Series summary: Three months. One dream dog-sitting job. One dog that wants nothing to do with him. And, to make matters worse, the only person the dog trusts is someone Soobin canāt stand.
Pairing: Non-Idol!Soobin x reader
Chapter Summary: just take a deep breath and prepare yourselves
a/n: Sorry for the one day delay on this chapter. It took me quite some time to get right and when I finally was in the zone, my dog (irl Hazel lol) got bit by a stray dog and then we got into a mild car accident on the way to the vet. Everyone is safe, the car is a lil hurt but that is much better than any of us being so, so I'll take it.
ANYWAY, it is almost 4am rn as hit post and go to bed (@filmsforgyu idk what to tell you). I would deeply appreciate if you share your thoughts in the replies, hehe <3
Alright then,,, here's the longest update till date. Take a seat, grab a drink, dive in ~
Where Taehyun and you are the managers of the two hottest celebrities and so, busy as hell with no time to breathe, let alone date. But one thing about Kang Taehyun is that the devil might work hard, he works harder.
Pairing: Taehyun x Reader
Genre: crack, fluff
AU: artist manager au, non-idol
a/n: Here's a silly goofy nugget that I cooked up after yapping with @soobinsoudesu because every other conversation of ours is a new idea and also her being concerned for my sleep
I hope you enjoy! Happy reading <3
Masterlist
Permanent taglist: @soobinsoudesu , @nanilis , @csbenthusiast , @filmsforgyu
Comment or send an ask to be added to the taglist<3
I do. Not miss being a student. I already graduated but I want to get into a public university this time so I am taking some preparative classes. I donāt know why I am putting myself through this and I hate every single moment and I canāt fucking cancel because Iād have to pay extra taxes for cancelling on the school.
ANYWAYS HOW ARE YOU ZO
donāt put tumblr away I will miss you:(
Itās so hard for me to make friends even online so you liking my stuff makes me really happy ā¹ļø thatās how I became friends with pita I love her so I hope we can be friends too (is this silly idk)
And I will have a free weekend this week so I plan on reading dog thief (and idk man I saw something on mu dash about you making Soobinās ex come back and I have no idea what youāre talking about but I engrave it here: I will punch her)
AND UMMMMM I AM SUPER HAPPY????? I started that series because of a silly TikTok I saw and I never thought people would read it :( it means so much to me (even if the last chapter was more of a filler shhhhhh). Oui oui croissant is so stupid LMAO I have a French friend and thatās why I put it like that
AND I WILL MOST DEFINITELY COME TO YOU, and you can come to me too :)))))
ella you have permanently unlocked the beast that yapper zo is oop-
:/// oooh that is a sticky situation you're in. I hope it sucks less gradually or that you just get through it as smoothly as you can. i know it feels shitty but i like to believe (basically gaslight myself to remain sane) that everything we learn does come in handy one way or another. i hope. else i want to burn a lot of things ngl
I'm also preparing for uni like you! i will hopefully be getting an MBA (r i p me) so I need to #prepare for the massive pain that the entrance exam is. im a proper humanities kid so this shit is insane because what do you mean i have to interpret data and do maths??? PLEASE SAVE ME
Also, what did you study in uni previously? and what will you be studying now?
I have a bachelors in strategic communication and journalism (majored in journalism) but then i worked as a content writer for about two years in a marketing agency. i would love to be a journalist but the situation in my country and also the pay just make it hard to persue it :/ i also do enjoy marketing so it is nice, i do like it. anyway, as of now, im unemployed and unenrolled in any instituition- im just at home with my parents and dog, chilling and stressing simultaneously :)))
Also, you're doing so good at making friends!!! i used to see you and pita talk on my dash all the time last year (from my other account) and almost yearn for something like that AND NOW I HAVE IT!! ALL THANKS TO YOU coming into my inbox <3
as you can probably tell by now, i am very much a yapper but i also get shy at first especially when it is someone i have seen before and adored from a distance (like you hehe) so i get unsure of how to just slide in one fine day and be like HI I LIKE YOU CAN WE BE FRIENDS PLEASE?
im glad that we are that now!!! i love seeing you around hehe <333 and we are already friends girl if i was in brazil i would be showing up at your door to grab a sweet treat together (do you like sweet stuff more or savoury btw?)
and omg dog thief!! heheh I AM SOOOO EXCITED FOR YOU TO READ IT OMG YOU HAVE NO IDEA!!! spam me i will be waiting heheh. and lmao youre so funny, i will not comment on the ex thing because no spoilers here but hehehehehe i love the energy. cant wait to yap about it with you hehehehhe.
also do trust me when i say i am the no1 fan of your series. i ADORE IT and i loved the chapter, it didnt feel like too much of a filler tbh because we got beomgyu's admission to him still liking her aaaaahhhh kicking my feet hehehe plus i love filler chapters too because they are important for pacing too and just more world building and i love that because yes these are my friends and I'm nosy so let me innn I wanna see everything hehe i am just a hungry gal, keep feeding me basically, yep
and yes, let's lean on each other when we need a lil bit of help and support <333
Series summary: Three months. One dream dog-sitting job. One dog that wants nothing to do with him. And, to make matters worse, the only person the dog trusts is someone Soobin canāt stand.
Pairing: Non-Idol!Soobin x reader
Chapter Summary: The day after the party
Heads-up: This spans the whole day so do care about the timestamps. It isn't mandatory though lol.
Not the studies ššš allegedly Iāll go back to school on Monday (allegedly) so i completely get you ššššš
IM QUITE THE OPPOSITE I love rain (except hair gets all puffy and frizzy from humidity, but the same happens during summer so š¤š) but I love rain I love chilly weather and I even sit on the porch sometimes to look at the sky. Itās not summer here, itās winter (but itās super hot here in Brazil)
Iām a little tired because of work and I thought I would get all of my requests done during vacation but I didnāt :(, Iāve been using all of my free time to play sims four and sleep š¤š¤ but I plan on working on my stuff soon! Iām really excited to work on your request I love kai so much
Iāve been away from tumblr bc of work and Iām trying to catch up now with my readings (hello pita in case you see this I WILL read the mike fanfic) and I WILL read dog thief as well!!!!!!!! Just you wait
I was planning another chapter for my Beomgyu smau but everything seems weird and I donāt like it :( I miss Beomgyu maybe I should do a filler chapter
ALL THE BEST WITH SCHOOL!!! I will be rooting for you!
Lowkey missing being a student damn
And oooh I get what youre saying about the rain, and same, i like to see it too, even get wet in it sometimes but also it makes me soooo lazy (i am just a lazy gal anyway). But sitting on the porch to look up at the sky sounds so lovely and peaceful. I wish I could join you <3
I hope the weather cools down and you can enjoy a proper winter with the chilly weather you love soon
I am glad your vacation was spent well though, playing and sleeping sounds IDEAL, yep yep yeppp. And don't worry about tumblr stuff, it should be something fun and not a task looming over your head. So take it easy and do it when you feel like it <3
And ugh I hate how work (or studying) comes in between enjoying the fun parts of life like tumblr and sleep and dilly dallying. LET ME ENJOY MY LIFE ! why must I lock in like that noooooo </3
(I will have to put tumblr away november-december because of studies too and I already hate the thought of it š)
I hope you can gradually catch up on all your requests! I'm so excited to see what you cook up, I have missed your writing!!
And omg yes @soobinieswife, what Ella said and also, where have YOU been? I hope you're doing okay. Also can Clause four make a comeback please please please? (no pressure though)
I'm also super excited for you to read dog thief omg!!! I hope you have fun with it. I can't wait to hear your thoughts hehe <3
AND THANK YOU FOR REVIVING PARIS BEOMGYU I AM SO GLAD YOU WERE ABLE TO WORK SOMETHING OUT BECAUSE YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW DELIGHTED I WAS TO SEE IT BACK ON MY DASH
I loved the chapter- i love seeing men be losers and of course beomgyu is still in love with herrrr LET THE GAMES BEGINNN IM SATTTT
I'm so very fond of this series, it brought me so much joy last year when i was lowkey nOt doing well so i'm very attached to it. the "oui oui croissant" has actually become part of my usual vocabulary since the day you released that one chapter and is an automatic response whenever anything even remotely french is mentioned- irrespective of it fitting or not. I love it lol
And if you feel stuck or so with the series or anything else, feel free to just dm me if you ever need any help with brainstorming or beta reading or just anything. I would be there as soon as i can be! Yaps are always welcome too hehe.
You have a strange habitāyou only put two and a half sugar cubes in your coffee, and you have to break the other half yourself. Until one morning, a perfectly brewed cup of coffee appeared in the break room, with the sweetness of two and a half sugar cubes.
,,all warm and fuzzy, fluff, short, office, anonymous notes, mutual pinning, sticky notes, acts of service
cube I
It wasn't until your third week on the job that you discovered that cup of coffee in the breakroom.
Mornings at the advertising agency were always chaotic. Youād rush into the office at 8:10 AM, drop your bag, boot up your computer, and thenāon your way to the breakroomāmake the transition from "so sleepy I could die" to "barely functioning human being." You had a rather niche and stubborn habit: your coffee required exactly two and a half sugar cubes.
Two was the standard amount, but that extra half-cube had to be snapped off by your own hand; a whole cube made it too sweet, yet two alone left it lacking that final touch. Youād tried using sugar packets, but the texture of the granules wasn't right. You craved the specific sensation of holding a sugar cube between your fingertips, snapping it gently, and watching the crumbs fall onto the rim of the cup. You couldn't quite explain whyāit just felt like the only way to make it complete.
On the Wednesday of your third week, you walked into the breakroom, mug in hand, ready to go through your practiced routine: boil water, brew coffee, snap the sugar cube. That was when you saw it.
There, on the counter in the corner, sat a cup of coffee that had already been brewed. No steam rose from the rim, but the mug felt warm to the touch. Beside it sat a small dish of sugar cubesāthree of them, with one snapped neatly in half.
You stood there, frozen for a good three seconds.
You glanced around; the breakroom was empty. You picked up the coffee and leaned in to smell itādark roast beans, exactly the same kind you drank every morning. After a moment of hesitation, you took a sip.
Not scalding. Just warm. Perfect for drinking. And the sweetness level wasā¦ two and a half cubes.
Holding the mug, you stood in the breakroom and found yourself smiling, for reasons you couldn't quite name.
The next day, you arrived ten minutes earlier than usual. At eight o'clock sharp, the lights in the pantry were on, and that cup of coffee was already sitting on the counter. You reached out and touched the side of the cupāit was warm. Whoever had left it there had just departed.
You decided not to make a fuss. You picked up the cup and returned to your desk, acting as if nothing had happened.
On the third day, you arrived early, at 7:50. The coffee was already there.
On the fourth day, you arrived at 7:30. The coffee was still there.
On the fifth day, you snapped. You arrived at the office at seven o'clock sharp; the only other people on the floor were the security guard and the cleaning lady. You walked into the pantry, but the counter was completely bareāno coffee. Standing there, you felt a sudden sense of letdown. You boiled some water, made yourself a cup of coffee, broke off half a sugar cube, and went back to your desk. At 8:10, under the pretext of refilling your water, you passed by the pantry againāand there sat the coffee, quiet and still, wisps of steam rising from the cup as if it had never been missing at all.
You stared at the coffee for a long time. Then, you pulled a sticky note from your desk and, in your finest handwriting, wrote three words:
"Who are you?"
You stuck it onto the cup. The next morning, you found a new sticky note on the counter next to your coffee. You picked it up; it bore just a single line of text, written in a clean, crisp hand:
"It doesn't matter. Drink your coffee."
You stared at the words, your heart skipping a beat.
cube Il
You didn't stop. You began writing a sentence on a sticky note every day and attaching it to the cup. He replied every timeābriefly, with restraintāyet his words always made you read them twice.
You wrote: "Proposal presentation today. I'm so nervous."
He replied: "I heard your last presentation. You did a great job."
You stood there, stunned, holding the note. Your last presentation had been two weeks ago; youād stood before the projector in the conference room for twenty minutes, making it to the fifteenth slide. You had stumbled twice along the way, and your palms were slick with sweat when you stepped down. You remembered clearly that a dozen people had been in the room; you had kept your head down the entire time, never once looking to see who was actually listening.
You wrote: "How did you know?"
He replied: "I was sitting in the third row, by the window."
Third row, by the window. You ran it through your mindāthat was the Design Department's area. You didn't know the people in Design very well; they always sat quietly in the corner, dragging things around on their screens. You remembered one of themā¦ You tried hard to recall: a very tall guy, thin, a man of few words, always wearing thin-framed glasses, sitting in that third-row window seat, with a desk so tidy it hardly looked like a living person's workspace.
You didn't even know his name.
You write: "Third row, by the windowā¦ are you from the design department?"
He replies: "Yes."
You write: "And what's your name?"
When the sticky note is returned, it only has one word on it:
"Guess."
You laugh in exasperation.
You started paying attention to the seat in the third row by the window.
There really was a guy thereātall, thin, wearing thin-framed glasses and often dressed in dark colors. You had never really looked at him beforeānot because he was inconspicuous, but because you were too busy; too busy to even remember the names of people in the team next to yours. But now, you start "accidentally" walking past the design department's workstations, "accidentally" getting water near him, and "accidentally" queuing up behind him in the cafeteria.
You notice things you had completely overlooked before.
He arrives very early every day. By the time you get in at eight, he is already at his desk with design software open on his screen and a cup of black coffee beside himāno sugar, no milk; it looks so bitter that just gazing at it makes you frown. He wears clear, thin-framed glasses; occasionally, he takes them off to rub his eyes, then puts them back on and turns his attention back to the screen. His desk holds nothing but a computer, a water cup, and a scraggly, crooked pothos plantāabsolutely nothing else.
You notice he eats incredibly fast. While others in the cafeteria are still queuing for soup, he is already standing up with an empty tray, ready to leave. You notice that at three in the afternoon, he stands up right on schedule to get water from the pantry, walks over to the window to stand for two minutes, and then returns to his desk. You notice he walks softly, making almost no soundālike a cat trying to go unnoticed.
You notice that he never once looks at you of his own accord.
Every time you "walk past," his head is down, eyes fixed on the screen. When you queue behind him for food, he never turns around. When you are getting water in the pantry and he walks in, he simply stands quietly behind you and waits; he only fills his cup after you have left. At times, the physical distance between you is barely thirty centimeters, yet he doesn't spare you even a single extra glance.
You begin to wonderācould you have made a mistake? Maybe that person isn't him after all. Maybe someone else sits by the window in the third row? Maybe that sticky note was just someone's prank?
Yet, that cup of coffee appears right on schedule every morning.
You decide to change tactics.
You no longer write those questions like "Who are you?" or "What is your name?" You start writing other things instead. You write: "So tired today."
The next day, a line appears below the sticky note: "It's Friday. Hang in there."
You write: "Forgot to eat breakfast this morning."
The next day, a bag of soda crackers appears next to your coffee, a brand you've never seen before, but with a savory flavor that you like.
You write: "I have a proposal presentation next week; I'm so nervous."
The next day, the reply on the sticky note read: "I heard your last presentationāyou unconsciously twirl your pen when you're nervous. Don't do that; just stop and take three deep breaths."
Looking at that sticky note, you suddenly felt like crying.
This person had noticed even thatāthe way you twirled your pen when nervous. And yet, you didn't even know his name. You thought back to your presentations; it was trueāyou would unconsciously twirl your pen, flipping it between your fingers until the cap flew off, forcing you to scramble and bend down to retrieve it. You had always assumed no one noticed. It turned out someone had.
You wrote: "You observe things so closelyādo you like me?"
You deliberately used a half-joking tone, though your hand trembled as you stuck the note in place. The next morning, you flipped open the sticky note, and there it was, his neat handwriting:
"You found out?"
Three words. One question mark. Standing in the breakroom holding your coffee, your face felt hot enough to fry an egg.
You didn't press the issue further. But you started making a more deliberate effort to "pass by" the window seat in the third row.
You memorized how often he drank water; the sliver of skin visible at the back of his neck when he bowed his head; the way heād furrow his brows slightly when taking off his glasses to rub his eyes; and how, when growing impatient with edits on a design, he would tap his pen cap lightly against the deskāthree taps, then a pause, a deep breath, and back to work.
You started paying attention to what you wore. You used to just throw on a random hoodie and head out; now, youād stand in front of the mirror, spending an extra thirty seconds deciding on your outfit. You began plotting routes through the office to engineer "chance encounters"āshifting your water-refill break from 10:00 a.m. to 3:00 p.m., because that was the time he would stand by the window for a couple of minutes. You changed the time you went to the cafeteria from 12:00 to 12:10āthe exact moment he would have finished eating and was getting ready to leave.
You pretended these encounters were merely coincidences. But you knew better.
There was a company dinner once at a hotpot restaurant, gathered around a large, steaming round table. You were seated quite far from him, yet he happened to be positioned diagonally across from you. While everyone else chatted, drank, and helped themselves to food, he sat quietly in the corner, peeling shrimp. You hadn't paid much attention at first, until you noticed him neatly arranging the peeled shrimp on a small plateāone, two, threeā¦ He peeled an entire platter, leaving a plate filled with pristine, shell-free shrimp meat.
Then, he stood up, carried the plate halfway around the table, and set it down in front of you. He didn't say a word before sitting back down.
The whole table fell silent for a second. Then, someone teased, "Ooh, Kang Taehyun, playing favorites, are we?"
He kept his head down, his voice flat and matter-of-fact, as if stating something entirely unremarkable:
"ln has a cut on their hand."
You looked down at your hands. There was indeed a tiny scratch on your right index fingerāa nick from a cardboard box edge while opening a package a couple of days prior. It was as fine as a strand of hair; no one would have noticed it unless you pointed it out. You looked down at the plate of shrimp; every single one was perfectly peeled, without a trace of shell left behind.
You whispered a quiet "thank you." He nodded, picked up his glass of water for a sip, and didn't look at you once.
But you saw it. The knuckles of the fingers gripping his glass had turned white.
half-a-cube
You decided to stop hiding.
That night, back home, you sat on your bed and read the words "You found out?" on that sticky note over and over againāprobably eight hundred times. You decided to go straight to the breakroom the next day and wait for him. No more passing messages via sticky notes, no more pretending to run into him by chance. You were going to stand right in front of him, look him in the eye, and say a proper "Good morning."
You woke up at 6:30 the next morning. After washing your face, you stood in front of the mirror for ten minutesāwondering what to wear. Dark colors? Light colors? Trying too hard isn't good, but being too casual won't do either. In the end, you chose a clean white shirt, tidied your hair, and headed out.
You arrived at the office at seven sharp. The entire floor was quiet; only the light in the security booth was on. You walked into the pantry, but the counter was bareāyou were too early; even that cup of coffee hadn't appeared yet. You stood there, your heart pounding wildly. Then, you heard footsteps coming from the end of the hallway. Light. Steady. Step by step, moving toward the pantry.
You took a deep breath.
The moment he walked in, you were facing the counter, pretending to look at the coffee machine. He paused as he pushed the door openāclearly not expecting anyone to be in the pantry at that hour. You turned around. He was standing in the doorway, wearing thin-framed glasses and a dark coat, holding a box of sugar cubes. He froze when he saw you, then tilted his head slightly, as if trying to confirm something.
You spoke up: "Morning."
He was silent for two seconds. Then he said, "ā¦Morning."
He walked in, and you stepped aside to make room. He walked to the front of the table, opened the box of sugar cubes, and began to repeat the same routine he did countless times every morningātaking out three cubes, breaking one in half, and putting it into a cup. You stood nearby, watching him. His fingers were long, and his movements as he snapped the sugar cube were gentleāas if he were afraid of breaking something precious.
You couldn't help but ask, "You realized it was me?"
He stopped and turned his head to look at you. Through the thin lenses of his glasses, his eyes were dark and calm. He didn't answer your question. Instead, he said, "You lookā¦ really good today."
You were taken aback for a moment. Then you laughedāan unstoppable laugh. You leaned against the pantry counter, your shoulders shaking with mirth. He stood beside you, still holding half a sugar cube, while his ears slowly, gradually turned bright red.
You wiped your eyes and said, "You come so early every day just to make me a cup of coffee?"
He was silent for three seconds. Then he said, "Iāve noticed you leaving so late every day. The light at your desk is often the last one to go out on the whole floor. I thoughtā¦ if I could get you a cup of coffee made just right in the morningā¦ maybe your day would be a little easier."
You looked at him; the light from the breakroom cast a faint, warm glow across his glasses.
You said, "You even know what time I leave?"
He replied, "Yeah. I leave even later than you do."
You held each other's gaze for a long moment. The air was filled with the aroma of coffee and something elseāsomething nameless, something very, very light.
Finally, you reached out, took the half-cube of sugar from his hand, and dropped it into your cup. The cube hit the surface of the coffee, sending out a small ripple.
You said, "Two and a half cubes. Just the sweetness you broke off."
He lowered his head, the corners of his mouth curving upward.
You asked, not because you didn't know but because you wanted to hear it from him, "So, can you tell me your name now?"
He raised his eyes to look at you, his voice soft:
"Kang Taehyun."
You picked up the coffee and took a sip. Two and a half cubes. Not too sweet, not cloyingājust right. You looked at him and said, "I'mā¦"
He said, "I know. It's on your ID badge. I saw it on the first day."
You glanced down at your badgeāsure enough, it was hanging right there on your chest, the lettering large enough that it would be hard to miss.
You smiled.
"So, do you know I get to the office at 8:10 every morning?"
He said, "I do."
"And do you know I spin my pen when I'm presenting proposals?"
"I do."
"Thenā¦" You looked into his eyes and spoke slowly. "Do you know that I want to ask you out to a movie this weekend?"
He was taken aback for a moment. Then he lowered his head and put the remaining half of the sugar cube into his black coffeeāwhich he usually doesn't add sugar to. He picked it up, took a sip, and frowned, clearly not used to the sweetness.
He looked at you and said, "I know now."
You smiled again. You were fifteen minutes late that morning because you were in the break room with Kang Taehyun, finishing off that two-and-a-half-dollar coffee.
Later, you asked him why he broke a sugar cube in halfāhe could have just put in two whole ones.
He thought for a long time before saying, "Because I wanted you to realize that someone had broken a sugar cube just for you."
You fell silent for a moment. Then you said, "Next time you break one, you can make the piece a bit bigger."
He glanced at you. "Why?"
You smiled and said, "Because I want to taste a little more of it."
He lowered his head, his ears turning red again. He slid the box of sugar cubes toward you. You asked, "What are you doing?"
He said, "You break it. However big you break it, thatās how sweet Iāll drink it."
You took the box, picked out a cube, snapped off half, and dropped it into his black coffee. He picked it up, took a sip, frowned, and said, "Too sweet."
You leaned over and took a sip from his hand as well.
You winced, "Too bitter." Perhaps, your tastes still had great differences.
He didn't say anything. But out of the corner of your eye, you saw him smile again.
in which you and beomgyu go on a small vacation together. the problem? you two broke up before your 2-year anniversary. but it's okay, you two are just friends again, right?
pairing: beomgyu x fem!reader
genre: fluff, humor and an attempt at being angsty; only one bed trope; smau series
cw: guys honestly i don't even know anymore pls bare with me ok; swearing? Not much, I just wanted to write again.
an: It's been a while with this one. I don't know where I'm going with this but like........yngyu needed a comeback don't you think? I'm still thinking if I'll make a written chapter
series masterlist
regular masterlist
6- Just beg and hope for the best
tag list (send me an ask if you want to be added!): @soobinieswife @yaintpaint @thearchersupremacy @woncheecks @bamgeutori @qfeet @stwq2349 @buttersoob @yjnwonstars @oceanofloor (I thinkI forgot someone, so if tou asked me to be in the tag list and your name isn't here, please send me an ask!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
