Handpicked coffee beans that are dried and shipped in airtight containers to our doorstep. Costs a fortune.”

Shocker. Yoongi takes a sip; it’s good, but not worthy of a soliloquy.

“It’s delicious. I’ve never had anything like it.”

She nods in satisfaction and goes back to her phone, manicured talons swiping up the screen while she sips her coffee.

“Did you drive here, Yoongi?” Kang Jaesung asks, standing at the other end of the glass case, one hand holding a cup and the other in his pocket, observing a plaque displayed inside.

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you find the house alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

“What about the guards outside? Did they give you any trouble?” He tilts his head towards Yoongi, almost jovially. “They are instructed to protect the house from outsiders after all.”

Yoongi grits his teeth again, frustrated. It’s a double-edged sword, one that cannot keep those guards from getting in trouble either way unless he gives Kang Jaesung the exact response he wants.

“They recognised Miso, sir.”

“Oh, yes, of course. You drove her here,” he feigns remembering. “I almost forgot.”

Bullshit.

“How nice of you, Yoongi.” Kang Sera looks up from across the room, her gaze flickering towards Miso by the corner of one of the armchairs, shoulders hunched and silently staring into her coffee. “You and Miso must really go far back for you to offer her a ride. Or you’re just a very good boss.” She titters.

No, you witch. Your husband took the car and the driver, and outright asked me to drive your daughter home - apparently just so he can fuck with us.

Kang Jaesung chuckles in agreement, and Yoongi wants to throw the steaming contents of his cup in the older man’s face.

“You’re a lucky girl, Miso,” her father says, glancing back at her. “But she’s always been lucky. She graduated from a university in New Zealand - a year early,” he adds. “Did you know that, Yoongi?”

“Australia,” mutters Miso, but no one save for Yoongi seems to hear her.

“Come. Take a look.” Kang Jaesung motions to Yoongi to join him and waits until he does. He points to a plaque inside, with the name of a university, followed by Class of 2012 embossed in bronze. On the left side is a space for a photo frame, with a picture of a much younger Miso in a red and white graduation gown, holding a diploma.

“Wow,” murmurs Yoongi, only for a lack of anything else to say.

Her father hums. “Two years after this, she got her business degree from Columbia - Columbia University, that’s in America - but she wanted to move back to Australia straight after.” He shakes his head. “I tried to talk her out of it but she’s really quite stubborn that way.”

Something about this anecdote just does not sound correct at all, but Yoongi knows it’s not his place to ask - not here, anyway. He makes a mental note to bring it up with Miso later, but for now, he just wants this dinner to end.

“I’m sure we have the plaque for that, too - Miso, come here and help me look.”

For a moment, it looks as though Miso might decline but then she walks over, moving straight past Yoongi who takes this opportunity to step away from Kang Jaesung’s immediate radius so he’s standing a few feet away from both father and daughter who are by the glass case.

“Over there,” she mutters, pointing to right behind the first plaque.

“Oh, of course. It’s getting blocked by this.” He opens the case and shifts a framed magazine cover with his own face on it - looking blazing and stony and worldly all at once - and brings Miso’s Columbia plaque forward.

“There we go. That’s better, isn’t it?”

Miso sips her coffee noncommittally but doesn’t answer. Yoongi gets the feeling she was expected to, however, and finds himself responding.

“Congratulations on the Time cover. Sir.”

“Thank you. I suppose achievement is genetic as well.” He smiles and looks from his daughter to his wife - the latter of whom has now put down her phone. Any remnant of phone humour has left her face as she stares at her husband, who’s looked away by now.

“They are both quite impressive, Yoongi,” she says after a moment. “In fact, I’m surprised you didn’t see it the last time you were here.”

It’s the second time she’s brought up his last visit to this house, during a time when the only feelings Yoongi could muster towards Miso were resentment, annoyance and some amount of pity. There’s no avoiding it this time, though; Kang Jaesung picks up on it immediately.

“What’s that?” He frowns, his tone sharper than it has been all evening. His eyes snap up to Yoongi. “I didn’t realise you’d been here before.”

He’s telling the truth, Yoongi realises. All evening, Kang Jaesung has been one, maybe several steps ahead of them. This time, though, he’s been caught off guard.

“Of course he has. It was at the family gathering last summer. Don’t you remember, darling? Miso brought Yoongi as her date - I was so excited until Miso told me they were simply colleagues.” She titters again, but there’s no humour there whatsoever.

Yoongi can’t accurately judge the severity of the situation, but even though she’s a few feet away, he can’t almost feel Miso stiffen.

“I see,” says Kang Jaesung, softly. “How amusing.”

“He wasn’t a date, Father,” says Miso, eyes flickering upwards but not meeting her fathers’. “I invited him as a guest, because he was my boss at the time. You had met him, too, in the studio.”

“Is that right? Well, now. It might be my mistake,” he says suddenly. “I wasn’t made aware that I was… setting something else in motion.” His lips curl around the words. “I suppose girls never grow out of keeping things from their fathers.”

There’s the same pretence of good-natured family humour, but Yoongi is not fooled this time. It’s the most tense, uncomfortable situation he can remember being in. He looks up to see Kang Jaesung watching his daughter, while Miso’s fingers tighten around her cup.

Maybe it’s completely innocuous, but something about the motion makes Yoongi’s gaze move to her hands and an image flashes in his mind, of a bluish purple mark on her wrist.

It all happens in an instant. Kang Jaesung raises his hand very slightly - he may have simply been reaching for his phone for all Yoongi knows - to his right, Miso inhales shakily, and Yoongi instinctively steps in between them. At the last second he places his empty coffee cup on the table under the glass case, attempting to be nonchalant.

But the damage is done. Kang Jaesung’s gaze bores into Yoongi, a few seconds which feel like they last several hours, until finally he takes a step back.

“I think we might call it a night here,” he suggests, taking a sip of his coffee and placing his cup right next to Yoongi’s. He picks up his phone and moves away, as though already having forgotten. “Yoongi… forgive me. I’m a busy man.”

Yoongi nods jerkily. “Of course. Thank you for the invite. The dinner was wonderful. Thank you, Mrs Kang,” he adds after a moment. He moves to leave, careful not to acknowledge Miso at all. Just as he’s almost out of the living room, his heart uncomfortably and irregularly beating, Kang Jaesung speaks again.

“Miso, please escort our guest to his car.”

“Of course.”

There’s no time for Yoongi to react. Miso walks towards him and motions for him to continue, and they exit the house together, down the stairs and across the lawn in complete silence. Yoongi is too on edge to speak, not even sure where to begin. But the mansion looms behind him, opulent and intimidating and it isn’t until they cross beyond the lights bordering the lawn and reach his car in the dark parking lot that Yoongi is finally confident enough to openly face her.

“Miso,” he says, and he is shocked to hear the worry in his voice. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what just happened but I - I swear I didn’t mean to say -”

He’s cut off almost instantly, however. Her face is shrouded in the dark of the night underneath a moonless sky, but he can still see the smile flicker across her face before she reaches forward and kisses him.

It takes Yoongi a few bewildered seconds to respond but by the time he can register it, it’s already over.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. She doesn’t look or sound happy, but the smile is still there, almost resigned. She looks like she wants to say more but gives up quickly. On some level, Yoongi is glad. He doesn’t know if either of them wants it out there, in the universe: the implications of his instincts, the reason for their being. But they can’t deny that it happened and that for a moment, someone stood between her and her father.

“I’ll see you around, Yoongi,” she says. Before he can say anything, she turns around and walks back to her house.

—

Miso doesn’t come into work the next day. Yoongi does an all-nighter at the studio, but even when he returns in the late afternoon, after a nap and scarfing down some instant ramen, she still isn’t there. He waits, fidgeting throughout the day, but she never comes. She doesn’t come the next day either, or the day after that.

Yoongi doesn’t know what to feel. Paranoid is a safe word, especially because it implies a fear of nothing in specific, which is exactly what it seems like right now. He calls her, half-heartedly, only to get her voicemail. Disappointed but not quite surprised, he asks Donghyuk.

“She called in sick a couple of days ago,” he supplies, which sounds like bullshit to Yoongi but is none of Donghyuk’s business.

Finally, after four days during which Yoongi tries hard to suppress his helplessness so he can work, Miso returns.

Yoongi is in his studio, working with a young solo artist on a track for her second studio album. They are debating a lyric in the second verse, stuck on the inflection of a particular word, when the door to his studio opens.

“Yoongi,” says Miso, in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. “Donghyuk is asking if you will be available any time today to prep for the marketing meeting tomorrow.”

It’s a full ten seconds before Yoongi is able to answer. It isn’t until she raises her eyebrows and gives him a look that he snaps out of it.

“I - yes. I will be. Uh… when?”

“I don’t know. He’s not here right now, but I can ask him when he gets back.” With that, she nods and retreats, the door swinging shut behind her.

Yoongi stays still, glued to his seat, and takes a deep breath. “Where were we?” he asks the artist next to him, barely noticing when she points out the line they were discussing. He nods and they stay on the topic, tone neutral, while Yoongi counts to a hundred and twenty in his head.

“You know what? Just give me a minute,” he says apologetically, already standing up. “I forgot something - but keep at it. I think we’re finally getting somewhere.” He gives her an encouraging thumbs up before calmly walking out of his studio. The moment the door closes behind him, he rushes to Donghyuk’s studio.

Without knocking, he throws open the door to see Miso standing at the opposite end of the studio, leaning back against the wall and typing something into her phone. She looks up the moment he enters and a smile starts to form on her face.

Yoongi exhales and strides in, and they meet halfway in a hug.

“Fucking hell, Kang Miso,” he murmurs, realising at this very moment that not only had he been worried this whole time, but he’d also missed her. “Could’ve dropped me a text or something, you know?”

She chuckles dryly, and her arms tighten around his neck for a moment before she relaxes and steps away. She looks the same as always, but a bit more subdued somehow. He can’t put his finger on it exactly; it’s something in the eyes-face-hair area but the smile she cracks is the same as always.

“Nothing nearly interesting enough to text you about,” she replies, shrugging. “I’m sure me being gone was a net positive - you probably got a lot more work done without me snarking about it.”

“Shut up, that’s not funny,” he mutters, but feels his lips twitch anyway. “Jesus, Miso, where… I mean, how…” He trails away, suddenly with no idea what to ask. A sudden memory flashes through his mind and he grabs her hand, pushing her sleeve up to reveal her pale, slender wrist.

Yoongi blinks at it for a few seconds before slowly meeting her eyes, part relieved and part embarrassed. Miso’s head is tilted slightly, as though she knows where his mind is. He’s saved from trying to speak when the studio door opens and it’s Hyeongseo, the artist he’s been working with all day.

“Hey - oh, sorry,” she says vaguely. Yoongi realises he’s still holding Miso’s hand and drops it immediately, turning away from her. “It’s just… I need to head out for a shoot soon, so…”

“Of course.” He nods and follows Hyeongseo out of the studio but stops just short of the exit to look at Miso. “We’ll, uh…”

She crosses her arms across her chest and nods. “Yeah.”

“Okay.” There’s a moment of awkward silence during which Yoongi’s feet won’t move. “Don’t leave,” he blurts out, managing to add a warning tone to it at the end to cover up the mortification.

Thankfully she chuckles and waves him away. “Go do some work, Min Suga.”

And Yoongi does just that. For the next hour, he pores over the rest of the song with Hyeongseo and even manages to record a rough demo for their next meeting. His mind is catching the most minute beats and sounds and pronunciations with ease and by the time they listen to the final version of the demo, he’s surprised even himself.

He doesn’t go back to Donghyuk’s studio, though, even after Hyeongseo leaves. He spends a while longer on other work, returns some emails, goes on a smoke break - anything to not be the one to try and accost Miso again, especially after that overeager Don’t leave!

At some point during the night, she drops him a text.

Kang Chanel [21:50] Donghyuk has managed to pick the absolute worst pizza place in the damn city.

It takes Yoongi a few minutes to decode the message, after which he simply decides she wants him to come over on the pretext of helping finish some sub-standard pizza. He turns out to be correct on all accounts and while he’s initially mildly disappointed to see Donghyuk there as well, it ends up being for the best, for it’s the first time since he’s ever known Miso that they have both hung out as friends, with friends, eating pizza and joking around without any sort of awkwardness or discomfort.

Despite Donghyuk’s reputation for crassness and abrasive attitude, he and Miso genuinely seem to be friends. Yoongi is uncertain how much he knows or what he thinks he’s deduced; it becomes somewhat clear when Donghyuk finally decides to head out for the night and tells them very cryptically to not to do anything he wouldn’t do. It elicits a chuckle from Miso, and Yoongi finds himself grateful on two counts as the other producer bids them goodbye.

“The pizza wasn’t nearly as bad as you made it out to be,” says Yoongi after a moment, when it’s just the two of them. They’re on a revolving chair each, about five feet away from each other.

“Clearly, since you polished off four slices,” she points out, stretching her arms and gathering her hair into a ponytail. She hitches one of her legs up on the chair, the soles of her Converse shoes slightly muddy, and sighs tiredly.

Yoongi glances down at his hands. They’re finally alone but it hits him that despite a lot of worrying, he’s had no way of preparing for this moment.

“So what have I missed?” Miso asks, as though she’s been on vacation. “Aside from that weird new security scanner they have on the floor.”

He doesn’t look up. “A sasaeng managed to break into the building. Twelve hours later, it was there.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Really? Wow, some people have a lot of time on their hands. Who was she here for? Wait - is it offensive to assume it was a girl?”

“Miso,” he says.

“Hm?”

Yoongi meets her eyes. “Where the hell have you been?” he asks softly.

“Home,” she answers, without missing a beat.

“Home?”

“Home,” she confirms. “You were there a few days ago.”

He ignores the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I remember your house,” he mutters. “So you were just… in your house, the last four days?” When she shrugs, he blinks. “Why?”

“I mean…” Miso shifts in her chair and sighs, as though the answer should be obvious. “As you could probably tell, that dinner did not go all that well. My father said he needed to decide if he could - quote unquote - trust me.” She rolls her eyes and clicks her tongue nonchalantly. “So I couldn’t go to work until he was sure.” She shrugs again.

The questions in Yoongi’s mind are endless. “So… what? He trusts you now?”

“Apparently.”

“Like, he gave you permission to come to work today?”

“I guess you could call it that.”

Yoongi sighs deeply. “Miso, come on. I’ve been worried sick about you - I thought I got you in trouble. You’ve got to give me something more here.”

For a moment, she looks like she’s about to argue, but then her eyes soften slightly. “Yoongi, there’s really nothing more to tell. I’m serious - I know what you’re thinking,” she adds when he opens his mouth to retort. “Okay? The sleeve thing was pretty obvious. But I promise you, I was mostly just in my room, getting bored, getting my meals delivered to my doorstep, and trying to read War and Peace.”

“What -”

“It’s a book.”

He stares, feeling a very familiar annoyance surfacing. “I was going to ask, What about your phone?” he clarifies slowly. “Or could you not just drop me a text to let me know you were okay?”

For the first time, Miso hesitates. “My phone… may have been taken away. It was brought to me this morning along with my breakfast, which is how I figured I was good to come in today.”

It occurs to Yoongi that he isn’t about to get any further details about her disappearance. From where he’s standing, it sounds as though she was locked in her room for four days with no means of communication until her villain of a father deemed it okay for her to be released. But Miso’s tone seems extremely incongruous to the situation, sounding almost unbothered, and it’s frustrating on multiple levels.

“You know…” He begins, then stops. This could backfire. “I hope you know that you can trust me,” he tries again. “You can tell me if… well, anything.” He waits.

She observes him for a moment. “Okay, I’ll say it,” she states abruptly. “No, I wasn’t hurt. My father doesn’t really have a taste for violence.”

Yoongi scoffs without meaning to; despite having no evidence to the contrary, he finds that hard to believe.

“I’m not saying he’s not capable of it,” she amends, “but it’s not his style.”

“Yeah? What is his style?”

“This,” she answers, surprising him. “Power. And control. Something that night made him feel like he wasn’t fully in control of the situation,” she says, and her pause indicates to Yoongi that they both know what that probably was. “So this was his way of making sure I know who’s really in charge. He’s done it before,” she adds, almost as an afterthought.

What the fuck? “So…” Yoongi struggles to form a coherent sentence for a few seconds. “So what changed? What did he do in those four days that changed everything?”

“I don’t know!” Miso exclaims, half-chuckling. “Who the hell knows what goes in my father’s head? It’s pointless to try and figure it out after a point. But you shook him in a way that I haven’t seen in a while,” she admits after a moment.

He can’t deduce if this is meant to be a compliment. “I really thought I got you in trouble,” he murmurs. “I tried to keep my distance but I think I might have…” He trails off.

“Yoongi.” She shifts in her chair so she’s facing him completely. “This wasn’t your fault,” she tells him, as though it just occurred to her that this might be a possibility to him.

“But you told me, even back at that restaurant opening, that your mother would get all crazy and even before the dinner, you said -”

“Yeah, but that’s not what happened here,” she interrupts him. “Yoongi, my father knows I’ve had relationships with men. I mean, I’m almost thirty - it’s not that shocking. That is not why I asked you to keep your distance. I mean, it is, but…” She shakes her head. “Not in the way that you think.”

Yoongi runs his hand down his face. He can’t imagine growing up like this, living, constantly, in a cold war with your parents.

“Look, somehow, all the guys I’ve ever been with - and there haven’t been that many of them - have always been related to my father in a way. They were either in the same social circle or their fathers worked for my father, or they worked for my father.”

“I don’t work for your father,” he says immediately.

She frowns. “Don’t you?”

The minute detail of Kang Jaesung being a Hybe stakeholder had slipped Yoongi’s mind, and the fact suddenly makes him want to vomit.

“The only guy that had nothing to do with my father was this guy I was seeing when I lived in Australia,” she continues. “The moment they got wind of the fact that it was getting slightly serious, I was made to return to Seoul.”

Yoongi doesn’t respond. Perhaps Miso realises why, for her tone is suddenly gentler.

“But you may be the first one of them to ever make him feel threatened. And I’m not just talking about the thing at the end,” she clarifies, a hint of a smile on her lips.

It takes him a moment, but he returns it. Her kiss had lingered for hours after the fact - days, even - and Yoongi had remembered it with guilt and longing in equal measure. He wishes this were easier.

“Why don’t you leave, Miso?” he asks, noting how she stiffens. “Haven’t you even thought about it?”

It’s clear from the way she turns away from him ever so slightly that this isn’t where she expected the conversation to go.

“It’s not that easy,” she says flatly.

“Not at first, sure. But you’re twenty-nine - I mean, it’s pretty common to move out by this age,” he points out. “I’m sure you have savings. You can get an apartment - or I can help you out. But… why are you still here?”

She presses her tongue into her cheek. “It’s complicated.”

He’s about to argue, when something else stirs in his memory of that dinner. “By the way… can I ask you something?” He takes her begrudging raise of the eyebrows as a yes. “What did your father mean when he said… that you’re his heir?”

She’s silent for so long that he thinks she may not answer at all. “He meant exactly what you think he meant,” she says eventually.

“So you’re going to inherit… what? His whole company?”

“I’m a chaebol. You know what that means, right?”

He does, it’s true. Not only does he know it in theory, he knows she is one. He’s called her that, multiple times; in the early days of their tense dynamic, it felt harsher than nepo baby.

“What did you do about your collab?” she asks before he can continue on his train of thought.

“Oh -” Yoongi pauses. “Um - nothing. Yet. Still debating what to do next.”

“Still? Either this artist is epic or you’re just overthinking this, Min Suga.”

“Genius Dragon is unfortunately that good, but I’m not overthinking for no good reason. It’s -”

“Hold on - his name is Genius Dragon?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a mouthful.”

“Not to mention original.” She rolls her eyes and winces. “God, I remember this guy. I think I attended a workshop he took a million years ago.”

“Yeah?” This is surprising. “What did you think of him?”

“Kind of full of himself,” she mutters. From this, Yoongi gathers that she agrees with his assessment about the rapper’s talent. “But if he’s that good… come on, don’t tell me this is still about something he said to you a decade ago.”

“It’s not about me,” he retorts, a little defensively. “This album is personal, and this particular song is even more so. Aside from the fact that he’s from Daegu also… he struggled, too. He gets it - and I think that’s why he was harder on Namjoon and the rest of the group, because he thought they made me soft. That’s also why he’s the best choice for this song, though,” he mutters, dropping his head against the back of the chair.

“Isn’t Namjoon an artist, too? Won’t he understand that?” she points out.

“He -” Yoongi sighs. “He might. He’ll never stop me from doing this, if that’s what I want. None of them will.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

It should be obvious, but Yoongi can’t bring himself to say anything other than, “It’s complicated.”

There’s a pause during which he looks up and sees her still looking away, but the corner of her mouth lifted slightly, almost in satisfaction. Her words from a little while ago ring, and he concludes that she’s still miffed with his persistence.

“Hey.” Yoongi reaches forward towards her; hooking his hand under the seat of her chair, he pulls it towards him. It works; despite the fact that she turns to look at him like it’s a massive effort, there’s a softness that’s returned. The arms of their chairs are touching, and they’re closer than they’ve been all night.

“I shouldn’t have pried,” he admits. Miso nods before leaning forward and kissing him.

It’s the first time they’ve kissed without either of them being taken by surprise, or in secret with the fear of being found out. Yoongi hasn’t cut his hair since the last leg of his tour; a pleasant shiver runs down his spine when her fingers brush against the ends at the nape of his neck.

The last thing he wants is to rush this. In the absence of anything else in their way, the kiss is slow and exploratory, with an air of relief that Yoongi knows is not one-sided. He squeezes her knee and she gets up off her chair; without breaking the kiss, slides onto his lap, straddling him with a comfortable weight.

Yoongi wraps an arm around her waist, holding her face to his as gently as he can as her shoulder-length locks brush against his cheek. She sighs into his mouth and his heart skips a beat, but he doesn’t pull away. He can’t imagine it. She smells of something that vaguely reminds him of jasmine but still feels expensive, and he pulls her even closer.

“Min Suga,” she murmurs against his lips, “is that your phone in your front pocket?”

Yoongi freezes, realising a second later that his phone is indeed vibrating in his front pocket. “Among other things,” he mutters, regretfully pulling away slightly and fishing it out of his pocket. His heart sinks when he sees Bang PD’s name flashing on the screen.

“You need to take that,” she tells him, reading the screen upside-down. She moves her torso back and shakes her hair out of her face and off her neck. “And I… I need to get home.”

His phone is still ringing. “Do you want me to drop you home?” he asks as she climbs off his lap.

She gives him a small smile. “Thanks. But Seungkwan is here, so he can…” She doesn’t finish her sentence.

Fifth ring. Yoongi closes his eyes - he needs to take this call. He stands up and reaches the door, hesitating before opening it. There’s a lot that needs to be said and done, but nothing comes to mind. A moment later, Yoongi realises only one of them really matters.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks, his hand on the door handle.

“Yes, you will,” she confirms, already starting to pack up the electronics. Her nonchalance is betrayed by the small smile widening a bit. “Now take that damn call, Min Suga.”

He chuckles and nods. “See you tomorrow, Kang Miso,” he says, before stepping out of the studio and answering his phone.

—

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#yoongi x oc #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #bts suga fanfic #bts suga angst

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sseomtada · 10 months ago

Text

being [ruben dias]

you receive a visitor while working late & make a pivotal decision.

warnings: 18+... | wc: 5093 | 4/8

“Did you get the package I sent?”

You’d finally made time to have an extended FaceTime call with your mom who was more than happy to give you an earful of her recent doings. The ramblings that once served as an annoyance now provided a strange comfort. Perhaps it was because it reminded you of the time when your biggest worry was whether or not you’d ace your next test.

“Yes,” She laughed. “The English are terrible with food, but they got tea making right.”

That made you join in with her. The traditional food here did leave much to be desired, but thankfully, a wonderful immigrant population has made their culinary world highly diverse and tasty.

Earlier, your mom sent you a picture of her posing next to the Nike ad your company had helped brand. She said she could tell by one look at it, without even knowing you were a part of it, that it had come from your mind. In that moment, her eyes were a bit shiny.

You felt your heart soften. There were rarely times where she visibly showed how proud of you she was, her words were always at the forefront. Your own eyes teared up as you looked up and blinked.

What did you think of it?

Just how proud of you I am.

Collaborating with big brands and names, celebrating your successes in rooms with insurmountable net worths - it was all great. None of it came close to providing the same amount of validation as hearing those words come from her. One of the biggest driving forces behind you not giving up and chasing this crazy dream was her. You couldn’t put into words how relieved you were when you felt that her sacrifices for you had paid off.

“I’ve got to start getting ready for work, but I promise I’ll talk to you soon.” You looked at the time with a sigh.

“Tell Aki I said hello!” She waved. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” You returned the gesture.

Though things were going well with Bana’s latest projects, you’d been dragging your feet when heading into the office for the past few days. There was something like a weight on your chest akin to the feeling of when guilt gnawed at your insides.

That conversation you had with Ruben played in your mind over and over whenever it wasn’t otherwise occupied. You didn’t tell Aki how you’d gotten back to your place, or the exchange that occurred. There wasn’t any particular reason behind your withholding, you just needed time to process it.

A definitive answer still had yet to come to your latest question, what would you do now? Was there even anything to do at all, anything that could be done? The truth behind the breakup was just…sad. More than anger or pain, you just felt disconsolation.

It seemed as if you and him had both bitten off more than you could chew. You were overly enamored with him and placed him on a pedestal that he wasn’t ready for and didn’t want to be on.

The way things ended would never be excusable, but you now had a sense of understanding that made it more digestible. You were able to start working on that wound and healing it to the point of a mild ache instead of the agony it once generated.

“Do I get a gold star for beating you in today?” Aki gloated at the door.

You faked a laugh. “I’ll think about it. Mom says hi, by the way.”

She got all giddy at that and started reminiscing about your mother’s cooking. Before she could make your stomach start speaking in tongues, you told her to grab Cindy for your morning meeting in the conference room.

The project with Erling was going well so far. After your first conversation with him and his assistant, they sent over some of the ideas they were leaning more towards as well as additional points they’d like to meet.

“I’ve been playing with these fonts and color schemes for the logo and typography.” Cindy presented on the large screen.

“Awesome,” You nodded. “I’d send those over to him so you can get that finalized by the end of the week.”

“Sponsor option one is willing to pay a pretty penny, but they do want exclusivity for a period of time. The second is coming in lower with the benefit of more contractual freedom and a door open for bonuses if key revenue markers are met.” Aki gave her update.

They were both good proposals to consider, so you gave her the same directive as Cindy.

When it came to your specific workload, there was still plenty to do. You showed them the outline of what you’d done so far and received feedback on features that could be useful as you continued to build.

Website design was one of the more headache inducing parts of marketing, one that would usually be handled by a design team. You didn’t have the cashflow just yet to hire or outsource someone to do this aspect.

That left you tapping into the Python and CSS skills you developed in your IT minor to get the job done. Thankfully, technology had come a long way to make website building much easier than doing it from absolute scratch.

There were a few tweaks you had to make to the work you’d already done and more features you wanted to complete before clocking out for the day. Given the busy and focus intensive nature of the tasks at hand, your girls left you to it. They let you know when they were headed out through the company’s Slack.

You weren’t sure if your blue light frames were doing anything, or if your eyes were just exhausted from staring at the monitors for hours on end. A quick eye drop and coffee break was all you could trust yourself to do.

Any longer than that and you would be convincing yourself to shut down your computer. It would only make you feel like shit once you got home and showered though, considering you were already down to the last two bullet points on your to-do list.

You sat back down at your desk, took a deep breath and got back into it. Add a few more lines of code in the backend software, run it to test to ensure there were no glitches, and repeat the process. One more bullet point was left to go when your phone pinged.

Is this still your number?

Ruben’s name sat above the message. You slid your glasses up to your hair and picked up the device, contemplating if you should reply or not. It was kind of funny that he texted you that considering that he hadn’t changed his own either - hence the contact still popping up with his name.

Depends on who this is.

You couldn’t help pulling his leg a little. Knowing him, he would obviously gather that this was still, in fact, your number and you were taking a crack at him. Three dots appeared shortly after your reply.

That’s fair.

Are you busy?

Your bottom lip pinned between your teeth, brows meeting. It was pretty late on a weekday, a time when most would be winding down to go to bed if not already sound asleep. Unfortunately for him, perhaps, your answer wouldn’t be what he wanted to hear.

I’m still at work, so…yes.

Those little dots appeared again, his acknowledgment floating up without hesitation.

Okay, I’ll leave you to it.

That was a conversation ender if there ever was one. You placed your phone back to the desk, face down, and slid your glasses back on. Tackling the last bullet point suddenly became even more of an uphill climb than it already was with that fresh dialog banging pots and pans in your head.

It was mentally difficult to disengage from the conversation. You started to wonder what Ruben wanted. Why did he decide to message you tonight at this hour, days after the last time you spoke? What would he have said if you did tell him that you were free?

With a groan, you spun around in your chair until you grew dizzy. After the stars cleared from your eyes and the pit in your stomach settled, you grounded yourself enough to get back on track. All that pondering could wait until you were tucked under your duvet.

You returned to user interfacing , trying to approach the website so far from the visiting fans and prospective client views. Everything was in top shape so far, making you throw your hands up in the air gratefully. Just after you saved and tripled checked that you’d done so, the office’s door buzzer went off.

If Cindy or Aki had come back to check on your wellbeing, they would’ve just entered the code. Deliveries weren’t made after a certain hour either. You pulled up the security camera feed out front on your monitor to see whether or not you’d have to call the cops.

The sight it brought disarmed you, but didn’t entirely provide relief. Ruben peered around and when he spotted the lens, he waved. He held up the bags in each of his hands, clearly full of take out. Responding to that before you could was your belly, an embarrassing gurgle echoing through your office.

“I could’ve been gone by now. Or lying.” You raised a brow after opening the door.

“Yet here you are.” Ruben shrugged.

A tense period passed of you two looking at each other. He was wondering whether or not you would let him in and you were tossing the same question around in your head. Eventually, you stepped aside.

“Ten pounds says you haven’t eaten anything since lunch.” Ruben set the bags down on the coffee table. “No, breakfast.”

It was exasperating how he had the tendency to be absolutely on the money. You regrettably haven’t grow out of a habit he knew all too well about, which was neglecting your meals in an effort to get your tasks completed.

“Hm. What’s on the menu?” You grunted and sank to the guest sofa.

“Lo mein…butter chicken…” Ruben pulled the containers from their respective bags. “Kebabs. I wasn’t sure what you’d want most.”

And so his irritating ability continued. Even though both assumptions were made on the basis of the past and were somewhat of a shot in the dark for your present self, they both held true. Your taste in cravings still stood the test of time.

“Why are you here, really*?*” You couldn’t pretend like this was normal.

There was something bigger than an elephant in the room. It carried the immeasurable weight of everything that had transpired from the moment you weakly kicked his football back to him, to your first kiss and dance, and every juncture leading up to the only time he’d made you cry tears of sorrow.

The uncertainty of what was to become of you and him carried the bulk of that heaviness.

“The easiest way I can answer that is by asking you a question.” Ruben paused, lowering the napkins. “Would you prefer it if we live in the same city, run in the same circles, and basically act like we’re strangers or would you rather do…this?”

A frustrated puff of air left your nose.

“That’s just it.” You ran your hands down your face. “What is this?”

“I don’t know. All I know is that I can’t do the alternative.” He sat beside you. “I can’t act like we’re two people on a morning commute who happen to make eye contact and stutter through small talk to ease the awkwardness. Can you?”

There it was. That **was the solution to the problem that had been harping on you since that last conversation. You couldn’t figure out what it was you wanted to do, what you could do now, because you hadn’t even considered the other perspective - what did you not want?

It was exactly as he said. You didn’t want to carry around your history and act like it never happened. That made hearing his name, or even thinking about the slightest chance that you would run into him feel suffocating.

You wanted to breathe. Though it was obvious that neither of you knew exactly how to go about that yet, Ruben had at least taken the first step. All things considered, an olive branch extended in the form of your favorite foods wasn’t the worst place to start.

Your response came in the form of motioning towards the butter chicken.

“I should’ve bet on that too.” Ruben shook his head with a small smile.

The train had left the station, but there was no destination in sight. Yes, it was agreed that acting like you didn’t once mean a significant amount to one another wasn’t the best way to go about things. That still left a gaping sense of what now, which rang louder than the silence as you dug into your meal of choice.

You decided to take the next step this time. It was a painfully ordinary way to break the ice, yet one that could lead to other paths. Or it could have you opening doors you would rather not see behind.

Seven years seemed like a lifetime. There was evidently a story surrounding how he went from playing locally to now being part of such a big foreign team, so you started there by asking him about it. Ruben visibly relaxed more as he shared his trajectory.

It was bittersweet to hear all that you missed. The big matches and the grand occasions you once had envisioned was a part of your future too. You had a sense that the feeling was mutual for him when the question was returned to you.

Ultimately, what you were both most conscious of was the fact that you’d made the dreams you whispered about late at night in each other’s arms come true. And somehow, they had led you to be sitting right here. Together.

“How’s Aki doing?” Ruben asked and then laughed to himself. “I know she can still pack a verbal punch. She didn’t hold back at that launch party.”

That piqued your interest. She and him always had a sibling relationship with banter filled exchanges that sounded borderline abusive to those who didn’t know they were close. How badly did she chew him out to have him fearful?

“Did her choice of words allude to you finding the nearest ditch and falling into it?” You snorted.

“Okay, not that much of a punch. She told me to not do anything after I…” He bit his lip, considering. “After I told her that I didn’t want to hurt either of you again.”

Gravity thickened once more, but not in the same sense as before. The wheels were moving less heavily now with the flow of communication going like it always had. You guessed his words were a harrowing reminder of how you’d gotten to be here in the first place.

For a moment, you’d forgotten. It began to feel the way things did back then and him saying that brought reality back to the forefront. The relationship you had with him, regardless of what that looked like, would never be the same as it once was.

“What do you mean by she told you not to do anything?” Your subconscious backtracked a bit to a point you were confused about.

“Her words verbatim were then stop. It was like a warning, she was telling me not to act on what was going through my mind.” Ruben replied candidly.

It felt as if you were approaching one of those doors you thought about earlier. You took a beat to decide if you were going to turn the knob and face whatever laid in wait bravely, or walk away with blissful ignorance.

Except…there would never be the latter in your case. If you didn’t dare to look at or hear the things that could frighten you, there wouldn’t be a moment of peace in your spirit. You would toss and turn, night after night, going through a cycle of beating yourself up for shying away and then convincing yourself it was for the best.

No more running. You recall the silent promise you made to yourself when you drank with Aki not long ago. It was time to make good on that.

“What were you thinking then?” You set aside your nearly empty container and turned to him.

“I was thinking the same thing I am now.” When he looked at you, his eyes were resolute. “That I still love you. I did back then and I never stopped anywhere in between. The difference today is that it doesn’t scare me anymore. To be deeply by you and giving you it all in return.”

Your lips parted with nothing and everything behind them.

You wanted to yell at him and call him every bad name in existence. You wanted to admonish him for only just now being ready to accept your feelings for him, the very thing he once saw as a burden. But you couldn’t, because that wasn’t what you truly desired.

His revelation did end up frightening you in the way you feared the most. That whatever you discovered would be like having a mirror held up to you. Aki played dumb that night for your sake because you’d been too much of a coward to admit it - the real reason you hadn’t been on more dates than you had fingers on one hand.

“And what if I don’t anymore?” You weren’t sure if your words were born of that same cowardice or from the spite you so badly wanted to be real.

“I’d be a fool if I thought you did.” Ruben sighed. “I’ve already made peace with that aspect of us…remaining in the past.”

What was left unsaid was the reason he brought it up in the first place. Beside you asking, he could’ve just given an answer that was pacifying. Something that didn’t imply that he also wanted to know whether you still felt the same or not. Yet, he chose to go with the unfiltered truth with hopes that he’d pull the answer out of you.

“I was always the smartest one between us.” You took the bait indirectly.

Ruben looked at you then with knitted brows, proving your point. You were sharper than he was in many ways, though not by a measurable amount. Only a few seconds went by before recognition struck. His gaze softened, a hand reaching for you hesitantly.

Yours met it halfway and pulled him in. It was a move he didn’t anticipate causing his full weight to come down on you. There wasn’t room to analyze the awkward position of your body, half sitting, half lying down. That task was impossible when he was chest to chest with you, his nose a hair away from your own. Those dark pools of his swallowing you whole.

He inched closer, then paused. “Can I-”

You nudged your head up slightly to mold your mouth to his. It was just a prolonged peck, yet your heart was pounding like the ground under the galloping of hundreds of stallions. When you sank back down, you were breathless.

Ruben cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking the supple skin tenderly as his gazed fluttered all over your face. Your eyes closed against the feeling and you only had seconds to savor it before he initiated the second kiss.

He trembled against you, muscles tensed with forced composure. You didn’t want that. Your arms curled around his neck to bring him even nearer. When his tongue finally slid against yours, a part of your memory cracked open.

It left you breathing erratically in the same way you did when on the verge of tears. You’d forgotten. Though your mind had filled in the blanks with similar sensations, you’d forgotten the exact way he felt and tasted.

Kissing him felt like hot summer days of the past. The baking of your skin suddenly given reprieve under gray clouds that rolled in unannounced, and then the skies breaking to douse you. Instead of running, you always let your head fall back and your jaw slacken - feeling, tasting.

A small, desperate sound sounded from the back of your throat. How much of him had been lost? It must’ve been too much to bear to recall how his hair grew thickest at the base of his skull and how strong his grip became as his need for you grew.

“Can you say it?” Ruben rasped.

You blinked dark spots from your vision, trying to grapple with the meaning of his inquiry. It was you this time who was struggling to keep up. Once you were able to, you smiled up at him. The reason why every thought of him still hurt and why you dreamt of him so often was telling. Of course you did and yes, you could admit it at last.

“I still love you too.”

That was all he needed to hear for his final tether to snap loose. He tilted your head further, his tongue reclaiming yours - slick and warm, much like the state of things between your thighs. Fingers curled around the back of your knee, tugging, and no more had to be done for you to shuffle until he was fully nested in the middle of your legs.

You caressed along the sides of his torso, bunching up his shirt along the way. His lips detached from yours to let you remove it completely, and when you chased after them hungrily, you were met with denial.

Ruben had other plans, immediately latching onto the skin of your neck while his hands worked deftly to unfasten the buttons of your blouse. You arched into him, wanting more. Needing it after been deprived of him for so long.

Your palms greedily ran over every inch of skin they could find, grasping from the beginning of his hips all the way up to his shoulders. He’d always felt sturdy beneath your touch, but today he felt indestructible.

Muscle upon muscle rippled as he moved against you on instinct. Ruben’s breath was ragged against your collarbone where he sucked and nipped. That bottomless, gnawing yearn you had for him grew ravenous. Your hips pressed upwards and into his, lips trailing along his hairline.

“I missed you.” The words tumbled from you freely.

You didn’t think there was ever a time in your life where you’d felt this exposed, vulnerable. Coming back home to a place you thought was lost to you for eternity would do that, you supposed.

“Yeah?” He grinned against your skin.

You nodded promptly.

Ruben slid a hand up your stomach. “I missed you too. So much.”

“Come here.” You whispered.

His lips travelled up from between your breasts until they met your own again. You exhaled into them, trying to swat away your impatience to allow yourself to relish in every line and dip. When that battle could no longer be fought, you twisted beneath him.

Your hands shot to the belt low on his waist before his own could. Though the series of actions that followed were done with fervor, they might as well had lasted an eternity. Your fingers undid the buckle, his hands assisted your toes that pushed at those stubborn last layers. He went to remove the slick soak panties revealed by your ridden up skirt, but you refused to wait any longer.

“Please - ” A frustrated whine ripped its way out.

Ruben leaned down to hush you with a languid and ardent kiss. It had your toes curling into the upholstery before the feeling of him rubbing your thinly covered heat could. You moaned appreciatively, but kept pressing up into his touch - more.

Two of his digits slipped the fabric aside and sliced through your folds. That was better. You sucked on his tongue, your lower half writhing to move your swollen clit against his fingers. Maybe it should’ve been embarrassing to experience yourself react this vividly, but it wasn’t. You were beyond touch starved and the first hands to make contact were none other than his. In a way, it was oddly poetic.

“Ruben…” You called to him with your voice again, urging alongside your body.

He heard you, teeth flashing against your mouth, “Just making sure you’re ready.”

Despite your state that was bordering on delirium, you picked up on a slight tone to his statement. It felt like it had two meanings - the first spoke obviously to your physical state, and the second aimed more at your mental. Were you ready to do this again?

You could never be a stranger to Ruben. Certainly never just a friend or acquaintance. As long as you both existed in the same place and at the same time, it was always going to be you and him, together.

“I am.” Your fingers comb through his hair. “I want all of you.”

His head dropped to your chest, lips brushing over the top of your left breast. You clenched around nothing in response to him sliding his cock against you. The sound of him coating himself in your wetness, much less the feel of it, had you on the verge of madness.

When he rested his tip at your opening, you took in a shaky breath. Air slowly exited your lungs as he gradually entered you. What a stretch it still was to make sure you took every inch of him. You hugged his strong back while you adjusted.

Soon, you began circling your hips and then working his length. Ruben was quick to pick up your rhythm, pulling just a little out as your back arched and pushing all the way in when it curled. You were taking him with ease now - warm, slippery juices making a mess between your legs.

Fuck, he felt so incredible. It would’ve been useless to fight the urge to moan and coo. Those sounds coupled with slurred, half-finished variations of his name fell from your lips as your muscles began to tighten.

Ruben lost himself in you. His groans came as a direct response to your mewls, eyes fixated on the pleasure overcoming your features. He thrusted into you, going deeper than he’d been before and you gasped.

Your hands flew to his face. You cupped his stubbled cheeks and pressed your forehead to his own. With your eyes locked firmly in on his, you found yourself nodding urgently. That’s it, that’s the spot. Your ears were ringing too loudly for you to determine if you’d said those words aloud or not.

It didn’t matter either way. There was no one who knew your body better than him. Ruben eased his strokes at the very moment you needed him to and not a minute sooner. With each huff of air and roll of your hips as you came, he was there. His lips trailed along the underside of your chin, then your neck.

“Doing okay, baby?” He checked in when you stilled.

You were slightly vibrating at a higher frequency than usual and a bit hazy behind the eyes, but hadn’t felt better in ages. To make that clear to him, one of your hands reached lower to stroke and reposition his cock.

Ruben entered you again and it was easier than before, but twice as stimulating. Your moans were muffled by his neck that your face had pressed into while his thrusts into you were slow and testing. You slung one arm over his shoulder and wrapped your legs around him tight, pleading.

His pace quickened in response. Your head fell back onto the sofa, eyes blinking shut as you felt his hands sliding up your torso softly. He laced his fingers with those of your free hand and brought the conjoined pair to rest over your head.

You squeezed down as you rocked against him, shuddering with each drag of his cock through your walls. Ruben sensed how close you were again. His tongue was waiting for your mouth that opened soundlessly, lapping up your own with hunger.

“Tell me where, love.” He grunted, speeding towards his end as well.

“Stay.” You didn’t miss a beat. Knowing he would second guess your request, you reinforced it for good measure. “Stay in me.”

Ruben whined breathily and that was enough to send you tumbling into the abyss. You were a pool of uncontrolled chaos until he grabbed hold of your hips. His own staggered with each shot of his cum that settled deeply into your core.

The seconds that followed were blissful. You stroked up and down his spine as he kissed you sweetly. Ruben nuzzled his nose against yours, a move he knew you favored. It did the impossible in making you feel even more satiated than you already were.

And then, reality began to remove those rose colored glasses.

It wasn’t in a negative way. You didn’t regret having sex with him or saying any of the things that you did. With post orgasm clarity setting in, it allowed you to take in both of your half-dressed, wrecked states as well as realize you just did all of that in your office. On the common area sofa.

Your hand covered your mouth, a laugh bubbling from between your fingers. Ruben couldn’t stop himself from joining in too. He pulled out and you yelped, trying to no avail to keep all he’d given you inside.

“You’re definitely gonna need a new chair.”

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias fic #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #being

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pbandjesse · 2 years ago

Text

I was pretty productive today. Even if I didn't feel super great. I feel a little less congested right now but I also tried to just be soft with myself today. And that started with sleeping in.

I woke up enough to say goodbye to James and ask for a second blanket. And slept until 930.

When I woke up I made the bed and got dressed. I made a big breakfast. The same one I made the other day with the eggs and potatoes. While the potatoes soaked I worked on gathering all my camping stuff. And had my excellent breakfast. I had a nice morning.

I left here a little before 11. And drove to the musuem.

I was happy to see James. And we would go over some desk stuff so I would be successful while I was covering the desk for the rest of the day. They would run around and do some tasks. And I posted up at the desk with my knitting.

I also got to start and figure out the embroidery project Rosia is commissioning from me. And I think I have a pretty solid idea now so I'm looking forward to having this project next week. And hopefully it goes smoothly.

Jordan would come in and we kept offering tours but no one took us up on it. Instead me and him talked a lot. About religion and work and stuff. I got a few lines of knitting down over the afternoon. It was a good day.

And we did have some really nice guests. Some really lovely conversations and even sold some stuff which is always good for the musuem.

We also had some wedding tours come through to check out the space. I would get word from James that they were at the game (it's opening day) and that the family says howdy.

We finished up the day with me failing at I understanding how to transfer calls and panic calling Mike for help and then panicking because I couldn't hold two phones at once and it was a mess. Everyone was laughing including me. Felt really silly. But it was the end of the day and I was able to go write in my time and say goodbye.

I drove over to awah to drop off my bags. There was only a few cars there so I wasn't sure if anyone was there but they were. Only two people and I had a nice chat with them before I headed home.

When I got back here I sat in the car for a while doing some paperwork on my phone for awah and then jumping into my new project: completely finding the sources for my tour.

There has been a lot of conversation this week about updating our info and fact checking and making sure out stories aren't just telephoned through each other. So I used talk to text and told my entire cannery tour. And once I was home and after I had a little snack, I would spend 3 hours on the couch editing it and citing my sources.

I would end up with 6 pages of single spaced writing, with 69 footnoted facts. And I had a blast working on it. Sweetp was trying to sit directly on me which made me a little upset only because I was a little touchy from not feeling well. But I really enjoyed the research and googling. I found both scanned books, old articles, government sites, op-ed pages, and blog posts. And it was really great. And I feel good about everyone I am sharing and now I have some evidence to back it up and that feels good. I also spoke to Meril, who had been in the museum earlier in the day starting to look through the archives to find sources, about collaborating the research I was doing and hers as well and that's just really going to be fun.

The Orioles would win the game and James was happy. Paul was also at the game and caught a foul ball. It sounded like a good time. And I was happy when they got home around 7.

They would bring all my camp stuff down to the car. And then came upstairs and had some Mac and cheese. And we laid on the couch for a long time.

Eventually I went and took a shower and washed my hair. And now we are in bed. And James is mostly asleep. And I am going to go dry my hair a little and get ready to sleep.

Tomorrow I am going to sleep in and get ready to go meet Jess for our camping trip. We are going to elk neck and last time I was there we had bad cell service. So if I don't post tomorrow I promise it'll go up as soon as I can get service again! They will still be written.

Let's hope that camp is fun though!! I have high hopes for a restful time. Sleep well everyone. Take care of yourself!!

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arrow-guy · 4 years ago

Text

Broken Flock (11/??)

Summary: It’s been two years since you uprooted your life and left to figure out who you really are, leaving behind Bucky and Clint with little more than a note as a warning. Now, New York is calling your name and it’s time to go home. How will Clint and Bucky react to your return, and how will the time have affected your relationship?

A/N: Okay I’m actually kind of really excited about this chapter. I feel like it got away from me a little bit for a sec there in the first half. That being said, I really love the end of this chapter, and I hope you guys will as well. Please enjoy!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: WinterhawkxReader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: Discussion of human experimentation (not in depth), Discussion of politics (the Accords)

Part 10

“I didn’t expect to be stuck in a conference room for this.”

“Trust me,” Steve says. “I didn’t think it’d come to this either, but-”

The door bursts open and everyone turns to look. General Ross stands in the doorway, hands behind his back. He looks too smug for my liking. If I weren’t so sore, and if I knew I wouldn’t get in trouble, I’d wipe that look right off his face.

Steve groans. “We had a change of plans.”

“Ah, so good of you to join us, Ms. (Y/L/N),” he says. He strides through the room to stand at the head of the table and address us. “I was beginning to wonder where you’d gone.”

“Last I checked, I don’t answer to you,” I snap. “None of us do.”

“You dropped off the map for a good two weeks.”

“I was kidnapped.”

“Even so-”

“What the hell is this about?” I cut in. “Because I was under the impression that this meeting concerned myself and the Avengers alone. Not you and your little government issued lackeys.”

“You’re awful hostile for someone speaking to her superior,” he ground out.

“Who, me?” I glance around at everyone in the room. “I’m a civilian and the Avengers are a private organization. I don’t work for you, Ross. None of us do.”

“You will,” he says. “When the Accords are put into governmental procedure.”

“See, I don’t know if you’re ever going to make headway with that little project of yours.” I shuffled around in my seat before leaning on the table. “Considering the fact that you refuse to work with one of the biggest players in this, who knows how many signatures you’ll get.”

“To what do we owe the displeasure, Thaddeus?” Tony asks.

Ross’ eye twitches. “You missed your deadline.”

“We were a little preoccupied in finding (Y/N),” Steve says. “As she said, she was kidnapped. You would know this if you’d read any of the correspondence we sent you concerning this.”

“And we wouldn’t be in this position if you’d quit running in circles and rejecting any kind of amendments we suggest,” Bucky adds. “We’ve been trying to work with you on this for months, yet you never seem to be able to make up your mind on what you want from us.”

“He wants complete and total control over the Avengers,” I say.

“Excuse me?” Ross grinds out.

“I said, you want to control the Avengers,” I repeat. I look to Natasha. “Did I stutter? I don’t think I stuttered.”

“Not that I heard,” she says.

I look Ross dead in the eye. “Do you need me to speak up? Or would it be helpful if I just signed instead?”

“(Y/N),” Steve warns.

I glare at Ross, but sit back in my chair. “Sorry.”

“You’re not in trouble,” Steve says. “But I don’t want you to say anything incriminating.”

I simply nod and keep quiet. Steve gestures to Tony, who stands to face General Ross.

“We weren’t planning on announcing this today, but we’ve given your proposal some serious thought, and we’ve decided to turn you down,” Tony says.

“You’re what?!” Ross hisses. “You can’t do that!”

“Can’t we? Because we’ve been operating independently for the past two years, and things seem to be going just fine. The only major incident we’ve dealt with since Sokovia-”

Ross interjects, “Which was your fault, if I’m remembering correctly.”

“Shut the fuck up, Thaddeus,” I snap. “You don’t get to interrupt people just because you’re a General.”

Clint snorts and I squeeze his knee in a silent plea for him to be quiet.

Tony clears his throat. “As I was saying, the only incident we’ve dealt with since Sokiva has been (Y/N)’s kidnapping. And we managed to find her just fine, no thanks to you.”

“And,” Natasha says. “If I’m remembering correctly, we’ve been fully functional since S.H.I.E.L.D. went under, even without asking for any assistance from the likes of you.” She tilts her head to the side and folds her arms. “And yet you expect us to just hand ourselves over to you.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?”

“No,” I say. “I think we understand perfectly. You think that the Avengers have too much power. The only way that you can see to ensure no one gets hurt is to put a leash on them. And I can see where you’re coming from, and your care for the public, if you can even call it that, is commendable. But this ass backwards, roundabout route you’re taking is absolutely fucking absurd.”

“You said you’re not part of this team!”

“I did, but I never said I didn’t have any kind of stake in whether or not the Accords are approved. I have powers, remember? I’m directly affected by whatever kind of legislation is put in place because of those Accords. But you could never understand that, because you’ve only ever seen people like us as power hungry egomaniacs. But look around.” I gesture to the room. “No one here asked for what we got. Bruce and I were accidents, Steve was a scientific crapshoot, regardless of how successful, Bucky was kidnapped and brainwashed and experimented on without his consent, Natasha and Clint’s backgrounds are questionable at best, and Tony was blown up by his own bomb. His first suit was built out of necessity, not curiosity or the need to seize power.”

“(Y/N)...” Bucky murmurs. He takes my hand and squeezes it gently.

“By all means, work with the Avengers. But quit acting like you’ve got the moral high ground, because all you've done is set up roadblocks and refuse to compromise in any capacity."

Ross looks down his nose at me. "You've got a lot of opinions for someone so vehemently against being part of their team."

"Well, you’re ready to imprison any single powered person who doesn’t sign, simply because you deem us to be threats.” I narrow my eyes. "But last I checked, you can't arrest someone for having opinions."

"Maybe not, but you certainly seem to know more about the Accords than what's been made available to the public-"

"We've kept her up to date with the proceedings," Steve says. "She has every right to know about something that would change the way she lives her life."

"That's not a decision for you to make."

Steve simply shrugs. "You never said anything about our discussions being confidential."

“Why you-”

“You do see the position you’ve put us in, right?” Steve presses. “We’re trying to work out ways to protect our loved ones, powers or no, and still do our jobs, but you keep blocking every single suggestion we make. You want us to cooperate, but you make it impossible.”

“You say that as if you’re not trying to bend the Accords to work for you.”

“No,” Tony says. “That’s what you’re doing. Your unwillingness to collaborate with just proves (Y/N) right. You don’t want to work with us. You want to control us. Because we’re not predictable, and that scares you and your little government buddies.”

Steve rises from his seat and stares Ross down. “See, we’d be happy to work with you. But that means working with us.”

Ross tries to protest, but shuts his mouth when Bucky stands abruptly. Bucky’s glare can only be described as glacial. No one says a word.

Ross shifts closer to Steve and Natasha shoots up from her chair. Clint, Tony, and I follow suit. I shake out my wings to make myself look bigger than I am and squint at General Ross. He’s startled to find all of us resisting him and turns back to Steve, only to find him with a similarly cold expression and his arms folded across his chest.

“If you’re not going to work with us,” Steve says. “I suggest you leave.”

“Fine.” He looks around the room at each of us. “But I will be back.”

“Until you’re ready to compromise, you’re not welcome,” Tony quips. “But we’ll gladly escort you out.”

Ross seems to know he’s been beat and makes a hasty retreat. His lackeys follow him from the conference room and down the hallway, back to whatever they arrived in. When I’m sure they’re gone, I sink back into my seat and cover my face with my hands. My heart is beating out of my chest and every ache from two days earlier is back with a vengeance.

“Are you okay?” Clint asks, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder.

I nod and turn to press my face to his shoulder. “Too much excitement for one day, that’s all.”

Clint hums in agreement. “I don’t think he’ll be back for a while.”

I laugh. “Of course he won’t, he got stared down by a room full of Avengers. He probably shat himself as soon as Nat stood up.”

“Of course he did,” Clint grins at Natasha. “She’s terrifying.”

Natasha snorts and Clint tries to make another joke to actually make her laugh. Steve watches them and I wait till I can catch his eye to say something.

“Is it safe to assume that wasn’t part of the plan today?” I ask.

Steve sighs. “No, it wasn’t.” He glares at the door. “General Ross seems to have a bad habit of showing up when he’s least wanted.”

“And ignoring anything he doesn’t want to hear,” Tony adds. “I swear, we sent him at least three notices about the delay, and he just ignored every single one of them.”

“You seriously put off negotiations to find me?”

“Of course we did, (Y/N),” Tony says. “You’re family. You know what we do for family.”

I frown. “Drop everything.”

“Exactly.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, sweetheart, we did.” Bucky takes my hand. “We weren’t going to leave you behind after everything we did to find you last time.”

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes. I blink them away and whisper, “Thank you. All of you. Really.”

“There’s nothing to thank us for,” Natasha says. “Don’t argue with me about this.”

I laugh, but sniffle a moment later. “Okay, I won’t.”

“You wanna tell us why you actually wanted to meet?” Clint asks.

“Right,” Steve shifts in his seat. “We believe that we’ve apprehended everyone involved with your kidnapping, (Y/N). They’ll be tried and probably sentenced before the end of the month.”

“Oh, wow.” Surprised, I look between Steve and Tony. “I forgot how quickly you work.”

“We put in a rush order for our favorite Sesame Street character,” Tony says.

I laugh. “So I’m Big Bird now?”

“Well, you’re smart, you care about your friends and family, and you’re nice. Well…” He gestures vaguely. “Most of the time.”

“I’ll take it.”

Tony hums. “I started looking into Hoffman’s research, and it’s pretty grim stuff.”

“Oh?”

“A lot about genetic mutation and splicing animal DNA with human. From what Banner and I have found, she’d been doing this for a long time, and getting away with it, too. Based on her notes from the last five years, you’re her most successful experiment, and she didn’t even know you existed until six months ago.” He sighs. “I won’t go into too much detail, but the plans she had… she’s bad news in every sense of the phrase.”

“I got lucky, then.”

“I didn’t want to say that, but yeah. You did.”

“I see.”

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). You shouldn’t’ve been mixed up in any of this in the first place.”

“It’s not your fault. She would’ve caught up to me eventually. It’s not like ten foot wings are easy to hide.”

“All of that aside,” Steve says. “They’ll be going away for a long time. The rest of their lives, if we can manage it. They won’t be able to get to you ever again.”

I nod. “What’ll you do about Ross?”

“If we can manage it, we’ll keep pushing for reformed Accords. None of us want to be limited in what we can do, but it was easier to operate when we had the power of a government agency or two to back us up.” Steve shrugs. “If he can’t agree to that, we won’t be signing.”

“And you’re all cool with that?”

Tony nods. “We’ve argued over this for months, and getting your insight as someone on the outside helped as well. We’re not backing down from this.”

“Good. There’s no reason to roll over just because some dickhead bully demands it. He needs your support on this. He’s blind if he can’t see that.”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Steve says.

“Has she been cleared to go home yet, though?” Clint asks.

Steve nods. “She’s good to go as early as tomorrow morning.”

“Great,” Clint says, his relief obvious in his voice. “Simone has to go out of town on Saturday and without her, there’s no one left to dog-sit.”

Natasha rolls her eyes and Tony makes makes a joke about Clint’s loyalties lying elsewhere. I can’t pay attention to any of it, though. My thoughts keep straying back to what it’ll be like to be back in my apartment and away from the rest of the team. I can’t help thinking that it’ll be a little more peaceful, especially with the constant sounds of the settling apartment building around me.

Bucky squeezes my hand and I shake the fog from my head. “Hm?”

“You okay?”

I try to reassure him with a smile. “I’m fine. Just trying to plan what we need to do to get ready to go tomorrow.”

“We’ll head out bright ‘n early tomorrow. Okay?” I nod and he kisses my forehead.

“You’re sitting in the back, Clint.”

“What? You know I get carsick.”

“You don’t get carsick, you just don’t like the legroom in the back.”

“Can’t help that, Bucky, I’m a tall guy!”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “You know (Y/N) needs the front seat. She can’t sit normally because of her wings.”

Clint scowls. “Then let me drive.”

“Hell no, you’re a nightmare behind the wheel.”

“You’re no fun!” I clear my throat and both men look to me and smile. “Hey! You’re finally up.”

I shake my head. “I was up an hour ago, I just wanted to make sure I had everything.”

“Oh, right.” Clint strides across the driveway and takes my bag from me. “We were just-”

“Squabbling,” I laugh. “I know. It’s what you two do best sometimes.”

“We can do other things too,” he mumbles.

Bucky shakes his head and joins Clint and I. “Ignore him. He’s just grumpy because someone called about a burst pipe in the basement.”

“Oh shit.” Clint scratches the back of his neck and I place my hand on his arm. “Have you called someone yet?”

“Yeah, they already showed up, but it won’t be a cheap fix.”

“It’ll be fine, I’m sure. We can get it sorted out when we get back, right?” He nods and wanders off to pack up the car.

Bucky hooks his arm around my waist and I tilt my head up to kiss his cheek. “You’re looking better this morning,” he says.

“I slept really well last night. Probably has something to do with you two.”

“You give us too much credit, (Y/N).”

“I don’t think you give yourselves enough.”

He smiles and shakes his head. “I’ll go get the car set up.”

“Okay. I’ll be over in a minute.”

I stand back and watch them move around the car. Clint scoops up two more duffel bags, I assume they’re his and Bucky’s, from beside the car and places them in the trunk. Bucky puts the passenger seat down and I can see him roll his eyes when Clint sidles up beside him and says something close to his ear. Clint laughs when Bucky pinches his side and I can’t help smiling.

It suddenly hits me how thankful I am that I have both of them. I don’t know what I would do without them, or even where I’d be right now if they weren’t in my life.

My smile slowly slips away as I realize that I love them. Different from when we first met and more than I did when I left.

My heart flutters and I press my fingers to my lips, just letting the realization wash over me. I’m not scared. Just peaceful. This feels right.

“You okay, (Y/N)?”

I refocus and meet Clint’s eyes. “Hm?”

“You were zoning out,” he says. “Are you feeling alright?”

I smile. “I’m good. Nothing to worry about.”

“You sure?”

I nod and approach the car. “Mhm.”

He wraps his arm around my shoulders and kisses the top of my head. “Okay, good.”

“Help me into the car?”

“Of course.” He grins and gestures to the open passenger door. “Your chariot awaits.”

----------

Part 12

How’s that for an ending? I’m pretty fond of it, personally. I promise this isn’t the grand ending, but we’re getting close, I think. But for now, we know that the reader loves her boys, and that’s what really matters.

I’d love to know how you reacted! I always love knowing what you guys think, so please comment, reblog, like, and/or shoot me an ask!

If you’d like to be tagged in future chapters, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @darling-loki, @lemonadeorange73, @tofeartheunknown, @queenoftheunderdark

This fic:

@avengerscompound, @nerdy-bookworm-1998, @shirukitsune, @keenmarvellover, @katebarton15, @feelmyroarrrr

#winterhawkxreader #readerxwinterhawk #winterhawk x reader #reader x winterhawk #bucky barnesxreader #readerxbucky barnes #clint bartonxreader #readerxclint barton #winterhawk #bucky barnes #clint barton #reader insert marvel fic

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cherry-gemz · 4 years ago

Text

City by the Bay: Part II

Summary: Fates push you and a handsome and known stranger into each other's paths. His chilvary and good looks make you take a leap into his world and more.

Pairing: Keanu Reeves x Y/N (F!Reader)

Word Count: 1200+/-

Rating: PG, fluff

A/N: First time taking a try on a Keanu fic, be nice, please! This little ficlet will have more chapters, hope you enjoy. Appreciate comments or feedback 💜.

---------------------------------------

The roar of the motorcycle muted any fear of riding for the first time. The exhilaration of zipping through the city and the fact that your arms were around the handsome actor was enough to make you swoon.

As you pressed your face against the black leather jacket, the coolness tingled your cheek. You were becoming slightly chilly thanks to the spilled drink earlier and the breeze of the bay air nipped at your nose.

Keanu motioned the motorcycle down Pine Street and made a few turns to familiar spots. However as he turned up Temple street, there was a back alley that you never would have noticed and it led up a long and windy hill. He zipped by and before you knew it, you were on the 101-N and your heart raced.

You quickly shut your eyes as you travelled the freeway and what seemed like an eternity, the compact architecture of the city disappeared and the road widened. Many trees aligned the path and after a left turn, he slowed the bike down and approached a fairly large driveway.

At the top of the driveway was a gorgeous, hidden, two story house. There was redwood sliding on the exterior and large windows that showcased a large oak tree, making the 1960's era home feel like a treehouse of sorts.

You gasp at the sight of the structure and the bike comes to a stop. Keanu turns off the engine and you hop off and unbuckle the helmet, handing it to him.

"Wow," is all you could mutter as you gawk at the house. "Your house...it's unbelievable."

"Thanks," he replies as he tucks the helmet by his hip. "Only renting the place while I finish up a project. But I am partial to it. See that oak tree?"

You nod as you follow him to the front door and he enters the foyer.

"Well the tree was repurposed, it would have died otherwise. Makes it seem like we are above the treetops, overlooking the bay." He points to a large window and you can see the closest house is about a good quarter mile away.

He sets his helmet on the walnut table and the retractable sliding glass doors from the dining allow the sunlight to peer in with ease.

"It's really remarkable."

He turns to you, "I am extremely rude. I haven't even asked you for your name."

"Y/N," you smile and he heads to the fridge.

"Y/N, he repeats as he pulls out some bottled water. "That's a lovely name."

"Thank you, it's within the family."

"Very cool," he hands you a water bottle and you graciously accept.

"Where are my manners?" He says as he shakes his head. "Let me bring you a shirt so you can change. Make yourself at home."

You nod as he quickly disappears and you wander around. You notice a few trinkets here and there, mail, one or two empty beer bottles. But other than that it's fairly minimalist. You open the sliding door to the wrap around balcony and admire the city that you lived in all your life. Seeing a different perspective for the first time, you smile and shake your head at your inability to comprehend you are in Keanu's house. You've met Keanu Reeves. A star who you've admired and dreamt about.

He's obviously dashing and attractive, but you don't know if you're mixing up his kindness with your enthusiasm of meeting him. You expect that this moment will be short lived and you'll be back at stocking books at the bookstore.

A tap on your shoulder startles you and you jump slightly. He's holding his hands up jokingly and hands you a black t-shirt.

"I come in peace," he jokes.

"I'm sorry! I was in deep thought," you reply as you accept the shirt.

"Yeah, looked like you were someplace else."

"What? Oh no, there's nowhere else I'd want to be," you smile.

He smiles back, "I am a person who always wants to be somewhere else."

You give him a look of confusion.

"David Levithan?" He responds.

"What?"

"Were you quoting him?"

You laugh heartily, "No, I wish I was that cool. I do know him...err of him. His writings, that is."

God, are you always this tongue tied when speaking to the opposite sex? Or is it just the gorgeous man before your eyes? Gotta be the latter.

"Ah so you're a reader…" he motions you to follow him back inside.

"I mean, I read yes. I work in a bookstore off Van Ness."

"Books, Inc.?" The two of you walk into the adjorning room and you notice that it's much more furnished and cozy.

"Yeah...you know it?" You run your hands across the spines of books on a shelf. You peruse the authors: Tolkien, Dostoyevsky, Dumas, Proust.

"I have found myself there from time to time. Surprised I haven't seen you though."

"I work there part-time. I'm really a chef, well a pop-up chef."

"Is that what the cool kids are calling themselves these days?"

You laugh, "What?"

"Don't mind me," he rubs the stubble of chin and looks at his book collection, seeming to search for one in particular.

"Pop-up...like a supper club? It's a way that I can still work without having to go bankrupt in the city. I can't necessarily afford a restaurant and all with my salary. Plus it gives me the flexibility."

He still scans the books and then stops to a light blue cover. He tickles the spine with his slender fingers and pulls the hardcover out. "Have you read this?"

He hands the book to you and you read, "Molecular Gastronomy…?"

"Yeah!" He exclaims excitedly and he starts talking with his hands. "It's written by this fantastic French chemist and how he collaborates with French Chef, Pierre Gagnaire. It's...out of this world."

"I can't say I've read it," you reply and read the back print.

"Take it! I think you'll love it. Or I'd like you to tell me what you think."

"Thank you, yeah I'll totally give it a go."

"Excellent," he smiles and you can't help but stifle a giggle from one of his famous movie quotes.

He notices and blushes, "Sorry, I...that came out weird, didn't it?"

"A bit, but it was entertaining," you laugh.

He rubs the back of his neck, "I can't seem to comprehend words or construct them when I'm around a beautiful woman."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that..." you say shyly as you hug the book against your chest. You realize you're still in your stained blouse and look down.

"What? No...sorry...look I don't want you think I'm some weirdo. I never just bump into someone and then bring them back to my house...I just felt like I knew you or felt comfortable around you…" he rambles.

"It's okay, I don't ever just jump on a motorcycle with a hot stranger."

"Hot, huh?" He smirks and gets you flustered.

"Uhhh...is there a bathroom where I can change my shirt?"

"Yeah...just around the corner. Did you...did you want to hang out for a bit? I mean, I didn't know if you were headed somewhere before I spilled your drink. What am I thinking? Of course you were off somewhere…"

"Are you always like this?" You giggle as you turn to head to the hall. He's earnest and it just makes you like him more.

"Like what?"

"Nevermind, I'll be right back," you reply coyly. "And...I didn't have any plans today...I'd love to hang out."

#keanu reeves #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves fanfic #keanu x female reader #romance #san fransico #the city by the bay

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cafeinthemoon · 4 years ago

Text

Purple Dragon - Chapter 1

Title: Purple Dragon

Genre: Fanfiction

Pairing: none yet

Rating: teen and up

Word count: 2405

Chapter: 1/?

Symbols: ⭕ | ➕ | 💛 | ▶️ | ▶️

Warnings: canon divergence, past trauma and other stuff in the next chapters, but the appropriate warnings will be included 👍

N. A.: God I'm so happy and nervous at the same time bc this is my first bnha fic! 🥺 Just binge watched 3 seasons in less than a week and now I'm reluctant to finish season 4 and face bnha hangover so I'm probably don't know exactly what I'm doing here, but here we go! Yay!

Chapter 1 - American Girl

The morning outside the U.A.’s building was so quiet that Midoriya Izuku would never believe that all the disturbance he heard once he walked into it was possible. A confusion of whispered words, exclamations of surprise and excitement and muffled laughs came from his classroom, at some point of the corridor through which he was walking now, and seemed to meet him as a morning greeting.

Well, soon he noticed that some of his friends were actually coming to greet him besides the noise, their faces showing the exact expression he would expect from what he heard. Uraraka Ochacho reached him first, her big eyes shinning as if she was proud of herself for being the first one to speak to the newcomer.

- Good morning, Deku-kun! – she showed the boy her best smile – I think you’re going to regret not coming earlier today!

Midoriya was not regretting anything at the moment. In fact, meeting Uraraka before anyone else at school was not something about which he would complain: the warmth that always came up to his cheeks when he put his eyes on her was both embarrassing and comforting, if such thing was possible. The only problem was that he used to struggle to pay attention to anything around him or to control his actions every time this happened, and that was his precise situation at that time.

- G-good morning, Uraraka-san – he heard his own voice as if it belonged to someone else, the words coming out by themselves – What are you talking about?

The girl took a breath and was about to spread the news, but another voice was heard behind her.

- Oh, Midoriya! Good morning! I suppose you already know by now... we are going to meet a new classmate today!

Iida Tenya, with his composed manners, joined them with that discreet smile he believed to be appropriate for a class representative to express how excited he was with the arrival of another student at the heroes’ course, but both Midoriya and Uraraka knew that more than any of their friends he was urging to meet the new aspiring hero.

Uraraka’s face was now red and her lips were closed so tight that she could suffocate. Maybe she was irritated by Iida’s interruption or something, but whatever the case that was how he saw things, and he started to apologize in his well known way.

- I am so sorry for my rude behavior, Uraraka-san! – he bent down at her, his arms glued to the sides of his body, his head almost touching the floor – Please, tell Midoriya the whole story and I will not open my mouth until you are finished! This is a promise!

While the girl was doing her best to convince Iida that she wasn’t offended at all, Midoriya was still a bit lost with all that information coming to him at once. He started to walk toward the class as the others followed him.

So we are going to have a new classmate soon, right?

- Yes! – Uraraka have completely forgotten all the irritation with the urge to speak – According to what I’ve heard, her name is Ryu and she just came from the United States. Well, actually she was born in Japan but her family moved to the United States when she was little, so this makes her almost a foreigner – she clenched her fists – It’s unbelievable! She can communicate in both Japanese and English, if what I’ve heard is correct. She must be a very smart person. At least we will be able to talk to her, and she might help us during English lessons! Isn’t it fantastic, Deku-kun?

Midoriya smiled, for the first time contemplating the idea of having a new classmate, and one who came from such a distant place as the United States.

- Yes, that’s amazing. But where is she?

This time, Iida, back to his composed attitude, didn’t see any problem in taking the floor:

- She’s talking to Aizawa sensei right now, but nobody can enter the room. Apart from what Uraraka said, we don’t have much more information about her. We don’t even know what type of quirk she has. We will have to wait until she is officially introduced to us.

They stopped at the classroom’s entry when Midoriya questioned how they got the little information they just spread. The answer to this came from the first person who greeted them at the door.

- We got a little help in this! – the pink, round face of Mina Ashido popped out in front of the trio with a smile that could be both of joy and embarrassment; she pointed her thumb to someone behind her back – Shouji kind of refused to collaborate, so fortunately we had Jirou by our side – and lowering her tone – She was dying to gather as much information as she could, but if you say that to her, she will deny, of course.

Midoriya pointed his finger to Jirou.

- So you asked her to listen behind the door?

Mina’s cheeks passed from pink to red in an instant. Jirou was not so close from the group to hear what was being said, but she looked away as to avoid additional questions. Midoriya looked at Iida and Uraraka seeking for a confirmation; it came in the form of clenched fists and lips bitten.

At the bottom of the class, there were more people who weren’t willing to discuss the bad habit of listening private conversations when such important events were about to take place: Kaminari was wondering if the new student’s quirk was similar to his; Kirishima, with his sharp smile at sight, agreed that it would be quite an experience if it happened; Sero was arguing that her quirk would be more impressive if it resembled his own; Mineta, lost in his own thoughts, didn’t say a word, but it would be no surprise if he was questioning himself about the girl’s physical attributes.

Though he could understand his classmates’ feelings, Midoriya couldn’t say he relate to the way in which they express their interest in the new girl. On his side, it was better not to create great expectations and let the facts surprise him by themselves. Maybe that was the opinion of some of the students who kept quiet in the middle of that noise, like Tsuyu Asui and Momo Yaoyorozu, engaged in a private and calm talking.

The only ones who seemed to have no particular interest in meeting the mysterious girl were Todoroki and Kacchan, the first one, with a book open in front of him, too concentrated in his own things to give his surroundings any attention, the second too irritated with all the mess to say anything.

***

Moments before

There were enough seats for at least ten people to occupy in that room, as well as a good space between each of them, but waiting in one of them somehow was not possible for Ryu Murasaki. There was something in the silence of those four walls that would not let her nerves relax. Was it the fact that she haven’t enough rest before attending to the U.A.’s call or was it the lack of time to process the fact that she was back in the country from where she moved at three? It wasn’t possible to tell, and neither she wanted to think about it. Not now.

The only thing Ryu could wish for now was the noise of her own thoughts to diminish. In normal circumstances, this could be reached while she would stand beside a window and just stare at the things outside, but now it didn’t seem to work though she has been in front of the room’s large windows for about ten minutes.

That was the funny thing about all of this: nothing under her sight – the morning sky out there, the trees, the school’s gates – was out of place. Yet not everything felt right. Ryu sighed; it was not so easy to stop projecting one’s impressions in lifeless things.

The door was opened at the opposite side of the room and she turned her neck toward it. A man entered the place without making a sound. He closed it behind his back and came to the center of the room, still in silence. Ryu has no great familiarity with the habits of the people there, but it was easy to suppose that she had to leave her spot and approach to greet him.

The man, tall and all dressed in black, carried a white fabric stripe wrapped around his neck, too thin and too long to be called a scarf. Was it an eccentricity of him or something else? There was no way to find out. This dress code was not the only unusual thing noticed by her: his hair, black and falling in waves around his shoulder and over his forehead, almost hiding his eyes, seemed to have grown for a long time without the interruption of a regular cut, and the same situation applied to his beard, all dark dots growing out the pale skin of his face. Everything in his appearance and presence reminded of tiredness and silence. Ryu didn’t try to guess what type of quirk he had, but she was convinced that it had something to do with put people to sleep.

The man’s greeting was simple.

- Good morning. You must be Ryu Murasaki, the girl who we are supposed to receive as our new student in the heroes course. According to what was sent to us, you were born in japan, but your parents moved to the United States with you when you were younger than five. So you manifested your quirk while you lived there.

The girl nodded.

- And thanks to your dual nationality, you are also fluent in English and Japanese.

- Yes.

His tone, low and slow, fitted him: it was not what she would call encouraging, so no question was made and he just kept speaking.

- I apologize for not giving enough time to rest after your long travel to Japan. My name is Shouta Aizawa and I am the teacher of 1 A Class, of which you are going to be part of. I’ve received some information about your quirk and your history, and what I can say is that it is something different from what I’ve seen in my years of experience as a hero and a teacher. So I’d like to hear an explanation from you. Can you give me details about your quirk?

Ryu felt warm sweat gathering in her palms and between her fingers. Speaking about her quirk always brought her the same sensation she thought she would have if someone asked her to take her clothes off in front of a crowd. Among the replies she had for that type of question was running away or hiding part of the answer.

This latter was what she tried to do at that time.

- I can… do things with my mind. I think of something I want to do and materialize my thought thanks to the energy I’m able to gather in my hands.

The next question came as no surprise after a short explanation like that.

- Can you show me how you do it?

Ryu swallowed. She looked around and found a small vase upon a table. When she raised her hand toward it, a purple, moving shade surrounded her fingers at the same time it manifested in the object’s surface; one movement from Ryu’s hand and the vase floated above the table. After a moment, she used the same delicacy to put it back in its place, and the purple shade finally disappeared from it and from her hand.

That was enough for now. It had to be enough…

- Is this everything you can do today?

The question hit her like a slap on her face.

- What do you mean, Aizawa-sensei?

- According to your history, you are currently able to modify, hide or destroy things with your quirk. However, instead of using your skills to change the object’s configuration , you just choose to make it float.

- And what’s the problem with it? – she interrupted.

Though his tone didn’t alter, something in his eyes intensified when Aizawa replied this time. Ryu didn’t like that.

- I hope you understand that I need to know exactly what you can do. It seemed that the best way to get an answer from you was by talking, but apparently I was deceived.

And what if I have my reasons to not talk to a stranger? was the first thing that came as an answer. But the words never came to her tongue. What she was supposed to say to that? Didn’t that man have no consideration at all?

Well, maybe not.

- Ryu Murasaki, activate your quirk and try to attack me now.

The girl took a step back without realizing it.

- You… You cannot be serious!

The silence Aizawa gave her as reply showed that yes, he was serious. Ryu had no choice. The purple energy appeared on her hand for the second time, more intense, faster in its swirling. She raised her hand and tried not to think of the results when she blasted the shade at his direction… and nothing happened.

She looked at the teacher and saw his hair floating above his head, while a reddish glimmer covered his pupils. She dropped her hand at the same time his hair and eyes went back to normal. The air in the room, suddenly disturbed with the conflict, was calm again. Ryu opened her mouth and closed it again, unable to speak, but the latent question was in her eyes. What did you just do?

- I forgot to mention, but I am also known as my hero name, Eraserhead. You must know what it means.

So, Aizawa’s quirk is to erase other people’s power. The fact that he was a teacher to aspiring heroes was suggesting, then. When she looked at him again, something assuring was perceived in his monotone traits.

- Overthinking your situation won’t help you at all. I know it seems too much to ask this from you now, but trust the U.A.’s program and you new teacher. As long as you are here, there’s nothing to worry about.

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fic #my hero academia #midoriya #tenya lida #bnha ochaco uraraka #my first work in this fandom okay #please be nice #mha #bnha fanfics #mha fanfiction #aizawa #bnha aizawa #aizawa shouta #mha oc #mha original character

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x--daughters-of-darkness--x · 4 years ago

Text

DELAIN's MARTIJN WESTERHOLT Announces End Of Band's Most Recent Lineup: 'The Others Have Chosen To Pursue Different Paths'

DELAIN keyboardist Martijn Westerholt has announced the dissolution of the band's most recent lineup. Going forward, Martijn plans to "keep DELAIN alive" by taking it back to a project form, releasing music with special guests.

Westerholt broke the news of the end of the latest DELAIN lineup in a social media post earlier today. He wrote: "For the last year or so, the collaboration within the band ceased to work as well as it once had. Some of us were no longer happy with the current roles in the band. We all tried very hard to find a solution for over a year, but sadly we were unable to find one. As a result, we will all be going our own ways and pursuing our own endeavors.

"I am very sad our cooperation has come to end, but at the same time I am very grateful for all the years we were able to work together. Together we toured the world, shared highs and lows, and met with many successes as well as times that pushed us to learn and grow. We all enjoyed meeting our fans and making new friends all over the globe. I would like to thank my fellow bandmates and wish Timo, Otto, Joey, and especially Charlotte the very best for the future. And I hope that will mean onwards and upwards to new musical adventures for each of them!

"That being said, DELAIN will live on. The others have chosen to pursue different paths. I have decided to keep DELAIN alive by continuing on with writing and producing the music for DELAIN as I always have. I started DELAIN as a project in 2002 and for the next album I will take it back to a project form, releasing music with special guests. As it looks now many familiar faces will be returning to join me on this journey.

"I can't express my gratitude enough to all of you Delainers that have supported us over so many years. Your dedication to the music and the community you created for us has been overwhelming. Even though this situation is not ideal, change never usually is at first, I hope you will continue to join DELAIN on its new journey. This is not the end of DELAIN. It's the end of a chapter, but also the beginning of a new one."

Singer Charlotte Wessels said: "DELAIN has been my world for nearing 16 years, which is half of my life and my entire career. So it is with a heavy heart that I am confirming that DELAIN will continue as Martijn's solo project, and my involvement with DELAIN ends here.

"At this time, I know that you might have questions about the 'why' in all of this. I fully understand and respect that. Simply put, it is the sad conclusion of more than a year of trying to find solutions to built up grievances. Part of me feels like I'm letting all of you down, I'd like you to know that this decision was not taken lightly and I apologise to those of you who had high hopes of seeing all of us together live on stage again after lockdown. Until recently, I thought this might still be in the cards for us as well.

"In the last 15 years we have released music that we have poured our heart and soul into. We have toured the world, rocked so many stages and met so many wonderful fans; I cherish all of that beyond measure. Every eye locked during a lyric, every front row high five, every after show hug (remember hugs?) From the sweaty hole in the wall to the Wembleys, Wackens, and Paradisos of our career. The memories we — band, crew, fans — have made together, will last forever. And in the end, they are more important to me than the differences that we couldn't overcome, so that's where I'd like the focus of the narrative to be.

"So where do we go from here? Otto, Timo and Joey are also leaving DELAIN, but will carry on making music with their own projects. Make sure you're following what they're up to. I can't wait to see and hear how they will take the world by storm. Martijn will continue with DELAIN, and although it may be painful at first to see a DELAIN that I'm not a part of, I do wish him the very best in this new chapter. Like any relationship, our creative partnership has required work at times, but it has also been incredibly fruitful and I am grateful for all the things that we made together. Finally, I hope that DELAIN remains a positive force in everyone's lives. We Are The Others, always will be, and none of this changes that.

"As for myself, I'll keep writing and performing music. It is the thing that gives me joy and purpose.

"I'm beyond grateful for my amazing community on Patreon, something that was supposed to be a side project from DELAIN, but will now be the primary place that I release music and create art and community. This platform allows me to keep creating independently and I am thankful for all patrons that make this possible. I am dedicated to bring you my absolute best, and look forward to making magic with all of you.

"I welcome the future with open arms, and I hope to see you on my journey."

DELAIN's sixth full-length album, the Westerholt-produced "Apocalypse & Chill", was released in February 2020 via Napalm Records. The 13-track recording features guest vocals by BEAST IN BLACK singer Yannis Papadopoulos on the song "Vengeance". Upon its release, the album reached the Top 50 in several European countries, including Switzerland (No. 8), Germany (No. 14) and the band's native country, The Netherlands (No. 24).

#Charlotte Wessels #Delain #2021 news

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acrobaticcatfeline · 5 years ago

Text

Of Books, Brothers, and Broadway (Creativitwins College AU) Chapter Two!!!

Word Count: 3814

TW: Remus, Janus, ocean creatures, I.E. octopus, swearing, I think thats it?

Pairings: pining logince and dukeceit right now, mentioned established moxiety.

Notes: This is pages 4-11 of a current 24. I can like, literally not stop writing this it is a stream of consciousness and I haven’t felt this productive or creative in such a long time. We meet the other 5 in this finally! At this point with 24 pages I think the title should be Of Books, Brothers, Broadway, and Boys. So there’s a little hint. Listen I’m just desperate for soft.

Summary: Roman and Remus are trying to write a musical all while juggling their college courses and jobs. Remus and Roman both inadvertently end up introducing their friend group to their brother and two are pining hard for their brothers best friend. Meanwhile, Remus talks to his boss and gets some news that makes his day.

“Hiya Roman!!! Hey wait up a sec!”

Roman was walking through campus when he heard Patton trying to grab his attention over his headphones. He pulled the headset off his head and turned towards the energetic friend who was racing to catch him.

“Howdy Popstar! I missed you last period, where were you?”

Patton panted softly as he tried to catch his breath. He finally smiled up at Roman.

“Oh yeah, my boyfriend is at home sick and I lost track of time. I didn’t even think about it until his phone alarm went off for his online class, what did I miss?”

“Oh nothing much, another duet skit, lucky for you, you got paired with me!”

“Oh boy, what skit?”

“I’ll give you the packet when we get to class, but it's from midsummer nights”

“Ohhhh I love that play!!!”

Roman was just about to bring up the musical he and Remus had started, being called the magicians notebook, when JJ walked up. He gave a casual peace sign and Patton waved.

“What's up with our favorite preps today?”

“Well actually I was just about to tell Patton about this musical-”

Jay decided to jump in front of them, now walking backwards as he stared at Roman with barely restrained joy.

“Musical you say? What’s it called? Who made it? Do I know about it?”

Roman chuckled.

“It's actually one me and my brother are making”

“YOU'RE MAKING A MUSICAL!?”

Roman couldn't hold back the loud laughter at JJ’s response, he doubled over laughing, still smiling widely as JJ was bouncing on his heels and Patton stared at him in awe.

“Wow, you and your brother are making a musical?”

“Roman I don't think I have to explain to you just how mother fucking rad that is, I think you know that already, but whats it about? Do you have any songs yet? Do you have a name yet? Who's your brother? I have so many questions Roman I can't believe I wasn't the first person you told!!!”

“You were you dork! You and Patton are currently the only ones who know about it!”

“I need answers Roman!”

“Salutations Remus. I presume you got your portion of the assignment done… 2 minutes ago?”

Remus rushed to his seat as their professor started class. He rubbed the back of his neck and laughed nervously.

“Am I that obvious Shakespeare?”

Logan stared at him emotionlessly. He looked him over then leaned his head on his hand.

“You are barely on time, cluing me in that you were preoccupied with something and lost track of time, your bag is still open, likely due to you shoving your laptop in it hurriedly without double checking the zipper, and of course, you looked sheepish as you sped in, hinting that you were doing something you weren't supposed to be doing slash doing something you were supposed to have done earlier last minute, instead of proud like you do when you were wasting your time on something you felt justified in taking your time on”

Remus shrunk. Logan could always read him like an open book, though it was his fault for befriending the psychology major he supposes. He felt ready to be completely humiliated as Logan smirked and pulled up his phone.

“And of course, the text I got from you an hour ago warning me that you might run late because of the assignment was a nice bonus”

Remus felt his cheeks redden as he remembered messaging him. He probably shouldn't be so surprised and attacked and yet he turned his face towards their professor with a huff as he pulled out his notebook and textbook. He was startled out of his thoughts as he heard the hall door open suddenly. He turned towards the noise and snickered as he saw Virgil clambering towards them as quietly as possible.

“Mr. Storm I would appreciate that if you are late to class you attempt to cause less of a distraction to the rest of your peers”

“Y-yes sir, I’ll keep that in mind”

Remus had to cover his mouth as Virgil squeezed past them and took the spot on the other side of him. He gave him a quick look and went back to the text. A small piece of paper slipped in front of him as Virgil unpacked that asked if he had missed anything. Remus shook his head idly. The three kept quiet until the teacher released them. As they packed up, Logan started a conversation.

“What made you late Virge?”

“Huh? Oh, I'm not feeling great, I woke up feeling like shit. I was originally going to just stay home sick, but I remembered our project so here I am I guess”

“Oh, Vee, you could've texted us, you didn't have to come if you were dying”

“Meh, I spent too much on this class to miss it. Especially since it's one of my prereqs. I’ll survive”

“Well I guess if you're gonna be here we might as well take advantage of it. I don't have any more classes today, you guys want to get some writing done?”

“I suppose that would be amenable”

“Sure, but I need some caffeine first, haven't had any at all today”

“Good god how were you able to drive here?”

“I can function without coffee if I get enough sleep. I also am simply not addicted”

“Well that is ridiculous, you must not be human. But I could go for a soda right now. Want me to take orders and meet you guys at the library?”

“Lit. you know what I want”

“Oh my god, somebody needs to take your flashcards”

“If you like having 5 fingers on each hand I would recommend you not do that”

Remus was getting annoyed with his brother. He was quietly ranting on the phone at him in the study room he had booked with Logan and Virgil.

“Roman, I literally could not give a shit if you told your friends about the musical idea, I was gonna tell mine as well. … so fucking what if its my final? None of your friends are in any of my courses, I'm not scared they're gonna plagiarize me, you trust them, I'm sure that you have half a decent taste in friends. … Listen, I can't deal with all of you right now, I have a collaborative story I'm supposed to be working on, we can deal with this when I get home. Just like, have a glass of your shitty wine and maybe you'll calm down. I gotta go, i’ll see you later”

Logan smirked at him as he hung up. He did the lean again and god Remus could throw him into the wall.

“What's this about a musical I hear? I didn't take you for a song and dance guy”

Remus sighed, brushing his hand through his hair as he sat down in front of his computer.

“I'm not, but my brother is. When we were younger he said that we should make a musical together. And as a man of my word, I've been working on a book for a musical for him. He's already got a couple of songs written up for it and we’re working with it. It's actually not half bad. He may drive me insane, but he's talented at what he does”

Remus had just started typing when his phone alarm went off. His eyes widened and he scrambled to pack up again.

“SHIT!!! I have a meeting with my boss, they're giving me an octopus to care for I can't believe I forgot I'm such an idiot oh shit I'm gonna be late and they won't-”

Logan stopped his hands. He looked him calmly in the eyes with a small smile.

“Hey, we’ll pack for you and drop your stuff off for you, just go and get that octopus Remus”

Remus smiled gratefully and after checking he had his phone and keys, he ran to get home.

“Hello Dr. sanders! Please come in!”

The doctor smiled at him as he stepped inside. He glanced around the area idly with a smile.

“With how energetic and, well, chaotic you are at work I didn't expect your home to be so immaculate!”

“Heheh, yeah I prefer a clean canvas. Sorry not everything is in place, I kinda forgot about this until just a bit ago and had to rush out of a study group. It's usually cleaner than this, well, at least most of it is, my brother is a mess, but he has a completely separate space. Oh boy I’m talking a lot”

“It's fine kid. Mind showing me where you'd be keeping her?”

Remus nodded and led the doctor into his room, and suddenly he felt a little self conscious over all the terrariums in his room. Dr. Sanders paid his full attention to the fish tank.

“This is impressive, it's a nice little ecosystem for all of them, are you sure Cephy won't disrupt them all?”

“Oh! Yes, I did a little research on her breed and none of the fish in there are food for her, nor is she food for. I know she's super friendly and all these guys have been very receptive to new members in the past, my newest one is the angel fish but she doesn't seem to be bothered by bigger creatures. I also have a back up tank for worst case scenarios, and the fish don't bother my brother!”

“Only thing I'd say is, maybe add some driftwood or floating objects for her to lay on”

He then turned to look at the other tanks. He smiled as he saw the lizards scatter a bit. Remus felt like he was about to die.

“These are pretty nice! You have a nice assortment of reptiles here, where'd you get them?”

“Oh, um, just uh, just outside. A good amount of lizard friends come to our patio, and every once in a while they'll like, crawl up to me. My family says I’m the reptile whisperer heh”

“That's intriguing. Most of these species are loner types, were they hurt?”

“Um, some of them were, got beat up by a local cat or something I think”

“Huh. that's even more fascinating. Anyways, back to the point. You know the rules with Cephy right? You aren't in charge of buying her food or medication until we decide whether or not she can be released. If she doesn't cut it, we will likely have you keep her rather than attempt to remove her from familiarity and then she will become your responsibility alone. She may have an attitude the first few days from moving around, but for the most part she will integrate well I think. If any complications arise, you have my personal number, and I think that's it! We will send her home with you tomorrow with a week's supplies. Any questions?”

“No sir! Thank you so much, you won't regret this, I swear!”

“Oh, I forgot to tell you last week! We were asked to lower our number of interns!”

“What? Wait why are you telling me this?”

“Well, due to that we had to make some changes, and i'd like to formally offer you a full time job! And of course, by full time, I don't plan on changing your hours unless it works with your school schedule. We would love to keep you as one of our marine biologists once you graduate!”

“I- sir, thank you so much, I, I am so grateful! Wait, does that mean I can get even more hands on experience with the critters? Oh thank you so much!”

“Heh, you're one of our best workers, I figure it might be helpful to have a proper wage. But on that note, I really should be going, I have an appointment in an hour and it's a 45 minute drive from here”

“Oh, yeah! Yes, of course, here, I’ll show you out!”

When Roman got home he didn't expect to have Remus tackle him.

“Whats up Remus?”

“I PASSED!!! SHE'S COMING TOMORROW!!! AND I GOT A PROMOTION!!! ROMAN I GOT A RAISE, I'M GETTING AN EXTRA 5 DOLLARS AN HOUR I CAN'T BELIEVE MY LUCK!!!”

“Holy shit man, maybe you should be paying all the bills now, you make way fuckin more than I do at the cafe!”

“Oh, wait, fuck, Logan and Virgil are coming by fuck I gotta clean”

Roman just about died laughing as Remus ran around trying to tidy the place. It was only a few minutes before there was a knock on the door. Roman got it as Remus made a pot of coffee.

“Hello!”

“Hello Remus! We came to return your bag and your soda that you left at the library”

“Logan open your eyes, that's not Remus. Remus has a mustache you fool”

Logan opened his eyes to see Remus. But not Remus, Remus was more scruffy, and he was shorter, Remus was only a little taller than him, but the not Remus in front of him towered a good several inches over him. And the biggest difference to Logan, was Remus had auburn eyes, almost red, the not Remus in front of him had bright green eyes. Logan felt his cheeks redden. He looked down sheepishly after having stared.

“My apologies, you must be Remus’ brother. My name is Logan and this is Virgil”

“Well hello there Logan and Virgil, my name is Roman. Please, come in”

“Roman STOP FLIRTING!!!”

The two stepped in and laughed as Roman shouted back.

“I LITERALLY JUST SAID HELLO AND MY NAME OH MY GOD”

Logan and Virgil wandered in, meeting Remus in the living room, greeting them with a smile and cups of coffee. The two took them graciously and sat down at Remus’ request. While Remus stayed in the kitchen as he searched for snacks in the cabinet, Roman leaned against the wall, giving the guests a quick look over. He smiled faintly as he saw the glasses clad one, Logan he reminded himself, turn red at the attention.

“Roman did you ever go to the store and get what I asked you for?”

“Of course not, you didn't give me a list and I prefer to keep our phone calls to twice a month and I was out of calls”

“You're an idiot”

“Yeah I sorta went into the least brainy major I could find. You're supposed to be the brainy one”

Remus sighed as he brought out a plate of fruits and chips and dip. He shot a glare at Roman's smirk.

“What are you smirking about now?”

“Oh nothing, just a little offended that you hid your cute friends from me”

Roman nearly sputtered after the words left his mouth as Logan turned bright red. Virgil just rolled his eyes at him and Remus looked just about ready to smash his glass of coffee over Roman's head, but he stayed resolute.

“Roman, can't you just go flirt with a random tree? Or one of my lizards! Keith would love a boyfriend!”

“I would rather make out with an octopus”

“Well duh! Octopi are great kissers!”

“God you and Jay would get along so well I really need to introduce you two”

“Yeah sure I would, with one of your theatre nerd friends”

Virgil then sat up a bit. He looked between the twins with a grin.

“Oh wait, theatre nerds? You wouldn't happen to be the Roman my boyfriend keeps telling me about?”

“Depends, who is he?”

“Patton Corwyn”

“Oh fuck yeah! He's one of my best friends!”

“Then I agree with him, you would love Jay”

Remus grumbled something into his coffee. He sent another glare towards Roman as he set down his cup.

“Roman I know you don't know anything about courtesy, but you are making my friends uncomfortable, could you go do your messy things in your room or something?”

“Wait we aren't-”

“Lucky for you I've got a shift at the cafe in a bit, I just gotta change. Nice meeting you Logan, Virgil, see you later rem”

Roman gave a finger salute before diving into his room. Logan almost felt sad at his departure. He tried to focus back on his coffee and his computer screen but Virgil nudged him and sent him a knowing smirk. He glared at his screen instead.

“Does our bookworm have a crush?”

“Oh please do not have a crush on him he’ll be so cocky and dumb!”

“I, I don't have a crush, shut up, your apartment is just really warm. Shut up!”

He angrily typed away as the other two giggled at his bright cheeks. A door opened and Logan turned to see, and he really shouldn't have turned to see. Roman was wearing black slacks, a red button up shirt and a black half apron. And who said he was allowed to be so attractive? Roman gave him a quick wink before looking over at Remus.

“Is it my night for dinner?”

“Yes”

“K, I’ll text you when my shift is done and get your order. See you later”

“Cool, k, leave! I'm trying to study!”

“Ok ok!”

Logan wasn’t free of the teasing until he finally left.

“Good afternoon! Welcome to Dream Bean! What can I get for you today?”

“Hiya Roman! Strawberry acai with extra whipped cream large please?”

“Ah, Patton, I see your taste remains a slave to the pink drink, it'll be right up!”

“Don't shame me! It's sweet and healthy!”

“And has no caffeine, but I’ll leave it be, promise”

“Oh, and a blueberry muffin!”

“Alrighty! That'll be 7 dollars!”

Roman loved his job. The dream bean coffee shop had higher prices than the local Starbucks, but they had better drinks and food in his humble opinion. The college students in the town were spoiled, they got discounts at the place and most alumni swore by the little shop. It was a staple of the town, and Roman had been coming to it for as long as he can remember. He paid no attention to the fact that both his friends had decided to nestle in a corner of the little shop far longer than they were technically supposed to. That is, until he clocked out, making himself a cafe mocha before popping over to the booth the two had stolen away to. He raised his eyebrow at them as he took a sip of his drink.

“What brings you two here?”

“Can't we just want some of the best coffee in the world?”

“Considering Patton didn't get coffee, and from the looks of it you got a hot chocolate with a shot of espresso, no, no you can't”

“Ok so we wanted to know more about your musical! Sue us!”

“Hmm, how about I tell you about it on a walk, if Patton tells me why he didn't mention that his boyfriend is friends with my brother. And why you didn't introduce me to Logan”

“Deal!”

Patton giggled as he brought his new cup of coffee to his lips. He and Virgil stood and followed Roman out the door.

“I didn't know your brother and Vee were friends! He must be Remus then right?”

“Mhmm. whole family of mythology names, my uncle's name is Romulus”

“Hmm! I haven't actually met him, Virgil doesn't bring his friends over a lot. But why are you more upset about not knowing about Logan?”

“I mean, hes hot as fuck, would’ve liked to talk t him more but I had to leave for work before I could say much more than hello or goodbye. He looks smart. Wouldn't take him for a creative writing guy”

“Oh he's a psych major, he wants to write scientific journals and studies and stuff. There wasn't a minor choice for journalism, so he figured creative writing would fulfill the same things. He's actually really talented, he writes lots of sci-fi and fantasy things, he's a huge nerd, but he's really sweet”

“He blushed at like anything I said, it was adorable. Remus almost killed me”

“Ok as much as I love hearing your tea on guys, I do not care about this near as much as I care about this musical”

Patton and Roman both devolved into a mess of laughter at JJ’s insistence about the musical. Roman pulled out his phone with a grin and gave Jay a sympathetic look.

“Ok, let me text Remus for his dinner order and then I’ll tell you all about it”

Remus just about groaned when he heard keys jingle in the door. He was sprawled across the couch, legs over the top of it and his head and arms draped on the floor. He was even more tempted as he heard more voices mix with his brothers. He shouted across the apartment when the door opened.

“YOU NEED TO STOP EXISTING, LOGAN WOULDN'T STOP THIRSTING OVER YOU THE WHOLE TIME HE WAS HERE!”

“Too bad, he's kinda cute!”

Remus fell off the couch as Roman and his friends walked in. mostly because one of them was hot as balls. He hoped beyond hope that he was the Jay Roman had mentioned from earlier. Jay had a face full of scars on one side of his face, and wore a pastel yellow shirt with a jean vest covered in pins. He also wore a deep yellow beanie. Remus couldn't look away as he stood up again.

“Oh! Uh hello! Roman’s friends!”

The other one smiled brightly, just about as bright as his pastel blue jumper and white suspenders. He held out one hand, the other filled with bags of food. Remus shook his hand.

“Hiya! I'm Patton! And you're the Remus my boyfriend keeps talking about!”

“Hello! That must mean that you are Jay?”

Jay stuttered after actually getting a good look at him. He nodded and smiled back at him.

“You can um, you can call me Janus! If, if you want that is! Um, Roman told us about the musical you two are writing and it's really cool! I uh, I know it's gonna be great!”

Remus grinned, and let out a giggle as Roman leaned on him. Janus hissed at him and swatted at Roman’s arm.

“Be careful not to corrupt this one, he's a baby”

“I AM 19 YEARS OLD YOU MOTHER FUCKER!!!”

“And a freshman. This makes you babey. Regardless, I know you are also a weirdo who loves reptiles, and my brother has a collection that i'm sure he would be delighted to show you”

“repTILES?!”

At that, Janus started bouncing and god, Roman was right, he is babey. Remus grins and nods excitedly as well.

“I can do that! I'd love to show off my babies! But dinner first, I've been begging Roman to let us have Thai food for weeks!”

Taglist: @fivebyfive-finebyfive @tacohippy56900 @analogical-mess @crookedlyoptimisticdestiny @angels-and-dreams @fandomloverangel @booklover223

Let me know if you want to be tagged in my writing!!!

Thank you for reading I will see you later ladies lords and nonbinary royalty!!!

#roman sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #duke remus #remus sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #college au #familial creativitwins #logince #dukeceit #moxiety #tw swearing #tw cursing #tw ocean #my writing #my fanfiction

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missmonsters2 · 6 years ago

Text

Drive Her Crazy || Part V

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, eventual smut. 18+ only.

Note: Welcome to a Tumblr exclusive! PM me if you would like to be added onto the tag list for updates.

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV

DRIVE HER CRAZY SETLIST 🎶

PART V of X

Count: 3354

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

It was incredibly hot out, but you basked in the warmth. You had to head to Wasteland earlier to ensure everything was good to go with the equipment and sound check. You decided to stay and relax with a drink. Wanda, Vision, and Natasha wouldn’t be on the ground until the evening to hear some of the more prominent names play.

Your cell began to vibrate in your pocket.

“Hey, you’re going to be here later, right?” You answer, knowing it who was right away.

“Of course, bitch, I wouldn’t I miss this for anything. Boyfriend is just getting ready, and we’re going to eat first before coming.” David said through the line.

You smile.

“Perfect. I’ll introduce you to Wanda later then. Don’t forget what you promised me.”

You could hear an exasperated sigh on the other side. “How could I forget when you literally text me every day about it. I can’t believe you’re going to use the favor I owe you on her instead of yourself.”

“A favor’s a favor. Besides, I think when you meet her, you’ll forget it’s a favor.”

“Big words you’re talking there.”

“I certainly put the money where my mouth is.” You could tell David was grinning.

“Alright, I’ll see you later. The man is ready to go to eat.” David says, and you bid him goodbye briefly before the line disconnects.

The festival had provided you a tent to rest in behind the stage. You had nearly dozed off when your phone went off again. It was a text message from Wanda.

Hey, we’re here. Where should we meet you?

You quickly text a reply to Wanda and leave the tent. You meet up at one of the drink stations and smile as you approach the three. Vision looks like he’s a little out of place, and you almost feel for him.

Wanda looked amazing with her shorts, blouse, and converse. She had a couple necklaces on and rings on her fingers like she usually did, but the sun was just hitting her the right way. You made sure to not linger on her too long and focused your attention to Natasha who looked good as well.

“You guys made it,” you say as you walk up to them, adjusting your sling bag. over your shoulder.

Wanda comes to embrace you and your pat her back affectionately but signaling her to let go. Once she does, you walk over to Natasha, who also gives you a hug in greeting. When you part, you make sure to slide your hands down her arms intimately. She’s smirking at you while you grin.

Your eyes catch something though, and you frown a little at it. You lift your hand to her ear and lightly brush her hair behind it to get a better look. She’s looking at you intently, and you can feel Wanda’s eyes on your back.

“You don’t have earplugs?” You ask Natasha.

Natasha looked confused for a second. “No? I didn’t know I would need to have them.”

Your finger brushes her lobe lightly, and you bring your hand back to bring your sling bag around to the front of your body. You open it up and pull out a new pair of earplugs still in its packaging.

“Here, take these. Make sure you’re wearing these if you’re close to the stage, I don’t want you to go deaf.” You hand them to her, and Natasha is smiling at you.

“You sure?” She asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, these are my backup pair so no worries.” You turn your head to look over at Wanda who quickly smiles as soon as you’re looking at her. Her hair is tucked behind her ears, and you see she has only one in currently. The other she must be waiting to put in when she’s close to the stage. It wasn’t her first festival, after all.

The first thing you do is buy everyone a drink. Since you’re working later, you don’t drink as much.

“Is it hard to be in this kind of environment without getting drunk?” Natasha asks. You chuckle and tilt your head left and right to indicate ‘kind of.’

“At festivals like this, it’s easier to be in this section as you’re cut off from the general public. Less crowded. When I’m playing gigs at clubs or other venues, I typically only mingle for a bit before or after my set and then leave.”

“How kind of you to stick it out here with the rest of us then,” Natasha teases.

“Have to collect on your promise somehow,” you flirt right back causing Natasha's mouth to quirk upwards.

In the background, Wanda was watching the two of you, holding her drink a little tightly.

“Wanda,” Vision called, but she didn’t even hear it even though he was right in front of her.

“Wanda!” He calls again, and this time she whips her head at him, eyes wide.

“What?” She asks, willing her eyes to not go back to you and Natasha.

God, what was wrong with her today?

Vision gives her a concerned look but doesn’t say anything.

“How long are we staying?” He asks instead. Festivals weren’t really his scene, wasn’t his type of music, or what he could consider fun.

He only went because there was an odd feeling nagging him that he shouldn’t let Wanda go alone.

“I want to stay until it ends,” Wanda tells him, then nodding over to you with her chin. “She doesn’t play until tonight because she’s the opening act.”

Vision immediately frowns. That was a lot longer than he was expecting.

Wanda and Vision begin to bicker a little about how long they were going to stay.

“Vision,” Wanda finally says, a hint of irritation and frustration in her tone. “I’m staying. You can leave whenever you want to, I’m not forcing you to stay. I’m just saying it would be more fun if we’re here together.”

Vision doesn’t say anything back but sighs and nods. Wanda doesn’t really know if that means he’s staying or leaving earlier, but she doesn’t want to argue with him anymore. Lately, he’s been very strange.

Resolved to lift her spirits, she tells everyone they should get closer to the stage and dance. She can’t help but stare at you and Natasha dancing together. You were behind the redhead, pressed up against her, and seemingly saying something in her ear before helping her with her earplugs, and tapping the beat of the music against Natasha’s ribs.

Vision, seemingly trying to make up for bickering with Wanda earlier, grabs Wanda’s hand to twirl her around and pulls her close.

It’s a good couple of hours they’re out there listening to the music and dancing. You’re feeling pretty parched, and everyone follows you out to grab water. You run your fingers through your fringe, running it all the way back to help with the heat.

You’re supposed to be playing soon, so you’ll need to leave to go prep. Everyone is going to walk around until you’re about to play and will then make their way up front to the stage.

Suddenly, your phone is vibrating again. You pull it out see that it’s David who has arrived on the grounds.

“Hey,” you say to everyone. “I have another friend who came to see me play. I’ve been wanting to introduce you to him.”

You lead them in the direction David says he’s at. He’s at another drink station, and you can see him in the distance drinking and laughing with his boyfriend. He spots you in the distance and excitedly waves you over.

You walk over, and he pulls you into a hug. “My god, California is doing you wonders.”

David checks you over, you slap him lightly, and he laughs. His boyfriend stands up and gives you a hug as well.

“How are you, Liam?” You ask him and he tells a short tidbit on how he’s been.

After that, David is looking at the people behind you, and you turn and smile.

“As I told you, David, this Natasha, Wanda, and Vision.” You tell David, and he nods in greeting to them with a smile, keeping his eye on Wanda.

You turn to the three and smile. “This is my friend, D--”

“David King,” Wanda breathes out in awe. You chuckle lightly. David goes to shake everyone’s hand, saving Wanda for last.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m standing with David King right now,” Wanda whispers.

“Who’s David King?” Vision asks with a confused expression. David isn’t offended, but he does turn to you, giving you a look.

“Vis,” Wanda says, almost embarrassedly. “David King is a renowned photographer. All of his works are insanely famous. Anyone he’s worked with blows up. He’s known as the Golden Eye in the industry.”

Vision furrows his brows but nods with a soft, “Oh.”

David is smiling at Wanda, “Sounds like you know your stuff.”

Wanda nods enthusiastically. “Of course! My favorite work of yours is the piece you did in Italy in the countryside. It was so beautiful, it made me feel like a child.”

David raises his eyebrow at Wanda, feeling impressed, and you knew why. Out of all of David’s work, that piece was his least popular because the purpose of it wasn’t to make anyone or anything famous. It just showcased the land and some local people.

But it was special to David because that was his hometown, where he had grown up.

He sighs, looking at you and you smirk. David turns back to Wanda, pulling out his business card and holding it out to her. She takes it, eyes wide.

“I’m still working on a project, but I’ll be done in about 6 weeks. Call this number, and my assistant will make sure you’re booked in. We’ll start collaborating then.” David says, and Wanda is shellshocked. He winks at her before turning over to you.

“You've got a good eye. I’ll catch you later for your set.” David gives you one last hug and walks off with his boyfriend.

Wanda just turns to you. “Oh my god, am I dreaming? How did you do this?”

You just laugh at her, “I didn’t really do anything. David just owes me a favor, but even I can’t force him to work with anyone he doesn’t want to. He agreed to at least meet you and clearly he liked you. That was definitely all you.”

Wanda just squeals, jumping onto you with her legs wrapped around your body. You let out a surprised yelp, immediately having to put your arms around her to keep her from falling as you laugh. Her arms are wrapped around your neck, and she’s peering down on your face.

“You’re seriously too amazing,” she says, and you just roll your eyes teasingly to play it off. You gently set her down, ruffling your hair again, looking at your watch.

“Alright, I gotta head over to prepare for the set. Grab some more drinks and put it under my name. See you at the front.” You turn to Natasha, looking at her ears again and you softly lift your fingers underneath her hair to touch her ear.

“Don’t forget your earplugs,” you tell her softly and she smiles at you and nods. You wiggle your fingers at them and walk off.

Vision turns to Wanda and sighs. “I’m going to go. Don’t stay out too late.”

Wanda frowns at him. “Now? She’s just about to play.”

“I’m quite tired,” Vision says, and Wanda doesn’t say anything even though she’s a little upset, but she doesn’t want to argue with him again. He kisses her forehead and walks off.

With Natasha left, the two girls go grab another drink before heading to the front of the stage.

“She treats you really good,” Natasha comments as they’re walking. Wanda turns her head over to look at Natasha.

“Yeah, I suppose she does.”

“Vision told Tony about how she spent the day with you on Pietro’s anniversary too.”

Wanda narrows her eyes as they’re nearing the front of the stage.

“Yeah, she’s a good friend,” Wanda says, not sure what the problem is.

Natasha nods, smiling at the younger girl. “Yes, a friend. Thanks for introducing her to me.”

The redhead puts her earplugs in as the stage begins to flash. Wanda bites her lip, refraining from grabbing Natasha’s earplugs out and throwing them as far as she could. She wanted to scream that she met you first, you were hers!

Wanda huffed silently. She wasn’t too good at sharing, and you were a really good friend.

Shaking her head, she focused back on the stage. People were cheering around her as you came out with your mask.

The beat drummed along Wanda’s spine, and she closed her eyes, dancing away. A couple songs in, Natasha seemed to get a call and a text. She swore loudly, grabbing your attention.

“Tony has a work emergency, I need to head over immediately. Tell her I’ll call later,” Natasha says, looking at the stage once more before making her way out the crowd.

You were getting into your groove when you saw Natasha look at you, holding her phone up slightly with an apologetic look as she left the crowd. You were a little confused, but you assumed something happened. You look over at Wanda who is just beaming at you.

Smiling at her, you point to her, telling her the next song is for her.

Wanda throws her head back and lets out a laugh you can’t even hear and blows you a playful kiss.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

An hour passes by quick and before you know it, your time is over. You introduce the main act tonight, getting the crowd hyped up before you leave the stage. Backstage, you take off your mask and put your laptop away securely so you can bring it to your car later.

You make your way out into the crowd, finding Wanda in the same spot. She’s still dancing on her own as you come up behind her. When you tap her shoulder, she turns around and smiles widely at you, putting her arms around your neck to pull you into a hug.

“You were amazing!” Wanda yells loudly enough that it makes through your earplugs and the music. She looks a little flushed from the heat and dancing, so you hand her some water you brought along. She looks at you gratefully, taking a huge gulp of water. She gives it back to you, and you put it away in your sling bag, adjusting it back around you.

Some drunk YouTuber is flailing around dancing next to you. He’s nearly knocking into Wanda, so you wrap your arm across her collarbone to her other shoulder, pulling her closer to you and away from this menace. He’s getting too aggressive, and security at the front actually comes up to him, dragging him away from the crowd.

You sigh, rolling your eyes. You’re about to let go, but Wanda puts her hands up and settles them against your arm to keep it there. She leans her head back, resting against your shoulder and gets you both to sway with the music.

You settle your fingers more comfortably on Wanda’s arm just right under her shoulder. Your fingers automatically start tapping along with the beat, and you feel her body vibrate against you as she giggles.

The song changes and the beat starts to pick up much more. The crowd begins to jump with their hands in the air, but Wanda just spins around, facing you so close that your noses are nearly touching.

You’re both jumping to the music, but you can only focus on how you could feel her breath on your lips.

It feels like everything is happening in slow motion as you grab her hips and pull her close to you. You’re biting your tongue to hold the groan that wants to come out of your mouth, and she’s smirking at you.

Wanda closes her eyes, tilting her head back more, exposing her neck to you as she enjoys the music.

God, she was so fucking hot. You’re telling yourself to be patient, but you can’t help it when your lips ghost over her neck and she sighs.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

The two of you stay until the event is over. You’re currently driving her home because apparently, Vision was her ride. Then Natasha was going to drive her home, but she also left. She still seems full of energy as she’s singing along to the radio dramatically and dancing in her seat the best she can.

You’re just smiling as you have one hand on the wheel and the other perched up on the window ledge with your head in it.

“I don’t want to go home yet,” Wanda whines.

You chuckle since it’s 3am, but you humor her.

“Alright,” you tell her, changing the route. You take her back to Manhattan Beach, and since it’s so late, there’s no one but the two of you. Getting out of the car, you guys are walking on the pier, admiring the view.

Taking a seat on the edge, you both let your bare feet swing over the water. Wanda is leaning against you, head on your shoulder as she sighs in contentment.

When she looks up at you, she grins. “What are you thinking about?”

You tilt her head down to look at her, a small smile gracing your lips.

“What I’m going to do next,” you tell her. “I don’t have any more gigs after this.”

Wanda sits up immediately, frowning. “You’re leaving?”

You shrug in response. “I did only come here for work.”

“Didn’t you say if you enjoyed it enough, you would consider moving?” Wanda recalls from the first night you both met.

“Can’t say if I’m enjoying myself enough,” you tell her hauntingly with a smirk. Wanda just laughs and slaps you on the shoulder as you rear back.

“I do actually have some collab offers to work with some local artists around here,” you tell Wanda after a moment, making sure you sound unsure if you were going to take it or not.

“You can’t leave yet,” Wanda tells you seriously. “My birthday is in a month, and I refuse to let you miss my party.”

While you knew her birthday was coming up, you grin at her attempt to make you stay. You had, of course, knew you were going to stay longer. You even already lined up some collabs to keep you busy.

Everything was progressing well, better than you may have even hoped for. You certainly didn’t miss Wanda glaring at Natasha all day, and from the looks of it, things were getting tense between Vision and Wanda.

You licked your lips, lost in thought. There was just something about Wanda that made you want her and keep her. You were entirely invested in seeing her edge.

“Well,” you say, your lips curled upwards. “I suppose I can’t miss your birthday. What a crime that would be.”

Wanda nods satisfyingly, settling back next to you with her head on your shoulder. “It would be. So, what are you getting me?”

She sounds so cheeky you can’t even hold back your laughter. “Aren’t presents supposed to be a surprise?”

You had known her birthday had been coming long before and had started working on it since the trust fund kid’s party. It was coming along together nicely, and you were just waiting for a call.

“Just a little hint?” Wanda negotiates, and you jut your chin out and purse your lips.

“How do you feel about crocs?” You ask, trying to not cackle. Wanda sits back up, narrowing her eyes at you.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Ask again about your present and I just might,” You warn her, eyes twinkling.

Wanda’s jaw drops, and then she shakes her head, “And you call me wicked.”

The corner of your lip quirks up.

“You have no idea.”

PART VI

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myrecordcollections · 4 years ago

Photo

Tu-Do Hospitals

Patients Of.....

@ 1986 W Germany Pressing

*****

1986 - the first TRUST (The Punk Magazine In W Germany) appears. The German hardcore scene is still in its infancy. Some of you will remember vividly and not be able to suppress a few sentimental tears, for others the seriousness of life had not even begun.

One of the better known bands back then was TU DO HOSPITAL. In the first TRUST there was some kind of report about that. 15 years later I ask Winni, who was then singing at TU DO HOSPITAL, about his memories of then and what his life looks like now….

***

Hi, first introduce yourself, what's your name? how old are you? What are you doing?

Winni: Hi - I'm Winni, on this planet for 34 years, currently in San Francisco, California, where I work as a graphic designer.

Winni, you used to sing at TU DO HOSPITAL. in the first TRUST there was a report about you and 2 concerts that you played in leutkirch and linz. that was 15 years ago. what memories do you still associate with the band and the “scene” in germany back then?

Winni: I found the scene very exciting at the time. The whole punk rock history seemed to be changing and a lot of new people came into the scene who were very active and redefined punk rock.

I think a lot of kids came along who were very influenced by the US hardcore scene and that brought new momentum to the movement. Suddenly you saw a lot of new people at the concerts who didn't care how “punk” they looked or whether they were laughed at when they went around with their skateboards.

This may all be a very personal experience, but around the mid-80s there was suddenly a lot going on. Many new bands & zines started, more concerts were organized and all of a sudden there was a network across Germany and other countries that made it possible for bands like ours to play everywhere.

At concerts you often met the same people who were very active, whether it was a cow village in Holland or Kreuzberg - at that time you traveled huge distances to see bands and a lot of people in bands were also involved in organizing concerts and wrote for zines. I think to myself that that has not necessarily changed today, only the “scene” is probably much bigger and more professional today compared to back then.

To stay a bit in the past: TU DO HOSPITAL was a band with very personal lyrics that were probably written by you. “You think you know me, but that's not true. you see my clothes and hear what i say, but what i feel is hidden inside me from you. my thoughts change very often, because i'm learning new things every day, but you have this picture of me and you think i'm still like that ”(from“ wrong image ”). what do you think of your old texts today? and to stick with the wrong image, what kind of person is winni wintermeier today?

Winni: I haven't looked back at the old lyrics for a long time and can no longer find the old record to read it all over again. I can still remember a few fragments and I think that many of the things I wrote back then seem a little naive today. On the other hand, much of it is still valid today and some thoughts have not necessarily changed. I can't even describe in a few words what kind of person I am today.

I could try to describe my personality, but it will probably sound like some sappy personal ad. Who I am and what I do in this world is a question that I continue to research with great interest and which may never be able to answer. This is partly reflected in the old texts.

In retrospect, what significance did the band have in your life? why and how did you break up?

Winni: At that time the band was already an important part of my life. As a result, I have had relevant experiences and met many people who have also shaped my life. We broke up because of musical and personal differences without much drama. We just got to a point where it wouldn't have been easy to continue as a band.

And does it still matter today? are you still in contact with your bandmates? do you even have contact with anyone “from the past”?

Winni: It hasn't lost its meaning, but looking back it was just one of the many important experiences I've had in my life. I lost contact with my old colleagues, but recently a friend sent me a CD from the Carnival of Souls, the band from Achim, the old guitarist.

You now live in san francisco and run the one-man company 3AM (www.3am.net). how did your move come about?

Winni: Boredom drove me to San Francisco in 1992. I had studied photography in Germany for two years and that didn't really help me. I just couldn't imagine going through this for 2-3 years. I had visited San Francisco several times and had become a kind of second home.

I knew a lot of people who do interesting things and there was a lot going on in terms of culture. For me it was very inspiring to take the big leap to concentrate on the things that interest me (music, photography, design, art, etc ...)

Do you see a connection between the punk / hardcore ideals that you also promoted in your texts for TU DO HOSPITAL and what you are doing now? “It's ok if you don't like our music because we don't play what you want to hear. if you don't like the things we sing about, listen and try to understand us. I don't mind if you don't like our music. we put our energy into it and like to play it ”(from“ our music ”)“ i feel young and strong, full of energy. I know how to use my strength, I won't hide it. i live to be creative and not to waste my time. I know there is an end, but I'm not afraid of dying. "(from" 1-2-tu-do ")

Winni: Partly yes, I'm a little “punk rock damaged”. I still have many ideals from earlier times that are reflected in my work. With “3 am” I work on a lot of record covers for various small indie / punk rock labels or just for friends for little money.

These are often projects that are very non-commercial and where no one earns anything materially. On the other hand, I also do a lot of things for bands that call themselves punk, but are basically nothing more than any other rock band that want to be popular and successful.

I often have to make compromises so that I can pay my rent. To get to the quotes - I sometimes wish I had the same energy again that I had at the young age of 18 - my body can no longer keep up with what I plan to do in my head, ha, Ha.

With 3AM you do some graphics / layout things for various punk / hardcore things. how did this collaboration come about?

Winni: A friend of mine was working at a small punk label that had just released two records and needed a graphic designer for their new projects. Back then I had designed a couple of CD covers in Germany that I showed them and all of a sudden I got a lot of work.

The label (Fat Wreck Chords) then grew quite quickly and other labels (Hopeless, Side 1, etc ...) saw my stuff and suddenly it became my full-time job. It was quite hectic because I had to teach myself everything and I had hardly any idea how to use a computer.

Can you live on 3AM?

Winni: So far I've been able to make ends meet, but right now I have to look around a little for new work. The budget for a lot of record covers is quite small and for the last two years I have often helped out with a hi-tech magazine that paid me quite well, but they are just going down the drain.

San Francisco has become very expensive and the new internet economy has almost completely destroyed the city, which has made it very difficult for many people to survive here. At the moment I would like to concentrate more on my photography, because I don't feel like sitting in front of the computer all the time.

Do you actually see your work as political? do you try to make certain statements in what you do? or is that more "art for art`s sake"?

Winni: My graphic arts less, although I often work for bands that are politically oriented in their lyrics. Some of my photos are more political because I am interested in documenting the influence people have on their environment. That suggests more in the direction of photojournalism and as an artist I wouldn't necessarily describe myself because this term is not important to me.

I think that with 3am I will try to create a free space in which I can work for people who have similar points of view and who work outside the big system and that is politically motivated.

what motivates you these days?

Winni: The urge to explore life. I find inspiration for this everywhere, whether it's music, art, literature or the old man sitting around the corner in my café.

What will you do if we repeat this interview in 15 years?

Winni: I don't know - I still haven't decided on a big plan for the future. I'll be able to tell you that in 15 years.

Thanks for your answers!

#Tu-Do Hospitals #Patients Of ..#San Franciso #Punk #Winni #TRUST Magazine

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nazaninlankarani · 4 years ago

Text

Métiers d’Art Specialists Worry About the Future

With Swiss watch sales down, there are fewer calls for techniques like enameling and marquetry.

The master engraver Eddy Jaquet produced a series of eight one-of-a-kind watches for MB&F, each inspired by a Jules Verne novel. This watch is “From the Earth to the Moon.”

When Anita Porchet started out as an independent enameler in 1992, her specialty had all but disappeared from watchmaking, a near casualty of what the industry still calls the quartz crisis of the 1970s. As the popularity of inexpensive quartz watches pushed many Swiss watch brands near bankruptcy, it also undermined some of the traditional crafts tied to the industry

Three decades later, because of her talent and perseverance, Ms. Porchet has become one of the world’s premier enamelers, with more orders, she said, than she can fill. But facing the pandemic, she sees the profession once again at a tipping point — and unsure of its survival.

“Orders are being canceled or pushed back to next year or later,” Ms. Porchet said in a phone interview from her home in Corcelles-le-Jorat, Switzerland, in the canton of Vaud.

“My clients are all in a wait-and-see mode,” she said. “The impact of one or two order cancellations can be enormous on small workshops because they cannot hang on for very long without work.”

Ms. Porchet works from home aided by two assistants, a common arrangement for artisans who practice the traditional crafts commonly known as métiers d’art: enameling, marquetry, feather work, metal engraving and the like.

“I cannot afford an apprentice,” said Rose Saneuil, a French marquetry specialist based in Montrouge, a suburb of Paris. “It is hard enough making a living on my own from this type of work.”

Since Switzerland first went into lockdown in mid-March, global demand for high-end watches has collapsed. Nearly all the 2020 watch fairs, where so much of the industry’s business is done, were canceled, with some shifting to a virtual format because of global travel restrictions. And many distribution outlets around the world remain closed.

Swiss watch exports have plunged, down some 30 percent this year compared with last year, as reported in September by the Federation of the Swiss Watch Industry. Some watch brands are already laying off workers. In September, Ulysse Nardin and Girard Perregaux announced they were cutting about a quarter of their combined work force — around 100 jobs at the Kering Watches Manufacture. And more layoffs expected industrywide by year’s end.

“Many artisans are without work because brands cannot sell their watches,” Ms. Porchet said.

Decorative techniques in watchmaking date back centuries, but demand for métiers d’art watches has only seen a resurgence since 2000 — fueled, according to Ms. Porchet, mostly by Asian buyers who have a cultural appreciation for the work. Brands such as Vacheron Constantin, Piaget, Ulysse Nardin, Hermès and Chanel, among others, have greatly contributed to the revival by developing exceptional craftsmanship in-house or by hiring independent artisans.

The Sparkling Blast by the watchmaker Ulysse Nardin, which is set with diamonds cut to look like shards of glass.

This year, as in the past, those brands presented a panoply of métiers d’art watches. Ulysse Nardin showed the Sparkling Blast watch set with diamonds cut geometrically to look like shards of glass. Vacheron Constantin unveiled in January a collection with enameled dials for the Lunar New Year.

Chanel’s Mademoiselle Privé Bouton line featured a Camée model, a secret watch with a profile of Coco Chanel hand-carved in agate on the dial cover. Piaget presented an array of métiers d’art timepieces, among them the Ecstatic Dance with a dial in a delicate marquetry of straw, mother-of-pearl, leather, parchment and wood, crafted by Ms. Saneuil.

“The orders I worked on during the lockdown were placed over a year ago,” Ms. Saneuil said. “I finished three dials for Piaget earlier this year. I am trying not to worry yet, but orders have slowed down.”

Several of the most sought-after craftspeople said that, in addition to fewer orders, they were seeing brands shifting from multipiece collections to very small collections or even just one-of-a-kind pieces — but requiring even more exceptional work.

“Our clients are now focusing exclusively on bespoke pieces and truly extraordinary product,” said Dick Steenman, a Geneva-based craftsman who works regularly for brands like Chanel, Chaumet and Van Cleef & Arpels. “I think we are going to see an end to semi-industrial series in métiers d’art, and that is going to hurt many workshops with lesser qualifications,” Mr. Steenman said.

One of the watches in the Pegasus collection of Van’T Hoff.

In recent years Mr. Steenman, who also creates one-off timepieces under his own label, Van’T Hoff, reduced his staff by half — from 12 to six, retaining only highly skilled workers to create a niche specialty in engraving and miniature sculpture.

Also, he said, “a few clients are also asking for help in research and development, to come up with fresh ideas and innovative techniques.”

“Today, there is still demand for exceptional pieces,” Mr. Steenman said, “but buyers also want to know which artisan worked on their watch. They want to meet the craftsman, and learn how the watch was made. It is part of the ‘special services’ that high-end clients expect.”

Like Mr. Steenman, Ms. Porchet is focusing on more sophisticated and often more complex projects. She recently completed an enameled case back for a pocket watch that a brand (which she declined to identify) had ordered for a private client, and a small series of enameled dials for the Arceau Aaaaargh! wristwatch, commissioned by Hermès. “Wealthy collectors will always buy unique or custom-made pieces, even in periods of crisis,” Ms. Porchet said.

The independent brand MB&F also has ventured into métiers d’art in a rare collaboration with a master engraver, Eddy Jaquet, on a series of eight one-of-a kind Legacy Machine watches. Each of the LM Split Escapement x Eddy Jaquet, introduced in September, was inspired by a different Jules Verne novel.

“During uncertain times, people still buy intrinsically valuable products,” said Charris Yadigaroglou, head of communication for MB&F from Geneva.

“Eddy has been engraving inscriptions for us for 10 years,” Mr. Yadigaroglou said. “Three years ago, we noticed that he had very little work despite his immense talent. So we asked him to design and engrave the dials for this series.”

MB&F said all eight watches — each priced at 148,000 Swiss francs ($161,900) — were presold on Zoom calls with retailers, even before Mr. Jaquet had completed the last three dials.

“I am grateful for this project because, without it, I would not have much work the rest of this year,” Mr. Jaquet said from his atelier in Neuchâtel, Switzerland. “I go from being overly busy to being under-worked very quickly.”

And at least one entrepreneur has seized on the moment as an opportunity.

The XRby Rose Saneuil has a quetzal in a marquetry of wood and leather on its dial. “I am trying not to worry yet, but orders have slowed down,”Ms. Saneuil, a French marquetry specialist, said.

Last month Xavier Rousset, a former dial maker, introduced XRby, a new brand that plans to produce métiers d’art mechanical watches in collaboration with a single artisan, but only after payment is made. Prospective buyers will be able to view high-definition computer-generated renditions of a proposed watch design on the XR website, and then place orders.

“The watch industry is at a turning point today,” Mr. Rousset said from Besançon, a small town near the Swiss border that is known as France’s watch capital. “The current crisis and competition from connected watches will kill off much of the quartz watch industry. But there will always be demand for mechanical watches with beautiful, decorative workmanship.”

His first model, the XRby Rose Saneuil, features a brightly colored quetzal in a marquetry of wood and leather on its dial. It is priced at 33,000 euros, or $38,670.

“These are know-hows that people care about and must be preserved,” Mr. Rousset said. “We are doing just that by putting the craftsman back at the heart of watchmaking.”

[Source]

#nazanin lankarani #watch

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alj4890 · 6 years ago

Text

Love Prompt

(Thomas x Amanda) with the prompt, "I'm pregnant." As requested by @krsnlove

(Thomas Hunt x oc*Amanda) taken from the storyline And Then I Met You.

A/N I just spent three days immersed in Austin's RTX. This experience inspired this requested prompt for this pair.

@alleksa16 @penguininapinktuxedo @blackcoffee85 @stopforamoment @hopefulmoonobject @krsnlove @littleblossom357 @annekebbphotography @gibbles82 @cora-nova @bella-ca @hopelessromantic1352 . @sunflowergirl05 @desiree-0816 @greywitchyshots @lilyofchoices @emceesynonymroll @pixieferry

Masterlist

Autograph

"Why do I need to be here?" Thomas stared out at the San Diego skyline.

"Because you directed a superhero movie." Amanda explained for the thirteenth time. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "This is what happens when you deliver a film that critics are claiming brings a nuance to the genre that hasn't been seen before."

"A comic con." Thomas shuddered. "This is meant for directors like Tommy I use explosions to cover up a lack of plot Phelps."

Amanda snorted behind him and pressed her forehead against his shoulder. "Thomas, you shouldn't say that!"

"I beg to differ." He turned around and hugged her closer to him. His lips captured hers in a long kiss. "What is my schedule for this sacrificial ceremony?"

She shook with silent laughter as she searched for Holly's event planner. "Here it is." She scanned it and grimaced. "Tomorrow morning is meeting the press for interviews, followed by a meet and greet with fans, and finishing up with a panel in Hall H."

Thomas leaned against the door frame and glared at the paper in her hand. "How long with each?" His eyes widened when she bit her lip. "Amanda? How long do I spend doing this?"

"It starts at five in the morning with the press and ends at seven in the evening." She jumped when he yanked the paper out of her hands and balled it up. He threw it in the trash while walking into the bedroom.

"Thomas!" She fished it out, smoothing it on the table. "It won't be that bad."

"One of the many things I love about you is your ability to try and make horrendous activities seem easy to endure. In this instance though, listening to people nitpick my choices with the storyline will not go well." He groaned as he laid down across the bed on his stomach. His sound turned to one of pleasure when he felt his wife's hands begin to massage his shoulders and back.

He closed his eyes and enjoyed the quiet peacefulness she seemed to bring him. His tense muscles began to ease under her tender ministrations. After four years of marriage, he was still in amazement that she always knew what he needed when frustrated. Sometimes it was her humor. Perhaps a burst of her righteous anger on his behalf. Other times it was a kiss. At this particular moment, he would never have known how much he needed her silent support and touch.

She sighed softly and scooted back against the pillows. Her lips curved when he followed her and repositioned beside her. He wrapped an arm around her and released a deep breath. "I suppose it won't be the worst thing I have ever had to endure."

Amanda curled up against his side and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. "I believe you will be pleasantly surprised tomorrow."

__________________

"What do you mean you don't know where my wife is?" Thomas towered over the younger man that had been put in charge of his security at the convention. Anger was building at an alarming pace along with his panic. "Are you telling me that you lost her in this madhouse?"

"Mr. Hunt, sir, your wife was overheard talking on the phone about meeting someone. As we walked through the convention with her, we realized she had slipped away when our attention was drawn to an altercation between two guests in a heated argument. If she hadn't wandered off, we--" he paled as Thomas stepped closer.

"Are you actually blaming my wife for your incompetence?!"

"No!" He squeaked. The security guard cleared his throat while stepping back.

Thomas knew deep down that this was part of his wife's personality quirks. Whenever she was in a new place, she had a tendency to silently be drawn toward something that captured her interest. He usually followed her or was dragged behind if they were holding hands. There were a few times he had lost her himself. He should have ended the interviews earlier so he could walk with her here. The entire place bombarded the senses at every turn.

He tried to call her once more. He could hear the volume of the crowd out there and knew that it had to be the reason why she wasn't answering. If anything happened to her...

"Hello?" She said after the third ring.

"Amanda! Where are you?" He yelled.

"I can barely hear you!" She yelled back.

"WHERE ARE YOU?" He roared, causing everyone in the room to cringe and move back.

"I am in line! I thought I could get an autograph and all beforehand. I--" Thomas heard a man close by speaking. "Really? This is your tenth year? How exciting! I wish I had--"

"Amanda, find a security officer this minute! He or she will bring you here." Thomas demanded.

"I will just as soon as I get his autograph! This latest production has surprised me and I have always wanted to meet him. I love his work so much. I will come directly there once I--"

"Someone is going to recognize you." Thomas reminded her. The thought of her being caught in a crowd of frenzied fans made his worry escalate. "I think--"

"OH! I think it's starting! I will be there soon. Love you!" She ended the call.

Thomas yelled out her name to stop her and nearly threw his phone against the wall. He rounded on the security team. "Go to the last place you remember seeing her. Somewhere around there, she is in line to meet some director, screenwriter, or actor. Bring her here now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, of course." The guard fumbled with his walkie talkie, dropped it twice, and quickly scurried out of the room.

Thomas tried to fight it, but the spurt of jealousy he felt when Amanda excitedly told him she had to get an autograph caused his stomach to churn. Who was the man who's work she held in such admiration? Why didn't she simply have me introduce her to him? Does she think this man's films are better than mine? What if she...found him attractive or fascinating?

He squared his shoulders while his frown darkened. He stepped out to a thunderous applause and screams. Thomas nodded his head briefly in thanks before sitting behind a table. He glanced up at a middle aged man, dressed in a ridiculous mix of heroes costume, that was the beginning of the line to meet him. He impatiently waved him over with a flick of his wrist.

He listened with barely a word said as the man gushed over Thomas choosing his favorite hero to film. In the midst of the fan continuing to point out what aspects he hoped to see in today's sneak peek, Thomas scanned the crowd for his wife. Who the devil was she standing in line for?

Thomas autographed the fan's poster then posed for a picture. He thanked him for his support and motioned for the next person to approach. His frown remained as he met fan after fan. After close to an hour of this, he stopped looking at those in line and continued to search the crowd pausing to watch him interact.

"Mr. Hunt?"

His eyes snapped to Amanda's when he heard her voice. He slowly smiled when he saw her standing before him. Her cheeks turned a bright shade of pink as she held out her hand. "I know everyone says this, but I am your biggest fan."

Those that watched him smile even more realized who she was. He heard the murmurs and even heard a man curse and say that he couldn't believe he had given tips to Hunt's wife on how she should act when meeting the director.

"Would you mind autographing a picture from your latest production?" Amanda asked, smiling when he pressed a kiss to her hand.

Thomas noticed the piece of cardstock she held and lifted his hand to take it. She pulled it out of reach while her smile held a hint of humor. "I didn't know your most recent project was a collaboration."

Thomas lifted an eyebrow. "Collaboration? I didn't collaborate with anyone on this last film."

Amanda placed the cardstock down on the table and slid it over to him, "I believe this proves otherwise."

He looked down and dropped the Sharpie pen. His eyes touched on the ultrasound photograph labeled, Baby Hunt, and the due date listed as a little over six months from now. His fingers carefully brushed over the image before he raised his eyes back up.

Amanda's smile was filled with joy while her hands clasped over her barely noticeable belly. "I'm pregnant."

Thomas knocked his chair over in his haste to move around the table. The crowd began to snap pictures, unsure what was going on. He pulled her into his arms and passionately kissed her, completely ignoring the flashes and people yelling. She teared up when he gently touched her stomach, whispered in her ear how much he loved her, and kissed her once more.

Everyone tried to overhear what was being said. Some at the con claimed he said he hoped it was a little girl just like her. Others swore she wanted a son exactly like him. Finally, those standing closest to the front said that all the couple did was marvel at the fact that within half a year they would meet their most important collaboration to date.

#choices thomas hunt #playchoices #thomas hunt rcd #thomas hunt x oc #thomas hunt x amanda #thomas hunt #red carpet diaries fanfiction #choices red carpet diaries #red carpet diaries #rcd thomas hunt

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itsbangtangang · 5 years ago

Text

Yes, Sir

Paring < BTS Jimin x Reader

Genre < CEO au | Fluff| Angst (a little bit) | Smut

Words < 5,321

Warning < Mature themes. I don’t know how to classify them. Fingering. Oral. PWP. Dirty talk. Future divorce. A lot of curssing.

Summary < You had a crush on Jimin back in highschool, but you didn’t see each other after that, until you met him again in your work. Little did you know he was the future CEO of that company, getting divorced out of a toxic relationship, and eager to have you in his life.

Chapter 1 ¯

"ARE YOU READY?" Your roommate said, seeing that you were still looking in the mirror hoping your makeup would not look refilled and that would cause you to be rejected immediately.

Today's morning had started a little busy since you were getting ready and taking everything you need to take your trip to your first job interview after finishing the bachelor's degree in Industrial Engineering. However, you wanted to continue studying until reaching the rank of masters in that career.

The company that had agreed to interview you was the famous Genius Park S.A, one of the best companies best known for creating hybrid cars that use solar energy during daylight hours, taking advantage of the best ultraviolet rays that the sun discharges and storing them as Rechargeable energy to be able to be used at night and when it runs out the fuel starts to be used.

An engineer's mind is always full of ideas, and that is what you think goes through your head every time you hear something new about these innovative companies. Your dream was to be able to innovate materials and products that are not friendly to the environment and change the attitude and thoughts of people regarding the protection of the planet.

“I already am, calm down, I think everything is fine. I'm going out.” You responded without facing her since you could not delay with the schedule assigned to you.

“I will never know how it is that even with the simplest thing you use, you can look so pretty,” said Issabela, pouting, looking at your shape from head to toe as you walk to the front door of the apartment.

"Pfff, don't overdo it, I’m not that good," you laughed and threw a flying kiss before closing the door and heading towards the place of the interview.

"Good morning miss, I'm Y/N/LN, and I come to my interview appointment." You told the girl who was waiting by the building's reception. A little dazed because you were getting nervous not to say the correct words and ruin everything.

“Good morning, Miss Y/N. You arrived earlier than expected, that means you have a lot of interest in being the chosen one, please follow me to the elevator”. The girl said with a big bright smile on her delicate face. Seeing it made you lower your heart rate a bit.

While you were walking towards the elevator area, you watched the corridors below, the elegance in the contrast of colors between the walls and the ceramics of the floor, all looking dated, but at the same time it seemed that the company had changed from having an older, boring president, to have a somewhat younger president, sometimes funny and that he would like bright colors and transparent walls. "Ha-ha, that’s crazy" you said in your mind, thinking that it would not be possible for a company as serious as this could do such a thing.

“In the last door on the left is the waiting hall for the interns who will be interviewed, please take a number and wait for your turn. By the way, good outfit, you look pretty. My name is Payton and it's nice to have met you today”. And with a smile much bigger than the previous one, she apologized and said she should return to her job.

The girl had been too good to you, maybe that meant you would have better luck, or at least, that's what you think about the actions that just happened. But, yes, you marched down the hall and take the corresponding file.

When you passed the curve of the hall, you noticed that there were at least 10 more people waiting to be interviewed. Everyone seemed to be different, you couldn't help smiling to see the black boy throwing you a warm smile. You took a seat, and made small comments along with the others to prevent your nerves from consuming you and eventually causing you to forget all the information you had collected.

"Number 29, it's your turn ... ¡good luck!" Said the blond girl, very pretty and with clear eyes, when she left the main office of the president, and you were already on the way.

You knocked on the door twice for approval. When you heard it was available to receive you, you pushed the door and entered carefully not to blow your heels too much on the fine porcelain pottery that seemed to have been personally designed.

"Good morning, Mr. President, my name is Y/-". Your sentence being interrupted by yourself, but clearly there is something else after that interruption.

You could not believe what your eyes were seeing. And at that moment, school flashbacks began to occur through your head.

You can say that your parents were financially well, since they sent you and your older brother to a private school and college, privileged to be the best in the area. Clearly your parents always wanted the best for you and did the impossible to lead you both a complete education and a better life in the future.

You never complained, since you knew it was the best for you and you had already planned the dreams that you wanted to form and realize in the future. Hence your notion of engineering.

Your school years were never bad, just with a bit of bullying, but they always ended with apologies, laughs and falls among everyone. But the arrival of the school was totally different. As you know, the body changes a little over time, and interests too. Let's say that after having reached second grade, you were starting to date friends, and that meant going out and meeting other boys as well. But none of that was a problem until you met a certain boy.

You would have considered him as a friend, but he was the cause of all the disasters that began to occur from the ninth grade. Park Jimin was the cause of the loss of your self-esteem, your failure in love, and clearly the reason why you didn't trust easily when someone declared their love for you.

It is a great sad story that you would not like to remember anymore, much less in the job interview that you have sought so much to be able to finish your studies independently.

"Good morning miss, take a seat." Jimin said, with an obviously smirk on his face, watching you up and down.

Maybe he remembers you, maybe not. ¿Who knows? You decided to ignore the thoughts that were beginning to invade your mind and proceed with the long-awaited interview.

“Do you want to start by telling me what attracts you to the company, why did you choose this company and your vision for the future as a Park Genius S.A worker.” Jimin said, trying not to sound too arrogant or too insecure about the intentions you may have behind that pretty face.

"Ah-. Well, I would not like to seem selfish, but my sole was always to want to be on the side of innovation and that it is connected with nature and make projects that can be interpreted in both ways and can change the world’s view according technology get moving. As for the company, I see that it is a place focused on innovation and change, and I would love to be part of such a big team of people who share the same feeling as I mine.” You said, excited and proud of your response, of your ingenious imagination that runs through these moments in the deepest of your thoughts.

“You clearly have a good concept of technology, what it entails, and about the company. You really have a heart of gold, Miss Y/N”

Hold up… ¿ he remembers you? Oh no, oh no, oh no.

“I- do you think so?”. Almost trembling, you were already losing your composure. ¿After so many years does Jimin remember you? Wow

“I don't just think about it, I believe it. But tell me one thing, Miss Y/N, what job do you think you are going to get here?”. And with a penetrating look, you were sure he could see through you. He could feel how nervous you were. Feel that you still remember him.

"W-well... I-i really think that, my degree is top notch, but I struggled to finish it and learn more than I expected on how to be an engineer and what an engineer must face." Unsure of how to handle the situation, you felt that your chances of entering your desired company, was disappearing more and more.

“Do you really think that way? Do you really think you should be an engineer of the Top1 company in sales of hybrid cars worldwide?”. His look was really scary, but you know that these questions are strategies of entrepreneurs to test the reflections of their future collaborators.

Fear ran through your veins, but you couldn't falter. Not now. Not with him.

“I think you are the one who should think about whether this company is really qualified to hire third world people. People who have a thought outside the beyond. Someone who really wants to make the change, Mr. Park”

Jimin was surprised, shocked at the transparency of your answers. You had a vision for the future that had the company and that you really wanted to work in that place, but he decided to take advantage of the situation and play for a while. He hadn’t seen you in years, and, to tell you the truth, you never knew, who knows if you were foolish or because you really are that naïve, but for Jimin you were amazing. You were his childhood crush. In fact, even though you met Jimin in the third year of school, he already knew you even though he is two years older. You were the genius girl at school; "The crazy math girl.". For Jimin that was admirable, of course, he saw that you were a girl who knew how to separate things from the street with those of the school, and that didn't affect your grades.

Perhaps you would not have seemed so unattainable if it weren't because you were too disinterested. You rejected any boy who tried to flirt with you. True, you had a boyfriend once in a while, but that doesn't mean you weren’t a serious person at the time ... and maybe you still are.

"Very well, Miss Y/N, I hope I can communicate better with you in the future." Jimin said along with an almost warm smile. Almost... ¿Why? "But Imma tell you one thing ... I don't guarantee you a permanent job here?"

Wow. Just what was missing. Your stupid childhood crush appearing at the best stage of your life just to tear it apart. Well, thank you, fucked up cruel world son of a bi—

“Miss Y/N, ¿ are you good? Oh no… ¿Are you having an existential crisis? Wow That was faster than I expected ha-ha ”

And with a forced smile you got up from the comfortable chair and said, "No, Mr. Park, I only think about the other options I have if I don't enter this place. With your permission." You turned and headed for the office exit door.

But what a silly, silly, silly idea was to say that, you totally lost your dignity with having said that you had more companies in mind. Ush

When you walked to the door, Jimin couldn't believe what his eyes were seeing. It is true that during adolescence you had a slender and exceptional body, but now you abuse yourself. Your curves are now more delineated, your breasts were always in good shape, but now they are rounder and maybe a little bigger. And your ass. Round. Big. Juicy. Ufff.

Jimin felt something throbbing, and it wasn't his heart. Well…yes, but apart from his heart, there was something uncontrollably throbbing with only five seconds of seeing tremendous beast.

And at that moment, Jimin knew he needed a break and go fix his little problem.

“Ugh, but what an exhaustive day. Awesome". You said while you belly fell in the armchair of your house.

"So... will your childhood little love become your boss now?" Issabela knew about your story since the second year of classes you shared. To your dissatisfaction, she already knew who Park Jimin was.

“First of all, he was never my “love”, just my crush. Second, I'm still not sure I got to work in that place. Everything was super pathetic from the moment I stepped on that beautiful porcelain floor that huge office was bringing”. You said, showing tiredness and stress in your voice.

"So what? You know Jimin always liked challenges. Maybe it didn't go so bad. Be positive girl.” Ash, Issa always trying to cheer you up. You are fortunate to have found someone like her.

“With all that positivism we could have already arrived in Arab Emirates in a private jet with three stops, drinking champagne at the best hotel in Dubai for a full week. But okay, all cool, now let me sleep, early tomorrow I go and print my Curriculum 5 more times.” Changing into the most comfortable clothes in your closet, because seriously, this was a day of terror.

“Okay, okay, I'll go with you tomorrow. I don't want you to pass out after having walked all over the city ha-ha.” And with that, Issa and you went to your respective bedrooms trying to sleep. Clearly, you both knew that you would continue to exchange memes.

Fuck. You really hated today. It was a mess. Fucking Park Jimin, he had to appear right at this moment, you wished the earth swallowed you completely with all your clothes and your baby Issa and spit you both in front of two sugar daddies who consented you forever and ever. UGH

Just when you threw your cell phone at the other side of your bed, tired of continuing to think about what other companies to look for work, memes, job offers, memes, how much money to spend on copies, buses, and the taxi you will need after all that day, you get a call...

"Hello! ¿Miss T / N” A sweet voice rang across the line ...

“Yes I am. Tell me what can I offer to you”. A little indignant with the call time, but you wanted to know what it was like.

“I'm Ashley, I was calling to let you know that as of tomorrow you start working at Park Genius S.A. ¡Congratulations on your new job, miss!” Wow, Ashley sounded very excited that you got the job. Either she is a very good actress, or she is really a person with a heart of gold.

"Oh... W-wow, this is... awesome, ha-ha. Em... ¿could I know what job I have qualified for?” Curious of the response, you waited.

"Well, Mr. Park told me that ... you will be an intern for now, and ... you will work as his personal assistant."

"What a f-?... his PERSONAL ASSISTANT?" Shocked, indignant, fucked up!!!!

“Ouch… ha-ha, yes, miss. I hope to see you tomorrow here in the building at 8:00 a.m. Have a good night, and excuse the time lol”. And with that, the call ended.

WHAT IN THE FUCKERY... THIS CANNOT BE HAPPENING TO ME.

The next day, Issabela woke up surprised to see that you were already awake, with an outfit similar to the previous day, and said “hey, ¿where are you going so formal and so beautiful? I remind you that to leave your Curriculum you should not go so formal and ... you will overshadow me by going so pretty”

You chuckled knowing that behind you she was pouting again. “Thanks for the comment, you always cheer me up”,

“Issa, yesterday they called me, and they said that I managed to get to work with them”.

"WHAT? This is amazing, I told you that you should be positive.” Issabela looked so cute jumping behind you and back hugging you carefully so as not to ruin your super outfit.

"It's not what you think though... I'm an intern, and I'm going to be his personal assistant." And with that, Issa and you had a long conversation on the way to the company.

Issa was afraid that you would return home after hitting Jimin for not taking your college degree seriously.

Issa left you at the door of the building, and made you swear that you wouldn't do anything to Jimin because he is now your boss and you need the job.

Walking towards the elevator, you noticed that there was someone waiting next to it... it was Ashley.

"Good morning Miss Y/N, it is a pleasure to see you as one more colleague within the company." Ashley's expression was super friendly. You really liked having her as a work colleague. Maybe you didn't turn down the job because she liked you too much to be true.

“Hello Miss Ashley. I am also happy to be co-workers.” You returned her smile and she guided you to your assigned position.

Jimin works on the third floor of the building, but when the elevator stopped on the second floor, a ball of boys headed inside the elevator. They apologized and said they were going to the top floor, so they made it to the bottom of the elevator, giving space in front of the elevator for both of you.

You felt looks behind you, but you decided to put them aside and focus on the following information Ashley was giving you about the schedule of the famous CEO Park Jimin.

“Well, as I was saying, you are Mr. Park's personal assistant, so you were assigned a position as close to his office. In a moment the president will send a voicemail through this cell phone to match his schedules. Have a nice day on your first day at work as a Park Genius S.A collaborator.” And with that, you only remained to fix your belongings in the allocated space.

And said and done. Jimin sent a voice note suggesting you go to the office.

What you didn't know, was that Jimin wasn't being cautious with his movements. He was supposed to play with you a little bit, or reestablish a friendlier relationship than before, before he had to put you in your original job.

The moment you opened the door, Jimin's eyes went to you. "And here we go again," he said to himself when the skirt you were wearing today was 5cms shorter than the previous day, just as tight, but today there was something that made you look more palatable. Jimin's head was filled with wicked thoughts until he heard a slight tone coming from you, and that's when he is aware of his other situation.

“O-oh… true. Emm… yes, take a seat, we need to talk.” He said, a little shaky, to tell the truth.

You noticed that he was acting a little weird, but you decided to go to what you were going, and hoping that from this day on, the work days will end quickly. Or at least until you find another job.

"President, I have been informed that I have to reestablish your schedule and verify that all the programs of the company are duly dated and functioning."

Distracted. His eyes didn't see yours, they saw your lips. Fleshy and pink.

Jimin imagined that pretty little mouth of yours swallowing his whole cock. Savoring every part of skin. He imagined how good it would be to kiss you. Or how fast you would make him rock hard.

When you sat down, your cleavage was reflected, and the curves of your breasts, how he would be tracing his fingers over the bra you are wearing, unfasten the back clip... his mouth was watering, palming himself through the pants. The more he thought of you, the more uncomfortable it was to wear tight pants.

"President, are you all right?" Already worried about the expression Jimin wore.

“Y-yes yes, of course. Let's continue with the program”. He said, after almost two minutes imagining such obscenities.

After a whole day listening to Jimin talk about the company's special, personal and international programs. At the time of departure of all the staff, it occurred to you to tell him to take a tour of the building, since it was huge and spacious enough, and you were afraid to get to a place and not know how to return. Jimin laughed delicately before suggesting that you follow him.

"Well, this is the shed, the last area you would like to be in," Jimin said, visualizing the area.

“Why do you say it, President Park? I don't see why to be afraid of such a huge place like this, I guess.” You said, repeating his actions.

"Oh Miss Y/N, are you really that innocent, or are you half stupid?" Ha-ha how funny is this dumbass.

“Look, President Park Jimin, if I'm courteous to you, then you should be too. What happened in the past is not what builds the present” In your tone the irritation and anger that you carried throughout the day showed a little.

"¿Huh? And do you think I like to be called as "president”? Voice with an octave deeper than 1 minute ago.

"S-sorry?” Stunned, you didn't even know what to answer. Fuck fuck fuck

"Yes, Miss Y/N. That's not what you should call me, don't you think?"

Ffffffuuuuuuuccckkkkk, this is worse than being alone in a shed as big as this, and without food of course.

"¿Yes or no?". Jimin demanded, now using an angry tone.

"N-no sir". Ahhhhh, music for his ears.

And that was when Jimin knew that he couldn't hold it anymore.

Each time he got closer to you, you backed away asking what he was doing, until your back touched one of the tables of the place.

That's when Jimin said, "What do you think will happen if you call me president again?"

"I… I-I don't know, Sir. I really am sorry". Your gaze was circling the floor, nervously waiting for his response.

"Look me in the face when you are talking to me." He said.

Slowly, you gathered all your courage to do it. And with puppy eyes you said: "I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again."

Ohhhhhh hell ...

Jimin made his body and yours even have a millimeter of air. Fully glued. When your eyes met his, you could clearly see the lust in them. The desire to be able to touch what he could not during those years of school.

Slowly Jimin took both sides of your waist and sat you at the table. At this rate, your heart was beating with nerves, but also with the contempt of seeing what his next move would be.

“Little one, you don't know what you do to me… Do you know how hard it was today to see you arrive with such a skirt and cleavage? No, the worst was to accept the dirty look of the other workers towards you, as they saw this huge ass with as much desire as I do. You are really a serious thing; you know?” WOW, WOW, WOW ... WOW

"Huh? Sorry Jimin, it wasn't my intention..."

"Hold up ... How did you call me?

Oh no, now you are lost. You better start praying…

"Maybe I like it better how my name comes out of that pretty little mouth, but I would like you to call me that in private, okay?" Again that evil, smug smirk… God.

"Y-yes sir". That phrase came out of your mouth almost like a moan, for the simple fact that Jimin put his hand on your knee and was raising it along with your skirt.

“¿What was that, huh? ¿You like this?". Agh, you really loved what was happening.

“Tell me baby, how many times have you imagined me this way. How many times have you imagined being under me, feeling pain and pleasure at the same time ¿Huh? How good it is to feel me inside you so you can cum again and again because of how good I make you feel?”

Jimin brought his mouth to the side of your neck, and gave small kisses with bites. Testing, tasting, and waiting for your response.

“M-many times, from school. I didn't know what it was to have sex, I just knew that I-i wanted to have it with you. When I learned to masturbate, I did it thinking about how good it would be to ride your thighs and cum over and -ah- over again”

Just what he wanted to hear. A nice, juicy groan coming from deep within you.

“¿Really? And tell me, baby, how about I grant you the wish, and you ride one of my thighs, and you cum all over me?” At this time, Jimin was already at his maximum boner level, he was at any moment exploding and borrowing your mouth to cum.

"Yes, please Mr. Jimin, please let me ride you, goddamnit." You are not to beg, but you already had a pool in the middle of your legs, it is not fair to leave you like this and do nothing to you after all that has been said and done.

"Everything you want, babygirl”. then Jimin decided to get you up from the table and put you just above his leg.

You started to jump, moving backwards forward, groaning in front of him, while Jimin just watched you with his dilated pupils. All he saw was you, as he had imagined you from school, as he imagined you the day of the interview. Everything was too much for him. Having you on his leg, riding his thigh, wetting his limited edition Louis Vuitton pants, but because it’s you, that does not matter at the moment. Just having you there is what he needs.

Jimin watched carefully at the expressions you made. As your mouth broke apart, panting hard approaching a delicious orgasm. As your breasts moved with the little jumps you were doing, when he decided to help. Leaving the state of shook in which he was, he placed his hands on your hipst and helped you with strong movements, making your clit twist with the hard material of his pants, in your wet and ruined underwear.

"Ah Jimin, I'm close... Please, ¿huh?" You said in the middle of moans, not holding that friction anymore. You needed more.

"What did you call me?". His eyes were penetrating. Shit, it's impressive how only one look can make you water more juices.

"Please, sir, I need to come, please." With teary eyes, you begged, earning a smirk from him.

“Of course, babygirl. All you need to do is ask”. And with that, Jimin took you off his thigh, putting you on the table again, tearing your legs apart so he can see all your wetness through your panties. All what he had made you to do.

All he wanted to do with you was fuck you senseless till you could not go work because you cannot walk because of how sore he had left you.

But it has to wait. It has to wait because Jimin still does not have a definitive answer to what will happen after today is over.

He was not afraid of rumors that someone had been fucked in the building while everyone was resting. He was afraid that you would not come back. That you would not come back because of him. For not being able to control his instincts. For being unable to control himself when you are around. He may have had countless girls he has slept with, but none has had the affection he has for you. You were always special even though he tried to erase memories about you.

“Ji- Sir, please”. You moaned out when Jimin pulled your panty aside, just to see how swollen you were.

Zoned up, he remembered he was with you in that moment, so he needs to approach this moment before it has gone.

“Tell me how much you want me”. He demanded.

“Fuck! If you keep talking like that, I’m gonna cum undone. Please sir, I want you to put your fucking fingers in me and make me all yours”. You were talking nonsense. Not even you can figure it out what you wanted, if you hated him or nah.

“Shhhhiit. You know what are you doing, ¿right? You’re making me crazy”. His boner was rock hard. Even you can see the large line where ended his cock. And your mouth waters.

“Then go crazy. Go fucking crazy”. Smirking, you grabbed his white shirt, jumped off of the table, turned him around so he can lean on the table while you were working on his belt, when he grabbed your hands.

“This is not about me, babygirl. So fuck off and let me taste that little kitty that smells so fucking good”. He was serious. You too but he was so SO serious about it, so you had to let go and no complain about it. Anyways you wanted to cum.

“How many years did I have to wait to get you like this, huh? How long it took you to come at me looking so fucking pretty that it really hurt, huh? You don’t know anything so just let me take care of your little cat”

Jimin placed you again in the table, this time he had put you further up so he can lean on level with your core. Smelling your aroma, he hummed and dipped a finger on it, earning the longest moan you’ve ever let out.

You weren’t getting laid since months, so of course it has you this worked out.

“¿Do you want more? Shit, you are so tight right now. You may be thanking God I’m not fucking you with my cock. You’ve be taking a long damn time to get ready for me kitten. You are clenching so hard I think I’m going to cum in my pants just feeling your walls suck my finger back”. Fuck, why he has to sound so fucking sexy with such filthy words.

You nodded. Way to away from reality to reply to him

He added another one, this time earning you arching your back, your boobs getting out of your blouse. A good image Jimin wanted to print on his mind forever.

And then, Jimin’s tongue were on you. He was slurping all your juices and biting your pussy lips. That’s it. That’s what took so long for your approaching orgasm.

He was watching you between your legs so you put your hands on his head. Pushing him deeper, drowning him on your juices. And then, you were blank. Your vision white. You didn’t even know you were moaning so loud that someone in the next shed can hear you.

“Sshhh, yes baby, cum for me, let me take care of you”. Jimin said, still pulling in and out his finger till you were cringing for overstimulation.

When you opened your eyes, you saw him seeing you, as if you were a treasure. Sure, you don’t felt the same way.

“Oh… my gosh”. That’s all what you said. Too ashamed to see him straight to his eyes.

“¿Why are you so shy now? I can tell you are pretty loud, but it does not matter”. ¿It’s because he likes you? Who knows.

“I-I don’t know I just... want to go home, please”. You don’t even know what the hell you want.

“Oh… okay, let me get you hom- “. And then you interrupted.

“No no no, I’ll call a taxi. Don’t worry, you just… get home safely please”.

And with that, you were running to get the hell out of there.

Note: I hope you guys like this one, its my first one and im a little nervous about what will yall think. Feel free to tell me what you think <3

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justkending · 6 years ago

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Used to Be Overlooked. Chapter 6.

Summary: Steve Rogers was walking down the streets of Brooklyn after finishing a mission. The goal was just to take some time to clear his mind along the city streets, but when he runs into a gorgeous young lady that looks extremely familiar… How can he go about moving on? Who is she? What does he know her from? Was that memory even from this decade?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader (Rosalyn Ember/ Y/N ?)

Word Count: 2800+

A/N: Let me know what you think! Feedback is what keeps me going, and helps me get better ideas for the future:)

Series Masterlist

Chapter 6:

You woke up doing your normal routine. Wake up at 5 am, do a couple of miles around the neighborhood, come home, take a shower, and do your hair. Outfit was usually laid out the night before so it was easier in the early morning. Go down stairs, make your cup of coffee, and have a light breakfast if time allowed. Then head on to work. Getting in about 7:30 am, and greeting Walter at the door as usual.

You got to your office proud that you were able to distract yourself last night, and get a majority of your work done for today. There was even a chance of you heading home early, and giving yourself a relaxing night for the first time in months.

Everything was just now starting to calm down and flow just right to where a lay low kinda night was acceptable.

“Hey, Claire?” you said pushing the button to get through to the front desk.

“Yes, ma’am?” she responded quickly.

“What do you say we call it an early day around 2 this afternoon? I have a few more cases to go over, and then I think we can give ourselves an early start to the weekend,” you smiled.

“Are you sure? Not that I’m complaining, but I feel like you have a ton to do.”

“List off what I have scheduled.” you said leaning back in your chair.

“Ok, review case file number C104R?”

“Done last night.”

“Email the Langston Business about collaborating on a new project that is still being discussed?”

“Done last night as well.”

“Complete the files for HR over the interns that you are interested in?”

“Did it earlier this morning when I came in.”

“And lastly, the meeting with the interns to do a mid-assessment talk with how everything is going?”

“I can get that done before 2,” you smiled proud that you were so on top of things.

“Wow, I mean that was a lot, but I thought there was even more. You somehow managed to get it all out of the way without me even knowing,” she laughed an airy breath shocked at your speed.

“It’s a man's world out there still, and you have to show them that women can get things done 10x faster and better. It’s all about the work ethic,” you laughed. “Go ahead and move that meeting up to 1, and then after that we should be clear for the rest of the day.”

“Yes ma’am, right on it,” she smiled.

“Claire?” you said quickly before she could hang up the phone. “Call me Rose or Rosalyn. I am only about 4 years older than you. I’m not some old cranky boss that thinks she’s better than you just because of my title.”

“Yes ma’am- I mean. Yes, Rosalyn,“ you could hear her smile on the other end. “I’ll get that switched for you.” Then she hung up.

As expected the day went on faster due to how much you were able to get out of the way the night before. You were just wrapping up your meeting with the interns that weren’t but 4-5 years younger than you, but the way you presented yourself, they always had a respect for you. You could say you have an old soul, or experience in this area.

You were saying goodbye and answering a few questions that a few interns stayed behind to ask when Claire peaked her head in the doorway careful not to get hit by the exiting students.

“Um, Miss. Ember?” she asked almost timidly.

You looked up from the women you were talking to and raised a finger to tell her to hold one second while you wrapped up.

“If you apply by the summer, you should be fine. I’ve seen your work Sue. You have amazing intelligence in this field, and I’m sure we would love to recruit you when the time comes for you to have an actual job,” you smiled at her.

“Thank you so much Miss. Ember. It means a lot coming from one of the youngest female scientist. I mean really! You are such an inspiration to a lot of the women in this field,” the young intern smiled.

“I’m just doing what I love. No need for the praise,” you smiled patting her shoulder. “Now go on and enjoy your weekend.”

She nodded and walked out with a confident glow to her. You started moving to collect the papers you had laid out on the conference table, and remembered Claire.

“What’s going on, Claire?” you said stacking the papers and looking down at them.

“There are two gentleman here who said they wanted to talk to you,” she said quietly walking into the room with a notepad in hand.

“Do these gentleman have names?” you asked placing the stack of papers in your arms, and turning to her.

“Um, yes. Mr. Stark, and Mr. Rogers,” she said looking down. “Forgive me for asking if it’s personal, but I noticed Dr. Banner here the other day, and can’t help but realize the other Avengers coming. I mean I am a huge Captain America fan, so I’m kinda freaking out right now, but I didn’t realize that you knew them like that.”

As soon as she said Stark your heart dropped, but then she said Rogers, and your heart actually stopped. You didn’t hear her talking and only caught a few words like ‘huge fan’ and ‘avengers’. You were too focused on the fact that Steve Rogers was most likely sitting in your office or outside your office waiting to meet you. This can’t be good could it?

“I didn’t really know where you wanted me to direct them, so they are still at the front desk. That Tony Stark sure is a flirt, but Cap is such a charmer even though he only said a few words. Sorry, I’m rambling. I’m kinda nervous honestly,” she sighed as you took in her red face and finally snapped out of your own thoughts.

“It’s fine Claire. Thank you for letting me know. I, uh, I can take them back to my office. Let’s just head back to the desk. I don’t want to leave them waiting too long,” you said with a fake smile as you handed her the papers you had and motioned to the door.

Honestly, you wanted to run down the stairwell and get as far away as possible. You were not ready to confront him, and if he was here, it was because he was putting the pieces together. He wasn’t a stupid man. You knew that. You just weren’t sure what to expect.

As you walked out of the conference room, you took a few different hallways to get back to your office. You were only one turn away before you would be greeted with the beautiful blonde hair blue eyed man, and his playboy millionaire coworker. Just as you were coming around the corner, and about to meet his eye line from where he was looking down at the desk, one of your coworkers stopped you.

“Miss. Ember, if I could get your signature for this I would appreciate it,” the small bald middle aged man said stopping you in your tracks. He said your name loud enough for anyone within a 30 ft distance could hear, which meant that Tony and Steve were most likely watching your every move. Since you weren’t too sure if you wanted to look just yet, you looked down at the shorter man and smiled taking the pen.

“Sure thing. I should probably know what I’m signing though,” you laughed placing your hands in front of you in a mannerly way as you waited for him to explain.

This could give you some time to steer clear of Rogers, right?

He went on to explain something about paperwork, but you were only half listening because you could feel Steve's eyes piercing into you. You couldn’t help it anymore and gently looked up, immediately making eye contact with him and sending him a subtle smile before turning back to the man because you could feel the slight red making its way to your cheeks.

“That her?” Tony whispered to Steve as they both stared you down.

“Yeah,” Steve said studying you.

You looked extremely professional and mature, but still beautifully young. You were wearing high waisted brownish pants that were flowy and almost looked like a skirt if you didn’t look hard enough. Your top was an off the shoulder but modest, cream colored top, and you had on heels with a thick chunky heel, but still business casual. You were fashionable and stunning all at once. Not that it was hard for someone like you too be that perfect, but the outfit gave you this glow of confidence and manner that made you even more attractive.

While Steve was studying you and putting all the details he saw in the back of his memory bank so he could process it later, he didn’t notice you finishing your conversation with the man and walking over.

Tony nudged him had in the shoulder catching him off guard and making him send a glare his direction.

“Close your mouth. You’re gonna catch a fly,” he muttered before putting his hand out to you. “Rosalyn Ember. Such a pleasure to finally meet you,” he said all so charming as you put your hand out to shake, and he took it placing a chaste kiss on the back of it making you smirk at the gesture.

Oh how Steve wished he could take a picture of that grin and look at it every night before he went to bed.

“Mr. Stark. Though I wasn’t expecting your presence, it’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” You said very formally.

“I hope we weren’t interrupting anything. We know you have a busy schedule, but we just had to visit the woman that Banner speaks so highly of,” Stark said returning the formal way of speaking.

“Oh, actually you caught me on a less hectic day,” You smiled placing your hands in front of you as you held them in each other.

You kept sneaking glances at Steve which you saw him never breaking his eyesight from you. If it wasn’t him staring, you would be crept out by it.

“Oh, forgive me. This is my friend Steve. Steve Rogers, Rosalyn Ember,” Tony said introducing you two like Tony and you were best friends.

“Mr. Rogers. It’s nice to see you again,” you smiled putting a hand out for him to shake. He quickly took it and gave you a firm handshake that lasted a touch longer than it should have, but neither of you were mad about it.

“Miss. Ember. Never thought I would see you again, but lucky for me here we are,” he smiled making you start to blush once again.

You nervously tucked a strand of your curled hair behind your ear before placing your hands back in front of you.

“I’m sorry, do you two know each other?” Tony faked shock knowing this was all a part of the plan. Steve had to hold back rolling his eyes at how dramatic Tony sounded.

“We ran into each other at a coffee shop recently. And by ran into each other I mean quite literally,” you said sending him a joking grin making his annoyance at Tony disappear and fade into a full smile.

“Glad I was there though. Otherwise you would be a flattened pancake,” he chuckled wanting to punch himself for the stupid comparison.

“Yes, thank you once again for that.” you smiled making his nerves multiply. “Well, you must be here for a reason other than to just shake hands. Is there something that I can help you two with?” you said trying to play off knowing Steve more than you were letting on.

“Actually, we were on the phone with you when Bruce called about dinner,” Tony stated.

Shoot. Then there was no way that Steve was not going to figure the things that you didn’t want him to know out. Your thoughts that night of them looking you up and such were right. They had to be.

“The thing you helped him with was something we had been stumped on for a while, and Bruce said you solved it in less than 5 minutes.”

“New eyes help the process sometimes,” you shrugged. “Would you two like to come in my office to talk?” you said motioning to the door, but instantly regretting your offer. No, you needed to make this fast so they didn’t ask too many questions. Just them being here was nerve racking and not a good thing.

“No, no. No need for that. We were in the neighborhood and wanted to drop by and extend the dinner invitation we offered once again. And since it’s not too ‘hectic’ as you put it, we would love to have you over tonight if you can,” Tony said sending you that oh so charming smile.

“I uh-” you weren’t sure how you were going to get out of this one.

“Claire? Claire was it?” Tony said turning to your secretary who was acting like she wasn’t listening but definitely was. “Does Miss. Rosalyn have anything going on tonight at say hmmmm… 6-7ish?” he asked.

You were trying to send her a signal to lie because she knew you weren’t busy, but she was too captivated by Tony to pay any mind to you.

“No, actually. She gets off around 2 today. We were ahead of schedule,” she blushes looking over at Steve after saying it.

“You don’t say,” Tony said turning back to you who quickly put on a fake smile.

“Oh, well yes, job wise I am free, but unfortunately I have some -uh- plans tonight,” you tried saving yourself as you walked over to the desk and placed and arm on it facing Tony more. Steve still watching your every move, and most definitely catching your lie. It wasn’t very believable.

“Oh? What kind of plans?” Tony said, clearly knowing how this game is played.

“I don’t see how it is any concern to you Mr. Stark. Is my social life something for you to worry about?” you ask with your sass coming out with a raised eyebrow and crossed arms.

Steve chuckled under his breath at your assertiveness, and noticed Tony backing down a little once you stood a little taller.

“No, but I just have a small feeling that your lying,” Tony retorted. “I tend to do the same thing when I want to get out of something.”

A playful grin formed on your lips when you noticed that you and Tony could go back and forth.

“Hmmm,” she hummed.

“Come on now Miss. Ember. We have chefs that will cook anything you like. We can have drinks and talk science. The team wants to get to know you and thank you for your help,” he smooth talked. “I mean you get to meet the Avengers out of this. I feel like it’s a good deal,” he winked.

You kept your stance of crossed arms, and a playful grin as you processed it. The likelihood of Stark giving up was extremely thin. What would one evening with Steve and the Avengers hurt? They don’t know your secret, and if questions get asked you can deny them instead of them searching for it later.

“Ok, you got me. I’ll come to your little dinner party if you insist.”

“I insist,” he smiled “Steve here is going to be so excited to introduce you to the team, and show you the tower,” He said giving his friend a hard slap on the back.

“Is that so?” you smiled over at him.

Steve shot Tony a look knowing exactly what he was doing.

“Yes… I would love to do that,” he said through a forced smile. “You’ll love them. As long as they behave,” he said slapping Tony on the back right back at him. Tony stumbled a little at the force, and let out a fake laugh.

“Ok, 6 o’clock at my place it is. I’ll send a car to pick you up.” he smiled.

“Oh, you don’t have to-”

“It’s perfectly fine. Happy will be at your house at 5:30, and you can head our way whenever you are ready,” he said moving to the exit with Steve hesitantly behind. “Wear something nice!” he shouted before turning to the hall outside the elevators.

You smiled as they left and waved when you saw Steve kept turning back every few steps to look at you.

You were screwed. He was going to figure everything out, and you were screwed. As soon as they were out of sight, your smile fell and you slouched a little as you went back into your office terrified of what could happen.

Chapter 7

Used to be Overlooked Tag:

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If I tagged you and you aren’t normally on my tag list, I thought you would enjoy the story. Fair warning, it is a slow burn so we will get to the bottom of the issue later, but the burn is what makes it soooooo sweet. I’m really excited for this series, and would love your feedback:) Thank you!

If you want removed let me know. After 3 chapters I will only tag those that I normally do, or those that ask:)

#marvel #marvel series #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader series #steve rogers #justkending #mcu series #muc #captain america x reader #captain america #captain america x reader series #series

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jinniesxlamp · 5 years ago

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Goodbye, Hello - Chapter 8

LIST OF CHAPTERS –> Masterlist

Y/N’s POV

The succeeding days had gone by in a blink of an eye, a few adjustments were made to cater Min Yoongi’s absence due to a conflict of schedule. His agency had formally asked for him to join his members in Japan, which we granted with no hesitation. It was BTS after all. Most days were uneventful, occupied with field work and paper works to say the least. Although things did get better in terms of my interpersonal relations between my colleagues, the staff and my seniors. Tension was less, and the power struggles had slowly diminished between them and I. It was nice to have mutual trust and respect established within my workplace.

Upon Yoongi’s return the subsequent week, he personally apologized, taking advantage of the privacy we had in the elevator on the Monday of that week. I accepted right away. A mutual, though unsaid agreement was made on both ends—that we remain civil and professional towards each other for the remaining days we have left working on this show. That was that. For the both of us.

Lee Jooheon however, had seen me walk towards the bus stop a day after my vehicle was sent to the shop after the hit-and-run, offering to give me a ride home. I did not allow it though, for his own sake. Who knows who and what follows him around. He was an idol after all. Even so, I did not decline him of a meet up. I still owed him an apology for that night. I offered to buy him dinner which he ended up paying for, creating an excuse for a second meeting, then a third. Since then, I had to constantly remind him that our meet-ups were strictly social and non-romantic. He seemed to have accepted my terms, while we continuously, casually saw each other for dinner, if not, a drink or two. Nothing more, nothing less.

Eventually, the show had to end. Today was the last day of taping. I was stuck in my office the entire day, with five piles of contracts, scripts and whatnot to review, it was not even possible for me to peek down the studio for a full five minutes. I did however, make sure to attend the season-end-party later this evening. While I was busy flipping through the pages of terms and conditions, Soojin came in to inform me about a visitor whom I allowed to be brought in.

Jooheon’s POV

“How could you be so cruel?” I snarled at the lady who wasn’t even paying attention to the stranger walking inside her office.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be downstairs?”

Her eyes flickered at the sound of my voice, finally closing the folder she had been reading for who knows how long.

“Aigooo, is that how you greet your guests gwangjangnim?” Again, I teased earning a glare in return.

There was something about her gusty stare that made me smile beneath my exterior affect. It didn’t intimidate me nor anger me, but it simply drew me to her. It wasn’t intended to scare people off, just to protect herself from anything or anyone that can strip her vulnerability off of her. That’s the last thing this woman wants.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question” she snared at me with eyebrows raised.

“We finished earlier than expected, so everyone else went home to freshen up before the party”

“So...why exactly are you here? Shouldn’t you be doing the same?”

I patiently watched as she began to flip on the folder again, waiting for me to respond.

“I wanted to see you” I said. This time, with a different tone. One which she picked up right away.

“Y-you could’ve waited until the party...pabo” flustered, she managed to execute her sentence, purposely mumbling the last word.

“I’m leaving tonight.”

Y/N’s POV

“Don’t miss me too much” kept repeating itself inside my head as I stared across the studio-turned-dance floor at the ground floor of the building.

This wasn’t the farewell party I expected since we usually just went out for barbecue and drinks to celebrate. But somehow, Chairman Byeon was generous enough to dispense a more decent amount for this party. Perhaps it was the show rating which gained the highest among all stations that caused this big celebration to take place. Or was it to please the influential personalities involved in this project? Who knows.

Amidst the dinner tables where everyone else socialized, I stayed seated at the minibar on the left corner at the back of the room, barely finishing my first glass of wine. There were times when thoughts of Jooheon flashed through my mind. Scenes of earlier, when he bid goodbye. A few weeks ago he had told me he was leaving for a two-month world tour which I had completely forgotten about. Though our relationship was nowhere romantic, I did enjoy his company. He made me feel comfortable and safe whenever we spent time together. And frankly, it did make me feel a certain way. I wouldn’t exactly call it love though.

As I was about to grab the second glass of Chardonnay passed by the bartender, another hand managed to sweep it away from my grip.

“Eonnie”

I cleared my throat, wishing I could hide from Soojin whose arms folded towards me. She sighed, taking the seat right next to me.

“Eonnie” she repeated firmly.

Of all people, she knew me the most. Happy or sad. Well or ill. Sober or drunk. I knew what she had to say. I wasn’t allowed another glass.

Since I was under Myunghwa’s care, I had been sober. And because of that, my resistance to alcohol had become very weak to the extent wherein a second glass of lightweight champagne would be too much for me.

“I’m just worried about you....especially knowing that Jooheon isn’t here to take care of you”

“G-gabjagi—“ I felt my face blush at her sudden remark. I composed myself right away

“A-arasso, arasso” surrendering, offering the glass to one of the secretaries who arrived just in time.

Soojin had left early to rest, meanwhile, the rest of the staff were still all over the place, dancing, drinking, laughing. It was a nice sight to watch, but it wasn’t for me. I stood in the same place, not sure of what to make of the rest of the night. Though I loved the comfort of my home, my energy was not fit for bed, not yet. I remembered the remaining last pile of documents that needed to be done in my office.

8:57 pm

“I might be able to finish around midnight if I leave now”

Yoongi’s POV

To my own surprise, I was fairly enjoying myself at the party, mostly due to Loco and Hwasa who I discussed a potential collaboration with if everything is agreed with all three agencies. Had Suran not called me to work on our current project, I would have stayed. Dragging myself to the parking lot, taking all the time I needed, a familiar figure stood by the lobby, speaking to the receptionist. What could she be discussing at this hour? Not long after, their conversation had ended, allowing an encounter for the both of us.

She greeted me with a bow, which I returned right away. This was probably the last time we’ll be seeing each other for awhile, so I gave myself some time—to remember her face, and to say the things I thought were necessary for a proper farewell.

“You’re great at what you do, Y/N. Keep it up.” I said. Hoping she would acknowledge the sincerity.

“Thank you. I wish the same things for you, Min Yoongi. I’m glad to see you’re living the life you’ve always dreamt of. I mean it.” She said, with the same amount of sincerity behind her weak smile.

“Don’t work to hard” I said, she returned it with a smirk.

“I wish I could say the same, but I know you too well.”

Maybe she didn’t mean to say that out loud.

She seemed taken aback by her own words. I allowed silence to dominate for just a few seconds, and then decided—it was time to say good bye. For good, this time.

“Geureom“ I bowed, allowing her to reciprocate before going our separate ways.

“Goodbye, Y/N” I whispered to myself.

Y/N’s POV

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi” I whispered to myself.

I was down to the last contract when I noticed the time.

12:37 am

“Shit” I cursed to myself, recalling the agreement I had with the security department awhile ago. The building normally closes around midnight on a daily basis, however, the last security patrols at 1:00 am. They agreed to let me stay for an extended amount of time, provided that I leave before the last patrol ends.

Fortunately, there were a lot of pages which didn’t require reading for this packet, allowing me to finish at exactly 12:45 am. That’s enough time for me to grab my belongings and rush towards the parking lot.

The building seemed a lot more sinister at night, with most of the lights off. Chills started building up my spine as I walked down the narrow hallways, leading to the basement. At first I thought it was just the eerie sight that made me feel uncomfortable. But the further I walked, the more uneasy I felt. As if someone was watching me. I quickened my pace, determined to keep myself calm though failing desperately. My eyes searched for any signs of patrol officers around the premises, but to no avail. I continued to walk across the parking lot, not daring to look back at any cost. However, a faint reflection on one of the parked cars confirmed my suspicion.

I wasn’t alone.

I only had one thing in mind.

Run.

Three men were following me from behind, all in black, each with a cap and a face mask to hide their identities. I screamed for help, but no one seemed to hear me. I continued to run, desperate to survive. I managed to buy myself some time, trying to lose the bodies that were tailing me, moving as slow as possible. I didn’t have much time, I pulled out my phone with trembling hands, calling the number security had left me earlier in case anything were to happen.

Ring. Ring.

“Yeoboseyo?” Just my luck!

“Y-y-yeoboseyo? J-jebal”

“Gwangjangnim? Odi isseoyo?”

“P-parking lot”

Regardless if I had delivered my message clearly, that was the last thing I could say before I felt a strong pull from behind me. The tight hand sealed above my mouth prevented me from screaming as I was dragged across the parking lot, helplessly.

“Gwangjangnim!”

My eyes widened at the sound of hope, my abductors began to panic hearing the patrol guards. I struggled to squirm out of their grip.

“Be still if you don’t want us to silence you in any other way” threatened one of the men. I didn’t comply.

“Aish. Ya. This won’t keep still” cursed the other man beneath his breath, trying to keep quiet themselves.

I noticed one of the men pour a substance of some sort onto a piece of cloth while we hid behind a parked car. Whatever it was, I knew I had to do something if I wanted to get out of this alive. The voices of the patrol officers began fading, I had to do something quick. Upon scanning the scene for anything I could use to my advantage, a different hand appeared in front of my face, attempting to suffocate me with a particular smell, a chemical I could not recognize. Observing as I slowly lost my consciousness, the men became lenient, loosening their hold onto me, leaning me freely on the parked vehicle, expecting me to collapse. I struggled to hold my breath, not wanting to inhale the chemical any further. Then, with all the force I had left, I carried my head swiftly, banging it as hard as I could on the vehicle causing its alarm to go off.

Hearing footsteps running towards me, I let go of my breath, allowing the smell to enter my system. Hearing faint voices as I slowly felt my eyes shut

“Aish! We need to leave now! Leave her!”

“Micheosseoyo?! We’re good as dead if we leave a mess like this!”

“The boss will take care of it! Aish! We don’t have time for this!”

“Ya! We’ll get caught at this rate! Leave her!”

“Aish!”

“Gwangjangnim!”

Hoseok’s POV

I found it unusual how we came up with a decision to watch a drama series all together in this neglected living room. It wasn’t untidy or un-cared for, just that it’s not used as much as it should be. All I could recall was Namjoon watching the local news, complaining about political issues and debates, Jin-hyung and myself were merely accompanying him in silence, left with nothing to do ourselves. Eventually, Taehyung sat in at around eight thirty to watch a program airing his good friend Park Seo Joon. The two maknaes joined in some time after. In the end, we were basically glued to our spots, engrossed in Jun Ji Hyun’s newly aired drama.

“Aish, why do they always cut it during the climax!?” Gnawed Jungkook in agony.

“At least it’s just a commercial break. Imagine if we were left with that until next week’s episode” consoled Jimin.

Everyone started fiddling with their phones, waiting for the program to resume.

“Breaking News. Sirens were reported to have awakened the residents of Gangnam as they rushed towards Seowon building around 1:00 am today—“

Seowon...why does that building sound familiar?

My eyes widened, turning to Namjoon who had the same reaction on his face.

“Ya, Jiminah, turn it up” I demanded.

“Seowon...isn’t that.....HYUNG!” It wasn’t long until everyone got the idea.

“—reports gathered information regarding an attack that happened inside the parking lot of the building itself. The victim is said to be a VIP, who is now receiving appropriate medical treatment at Samsung Medical Center. The identity of the victim is kept confidential for the time being.”

“He isn’t picking up” Jin-hyung broke the silence, beads of sweat now visible along his temples.

“Aish! Answer your phone Yoongiah” he tried again, but to no avail.

This went on for fifteen minutes, only to be halted with the sound of someone entering the apartment.

We waited anxiously and hopefully to know who had just walked in.

“Wasseo” finally, a voice we were relieved to hear. Jin-hyung and I both collapsed on the couch as the rest of us sighed in unison.

“Oh, you’re all awake” said Yoongi, surprised.

“Ya! Micheosseoyo?! What use is that phone of yours when you can’t be reached at all?” The intensity in Jin-hyungs voice was very well justified with the protrusion of his jugular vein on his neck.

“Hyung, you scared us” sighed Jungkook, rubbing his chest to calm himself down.

“What’s going on?” Asked Yoongi more confused than ever.

“There was news of someone being attacked at Seowon building a few minutes ago.”

“That’s ridiculous. Who on earth would be there at this ho—“

Now, it was our turn to get confused, watching his whole body freeze and pupils dilate to its max.

“Ya, kwenchana?” I asked, attempting to redirect his attention. Although, it wasn’t necessary as his phone rang from his pocket.

Ring.

“Yeoboseyo?”

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