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skylin-files · 3 months ago

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girl code ⋆ na jaemin

pov: your best friend's former situationship started hitting you up. what could go wrong?

pairing: college student!jaemin x college student! yn

featuring! winter of aespa, nct members

note: this is part three (final part). i hope you like it; your comments will be highly appreciated. ♡

check other parts here: part 1 | part 2

── .✦

You found yourself zoning out in the cafeteria, barely touching your food, while both Haechan and Mark watched you with concern.

Winter’s silence—ignoring you and not replying for two days—wasn’t helping either. Perhaps luck was on your side, as your lab class with Jaemin had been postponed due to your professor’s flu.

Occasionally, you’d cross paths with Jaemin in the hallway. You tried to appear neutral, but the heavy weight in your stomach was impossible to ignore every time you saw him. At the same time, you couldn’t deny how much you secretly liked feeling his gaze linger on you as you turned away.

It had been two days since Mark sent the group photo and two days since you last heard from Winter.

It was the end of your final class, and as you placed the last of your things in your locker and slammed it shut, you nearly jumped at the sight of Jaemin leaning casually against the locker next to yours.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice soft. You blinked, trying to steady yourself, and whispered back, "Hey."

You watched him as he straightened up from his relaxed position, seeming to wrestle with his thoughts, hesitating before speaking.

"How are you?" he asked. His tone held a subtle weight, as though he wanted to ask more but held himself back. You hadn’t been replying to his messages like you used to, and though he clearly noticed, he chose not to press further.

"I’m okay, just busy," you answered—a tired, overused excuse. It was obvious Jaemin didn’t believe you, but he only nodded in response. "Can I get you a coffee?" he offered.

Did you want to say yes? Absolutely. But was it the right thing to do? You weren’t sure. Caught between the pull of a heart yearning for love and a mind that kept shutting it out, you felt a pang of helplessness.

"Sure," you murmured, almost to yourself, the word slipping out with a faint sense of defeat.

── .✦

"One americano and an iced caramel macchiato for Jaemin," the barista announced.

Jaemin gathered both drinks, and while you went to the restroom, he placed them at the table by the time you returned. The two of you settled into a cozy seat at a café near campus, the same place where you and Winter usually hung out. As you sat there, your thoughts drifted to your best friend, and a somber look crossed your face, which Jaemin quickly noticed.

"We haven’t seen much of each other lately," he remarked, though you couldn’t quite read his expression.

"Well, our professor has the flu," you replied. Jaemin simply nodded, taking a sip of his drink.

The silence lingered for a while, and once again, it felt like he was on the verge of saying something but was hesitating. Finally, he spoke up. "I missed you."

As you were about to take a sip from your cup, you froze for a moment, the cup hanging just a few inches from your lips.

"I missed you too, Jaemin," you replied, though deep down, you couldn't help but feel that developing feelings for Na Jaemin might be the most ironic twist fate had thrown your way.

"I want to be upfront," he started, and you could feel your heart race. "I’m not sure if you're intentionally ignoring me or if I did something wrong," he added.

"Your actions toward me have been confusing." You cut him off, attempting to conceal the real reason behind your behavior—the fact that you knew about him and Winter. As you spoke, you noticed Jaemin’s eyes soften.

"I know," he replied softly. "That’s why I’m here. I want to clear everything up."

For a moment, you found yourself wondering if what you had said was just an excuse, a way to justify your actions. Deep down, you realized that part of you was also eager to discover if Jaemin felt the same way about you as you did about him.

"The things I’ve done with you, the things I’m doing now, and the things I’m about to do—I'm not doing any of this just to be friends," Jaemin confessed. "I wanted to be clear and be 100% honest with you, because this is how it needs to be for it to work."

Hearing him speak so openly, you knew exactly where this conversation was headed.

"Your best friend, Winter... remember when you said she had a situationship here on campus?" Jaemin asked. You could only nod, finally bracing yourself to hear the confirmation.

"That was me," Jaemin admitted. You weren’t sure whether to feel heartbroken, knowing that your best friend was the failed situationship of the first boy you'd ever liked, or relieved, remembering how Jaemin had opened up about his past situationship with you.

"You told me that your first and last situationship was one of your biggest regrets. You said you didn’t want to go through it again, that it was pointless, a waste of time. That was Winter?" you asked, and Jaemin nodded in response.

Was it wrong to feel a sense of relief at his answer? He was clearly over your best friend, yet you couldn’t shake the guilt that lingered deep inside.

"I want to be completely honest with you," Jaemin said. "I like you, and if you feel the same, I’ll do everything I can to make it work. But that can only happen if I tell you this."

Both of you understood the consequences. You hadn't known that Jaemin was Winter's past situationship, and Winter hadn’t even mentioned it when you showed her the picture of you and Jaemin together. As for Jaemin, he was aware that you and Winter were best friends, but his feelings towards you all came naturally, and his intentions were sincere—what he felt for you was real.

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you sooner, but now that what I feel for you is clear, I knew you needed to know," Jaemin said.

His words made your heart sink. You appreciated Jaemin for being honest, but at the same time, you couldn’t help but feel a wave of sadness. Winter, your best friend for years, couldn’t even face you or talk to you about it over the phone.

You never understood why girls would lose their minds over a boy, not until Na Jaemin came into your life. You could only smile wistfully, never expecting to find yourself caught up in this kind of situation.

"I actually knew since two days ago," you finally confessed to Jaemin. "Winter, she’s been ignoring me. She even soft blocked me and my friends on social media," you added, referring to Haechan and Mark.

You paused for a moment, then looked at Jaemin and said sincerely, "Thank you for talking this through with me," feeling a deep sadness in your stomach. "But I need some time," you added, almost as if you were saying it to yourself rather than to Jaemin.

He nodded in response, and you could see a smile on his face, though it carried an undertone of sadness. "I understand," he replied.

You left the café and as you walked a few blocks away, the rain began to pour. Quietly cursing, you realized you didn't have your umbrella. But when you checked your bag, you found one tucked inside.

It wasn't yours, but it looked familiar.

You sighed as you realized it must have been Jaemin's—he must have placed it in your bag while you were in the restroom.

── .✦

The rhythmic sound of the cheerleading team's synchronized movements echoed through the gym as they practiced. For the past few days, Winter had dedicated all her time and focus to cheer, as if nothing else mattered.

When practice finally ended, she sat on the benches while the rest of her teammates left. She was alone in the gym, at least until footsteps echoed in, though she didn’t initially pay much attention. It wasn’t until the footsteps stopped in front of her that she looked up from her phone—it was Jaemin.

Winter froze as Na Jaemin stood in front of her in the university gym. "Are you lost?" she asked with a chuckle, trying to mask the uneasy feeling swirling in her stomach.

"We need to talk," Jaemin said plainly. Winter couldn’t stop the frown that formed on her face, starting to piece together the real reason he was there. Jaemin wasn’t there for her—he was there because of her best friend.

"If you’re here to tell me to talk to my best friend, then you should just leave," Winter snapped, standing and hastily gathering her things.

"You’re selfish, you know that?" Jaemin’s words caught her off guard, but she continued packing, determined to ignore him.

"You cut me off when I wanted to court you properly. And now that I’ve started liking someone who’s ready to commit the way I am, you’re acting like you’re the one who’s been dumped," Jaemin said, his usual calm demeanor replaced with frustration.

"She’s my best friend!" Winter lashed out, nearly throwing her things in her anger as her voice echoed in the empty gym. Jaemin and Winter locked eyes, tension crackling between them.

"This is the first time she’s liked a guy, but I know she understands what girl code is," Winter said, her voice faltering. Even as the words left her mouth, she felt foolish. Jaemin had never truly meant anything to her; their connection had been casual. Yet somehow, her pride and ego felt bruised, as if her very identity had been challenged.

"If you wanted her to follow girl code so badly, why didn’t you confront her about it?" Jaemin shot back, his tone sharp. "Why did it have to be me telling her about us? Why did her other friends have to find out before she did? You weren’t honest with her."

"I was honest! Not entirely," Winter countered, her voice rising in defense. "But when I said you two looked good together, I meant it. You did look good together." She paused, her voice trembling now. "But that doesn’t mean it didn’t make me feel sick to my stomach," she admitted, her frustration spilling out in every word.

Her hands trembled as she spoke, guilt crashing over her. Winter felt like the worst friend, the worst person, for the way things had turned out. She hated the way she felt but couldn’t deny it.

"You two looked so good together that it started to hurt," Winter admitted, her voice heavy with emotion. "But I don’t have the right to feel that way because I was the one who cut you off. We had nothing, and I didn’t do anything to change that. I didn’t stop her from seeing you."

Winter’s frustration was palpable, but it wasn’t directed at Jaemin or her best friend—not really. Deep down, she was angry at herself, though she desperately wished she could blame someone else. The weight of her own choices and inaction bore down on her, leaving her overwhelmed with regret.

Winter felt a wave of helplessness as she locked eyes with Jaemin, her mind briefly imagining what it might have been like if she had given him a chance—if she had taken him seriously. But reality pulled her back, and she could only shake her head in resignation.

"Just take care of her," she said softly, her voice heavy with emotion.

"I know you will, but please, take care of her. She's been looking out for me for years, and she deserves someone who will do the same for her." She was referring to her best friend. Clutching her gym bag tightly, she turned and walked out of the gym.

Jaemin stood frozen in place, the sound of the gym door slamming shut echoing in the empty space. Letting out a deep sigh, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

Your name was on the screen—the call was still ongoing. You had heard everything.

Every word, every emotion in Winter’s voice, every part of the conversation. You had heard it all.

── .✦

Your lab classes had resumed, but Jaemin was no longer seated beside you. At first, it stung, but then you realized why he had moved. He was doing it for you—giving you the time and space you said you needed.

Days passed, and you could still feel his gaze linger on you when you weren’t looking. The moment you no longer sensed his eyes, you found yourself testing your luck, stealing glances at him as if trying to grow accustomed to admiring him from a distance.

It was bittersweet, almost cliché.

A sadness settled over you as you wondered: Is this your reality with Jaemin? To admire each other from afar? The thought crept in—perhaps you and Jaemin were better at yearning for each other than at actually being together.

Not long after Jaemin spoke to Winter, you received a message from her. It was brief, only a few words:

Winter: “I’m sorry. I hope I can talk to you properly soon. I love you.”

You didn’t bother replying. It was clear she wasn’t ready to have an honest conversation or fully confront the situation. And as much as it hurt, you knew you had to face it on your own.

Weeks passed, and another group task was assigned during your lab class. As usual, everyone was instructed to write their partner's name on a piece of paper.

Glancing around the room, you noticed Jaemin's seat was empty. Your grip on the pen tightened as an internal battle raged between your heart and mind. Letting out a quiet sigh, you decided to follow what you truly wanted.

Carefully, you wrote your name on the paper. Just below it, you added "Na Jaemin."

Staring at the name, you gave a small nod before rising from your seat to submit it to your professor.

"He won’t mind, right?" you murmured to yourself, hoping you were right.

── .✦

Jaemin sat in the cafeteria with his best friend, Jeno, who was happily devouring his lunch.

“Are they not eating lunch today?” Jaemin asked, glancing at his watch. He was referring to you and your friends, who usually occupied the far end of the cafeteria.

“She’s in the library,” a familiar voice chimed in, followed by the loud clatter of a food tray being slammed onto the table, startling both Jaemin and Jeno. The voice belonged to Haechan, who had appeared out of nowhere, with Mark trailing closely behind, carrying his own tray.

“Be careful,” Jeno muttered, giving Haechan a side-eye, but Haechan merely shrugged as he and Mark casually settled into the seats across from Jaemin and Jeno.

“Why are you guys sitting here?” Jeno asked, giving Mark, his classmate, a friendly grin afterward, pointing toward the end of the cafeteria where Haechan and Mark usually sat. Both Jaemin and Jeno looked at them, confused by the sudden change in routine.

"You were looking for us, right? It would be easier if we sat closer to you," Haechan joked.

"It would have been easier if you brought your friend with you," Jeno retorted, referring to you, earning a glare from Jaemin. "As Haechan said, she's in the library," Mark added.

An awkward silence settled over the table until Haechan broke it, clearing his throat to grab Jaemin's attention. "Do you still like her?" Haechan asked casually, causing Jeno to nearly choke on his food at how blunt Haechan was.

"What?" Jaemin responded, and Mark rolled his eyes at the answer.

"One of our seniors is planning to ask her out," Mark added, prompting another "What?" from Jaemin, this time it was so loud that people nearby started giving them puzzled looks.

"Yeah, so you'd better get your act together. A month is plenty of time for space, right?" Haechan teased, casually chewing his food.

"Oh, and she wrote you down as her lab partner, so I guess that's your cue to stop this silent treatment," Haechan added, prompting Jaemin to jump out of his seat, leaving his food untouched as he rushed to the library where the duo had said you were. He had only missed one lab class, and this is what he returned to.

Jaemin silently thanked his lucky stars. If he had been there, would you still have written his name as your lab partner? No one could know for sure, but he quietly appreciated the universe's strange twist of fate—giving him a headache that day, which kept him from attending the class and the calls.

Jeno simply watched his best friend dash off, shrugging before going back to his food. He then looked at Mark and Haechan sitting across from him. "So, is it true that one of your seniors wants to ask her out?" Jeno asked.

"Nope," the duo replied in unison.

── .✦

Peeking through the library, Jaemin let out a sigh when he didn't see you. You must have already left. With lab class not until tomorrow, Jaemin considered texting you but hesitated, thinking it would feel strange to reach out after a month of silence. He decided to wait until the next day instead.

As the last period ended and he walked through the campus gates, Jaemin sighed again when rain began to drizzle. He scratched the back of his neck, deciding not to waste time by waiting for the rain to stop. It wasn’t too heavy, so he kept walking, feeling the droplets on his skin. Pausing at the stoplight, he waited for the signal to turn green. That's when he noticed the rain no longer falling on him.

Looking up, he saw you holding an umbrella over his head.

"You shouldn't walk in the rain, you might get sick," you said, making Jaemin freeze for a moment as he realized it was you. The umbrella he had placed in your bag during your last meeting at the café was now in your hands.

"I don't want my lab partner missing another class," you added, trying to sound casual, but the blush on your cheeks betrayed you.

Jaemin couldn’t help but smile, a wave of happiness swelling in his chest. He nodded and reached for the umbrella, but your hand brushed against his, making him hesitate. Without thinking, he ended up holding the umbrella for both of you.

"Thank you," he said, his heart racing slightly. You could only smile in response, at a loss for words.

It had been some time since you were this close to Jaemin, feeling the warmth radiating from his body as you both shared the umbrella. Jaemin’s phone vibrated, a notification popping up. You couldn’t help but shake your head slightly, a bigger smile spreading across your face when you saw it was a message from Jeno.

Jeno: “Thank me later! She asked me about your last class.”

Jaemin smiled at the text before turning off his phone, his expression suddenly shifting to one of seriousness.

"Is it true that a senior wanted to ask you out?" he asked out of nowhere.

You looked at him, clearly confused. "What? What senior?" you replied, bewildered.

Jaemin studied your face for a moment, sighing as he realized Mark and Haechan had been playing a prank on him. "I hate your friends," he muttered, pulling you closer so you wouldn’t get wet from the rain.

── .✦

You and Jaemin resumed talking comfortably after that, with the two of you becoming lab partners again. Thankfully, Jaemin didn’t mind, and in fact, he was quite happy about it. He started sitting with you again in class, and during breaks, your friend group began sitting together with Jaemin and Jeno.

The attraction between the two of you? It was clearly still there, but now the signs were more obvious.

Jaemin no longer hesitated to hold your hand, kiss the back of your hand—whether it was randomly, out of boredom, or as a simple gesture to show his adoration for you—buy you lunch, carry your bag, and walk you home like before. He’d share his headphones with you, always finding a reason to walk by your side, even if it meant taking the longer route. Na Jaemin would take note of all the small things you liked, showing just how much he cared.

You weren’t being subtle either. Instead of admiring him from afar, you now had the chance to admire him up close as he focused on the lab report beside you. You’d make little excuses to talk to him, always try to sit next to him, finding small ways to be near him. You’d even send him little texts just to check in, and when you saw new art galleries or exhibits in town, you’d share them with him, suggesting that the two of you go visit together.

These are just a few of the many ways the two of you express your growing feelings for each other. After a few weeks, Jaemin began courting you, showing you just how serious he was about his feelings. This time, you chose to follow your heart.

Whenever you were with Jaemin, you’d find yourself staring at him for a while, watching a soft smile form on his lips whenever he caught your gaze. Every moment spent with him was filled with gestures of affection, and each one made your heart flutter with happiness.

── .✦

It was a special day—the annual cheer team competition, a major event for universities, where cheer teams from different schools came together to compete.

Your and Winter's universities were among them.

Since Winter was part of her university's cheer team, you knew you'd be seeing her today. Although you hadn’t spoken to her since her last message, you often found yourself checking her social media to keep up with her. From her posts, you could tell she’d been busy with cheer and had started partying less. You even came across a post where she had tried baking—a new hobby she had taken up to keep herself occupied. Sometimes, you wondered if she thought of you as much as you thought of her, or if she ever stalked your social media or checked in on your friends' posts to see how you were doing.

“Hi, here’s a free cupcake for you!” one of the students from another university said, offering a cupcake with their cheer team's name on it.

“Oh, but I’m from a different university,” you chuckled.

The person smiled and insisted, “This is a friendly competition! Take it.”

You accepted the cupcake with a thank you and made your way to your seat, where your friends and Jaemin were already waiting.

You glanced at the cupcake, noticing it had the logo of Winter’s cheer team on it. A soft smile crossed your face as you realized it was from her team. You missed Winter so much.

As you began nibbling on the cupcake, you shared it with Jaemin, unaware that Winter herself had baked it. She and her team had made the cupcakes for their supporters, and she knew you'd be there. Winter could only smile to herself as she watched you in the crowd, munching on the cupcake she had made.

Winter noticed Jaemin sitting beside you, opening a bottle of water for you while you enjoyed the sweet treat. This time, she didn’t feel that uneasy knot in her stomach. Her smile wasn’t bittersweet; it was genuine.

Fuck Girl Code.

Na Jaemin was truly looking after you, just as she had hoped.

"I hope you don’t think of me too much, I don’t want you to be sad over someone like me," Winter whispered to herself, watching as you and Jaemin laughed at something, Jaemin kissing the back of your hand as if it were second nature.

Suddenly, your eyes met Winter's. You were taken aback to see her looking at you, but instead of turning away or ignoring you, Winter gave you a warm smile. You returned the smile, and maybe, for now, that was all that mattered.

── .✦

tags: @carelessshootanonymous @taliaamara @zgzgzh @tinyzen @urlocalbeaner5 @profoundruinsunknown @lovesuhng @moryymor @haechanmybaechan @mmjhh1998 @cottonjaems @darumdarimdaa @hyucksnctzen @cherryynoir @haechanahceah67 @cigarettesafterjae @eternoange1 @yananluvclub @doubledoie @t-102 @nosungluv @aracy @haesluvr @charlunaotte @hyuksworld @maarslvr

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magicdustsworld · 25 days ago

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THE MEETING

Zayne x non mc!reader

Visits to the local cafe down the street is your daily norm; essentially when you have to make important decisions. Yet, who knew that co-incidentally placing the same order together would pave way for the sweetest meet cute?

Tropes: strangers to lovers, fluff.

WC: 2.3k

divider credits - @cafekitsune

“One snow mountain donut, please!”

No sooner did you step in front of the counter and called out your order, did another voice overlaps with yours. You crane your neck—looking up at the customer whose choice happened to match with yours. A man. A shade of warm green encased beneath a pair of spectacles stares back at you; tousled dark bangs falling over his forehead, despite seeming to have been combed, its clear fingers have ran through them. Sharp features and his steely gaze locks on yours, a furrow appearing on his brows moments later.

That's your cue to know that you have been staring for much longer than necessary and you quickly avert your to the front.

Geez... way to make a first impression.

You were about to drown yourself into a river of self inflicted depreciation, when the barista answered from behind the counter. “Uh sorry,” he says, gaze flickering between you and the man, “It seems we only have one left– and we are out of extras.”

Huh? You blink at the barista. Then, following his line of sight, you find the tray of the aforementioned donut placed on the table top; and true to his words, there is only one left. Sitting singularly as a king of nothing on the tray littered with crumbs—but seeming inviting as always.

Man, could this day get any worse?

Although you have had a long day, the exhaustion does not clamour you like it does usually; therefore, it'd be better if the man beside you—

“It's fine, she can have them.”

“What?” You whip around your head so fast you could have inflicted a sprain on your neck. Regardless, you see the man taking a step back and immediately, you speak, “No, its fine. I need to leave now, anyways.”

His attention shifts to you, “I insist.” Raising his palm, indicating you have a go, “You look like you need it more.”

“I possibly can't,” You shake your head, taking a step back. “Besides, you were here before me.”

He hums, “Ladies first.”

“Thank you for the gesture but…” You trail off, looking at the delicacy then back at him, “its fine, I come here everyday so—”

"Believe me when I say I come here everyday as well." He responds, waiting a second before, “So please—”

You stare at him and he stares right back at you. Unlike the neutrality plaguing his features, a forced smile quirks your lips in an attempt to not appear impolite. You can't help it, with the way your bland expression rests, someone might consider you would be planning homicide in your head—therefore, the extra measure. Nonetheless, holding eye contact with the stranger does surge adrenaline through your veins, making you hyper-sensitive to the scene in front of you and yet, you couldn't bring yourself to rip your gaze off of him.

However, to cease the uncertain dwam you and this stranger has found yourself in, the barista speaks again, “Would it be fine, if you both share the donut amongst yourselves?”

Since the last ten minutes that you have seated yourself with this stranger in the booth, you both did nothing but stew in silence.

And, yes, stranger.

You decide to call him that because you haven't exchanged names– hell! You both haven't exchanged any words after the barista laid his suggestion to share the donut in half. A proposition both of you happened to have agreed upon; albeit, in quiet solitude.

Your americano brews in your cup, the warmth seeping to your palms as you clutch the material a little too tightly than intended. You can't help it. Agitation crawls up your skin from time to time. Add it with the dread of sitting with someone you barely know at a table—in such a close proximity—and sharing what happens to be one of your favourite dessert, is enough for you to wish you had backed out when the time was right. Yet, it's too late for that. You are here now and you can only hope to drink your coffee in record time and leave after paying in full.

You check your watch — 15:22, and the sun has begun to set past the horizon —or past the vast skyscrapers of Linkon city as you can see. The light filters through the glass on the window pane, falling on the table where white lilies rest in a vase.

For reasons unknown, you muster the courage to look at the stranger sitting across you. His face is angled towards the window, catching the aesthetically pleasing sun-kissed glow. He scrolls on his phone—expression terse as if whatever's on the screen has done nothing but displease him—coffee in another hand, the steam curling in the space between. As if sensing your stare, he looks up—catching your eyes and instinctively you shift your gaze to your lap. Heat creeps from your cheeks to your ears due to the embarrassment of being caught staring. In order to deflect the pressure of the situation, you extend your hand towards the plate of sitting between you both—without looking. And it may have been that he has done the same in the exact moment as a result of which—your fingers brush. A jolt of electricity surges through your veins—making you recoil instantly.

Your stranger in return, pushes the plate towards you and you tug it to yourself in a second before slicing the donut (in what you assume) two equal parts and transferring one to him. He receives it without so much as a word and you recline back on your seat, heaving a deep breath.

No sooner have you begun to shed off the stress coiling in your chest, does your stranger’s grave voice cut through the pressure. “Do I disgust you?”

Instantly your head shoots up, “What?”

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, arching his elbow on the table and resting his cheek over his fist. “You like you'd be anywhere but here.”

“No! Absolutely not sir—”

“Zayne.”

You blink, “Huh?”

“My name,” he responds, taking a bite of his half elliptical dessert, “If we are going to be here for awhile, I believe it'd be better if we get rid of the formality.”

“O-oh,” you didn't intend to stutter but your voice had to be a bitch in broad twilight. Feigning a cough under your breath, you continue, “That's a great name.”

Fuck!

Why are you hell bent on making a fool out of yourself today?

Zayne doesn't seem to mind the awkward nature of the question, just briefing a hum. “Is this the part where we are going to pretend this isn't weird?”

Caught off guard by the sudden shift in atmosphere—you merely just stare at him. “Well, if you—”

“It's not a matter of my choice,” he cuts you off but for some reason, you don't mind. His tone is smooth—bordering sarcastic; but you could see the hint of amusement dancing beneath his glasses. “But if I have time make a statement then I have seen diplomatic negotiations continue with less tension than our standoff.”

You snort—completely involuntary; realization sweeps in and you cover your mouth with your hand.

However, a corner of Zayne's lip curls up—so meagre and so faint that if you haven't been sitting so close, you wouldn't have catch it. “So you can laugh. Good– I was wondering if my existence was offensive to you in any regard.”

“You aren't offensive,” you reply, lowering your hand from your mouth. A shy smile tracing your lips, “Maybe a little strict.”

“Strict, you say?”

“Well, that's the only impression I have till now.”

“I made you laugh–” He points out. “that must be enough for you to owe me some appreciation.”

“And you are smug.” The words are out before you have the second to think and the creeping sense of it sounding as an insult gnaws in, “No– shit! I am so sorry, I didn't mean that. Of course, I do owe you–”

“Relax. I am not going to eat you,” Zayne interrupts you again but seeing that you are no where near the needed respite, he continues “Take a deep breath, calm down.”

Although your heart is thundering, you follow his advice—inhaling an amount of air before letting it out slowly.

“Drink some water.”

You do.

After the liquid has moistened your parched throat, you set down the glass after wiping your lips. When you look up at him, he's still watching you—unbothered and composed; just like he was all this time.

“You are tense,” he states, “Is there something bothering you?”

Yes.

“No,” you scratch the back of your neck, “Uh, not a bother truly. just have to make a decision and��”

“And you are afraid that what you are inclining towards may not be the right choice.”

Your eyes meets his again. There's no spark, just a dull weight pressing down on your chest. Are you really so easy to read? You swallow a lump before nodding. “I will be starting my internship soon but my parents want me to return home and work from there.”

“And you want to stay back?”

“Mhm, hm.” you shrug, folding your hands over your chest. “They say people tend to lose connections when they are away from each other. It's best to remain close.”

Zayne listens. Fixating you with a stare as you go on about what has been keeping you stress today. Taking a second, his gaze drifts to the window, his expression marrs as if he is thinking. Then, he turns to you again, “How long have you been living here?”

“Not much, just five years.”

“And did you lose this acclaimed connection with them?”

“No.”

“Then why now?”

“They think, I will.” Leaning back on your chair, you check on your cuticles, “They aren't completely wrong, I have changed and I don't know… What if they are right?”

“Changes are mandotary.” He replies as a matter of fact, sipping a generous amount of his coffee. “And if you really wanted to forget them then you wouldn't be stressing over it in a suburban cafe right now.”

“Yeah but… I don't know the future.”

“No one does.” He pauses for a second. “Bonfires still burn in snowstorms if it's meant to. Same way two books in a shelf can sit side by side and tell completely different stories. Intent matters more than distance.”

The analogies do provoke countless thoughts to run through your mind. Maybe, if you try hard enough, you could garner your parents’ approval as well.

You look at him and a haze of something unknown washes over you. Rising, soft and slow but you don't know what or whom does it belong. But it's here and it's tender, so you don't want it to end. Maybe its the coffee or the fading light, it could very precariously be the jazz playing in the background—but the moment it creates is beautiful. The kind that seems like trouble yet you let it linger long.

“You are awfully good at this,” amazement flickers in your irises when you say it. In order to make a jest, you say, “What? Do you give out advices for free or did I meet a psychologist?”

Zayne huffs; akin to a laugh but he quickly covers it with his monotonous tone. “Close. I am a cardiac surgeon at Akso hospital.”

“Wait– Akso?”

Briefly, his eyebrows furrow, “Is that a problem?”

“No, I just– I never thought you are a surgeon.” You asnwer truthfully. There’s a pause—a lapse in time before you start again, “I am—”

Beep! Beep!

The buzzing of his phone prompts you to stop. Zayne pulls out the device, swiping on the called ID then pressing it near his ear. Merely did you notice the initial G on his screen; however, what you do notice is the subtle changes in his visage—like how his eyebrows have arched, or the stern glint in his green eyes or the way his lips have curved as he speaks on the call and dare you say that you find it attractive.

Lets's stop there…

You aren't even given the moment to stew in your thoughts when Zayne hangs the call, before standing up. “There’s an emergency, I need to leave.” He doesn't even spare you a glance before draping his coat over his shoulders and strolling out of the booth like both of you were merely strangers.

In a way, you are.

You watch him leave; although the words of farewell floats on the tip of your lips, you hold them back. And he doesn't wait for any pleasantries either. Antonymous to what you expected, you do not miss Zayne after he leaves. Still inclined in your posture, the half donut remains untouched on your plate—while his consumed entirely, the same goes for his coffee.

You remain in the booth for another ten minutes, watching as the dusk culminates into night, dousing the city in its darkness. The fork rests on your vacant plate, the cup of Americano holding the last recesses. Reaching for the tissue, you find the tray empty. Your gaze flickers over the table—you were sure, you saw a tissue there before, so where could it be? Then, you halt on the empty plate where the dessert was kept initially. Underneath it lay the aforementioned tissue—seeming to have folded and tucked with caution. You pull it to yourself, opening the edges to find:

The advices aren't for free. I hope to collect my appreciation and your name as dues, the next time.

The Text is short. Nothing extravagant or ground shattering as you have seen being glorified on social media. But you don't need that because you are smiling. Not the usual kind where you have to force yourself to seem pleasant to others but a genuine one that stretches across your lips because the elation in your heart is too much to beat. The type where your teeth peeking out and the type where your jaw hurts from smiling. No- scratch that! its not a smile, its a grin and its one, you are having the first time in months so you don't want it to end.

Involuntarily, your grip tightens over the tissue. You press it to your chest, heaving a deep breath.

Great! Now you do miss him.

#magic!writes #zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x non mc #zayne lads #zayne fluff #zayne x reader fluff #zayne x you #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace x reader #zayne lnds #lads x reader #lnds x reader #zayne x y/n #lads fluff #lnds fluff #lads zayne #lnds zayne

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laurentpark · 3 months ago

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don’t tell my boyfriend! — [16] glow

synopsis. where jimin stalks her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend after a certain incident happened and couldn’t help but grow hatred over her. coincidentally, her and jimin happen to be global ambassadors of the same famous luxury brand and have to work together for a commercial. at first, jimin despised the girl with all her flesh and bones but soon understands why her boyfriend fell for the young actress in the first place… because she was starting to fall for the young actress as well.

warning: slightly suggestive.

the cameras have finally stopped rolling for the last time, and the energy on set is electric with relief. the crew is scattered across the studio, laughing, packing up equipment, and exchanging congratulations on a job well done. the commercial that had taken weeks to shoot is officially complete.

but feels none of the relief that seems to flood the room. instead, there’s an odd tightness in her chest, a strange mix of restlessness and dread that she can’t quite shake.

because this is it. the last day. the last time she’ll share the same space with y/n like this.

the thought twists in her gut.

she slips away from the crowd, heels clicking softly against the polished concrete floor as she steps into one of the quieter corners of the studio. the lounge area is empty now, the warm, ambient lighting casting long shadows on the plush couches and glass coffee table.

jimin sinks onto one of the couches, kicking off her heels and rubbing her aching feet. the silence here feels almost deafening compared to the noise outside, but it’s exactly what she needs.

or so she thinks.

“hiding out?”

her head snaps up, and there she is—y/n, standing in the doorway, framed by the glow of the studio lights behind her. she’s still in her givenchy outfit, the crisp fabric hugging her frame in all the right ways. her hair is slightly tousled, her makeup worn just enough to soften the sharp edges of her beauty.

jimin swallows hard and forces herself to look away, pretending to fuss with the strap of her heel. “not hiding. just�� taking a break.”

y/n steps inside, the sound of her footsteps light against the carpeted floor. “thought i’d find you here. you’ve been avoiding the crowd all day.”

“just not in the mood for the whole ‘congratulations, we made it’ thing,” jimin replies, her voice light but clipped.

y/n hums, setting a takeaway cup of iced americano on the table in front of jimin. “here. figured you could use it.”

jimin raises an eyebrow, picking up the cup. “are you trying to butter me up for something?”

y/n smirks, settling onto the couch across from her. “what would i even have to butter you up for? you killed it today.”

jimin takes a sip, letting the bitterness of the coffee ground her. “guess i’ll find out soon enough.”

silence stretches between them for a moment, broken only by the distant hum of voices and equipment being packed up. jimin keeps her gaze fixed on her drink, but she can feel y/n’s eyes on her, watching her with that quiet intensity that always sets her on edge.

finally, y/n speaks, her tone softer now. “so… this is it, huh?”

jimin glances up, frowning. “what do you mean?”

“last day,” y/n says simply, leaning back against the couch. “no more shoots, no more meetings. we won’t be working together anymore after today.”

jimin’s stomach sinks. she knew this already, of course. but hearing y/n say it out loud makes it feel too real.

“you’re really just going to leave like that?” jimin says, her voice sharper than she intended.

y/n tilts her head, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “what do you mean, like that? we’ve wrapped the project. there’s no reason for me to stick around.”

jimin sits up straighter, her brow furrowing. “no reason?”

y/n raises an eyebrow. “what’s this about, jimin?”

jimin opens her mouth, ready to deflect with some quip or excuse, but the words catch in her throat. instead, she finds herself blurting out something else entirely.

“i know about you and jaewook.”

y/n freezes. her expression doesn’t betray much, but jimin catches the brief flicker of surprise in her eyes.

“oh,” y/n says quietly.

“yeah,” jimin replies, crossing her arms. “oh.”

y/n exhales, leaning forward slightly. “so you know. okay. and?”

jimin narrows her eyes. “and? you didn’t think it was worth mentioning that you used to date my boyfriend?”

“no,” y/n says simply, her tone calm but firm. “because it didn’t feel relevant. i’m not the one still involved with him. you are.”

the bluntness of her words stings, but jimin doesn’t back down. “so you thought it was fine to just… hang out with me? knowing how complicated this is?”

y/n shrugs, holding jimin’s gaze. “you’re the one who agreed to lunch, jimin. and if i’m being honest… i just wanted to get to know you.”

jimin blinks, caught off guard. “why?”

a faint smile plays on y/n’s lips. “because you’re interesting. and maybe because… you’re kind of hard to ignore.”

jimin feels her heart stutter, heat rising in her chest. she hates how easily y/n can disarm her like this, how her calm confidence always seems to tilt the balance of power between them.

“you’re unbelievable,” jimin mutters, though her voice lacks conviction.

y/n leans back, crossing her legs. “you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

jimin lets out a shaky laugh, shaking her head. “you’re impossible, you know that?”

“and yet, here you are,” y/n replies, her tone light but pointed.

the tension between them is almost suffocating now, the air heavy with everything unsaid. jimin glances at the door, making sure it’s still closed before standing up and taking a steps closer to y/n.

“you’re really just going to leave without saying you’ll miss me?” jimin asks, her voice low and teasing.

y/n stares at her, startled. “what?”

jimin doesn’t give her a chance to respond. she leans in, her lips brushing against y/n’s in a kiss that’s soft but deliberate, lingering just long enough to leave no room for misinterpretation.

the kiss was soft but firm. jimin’s lips moved gently against y/n’s as though she was savoring the moment. the actress could feel the heat of jimin’s body pressed against her own, the way her fingers dug into the curve of her hip as if trying to hold her as close as possible.

suddenly, jimin’s hand was on her jaw. tilting her head up slightly to deepen the kiss. the feeling of her tongue slipping inside of her mouth was intoxicating, sending a shiver of pleasure down her spine and eliciting a soft gasp from her.

when jimin pulls back, her voice is barely above a whisper. “don’t tell jaewook.”

y/n’s eyes widen, her expression a mix of shock and something else jimin can’t quite name.

“don’t tell my boyfriend.” the idol repeats, her voice now becoming pleading. her hand was still on y/n’s hip, her thumb absentmindedly tracing small, circular motions on the skin exposed there. there was a certain wicked gleam in her eyes, a mischievous glimmer that sent shivers down y/n's spine.

y/n swallows hard, her breath shaky as she takes a small step back. “you’re playing a dangerous game, jimin.”

jimin tilts her head, her smirk unwavering. “maybe. but didn’t you say i killed it today?”

y/n exhales, shaking her head with a mix of disbelief and something else jimin doesn’t dare name. “you’re impossible.”

time seems to blur after that—quiet laughs, stolen touches, and a closeness jimin can’t bring herself to pull away from. by the time they step out of the room, the rest of the crew is still bustling around, oblivious to what just happened behind closed doors.

as they walk side by side toward the exit, one of the crew members glances up and tilts their head. “you’re both glowing more than usual today. did something happen?”

jimin and y/n exchange a glance, their expressions carefully neutral.

“must be the lighting,” jimin says smoothly, her lips twitching into a small, knowing smile.

y/n bites back a laugh, nudging jimin’s shoulder as they continue walking, their secret safely tucked away—for now.

prev. next. masterlist

tags. @xen248 @szooo @yunalvrrr @yeetaberry127 @lisaswifey @gtfoiydlyj j @c-yerim @jeindall777 @multiliker @hyejin67 @cwpiqwon @sunshinez4 @yoontoonwhs @wintersgff @womanl0ver @sixflame438 @rinapomu @ahnneyong @syronns @yukianism @winieter @inybits @nctislifue @pandafuriosa60 @peranoo @ajjilhan

#aespa x reader #karina #karina x reader #aespa #don’t tell my boyfriend!#kpop #giselle #kpop x reader #winter #ningning #ning yizhuo #yoo jimin x reader #yoo jimin #kim minjeong #minjeong #aeri uchinaga #kpop smau

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myseungsunglove · 15 days ago

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Birds of a Feather | Ksm

Pairing: Kim Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: fluff and feelings

A/N: Sometimes I just have to write when I’m having all the feelings and tonight I’m certainly having them all. Yesterday also marked my official two year stay-i-versary after I listened to maniac on repeat for nearly two months, I finally looked Stray Kids names up on that fateful day in 2023. I’m feeling a little emotional about it, and “Birds of a Feather” being released too. So I did this.

“You know this is for you,” Seungmin says as he writes on the paper he plans to put inside the ninth Songby cassette case.

“For me?” you parrot, not understanding what he is referring to as you snap a picture for when he posts behind pictures once the Songby drops at the end of March.

“Yes,” he agrees, as if that clears everything up.

You can’t help but laugh to yourself as you narrow your eyes, scrutinizing his movements, remaining silent but watching him closely.

After a few beats of silence, he speaks up again.

“I picked the song for you,” he clarifies, finishing what he is writing and putting the marker down on the table, grabbing his iced americano to take a sip looking up at you. His eyes are shinning, a stunning and piercing deep brown that you get lost in every time they meet yours.

He sets down his drink and moves to stand, his slender hands sliding into his coat pocket. Briefly he comes face to face with you, before his height eclipses yours and you are forced to look up at him. You feel small when staring up at him, but also safe. You breathe deep, unable to keep your longing sigh at bay.

“For me,” you echo again, full of wisdom and eloquence today.

“Yes,” Seungmin smiles. “And so is this if you’ll have me,” he adds. He has pulled something from his pocket but you are too busy staring at his beautiful face to really notice.

“Don’t I already have you,” you tease with a small chuckle, as Seungmin slowly falls to one knee. Your heart stops beating for a moment as your brain catches up with the events unfolding before you.

“Yes, you most certainly do,” he smiles, opening the box.

Your hands fly to your mouth and tears threaten to make an appearance. Kim Seungmin is proposing to you.

“I love you,” he grins proudly. “Don’t act surprised.”

The sob that you have kept at bay bursts forth, and before you know it, your on your knees with your arms around Seungmin’s shoulders, holding him tightly as you cry gently into his neck.

“Birds of a feather, we should stick together,” Seungmin says, his lips pressing gently against your neck, one hand rubbing your back soothingly. “Preferably I’d like to stick together forever. I didn’t really believe in that until you,” he admits. “And then STAY,” he adds. “Now all I want is forever. Marry me?”

You pull away from holding Seungmin close to look into his eyes.

“You can have all of my forevers, Kim Seungmin,” you smile at him. He is holding your hand now, slipping a beautiful, perfect ring onto your finger your eyes staying locked with his. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

It’s his turn to pull you close, his lips pressing gently against yours, and it’s like you’ve never breathed air so sweet. He kisses you like you have forever.

If this is forever, even better.

#stray kids #kim seungmin #seungmin #stray kids x reader #seungmin x reader #seungmin imagine #seungmin fanfiction #kim seungmin fanfiction

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daenysx · 3 months ago

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mmmm any thoughts on modern!sirius? 😌

YES, here are some modern!sirius headcanons (at least what i imagine)

um- so this man is hauntingly beautiful

i think sirius has this intimidating kind of beauty, you wanna look away but you can't

black curls and shiny eyes and lovely lips

written by lana del rey

his favorite lana album is ultraviolence

leather jacket is a life style

he once wore it when it's snowing like when it's dangerously cold and got sick after

remus was like 'what were you expecting'

and sirius was like 'mm-no regrets'

charming as hell

and he's like super sarcastic

just imagine how charming he should be to let you ignore his sarcasm

he likes drinking americano with an extra shot

always cold hands. only gets warm when he lets you hold them.

leans down to hear you better. and what is this like the boyfriend material?

he's a night owl, enjoys the darkness of the night and the silence of his room

but then he can never wake up on time in the morning

he sleeps with three pillows

puts his head between two of them and uses the other to wrap his arm around it

his hair always gets messy but he knows how to fix them by using the right products (we all know he knows what to use right?)

tattoos

lots of them sprinkled on his chest

likes being kissed on them

loves getting hickeys on them

oh- speaking of hickeys let me get a lil smutty here

i feel like he knows what he wants and also knows how to get it

teases a lot but you don't even notice sometimes because he kisses his way out of everything

a big fan of sleepy sex

also a big fan of having you on top

he likes wearing rings and guess what

he doesn't really take them off when he touches you

he always talks you through it

adores how you tilt your head back as he makes you come- and the noises you let out

yeah you have him wrapped around your finger right there

smokes after sex

loves having the windows open and feel the fresh air on his bare skin

he's so dramatic sometimes

sometimes?

oops sorry i meant always

but he looks good when he pouts so do we even care

he likes when you pull his hair (i literally have a fic for it right here)

and he's kinda insatiable when he's not sleepy or grumpy, he just likes touching and being close to you

drives remus crazy by doing literally anything

he loves doing it (we kinda ship them here you know this) so he'll never stop

he would die for remus and james

and regulus

oh regulus

in my mind they always argue but they would die for each other so-

happy happy life with the black brothers

sirius pretends he hates it when you say regulus is right on something but he actually enjoys it- like i said a man of drama

loves getting forehead kisses (click here for more on this!)

loves falling asleep on your thighs

loves getting his hair played with

do i really have to say he loves slow scratches on his skin? i mean he's modern life padfoot come on

speaking of padfoot- he's a dog person

he thinks he can actually speak with dogs

i think that's all i have for now

you can send me an ask if you want more! <3

#sirius black #sirius black x you #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black fic #sirius black thoughts #sirius black fanfic #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black headcanons #sirius black headcanon #sirius x you #sirius x reader #sirius x fem!reader #the marauders #marauders imagine #marauders

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imreidswifey · 3 months ago

Text

“𝐄𝐬𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨”𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 -𝐒.𝐫-

Bad pun but I thought it was cute

Summary: Barista reader develops a crush on regular customer Dr. Spencer Reid, leaving cheesy pick-up lines on his coffee cup each day to make him smile.

Genre: Romantic Comedy

Ship: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

———————————————————————————-

It was the highlight of your mornings: the familiar sound of the bell above the café door, signaling the arrival of your favorite customer. Dr. Spencer Reid.

He was unlike anyone you’d ever met—or served coffee to. Tall, with a lanky build and hair that always seemed on the verge of rebellion, Spencer exuded a quiet confidence wrapped in endearing awkwardness. His mismatched socks and habit of nervously fiddling with his messenger bag strap as he waited for his coffee added to the charm.

You’d been working at Bean There, Brewed That for six months now, and Spencer had been a regular since day one. The man was a creature of habit. He always ordered the same thing: a large Americano with two sugars, and he always brought a book to read while he sipped his drink.

But it wasn’t his order that captivated you. It was his quiet “thank you,” the shy smile that accompanied it, and the way his eyes lit up when he read something particularly interesting in his book.

Which was why, about a month ago, you decided to get brave. It started small—a smiley face on his cup. Then a quote from a book you thought he might like. Then, one morning, you decided to do something completely out of character for yourself: you wrote a bad pick-up line on his cup.

“Are you a magician? Because every time I look at you, everyone else disappears.”

You had fully expected him to throw the cup away without a second glance. But instead, he’d chuckled—a low, soft sound—and looked up at you with wide, hazel eyes. “Did you… come up with this?” he asked, tilting his head in genuine curiosity.

“Uh, no,” you admitted, heat rushing to your cheeks. “I found it online.”

And just like that, a new ritual began. Every day, you’d write a cheesy pick-up line on Spencer’s cup. And every day, he’d read it, smile, and sometimes even laugh.

Today was no different. You stood behind the counter, feeling a little nervous as you scrawled today’s line onto his cup. When Spencer entered, looking as disheveled and adorable as ever, you felt your stomach flip.

“Good morning, Dr. Reid,” you said, handing him his Americano.

“Good morning,” he replied, his gaze lingering on you a second longer than usual.

He took the cup, his long fingers brushing yours briefly, and read the line aloud: “Are you French? Because Eiffel for you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, but what you didn’t expect was for Spencer to blush. His cheeks turned pink, and he looked up at you through his lashes, his lips twitching into an uncharacteristically shy smile.

“That’s… clever,” he murmured, his voice softer than usual.

“Yeah, well, I figured you deserved a good laugh,” you said, trying to sound casual.

Spencer lingered for a moment, his fingers tapping anxiously against the cup. Finally, he cleared his throat. “You know, statistically speaking, people who share bad pick-up lines with someone are often more interested in… getting to know them better.”

Your heart skipped a beat. Was this Spencer Reid’s way of flirting?

“Are you saying you’re onto me, Dr. Reid?” you teased, your voice light but your heart pounding.

Spencer tilted his head, his gaze unwavering. “I think I’ve been onto you for a while now,” he admitted, his blush deepening.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. Then he took a deep breath and set his coffee cup down on the counter.

“Would you… like to get coffee sometime? Outside of this place, I mean. Not that I don’t like this place—I do, obviously—but maybe we could… you know, talk more? Without the counter between us?”

It was the most endearing, rambling attempt at asking someone out you’d ever heard.

“I’d like that,” you said, smiling so wide your cheeks hurt.

Spencer let out a breath of relief, picking up his cup again. “Great. I’ll… uh, see you tomorrow, then?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed, watching as he walked away, his step just a little lighter than usual.

And on the counter where his cup had been, you noticed something written in his small, neat handwriting:

“Are you a barista? Because you’ve bean on my mind all day.”

Two days later, you found yourself sitting at a cozy little coffee shop across town. Spencer had suggested it, claiming it had “statistically superior coffee” compared to most places.

He arrived precisely on time, wearing a patterned button-down shirt, a sweater vest, and a slightly crooked tie. His hair looked a little more tamed than usual, but there was still a wild curl that defied gravity. He carried a book under his arm—a habit, you guessed, he’d never break.

“Hi,” he said, shifting nervously as he stood by the table.

“Hi,” you replied, smiling up at him. “You’re right on time.”

“Punctuality is… important,” he said, his voice a little higher-pitched than usual. He cleared his throat and sat across from you, placing the book on the table. “I, uh, wasn’t sure what you liked, so I did some research. I mean, not on you specifically—just in general about first dates. Statistically, coffee dates are considered a low-pressure option.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound easing some of his tension. “You did research for this date?”

His blush deepened, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m not exactly… well-versed in this kind of thing. I wanted to make sure I didn’t mess it up.”

“You’re doing great so far,” you said, and you meant it.

The barista arrived to take your orders, and Spencer surprised you by remembering exactly how you liked your coffee. He must’ve noticed your expression, because he offered a sheepish smile. “I pay attention,” he said simply.

The conversation that followed was effortless. Spencer was awkward at first, fumbling with his words and occasionally losing his train of thought, but once he found his rhythm, he was captivating. He told you about his work—though he kept the more gruesome details to a minimum—and you listened, fascinated, as he explained behavioral patterns and statistical anomalies.

“You’re really passionate about what you do,” you said, leaning forward.

“I guess I am,” he admitted, his voice soft. “It’s not an easy job, but… helping people? It’s worth it.”

“And who helps you?” you asked before you could stop yourself.

Spencer blinked, caught off guard by the question. “My team,” he said after a moment. “They’re like family to me. But… I guess I don’t always make time for myself.”

“Well,” you said, offering a smile, “maybe we can work on that.”

He looked at you then, his gaze so intense it made your breath hitch. “I’d like that,” he said quietly.

As the date went on, you discovered more about him: his love for science fiction, his fascination with obscure facts, and his absolute hatred of cilantro. In turn, you shared pieces of yourself, and he listened with an attentiveness that made you feel seen in a way you never had before.

When the coffee cups were empty and the conversation had slowed, neither of you made a move to leave. Spencer finally broke the silence, his fingers nervously tracing patterns on the table.

“I, um, I had a really nice time,” he said.

“Me too,” you replied, your voice warm.

“I’d like to do this again,” he added, his words rushed, as if he was afraid he’d lose his nerve.

You reached across the table, your fingers brushing his. “I’d like that too.”

For the first time, Spencer smiled—not his usual shy, fleeting smile, but something brighter, more confident. It was a smile that made you realize you’d been right about him all along.

Dr. Spencer Reid might be awkward, brilliant, and a little socially inept, but he was also kind, thoughtful, and deeply, unapologetically himself

And as he walked you home that evening, his hand brushing against yours, you knew one thing for certain: you’d write a thousand bad pick-up lines if it meant seeing him smile like that again.

#mgg #mgg fanfiction #mgg pics #mgg x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #i love mgg #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid x you #x reader

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ducktoo · 4 months ago

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Office Antics

Yena x Reader

Note: Recently rewatched Hyemileeyechaepa and man I missed 2/3 of Jo Yuriz. If you haven't watch it yet I really recommend yall to do it!

Here's for fellow resident duck.

The office was alive with the familiar hum of keyboards and the occasional ring of phones. It was another Monday morning, and as usual, you were the first one at your desk, sipping a subpar instant coffee you’d made from the breakroom. The workday ahead promised to be a mountain of reports, client proposals, and dreaded spreadsheet formatting—tasks that demanded focus. Yet, your mind wasn’t on the work.

No, your thoughts were fixated on a certain someone who had yet to show up.

Choi Yena. Your supervisor. The office’s resident prankster. The embodiment of chaos wrapped in pastel blazers and a permanent grin. She was always the last one to arrive but somehow managed to make her presence known instantly, turning even the dullest workday into a whirlwind of noise and mischief.

You were halfway through organizing the team’s task list for the day when the elevator doors dinged.

Speak of the devil.

“Good morning!” Yena’s sing-song voice bounced off the walls as she burst through the door, holding two iced coffees in her hands. Her grin stretched wide as she plopped one down on your desk.

“Iced Americano for my favourite team member,” she chirped.

You raised an eyebrow, instantly suspicious. The last time she gave you coffee, it was spiked with salt instead of sugar. “What’s the catch, Sunbae?”

Her eyes widened in mock offense. “No catch! Can’t a supervisor just be nice to her hardworking team?”

“Not when that supervisor is Choi Yena,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes.

She gasped, clutching her chest as if wounded. “Wow. The lack of trust here is unbelievable. I’ll have you know that I’m turning over a new leaf. No pranks today, I swear.”

You weren’t buying it, but the coffee smelled too good to resist. With a cautious sip, you confirmed it was safe. No salt, no hot sauce, no glitter bombs waiting to explode. Yena watched you expectantly, her lips twitching like she was holding back laughter.

“What?” you asked, already bracing yourself for whatever she had planned.

“Nothing!” she said, a little too quickly, before skipping back to her desk.

Work officially started at 9:00 a.m., and the day unfolded like any other. You were in charge of preparing the weekly task overview—assigning smaller chunks of projects to each team member while flagging urgent deadlines.

The first task on your list was compiling data for the company’s quarterly performance review. You groaned inwardly, knowing the amount of cross-referencing it would require.

“Hey, sunbae, can we talk about the client feedback report for the Kim & Lee project?” you called over to her.

“Of course,” she replied, spinning her chair dramatically before walking over to your desk with her usual exaggerated flair. “Let’s tackle this head-on. Serious Yena-sunbae mode: engaged.”

You slid the draft report across the desk. “The issue is with the client’s notes on the second phase. They’re asking for an entirely new cost analysis, and we’ve got a two-day turnaround. Can we reassign some of my other tasks?”

Yena leaned over, scanning the document with a furrowed brow. For once, she was genuinely focused. “Hmm. Good point. Let’s offload some of this to Eunji and Sungho. I’ll handle the final approval.” She gave you a thumbs up. “Boom. Delegation, baby.”

By mid-morning, the office had settled into its usual rhythm: the quiet clatter of keyboards, the hum of printers, and the occasional buzz of phones. You were elbow-deep in Excel, trying to fix a formula that some long-forgotten coworker had created to "streamline" the quarterly financial summaries.

Spoiler alert: it didn’t.

“Why does this formula look like someone coded a secret message?” you muttered, leaning closer to your monitor. You had just started unravelling the mess when—

“Ya, ya, yoohoo!” Yena’s voice broke through your concentration, startling you so badly you nearly toppled out of your chair. She was suddenly looming over your desk, holding up a packet of snacks like she’d just discovered gold.

“Want some dried mango?” she asked, dangling the packet in front of your face.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “…Sunbae, do you even work here, or are you just here to disrupt me?”

“Excuse me, I’m your supervisor. Disruption is part of my job description,” she said with a wink. “But seriously, how’s it going with that finance thingy?”

“It’s not a ‘thingy,’ it’s a nightmare,” you replied, gesturing to your screen. “This formula makes no sense. It’s like someone deliberately made it as complicated as possible.”

“Let me see,” she said, pulling up a chair beside you. She squinted at the screen, then immediately leaned back, shaking her head. “Yeah, nope. That’s a you problem. I’m more of a ‘big picture’ kind of gal.”

“Wow, so helpful,” you deadpanned.

“Hey, I didn’t say I couldn’t help in other ways!” she chirped, pulling out her phone.

“Oh no. What are you—”

“Shhh. I’m solving your problem,” she said, cutting you off as she started typing furiously. A moment later, she grinned and held up her phone. “Ta-da!”

You squinted at the screen. It was a meme about how Excel was designed to make grown adults cry.

“Very funny,” you said, but a small smile tugged at your lips.

“See? I’m boosting morale. That’s like, half my job as a supervisor,” she said, patting you on the shoulder before skipping off to her own desk.

Five minutes later, the printer jammed.

“YENA-SSI!” someone from the design team shouted.

She popped her head up like a prairie dog. “What? It wasn’t me!”

“It’s always you!”

“I take that personally,” she said, hopping up from her chair and making her way to the printer. “I’ll have you know, I’m a model employee. Watch and learn, folks.”

You glanced over just in time to see her dramatically roll up her sleeves, as if she were about to perform life-saving surgery. She yanked open the printer tray, dug around for a moment, and triumphantly held up the offending piece of paper, which was crumpled beyond recognition.

“Fixed it!” she declared, tossing the mangled paper into the trash.

The printer whirred back to life, and the team gave her a half-hearted round of applause.

“Thank you, thank you,” she said, bowing theatrically. Then, as she walked back to her desk, she sprinkled star-shaped confetti onto the floor behind her like she was leaving a trail of breadcrumbs.

You sighed, already knowing who would be tasked with vacuuming it up later.

At around 10:30 a.m., Yena made her rounds through the office. She stopped by everyone’s desk, offering unsolicited advice and handing out snacks like a chaotic fairy godmother.

“Eunji, you’re overthinking that layout. Trust your instincts!”

“Sungho, great job on the client emails, but maybe use fewer emojis next time. We’re professionals, remember?”

When she reached your desk, she leaned over your shoulder and whispered, “Still fighting the Excel file?”

“Yes, and it’s winning,” you replied without looking up.

“Want me to call IT?” she offered.

“I am IT,” you said flatly, earning a laugh from her.

“Well, when you’re done, come see me. We need to prep for the Kim & Lee client pitch. You love PowerPoint, right?”

You groaned. “You’re evil.”

“Evil? No, no. I’m effective,” she said with a wink before disappearing into the break room.

When lunchtime rolled around at 12:00 pm, the office buzz quieted as everyone scattered to their usual spots. Some gathered in groups to eat at their desks, while others slipped out for fresh air or made a beeline to the cafeteria. You decided to head to the break room to escape the endless spreadsheets and give your eyes a break from the glaring screen.

As you stepped inside, the smell of warm food hit you immediately—ramyeon, fried rice, someone’s dubious reheated fish—and in the middle of it all sat Yena, perched on the counter with her legs swinging, humming a tune to herself.

“Ah, my loyal team member!” she greeted dramatically, raising her half-eaten kimbap like royalty. “Come to dine with your favorite supervisor?”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you made your way to the fridge to grab your lunchbox. “Favorite by default, considering you’re the only supervisor I report to.”

She grinned. “Still counts.”

You settled at the table, peeling back the lid of your leftovers: some rice, grilled chicken, and steamed veggies. Simple, nothing like the variety of colorful side dishes Yena always seemed to have. As if on cue, she hopped off the counter and slid into the seat across from you, pushing her kimbap container into the middle of the table.

“Want some? I made it myself.”

You eyed the kimbap warily. “What’s in it?”

“Rice, seaweed, veggies, and unconditional love,” she said with a wink, holding out a piece with her chopsticks.

You raised an eyebrow. “Unconditional love, huh? Sounds suspicious coming from you. sunbae.”

She gasped dramatically. “Wow! Can’t a supervisor just share her lunch without being accused of foul play?”

“Not when that supervisor once put chili powder in my tteokbokki.”

“That was one time!” she protested, pouting.

“And what about the fake soy sauce prank? Or the time you switched the sugar with salt?”

Yena bit her lip, clearly trying not to laugh at the memories. “Okay, fine, maybe I have a history, but I swear this kimbap is safe. Scout’s honour!”

You stared at her for a moment, debating whether you should trust her. Finally, you gave in, cautiously taking a piece from the container. It looked normal enough. Taking a slow bite, you braced yourself for some hidden twist—but to your surprise, it tasted great.

“See? I told you it’s good!” Yena said triumphantly, clapping her hands together. “I’m not just a prankster. I can cook well.”

You shook your head, chewing thoughtfully. “Fine, I’ll admit it. This is actually... really good.”

Her face lit up like you’d just handed her a trophy. “Knew it! Now I feel validated as both your supervisor and a good home cook.”

“Don’t push it,” you warned, but there was no bite to your tone.

The two of you ate in relative peace for a few minutes, the easy banter filling the room. Yena kept sneaking pieces of your chicken when she thought you weren’t looking, and you retaliated by stealing some of her kimbap. It was a rare moment where she wasn’t causing chaos, and you found yourself genuinely enjoying her company.

But, of course, this was Yena. The peace was never meant to last.

“So, about that trust thing,” she started, her voice taking on an innocent lilt that immediately put you on high alert.

“What about it?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

“Well…” She reached into her bag and pulled out a small plastic spider, dangling it in front of your face with a mischievous grin. “You’re not scared of these, are you?”

Your glare could have cut through steel. “Sunbae, I swear—”

Before you could finish, she tossed the spider onto your rice. You jolted back, startled, only to realize it wasn’t moving. Fake. Of course, it was fake.

“Relax!” she said between bouts of laughter, clutching her stomach. “Your face—oh my gosh, I wish I’d recorded it!”

You picked up the spider and tossed it back at her. “You’re unbelievable. Can’t even make it through lunch without pulling something, can you?”

She dodged it with ease, still giggling. “What can I say? It’s my love language.”

“Your love language is being too nice,” you sarcastically muttered, shaking your head.

Yena just winked, stealing another piece of chicken from your plate. “You’re lucky you have me to keep things fun.”

The office was quiet as the clock ticked closer to quitting time. Most of your co-workers had already packed up for the day, leaving you and a few others burning the proverbial midnight oil. Your focus was on the final edits for the Kim & Lee proposal, your fingers flying across the keyboard as you updated figures, corrected typos, and double-checked client specifications.

The spreadsheet in front of you was practically your baby at this point—a meticulously crafted, formula-heavy masterpiece. Losing it would be catastrophic.

As you clicked to save your progress, the screen suddenly froze. Your cursor vanished, replaced by a spinning wheel of doom. Then, without warning, the screen went blue.

You blinked, momentarily stunned.

The iconic blue screen carved deep into your tired mind; the haunting words lingered:

“CRITICAL SYSTEM ERROR. ALL FILES DELETED.”

Your heart stopped.

“No, no, no, no!” you muttered, panic bubbling to the surface. You frantically clicked the keyboard, your mouse, anything to undo the apparent catastrophe. Nothing worked. The message continued to flash, taunting you:

“ALL FILES DELETED. SYSTEM FAILURE IMMINENT.”

Your pulse was racing. Everything—hours of work, detailed charts, carefully formatted tables—gone in an instant. You’d have to start over, and with the deadline looming, that wasn’t just inconvenient; it was impossible.

“Why now? Why me?!” you groaned, your voice echoing in the empty office. Sweat prickled the back of your neck as you opened Task Manager, desperately trying to shut down whatever program had caused this.

That’s when you heard it—a barely stifled giggle.

Slowly, you turned your head, eyes narrowing.

“Yena-sunbae” you said, your voice low and dangerous.

Behind you, Yena stood just outside your cubicle, clutching her phone and biting her lip to keep from laughing. Her shoulders shook with barely contained glee, and her face was turning red from the effort of holding it in.

“What did you do?” you demanded, your tone sharp enough to make her flinch—almost.

That was the wrong question because it sent her over the edge. She exploded into laughter, doubling over as if you’d just told the funniest joke in the world.

“Your face!” she managed to wheeze, tears forming in her eyes. “Oh my gosh, you should’ve seen your face!”

“YENA,” omitting the formality, you shouted, standing up so fast your chair rolled backward.

“It’s—it’s just a screensaver!” she choked out between fits of laughter, holding up her hands in surrender. “Relax! Your files are fine. Everything’s fine! I saved it already!”

You froze, your panic slowly giving way to disbelief—and then anger. “A screensaver? You nearly gave me a heart attack for a screensaver?”

She nodded, wiping her eyes. “I couldn’t resist! You’ve been on edge all day, and you were so focused—it was too perfect!”

You stared at her, torn between throttling her and collapsing into a puddle of relief. “Yena, I swear, if you ever—”

“I’ll never do it again, promise,” she interrupted, holding up three fingers in a Scout’s honour gesture. Then she ruined it by snorting with laughter. “Okay, maybe not never, but not anytime soon.”

Your glare could’ve melted steel. “You’re lucky I didn’t actually lose anything, or I’d be writing the longest HR report of my life right now.”

“Aw, come on, don’t be mad!” she said, stepping closer and placing her hands on your shoulders. “It was funny, admit it.”

“No, it wasn’t,” you grumbled, sitting back down and trying to calm your frazzled nerves.

“You’ll laugh about it later,” she said confidently. Then, after a beat, she added, “...Maybe.”

You huffed but couldn’t stay mad at her for long. This was Yena, after all. Chaos was her default setting, and you knew what you were signing up for when you started working under her.

“Alright,” you sighed. “But you owe me dinner. And drinks. Good drinks. None of that cheap stuff.”

“Deal!” she chirped, already bouncing on her heels. “Let’s go! My treat. No pranks this time, I promise.”

She linked her arm with yours, dragging you toward the elevator. Despite yourself, a small smile crept onto your face.

With Yena, your life might’ve been unpredictable, messy, and occasionally terrifying—but at least it was never boring.

Even though you wanted to quit halfway through because of her antics.

#kpop #izone fluff #izone #izone x reader #izone yena #choi yena #jigumi #yena izone #yena #yena fluff #x reader #joyuriz

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nikist-4-n · 3 months ago

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GUYS IM BLACK, ITS DIFFERENT

PIC : MY HANDS

So I see Saraah spreading misinfo about me saying slurs. Let me explain

It all started when Saraah said " guys can I say a slur" and riri said go ahead it's a safe space ( something along those lines which is wild ) ask @wonysmiu @cwrcent @n-americano and she said the r slur below :

And I called her out and asked her if she can say it ( she NEVER specified she's autistic ) and I got no reply. Then after we complained we called riri and Saraah out on being insensitive and riri says that she didn't know and English is not her first language ( guys it's not mine too , and it's not a lot of us, I speak lingala I'm Congolese I moved to South Africa that's why I speak English) and we all told her she can at least educate herself before allowing ppl to say a slur ( and even if she didn't know why did she allow Saraah to say it cuz Saraah never said she was autistic then ) so she made a scene and left and said I was being mean even tho everyone jumped her but I'm always the bad guy now

Then stella tells me that Saraah is active on dc and I tell her to tell Saraah to read the gc cuz I didn't have discord by then. ( Saraah said her insta doesn't give notifs so she apologized ) Then we asked her why she said it she says she's autistic and she said she reclaimed the word ( I don't think it works like that ) and we went on discussing it like civil ppl and I say I don't think it works like that cuz the r word is usually frowned upon to say and is not common eg. I can say nigga ( I'm saying for educational purposes) cuz it's a slang word for black ppl now and she said that I reclaimed the word but I told her I can't do that cuz ppl before me alr reclaimed it so now it's a slang word which means I can't reclaim nigga ( based on what I understand)

And also I told her that when u want to say a slur u can say u have to mention u CAN say it not ask for permission cuz then that sounds like ur just saying slurs for fun. And MIND U, we talked about it nicely ( @cwrcent @swhore were there ) and now she dragged it to Tumblr

And did y'all forget she called @lil-liaa the word ( once again they deleted the convo )and y'all dragged me and COMPLETELY ignored it 💀, Lia I suggest u talk it out with her cuz that was actually an attack against you instead of blocking me and others when we weren't on ur side

This is my hand I didn't wanna do this but I AM BLACK if I literally mentioned this when I said the n word if u scroll to @nikist-2-n first post you'll see I said it I can literally show y'all a vid of me

@lvioung @obdosant @tzulipss @j-eongs @yeritos @florescita @fairytopea @purinkiss @hourlyhoon @aeraras @rkivefr @daddldee @p-oisn @kissunoo @swhore @bloomqi @kiyeuo @chaeryeos @y-vna @yonkiibums @hcvenue @bitchey @babyvoxgirlie @miuji @i-kyujin @aestradairio @awwriri @atsubie @y-urios @aestradairio @aesverse @sghooneyy @y-unrei @wonysmiu @cwrcent @cherubita @florieta @cereskies @blue-tiny @redvelvut

And @n-americano wth is this ? U didn't even know she could say the slur so I'm really disappointed and y'all ( u and @awwriri ) her up even tho she called Lia an r word that's why I was also upset

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twiishaa · 6 months ago

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yuji x reader ; wc 1.21k warnings okay so the random lines in italics are your thoughts okay ... characters are VERY ooc i fear i just wanted to write something like cute n cafe ... my terrible writing makes a comeback ヽ(o＾▽＾o)ノ

it was within the final hours of you shift, and as closing time was in sight the café was getting increasingly empty; the work rush was over and the sun had just begun to set. you took the free time to wipe down the tables and just as you got back to your counter you heard the bell ring. a group of teenagers walked through the door, obviously enticed by the scent coming from outside.

oh, the one with pink hair’s pretty cute… you thought to yourself.

they were all joking between themselves, quickly filling up the silence in the café with their silly jokes. there were three of them— a girl, with a light brown bob and what you thought had to be the classiest tote bag you'd seen, and two guys: one tall, with black, spiky hair and a face that lacked emotion of any sort, and the one you spotted before, slightly shorter than the dark-haired, with a muted pink shade of hair. he was the one talking the most- and the loudest- between the three of them, while the girl was answering him and the other one just adding a few sentences here and there. you put your customer service smile on and welcomed them in.

“what can I get you guys?” you asked them while getting the tablet ready to process their orders.

the girl subtly nudged the pink haired boy and whispered something which caused him to blush and nudge her back, but harder. she giggled at his response.

oh, he’s cute…

“uh, could we get a flat white, a…” the girl started. she looked at the sonic the hedgehog-haired guy behind her.

“an iced americano, please,” he said. dang. he speaks. the girl looked at the pink haired one now, signalling him to order.

“and ill have uhhh…” he looked at the menu above your head, when you noticed he had the prettiest chestnut brown eyes you’d seen, and a matching scar, or something, underneath each of them. you were scared that you'd stared at his eyes too long, so you looked away. you could stare at them forever, you thought.

“a chai latte please!” the other two looked at him with faces of confusion and utter disgust.

“itadori when have you ever liked chai lattes…” the girl sighed.

“I’ve always gotten them! you guys just never go with me; I end up going with panda and todo…” the pink haired one said, in a somewhat whiny tone.

cute.

your nails made a satisfying noise as you finished entering their order onto the system. “right!" you said, looking up.

"would you like anything else with that?”

the pink one looked at the other two, then at the display of baked goods. he looked for a while. “a coffee cake please!”

after they finished ordering, the three of them sat down in the seats right at the counter, as there wasn’t anyone else. while preparing their drinks, you learnt that the girl, the dark-haired one and the cute one were called nobara, megumi and yuji, respectively. they went to some high school called ‘jujutsu high’; safe to say you’d never heard of it before, which explained why you hadn’t seen them around either. you joined in some of their conversations and banter as the aroma of fresh coffee started to drift throughout the air in the small café, bringing the cosy feel you loved so much.

yuji scooted closer to you as you passed the three their drinks from across the counter. he was just about to start talking when a new song started playing, which caught his attention.

“oh, I love this song! do you choose the music in here?” he started tapping his finger to the beat of the song quietly.

you laughed quietly in response. “well yeah. I have a playlist that I just put on shuffle during my shift. I love this artist’s songs, i think most of them are in this playlist...”

his statement caused the two of you to begin a conversation about music, and as it slowly morphed into favourite movies and media in general, you began to realise that the two of you had really similar tastes. it felt like something clicked between the two of you, there was something different about his cheerful smile, you could feel it. every time yuji laughed at one of your jokes, you felt something flutter in your chest and your cheeks heat up a little. you didn’t believe in love at first sight before, but now…

for yuji, it was safe to say he was internally panicking. ever since nobara nudged him at the beginning and whispered an “ooh they’re cute, they’re so your type!” into his ear, it was all he could think about. he hoped you couldn’t see his face turn a deeper shade of red every time you smiled. trying to focus on his drink instead of looking like a weirdo by staring holes into your back every time you turned around, he stared at the cream and the sprinkle of masala atop his chai latte.

in the seats next to yuji, nobara said softly, as to not interrupt your conversation, to megumi: “I told you they were itadori’s type. I can tell these kinds of things,” megumi nodded, and took a sip out of his drink.

soon, the sky became dark, and the café had been open for way longer than it should’ve. looking at the time, yuji exclaimed something about being late, thanked you for your time, and the three of them left after paying, which was another episode in itself. staring longingly out the window into the now black night sky, you mentally reprimanded yourself for not asking for yuji's number or something. he was so sweet, and you felt a ‘connection’ with him, as cliché as it sounded… maybe someone else will pop up soon in your life, or something. you sighed; it was a busy day, and the fatigue from rush hour was getting to you now. it was lucky that you had cleaned up earlier while serving those three, as you didn’t have the energy to now. yawning, you picked up your bag and locked the building, the chill of the night air hitting you suddenly as you stepped outside. while walking back to your apartment, you absentmindedly read through the receipt from yuji and the others. as you reached the bottom of the receipt, you noticed something in pen ink written at the bottom. huh… one of them must’ve added something.

I wonder what it says?

there was a number– and a small note, which read:

‘text me when you get the chance! or don’t… haha

ur super cute btw (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)

-yuji ☆’

oh my gosh!

squealing, you made a mental note to text him once you got back and jumped a little out of excitement, earning you some looks from the few people on the street.

oh my god. he is so cute.

note guys ... what if i said i haven't finished shibuya arc yet... im too scared AAAAAA but yuji is my pookie and i think i did him very badly here and it's very ooc i know but dont tell me okay („• ᴗ •„) feel free to send in recs or something idk bye love you

#jjk x reader #twisha's an author !#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #yuji imagine #yuji itadori #yuji x reader #yuji x you #itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader #jjk yuji #jujutsu yuji

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