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heliads · 3 months ago

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wouldn't you love to love her? - jack hughes

The New Jersey Devils have a new social media intern. Jack Hughes is determined not to care at all, except for the fact that he does.

masterlist

“We’re getting a new social media intern,” Luke remarks offhandedly.

Jack tries not to roll his eyes. He’s not sure he succeeds. For as long as he’s been at the Devils, there have been perhaps dozens of new social media interns, one after another in a chain of pretty girls shoving phones into his face. Every time, it’s always the same. Another girl, fresh from college or in between jobs, asking him and the others to learn dances or take part in trends. Luke will flirt with the intern. Dawson too, probably. Even Jack, when he gets bored. Then, the internship will be up in a month or two, and they’ll get another one. Prettier, maybe, or funnier. And the cycle will begin again.

It’s not like he can really blame them, either. The hockey industry is precious, even for people who aren’t playing. If these girls want in, an internship is a great way to start. Any entry post’s a good one if it gets you where you want. Only, social media’s a pain. Jack came here to play hockey, not be in a dozen new photos and videos a day. It drives him crazy sometimes, or all the time.

So, when his brother tells him they’re getting another intern, he really couldn’t care less. Luke, more prone to fits of passion over the latest girl in Devils red, is still staring at him wide eyed, waiting for a reaction, so Jack rolls his eyes and gives him one.

“Good,” he says dully. “It’s been too long since I saw a phone camera shoved in my face. Can’t wait.”

Luke groans. “Come on, man. They’re fun, don’t give me that bullshit again. Besides, I saw you trying to buy the last one drinks.”

Jack can’t argue with this. He had been trying. It was something to do. “Won’t do it this time. I’ll leave that for you.”

Luke heaves another dramatic sigh. Jack wants to do something to stop the oppressive judgment, so he does, snatching the hat off Luke’s head and shoving it towards his mouth. Luke, predictably, nearly falls out of his chair and starts squawking indignantly. Jack just chuckles and gets up from his seat, heading towards the door. They’ve been idling in one of the cafes in the massive arena where they practice, called there early for business stuff that ended up getting delayed. Meetings always run late, and now Jack has the rare feeling of tardiness not actually being his fault.

He heads down the hall towards the locker rooms, ready at last for practice. Luke follows a few paces behind him, still complaining, something about saving violence for the ice. Bullshit, obviously. Jack does what he wants, where he wants. Hasn’t Luke figured that out by now?

Jack steals a glance over his shoulder just to rub in the injury. Luke meets his gaze and glowers, still pissy from almost taking a nose dive off his chair, but all of a sudden his eyes widen at something in front of them. Jack whips around just in time to collide with someone exiting one of the offices.

It’s not an accidental almost-impact, either, this is a complete disaster. Papers go flying. Jack manages to keep his balance, but the victim of his distraction is worse off. He has to fling out both hands to steady them, catching at their arms at the elbow before they fall over. A dozen apologies rise to his lips, but Jack only gets through about half of them before he actually looks at the person he’s just bumped into– and look, indeed, he does.

Jack has just run into a girl his age, and a very pretty girl at that. He gets lost in her eyes without even meaning to, captivated by the way the light shines in them as she opens her mouth and says, “What the hell are you doing?”

Jack blinks in surprise, feeling like he’s just been abruptly pulled out of a dream. “Huh?”

The girl stares at him like he’s crazy. “Why are you holding onto me?”

Too late, Jack realizes he never actually let go of her when he was trying to steady her. He snatches his hands away, the sinking feeling settling in that he actually has no idea how long he was standing there, captivated. No wonder this girl thinks he’s insane. This random guy comes up, runs into her, then silently holds her in his arms for what’s probably more than just a second or two? Yeah, that’s crazy in anyone’s books.

“Sorry,” Jack says again. They look at each other warily for a moment longer, then collectively, both gazes drop to the papers spilled across the ground.

Immediately, Jack dives for them, trying to gather as many as he can. He springs up again, and, not trusting himself to say anything that isn’t stupid, just awkwardly holds out the papers until she takes them. The girl gives him one last disbelieving glance, then walks purposefully past him. Jack turns and watches her go, wondering why he feels vaguely disappointed that she hadn’t stopped to talk longer. He didn’t even get her name.

Raucous laughter breaks out the second the girl disappears around a corner. Belatedly, Jack remembers that Luke has witnessed the whole thing, which is just great. The last thing Luke needs is more ammunition for making fun of him.

“That was, like, the least smooth thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Luke chokes out. “What the fuck was that?”

Heat flares into Jack’s cheeks. “Shut up,” he says, turning back to continue walking down the hallway.

Luke, however, is unwilling to let go of the horrific blunder. He trots up to walk by Jack’s side, regardless of how much Jack tries to pick up the pace. “I mean, Jesus. Way to make an entrance. Poor girl’s probably going to log that with HR.”

“Shut up,” Jack repeats through gritted teeth. “I’ve seen you do worse in front of fans.”

“We’re not talking about me right now, we’re talking about you,” Luke says happily. “I’m so telling Quinn about this.”

“You are not,” Jack warns, but even after many threats of serious violence, he’s not entirely convinced that his older brother won’t hear about this.

Jack almost manages to put the whole thing out of his mind until he and the others are hanging out in the locker room later that day. They’re all dressed, but their coach wanted a few words before they hit the ice, apparently something bureaucratic that Jack can’t wait to forget.

Instead of being introduced to a new friend of the owner or some wealthy donor, however, Coach announces that they’ll be meeting their new social media intern. Online presence is crucial for sponsors, apparently, and the Devils need to up their game. So they say. Jack thinks it’s a lot of nonsense, and is fully prepared to treat it as such until their coach beckons the new intern into the room and Jack realizes he knows her. This isn’t a stranger, someone he can ignore without another thought. This is the pretty girl Jack just ran into earlier today, and she’s the one in charge of most of his Internet footprint.

Great.

Across the room, Luke is grinning ear to ear. This is so not what Jack wanted. The coach is saying something about how they’ll all be pulled one by one today for introductions and a few quick videos that can be parceled out during the next week or so. Usually, they would ask Nico first, captain rights and all that, but they need him to advise on some drills, so they go for the next best– Jack himself.

They’ll be filming TikToks or whatever a few halls over so as to not distract anyone, so Jack makes his way over with no small amount of trepidation. She hadn’t seemed so excited to meet him earlier, but maybe she’ll have forgotten who he was. It was a fast exchange. Maybe this means nothing at all, and they will have a great meeting, and he could even get her number or something. Yeah, not a problem.

The girl is setting up a phone on a stand when Jack shows up. She glances once at him as he approaches, then nods. “Oh, we’re starting with Mr. Observant. Cool.”

Jack feels his face turn a bright scarlet. “I’m not– I’m sorry about that. Honestly. I just didn’t see you.”

“That’s fine,” the girl says with a listless wave of her hand. “It was funny. I just thought hockey players would have more reflexes or something, I don’t know. Anyway, what’s your name, again?”

This is a simple question. It really is. Yet for some reason, Jack finds himself bothered. He’s been with the team for a while now, had that A on his uniform for a while now, and maybe he shouldn’t, but he’s gotten comfortable with his reputation. People know who he is. He’s recognized on the street, asked for photos while he’s getting coffee, all of that. And now this girl– this intern– is pretending like she doesn’t know who he is, and insulting his reflexes to boot?

“Jack,” Jack replies tersely. “Are you going to tell me your name, or should I just guess?”

“Y/N,” the girl answers him. “What do you do on the ice except run into people?”

“I play hockey,” Jack deadpans. “What else do you want me to say?”

Y/N just smiles at him, the picture of innocence. “Your position? This is supposed to be an introduction, isn’t it? I have to make sure I have a good picture of the team.”

Fine. Fine. Jack can be civil. He’s going to play along and then he’s going to leave and make somebody else deal with her.

“Yeah, position. I'm an alternate captain, a center. Left wing. That matters.” He feels like he’s rambling. This is stupid. He’s stupid. He never does this.

“Sure it does,” Y/N says, one eyebrow raised. “Do you have to tell everyone you’re cool or just the interns?”

“Huh?” Jack asks. “I’m not– I’m just talking.”

Y/N nods. “I’m sure you do. Talking and hockey, that’s impressive. I can see why the Devils wanted you.”

“Your team spirit needs some work,” Jack notes. “Why’d they hire you, your winning personality?”

“That, and I’m wonderful at making infographics,” Y/N informs him breezily.

“I bet they’re terrible,” Jack says on instinct. “Clashing colors and all that. Can you even draw a straight line?”

Y/N cocks her head to the side. “I don’t know, can you shoot on goal without getting injured?”

Jack takes a step forward on instinct before he remembers that he cannot fight social media interns and backs down. Still, the anger simmers in his head so bad he’s not sure if the red all around him is for the Devils or just the film of rage clouding his eyes.

This isn’t good for him. His team needs him out there on the ice with a level head, even in practice. Jack forces a smile and says, “I guess you’ll see at our next game, won’t you?”

Y/N meets his gaze with a mirror smirk, which bothers Jack more than if she’d tried to one-up him again. He grabs his stick with more force than necessary, making himself step past her and onto the ice before he does something he’ll regret. Once he’s out there, skating broad loops to warm up, Jack can almost put the whole exchange out of his head.

Almost.

Luke finds him after practice, because of course he does. Somedays, Luke swears that little brothers must be born with an innate knowledge of how to stick their heads into other people’s business. Fleetingly, he wonders what Quinn would think about that, then moves on before that lesson can settle in.

“I love our new intern,” Luke says happily on the drive back to their apartment.

Jack scoffs. “Sure you do. You love rubbing this in my face.”

Luke glances at him, surprised. “No, honestly. I think she’s great. Super funny, too.”

Jack turns to stare at him with disbelief so abruptly he almost swerves the car into a telephone pole. Veering to correct course, Jack spits out, “Y/N? You think Y/N is great?”

Once Luke stops pretending like they’ve almost died– which they didn’t, by the way, Jack had everything under control– he calms down enough to say, “Yeah, I do. She was super nice to me. I need to ask if she’s local so we can hang after the internship ends.”

Jack feels as if he’s been dropped into an alternate reality. “You’re serious. You really do like Y/N?”

Now Luke’s looking at him like he’s the crazy one. “Like I said, yeah. Why, what happened when you talked to her? Was she still mad about earlier?”

“You could say that,” Jack grits out, knuckles white around the steering wheel.

Luke chuckles. “That’s kind of funny, actually.”

“It is not,” Jack mutters, but Luke remains in high spirits the whole drive back anyway.

To the great amusement of his younger brother, Jack and Y/N continue to be at odds the next time the Devils have to film social media videos, and the next time, and the next. Even when they start off a meeting on relatively stable ground, something will happen to have them sniping again, and they’ll be at each other’s throats by the time they leave the building in the evening.

What makes it worse is that Jack is apparently the only one suffering from Y/N’s cold shoulder. Everyone from the captain to the rookies seems to have gotten along just fine with their newest social media intern, yet Jack feels like he walks around with a target on his back every time she’s in office. They’ve started to ignore each other instead of purposely tossing insults, but that’s as close as he’ll ever get to a truce.

Jack has started counting down the days until she leaves. He would love some peace and quiet. Maybe the next intern will be normal, or they’ll all be poisoned forever just because Y/N L/N showed up and changed Jack’s life for good.

God, he feels like she’s crept into every part of his world. He’ll be scrolling on his phone and the videos she filmed will appear on his For You page out of nowhere. Jack swears he can sense her in every quick cut, every box of text, every song selection. Walking through the arena, he sees her everywhere– ducking into a meeting room, discussing potential videos with some of the PR agents, tucked into the bleachers so she can watch them practice and snap some shots. Jack is starting to seriously wonder if there has ever been a time when she hasn’t been wound around him like a loose thread come undone from his favorite coat.

Even now, he can see her. Jack has finally left a late-night practice, breath fogging up in the cold evening air. He’s glad for the warmth of his car when he slides in. Luke went back with some friends, but Jack had wanted to hang around a while longer to practice some skills before the next game.

Y/N must have been working late too, because he can see her now, walking out of the parking lot and towards the sidewalk leading into town. Jack assumes she’s waiting for someone to pick her up, but Y/N’s steps don’t show any indication of slowing down. Is she actually walking on a night like this? Jack is cold just thinking about the weather outside. Y/N has a coat on, but it won’t be enough to discourage the bite of the wind.

Before he can even think about what he’s doing, he’s pulled his car alongside her. Y/N looks panicked when he comes to a stop, but relaxes somewhat when Jack rolls down the window and calls out to her. “Are you waiting for someone?”

Y/N shakes her head. “No, I’m walking back. Have a nice night.”

She turns back to the sidewalk, evidently expecting him to keep driving. Jack also expects himself to keep driving, but he doesn’t. “It’s awfully cold to be walking. How far is your apartment?”

“Not far,” Y/N says. “Twenty minutes, maybe?”

That settles it. “You’re not walking twenty minutes in the freezing cold,” Jack decides. “Besides, I thought you were dropped off. Isn’t someone coming to pick you up?”

Y/N pauses oddly, and it occurs to Jack that he probably shouldn’t be noticing how she gets to and from work each day. Still, when she speaks again, he’s pretty sure the annoyance in her voice isn’t directed at him, for once. “I was dropped off, but my friend canceled on me. Hence the walk.”

Jack’s mood immediately sours. That’s a shitty move for sure, and even if he doesn’t always see eye to eye with Y/N, he’d never leave her out here, shivering even after a few minutes of walking. And he won’t tonight, either.

“I can drive you, if you like,” Jack offers abruptly. He’s not sure why he does it. He never has before. They’ve never been in a position like this before, and maybe they won’t either. Still, he doesn’t take it back.

Y/N, apparently heedless of the gravity of this offer, just smiles and shakes her head. “That’s alright, I’ll just call an Uber. Thanks, though.’

Jack blinks and stares at her. It had taken such a rush to get the words out that it honestly didn’t occur to him that she would just say no. “Is this because you’re mad at me?”

“I’m not mad at you, Jack,” Y/N laughs. “I’m walking. You should get going soon, you’re going to disrupt traffic.”

“Fuck traffic, you’re cold,” Jack says disbelievingly. “Get in the car, Y/N. Please?”

She looks like she’s going to argue, but a particularly frigid gust of wind rips through that thin jacket and a moment later, Y/N is settling into his passenger seat. She turns to look at him, and Jack looks back at her, just a few spans apart. They’re close enough that he can see the flutter of her eyelashes as she blinks. Close enough that he could reach out and touch the slow bloom of cold on her cheek if he just tried.

“So?” Jack manages to pull himself together long enough to ask, “What’s your address?”

Y/N blinks, evidently startled out of some reverie, then pulls it up on her phone. Jack follows the directions, fingers drumming absentmindedly on the steering wheel. The car is quiet, and it weighs on him like a burden until he finally blurts out, “Why do you hate me, though?”

Y/N looks baffled. “I don’t hate you.”

Jack snorts. “Of course you do. You get along with every single member of this team but me, it’s a little hard not to take that personally. Come on, just tell me. Is it because I ran into you that first day?”

Y/N laughs again. It’s one of the few times it’s with him, not at him, and Jack lets the sound wash over him like sunlight. It’s a good sound. He wouldn’t mind hearing it again, maybe.

“That was funny. No, it wasn’t that. It’s just–” Her voice drops off, suddenly serious. “Do you remember Emma? She was your social media intern last summer. She’s the one who suggested I take this program, actually.”

Vague memories appear in Jack’s head. “Kind of? We’ve had a lot of interns.”

“Yeah, well, she’s one of my best friends, and the most important piece of advice she gave me before I started was to stay the hell away from you.”

Jack almost misses his turn. “What? Why?”

He risks a glance away from the road and towards her, but Y/N is keeping her head perfectly straight, not allowing herself to look at him in the slightest. “Something about you breaking her heart. She seems to remember you flirting a lot, buying her drinks, then dumping her for someone more interesting the second the internship ended.”

Jack winces. “That does sound familiar, actually. Sorry. I didn’t mean to–”

Y/N interrupts him with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, no, I get it. I love Emma, I really do, but she’s got a habit of moving quickly. Still, she was really hurt for a while. I figured anyone who could do that to my friend and not even remember was someone who didn’t need me to be nice to them.”

Guilt starts to pool in Jack’s stomach, icing him down to the core. “Still. I was a dick.”

“You still are, on occasion,” Y/N says, smiling slightly, “But I’ve been bad too, I think. I wanted to get revenge for my friend, but I’ve been more mean than needed. I’m sorry too.”

Jack comes to a slow stop in front of one of the notoriously long red lights of their shared city. As the scarlet of the traffic light washes over them, Jack takes advantage of the stopped traffic to hold out a hand to her. “How about a truce, then? If we’re both sorry?”

Y/N considers his outstretched hand, then nods at last and shakes it. “I’m good with that. Let’s start over.”

“Let’s start over,” Jack repeats.

Her hand is still a little cold in his, even after the few minutes they’ve spent talking. It occurs to Jack that he could probably sit here for a while longer, warm her hands up with his, and then Y/N nudges him in the side and Jack realizes the light has turned green. He drops her hand hastily, turning back to the road in the hopes that she won’t notice the slow flush of heat to his cheeks.

The rest of the drive back is uneventful. Jack offers to walk Y/N to the door of her apartment complex, which Y/N jokingly calls creepy then smiles for real when he insists. They part with a promise to try harder next time, and Jack doesn’t think his feet have ever felt so light on the walk back from practice. He goes to bed that night like a little kid, practically giddy at the thought of the day ahead.

Looking back on it, Jack isn’t sure what he expected to happen with them after that. A celebration, maybe some fanfares? Or just a normal conversation in which she expressed how glad she was to see him and Jack could do the same? He doesn’t get any of that. In fact, they hardly see each other for most of the next few days. This isn’t too unexpected; although they love to complain, the players and media don’t see each other that often unless someone’s sworn on live TV or otherwise messed up their online presence.

Still, by the time Jack’s path finally crosses with Y/N’s, he’s really hoping for something special. He’s sort of crazy the whole time they’re filming videos, all raised eyebrows and hopeful glances, but instead of seizing the opportunity to make fun of him, Y/N just giggles a little and goes on with her life. It’s not bad, all things considered, but Jack– Jack wants more.

When hasn’t he, after all, wanted more? He wants to be better at skating. He wants to score more goals. He wants to stop getting brushed off by the commentators. He wants, more than anything, for some reason, for the pretty girl interning for their media department to do more than just look at him with a faint smile every now and then.

The sheer wanting starts to consume him. Jack goes out of his way to be exceptionally funny, astoundingly clever, practically fantastic in every way, yet nothing seems to wow Y/N. They’re just talking, which is certainly more than he had a few weeks ago, but Jack doesn’t want to just be talking to her, he wants to be back in his car again, with her leaning over and laughing at his jokes, her cold hands in his, telling him that maybe she’d misjudged him after all. Jack doesn’t just want more, he wants her, and that is making him insane.

Worse still is the fact that he doesn’t have her. Jack has spent his whole life, it feels like, hating the ‘pretty boy hockey player’ persona. He’s certain it’s cost him deals or trades or something over the years with the way people refuse to take him seriously. Yet now, Jack isn’t cursing its existence, but rather wondering why the hell it hasn’t worked. He’s still the same guy, same face. That stubborn acne patch on his chin has been clear for weeks now. He got a haircut, and people said it was good this time. Everything should be in his favor, looks-wise. So why doesn’t it seem to have a single effect?

It’s baffling, honestly. Jack cannot stand it. Worse still, the internship period is starting to slip away, and soon enough Y/N will be gone for good, leaving Jack to reel in her absence and wonder why he couldn’t make her like him enough to stay.

His mood sours whenever he thinks about it, which is often. Like now, even, in between Jack’s hours on the ice. They’re swapping out players in shifts, and Jack won’t be on for another five minutes or so. He’s sitting on one of the metal bleachers, hoping that watching the others will help keep his mind off things, but it’s not working too well.

Someone sits down right next to him, and Jack is about to start asking why they couldn’t pick anywhere fucking else to sit when he realizes it’s Y/N.

“Oh,” he says, trying desperately to sound cool and not bone-tired from practice, “Hey. D’you need another TikTok or something?”

“No TikToks,” Y/N says, smiling. “We can do a bonus one if you want, though, I know how much you love them.”

Jack chuckles. “They’ve been growing on me.” No reason why.

Y/N grins like she knows exactly what he’s thinking. “High praise. I hope you carry that spirit to the next social media intern, too.”

Jack sighs plaintively. “Do you really have to go? You fit in well, you know. You might as well stay a little longer.”

“That so?” Y/N asks, one eyebrow raised.

Jack looks away. “I don’t know. I heard some of the guys saying–”

Y/N cuts him off, lips twitching up into a smile. “I don’t care about the guys, Jack. What do you think?”

“I think you should stay,” Jack mumbles. He still can’t look her in the eyes. “With me.”

As soon as he says it, he knows it’s true. It doesn’t have to be through the Devils or not. He just wants Y/N with him for a while longer, to tease him when he’s being stupid and cheer for him during the games. He wants to hear her laugh longer than just the next few days. He wants to get coffee and buy flowers and match outfits and do a hundred things that would be special because he’d be doing them with her. That, more than anything, is what he wants.

A soft pressure on his hand; Jack looks up to realize Y/N has put her fingers over his, and squeezes slightly. He squeezes back by instinct.

“I want that too, Jack,” she tells him.

The smallest spark of luck is creeping back into his veins. “I thought you didn’t go for hotshot hockey players,” he says. “Especially not ones that flirted with the interns.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing slightly, so they’re okay. “I wasn’t supposed to do that. The idea was that I would try to avoid it.”

Jack grins. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Surprisingly badly,” Y/N confesses. “I’m not too mad about it, though. Something tells me we’re going to make this work out.”

“It will,” Jack promises. He’s going to make sure of it. Looking at Y/N, the light in her eyes when she smiles, Jack knows that he’s going to do everything in his power to keep her. He rubs his thumb over her hand, still in his, and cannot help but think about how lucky he is.

Y/N looks like she’s going to start blushing. “Let’s talk about this when all of your teammates aren’t watching,” she says suddenly.

Jack glances up and realizes that he’s on the receiving end of quite a few curious looks from the Devils still on the ice. Luke, especially, looks like he has several questions he wants to ask. Jack groans, mentally preparing himself for the absolute nuisance his little brother will become on the drive home.

Still, it doesn’t faze him for long. “How about we talk about it this Saturday?” Jack asks. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Y/N is breathtaking when she smiles at him. Jack might have to keep looking forever, just so he remembers. “I think that sounds alright to me.”

Jack opens his mouth to say something stupid like how he can’t wait, but the coach blows a whistle to usher him and some of the others back onto the ice, and Jack is saved from himself. “I’ll see you then,” he repeats somewhat needlessly.

Y/N nods, and Jack turns to leave. He’s still got most of his senses intact, despite evidence to the contrary, and Jack does know better than to kiss Y/N in front of his whole team and coach in the middle of practice, but– well, there’s a difference between what Jack knows and what Jack does, and today, he kisses her anyway. It’s good. Really good. Good enough to deal with the teasing when he finally makes it down to the ice. Good enough to keep him hooked until their date, and the next, and the next. Good enough for forever.

hockey tag list: @locke-writes

all tags list: @wordsarelife

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highvern · 10 months ago

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Burnt Coffee

Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x gn! Reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Running a cafe hadn’t been as glamorous as you initially believed. You loved your job; the cozy aroma of the different roasts, the hum of the espresso machine, the foam art you tediously practiced until a cute bear face stared back from the surface of a cappuccino. But any new shop comes with quirks, like the fire alarm that goes off almost every morning. Luckily, the fire station is just across the street and you unknowingly have one of the fireman wrapped around your finger.

Warnings: coffee shop owner reader, firefighter Hoshi, pockets of angst, crying, lots of mentions of food and coffee, firefighter jihoon and his baker gf, crying, kissing

Length: ~4.6k

Note: second valentine's fic! surprise! written for the Cupid For You Fic Exchange hosted by @svthub. Happy Valentine's @idyllic-ghost / @bee-buzzez !!! i hope its the cafe au of your dreams

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

“I’ve got an iced dirty chai with oat milk at the end of the bar!”

A sour-faced woman scoffs, “That isn’t what I ordered.”

“Well, is your name Samantha?”

“No.”

“Then it isn’t your order.”

The exchange between Seungkwan and the woman rings familiar. Sundays bring out the best in everyone it seems. But you're too busy handling the never ending line of drink tickets to scold him for poor customer service. Focusing on the machine, you pull shot after shot; inadvertently covering yourself in errant splashes of milk and coffee. The rush of the morning is still going strong but you hone into the rhythm and let your mind fall away from anything beyond the cups resting atop the counter next to you.

But as always, the steam from the milk frother continues to heat the space above; right where the over sensitive fire alarm was installed.

The shrill blaring freezes everyone in place. A few children scream in shock, making the vein on your temple throb. Your ears ring with each pulse as your head falls into your hands.

Every single morning since you opened Fika two months ago the alarm went off without fail.

And then he would show up like clockwork.

The bell attached to the wooden door chimes as Soonyoung breaks through the threshold of the cafe. Grimaced faces greet him. The shrill fire alarm with flash lights blares into the industrial space, bouncing off the walls to echo inanely.

“Earlier than usual.” Soonyoung chirps as he saunters past the line, easily rounding the bar to access the screeching piece of junk inconveniently placed above the espresso machine.

You step out of the way, face flat and mouth tense. “Busy day.” You explain.

The alarm cuts off as swift as it started, Soonyoung stepping back to smile down at you.

“I can hang around in case. Seems like that line isn’t going anywhere.”

“Yeah, sure. Do you want something to drink?” You offer stepping back to the line of cups littering the metal counter.

“Ooo, buying me drinks already? Aren’t you presumptuous?”

The wiggle of his eyebrows is meant to be suggestive but they only make him look like he ate a mouthful of sour candy.

“Nevermind.” You huff, stepping around the man as you grab the next cup in line and start working. “Go save a cat in a tree or something.”

Sensing your waning mood, Soonyoung cuts the act. “I’ll just have my regular.”

“You know where the cups are.”

A full cup of brewed coffee joins him on the opposite side of the counter. Soonyoung plants himself in his usual chair, chin resting on his curled fist as he watches you work your magic.

On slow days he’ll chat your ear off until the fire station calls him back. But on days like today, he’s content to in silence; obsessed with the sureness of your hands, the strong pout of your lips, and the way everything seems pulled into your gravity.

Maybe he has a crush on you.

Scratch that; Soonyoung definitely has a crush on you.

And everyone knows. His supervisor, Jihoon, knows. It’s why Soonyoung is always the one to come and fix the faulty alarm in the shop. His best friend, Seokmin, knows. It’s why Seokmin and his fiancee constantly batter him with texts about when he’ll ask you on a date. If someone went to space and looked down they could see how much he likes you without even trying.

You hit a lull and Soonyoung takes his chance. “Got any special plans this week?”

“We’re doing themed baked goods on Wednesday.” You call over your shoulder.

It’s not what Soonyoung was asking about but he takes it in stride.

Your employees also know about the fireman’s feelings. It’s why Seungkwan throws a pitying look his way along with a deformed muffin. Subtle rejection tastes like blueberries and brown sugar.

“Will you save me one?” Soonyoung asks.

“Is free coffee not enough?”

“Who said I wouldn’t pay for it?”

You never let Soonyoung pay for anything at the cafe. Despite how much he enjoys free food, it always makes him feel a bit guilty. It’s why you think he only drinks black coffee with a lethal amount of sugar when in reality he’d take some fancy espresso drink any day.

You laugh as you continue to work through the next batch of orders. “We’ll see if there are any left.”

“I’m a civil servant!”

“Serve in silence please!” Seungkwan barks, earning a few chuckles from the other customers sitting at the bar.

The back and forth continues and eventually the line dwindles to nothing as the morning lulls on. Soonyoung downs two more cups and manages to haggle Seungkwan for an overly toasted slice of banana bread with a singed corner he planned to throw out anyway.

The entire time Soonyoung watches you. Even covered in splashes of milk and coffee stains, he’s still enamored with you as you lean over the bar and jot notes in the ever expanding list of repairs and updates the shop needs.

And just when Soonyoung opens his mouth to say something, anything, the shrill beep of his phone cuts him off.

“Damn, I gotta head back.” He curses. “Just call if you need me again, okay?”

“Will do.”

You don’t even look up as he walks towards the door.

“Satan is one the phone for you.”

“Please be less specific.” You beg Seungkwan, grabbing the receiver still on hold.

“Bakery lady.”

Steeling yourself, you unmute the phone and bring it to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N?”

“Yes.”

“I was reviewing orders for Valentine’s. You're only doing the usual? I thought we talked about special items. I already bought the ingredients so if you changed your mind it’s putting me out of money.”

“No, we need at least two dozen of the cupcakes and two dozen of the cookies on top of our usual order.”

“That’s not what the order form says!” The old crone hawks through the line.

You ask her for a moment while pulling out your laptop and settling into a seat far away from the clusters of customers still strung throughout the cafe.

Wiping your face, you stare at the illuminated screen of your computer with the order form pulled up. “I have the form on my screen right now and it clearly says—”

“I don’t care what you’re looking at, it’s not what I have on my end!”

“Are you sure you’re looking at the form for Fika on Second street?”

“I’m telling you I’m—oh.”

The deflation in her tone pulls a smirk across your lips. “Hm?”

“Alright so two dozen red velvet cupcakes and two dozen heart sugar cookies?”

“Yep.”

“Alright, I’ll have it on Wednesday.”

“Thanks.”

Click.

The table shakes with the impact of your forehead. The clatter of your mug draws attention from the few customers around but none pay much attention.

“Everything okay?” A voice asks from above.

“Great. Wonderful.” You say into the wood.

“Good. Because the espresso machine is broken…again.”

You rise from your seat, face indecipherable as you walk past the counter, through the back storage area and into the alley behind the building.

Several seconds pass before you release a guttural scream. It's gritty, ripping apart your throat as all bubbling exhaustion breaches your lips. The noise echos between the brick walls before escaping to the sky above. Several pigeons flee to the rooftops for safety while mice and other vermin scuffle along the walls in terror.

Seungkwan watches from the door, eyes wide as you continue to belt for the trash bags and city rats witnessing your meltdown.

Your voice fizzles as you run out of air. Closing your eyes, you take two deep breaths. Inhaling the scent of stale storm water and whatever else perfumes the back alley until the stretch of your lungs burns from the inside out.

And then you turn and walk back inside as if the entire thing never happened.

The block is only illuminated by streetlights at this hour. Not even the earliest of early birds litter the narrow sidewalk as you push into the empty cafe and begin prepping for the Monday morning rush. The smell of fresh coffee fills the air, the whir of the grinder harmonizing with the jazz playlist curling down from the speakers.

The calm before the storm.

Slowly the first shift employees trickle in just before opening; relieving you to commandeer the office slash storage room in the back, intent on knocking out the mountain of paperwork and following up with the repair man about the alarm he said he would be back to fix last week. But first, the phone blinking with unread messages.

“This is Megan. We’ve been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warr—”

Message deleted.

The next message is a young man reporting his credit card missing and visiting your shop. You call and let his voicemail know no one has seen anything but you hope he figures it out.

“Hi Y/N. This is Cheryl with Harmony Bakers. Just wanted to let you know I won’t be able to get that special order for Valentine’s Day. Or your regular order for tomorrow. We’ve decided to close up shop. Sorry about the inconvenience.”

The words don’t hit at first. But your brain slowly catches up to what Cheryl is saying. Canceling. She’s canceling two days before Valentine’s.

Your attempts to return her call fall flat. Six tries and all ring once before dropping into an automated message reporting her voicemail is full, no doubt from the other shops she’s also shafted with the impulsive decision.

No holiday treats. No regular food items. No back up. No plan B.

Failure, failure, failu—

The pad of paper littered with notes sails into the not so far wall only to slap against the plaster and slip to the ground.

You can only focus on one problem at a time. Or at least the problem whose solution won’t send you to jail. And that means heading to the front where the day is starting to pick up.

The boys have things under control but the line is lengthening and you’re a great way to relieve the pressure. Immediately an invisible song pulls you into the rhythm of their work; drinks and food hit the end of the bar almost as fast as the orders came in.

Soonyoung comes in and waits at the counter as usual. The alarm seems to be granting mercy given the horrible state of affairs from this morning.

The customers not so much.

“God, how stupid are you that you messed up a simple order? It’s a fucking americano and you made it taste like ass.”

The man standing at the end of the bar, hands flat on the counter in an attempt to physically dominate the space, always complains. His iced drinks are too cold, his hot drinks are too hot, the weather is bad, taxes are too high, the list continues on and on. And somehow it's always your fault.

Usually its little barbs under his breath but today he’s out for blood and you’ve already had enough.

Your teeth grit together so hard it feels like the forced smile plastered on your face might crack them into dusk. “Like I said, I can remake it for you if you’d lik—”

“Why would I want you to remake it? You clearly have no idea what you’re doing. Get someone else.”

“I got it.” Seungcheol steps forward.

The older man gives him an apprehensive look. Seungcheol is harmless but he knows how to be scary when he wants to be.

“I’m gonna go…restock something…” you warble, all but sprinting to the back.

Plastic sleeves of cups and boxes of straws bear witness to your breakdown. The six am tantrum clouds in and your carefully built dam of control explodes. Hot tears streak your cheeks, dripping off the jut of your chin with every gasping breath from the knot in your throat tangling tighter and tighter. All you can hear are ugly gasping breaths as you rock back and forth in the dark.

The sliver of light spilling in from the cracked door doesn’t register given the way your face is buried in your hands. Soonyoung has half a mind to pretend he never entered the cramped space. He’s never seen you so… small.

A shrill squeak of the hinge alert you to the new presence. Bloodshot eyes find his wide ones and you swipe at your face to hide the evidence of your distress. You go to speak but barely manage a croak before the tears come again.

“Shit,” Soonyoung whispers. “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

The warmth of his chest makes you cry harder, tears spilling onto his neck as you hide from the world. He smooths the flat of his palm across your back.

It's anyone’s guess how long you stay there. Soonyoung’s cheek rests on the top of your head, arms firm around your shoulders. The faint smell of smoke tickles your nose. Smoke and pine from his cologne. It tethers your mind, lulling the frantic breakdown and giving you something to focus on other than how horrible the day has become in the span of a few hours.

No baked goods. Horrible customers. And now you’re being held by the handsome fighter from next door with snot dripping from your nose.

Soonyoung hesitates when you shift in his hold, arms tightening for a second in case another bout of tears crops up. But you pull far enough away to send an embarrassed grimace his way before looking anywhere else.

“Sorry.” You say, turning to snatch napkins from the shelf next to you.

His hand continues to rub your shoulders as you dab your eyes and blow your nose.

“It’s okay. That guy was a jerk.”

“I don’t care what he said.”

Soonyoung stares in disbelief, waiting for you to continue.

“My baker canceled on me, and the espresso machine is held together with duct tape, and there's a million other things going wrong, not to mention the fire alarm. And I just…”

Squeezing your eyes tight to prevent the moisture swelling in the corners proves unhelpful. To Soonyoung’s credit he stays silent, allowing you all the time you need to get your thoughts in order. But the hand on your back continuing to trace abstract shapes between your shoulder blades lets you know he’s there when you’re ready.

“It’s just been a rough week.” You say to the floor.

The admission lifts the ten pound weight off your chest. Soonyoung isn’t an employee you need to guarantee everything is okay to or a customer requiring a mask. He’s a…friend? It feels generous but if he was anything less you doubt he’d be where he is now.

“Is there any way I can help?”

You blow your nose into the tissue before laughing wetly. “I don’t suppose you have a magic wand, do you?”

“Just broke mine actually.” He winces sarcastically.

What’s another thing on your never ending to-do list? Along with the desperate need to buy more supplies for tomorrow, how difficult can it be to conjure artisan baked goods out of thin air?

“Actually,” Soonyoung perks. “Jihoon’s girlfriend works at a bakery. Pete’s? No, wait. Penny’s?”

“Petunia’s?”

“That’s the one! Maybe I can ask her if she can help?”

“Good luck.” You snort. “They couldn’t even fit me into their normal rotation.”

“We won’t know until we ask!” He chips, thrilled he can help.

Soonyoung jumps up, a cruel chill invading the space he once occupied. Like the sun moving behind a cloud and leaving you at the mercy of a cool breeze; there and gone before you can delve into what it means.

You hand him the order form you usually give your baker to relay to Jihoon’s girlfriend. While he steps out to ask for a miracle you focus on tallying how many cups, napkins, lids, and other miscellaneous items you need from the supply store across town. A few lone tears appear, falling without much preamble but the worst is out and stained on Soonyoung’s shoulder. You’ll get through it. With Soonyoung’s help you’ll get past everything, even if his efforts fall flat.

Seungcheol and Seungkwan confirm they’ve got things under control as you take your leave. Soonyoung is just visible in the dissipating morning fog hanging in the street. He paces the sidewalk, speaking into his phone animatedly before spotting you trying to sneak past him to your car.

“Thank you! You’re the best!” He cheers before hanging up and pocketing his phone.

“So?”

“They’ll do it! One of the other shops dropped out last minute and they have a lot of extras. Maybe not all the usual stuff but Rita said she can pull together most of the stuff on the form.”

Body frozen, you stare at Soonyoung with an open mouth and eyes wide. There’s no way he solved half your workload with one phone call.

“She also said they can try and work you into their usual orders. If that’s something you’re interested in…” Soonyoung trails off, glancing at you nervously.

In a blink your back in his arms, squeezing him so hard your arms hurt.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” You chant into his chest.

“Of course.”

Stepping back, you blush at your own impulsiveness.

“Um, well…” you fumble, clearing your throat you get back to the task at hand. “I need to run to the store so I’ll see you later.”

“I can come!”

“No! I mean, you’ve already helped so much. I’d feel bad dragging you along.”

“Don’t worry about me, I'm just trying to make sure you don’t start crying again and cause an accident.”

“Okay, rude.”

Soonyoung ignores you, already strutting down the street.

“Your cars this way, right?”

“No.”

“Listen, I wanna come with you. I have nothing else to do today.”

“Cool,” You laugh, continuing the opposite direction Soonyoung headed. “but my car is still this way.”

The drive is pleasant. You learn more about Soonyoung in the thirty minutes it takes to get across town than you’ve learned in the weeks he’s been coming to the cafe. He has an older sister, he likes to volunteer at the youth center down the street in his time off, and he cannot work a computer if his life depends on it. You also learn more about his coworker turned best friend who also happens to be the boyfriend of your new god.

“Yeah Jihoon and I started the same day. He comes off kinda cold but it's all an act.”

“Oh, really?” You laugh, pulling into a cramped parking spot.

“One hundred percent. You should see him with Rita. I never saw him blush that much until they started dating.”

“How’d they meet?”

“Funny story.” Soonyoung shares, climbing out of the passenger seat. “So the bakery she worked at before had a fire. No one was hurt and they put it out before we even got there! But we went to make sure everything was clear. Well, Rita was there and I swear it was love at first sight for him.”

“That’s sweet.”

You both make your way inside the sliding doors; Soonyoung pushing a flat cart behind you through the aisles.

“He’s definitely mellowed out since he met her. Doesn’t work as much, thank god.”

“What about your girlfriend? Do you guys have the same Hallmark meet cute?”

“Oh! I don’t have a girlfriend.” Soonyoung mumbles, ears turning scarlett.

Your face heats as well. Whatever force compelled you to ask such a prying question revels in satisfaction to hear Soonyoung is in fact single. A tidbit of information you’ve never wondered about before.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you anything for today.” Rita says as she helps unpack everything onto the counter.

The cafe is scarce of customers, far past closing time but Rita said they’d be too busy delivering to their other customers in the morning to spare a trip to you. What's another Tuesday at the shop? It isn't like you have time for much of a social life given the million things you need to do.

“Really don’t worry about it. You're saving my life by getting me this stuff for tomorrow.”

“Well Soonyoung made a bargain I couldn’t refuse.”

You pause for a moment. Soonyoung didn't mention anything beyond the payment Rita quoted and later sent via email. Did he promise something from the shop on your behalf?

Swallowing the budding annoyance, you continue to work like nothing is wrong. “Oh?”

“I mean an entire month of covering Jihoon’s shifts? What kind of person passes that up?”

What?

Soonyoung offered to sacrifice all his free time to help you. Soonyoung who you barely know beyond the fact that he pretends to like black coffee. The man chews with his mouth open. Soonyoung who let you ruin his sweater with tears and snot from a horrible day.

“You didn’t know?” Rita asks, face full of mirth.

“Ugh, no,” you cough. “He didn’t tell me that.”

“I was shocked when he offered. He wouldn’t do that for just anyone.”

But he did it for you.

“Yeah.”

“Y/N?”

You find Rita smiling like she knows some big secret. If you had to guess, it's probably the same thing you're realizing now.

“Soonyoung’s a great guy.”

Words fail you because you know Soonyoung is a great guy. He held you when you cried, he comes in everyday without fail to turn off the alarm, and he just sacrificed a month of his life because it would help you.

Once you and Rita unpack the remaining cookies and cakes, she takes her leave but not before dropping another wink when she spots Soonyoung approaching from the direction of the fire house.

“Rita.” he greets at the door, holding it open for her exit.

“Hosh.”

And she’s gone without another word.

“How’s it going?” Soonyoung asks, rounding the counter to join you.

“Great!” You blurt with too much enthusiasm. “Rita ended up making everything we needed.”

A second set of hands assists in packing the glass display case in preparation for tomorrow's chaos. Soonyoung listens well. Patient to a T as you direct him to tweak things just so from the opposite side of the bar.

“Thank you for all your help this week. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you weren’t here to help.”

He continues to unpack the few remaining goods beneath the counter as he responds. “It’s not a big deal. What are friends for?”

“Hmm and you agree to cover all of Jihoon’s shifts for your friends?”

Leaning back against the opposite counter, you watch Soonyoung’s shoulder tense and his ears erupt into bright red. He’s so still he doesn’t even seem to be breathing at the shock of being caught. Each passing second heightens the smirk curling your lips.

“Oh, you heard about that?” He asks into the counter.

You saddle up beside him, dropping your head until his eyes meet your own. Each inch of space you claim next to him sends him away like an opposing magnet; until your sandwich between him and the hardwood.

“Yeah, I heard.”

Soonyoung backs away nervously but not before you catch the way his eyes cut to your mouth. Who knew all it took is a smile and batting your eyelashes to make chatty Soonyoung clam up? The shyness bubbling on the edge of your conscious fizzles with the new knowledge; instead, curiosity takes its place. How much more can you make him blush? What would he do if you grabbed his hand? Or if you took a chance and kissed him?

“Soonyoung?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you have a crush on me?” You smile around each word.

He opens his mouth to argue but it's moot with the way you gaze at him, eyes shining with mirth. Like you're laughing at some shared joke. Soonyoung will tell you whatever truths you want to hear if it means you’ll keep looking at him like that.

“Yeah.” Soonyoung whispers so quietly you almost don’t hear him.

“Good.”

You step into his space with finality, chests brushing with each breath.

“Good?”

The edge of your teeth pinning your lip down is the only thing preventing a smile from ripping across your face as you answer. “Because I have a crush on you too.”

“Oh…” He nods, head dropping dejectedly and then it hits him and whips back up so fast his eyeballs rattle. “OH. You do?”

He watches you nod, slowly angling himself to connect your lips. When Soonyoung realizes you aren’t going to push him away, evident by the hand fisted in his sweater, he goes for it.

The curve of your lip, the breathy sigh you release into his mouth, the way you seem to go boneless with each pass are all committed to his memory. Soonyoung reminds himself to be good. That this is the first time he’s kissing you and he should be a gentleman; gentle, chaste, respectful.

And he would succeed but you’re acting like you have no interest in any of those things. You whisper another heavenly sigh into his mouth, trailing a hand in the short strands of hair at the base of his skull forcing Soonyoung to focus on batting away the demons at the edge of his mind rather than giving into temptation.

But when you tug to angle his head better the delicious sting drowns Soonyoung so quickly he has you pinned to the counter before he realizes what's happening.

Sometime later, when your lips are swollen and the floor sways beneath you from the flood of giddiness coursing through your veins, you and Soonyoung part. The crisp air of the late night tries in vain to nip at your face but you’re too distracted by the calluses on the side of Soonyoung’s thumb and the way they rasp against your knuckles as he walks you to your car.

The cafe is in full swing by the time Soonyoung comes in Wednesday morning.

All morning he paced across the cramped common room of the fire station. Sure you let him kiss you but what did it all mean? He knows you like him but did you like like him or just like him? Should he have asked you on a date? Would that be too forward? Did he mess things up by not immediately asking you out despite the fact he was so love drunk he ran into a pole after watching you drive off?

He fights the idea of running across the street and demanding answers. You’re definitely too busy to spare a second and tame the butterflies in his stomach. And how pathetic would he look if he asked you to explicitly dictate how you feel so no wires end up cross? And on Valentine’s day no less?

Luckily, he’s saved by the bell. Or rather the fire alarm.

He watches you work like a tornado, pausing only to smile at him the same way you did last night when he did not so safe for work things against the very counter lined with coffee cups and steaming mugs. Flashes of memory heat across his face.

You thank him with his usual coffee and one of the cupcakes you set aside just for him. Except this time his paper cup is scribbled with a heart and something else.

Be my Valentine? _Yes _ Also Yes _ YES BUT LOUD

At some point he should tell you about the sensitivity setting on the alarm and how all you need to do is nudge the tiny lever to the right if you don't want it going off every time the steam builds up. But the way you beam at him when he steals the sharpie from behind your ear and checks all three boxes on the cup makes Soonyoung decide it’s a secret he’ll keep for now.

@cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @tomodachiii @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @gyuguys @primoppang @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe

#svthub #svthub.collab #kvanity #kwon soonyoung #hoshi #kwon soonyoung fluff #hoshi fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt x reader #soonyoung x reader #hoshi x reader #svt #svt fluff #seventeen #🫡 highvern

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loves4ge · 3 months ago

Text

celebrity!au, mlist for more celebrity gojo

you're not sure what to do with gojo satoru. not after your agent asks if you'd be in a publicity stunt centered around him. you've never done one before; after all, you're only an up-and-coming star.

before this movie, you were considered a nobody, just someone to fill in the background. you'd heard horror stories, absolute bloodbaths on set, rumors of things that happened that violated the geneva conventions. you suppose you were lucky to end up starring in a movie with a cast that was nothing short of nice.

and then there's gojo, your on-screen love interest. an a-list celebrity. he's been on the cover of every major magazine at least once. and maybe you sort of admire him (you'd never tell him that; his ego is already through the roof). i mean, who could blame you?

but right now, you're rethinking everything. sure, you're an actor, and a pretty darn good one, but you're inexperienced. your heart hasn't been hardened by the industry yet. if you take this opportunity, you know you'll get absolutely wrecked. really? fake dating gojo satoru?

your agent looks at you expectantly. "we won't go through with it if you don't want to. we're only doing this because of sukuna's dui, but the publicity team can come up with something else."

you don't really like sukuna; he has scary eyes. but there's something warm about him when he interacts with yuji. you feel bad.

"i'll do it."

BREAKING NEWS: GOJO SATORU AND CO-STAR Y/N ANNOUNCE THEY'RE DATING A WEEK BEFORE THE RELEASE OF THEIR NEW MOVIE.

"that's a wordy headline, isn't it?" gojo mutters, mostly to himself, as he sips on an iced latte. it's so white, it could be mistaken for milk.

"show me?" you ask softly, seated across from him in the mostly empty cafe. the paparazzi are obvious with their pictures, and you both strategically sit in places where you can be photographed.

gojo flips his phone around to show the article, stilling when your fingers brush against his hand as you take the phone from him. he shakes it off quickly and returns to his latte.

"oh wow, this is ridiculous. they think i've been dating you since the start of filming." you look up at him with big, round eyes and a smile as soft as clouds (gojo isn't sure where that analogy comes from; he's never touched a cloud).

"well, is it really that ridiculous?" his murmur is low as he leans back in his chair. he thought you were pretty from the start. did he come off as arrogant? oh no, now he'll never stop thinking about this.

"hm?" you look up, since you didn't hear his murmur clearly. he waves you off. and then you remember.

"um, you know, oh i feel so awkward saying this," your hesitation makes him straighten. his eyes are narrowed in concern, hands reaching out in comfort but never quite touching you.

"you can tell me anything, you know that," he says, maintaining eye contact with you which is hard considering you're trying to look anywhere but him.

"i was just, i know we have to kiss... at some point. but i would just, erm, i would like a heads up before. oh, well, before you do kiss me." gojo felt his heart explode about three times in the time it took you to finish that sentence. and his grin doubled. it stretched ear to ear like a goddamn cheshire cat.

you were still looking down, fidgeting with your hands when gojo dragged his chair to be nearer to you.

"hey? this is the heads up by the way." you barely have any time to react. you're about to protest, say something, anything when his lips touch yours.

it's a gentle touch. you've kissed him before, on set, but never like this. yeah, this is a performance too but it felt too real. there's no director counting down to time the kiss and the cameras are too far away for you to even notice them.

his hands tighten against your waist, and yours somehow make it to the back of his neck. then upwards, in his hair. he bites your lower lip, and you gasp, almost pulling back but he pulls you back in harder. this time his kiss is not so gentle.

the press is gonna have a field day with this.

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curi0us-gh0st · 1 year ago

Note

Hi! May I please request dating headcanons (sfw and nsfw) for Choi Mujin and Gangjae (separately) with a female reader who is not in a gang but works as a office worker? Thank you ❤️

Love in the Office (Choi Mujin x Do Gangjae)

pairings: Choi Mujin x Fem!Reader!Secretary, Do Gangjae x Fem!Reader!Secretary

word count: 0.8k

genre: fluffy, smut

warnings: voyeurism, fuck in anger, protuberance, blowjob (let me know if something went unnoticed)

a/n: I know it took me a while, so I was without internet and had some delays, I'm writing the other requests, sorry for the delay!

Choi Mujin

★ When you walked into the office to be his secretary, you didn't know that he was a mobster who had been wanted for years, that's for sure.

★ You were so polite and kind to everyone in the company that some even felt bad about you working for them in such a violent industry.

★ Mujin was proud of how you decorated his favorite cafe, how he liked things and organized his appointment schedule.

★ He also felt a little jealous seeing some of your boys asking you out or singing you, of course, in those tight skirts you wore exposing your legs so wonderful and your blouses tight or almost transparent that there was no drool on your breasts.

★ When one day, after a fight, he arrived furious, hurt and frustrated, opening the doors violently and cursing God and the world. His eyes fell on her gentle and calm being sitting in his chair while delegating some activities, looking at him shocked by the sight of his injured boss, jumping to help him.

★ Mincing no words, he grabbed his face, kissing him fiercely, waiting for you to fight but you didn't, just melting into the kiss, blushing when he pulled away with a smug smile on his face. He didn't care about his security guard seeing them, just pushing you against the table to see under your skirt.

★ He pushed your chest against the table, lifting your skirt, revealing your pert ass and a stain on your panties, mocking him for not even touching you yet and you're wet for him; He runs his fingers over your panties, teasing you until you moan and ask for more.

★ He ripped your panties off, throwing them in some corner of your own office and taking his big, thick dick out, spraying pre cum, teasing your slobbery entrance until he completely shoved his dick inside you and pounded into you.

★ Him hitting you so deep, pulling your neck to rest against his chest so he could rip off your formal blouse and expose your breasts, pinching and pulling, until they were red and sensitive; Moving one of his hands down to his stomach, a small bulge could be seen in the area.

★ He kissed your neck and shoulders, marking you as his and his alone, making you squirt as he shot jets of cum inside you. In the end, you were destroyed by him, just being used to relieve your stress, there would be times when he would be romantic, but right now, that's not the case. ^^

Do Gangjae

★ We all know how Gangjae is, presumptuous, arrogant and envious. He knew he couldn't touch his boss's secretary, because she was his daughter and maybe whoever touched her would die as soon as she did, but for him, the limit is the sky.

★ He sang to you every time he saw you, asked you out and even gave you some gifts, which certainly made you a blushing and grateful mess.

★ He even left notes when he passed by her table, saying how hot and provocative she looked in those tight formal clothes.

★ When he had the opportunity to be alone with you, he liked to touch your shoulders, waist and chin, complimenting you, flirting and even asking you about what he was doing.

★ That was until he chased you while you were going to the file room, the tiny hallways full of shelves of company files and documents. You were startled when you saw him standing there when you were wanting to leave, a smile plastering his face before he kissed you, teasingly as he said, “I knew you were crazy about this, me too.”

★ He pinned you to one of the shelves, kissing you fiercely, licking your lips to enter with his tongue making you moan with the friction. He walked away, panting while smiling, making you kneel.

★ Caressing your pretty face, your teary eyes and red lips, as he unzipped your pants, making his dick pop out hitting your cheek, him laughing as he rubbed his dick against your lips, telling you to be a good girl and suck him.

★ So you did, opening your mouth and little by little swallowing his fat cock, your movements slow, your eyes watering, he sighs because your mouth is so hot and wet, imagine your pussy.

★ He grabbed your strands of hair, keeping your head still as he began pounding into your mouth, seeking your climax, moaning how much of a slut you were for giving him a blowjob, making your core clench into nothingness, you were so wet ..

★ He came in her mouth while moaning, spilling cum down her throat and leaking out the sides of her mouth, grabbing her chin to swallow it all and sticking out his tongue to prove it. He smiled, lifting you brutally from the floor and lifting your skirt, ripping your panties, you spent long hours in that file room and when you left, your father's security guard asked if you were okay because you were tripping while walking, little did he know that the boy your father hates the most fucked you mercilessly.

#👻 gh0st headcanons !#fluffy #smut #kdrama #kdrama smut #my name #choi mujin #choi mujin x reader #do gangjae #do gangjae x reader

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ladyveronikawrites · 3 months ago

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In Your Eyes I See City Lights

Nicholas Ruffilo & Gender Neutral Reader

A little treat for @deathblacksmoke Blurb inspired from this moodboard Just a lot of fluff, please enjoy💛 word count: 667

It’s been one hell of a work week for you, and all you want to do is collapse on the sofa and snuggle up with your boyfriend. You toss your bag on the floor, and just as you are about to slip out of your shoes, Nick hands you your favorite pair of sneakers and his jacket��the same denim jacket he wore on your first date all those years ago.

“Where are w-” A slender tattooed finger pressed against your lips silences you, but you take his outstretched hand instead.

“Let me show you.”

As the cool autumnal air breezes past you, you wrap his jacket tighter around yourself. Hands entwined Nick leads you down the sidewalk into the city. The car lights glow against the remaining puddles on the asphalt. It’s been rainy and cloudy for days now and at times, now more than ever you miss the sun. The dark cold winter days on the east coast are looming. Fresh air in your lungs and your love by your side was just what you needed. Snuggling up against him, he finally breaks the comforting silence. “Almost there, my love.”

Looking over at him, his stunning blue-grey eyes light up and you follow his gaze to the new cafe. There’s an old traffic light lit up green when you walk into the cafe, damp sneakers squeaking along the concrete floor. You take it all the sights, the industrial metal chairs at the counter, road signs decorating the crisp white walls, and the fairy lights hanging from the open glass-paned garage door. “This used to be a motorcycle shop,” Nick says lowly into your ear as your attention returns to him.

“What did you order us?” you ask as Nick uncurls himself from your embrace. “For you a Vietnamese cold brew and a Thai bubble tea for me.” He grins handing you your drink and clinks your plastic cups together.

“Dork.”

“I know,” he says proudly. “And you love it.” He leans down to press a tender kiss to your lips.

“I do.” You smile back at him.

“C’mon.” He links elbows with you and leads you to your next destination.

Your drinks have long been finished by the time you stroll into the bar. You haven’t been here since the band had their first gig all those years ago. The band has skyrocketed in popularity recently and it makes you dizzy just thinking about it. But Nicky has always stayed the same; the quiet gentleman that opens all your door to the rowdy nerd when his character dies in a video game. He’s always creating and looking at the world around him for inspiration. When he’s home from tour or the tattoo shop he spends his time with you and his cats.

“Thank you,” you say reaching for his hands across the table. In the dim light of night, his eyes reflect the moon. He looks at your hands before lacing his fingers between yours.

“Of course, doll. I know you’ve been working a lot these past few weeks and I am so proud of you, but you also need to take care of yourself.” He smiles softly at you as you take in his words, sometimes you feel like you don’t deserve his kindness and generosity especially when you’ve been so worn down.

A gentle squeeze of your hands pulls you from your spiraling thoughts.

“You know that I love you, right?” His cheeks flush a little and he suddenly gets shy when you look up at him. Like he still needs to pinch himself to remind him that you are real and that he is still the luckiest guy on earth to get to spend every day with you.

“Yeah, I know.” You squeeze him back wishing you could punch him in the arm for getting sappy. But you know it's sincere. And you need the reminder too, that despite how crazy life can get that he still loves you.

“I love you too.”

tysm for reading 💜 dividers @saradika-graphics

👑Royal Readers👑

@deathblacksmoke @mysticdoodlez @sitkowski @snarkysolaris @collapsedglasshouses @shilohrosechicken

@cookiesupplier @iknownothingpeople @dominuslunae @agravemisstake @the-ancient-fae

@itsafullmoon @philomenie @th4t-em0-k1d @baddestomens @rumoured-whispers

@blackveilomens @sorrowsofsilence @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @theanarchymuse95 @lobolocaamo

Please show your support with a reblog! If you want to be a part of Royal Readers👑 (tag list) please fill out this form OR you can leave a comment or send me a DM - whichever you prefer💜

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #nicholas ruffilo fanfiction #nicholas ruffilo fanfic #nicholas ruffilo fic #nicholas ruffilo blurb #nicholas ruffilo x reader #nicholas ruffilo x gender neutral reader #ladyveronikawrites

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strawberrystepmom · 1 year ago

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malevolent enterprise ch. 3

ceo au series. sukuna and yuji are brothers. gojo x f!reader are endgame. reader is a lawyer and our freshly introduced journalist and sukuna are hooking up which leads to a tense discussion. cw: suggestive discussions. wc 1.4k.

divider thanks to @/cafekitsune | masterlist

Tasked once again with cleaning up Sukuna’s messes, you wiggle your foot impatiently and glance at your watch, shifting your gaze from there to around the crowded cafe, looking for the woman of the hour who was supposed to have arrived five minutes ago.

You were early, of course, as is your overly accommodating nature. After spending time scoping out tables for any potential eavesdroppers or hired corporate espionage, you were satisfied with your inspection of people less than interested by you clicking across the floor and ordering a cup of Earl Gray. No one here gives a shit what’s happening at Ryomen Industries except for you and the little pink princess you’re so desperately trying to legally bind to keep her mouth shut on Ryomen Industries behalf.

Jiggling your ankle, you narrow your eyes and search again, pursed lips curling into a demure smile as you stand and wave the journalist in your direction. She’s pretty, something you already knew to be true despite only seeing her in passing a couple of times, even more so in casual pants and a sweater. A half wave is her response and she makes her way through the people moving from the counter to the tables across the cafe.

“Thank you for coming.”

“I apologize for being late, the train ran slightly off schedule today.”

You try to hide your surprise at the lack of warmth in her voice but given the task she’s here to do, you can hardly blame her. Nobody wants to meet with a lawyer in broad daylight to sign paperwork, much less something that could jeopardize the integrity of an investigation she has invested months into.

“I understand. Some things end up being truly out of your control no matter who you are.” Your smile is so measured she fights the urge to shiver, unsurprised that someone like you is heading up the legal department at Sukuna’s new company.

The journalist has a perspective you lack about the man, though, and that’s who he is when the lights are low. She knows him intimately and this is dangerous knowledge to have about a man who is known for being as ruthless in a boardroom as he is devilish at a nightclub. He’s a wildcard in every sense of the word and that’s why you have to protect not simply the company that employs you but him, too.

The things we do for our friends.

She pulls out the chair opposite you and you offer another tight smile, clasping your fingers and placing your hands on the table in front of you.

“I just have a few things I want to go over and then you will be able to have your day back.” She nods and looks around, waiting for a waitress to pass to order a drink.

“I know you had some questions so allow me to clarify.” You pick up a dark colored folder, tapping your nails against the cover. “These documents have no impact on the things you’ve discovered through traditional journalistic means about Sukuna and anything he has told you on the record is fair game.”

She turns her gaze back to you, eyes so pretty you understand immediately what your boss sees in her. Nodding her response, you wrap your fingers around your teacup and lift it from the plate in front of you, holding it inches from your mouth.

“We know what kind of man he is when it comes to his personal life. He’s a serial philanderer, he has destroyed every hotel room he has ever stayed in, he…”

You trail off when her gaze turns icy and remains locked on you.

“If he’s so horrible, how can you stomach working for him?”

Tendrils of steam rise from your tea cup and you blow on them, pursing your lips and sniffing the lavender note in the tea itself to calm yourself before you really show your ass in front of everyone in this cafe. You exhale sharply through your nose, amused, and meet her glance with a flat glare of your own.

“Well, only one of us is here to sign legal documents promising not to publish his tip color and girth in whatever newspaper you work for so I could ask you the same question.”

Lifting the mug to your mouth, you blow and the steam dissipates but does little to cover the evident offense on the other woman’s face. Immediately, you feel bad and sip your tea quickly and swallow even faster, setting the cup back down in front of you. The journalist plays with her silverware, tracing the curves of the handle of a spoon with her index finger, attempting to avoid making eye contact with you. She’s an impressive woman in her own right, an award winner in her field, and you feel like your boss is rubbing off on you too much these days. He’s an asshole but he hired you specifically not to be so you humbly clear your throat and rub your thumb over the tip of your nose.

“I’m sorry, that was not a very nice thing to say and I’m not here to judge you about who you bed.”

She nods in disbelief and you know you have it coming. That wasn’t exactly your best moment as a person.

“I need you to sign this to protect yourself,” you clarify. “If we don’t get this figured out, anything you say that he doesn’t like could come back to bite you and he changes his mind quickly.”

This is of course an offensive way to tell someone that he will eventually grow tired of them but you know it’s the truth and mincing words will only prolong her trepidation in getting this over with. You can’t sugarcoat the truth any further and looking into the earnest and sweet face of the woman across from you, you soften further and slump forward with a sigh.

“I want to make sure nothing happens to you in all of this. Your career is too valuable to risk it over him.”

She looks at you, searching your face for hints of further deception or malice and finds none. Leaning back into her chair, she folds her arms over her chest and chews the inside of her cheek, the waitress she has been searching for still tending to the tables around the two of you.

“I’d like to have my own legal counsel review the document before signing it.”

It’s a loss as far as completing the task Sukuna commanded goes but it’s a win otherwise as far as you’re concerned and you pass the folder across the table in her direction. She unfolds her arms and grabs the edge of the folder, dragging it toward her body and looking around the room as if she’s concerned more of his goons will approach her.

With the document passed off, you lift your tea to your mouth and sip once again, stomach turning slightly despite the warm wash over your tongue. You swallow and force another tight lipped smile.

“Thank you again. I know this is weird but I’m not your enemy.”

You don’t know why you feel the need to tell her that but something tells you, a gut feeling perhaps, that this is far from the last time the two of you will be seeing each other. She nods and rises from her seat, quietly shoving it out behind her. You stop her before she walks away and tap the cover of the folder.

“My card is in there. Call me if you have questions, day or night.”

The offer is a peace offering above all and it has to be obvious. She raises her brow curiously, nodding with a smile.

“We’ll see if I have to take you up on it. Take care.”

Offering a half wave, you watch as she rounds the table and heads toward the door. Finally you release your caught breath, the air enough to rustle the napkins on the table in front of you. Picking your phone up from the table, you groan when you’re greeted with three missed calls and ten new messages in the chat between you and your personal assistant.

Toge: hi come back he’s rampaging and no one knows why he broke a chair

Toge: also u have flowers at my desk…whose 🐓 have u been sucking

Toge: damn these rnt even roses these r nice flowers 🪻🌸🌷

You scroll through the next several messages, rolling your eyes until you look at the one most recently sent and you freeze in place.

Toge: LOL GOJOS HEREEEEEE!!!!!!! come get ur man!!!!

Closing your phone, you lift your tea cup and sip for another luxurious few seconds before packing up and heading back to whatever hell awaits you at Ryomen Industries.

#kendall writes #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #malevolent enterprise

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gvfgal · 2 years ago

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The Art of Life: Part Four

Part Three

18+, minors evaporate!!

A/n: FINAL PART IS HERE!!! This was a fun cute little series to write, and I’m definitely gonna write a cute little smutty epilogue (because there clearly wasn’t enough in the story). BUT ITS DEFINITELY NOT OVER, I STILL HAVE SOME TRICKS UP MY SLEEVE 😏 But for now, enjoy.

Warnings: Brief mentions of sexual content, little angst, big fat happy ending!

Word Count: 3.5k

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

One month later…

Josh had pretty much accepted the fact that he’d never see you again, other than on the big screen that was waiting to broadcast his film to the hundreds of festival attendees.

He knew what you said that night in your apartment, “we both deserve someone who can be there for us…”, but he was a fool for taking it so literally. That night, your mouth said one thing, but your eyes were telling a completely different story, and it was the one he really should’ve listened to.

But instead, he went and completely ruined the best thing that happened to him, all for some girl that couldn’t even compare to you. It lasted all of a week before they went their separate ways.

It had been a hard month leading up to the festival, Josh getting little sleep due to him putting finishing touches on his project and beating himself up for the careless mistake he made. The look on your face when you saw him at the cafe haunted him whenever he closed his eyes.

He felt drained, all he wanted to do was sleep, but the much anticipated night had finally arrived, so he’d have to hold on just a little while longer.

The field that the festival was being held in was bursting at the seams with life, students, their families, and well known figures in the New York film industry poured in as the various screens scattered about played different projects that his peers worked tirelessly on.

Josh’s family was somewhere in the crowd, and he spent a little time strolling with them before wandering off by himself for a moment of peace and (somewhat) quiet before his showing.

Since they’d arrived a couple days prior, they’d been hounding him nonstop about your whereabouts. He had to admit to them that he’d fucked up, which earned him a nice scolding from his mother, exactly what he needed in the moment. He was trying his hardest to enjoy himself, but he found it very hard to do without your presence.

Josh wiped his sweaty palms on his pants as he sat anxiously behind one of the large screens that was displaying one of his classmate’s projects, his was up next. He didn’t know why, but every couple of minutes, he found himself scanning the crowded field of festival goers in search of your face.

It was stupid, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“There you are,” Jake’s voice called from behind him, causing him to turn abruptly.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, why'd you run off?”

“Just needed some air,” Josh sighed.

Jake sat in the cool metal chair beside him and took a bite out of the funnel cake he was eating, “what’s going on? Are you nervous or something?”

Josh shook his head, for some reason, he wasn’t nervous at all.

Silence lingered for a moment, then Jake spoke again, “it’s y/n, isn’t it?”

Josh looked at his far too smart twin, then dropped his head into his hands, “I fucked up Jake, big time. And I don’t think this is something I can come back from,” he looked back towards him, “how did I manage to fuck up this badly?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but one of the sophomore film students came zipping around the corner, “Josh, you’re up in five.”

He sent the girl a thumbs up, then turned his attention back to Jake, who was offering him a sympathetic grin.

“Don’t beat yourself up about it too much. It’s life, everyone fucks up once or twice. And if you’re a Kiszka, that number doubles automatically.”

They both laughed a little before Jake gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder, “but you’ll also never know what will come of the situation if you don’t at least see.”

He stood from his chair, “blessesed are those who ask the questions, brother,” he spoke in a Shakespearean manner, “or something like that anyway.”

The rest of his funnel cake was finished in one bite, and he tossed his trash in a near by bin, silently scolding his brother for choosing a place of refuge directly next to it.

Josh was standing now, and Jake began tugging on his collar, making sure his twin looked as presentable as possible for his big moment.

“I’m gonna go find the bunch, you know you got this, right?”

Josh nodded, and Jake sent him one more firm nod, “see you out there, then.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The crowd applauded as Josh’s professor stepped away from the podium, allowing him to step forward and introduce himself and his film.

His entire family was sat front row, Karen sending him a thumbs up. At the end of the row, there was an empty seat. It was meant for him, but he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to see you sitting there instead.

Josh cleared his throat, “good evening, everyone. My name is Joshua Kiszka, I’m the director of the film you’re about to see, and I just want to thank the festival directors for letting me share my-… our story.”

He could feel his nerves surfacing, his hands beginning to shake as he clutched the mic between them, “This film is something that is very close to my heart. I-it follows the journey of a young art student, who I shamelessly plucked out of the library one rainy morning, and we were stuck like glue from that day forward,” the audience chuckled, “when I met y/n, I was immediately drawn to her. She’s beautiful, yes, and her talent speaks for itself, but what really struck me was her ability to see the beauty in the people and the world around her. She found inspiration in the most unlikely of places, and her art was a reflection of her unique perspective. She herself, is a truly inspiring person, with a passion for creating art that’s contagious. Watching her work was like watching a magician conjur up a spell, each stroke of a brush or pencil adding another layer to the world she was creating.”

His eyes sought out Jake, who gave him another signature nod of his head.

You got this, big brother.

“But y/n is a lot more than just a talented artist. She’s also a person that radiates warmth and kindness,” Josh began smiling to himself, “her smile… it lights up any room she finds herself in, her laughter is so infectious, and it wasn’t long before I found myself falling in love with her.”

He looked down for a moment then back towards the crowd, “unfortunately, I guess life had other plans for us, and though things may not have worked out the way I expected them to, she still continues to inspire me. After filming, when I sat down to piece this film together, I wanted to capture the essence of her spirit and the beauty of her art. But as I worked, I realized this film was more than just about her art, but about the art of living.”

“You see, y/n taught me that life isn’t just about achieving goals and accumulating accolades. It’s about finding joy in the little things, appreciating the beauty of the world, and the relationships we build with others and the experiences we share. She showed me that art isn’t just something you create, it’s something that you live, day in and day out.”

Josh sighed, feeling more relaxed as he saw the smiling faces in he crowd, “so in this film, you’ll get to see y/n’s journey and the impact she had on me. You’ll see how her art reflected her soul, and how her spirit inspired me to live my life with more passion and purpose. To be honest, I didnt know what I was looking for when I set out to make this film, but I ended up finding everything I ever needed. I hope this film can inspire you in some ways, too. I hope you’ll see that love, art, and life, are all intertwined, and that the beauty of it is all around us, waiting to be discovered. Without further ado, I present to you ‘The Art of Life’. Thank you.”

Applause rung out as Josh exited the stage and took a seat next to his mother.

The projector came to life with harsh white light, before the film began rolling.

The first thing to appear on the screen was your face, angelic in so many ways, and when it did, Josh’s heart sank into his stomach. You were sat in front of your gallery of work in a more formal interview style. He remembered that day vividly, it took the both of you from sun up to sundown to complete that section of filming. He smiled at the memory.

“Introduce yourself,” Josh’s voice rang out through the speakers.

You shifted in your seat, “my name is y/n, and I’m an artist.”

It didn’t occur to him until then how much he missed your voice.

“And what does being an artist mean to you?”

Your lips pursed as you digested the question, “well, to be an artist is to see the world with a different set of eyes, to observe every detail and every hue, to capture the essence of beauty and turn it into something new… something more personal…”

As you continued speaking, the scene cut away to a clip of you laughing in your apartment as you worked on a piece, the faint sound of your laughter causing the hair on his arms to stand up straight.

“…but being an artist isn’t just about creating to me, it’s a way of life. As a painter, you’re given this blank slate full of potential, and you’re given all these various tools and options, and you’re tasked with creating something beautiful. Life is the same way when you think about it…”

Another clip from when you two visiting the art gallery on your first day together, you were standing admiring one of the pieces.

“Life, like painting, is full of contrasts, dark shades and bright hues, light and shadows that last. It’s all those imperfections that make it unique…”

You and Josh running through the rainy streets of New York, you with copious ammounts of art supplies in your clutch.

“… so to me, being an artist simply means being alive. Living, learning, growing, experiencing… and creating.”

Josh could feel something stirring inside of him as he watched you on the screen. The film cut to you standing on the windy harbor, and Josh turned to gauge everyone’s reactions. Every eye was glued to the screen as you began speaking. They all seemed to be just as captured by your beauty as he was.

In that moment, there was no doubt in Josh’s mind what he needed to do. He sprang to his feet, moving towards the nearest exit.

Karen gave him a wild look, but his heart was too preoccupied to pay any mind.

His slow pace turned into a light jog, and soon he was full on running.

“Does anyone know where the final art gallery is being held?” He shouted to anyone who would listen.

“Shut up, man. I’m watching a movie here,” someone shouted back.

“It’s a film, not a movie, genius,” he quipped back.

“South Harbor and 30th,” a female voice rang out.

He thanked the mystery voice, hastily exiting the venue and heading exactly in that direction.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You were still on your first glass of champagne as you surveyed the gallery, watching people dressed in their Sunday best partake in cocktail hour. The room was filled with chatter and the soft hum of classical music.

These kinds of events always had you on edge, rubbing elbows with snobby art elitists wasn’t your cup of tea, it was simply a part of the profession you chose. But you often felt uncomfortable and out of place, just as you did right now.

Your parents were a no show, but that was to be expected, they hardly every crawled out of their small corner of the world for anything other than weekend casino trips, so their absence wasn’t missed. But Josh… oh how you longed for his presence. Even after seeing what you had a month ago, you couldn’t stop yourself from yearning for him. But you figured that season had come and gone, leaving you alone in a room full of crowded people as you waited to present your finished piece.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Another hour rolled by before it was time for the artwork to be unveiled, and one by one, you listened to your peers give rehearsed speeches about their work, and soon enough it was your turn to do the same.

As you stood at the small podium, scanning the crowd in front of you, you suddenly forgot all the words you’d gone over dozens of times in your apartment. Eveyone’s eyes were on you, and you shifted your balance on your feet, tugging at your long black gown and steadying yourself in your uncomfortable shoes. The room was eerily silent as everyone waited for you to speak, and after trying and failing to remember what you wanted to say, you decided to simply let the words flow.

“This… this painting that I’m about to present is very near and dear to me, something I worked on tirelessly, and it’s of someone who’s very important to me.”

You paused briefly before continuing, “I met this young man one day in the library when he asked me to be the subject of a film he was making, and though I was a bit hesitant at first, I agreed. I didn’t know what to expect going into it, but I thought why the hell not? It’s not every day you get to be the main character in an underground film, right?”

A few people in the audience chuckled, “but what I didn’t know is how much that man would change my life. You know as an artist, you’re trained to pay attention to details, colors, shapes, those kinds of things, and I’ve pretty much convinced myself that I was an expert at doing so. But after Josh entered my life, I started seeing things a bit differently, a bit clearer. Josh has a way of bringing out the brighter side of life, a side of life I didn’t know I was missing out on,” your eyes began to burn from the tears that began to brew, “and I feel so lucky that I was able to experience that with him, no matter how short it may have been.”

“So I painted this portrait in hopes to capture his essence so that I could share it with all of you, because as much as I wanted to keep it all to myself, something that beautiful deserves to be experienced by many, if only captured in a single moment. After all, that’s the true job of an artist.”

A few smiles appeared in the crowd, and you dropped your head with a soft chuckle, “it’s kinda funny. I started off being his muse, but he ended up being mine…”

You were speaking to yourself now without even knowing, and when you realized that the room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, you snapped out of your trance.

“Anyways, without further ado, I present to you ‘Quintessence’.”

The large black cloak that was draped over your painting fell to the ground as the audience erupted into applause, all of their focus shifting from you the the canvas behind you.

There were a few gasps and excited murmurs that slowly melted away your nerves, but as you turned to get a look at the painting, Josh’s eyes seemingly staring right back at you, the tension returned.

You stood back with the rest of the spectators to take in the painting, your first real time doing so since it was completed.

The painting was in fact of Josh, but it depicted him as some sort of angelic being. His face held a serene expression, encased by a soft white glow that brought out the curvature of his features. The idea came to you the night of your first date, Josh’s naked body pressed against yours. The light from a street lamp outside casted its light perfectly across his face, bringing forward the most beautiful parts of him.

His arms were outstretched as if he were in flight, his wings extended behind him, and his head tilted up towards the heavens. His body (which you decided to paint as close to the real thing as possible), was draped in a gold fabric that shimmered in the light, another idea from that night when Josh stood at the foot of your bed wearing only your bed sheet. His halo glowed a similar color, it’s luminescence bleeding into the background of the painting.

The background took on no real form, just swirling colors and shapes that gave the piece more of an otherworldly feeling.

Overall, it wasn't your usual style of art. It appeared as if it belonged in the renaissance section of some posh museum, but as you stood marveling at it, all you felt was a sense of pride. You were actually proud of it. All you wanted to do was show Josh in the way you saw him, and you had to admit you did just that.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Once all of the art had been presented, you took the time to stroll around the gallery by yourself, admiring the work of your peers while sipping on champagne that was far too expensive for your taste. You hadn’t realized how much time you spent browsing until you made it back to the front, the once large crowd that congregated in the area now much smaller.

You sat your empty champagne flute down and began making your way back to where your piece was, silently cursing yourself for not sticking around to answer questions like you were supposed to. By now, anyone who might have been interested was more than likely gone.

As you rounded the corner, you expected the area near your painting to be a ghost town, but to your surprise, there was one curly-haired patron standing directly in front of it, observing in deep thought.

Though his back was turned to you, there was no mistaking who it was, and a small smile began to spread across your face.

“What’s your analysis of this painting?” You asked softly, repeating the question he asked you on the day you met.

You could tell he was already well aware of your presence, not frightened by the sound of your voice coming from behind him. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he shifted on his feet and crossed his arms over his chest.

“I see,” he began, pausing briefly to give the question more thought, “I see the best version of myself. A slightly less handsome version,” he teased, causing you to chuckle, “but it’s the version I’d like to be all the time.”

He finally turned to look at you, and his face was just as angelic as it was in the painting, maybe even more so.

“It’s the version of myself that you bring out.”

Your heart began beating wildly in your chest, your heels digging further and further into the ground as his eyes burned into you. They wandered down the length of your long black dress, then back up to your face.

“I miss you, y/n.”

All you wanted was to melt into his arms and tell him that you missed him too, but your pride took over in the moment.

“I guess the brunette in the coffee shop wasn’t enough?”

“No,” he responded with a scoff, catching you off guard, “no she wasn’t. In fact, I don’t think any woman will ever be enough for me, any woman except you. My muse.”

He was standing directly in front of you now, running the back of his fingers delicately across your cheek, “I know what you said that night, about us deserving someone who could be there for us, and I thought I agreed with you, but I don’t. I deserve you, y/n. And I think it’s safe to say you deserve me too. We deserve each other,” your eyes closed as he continued to speak, “could you even imagine anything other than this? Anything other than us?”

His thumb came up to wipe a single tear that slid down your face, “no,” you whispered, “I can’t. I don’t want to.”

Josh shook his head at you, “then let's not. Let’s not complicate it, okay mama? We’ll figure out all the details as they come, but let’s just fucking do it.”

More tears were falling now, only they served a different purpose. You nodded you head, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer, “okay, let’s fucking do it.”

He smiled down at you as his other hand found your face, pulling you in for an intoxicating kiss. It lingered on for a while without progressing before Josh pulled away from you breathless.

“Hey Picasso,” he grinned, “I think I love you.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Taglist: @welllauragvf @why-ami-on-here @objectsinspvce @josh-iamyour-mama

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vellichxrr6782 · 2 years ago

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CHAPTER FOUR, shiny toy with a price.

SYNOPSIS: an encounter with your supposed "enemy" leaves you questioning his motives. a drive with your closest friend gives you insight on your new relationship, which could be your biggest break or your biggest problem.

CHARACTERS (in this chapter): ayato, diluc, kaeya, jean.

CW/TW: cussing, kaeya and diluc almost arguing (the epitome of brotherly love).

WORD COUNT: 2k words.

<- previous chapter | cruel summer masterlist | next chapter ->

it had been a few days since the incident at the party. you were honestly rather exhausted from everyone’s endless questions. the news of childe’s girlfriend cheating on him was overpowered completely by the news of you and childe dating.

your fans were clearly ecstatic, and many fan pages had been opened for you both. you, however, were definitely not ecstatic, considering your life was taking another route entirely.

jean and zhongli were definitely the happiest, though. maybe because they’re getting their raise soon.

childe was doing a splendid job of adhering to the rules of the contract. in fact, you’d say he was more dedicated than you were, considering you were the one who agreed to the contract in the first place.

he put a cheesy, romantic quote in his bio, and asked you to go on a “date” with him, so you could prove the credibility of your relationship, and get some pictures.

you weren’t looking forward to the date, that’s for sure. for now, you just needed to rest, away from everyone who was trying to leech on you.

although, coming to rest at komore teahouse was probably not such a good idea.

you had just ended a meeting with a producer, and you were looking for a place to get something to drink. you entered the komore teahouse, since it was pretty popular nowadays.

how were you supposed to know that a man you should most certainly avoid, was also there?

kamisato ayato was sitting cross-legged on the chair, sipping boba tea. you found it quite… unusual, a man whose entire atmosphere and mannerisms fell nothing short of ‘elegant’ and ‘refined’, was drinking bubble tea with sparkles in his eyes.

you immediately covered your face, attempting to sneak by to the cashier to place your order, but lady luck was not on your side, since ayato had immediately noticed you.

“miss y/n l/n?” he called out, and you froze. you’d barely heard his voice before, but wow, was it a soothing one. “what brings you here?”

you forced a smile, fiddling with your fingers as you looked at ayato. “oh, ayato, right? what a pleasure to meet you. i’m here to…drink tea? i guess? what about you?”

“same as you, haha. my manager, thoma, owns this place.”

“your manager…owns a cafe too?” well, that was certainly new.

you excused yourself, scurrying over to the register. you placed your order for what you guessed would take the least amount of time to make, and gleefully accepted and paid when you got it.

attempting once more to sneak past unnoticed, and failing once more to sneak past unnoticed, you found yourself seated across ayato.

this was sure to end badly if you weren’t careful.

"how enthralling," ayato whispered, after a few seconds of observing you, "the movies fail to capture your beauty, l/n."

"ah, thank you. you’re the new rising star of teyvat’s film industry, aren’t you?" you asked, keeping your distance. god knows what controversy would awaken if you were seen getting buddy-buddy with your "boyfriend"s rival.

"the one and only," ayato chuckled, "i've heard a lot about you from my sister. my curiosity did not allow me to sit still, i simply had to see you in person."

you laughed awkwardly, your discomfort quite obvious in your tone. ayato was certainly a perceptive individual, so this didn't go unnoticed.

still, it did nothing to quell his antics.

"and i must say, i have no regrets." he narrowed his eyes, smiling. he was like a sly fox. and you thought director yae was the fox.

you had to admit, he was very attractive. you could see why he'd instantly shot to popularity, and his acting was commendable too. he was talented and gifted.

but gods, it would be amazing if he wouldn't get so incredibly close to you right now.

"so, um, how's work?" you asked, internally praying for ajax, jean, zhongli, anyone to come and interrupt.

"i wouldn't call it work, honestly. it's quite enjoyable to be surrounded by my fans and do what i enjoy all the time." classic response.

wish you could say the same. you loved your fans, yeah. but it was a bit tiring, when the reason people approached you nowadays was to know about the "hot scoop" of your relationship (the term "hot scoop" should be banned, honestly).

"that's nice.. haha." you replied. "um, well, i should certainly get going- "

"oh, so quick?" ayato raised a brow. "my apologies if i made you uncomfortable, haha. i tend to come off as such."

'it's okay', you thought, but said, "no, no! not at all. i'm just busy." you stood up, patting invisible dust off your clothes.

"well, can i get your number?"

"excuse me?"

unbelievable. he's making moves on his enemy's girlfriend.

you didn't really wanna be a card he could use against childe, so naturally, you would've declined. but...

"i won't be a bother, don't worry. it's rather lonely for me since i'm new to the film industry." he frowned a little, "still, i'm glad we spoke, though."

how, how could you say no? he's lonely. you would feel so bad. he wants a friend.

"yeah... sure, i'll enter it." you gave in rather quick, feeling a bit remorseful for acting a tad bit stand-offish earlier.

god, he's ... incredibly two-faced. just a few minutes ago, he was eyeing you up and down suggestively, and now he was acting all cute to get your number?

it's tough being in demand.

you handed his phone back to him, and ayato grinned like the fox he was. a cute one. alright, shut up. ajax would be disappointed if he could hear your thoughts.

you waved a quick goodbye to ayato, putting on your mask as a disguise, and immediately calling jean to ask where she was.

"i'm being held up with something right now, y/n. would you mind if i sent eula or lisa to come and pick you up?"

"please send anyone but eula. her driving skills are gonna get me arrested and i'm too tired right now." you replied, recalling the last time eula almost crashed the car and swore vengeance upon a tree.

jean laughed, and replied, "yeah, yeah, i'll send lisa." before hanging up.

you waited on the sidewalk, since that seemed preferable to you instead of talking to ayato who was inside the cafe. you took off your mask, letting out a huge breath.

you needed to get to the studio to film a scene. the director thought the weather was splendid today, and scheduled a shooting on short notice.

all of a sudden, a fancy car stopped in front of you. you immediately froze, your thoughts rising to kidnapping.

the windows rolled down to show a familiar face. there he was, in all his glory,

diluc ragnvindr.

not who you were expecting, huh? i mean, ajax, lisa and diluc all owned fancy expensive cars. it was tough to differentiate sometimes.

"hey, y/n." diluc smiled, which was a first for others, but pretty usual for you. "waiting for someone?"

"nope, what brings you here?" you replied, leaning against his door.

"i'm your chauffeur for the day, it seems." diluc opened the door for the passenger seat, and you leaned against the door. "jean sent me."

"she said she was sending lisa though?" you raised a brow, getting in.

"it's a tuesday, which means it's spa day for lisa. i offered to pick you up instead." diluc sighed, starting the car. "to the studio?"

"ah, of course, typical lisa. yeah, to the studio." you thanked diluc, and he started driving.

you had known diluc for years, since you went to high school with him and kaeya. he was always silent, but he was caring and reliable. he was quite the gentleman, offering you his coat, bringing you coffee, helping you study, and cautioning you from trying daring things for your own safety. he was also the one who urged you to try out acting as a career choice, and look where that had brought you.

if anything, you owed diluc quite a bit for being an important person in your life.

"so, what's up?" you asked, leaning back, "it's been a while since we last caught up. it was when we were doing that movie together, no? god, that was years ago."

"mhm," diluc nodded, "nothing much from my end. kaeya's gotten a modelling gig and he won't shut up about it."

"i heard about it from childe, apparently it's for a pretty big modelling company, so kaeya's basically a celebrity now." you chuckled, remembering how badly kaeya wanted to model when he was young.

"oh yeah, speaking about childe." you noticed how diluc's expression twisted into a sour frown when he took ajax's name. "i heard you're dating him now?"

diluc had never liked childe. you didn't exactly know why, maybe it was because of childe's... rambunctious personality. or maybe because he was kaeya's best friend? you didn't really bother to ask, since you weren't a big fan of the tartaglia either.

"o-oh, um, yeah-" you stammered, preferring to completely avoid this topic. god forbid you let it slip to diluc that it was all an elaborate lie. "it just happened, i guess."

"i'm surprised, i thought you hated him?"

"hate is a rather strong word. i just didn't like him much. he's not all that bad though." you smiled, "what about you diluc? you've never dated anyone, right?"

"no, i have not." he replied, looking away. "i did like someone, though."

you gasped, "why'd you never tell me?! i'm your friend for a damn reason, diluc!" this was news to you, and you took offence at yourself for never noticing.

but then again, diluc was like a closed book that was wrapped and tied tightly, no one could open it. he was unreadable with his emotions, especially ones that related to love.

diluc chuckled, "i didn't realise it back then, there was too much going on in my life. besides, i deemed it pointless to like someone who wouldn't really look at me the way i look at them."

that sounds... quite poetic actually. it was surprising to hear diluc had feelings for someone, or perhaps used to. you wondered what happened, but the topic seemed to make diluc a little uncomfortable by looking at how he was sweating. so you decided not to pursue further.

"i'm probably in no position to give you advice, y/n. but," diluc started, a bittersweet expression on his face. "our hearts are fragile and naive. they trust easily in times of desperation and convince themselves of lies to seek solace. they break and shatter, crumble and fall."

"still, our hearts are capable of healing. it takes time, don't rush. the same hearts that are naive and easily-distraught can be incredibly cunning and ruthless too." diluc breathed out, as if he’d let go of something that was on the tip of his tongue, a hefty burden on his shoulders lifted.

"thank you, diluc." you smiled, looking at him. “i appreciate it.”

diluc gazed away from you, "be careful around childe, is what i want to say. he's quite unpredictable, and i don't want you getting hurt."

still caring for you, nonetheless.

his car came to an abrupt stop, and a bang on your window snapped you out of your train of thought. you met eyes with kaeya, who looked ecstatic. diluc’s smile twisted into a frown of distaste.

“you?” diluc deadpanned, glaring at kaeya, rolling his windows down.

“sup, diluc! y/n!” kaeya grinned, getting in the car uninvited. “it’s amazing i ran into you two right now, i could really use a lift to the mondstadt modelling agency.” he threw his shopping bags onto diluc’s backseat, as if he had come from a shopping spree.

“well?” he urged, when diluc didn’t start the car, choosing to glare at kaeya.

“what the fuck, kaeya?” diluc said, “where the hell did you come from?”

“well, i’m sorry i interrupted your lovey-dovey moment with y/n, but i’m getting very late for my photo shoot.” kaeya pulled out a bottle of black nail-polish. he started painting his nails nonchalantly. “start driving, dipshit.”

“what did you just call me-?!” diluc nearly jumped at kaeya, who was unfazed. you put a hand on diluc’s chest to stop him from nearly murdering his little brother.

“just drive, ‘luc.”

diluc obliged with no further argument.

published on; 19th may, 2023. writing belongs to @/vellichxrr6782 on tumblr

#[🔖 vellichxrr writes ]#[ 🎬 cruel summer ]#genshin childe #childe genshin impact #childe x reader #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact #genshin impact childe #genshin tartagalia #childe tartagalia #tartaglia x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #tartaglia fluff #childe fluff #childe angst

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coworkingspaceinpune · 8 months ago

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The Future of Work: How Co working Spaces Are Revolutionizing Pune's Business Landscape

In recent years, the concept of co working spaces has witnessed speedy growth, transforming the way people work and interact with their professional surroundings. Pune, also known as Oxford of the East, has emerged as a prominent hub for co working spaces, attracting startups, freelancers, established businesses and Tech-savvy workforce. Coworking spaces in Pune have quickly gained popularity, offering a perfect blend of modern amenities, networking opportunities, and a vibrant community. These innovative workspaces offer more than just desks and chairs; they provide a collaborative environment that fosters creativity, productivity, and networking opportunities. Let's dive into how co working spaces are revolutionizing Pune's business scene.

Collaborative Community: In Pune coworking spaces are designed to encourage collaboration and interaction among individuals from diverse backgrounds and industries. Such spaces encourage creativity and problem – solving through insightful interactions. The unexpected encounters with professionals sharing similar interests but from diverse fields frequently result in groundbreaking partnerships and business opportunities.

Professional Environment: Co working spaces provide a professional environment that can help improve your productivity. You can work in a quiet and comfortable space, with access to all the amenities you need.

Cost Effectiveness: For startups and freelancers, renting a traditional corporate space can be expensive deal. Co working spaces in Pune offer flexible pricing plans, which makes them more cost-effective than traditional work space. One can choose a plan that suits their budget and pay for the services one uses.

Prime Location: Coworking spaces in Pune offers convenient access to public transportation, as well as popular cafes, restaurants and Retail outlets.

Ecosystem support: Beyond providing physical workspace, co working spaces often serve as incubators and accelerators for startups and small businesses. Many co working spaces in Pune offer mentorship programs, access to investors, and other resources to help entrepreneurs grow their businesses. By nurturing a supportive ecosystem of startups and innovators, co working spaces play a vital role in driving innovation and economic growth in the region.

Embracing the Hybrid Work Model: Looking at global shifttowards hybrid work models has further fueled the demand for Co working spaces in Pune. As the company embrace a mix of remort and in – office work, professional seek flexible spaces that enable seamless transitions between their home and shared work environment.

Work-life Balance: With the rise of remote work and the gig economy, more people are seeking flexibility and autonomy in their work arrangements. Coworking spaces offer a solution that bridges the gap between the isolation of working from home and the rigidity of a traditional office environment. By providing a professional workspace outside the home, coworking spaces help maintain boundaries between work and personal life, leading to improved work-life balance and overall well-being. To conclude with, co working spaces are reshaping Pune’s business landscape by offering a collaborative, flexible, and community-driven alternative to traditional work spaces. With their emphasis on creativity, connectivity, and entrepreneurship, Coworking spaces in Pune are not just places to work but hubs of innovation and collaboration that are driving Pune's future economy forward.

#coworking space in pune #co working space in pune

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disparition · 1 year ago

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Still Life 1

I am at a cafe that I first started coming to in the late 90’s. Over half of my life ago. Dana Street Roasting Company in Mountain View, California. It has been decades since I could call myself a regular. I don’t know who anyone here is except for Nick, the owner, and no one here knows who I am - not even Nick, though maybe he once did, a little bit. When I started coming here, when I actually was a regular, the place was called Jumpin Java. Nick still owned it then, the name change came about when he bought a roaster and started selling beans. In the old days, everyone who worked here was a punk who had moved from Austin Texas or somewhere close by, the was a group of five or six of them. The main figure among them was a guy named Aaron who managed the place. He wore tattoos from Wilson’s Illuminatus! Trilogy, constantly played loud industrial music in the cafe, and led the Texas punks. If you were sitting outside and he came out and hung with you for five minutes while taking a smoke break it felt like a great privelege, like being chosen for something. Like most people I knew in Mountain View, he has long since left, first for Arizona, and now I believe he lives in Washington. It was a lively place, for a small boring town like Mountain View, often hard to get a seat unless you knew someone who’s table you could join, and there was a little stage with live jazz and folk bands playing from Thursdays to Sundays, three tables outside for smokers, and also a whole alley where people hung out. There were two other main cafes in Mountain View in those days - Red Rocks and Cuppa Joe’s - which also had decent crowds and live music on the weekends. Also two corporate cafes further up Castro Street, a Starbucks and a Peet’s, but I’m not counting those. Also a branch of a local bagel chain, a fake French bakery, two good pho places, a ramen place, several Indian restaurants with good lunch buffet deals - one of which, Sue’s, also featured a gallery of art by the owner. Also several good dim sum places, a handful of American style Chinese food places, a couple of bars I was too young to have much interest in, a large Chinese grocery store, an excellent taqueria called Los Charros (for the food, but also there was a bartender working there with a famous mustache), a hippy ice cream shop, a small Hong Kong style bakery with great pork rolls, and a number of acupuncture and herbal medecine shops. If you were to sit at a table outside the cafe and look towards Castro street, you’d see an herb shop, an attorney’s office, a small real estate office, and then on the corner there’s Easy Food Company, a Chinese convenience store that sold a wide range of imported goods from snack foods to liqueurs to statues, where I used to buy Parliament Lights for $2.50 a pack.

This town has been through many drastic changes. The above description applies to when I was in my late teens and early twenties. When I came to the downtown area as a young child, it was different, like it came from a different era. Appliance stores that looked like they were from the 50’s, wooden boardwalks on the sidewalks, a weird fake “old west” vibe. But I didn’t spend much time here as a child so I don’t know much more about it beyond that superficial impression.

Now it is over two decades later since the time I describe in the first paragraph. The three tables are still here outside the cafe, and I’m sitting at one of them. But the inside is a jumble of upside down chairs, plastic milk crates, burlap sacks of coffee beans and burlap sacks of burlap sacks. There is nowhere to sit, no music playing, no schedule of upcoming live bands, and nowhere for any bands to play or set up anyway. But the outside part of the cafe is unchanged, and when I look towards Castro street I see the herb shop, the attorney’s office, the real estate place, and Easy Food Company, which still sells a wide range of imported Chinese goods from snack foods to liqueurs to statues and they probably still sell Parliament Lights too, though I’ve long since quit and I doubt they are $2.50 a pack.

Beyond Easy Food, Castro Street itself, is where the most drastic change has occurred. The most obvious change of course is due to the pandemic. Once busy with cars, the street has been blocked off up at California Ave all the way down to the train station, which means about five blocks of it are pedestrian only, and the restaurants and cafes have spilled out into the street. This happened back in 2020, and a number of neighborhing towns did the same. Some of those, like Palo Alto, have reversed course and opened their downtown areas back up to traffic. But in Mountain View this seems to be a more permanent situation, and personally I think it’s a drastic improvement. On evenings and weekends Castro street fills up with families eating at the many restaurants that now have tables in the middle of the street and there are musicians performing on street corners. But if you come here on a weekday morning there are few people around and the lack of cars provides a peaceful atmosphere.

The other massive change is due to the growth of the tech industry, but this is a change that has occurred in waves, again and again, over the course of my life. The phrase “Silicon Valley” is often used in the media and discourse as a shorthand term for the computer/internet/technology business regardless of location, but also Silicon Valley is a physical place, it’s the Santa Clara Valley, and Mountain View is very much in the heart of it. The growth of this industry brings influxes of people - people from all over, but mainly from other parts of the US, from China, and from India and other South Asian countries. My own family came from Massachusetts in the early 80’s. This was of course several decades before Google, Facebook, Twitter, etc. came into being. The main tech companies in those days were Sun, Hewlett-Packard, Apple still a fledgling but very quickly growing. In those days it felt more concentrated down in San Jose, Santa Clara, Sunnyvale, towns where you’d see these huge corporate “office parks”. By the time I left for college there was another “tech boom” with a different suite of companies, this time around the internet. The age of Yahoo, Hotmail, Geocities, the personal web page, the AltaVista search. I wasn’t in the Bay Area at the time, and what I heard was that it changed a lot and then changed back. It was a bubble that burst. But it was to be one of several. There was another, later growth of the industry around a new set of internet companies - the ones we are dealing with now. Google in particular probably had more of an effect on Mountain View than most, when they set up a massive campus here. Now as I write this, any random person I see on the street in this town or a neighboring town has a good chance of either being an employee of one of those massive tech companies, or of being someone who was recently laid off by one of them.

In terms of this town, and my place in it, the change is both bad and good. The inequality gap has grown wider, and personally there is no way I could afford to live here now, unless my fortunes were to drastically change. I only come to this area a few times a year, when visiting my wife’s family, who are the only people I still know in this part of the Bay. All of the wonderful types of food that I describe in the first paragraph are here, and more, if not the exact same places. Los Charros is now called La Espuala, but the menu is the same, even if the guy with the mustache no longer works there. There are many good Indian restaurants, though they no longer offer cheap lunch buffets. Red Rocks, one of the other independent cafes, is also still around and even has an open mic night once a week, and more places to sit than Dana Street - but their coffee just isn’t as good. Some of the places are the same - one of the pho places that I used to go to on lunch breaks when I was a telemarketer is still here, and still looks the same. A lot of the other places are essentially just more expensive or “prestige branded” versions of the places that were here before, and there are a lot more of them, and even if I can’t afford to live here I can at least, sometimes, afford eating here, and in fact after I finish writing here I’m going to go to the Hong Kong bakery to get a pork roll.

During the time while I was writing this, someone came and joined me at the table to do some work on a laptop. After some time they mentioned that they “used to come here a long time ago” and I thought it was so odd that I was writing about the exact same subject, and wondered if this was someone I used to know. But further conversation revealed that by “a long time ago” they meant 2012, while I was thinking of the previous century.

If you’ve read all this, for whatever reason: this isn’t a story or a polemic. There’s no point to it. Just writing for the sake of writing, background without a foreground.

#mountain view #california #still life #background #writing #bay area

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