#kaces corner

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: In the bustling streets of Hollywood, The Daily Grind café offers solace to those seeking peace—famous or not. Y/N, co-owner of the cozy shop, wasn't expecting a masked Jenna Ortega, a regular, hiding in plain sight. Is it just you, or did the spilled sugar not turn out to be the only thing that sweetened your day?

Word Count: 1.1k

The smell of espresso hit me like a warm hug the second I opened the door to The Daily Grind. We'd only been open for three weeks, but the place already felt like my second home. Wilma, my best friend and now business partner, had really nailed it with the cozy vibe— mix of warm lighting and cushy chairs that practically begged you to sit down and spill your deepest secrets into a cup of coffee. We were doing pretty well for ourselves. A lot of it had to do with how we ran things. We prided ourselves on being a low-key spot where even the biggesr stars could come in and out without anyone batting an eye. No paparazzi, No instagram Stans, just people famous—or not trying to enjoy their coffee.

We've had a few people challenge our "No photos, videos, or interrupting other customers of any caliber." rule—a sign clearly displayed at the top of the menu and outside the café. The moment a camera was raised, we'd calmly walk over and politely ask them to leave. If that didn't work, we had a quiet agreement with the boutique's security guard next door—one glare from him, and they usually scurried off. Our café was a sanctuary, and no one would ruin that for our customers. After all, our motto was "We serve coffee, not fame. Take a sip." Today had been like any other day: customers trickling in, ordering their usual, and leaving with smiles. But something was different tonight. Maybe it was the way the door chimed a little softer than usual or the quick sound of shuffling footsteps. I didn't look up right away, as I was too busy balancing a stack of to-go cups while trying not to trip over that corner of the rug that always seemed to curl up, which, let's be honest, was my usual struggle. But I felt it—a shift in the atmosphere. Someone was trying way too hard not to be noticed. I peeked over my shoulder just in time to catch a figure in a hoodie, sunglasses, and a face mask slipping into the booth in the back corner.

I chuckled lightly, nearly knocking over the cups I had stacked. Of course, someone who tried not to stand out only made them stand out more. But hey, this was Hollywood; people like to stay incognito. I walked up beside Wilma as she finished giving a customer their order. She was also watching the spectacle; Wilma leaned in, wiping her hands on a towel. "That hoodie's been here three times this week. Any hunch who it could be?" We, of course, leave celebrities alone here, but we like to talk between ourselves to try and figure out who it is. I shake my head. "No, but they're definitely someone. No one hides like that unless they're trying not to be recognized." Wilma smirked. "Duh—You can tell by how they keep looking over their shoulder." Our eyes met, and she gave me a knowing look. Her smirk grew into a giant grin. "Your turn, mascot," she said, tossing her towel over her shoulder as she walked away. I blinked, confused. "Wait, what? What is that supposed to mean?" She stopped briefly. "Maybe you'll have better luck talking to them. After all, you are the people's favorite barista and a great icebreaker. She looks anxious, so work your little charisma magic." And with that, she disappeared into the back, leaving me staring at the mysterious figure, wondering how I'd gotten roped into this.

As I walked over, I flipped to a new page in my notepad and repeated my mantra when serving customers: Treat everyone the same, whether they're the guy from down the street or some A-lister hiding from the world. No fuss, no fanfare. I tried to stay calm not to scare them out of the café. There was no need to be weird or awkward about it I'm just going to—oh. As I slid up to the table, I managed to knock over the sugar container. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth. With a quick glance, I crouched down to pick it up, hoping I hadn't drawn attention to either of us. When I stood back up, the figure in the hoodie had their head down, but I could feel them watching me. Great, now I spooked them. "Uh, sorry about that," I chuckled nervously, brushing the sugar off my apron. "That usually only happens on Wednesdays, more than I'd like to admit." A soft giggle escaped from under the mask. Before I could attempt to piece the giggle to a voice she pulled down her mask just enough for me to see her face.

Jenna Ortega.

I blinked, not sure why my brain of all times decided to short-circuit now.

Jenna—freakin'—Ortega was sitting in my café, laughing at my stupid joke.

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Y/N's weekend spirals into something more after a simple Instagram follow sparks nonstop texting with Jenna. As a poetry night unfolds, hidden emotions and lingering looks stir beneath the surface, leaving Y/N wondering if there’s more to Jenna’s words than she realizes.

Word Count: 2.8k

I lay sprawled out on my bed, staring at the crumpled receipt with Jenna's Instagram handle scribbled at the bottom. "Jenna has neat handwriting." Mr. Noodles had busied himself with the loose string from my hoodie, batting it around like it was the most exciting thing in the world. I couldn't help but stare at the note beneath it.

"Thanks for the coffee and conversation again, Slick."

I huffed, running a hand through my hair. It was the weekend, and The Daily Grind was closed, but my mind hadn't stopped buzzing since yesterday. I wasn't sure if it was because I spent the entire night tossing and turning or if the note and handle staring back at me were messing with my head.

Mr. Noodles rolled over next to me, biting the loose string of my hoodie. I chuckled, tugging the string away only for Mr. Noodles to pounce on it again. "You're supposed to be giving me advice, Sir," I muttered to the cat.

"Should I follow her?" I muttered aloud, glancing down at Mr. Noodles as if the cat would magically start talking. Instead, he batted the string again, completely uninterested in my words. Sighing, I pulled out my phone. "Okay, maybe I'll just look at her profile... just a quick peek."

I typed in Jenna's handle, my fingers shaking just a little as her profile popped up. Her feed included behind-the-scenes shots from sets, goofy pictures with friends, and the occasional aesthetically curated post. It was everything I expected and more, yet somehow, seeing it all made Jenna feel both distant and approachable.

I glanced at the Instagram handle again, thumb hovering over the 'follow' button. My heart thumped loudly in my ears. "Do I follow her now? Is that weird?" A nervous flutter filled my chest.

I looked at Mr. Noodles, hoping for some sort of divine intervention. I sighed and turned the phone screen toward the cat, leaning in as if he might actually give me the needed advice.

"What do you think? Follow or not?" I asked, thumb still frozen in place.

Mr. Noodles tilted his head for a moment, and before I could stop him, his paw shot out, landing directly on the screen—pressing the follow button.

My eyes widened. “Oh no… no, no, no, no! Noodles! Why—" I yelped, sitting upright, heart jumping out of my chest. I stared at the phone silently as if it might explode. Great. She's going to think I'm creepy, I panicked.

Mr. Noodles showed no remorse. Unfazed by my mini-crisis, he merely stretched out his paw, pressed it on my chest, meowed, and held it there as if to say, "Chill, human, it's just Instagram."

I laughed softly, scratching behind his ears. "I guess I did ask for your advice, boss; maybe it's not the end of the world," I replied, setting the phone down and falling back onto the pillow. The nerves from before slowly faded as Mr. Noodles curled up closer, purring contentedly.

A few minutes later, a buzz from my phone broke the silence. My heart stopped for a second as I grabbed the phone. It was Jenna.

Jenna: "I see you found my Instagram, Slick."

I sat up again, staring at the screen. Slick. That nickname was going to stick, wasn't it?

My heart was still pounding. What am I supposed to say to that? I bit my lip, staring at the screen, trying to find the perfect way to respond without sounding like I was fangirling.

Y/N: "Haha, yeah, I might have had a little nudge from Mr. Noodles. He has a knack for pressing buttons."

Jenna's response came quickly.

Jenna: "I knew Mr. Noodles had good taste. Should I be worried he's the mastermind behind everything?"

I chuckled, panic subsiding. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as I thought.

Y/N: "Definitely. He's secretly running my life from behind the scenes."

Jenna: "Well, tell him he's doing a great job."

The conversation flowed easily after that. Jenna texted about how she was shopping with her mom and sister. I found myself smiling as I read Jenna's updates about their day. We talked about each other's Instagram pages, with Jenna casually mentioning how "quiet" my account was. She commented on some of them—photos of The Daily Grind, a bunch of funny pictures of Mr. Noodles, and random snapshots of L.A. life.

Jenna: "I didn't know you were into photography."

Y/N: "Just something I dabble in, nothing serious."

Jenna: "Well, you've got an eye for it."

Reading Jenna's message, I bit my tongue, stifling a snicker.

Y/N: "You've got an eye for a lot of things, don't you? Bet you could spot a diamond in the rough without even trying."

There was a moment of silence, a break in the rapid-fire messaging, and my brain immediately went into panic mode. As I reread my last message, my heart raced as I questioned every word. Was that flirting? Oh god, did it sound like I was flirting? Groaning internally, I debated whether to follow up or leave it alone, replaying the words repeatedly, hoping I hadn't crossed any lines.

Meanwhile, across town, Jenna stood in a boutique with her mom and sister, holding a pair of shoes, when her phone buzzed again. She glanced down at my message, a small, amused smile playing on her lips as she read it. Was that... flirting? she wondered, feeling a spark of something she couldn't quite place.

Aliyah, her younger sister, nudged her with a teasing grin. "You've been glued to that phone all day. What's up with that?"

Jenna shrugged, trying to play it off. "Nothing, just texting."

"Texting who?" Aliyah leaned in, trying to peek over Jenna's shoulder. "Come on, spill the tea! You haven't been this distracted since... ever."

Jenna quickly pulled her phone closer, shooting her sister a look. "It's not a big deal."

Aliyah raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Uh-huh, sure. You're not fooling me. Who is it?"

Jenna smirked and shook her head. "None of your business, Aliyah."

Aliyah laughed. "Fine, keep your secrets. But I'm watching you," she teased, throwing a playful smirk as they walked away. Jenna's thoughts lingered on my message, the teasing fading into the background as she mentally filed away the moment for later.

Panicking a little, I started typing out an explanation. "I was just saying, you know, your Instagram feed is super polished. That post you did at the premiere? It definitely looks professional. Like, you've got an eye for these things."

I hit send, biting my lip as the message went through. Crisis averted, right?

But her reply came in almost immediately: "Are you flirting with me, Slick?"

My face immediately heated up. Was I? I hadn't thought so, but now… maybe? My heart raced as I stared at the words on my screen.

Frantically, I started typing again, trying to come up with something that didn't make me sound like a complete fool. My fingers danced over the keyboard as I finally typed, "Only if it's working."

I winced immediately. Did I seriously just say that? But I didn't have time to take it back because Jenna's reply popped up almost instantly: "Maybe it is ;)"

My brain short-circuited as I reread the message, swallowing hard. I needed to keep it together.

The rest of the day flew by. We texted back and forth, sometimes in rapid bursts and other times falling into a comfortable silence. I hadn't even noticed how much time we had spent texting. After cooking, I sent Jenna a quick message.

Y/N: "About to eat. What about you?"

But before I could wait for a response, Mr. Noodles let out a long, dramatic meow, reminding me of his presence—and his empty food bowl.

"Don't worry, I didn't forget about you," I muttered, hopping up to feed him.

Y/N: "Feeding Mr. Noodles before he stages a protest."

Jenna: "A well-fed Noodles is a happy Noodles."

I laughed and grabbed the little tray, setting Noodles' plate on it. "I even got the tray this time, Noodles." Noodles never ate his meals unless they were on his special tray. The cat had his dignity, after all. I took a quick selfie with Noodles eating his food in the foreground, my hoodie-clad self sitting beside him with a content smile.

Y/N: [Pic] "Noodles approves of dinner."

Jenna: "Noodles is adorable. Oh yeah, you're there too."

Gasping playfully, I put my hand on my chest and shook my head.

After dinner, I tossed my phone on the bed and stretched. Then, I stared at my reflection in the mirror, tugging at my hoodie strings.

"We've been texting all day… like we're—" The thought was abruptly halted by a text from Jenna.

Jenna: Oh, are you going to that poetry event?"

I paused. I had almost forgotten about the poetry night, but now the idea of Jenna showing up made me excited and nervous.

Y/N: "Yeah, I'll be there, "I can't get out of work that easily, sadly."

Jenna: Lol, good, because I was thinking about stopping by.

I smiled at my phone, feeling a strange excitement bubbling inside me. I mentioned the event casually, not thinking Jenna would actually show up. But here she was, considering it.

Y/N: "Yeah, come drop by! It's going to be tons of fun."

Jenna: "Fun's one way to put it…I was thinking about reading something."

I froze. Jenna Ortega, reading poetry?

Y/N: "Wait, you're gonna read something? Now I have to see this."

Jenna: "Guess you'll have something to look forward to then."

Y/N: "I guess we’ll see then. I'm heading to bed. I'll talk to you later. Goodnight!"

Jenna: "All right, get some rest. Goodnight!"

I flopped back onto my bed, my phone still in hand. Mr. Noodles, completely unbothered, was fast asleep, the very cause of my earlier crisis now resting peacefully. I gave him a light scratch on the head. "This is going to be an interesting poetry night, buddy."

A few days later, the poetry event was in full swing at The Daily Grind. The café's warm glow set the perfect stage for the poets to approach the mic. Customers sat scattered around tables, sipping lattes and nibbling on pastries, but tonight, there was no usual chatter. The air buzzed with something more—a soft, attentive silence layered with the energy of excitement and nerves.

I stood behind the counter, half-listening to the poems as I washed some dishes. My mind kept drifting back to Jenna, who'd arrived not too long ago. She was sitting in the middle of the café now, flipping through her journal, occasionally looking up when someone delivered a line that caught her interest.

I tried to focus on the cappuccino cup I was washing, but my stomach kept twisting with this weird mix of excitement and nerves. I'd never really imagined Jenna as the poetry type, but seeing her here, confident, made the idea of her reading even more intriguing. Jenna, reading poetry. Damn.

I’d finished the last of my batch of dishes when I heard the soft creak of a chair. Glancing up, I saw Jenna standing, journal in hand, making her way toward the small stage. Her steps were steady but confident, sending my heart into overdrive.

I leaned against the counter, gripping the edge as I watched her take her place at the mic. The background hum of conversation faded to nothing, and I could feel the energy shift as Jenna tapped her journal against the mic stand.

"Hi, for those who don't know me, my name is Jenna." The crowd softly erupted into a few snaps and cheers.

"This is something I've been working on for a while," Jenna started, her voice steady but carrying this vulnerable edge. "I don't usually share my poetry, but… here goes nothing."

My breath caught in my chest. The café was silent now, except for the faint hiss of the espresso machine in the background. My attention was fixed on Jenna.

She flipped open her journal, her fingers gently brushing over the worn pages. She took a deep breath and began to read:

"There's a space between silence and sound, Where words get caught, Lingering like an echo that never fades, A warmth that lingers in the coldest moments. It’s like a whisper I can't quite grasp, But somehow, it stays with me."

Her voice was soft but sure, each word hanging in the air like it belonged there. I couldn’t take my eyes off her, feeling my chest tighten as her words seemed to reach out and pull me in. The room felt smaller, more intimate, like it was just the two of us.

"There's a light that breaks through the quiet, A glow that touches everything in its path. And when it touches me, I feel—"

She paused, glancing up from her journal, and her eyes landed on me. For a heartbeat, we locked eyes, and I swear my heart stuttered.

"I feel like I could stay in that light forever," she finished, her voice dropping into something softer, almost like it was just for me.

The room stayed quiet for a beat, the kind of quiet that follows something that just hits everyone right where it counts. Soft applause and snaps slowly filled the space, but I barely registered it. I was too busy trying to breathe, trying to shake the feeling that maybe—just maybe—that line had been meant for me.

Jenna closed her journal with a soft thud, her eyes scanning the room as she smiled nervously. I joined in the clapping, my hands slightly trembling. That line—"I could stay in that light forever." Damn, she had me more shaken than I wanted to admit.

Jenna stepped off the stage, her face still flushed as she sat at the counter where I stood. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath until I let out a shaky laugh.

"Not bad for a movie star," I managed to say, my voice betraying me.

Jenna looked up at me, a smile tugging at her lips. "You didn’t think I had it in me, huh?"

I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. "No, I just… didn’t expect it. But yeah, you really had something there."

Jenna raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by how flustered I was. "Thanks, Slick. Maybe one day I’ll share the rest with you."

My throat tightened. I shook my head, laughing nervously. "Only if you want to! No rush or pressure."

She leaned in a little, her smile still teasing. "Yeah, I don’t mind. I guess I’m full of surprises."

Before I could reply, our hands brushed as I reached for a stray napkin left by a patron. That small touch sent a spark through me, my heart racing. Jenna’s fingers lingered just a second longer than necessary before her face grew redder, and she reached into her bag, pulling out a small, leather-bound journal.

"This," Jenna said, "is what I’ve been working on."

My eyes widened. "That’s amazing. Looks like a real book already."

Jenna smiled, running her fingers over the cover. "I’ve been working on a collection of affirmations and positive vibes. Something people can read to start their day off right."

I lit up. "That’s incredible! You should write a poem about The Daily Grind. You know, as an ode to caffeine and good vibes."

Jenna froze for a second, her blush deepening. "I—um—yeah, I could do that," she stammered.

I tilted my head, a little concerned. "You all right? You don’t have to if you're not up for it. I just thought you really enjoyed the café. It always seems to relax you."

Jenna let out a nervous laugh as she fidgeted with her journal. "Just a few after-butterflies. The crowd can be overwhelming sometimes... even for a big movie star," she said, her voice quieter than usual, clearly nervous.

I smiled, trying to ease the tension. "Come on, I know just the spot where you can get some air."

I led Jenna out to the back patio, the view of the city spreading out before us. The twinkling lights of L.A. cast a soft glow over the horizon, making everything feel a little more magical. It was quieter here, away from the usual hum of the café, just the two of us. The noise of the poetry event faded, leaving behind the soft rustling of leaves in the breeze.

Jenna leaned back in her chair, staring out at the view, her journal resting on her lap. She seemed more at ease now, her earlier nervousness gone. I couldn’t help but watch her, still in awe of how someone like her could feel so grounded, sitting next to me like this.

I started humming softly, letting the cool night air relax me. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Jenna turn her head slightly, listening. Her eyes softened.

“You’ve got a beautiful voice, Y/N,” Jenna said, her voice gentle.

I glanced down at my hands, caught off guard. “Thanks. I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

“You should sing more,” Jenna added. “It suits you.”

I smiled but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, I leaned back, closing my eyes for a moment, letting the peaceful atmosphere sink in. The night wrapped around us, soft and still. The only sound was the breeze weaving through the trees, and our quiet breathing.

Eventually, Jenna broke the silence. “I used to take acting classes as a kid. I thought it was fun, but it was also a lot of work. Everyone thinks it’s all glam, but it’s really not.”

I opened my eyes and looked over at her. “Yeah? I remember wanting to be a star when I was younger. My parents got me singing lessons, but I ended up with a lazy talent agent who only got me background roles in a few plays and on the occasional TV or movie set.”

Jenna chuckled lightly, her smile a little mischievous. “Hey, that’s how it starts. You’ve got to work your way up. Hollywood isn’t like the movies—there’s no fairy tale moment where someone discovers you walking down the street.”

I laughed with her. “Guess I’ll stick to making lattes.”

Jenna grinned, her eyes sparkling in the dim light. “You’re good at that, too.”

As we continued talking, it felt like the world outside the patio didn’t exist anymore. It was just me and Jenna, the stars above us, and the quiet stillness of the night. We traded stories—nothing deep or profound, but it was effortless. Like we’d known each other longer than we actually had.

There was something calming about being with Jenna, something that made me feel like I didn’t have to rush or worry. Just being in the moment was enough.

Jenna took a deep breath, breaking the quiet. “I guess that’s what I love about acting… it lets me escape for a while, but it’s not always what people think.”

I tilted my head, listening carefully. “Yeah? What do people get wrong about it?”

She paused, her fingers tracing the edges of her journal absentmindedly. “They only see the glam, the red carpets, and the premieres. But they don’t see the long hours, the rejection, or how hard you have to work just to land a role. It can get exhausting.”

I nodded. "I feel you. Sometimes, everyone only sees the end result and forgets all the effort it took to get there."

Jenna smiled, a little softer this time. “Exactly. I think that’s why I like moments like this… when everything’s quiet, and I can just be myself. No cameras, no expectations.”

My chest tightened a little at her words. There was a vulnerability there, a side of Jenna I hadn’t seen before. I nodded, feeling the weight of the conversation settle between us. “Yeah… moments like this are pretty rare.”

She looked at me then, her eyes lingering just a little longer than usual, like she was trying to figure me out. It was quiet again, but this time, the silence felt different—deeper.

Eventually, I spoke up, trying to lighten the mood. “You know, you really should write that poem about The Daily Grind. You’ve got to immortalize this place in poetry.”

Jenna laughed, the sound soft but full of warmth. “Okay, okay, I’ll think about it.”

We both sat there for a little while longer, the city lights twinkling around us like stars had spilled onto the ground. It was one of those rare moments where everything just felt… right. I didn’t want it to end, but as the night deepened, I knew we’d have to head back soon.

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Days have passed since the run-in with Jenna's friends, and Y/N is still reeling from the unexpected "grilling." With the fall festival next weekend, there's excitement but nerves, too. Amid taco nights and family teasing, Y/N's mind keeps circling back to Jenna and where things might be headed. But just when Y/N thinks they’ve got it figured out, a simple text from Jenna hints at something more—if Y/N's ready to take the leap.

Word Count: 3.8k

The familiar chime of keys jingling in my hand as I unlocked the doors to The Daily Grind felt like the start of any other morning. Wilma and I stepped inside, the café still bathed in the soft, early morning glow. It was peaceful, calm—before the chaos of the day began.

Wilma flicked on the lights and headed straight for the kitchen. “I’ll start on the pastries. You got the coffee?”

I nodded, already moving toward the espresso machine. “On it.”

The morning routine was easy, familiar. It helped distract me from the whirlwind of thoughts that had been swirling in my head since the run-in with Emma and Melissa. I knew why they’d grilled me that day—testing my character, sizing me up to make sure I wasn’t playing games with Jenna. The whole thing still made me laugh a little, now that the intensity of it had passed.

But still, it left an impression.

Wilma popped her head out of the kitchen, eyeing me as I spaced out again. “You good? You’re staring off into space like you’re waiting for something to happen.”

I shook myself out of it. “Yeah, just thinking about the other day.”

Wilma raised an eyebrow. “You mean when Emma Myers and Melissa Barrera came in? You still stuck on that?”

“Kind of,” I admitted, pausing to lean against the counter. “I know they were testing me. You know, for Jenna. Just wanted to see if I had good intentions or whatever.”

Wilma smirked, wiping her hands on her apron. “Sounds like they take protecting their friend seriously.”

I nodded, a small smile creeping up. “Yeah, I get it. But they really threw me off. I wasn’t expecting it.”

She chuckled, disappearing back into the kitchen. “Well, it sounds like you passed the test. Guess they know you’re not a player.”

“Yeah,” I muttered to myself. “Guess so.”

Even though I knew they were just looking out for Jenna, it still weighed on me. Jenna was a big deal—bigger than I’d ever thought. And having her friends throw me into an interrogation, even under the guise of acting, made me realize how seriously they took her happiness.

And now, here I was, not just thinking about what Jenna might feel—but how I felt too.

I busied myself with brewing coffee and prepping the counter for the first wave of customers, trying to focus on the normal rhythm of the morning. But it was hard to shake the weight of it all. I didn’t mind that her friends cared so much. In fact, it made me admire Jenna even more, seeing how loyal and protective her circle was.

What I couldn’t figure out yet was how I fit into that picture.

Sure, Jenna had shown interest—at least, I was pretty sure she had. The lingering touches, the way she looked at me, the way she’d said I was different. All signs pointed to something more than friendship. But there was still that little voice in the back of my head, the one that nagged at me, questioning everything.

Would this really go anywhere? Did someone like Jenna, with her fame, her life in the spotlight, have room for someone like me? And even if she did, could I handle it? The attention, the scrutiny—it was all so far from the life I was used to.

I wiped down the counter, trying to shake the thoughts away, but they clung to me like stubborn shadows. As I finished prepping, Wilma popped up beside me, holding a tray of fresh pastries.

“You’ve been in your head all morning,” she observed, her tone light but probing. “Wanna talk about it?”

I glanced at her, shrugging slightly. “It’s just... everything with Jenna. I don’t know, Wilma. I feel like I’m overthinking it.”

Wilma raised an eyebrow, placing the tray on the counter and leaning against the wall. “Overthinking? What’s there to overthink? She likes you, right? And from what I can tell, you like her.”

I sighed, leaning against the counter. “Yeah, but it’s not that simple. I mean, look at her life. It’s so different from mine. I’m just a barista, and she’s... well, she’s Jenna Ortega.”

Wilma gave me a sympathetic smile. “Y/N, you’re not ‘just a barista.’ You’re you, and that’s why she likes you. You don’t have to fit into her world perfectly. If anything, she’s probably looking for something real, something outside of all the Hollywood craziness. And that’s what you give her.”

Her words made sense, but there was still that lingering doubt in my chest. “I guess. I just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know? I’ve been burned before.”

Wilma’s expression softened, and she reached out, placing a hand on my arm. “I get it. But you can’t let fear of the past ruin something good now. Jenna seems like she’s really into you. You just have to trust that and see where it goes.”

I nodded, appreciating her support. “Thanks, Wilma. I just... I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” she said with a reassuring smile. “Just be yourself. That’s all you need to do.”

I smiled back, feeling a little lighter. Maybe she was right. Maybe I was overthinking things. Jenna had been clear about wanting to spend time with me, and her friends had given me the third degree—which, in a weird way, was a sign that they cared about her and maybe even wanted to see if I was the real deal. That had to mean something.

The bell above the door chimed, and the first wave of customers started trickling in, pulling me back into the routine of work. But even as I poured coffee and rang up orders, the thoughts of Jenna lingered, like a low hum in the background of my mind.

Later that afternoon, I was taking a quick break in the back when my phone buzzed. I pulled it out, expecting a text from Wilma or one of my brothers, but my heart skipped when I saw Jenna’s name pop up.

I unlocked my phone, and the message made my heart flutter.

Jenna: Hey, what are you doing this next weekend? There's a fall festival in town, and I thought would be fun to check it out. Want to go with me?

A festival? The thought of walking through a fall festival with Jenna, surrounded by cozy autumn vibes, sounded perfect.

I quickly typed back, immediately.

Y/N: That sounds amazing. I’m totally down. What day were you thinking?

A few seconds later, my phone buzzed again.

Jenna: Saturday afternoon? It’s supposed to have food trucks, live music, and carnival games. We could just hang out and see where the night takes us.

I smiled, the excitement bubbling up inside me.

Y/N: I’m in! I can’t wait. Saturday it is.

After sending the message, I found myself grinning like an idiot, unable to stop thinking about how much fun next weekend was going to be. The idea of spending the day with Jenna, surrounded by the crisp fall air, pumpkins, and carnival lights, felt like something out of a dream.

As I tucked my phone back into my pocket and returned to work, my mind was already racing with thoughts of what the day might bring.

Two days later, I was back in the kitchen with Marcus and Caleb, prepping for a taco night instead of our usual routine meals. Mr. Noodles, as always, was perched on top of the fridge, his eyes darting back and forth between us as if supervising our cooking process. Caleb was working on the seasoned beef, adding his special blend of spices, while Marcus was busy chopping up vegetables, humming some random tune.

The smell of fresh tortillas and sizzling meat filled the air, making the kitchen feel warm and homey. But as much as I tried to focus on cooking, my mind kept wandering back to the fall festival and the fact that I’d be hanging out with Jenna.

“I can practically see the gears turning in your head,” Marcus said, breaking my thoughts. He wasn’t even looking at me, still focused on chopping tomatoes. “Thinking about your big day with Jenna?”

Caleb, always the more thoughtful one, glanced over from the stove. “He’s got a point, Ken. You’ve been pretty quiet for someone with a big weekend coming up.”

I shook my head, trying to brush it off. “I’m just... thinking. And it’s not a big deal.”

Marcus grinned, clearly not buying it. “Uh-huh. Just a ‘casual hangout’ with a mega-famous actress. Totally not a big deal.”

I groaned, rolling my eyes. “You guys are making it sound way bigger than it is. It’s just a festival.”

Caleb smirked, stirring the taco meat. “Sure, but it’s not every day you go to a festival with Jenna Ortega. It’s okay to admit you’re nervous.”

Before I could respond, my phone buzzed with an incoming FaceTime call. I glanced down and saw it was from Mom. “Uh-oh,” I muttered, grabbing my phone. “Mom’s calling.”

Marcus’s eyes lit up. “Oh, this should be good.”

I answered the call, and immediately, my mom’s face filled the screen, her usual bright smile greeting me. “Hey, sweetie! How’s everything going?”

“Hey, Mom,” I replied, trying to keep the conversation casual as Marcus and Caleb exchanged amused glances. “We’re just making tacos.”

Dad’s voice boomed in the background. “Tacos, huh? Save some for us!”

I laughed, and just as I was about to respond, my little sister Layla’s face popped into view, her excitement practically vibrating through the phone. “Y/N! Marcus told us you have a date with Jenna Ortega! Is it true?”

I shot Marcus a glare, and he just grinned innocently, continuing to chop vegetables. “Seriously?” I mouthed at him.

Layla’s squeal of excitement pierced the air. “I knew it! You’re going on a date with a movie star! This is so cool! Can you get her autograph for me?”

My face heated up, and I rubbed my temples, trying to keep calm. “It’s not a date, Layla. We’re just hanging out.”

But before I could explain further, Mom’s face appeared on the screen again, her smile even bigger now. “Ken, that’s wonderful! I’m so glad you’re getting out there again. It’s about time.”

Dad chuckled in the background. “You better make a good impression. Who knows? Maybe she’ll be the one.”

I groaned internally, feeling the weight of everyone’s excitement. “Guys, please, it’s not like that. We’re just going to a festival. No big deal. Casual hangout”

“Right,” Marcus chimed in, clearly enjoying this. “Just a casual outing with one of the most famous actresses in the world. Totally normal.”

Layla squealed again. “Y/N, this is awesome! You’re dating someone rich! Can you imagine all the fancy places you could go?”

I facepalmed, the teasing from my family getting worse by the second. “Layla, please. I’m still figuring things out.”

Mom chuckled, her voice softening. “We’re just happy for you, sweetie. You deserve to have fun.”

Layla was still practically bouncing off the walls. “You have to tell me all about it, okay? Even if she’s not Tom Holland, this is still huge!”

I sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, I’ll tell you about it. But seriously, it’s not as big of a deal as you’re all making it.”

Dad grinned, giving me a playful wink. “We’ll be the judge of that.”

As the teasing continued, Caleb and Marcus were grinning from ear to ear, clearly loving every minute of my embarrassment. Mr. Noodles, meanwhile, had managed to sneak closer to the plate of cheese, and Marcus had to shoo him away quickly.

After a few more minutes of chaotic family chatter, I finally ended the call, feeling both exasperated and oddly comforted by their excitement.

I turned to Marcus, narrowing my eyes. “You just had to spill the beans, didn’t you?”

He shrugged, not even pretending to be sorry. “Hey, where’s the fun in keeping secrets?”

Caleb chuckled, handing me a taco shell. “Don’t worry, Ken. We’re just happy for you.”

I sighed, taking the taco and rolling my eyes. “You guys are impossible.”

Marcus raised his taco in a mock toast. “Here’s to your ‘casual hangout’ with Jenna.”

I couldn’t help but laugh despite the embarrassment. Deep down, though, I was already feeling a mix of excitement and nerves about the weekend.

Whatever was going to happen, it was clear that my family—and Mr. Noodles—would have plenty to say about it.

Later that evening, after the chaos of dinner and the endless teasing had died down, I found myself curled up on the couch with Mr. Noodles resting comfortably on my lap. His steady purring was a welcome comfort after the whirlwind of emotions the past few days had stirred up. I absentmindedly scratched behind his ears as I scrolled through my phone, trying to unwind.

It wasn’t the festival yet, but the anticipation still hung in the air, making it hard to focus on anything else. My mind kept drifting back to Jenna, replaying every conversation, every moment we’d shared. Was I reading too much into things? Or was there something real between us?

My phone buzzed with a notification, and I glanced down, expecting it to be another message from Marcus with more teasing. But to my surprise, it was a text from Jenna.

Jenna: Hey! Hope you’re free this weekend. I was thinking we could check out this new art exhibit downtown. I heard it’s really cool, and maybe grab some coffee after?

A smile tugged at my lips. It wasn’t a festival or anything grand, but the idea of spending time with her, doing something as simple as visiting an art exhibit, felt… right. I quickly typed a response, trying to play it cool even though my heart was doing little flips in my chest.

Y/N: That sounds great! I’d love to. What time were you thinking?

She replied almost immediately.

Jenna: How about Friday around noon? We can make a whole afternoon of it if you’re up for it.

Y/N: Sounds perfect. Can’t wait!

As soon as I hit send, a wave of nervous excitement washed over me. It wasn’t just about hanging out with her anymore—it felt like something more.

I spent the rest of the evening thinking about how things had shifted between us, from casual coffee shop chats to this. It was strange, but in the best way possible.

Friday came faster than I expected, and by the time I was getting ready, the nervous excitement had hit full force. Caleb and Marcus, of course, were no help as they hovered around, watching me like vultures.

“So,” Marcus started, leaning against my bedroom doorframe with a grin. “Big day with Jenna, huh?”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide my smile. “It’s not a date.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Caleb said, smirking as he fluffed a pillow on my bed for no reason at all. “But if it were a date, hypothetically, you’d want to look good, right?”

I glanced at them both, trying to suppress a laugh. “Hypothetically.”

Marcus gave me a once-over and nodded. “Well, you’re looking date-ready to me.”

“Guys, it’s just an art exhibit..”

“Uh-huh.” Caleb exchanged a knowing look with Marcus. “Whatever you say, Y/N.”

I sighed, grabbing my jacket and throwing it over my shoulder. “Okay, I’m heading out before you two drive me crazy.”

Marcus gave me a mock salute. “Good luck, sis. You’ve got this.”

“Thanks, I guess?” I muttered, shaking my head as I headed for the door. Mr. Noodles meowed from his perch on the windowsill, watching me go with what I could only describe as mild disinterest.

When I arrived at the art gallery, Jenna was already waiting outside, dressed in a casual yet effortlessly stylish outfit, as always. She spotted me and waved with that signature smile that always made my heart skip a beat.

“Hey!” she greeted as I approached. “You ready to be blown away by some modern art?”

I grinned. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

We spent the next couple of hours wandering through the exhibit, making comments about the more abstract pieces and laughing at our completely amateur interpretations. Jenna’s knowledge of art was impressive, though she played it down, explaining how her mom had always taken her to galleries when she was younger.

It was easy being with her—comfortable, even when the conversation dipped into deeper topics. As we moved from room to room, I couldn’t help but feel like this was the kind of moment you didn’t get often—something simple, but meaningful.

After the exhibit, we grabbed coffee at a nearby café, sitting by the window as we sipped our drinks. The conversation flowed as naturally as ever, and before I knew it, hours had passed.

So,” Jenna said, her tone a bit more serious as she swirled her cup. “I’ve been meaning to ask... how are things going? You know, with The Daily Grind, and everyone?”

I looked at her, sensing that she wasn’t just asking about my day. “Things are... good. Busy, but good. And you?”

Jenna smiled softly, her eyes meeting mine. “Same. But it’s been nice... having someone to talk to. Someone who gets it.”

I felt a warmth spread through my chest, a feeling that seemed to be happening more and more whenever we talked. But there was something different in the way she said it this time. Her gaze lingered on mine, and for a brief moment, I thought I saw something flicker in her eyes.

Before I could respond, Jenna shifted slightly in her seat, her fingers tracing the rim of her coffee cup. “Actually, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” Her voice had a softer, more hesitant edge to it.

I tilted my head, intrigued. “What’s up?”

She bit her lip, almost like she was searching for the right words. “You remember when we first started hanging out? It felt... I don’t know, casual. But lately... I’ve been thinking it’s something more than that. Maybe it always has been, and I didn’t want to admit it.”

My heart pounded in my chest as I tried to process what she was saying. Was she about to say what I thought she was? Was this actually happening?

“I know I’ve been careful about keeping things... low-key,” she continued, her eyes still locked on mine. “But I’ve realized I don’t want to pretend anymore. I don’t want to overthink everything just because of how complicated my life is.”

I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you saying, Jenna?”

Jenna let out a small, nervous laugh, running a hand through her hair. “I guess what I’m trying to say is... I like you, Y/N. More than just a friend. And I’ve been trying to figure out if you feel the same way, or if I’m just imagining things.”

I blinked, stunned for a moment. Of all the things I’d imagined happening today, this was not one of them. Jenna Ortega, the girl who had been the subject of all my daydreams for the past few months, was sitting across from me, confessing her feelings. For me.

A grin spread across my face as my nervousness faded. I leaned in, gently placing a hand on hers. "You're not imagining things, Jenna," I said softly, my heart racing. "I’ve felt the same for a while. I wasn’t sure if I knew fully or was ready for it."

Jenna’s eyes widened in surprise, but a bright smile broke across her face. “Really? You’ve... felt the same?”

I nodded, my own smile growing. “Yeah. I didn’t want to push anything, especially since I know your life is crazy and complicated. But... yeah. I like you, Jenna. A lot.”

Her smile softened into something more tender, wrapping her fingers around mine and holding my hand. "I'm really glad you said that."

For a moment, we just sat there, the world outside the café falling away as we looked at each other. It was like everything had shifted between us in the span of a few sentences, but in the best possible way.

“Does this mean...” I started, trying to piece together what this meant for us. “That we’re...?”

Jenna laughed softly, her eyes twinkling. “Let’s just say we’re taking a step forward. I don’t want to rush anything, but I also don’t want to hold back anymore.”

I nodded, feeling a sense of relief wash over me. “I’m okay with that.”

We both sat back, the tension in the air replaced by something lighter, something that felt like the start of something new.

“There’s something else I’ve been meaning to tell you,” Jenna said, her tone shifting to something more serious.

I tilted my head, curious. “Yeah?”

She hesitated, fiddling with her bracelet for a moment before looking up at me. “I’ve been offered a pretty big role. It’s... out of the country, though. And it’s long-term.”

My stomach did a small flip. “Out of the country? For how long?”

Jenna sighed. “Six months, maybe longer. It’s a dream project, but I didn’t want to bring it up until I knew for sure. And now it’s official.”

I blinked, trying to process the information. “Wow. That’s... amazing, Jenna. But... six months?”

She gave a small nod, her eyes searching mine for a reaction. “Yeah, I know. It’s a lot to take in. I don’t even know how to feel about it yet. On one hand, it’s such a huge opportunity, but on the other...”

I didn’t know what to say for a second, my mind racing with thoughts. “You’re going to take it, right?”

Jenna looked down, biting her lip. “I think so. But I wanted to tell you first. I didn’t want to just... disappear without you knowing what was going on.”

I sat back, taking in her words. It felt like a heavy shift, something neither of us had been expecting. Six months was a long time, and part of me wasn’t sure how to feel about it. But at the same time, this was a huge step for Jenna, and I knew how much her work meant to her.

“I’m glad you told me,” I said, my voice steady. “It sounds like an incredible opportunity. I’m proud of you.”

Jenna smiled softly, relief washing over her face. “Thanks. I just didn’t want you to think I was... leaving, you know?”

I nodded, understanding the unspoken weight behind her words. This wasn’t just about the project; it was about us—whatever this was it was getting serious. And while the news felt like a curveball, it didn’t change how I felt. Not in the slightest.

“Well, we’ll figure it out,” I said, offering her a reassuring smile. “Whatever happens, we’ll figure it out.”

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Y/N is still reeling from her run-in with her favorite actress, Jenna Ortega, as she tries to keep things cool in The Daily Grind. Between casual conversation and a shared love for horror novels, the lines between star and stranger begin to blur. As the café empties out and the night winds down, an unexpected moment catches them both off guard—proving that sometimes, the best connections are brewed in the quietest of moments.

Word Count: 1.5k

As I poured the caramel syrup into the iced coffee, my mind raced, replaying the moment Jenna Ortega pulled down her mask. My hands were slightly shaky, trying to maintain focus as I finished off the whipped cream swirl on top. It wasn't every day your favorite actress sat just a few feet away, waiting for you to bring her a drink. The—Jenna Ortega. It wasn't just any celebrity—this was her. I'd admired her ever since her performance on Wednesday. A week ago, I was geeking out to my friends after watching her take on the role of Astrid Deetz in Tim Burton's Beetlejuice Beetlejuice. When she appeared as a cameo in that recent Sabrina Carpenter music video, I was convinced she could do no wrong. I'd followed her career for years, through every role, every transformation. And now here she was, casually sitting in my café, probably just wanting to be treated like anyone else.

But it wasn't just anyone else to me. This was the actress I had looked up to for years, and I was the one making her coffee. I could already feel my face growing warm with the realization, but I pushed the thoughts aside. Stay calm, Y/N. It's just coffee. As I finished the drink, placing it neatly on the counter next to a napkin, I took a deep breath and reached for the tray, trying to look like I wasn't about to freak out. Just as I turned to deliver the order, Wilma emerged from the back, wiping her hands on her apron. She gave me a sideways glance, then noticed the look on my face. She smirked, walking over with a bounce in her step. "So, how's Hoodie holding up?" she asked, leaning against the counter, clearly entertained by whatever she thought was happening. "You look like you've seen a ghost or something."

I tried to play it off. "It's nothing—just another customer, you know?" Wilma wasn't buying it. Her smirk widened as she crossed her arms. "Uh-huh. Just another customer? The same one who's been looking over their shoulder thrice this week? Oh, please." She leaned closer, her voice lowering like she was about to spill the juicest secret. "You're acting like your celebrity crush just walked in or something." I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks and quickly shook my head. "Wilma, seriously, it's nothing. Just another order." But Wilma raised an eyebrow, completely unconvinced. She wasn't going to let this go. "Just another order, huh? You've got that look, Y/N. I know that look. Spill it." She glanced toward the booth, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Wait a minute...don't tell me. Jenna Ortega? Oh my God—it's her, isn't it? I shot her a desperate look, hoping to shut her down before she made a scene. "Wilma—" But she was already grinning ear to ear, loving every second of this. "Holy crap, Jenna—freakin'—Ortega is in our café! And I threw you right into it! This is too good." I sighed, knowing there was no way I could stop her now. "Wilma, keep your voice down! She's just trying to be left alone." Wilma's eyes sparkled, totally unfazed. "Well, aren't you the lucky one? Getting to talk to your celebrity crush? And here I thought you'd hide behind the counter all day." She gave me a playful nudge, clearly enjoying herself. I huffed, trying to control the blush that was now spreading across my face. "I didn't have a choice. You practically pushed me into it." Wilma laughed, crossing her arms, satisfied with how things had turned out. "Well, looks like my plan worked. And now, you've got a story to tell." I glared at her, though I couldn't help the small smile tugging at my lips. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the assist, I guess." "Anytime," she replied, still grinning. "Now go deliver that coffee before it melts. Don't want to keep Jenna waiting, do you?" I took one final breath to calm my nerves, grabbed the tray with Jenna's iced coffee, and shot Wilma one last look as I headed toward the booth. "You're enjoying this way too much." Wilma winked. "Oh, absolutely."

With the tray in hand, I made my way toward Jenna's booth, taking slow, deliberate steps, trying not to trip over anything that could make this moment even more awkward. My heart was still hammering in my chest, and I swore I could feel Wilma's eyes burning a hole in the back of my head as she watched me. Jenna hadn't noticed me yet. She was sitting in the booth, quietly absorbed in a book. Her fingers absentmindedly traced the edges of the page as she read, the soft glow from her phone resting nearby. For a second, I hesitated, not wanting to interrupt her peaceful moment, but I had to deliver the iced coffee she was waiting for. I cleared my throat quietly, just enough to catch her attention. "Your iced coffee," I said, setting the tray down gently on the table. She blinked, looking up from her book, pulling her hood back slightly as she met my gaze. A small, genuine smile tugged at her lips. "Thanks," she said softly, closing the book but keeping her finger between the pages to hold her place. "No problem," I replied, stepping back and clasping my hands in front of me, trying to act casual. My eyes flickered to the book in her lap; the title was just barely visible. I recognized it immediately— it was a classic horror novel I'd read a few years back. Of course, she's into horror. She caught me looking, and instead of feeling awkward, I smiled. "So...do you come here to escape, or is this just your go-to spot for caramel iced coffee?" Jenna smirked, taking a sip before answering. "A little bit of both. It's hard to find places like this in Hollywood—where people don't care who you are." "We're not big on the whole celebrity worship thing," I replied. "I mean, everyone needs their coffee fix, right?" "Exactly." She smiled again, this time wider, her eyes lighting up. There was something refreshing about the way she relaxed here. It felt like she wasn't just Jenna Ortega, the star of the screen, but a regular person looking for a little peace. I noticed the book still resting in her lap. "is that The Haunting of Hill House?" Her eyebrows lifted slightly, and she was clearly surprised I recognized it. "Yeah, it is," she replied, glancing down at the cover. I've read it before but thought I'd revisit it."

I nodded, a bit of my nervousness fading. "Good choice. Shirley Jackson really knows how to mess with your head, right?" Jenna's smile widened a little as she leaned back in her seat. "Exactly. It's one of my favorites. Creepy, but in a subtle way." I found myself relaxing, the conversation flowing more easily than I expected. "Yeah, the tension in that book...you just feel it building, and you don't even realize you're holding your breath until something happens." She chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Right? I love that feeling when a book gets under your skin." For a brief second, I forgot she was Hollywood's it girl. She was just another person who loved horror novels, just like me. "Well, I'll leave you to it," I said, realizing I'd been lingering too long. "But if you need anything else, just let me know." Jenna picked up her iced coffee and smiled. "Thanks. I will." I turned and headed back to the counter, feeling Wilma's eyes follow suit the whole time.

The second I made it behind the counter, she sidled up next to me with a wide grin. "Sooo? How'd it go, mascot?" she teased, elbowing me. I huffed, rolling my eyes. "I didn't die, if that's what you're asking." Wilma laughed, leaning against the counter. "Oh, come on, spill. Did you chat with her? Did she say anything?" "Yeah, we talked a little," I admitted, feeling the blush creep back onto my face. "She was reading The Haunting of Hill House—you know, classic horror stuff. I tried to keep it cool." Wilma raised an eyebrow. "And?" "And she was super chill about everything. We even geeked out over Shirley Jackson." Wilma's grin widened. "Looks like Jenna approves of your horror knowledge and barista skills. You must be so proud." I groaned, shaking my head. "Please stop." She shrugged, smirk, plastered. "Hey, who knows? Maybe she'll come back just for you." I sighed, rolling my eyes. "If she does, I'll need more than coffee to calm my nerves next time." Wilma chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "Nerves? More like butterflies." I shot her a look but couldn't help smirking. "Yeah, and hopefully, I don't spill anything on myself next time." Wilma nodded, raising her hands in mock surrender. "Fair enough, superstar. Just remember me when you're living the high life." I glanced back at Jenna's booth one last time. She was already back in her book, occasionally sipping her iced coffee with a relaxed expression. "I guess we'll see in the future."

Three hours until closing, the café had settled into a familiar lull. A handful of customers lingered in their cozy corners, sipping the last of their drinks and enjoying the quiet, low hum of conversation around them. I busied myself behind the counter, wiping it down out of habit, but as I worked, I couldn't help but feel proud. This is exactly the vibe we had hoped for when Wilma and I opened The Daily Grind—a safe haven for anyone who wanted to escape the hustle and bustle of Hollywood, whether they were famous or not. Our little café has become a sanctuary where the pressure of being judged is nonexistent. It was calm, cozy, and welcoming—a little quiet in a city of lights, cameras, and action.

The cafe itself radiated that comforting atmosphere. The evening sun filtered through the tall windows, casting a warm amber glow over the space. The walls were painted in soft, earthy tones—warm beige and deep mocha—creating an atmosphere that wrapped around you like your favorite blanket. String lights twinkled gently overhead, casting a soft, golden light across the mismatched cushioned chairs and rustic wooden tables. Above the tables, lush green plants dangled from the ceiling in macramé holders, their vines cascading down like little waterfalls of greenery, adding a fresh, earthy scent to the room. The plants brought a touch of nature inside, softening the edges of the café's industrial-chic décor. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and the faint scent of vanilla candles that burned on the windowsills. The rest of the evening went by quietly, with a comforting rhythm of soft chatter and the occasional clink of mugs. I was leaning over the counter, enjoying the calm, when Wilma came up beside me, holding a pink box. "Hey, mascot," she said, nudging me gently. "It's three hours to closing. Why don't you take this over to Primera?" She lifted the lid to reveal a perfectly frosted strawberry donut with rainbow sprinkles. "Primera?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at the nickname. Wilma smirked. "Yeah, Primera. It means 'first' in Spanish—like the top of her game. She's Hollywood's leading lady, right? It fits." I rolled my eyes but took the box from her. "You and your nicknames." "Hey, it's fitting. Now go give her the donut before I eat it myself," Wilma replied with a chuckled.

As I made my way over to Jenna's booth, I could feel the familiar flutter of nerves returning. She was still engrossed in her book, oblivious to the world around her. I cleared my throat softly as I approached, setting the box on the table. "Hey, I thought you might like this," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "It's on the house." Jenna looked up, blinking in surprise. "A donut?" She smiled, peeking inside the box. "With sprinkles?" "Strawberry frosted with sprinkles," I replied a little too quickly. "One of my favorites." Her smile widened, and she closed her book, giving the donut her full attention. "Thank you. This is...really sweet of you. Literally." I laughed softly, suddenly feeling a bit less nervous. "Well, we figured you could use a treat, seeing as you've been hanging out here for a while." Jenna nodded, taking the donut from the box and tearing off a piece. "This place is a perfect hideaway. I don't think I've ever felt this...relaxed in public." "Well, that's exactly what we aim for," I said, smiling as she took a bite of the donut. Jenna smirked and raised an eyebrow, her eyes glinting playfully. "And here I thought you were going to spill the sugar again." I chuckled, feeling the heat creep up my neck. "Hey, I managed to keep it together this time. Progress, right?" She smiled. "I'll give you that. But if you need a backup plan, I think the sprinkled donut would cover for any future spills."

Fifty minutes before closing. I was wiping down the counters when Wilma came up beside me, pulling off her apron and holding her bag. "Hey, mascot," she said, glancing at the clock. "I've gotta head out. Time to pick up the little monsters from soccer practice." I raised an eyebrow. "The twins?" She nodded, rolling her eyes. "Yup, those two can't stay out of trouble. If I don't get there on time, they'll probably have convinced the coach to let them play goalie...at the same time." I chuckled. "Good luck with that. Go, save the day." Wilma gave me a dramatic sigh. "You know me, always the hero. But seriously, are you okay with closing up tonight?" "Yeah, I've got it. It's a quiet night." Wilma smirked. "Alright, just don't let Primera keep you past closing. She's still over there, right?" I glanced over toward Jenna's usual booth and shrugged. "I think so. She's been pretty quiet. Probably lost in her book." Wilma, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. "Well, don't let her charm you too much. I'll see you tomorrow, mascot." With that, she gave me a quick wave and hurried out the door, leaving me alone to finish up the last stretch of the evening. The café slowly emptied out, and as I tidied up, I assumed Jenna had left too. After all, I hadn't noticed her in a while. But as I wiped down the tables and put the chairs up, I glanced over at the window and froze.

She was still there

Curled up in her hoodie, her head resting against the window, she looked peaceful, completely engulfed in her book. Her iced coffee was finished, and the remains of the sprinkled donut sat on the napkin, crumbs scattered on it. It was only twenty minutes until closing, and I realized I'd have to get her attention. I changed from my apron and walked over. "Jenna?" I called softly, not wanting to startle her. She didn't respond, enthralled with the pages. After another unsuccessful attempt, I reached out and gently tapped her shoulder. She jumped slightly, eyes widening in surprise as she looked up at me. "Hey," she said softly, clearly shaken out of her book-induced daze. I chuckled, stepping back. "Sorry, I hate to bother you, but it's closing time." Jenna blinked, glancing around the now-empty cafe. Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink as she realized she was the last one there. "Oh, wow, I didn't even notice. Sorry about that." "No problem," I said, giving her a reassuring smile. "Take your time packing up." I tried to make the situation less awkward as she gathered her things. "You know, I've really enjoyed watching you in... well, everything," I admitted, feeling a bit shy. "Especially Wednesday and Beetlejuice 2. But I've been a fan of your work for a long time." Jenna smiled, her expression softening. "Thank you. That means a lot."

She slung her bag over her shoulder and paused, glancing at me curiously. Actually, can I ask you something?" I blinked. "Of course." "What's your honest opinion of my acting? I always like hearing what people outside the industry think. It's...different." Surprised by the question, I hesitated for a moment, but then I nodded. "Honestly? I think you're amazing. Every time you're on screen, it's like... all eyes are on you. You make it look so effortless like you become the character. It's impressive." Jenna's cheeks turned a little pink again, and this time, I knew it wasn't my imagination. "Wow," she said softly. "That's...probably the nicest feedback I've heard in a while. Thank you." We walked out of the café together, and I didn't realize she'd been walking with me to my car until we reached the lot. We stood there, lingering momentarily, both of us realizing simultaneously. Jenna giggled lightly. "Looks like I walked you to your car instead of the other way around. Guess you've got me charmed after all." I laughed, feeling my own cheeks heat up. Before I could respond, two men in casual clothing approached us from the side, startling me. I froze, eyes wide, but Jenna remained calm. "Don't scare her like that," Jenna said, scolding the men. "Apologize." "Sorry, ma'am, one of the men said quickly, looking genuinely sorry. "They're my bodyguards," Jenna explained, turning to me. "They're with me 24/7, but I told them to give me space in the café. Guess they couldn't resist checking in." I let out a breath, feeling relieved. "That makes sense. We've got a security guard next door at the boutiqué, so I get it. I've also seen bodyguards hang out in the café, keeping an eye on things." Jenna nodded, smiling. "I'll have to bring them in next time for a coffee." I grinned. "Yeah, and I'll have to tell you about the crazy stuff I've seen. We've got some funny bodyguard stories." Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile playful. "I'll hold you to that. Sounds like a promise," "It's a promise," I said, trying to keep my voice steady though my heart was racing. As Jenna opened her car door, she paused.

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: Y/N's day at The Daily Grind takes a turn when Emma Myers and Melissa Barrera drop by for coffee, only to put her through an intense "interrogation" as part of a method-acting experiment. Shaken but honest, Y/N navigates the surprise encounter with grace. Later, Jenna learns about her friends' little test, leaving her blushing and flustered—but also even more impressed with Y/N's sincerity.

Word Count: 5.5k

I walked back into my apartment, the door shutting softly behind me, but it felt like I was in a daze. Jenna's words kept echoing in my head, that look she gave me—it was like I had been hit by something I couldn't quite process. My heart was still racing, my palms sweaty as I stood there for a moment, trying to calm myself down.

The smell of pizza and something else delicious filled the apartment, and I could hear my brothers in the kitchen, talking and laughing. Mr. Noodles’ little meow followed, adding to the noise. I barely registered any of it, though. My mind was still stuck on Jenna. "You're different. And I mean that in a good way."

Was she really interested in me? Really?

Shaking my head, I made my way toward the kitchen, feeling like I was in some weird dream.

Marcus was standing by the counter, tossing pizza dough into the air like he was some kind of professional chef, a smug grin on his face. Caleb was leaning against the stove, watching chicken sizzle in the pan, probably for pizza toppings. Mr. Noodles had somehow managed to jump up onto Marcus’s shoulder, his tiny paws pressing against the side of Marcus’s head as if he was trying to get in on the action.

As I stepped into the kitchen, Marcus noticed me first. “Yo, Y/N! You back already?” he called out, his grin faltering as he glanced at me. His hands stopped mid-toss. “Whoa, wait. You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost or something.”

Caleb turned around at that, his brow furrowed as he took me in. “Yeah, you look kind of pale. What happened? You sick or something?”

I blinked, finally registering their concerned expressions. I must’ve looked worse than I felt.

“I—uh, no, I’m fine,” I said, my voice a little shaky as I tried to shake off the daze. “I’m... just processing.”

Marcus, ever the joker, chuckled. “Processing what? Did you see Jenna's ghost or something? I mean, I wouldn’t blame you. That girl has an aura.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to focus on their teasing to ground myself. But they were right. I did feel like I’d seen a ghost, only the ghost was the realization that maybe—just maybe—Jenna liked me as more than a friend.

I leaned against the doorway, running a hand through my hair. “It’s... complicated.”

Caleb’s serious expression didn’t waver as he stepped closer, the concern still etched on his face. “Complicated how? Something happen tonight? Was it Jenna?”

I hesitated. I didn’t know how to explain this without sounding ridiculous, but I had to say something. My brothers were good at reading me, and it wasn’t like I could hide anything from them.

“Yeah,” I said finally, exhaling as I stared at the floor. “Something happened.”

Marcus gently shifted Mr. Noodles off his shoulder, the cat landing gracefully on the counter next to the pizza dough. “Well, spit it out. What happened?”

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it, not entirely sure how to phrase what I was feeling. “She... I think she’s interested in me. Like... really interested.”

The kitchen fell silent for a moment as both my brothers processed what I’d just said. Caleb’s expression softened with understanding, while Marcus’s face broke into a knowing grin.

“Well, well, well,” Marcus said, tossing the dough back onto the counter. “Took her long enough to realize how awesome you are.”

I huffed out a small laugh, but Caleb wasn’t done.

“Wait, so when you say she’s interested, do you mean she actually told you or...?” Caleb asked, leaning back against the counter, arms crossed. “Because that’s kind of a big deal, Y/N.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling the weight of their stares. “She didn’t outright say it, but... it was in the way she looked at me. The way she said I was ‘different’ in a good way.” I shrugged, feeling suddenly small under their gazes. “I don’t know. It felt... like more than just friends, you know?”

Marcus leaned forward, placing his hands on the counter. “Oh yeah. I know that look. That’s definitely something.”

Caleb nodded, more thoughtful than Marcus’s laid-back reaction. “That’s... wow. I mean, are you ready for something like that? I know you’ve been cautious about all of this.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, more to myself than them. “I’m just... trying to process it.”

Marcus clapped me on the back, a wide grin still plastered on his face. “Hey, if she’s into you, that’s huge. You just need to figure out what you want, sis. Don’t overthink it.”

Easier said than done

I watched as Mr. Noodles casually stretched out on the counter next to the leftover flour-covered dough Marcus had abandoned. Amused, I kept my eyes on him as he stretched his little paws out and started kneading the dough, his tiny claws pressing into it like he was trying to knead the dough himself.

Marcus caught sight of it too, bursting into laughter. “Look at this! Mr. Noodles thinks he’s a chef now!”

I chuckled, watching the cat’s surprisingly focused effort. “Looks like he’s kneading his own pizza. You better be careful, Marcus—he might take your job.”

Caleb glanced over, shaking his head with a grin. “At least someone’s contributing. Who knew we had a master chef on our hands?”

Mr. Noodles, fully engrossed in his little task, meowed softly, as if he understood we were talking about him. His kneading was strangely hypnotic, each little press of his paws into the dough almost rhythmic.

“Who knew making pizza required such precision?” Marcus teased, gently pulling the dough away from the determined feline. “Alright, chef, time for a break.”

Mr. Noodles protested with a soft meow, but he allowed Marcus to nudge him away, his little baking session cut short.

“Next time, I’ll let him handle the dough,” Marcus joked, placing the now-pawed dough aside with a smirk.

I couldn’t help but laugh, the absurdity of the situation lightening the heavy thoughts swirling in my head. For a brief moment, despite my whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me, the sight of him made me smile. He always had a way of grounding me, reminding me that sometimes life didn’t have to be so complicated.

“Yeah, I guess I just need time to think,” I said, glancing at my brothers. “It’s a lot to take in.”

Caleb nodded, his serious expression softening as he turned back to the stove, flipping the chicken in the pan. “Take all the time you need. But don’t leave her hanging. If she likes you, you should give it a shot.”

Marcus, on the other hand, was already back to tossing his dough again. “Yeah, but don’t wait too long. Jenna seems like the type who doesn’t play games.”

I snorted. “You don’t know the half of it.”

The three of us fell into a comfortable silence after that, the sounds of sizzling chicken and dough slapping against the counter filling the air. I was grateful for the distraction. As my brothers finished making the pizza, I helped set the table, all the while trying to organize my thoughts.

What did I want? Could I really see myself being more than just friends with Jenna? Did I even want that? The feelings were so new and unexpected that it was hard to wrap my head around them.

As we sat down to eat, Marcus cut the pizza into uneven slices, and we passed the plates around. Mr. Noodles, ever the opportunist, hopped up on the table, eyeing the chicken toppings.

“Dude, seriously?” Marcus groaned, trying to gently nudge him off the table. Mr. Noodles meowed in protest but eventually jumped down, retreating to his food bowl. “That cat has no shame.”

I laughed, grateful for the moment of normalcy. “You leave him alone. He’s just hungry.”

As we ate, the conversation shifted to lighter topics—Marcus’s job at the gym, Caleb’s latest project at work—but in the back of my mind, Jenna was still there. Her smile, her touch, that look she gave me. I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready.

After dinner, I retreated to my room, flopping down on my bed with a sigh. My phone was next to me, tempting me to reach out to Jenna, but I hesitated. I didn’t want to rush anything, not yet.

Instead, I grabbed my laptop and pulled up a movie—something mindless to distract myself from overthinking. Mr. Noodles curled up at the foot of my bed, his purring the only sound in the room as I let the movie play in the background.

But even as the movie ran, I couldn’t help but replay the night in my head. The way Jenna’s hug lingered, how close she stood to me, the warmth in her voice when she said, “You’re... different.”

I didn’t know what was going to happen next, but for the first time in a while, I felt... hopeful.

Maybe this was the start of something good

I was back at work at The Daily Grind, feeling unusually calm considering the whirlwind of thoughts Jenna had left me with. I kept myself busy, making drinks and tidying up the counter, but my mind couldn’t help but wander back to that hug—the way Jenna had looked at me and the things she had said. It was clear now that Jenna was interested in me, and the idea both excited and unnerved me.

The bell above the café door chimed, and I glanced up out of habit. To my mild surprise, in walked Emma Myers and Melissa Barrera, looking every bit the movie stars they were. I straightened up, maintaining my usual casual vibe as I greeted them.

"Hey, Welcome to The Daily Grind. What can I get for you?" I asked, keeping things professional but laid-back.

Emma leaned against the counter, flashing an easy smile. "I'll have a caramel macchiato. Heard you make a good one."

I nodded, entering the order. “You heard right.” I looked over to Melissa, who was studying the menu.

"I'll take a latte with almond milk," Melissa added with a soft smile, giving off a calm, cool aura.

I rang them up without missing a beat, but as I handed them their change, Emma glanced down at my name tag. “Thanks, Y/N,” she said casually.

I blinked, feeling a twinge of surprise. "Wait... how do you know my name?"

Emma grinned, pointing at my name badge. “It’s right there,” she said with a wink.

I smirked, realizing how caught off guard I had been. “Right. That makes sense.” I turned to prepare their drinks, and in a few minutes, handed them over with a nod. “Enjoy.”

Instead of heading straight for a table, Emma looked back at me. “Why don’t you join us when you get a chance? Just for a chat.”

I raised an eyebrow but shrugged casually. “Sure, why not?”

Once my work was done and I had a moment, I grabbed a water and joined them at a booth. The energy between the actresses had shifted slightly from friendly to something a little more intense. I tried to shake it off, taking a seat across from them.

“So, Y/N,” Melissa began, her tone more serious now. “Tell us about yourself.”

I raised an eyebrow, surprised by the sudden change in atmosphere. "Uh, not much to tell," I replied evenly. "I work here, I read in my free time, I’m just doing my thing."

Emma smiled, but there was a sharpness behind it. “What about your childhood? Were you always the ‘doing my thing’ type?”

I let out a nervous chuckle, my confidence beginning to falter. “I was pretty quiet as a kid. Kept to myself, liked reading, drawing—normal stuff. Yeah, I guess I’ve always been a little low-key.”

The questions kept coming, bouncing between Emma and Melissa. They dug into my job, my childhood, my habits, and my personality. I could feel the unease building in my chest. Their expressions had turned serious—too serious—and I felt my confidence slipping away, replaced by something cold, something like fear. It was as if I was being interrogated, and I couldn't figure out why.

Then Melissa leaned in, her eyes narrowing as she stared at me. “Tell me something, Y/N… have you ever taken advantage of kind people? You know, someone who’s maybe a little rich, a little vulnerable. Played with their heart?”

My brow furrowed, my mind processing the question. “N-no, I wouldn’t do that,” I stammered, my voice a little shaky now. “I’ve actually been in situations where I was the one being used. People have taken advantage of my kindness or money before. Pretended to care, you know? And it sucked. I know how that feels, so I wouldn’t do that to anyone.”

Melissa’s gaze remained locked on me, her expression unreadable. I shifted uncomfortably, my hands gripping my water bottle as I tried to steady myself. Emma, who had been quiet for a moment, seemed almost emotional, her eyes glistening.

“You’re being honest,” Melissa said, her tone still sharp, though her eyes had softened.

“Y-yeah, of course I am,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. I could feel my face heating up, my heart pounding in my chest. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Emma let out a breath, her gaze softening as she wiped at her eyes. “You’re good, Y/N.”

I glanced between them, my confusion growing. “Okay, but seriously… what was that about? Why all the deep questions?”

Melissa and Emma exchanged a glance, then laughed, the tension in the air suddenly dissipating. “We’re sorry,” Melissa said, shaking her head. “We were practicing for a new film. We play these intense characters, and we needed to test out an intimidation tactic.”

I blinked, my confusion turning to relief, mixed with lingering unease. “Wait, so… that was an act? You were practicing on me?”

“Yeah,” Emma said, still chuckling. “We thought it would be fun to randomly choose a place and test our new character tactic on the first person we saw. You know, method acting and all that. Plus, you handled it really well.”

I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, a shaky smile forming on my lips. “Well, I’m glad I could help. You really had me there for a minute.”

Melissa gave me an apologetic smile. “Sorry for being so intense. Thanks for playing along, though.”

“No problem,” I replied, though my hands were still trembling slightly as I set my water down.

As they finished up their drinks, the actresses stood to leave. Emma gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. “Thanks again, Y/N. We owe you one.”

I watched them walk out, feeling a mix of humor and residual anxiety. It had been a strange encounter, but it made for an interesting—if unnerving—day at work. I shook my head, a small smile on my face.

“Just another day at The Daily Grind,” I muttered to myself, heading back behind the counter.

The private dining room of one of L.A.’s most exclusive restaurants, La Maison Privée, was bathed in soft golden light. It was a place where only the elite dined, a gem in the city where celebrities could gather without the intrusion of fans or cameras. The kind of place where even the staff operated with the utmost discretion. The tables were dressed in crisp white linens, the soft hum of quiet conversation filling the elegant space.

Jenna sat comfortably, a glass of sparkling water in her hand, casually chatting with Emma and Melissa. They had all decided to meet up for dinner after a busy day, enjoying the rare moment where they could hang out like regular friends, even if the setting was far from ordinary.

Emma leaned back in her chair, glancing at the menu. "I still can’t get used to how fancy this place is,” she said with a grin. “Like, I feel like I’m underdressed even though I’m wearing something I thought was way too expensive."

Jenna chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. "I know, right? I always feel like we should be sitting here in ball gowns or something, but then I remember half the people here are in hoodies and designer sneakers. It’s a weird mix of casual and high-end."

Melissa, who had been browsing the menu, set it down and smiled. "Well, I’m definitely not complaining. It's good to hang out like this. I've been so swamped lately with shooting, I haven't had a decent meal that wasn’t craft services in weeks."

Jenna nodded in agreement, her mind drifting for a moment to her own schedule. "Yeah, it’s been pretty wild for me too. I’ve got a couple of projects lined up—nothing I can talk about yet, of course—but let’s just say my schedule is going to get even crazier soon."

Emma raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "A new show, or…?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

Jenna grinned, shaking her head. "Nice try, but no spoilers. I’m not even sure if I’m going to be fully involved yet—it’s more of a potential cameo situation. But it’s exciting, and I’ll let you know as soon as I can."

Melissa smirked. "Sounds mysterious. You’re always good at keeping us in suspense, Jenna."

Jenna gave a playful shrug, the corners of her mouth twitching in amusement. "It’s part of the job. Gotta keep things under wraps until the official announcements come through. But yeah, it’s something that could be a lot of fun. You’ll both love it if it works out."

The conversation flowed naturally between them, moving from upcoming projects to everyday life. Emma, her usual bubbly self, started talking about a new hobby she had picked up.

"So, I started gardening," Emma said, laughing as she fiddled with her fork. "I know, it sounds super random, but it’s actually really relaxing. I have a whole bunch of plants now—some of them are even still alive."

Jenna smiled warmly, leaning back in her chair. "That’s awesome, Emma. I’ve always wanted to try that, but I’m pretty sure I’d kill everything I planted."

"Same," Melissa chimed in, shaking her head. "I’m more of a ‘keep it artificial so I don’t have to worry about it’ kind of person."

Emma shrugged, grinning. "It’s all about balance, right? I figure if I can keep one plant alive, I’ve done my job."

Jenna laughed softly, her mind momentarily drifting back to her hectic day before this peaceful moment. She had been so consumed with her schedule lately that she hadn't had much time for herself. And now, sitting here with her friends, enjoying the quiet company, it was a refreshing change from the constant rush of the spotlight.

"Honestly, just having moments like this is what keeps me sane," Jenna said after a moment of reflection. "It’s nice to just... slow down and not worry about the next thing for a little while."

Melissa nodded in agreement. "Yeah, you’ve got to take those breaks when you can. This industry will eat you alive if you don’t."

They paused as the server arrived to take their orders. After some light banter with the waiter about the best dishes on the menu, they ordered their meals—each of them opting for something light but deliciously indulgent.

As the server left, Emma leaned forward again, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "So, Jenna, what’s your day-to-day like lately? Are you still doing your early morning runs?"

Jenna smiled and nodded. "Yeah, when I can. It’s become a bit of a routine for me now. Clears my head, and I feel like I can tackle anything afterward. Plus, it's one of the few times I get to be completely alone."

"Alone in the middle of L.A.?" Melissa raised an eyebrow.

"Well, alone enough," Jenna clarified with a laugh. "I’ve got my route down, and the early mornings are quiet. Not many people are out yet."

Emma smiled, looking thoughtful. "I get that. It’s good to have that time for yourself, especially when things get crazy."

The conversation continued, seamlessly moving from one topic to the next, the mood light and friendly. It felt like any other casual hangout, despite the lavish surroundings. Jenna loved these moments, where she could just be herself without the weight of her career pressing down on her. Here, in this private, secluded space, they could relax and enjoy each other's company without the world watching.

The plates of food arrived, and the three women dug in, the conversation turning to light gossip about Hollywood and their mutual friends. They laughed about awkward red carpet moments, shared stories about on-set mishaps, and gushed over the most recent fashion trends they were obsessed with.

As they enjoyed their meals, the conversation naturally shifted to their day, with Emma and Melissa chatting about their recent activities. It wasn’t long before the topic of Y/N came up, almost nonchalantly at first.

“Oh, speaking of running into people,” Melissa began, cutting a piece of her grilled fish. “Emma and I stopped by The Daily Grind earlier today. You know, the little coffee spot near Mystic Lens Studios?”

Jenna, in the middle of sipping her drink, raised an eyebrow curiously. “Really? What were you guys doing there?”

Emma grinned, setting her fork down as if she’d been waiting for the perfect moment to share this. “Well, we had a little… chat with your friend Y/N.”

Jenna’s face immediately flushed pink, her eyes widening as she set her glass down a little too hard on the table. “Wait, what? You—what did you do?”

Melissa chuckled, shaking her head, but Emma continued, her tone lighthearted. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything crazy. Y/N is so nice, by the way. Super polite, genuine, all the good things. We just had a little conversation, you know, to get a sense of her character.”

Jenna’s face was now a deep shade of red, her embarrassment growing as the realization of what her friends had done hit her. “You didn’t… intimidate her, did you?” She turned to Emma, eyes wide with disbelief. “You? Since when are you part of Melissa’s intimidation squad?”

Emma laughed, waving her hands in defense. “I know, I know, but I just wanted to make sure. You’ve been talking about Y/N a lot lately, and well, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to see for myself if Y/N was as great as you say.”

Melissa chimed in, her tone nonchalant but amused. “We didn’t go that hard, Jenna. Just a little grilling, that’s all. She handled it really well, though—answered all our questions, didn’t flinch or back down. Very impressive.”

Jenna groaned, burying her face in her hands. “Oh my god, I can’t believe you two. When I gush about someone, you’re supposed to trust my judgment! Not go all ‘good cop, bad cop’ on them.”

Emma reached across the table, her expression more apologetic now. “We weren’t trying to scare her. Honestly, Y/N was super sweet and sincere. I think we just got a little carried away.”

Melissa nodded, her expression softening as well. “Yeah, we meant no harm. Besides, Y/N seems like a good person. But, just so you know,” she added, her voice lowering slightly, “if Y/N ever hurts you, there’s going to be hell to pay.”

Jenna glanced between them, her embarrassment easing a little but still present. She sighed, leaning back in her chair. “You guys are ridiculous. But… thanks, I guess. Just don’t go around doing that to every person I introduce you to.”

Emma smiled sheepishly, and Melissa chuckled softly. “We promise,” Melissa said. “But, Jenna, you know we’ve got your back. We just wanted to be sure Y/N was everything you’ve said.”

Jenna couldn’t help but smile, even though she was still blushing. “Okay, okay. But next time, just trust me, alright? Y/N’s a good person. I wouldn’t hang out with her if she wasn’t.”

Emma raised her hand in mock surrender. “Scout’s honor.”

Melissa smirked. “Consider it noted.”

The tension eased as the trio shared a laugh, the mood returning to its earlier lightheartedness. But deep down, Jenna couldn’t help but feel a strange warmth at how much her friends cared, even if they had their unorthodox ways of showing it.

She was grateful for them, but also secretly relieved that Y/N had passed their impromptu “test” with flying colors.

As they continued their dinner, Jenna made a mental note to apologize to Y/N later—though part of her couldn’t help but chuckle at the thought of her friends playing interrogator.

After their dinner, the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, but Jenna’s mind remained partially fixated on the encounter her friends had with Y/N. She felt a mix of relief and embarrassment, wondering how Y/N had handled the grilling and whether she had sensed what was really going on. Jenna trusted Y/N, but the idea of her friends putting her through some kind of “test” still lingered in her mind.

As the evening wrapped up, Jenna said goodbye to Emma and Melissa at the entrance of the exclusive restaurant. Greg and Will brought her car around, and after exchanging a few more lighthearted jokes with her friends, she got into the back seat, her thoughts drifting back to Y/N as she drove through the quiet streets of L.A.

The next morning, Jenna woke up early. She had a few hours free before her schedule picked up with meetings and appointments, but her mind was on one thing. She knew she should probably talk to Y/N about what had happened, if only to clear the air and explain what her friends had done.

Jenna grabbed her phone, hesitating for a moment before typing out a quick text:

Jenna: Hey, morning! Free to hang out today?

She stared at the screen for a second before pressing send. Jenna felt an odd flutter in her chest. Things had shifted between her and Y/N after that night—there was no denying it. Y/N had clearly been affected by the lingering hug, the look they shared, and the words she’d said. And Jenna… well, Jenna had been thinking about that moment far more than she’d expected.

Her phone buzzed almost immediately.

Y/N: Hey! Yeah, I’ve got some time this afternoon. What’s up?

Jenna smiled and typed back quickly.

Jenna: Just wanted to catch up. Maybe grab coffee?

Y/N: Sounds good! Same place as usual?

Jenna: Perfect. See you there at 2?

With the plan set, Jenna got ready, her mind swirling with thoughts of what to say, how to bring up the strange "interrogation" without making Y/N feel uncomfortable, and—most of all—what this all meant for the two of them.

Later that afternoon, Jenna arrived at The Daily Grind, their usual meeting spot. The familiar, cozy atmosphere welcomed her, and the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. She spotted Y/N behind the counter, preparing drinks for a few customers, and Jenna couldn't help but smile to herself, but something in the back of her mind still nagged her about what her friends might've done.

Y/N looked up and noticed her, waving with a small smile as she finished up an order. Jenna grabbed a table by the window, a spot they often sat at when they hung out here. A few minutes later, Y/N appeared with two drinks in hand—a caramel macchiato for Jenna and a cappuccino for herself.

“Hey, Jenna,” Y/N greeted, sliding into the seat across from her. “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Jenna replied, her eyes lingering on Y/N a little longer than usual. “How about you? Busy day?”

Y/N shrugged, smiling. “Not too bad. Just the usual caffeine addicts and students cramming for finals.”

Jenna nodded, taking a sip of her drink, but couldn’t shake her curiosity. “So, anything interesting happen this week?”

Y/N thought for a moment, tapping her fingers on the table. “Actually, yeah. A couple of actresses came in the other day—Melissa Barrera and Emma Myers. You know them?”

Jenna froze for a second, cringing internally. She had a sinking feeling about where this was going. “Yeah… I’ve heard of them,” she said cautiously. “How did that go?”

Y/N chuckled nervously, clearly still a bit taken aback by the encounter. “Well, it was strange, to be honest. They ordered their drinks, then asked me to sit down with them. Next thing I know, they’re asking me all these personal questions—like, about my job, childhood, habits, that kind of stuff. At first, I thought it was just friendly conversation, but then it got kind of... intense. Melissa especially.”

Jenna cringed visibly this time, putting her drink down. “Intense? How?”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, exhaling. “It felt like an interrogation. Melissa gave me this look, like she was trying to read into my soul or something. She even asked if I ever take advantage of kind people or play with people’s emotions.”

Jenna winced, looking away for a moment. “Oh no…”

“Yeah,” Y/N continued, unaware of Jenna’s reaction. 

Y/N gave her a small smile, running a hand through her hair nervously. “I told them, girls have taken advantage of my kindness and money before.”

Jenna cringed at the thought, feeling an immediate wave of warmth—and discomfort—wash over her. There it is again—that gentle pull toward Y/N, something that seemed to grow stronger every time they were together. She tried to fight off the blush creeping into her cheeks but couldn't help the way her chest tightened, the mixture of admiration and protectiveness swelling up inside her.

Y/N wasn’t like anyone Jenna had ever known. Hollywood was full of people with ambition, many of them willing to do anything to get ahead. But Y/N was different. There was an openness to her that Jenna found disarming. It wasn’t about impressing anyone or hiding behind layers of pretense. Y/N was raw, sincere, and completely herself.

There’s something about her, Jenna thought, her gaze softening as she listened to Y/N speak. It wasn’t just that Y/N could make her laugh or the way their conversations felt so natural, but it was how grounded she was, how she carried this quiet strength beneath her calm demeanor. Jenna could see the pain in Y/N’s eyes as she talked about her past, as she confessed how others had taken advantage of her kindness. The vulnerability there tugged at Jenna’s heart.

I like her, Jenna admitted silently, a flutter in her stomach as the realization settled in.But love? That was a word that carried too much weight. It was something Jenna wasn’t quite ready for, not yet. The mere thought of it made her chest tighten, though not in a bad way. There was something deep between them, that much was undeniable. But love was... complicated.

Still, Y/N had a quality Jenna couldn’t ignore. She admired how honest Y/N was, how even in the face of discomfort—like being subtly tested by her friends—she remained sincere and kind. There was no façade, no mask. She’s real, Jenna thought. And in a world that often felt shallow and transactional, that authenticity was like a breath of fresh air.

She realized that maybe it wasn’t love just yet, but it was definitely something close. Something worth holding onto.Whatever it was between them, it was worth exploring—slowly, carefully. Jenna would let it unfold at its own pace, savoring every moment and not rushing anything. After all, the best things in life often took time.

For now, she’d enjoy every second with Y/N. She shot her a warm smile, trying to shake off the lingering nervousness from the earlier conversation. “Well, they liked you, Y/N,” Jenna said, her voice softening as she looked at her. “They just have their ways of making sure the people I care about are good people.”

Y/N blinked, clearly still processing everything that had happened. “I guess that makes sense.” She smiled back, clearly relieved the conversation had taken a lighter turn. “I’m glad I passed.”

Jenna chuckled, feeling her heart swell again. You passed with flying colors, she thought, though she didn’t say it aloud. Instead, she reached out, giving Y/N a gentle squeeze on the arm before standing up.

"Come on, let's grab a bite before I end up spilling any more of my secrets," Jenna teased, trying to push aside the intensity of her own thoughts.

Jenn Ortega x Reader

Summary: Y/N's morning is stirred when Jenna arrives before opening hours. She finds herself sipping coffee and sharing stories with the star again. Between bodyguards, family, and an unexpected promise, Y/N's day becomes more than just her regular routine—a start to a little more, one sip at a time.

Word Count: 2.9k

As I unlocked the door and stepped inside, the familiar smell of Chinese takeout filled the air. The sounds of laughter and clatter of utensils echoed from the kitchen. Kicking off my shoes and slipping into my slippers, I sighed in relief. Home. Before I could take another step, Mr. Noodles—my black-and-white tuxedo cat, complete with his signature black bowtie—greeted me by weaving between my legs, purring loudly. "Hey, Noodles," I chuckled, bending down to scratch his chin. He meowed once, flicking his tail, and followed me into the kitchen. Marcus and Caleb sat at the table, surrounded by various takeout containers. Marcus dug into his lo mein while Caleb balanced his fork in one hand and scrolled through his phone with the other. "Look who finally decided to grace us with their presence!" Marcus called out, waving his fork in the air dramatically. "Yeah, too high on your horse to join your big brothers for dinner? Caleb chimed in without even glancing up from his phone. I rolled my eyes and dropped my bag onto the floor, giving Mr. Noodles a final pat before sitting down at the table. "Whatever you say, peasants, you wouldn't believe the day I had." Marcus raised an eyebrow, grinning. "What happened? Did Tom Cruise stop by to argue with his reflection again?" Caleb snicker. "Or did Chris Hemsworth come in to try and order his post-workout protein shake?" 'Ok. So maybe I don't only keep celebrity conversations with just Wilma.' "No, I still don't know what kind of gym rat demands a coffee shop to make a protein shake," I said, grabbing some fried rice. "But actually, it was Meryl Streep. She and her manager walked in, supposedly for a meeting. And they broke into a feud over whether or not she should be having hot chocolate and a donut." Both of them looked at each other, chuckling. Marcus leaned back in his chair to scratch Mr. Noodles under him. "Meryl Streep, defending her sugar right? You go, girl!" I grinned, stuffing a dumpling in my mouth. "Yeah, his face when she chewed him out was priceless." Caleb's full attention is on me now. "What about Will Ferrell? Did he drop by and give any hints about his upcoming movie?" I shook my head. "No Will Ferrell today. But Liam Neeson came in, ordered tea and a jelly donut, and then tripped on his way out. Spilled tea all over the place." Marcus and Caleb both froze mid-bite before bursting into laughter. Marcus set his fork down, "Let me guess, he threatened the floor after that one, right?" Caleb swallowed his food, "I can just imagine him giving his famous death stare. What did you do?" "I gave him another one, free of charge," I shrugged. "The man looked so heartbroken. I couldn't let him walk out like that." They laughed again, shaking their heads in disbelief. Marcus wiped his mouth, "Man, only in your line of work do we find out Meryl Streep and Liam Neeson are out here having bad days like the rest of us."

We kept eating, trading stories about our day. Marcus talked about a guy at the gym who almost dropped a barbell trying to impress some girl. At the same time, Caleb vented about the latest office drama. While leaning over to offer the piece of chicken on my fork to Mr.Noodles, without even thinking, I casually mentioned, "Oh yeah, Jenna Ortega came in today." Marcus froze, his fork nearly dropping, while Caleb slowly lowered his phone. Both of them stared at me in studded silence. "Wait...what?" Caleb asked, voice rising. "The Jenna Ortega?" It took me a second to realize what I had just said, and I immediately felt my face heat up. Damn. "Uhh...yeah. She was just, you know, having coffee." Marcus leaned over the table, grin growing wider. "Are you seriously telling me you met Jenna Ortega and didn't freak out? Come on, you've been obsessed since she made it big on Wednesday." "I wasn't obsessed!" I protested, feeling my cheeks grow even hotter. "And it wasn't a big deal. She's just a regular person." Caleb raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Did you...like talk to her?" I groaned, running a hand through my hair and throwing my head back. "Yeah, we talked a little. She was reading a book I loved, so we ended up geeking out about the author. She already read it, too, just revisiting it." Marcus' grin grew, looking smug. "You geeked out about a book...with her? And you're sitting here acting like it's no big deal?" I shrugged, trying to play it cool. "She's just another customer like anyone else, guys," Caleb smirked. "Uh-huh, sure. Except you're blushing right now." I could feel the heat creeping back into my face. "Am not." Marcus chuckled, shaking his head. "Our lil sis rubbing elbows with big stars. Be careful if she wants to meet us, we're totally gonna embarrass you." I groaned, covering my face. "Shut Up, Please!"

After dinner, I headed upstairs. Changing into a pair of comfy sweats and a loose T-shirt. Noodles, ever my loyal shadow, hopped onto the bed and curled into a little ball beside me as soon as I laid down. He purred, vibrating through the blankets. I grabbed my phone and, doomed scrolled through Instagram and TikTok. But no matter what I did, my mind drifted back to Jenna. The way she was there—from anxious to completely calm in the café. It was hard to match that with the version of her I'd seen on the screen. And the fact that we actually talked? That was still sinking in. Then there was the blush. That small, subtle blush when she realized she was the last one left in the café caught me off guard. Jenna Ortega, the same Jenna who played the confident, intense character on screen, blushing because she'd lost track of time in a quiet little coffee shop? It made her seem so much more...cute. I immediately slapped my face. 'No, no, not what I meant. I meant human.'" When I looked over, Noodles' eyes were wide, and his tail flickering. I must have startled him with that slap. After a moment of us watching each other, Clearly unimpressed, he huffed and circled a few times, kneading the blankets before settling back down. "Sorry Noodles...What do you think? I murmured, my fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes behind his ears. "Do you think I made a fool of myself?" He responded with a soft purr, utterly unbothered by my internal crisis. I tossed my phone onto the nightstand, my mind replaying every detail of the evening: the way Jenna smiled when I brought her the donut, her casual posture as we talked about horror novels, and, of course, the way she blushed. It was as if, for a moment, she wasn't Jenna Ortega, the actress. She was just...Jenna. A regular person who got lost in a book, just like me. I sighed, rolled onto my back, and stared at the ceiling. "I'll probably never see her again, right?" I muttered to myself. Noodles meowed softly in response, unbothered by my troubles. But a small part of me couldn't help but hope that maybe she'd come back. Noodles stretched, yawned, and moved closer, curling up beside me. I smiled at his contentment, but my mind was still swirling with thoughts. I couldn't help but wonder if this was it or if I'd get the chance to talk to her again. Maybe she'd come back. With her lingering in my mind, I eventually drifted off to sleep, contemplating the unexpected conversation that had turned my usual day at work into something unforgettable.

The next morning came far too quickly. My alarm blared, and I groaned, rolling over to smack the snooze button. Mr Noodles, the early riser, pounced on my chest and meowed directly in my face until I finally gave in. "Alright, I'm up," I muttered, pushing him off and dragging myself out of bed. After a quick shower, I threw on some clothes and grabbed my bag, ready to head back to The Daily Grind. As I patted Mr. Noodle's head one more time before slipping out the door. I headed out the door, keys in hand, and my phone buzzed as I locked up. I answered. "Hey, Y/N! You're going to have to open up today," she said, practically out of breath like she was jogging. "The twins are dragging their feet and won't put their shoes on! She yelled that last part as I pulled out of my parking spot. "Mama couldn't take them, so I got stuck on babysitter duty again. I'll be in later." I chuckled, imagining the chaos on her end. "No worries, Captain, I can hold down the fort until you come." "Thanks! Oh, and by the way..." Wilma's tone shifted to something more playful. "How did things go with Primera last night?" I paused for a moment, feeling my face heat up. Of course, Wilma was going to ask. I couldn't avoid it, but...did I really have to tell her everything? I could already picture the girl tackling me if she had to find out on her own fruition. "Y/N? You still there?" Wilma prompted, clearly sensing my hesitation. I sighed, knowing there was no way out. "It was fine. We just talked a bit more," I started, trying to keep my voice casual. "Mhm, sure," Wilma replied, egging me on. "And?" I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth creep up my neck. "Jenna...actually walked me to my car," I admitted, my voice quieter now. "And then she teased me, said I had somehow 'charmed' her like it was the most obvious thing in the world. She flashed that smile—half playful, half serious—like she knew she was messing with me. Honestly, it was impossible not to blush." "Wait, hold up, She walked you to your car?" Wilma interrupted, her voice dripping with amusement. I could practically see her grinning on the other side of the phone. "And what smile? You've already memorized her smile, huh?" I groaned, blushing. "It wasn't like that, Wilma. She was just being...friendly." Wilma laughed. "Friendly? Please. You're a natural-born flirt, and you don't even realize it. And with "that" smile? She was totally into i—" "I wasn't flirting!" I protested; the thought of Jenna's smirk made me doubt my words. "She was just messing with me." "Oh sure, because it's so easy to charm someone with those smooth barista skills," Wilma teased. "You better brace yourself when she comes back. You're in trouble, Y/N." "Yeah," I admitted, resting my head on the steering wheel. "And then her bodyguards showed up out of nowhere and scared the life out of me." Wilma's laughter echoed through the phone. "Bodyguards? Of course. This keeps getting better by the second! What else? I know there's more." I sighed, already resigned to the teasing. "She made me promise that the next time she comes by, I'd share some of the stories about some bodyguards at the café." There was a beat of silence, and then, as expected, her laughter doubled. "Y/N, you've got her hooked! Wild café stories? She's definitely coming back now. Congrats—you've got yourself a celebrity lover. You're basically famous." "Wilma, seriously," I groaned. "Please don't blow this out of proportion." "Oh, honey, it's already out of proportion," her voice full of playful mischief. "You've charmed Jenna Ortega, and now she's coming back for more. I can already see it—this is how it all starts." I rolled my eyes, fully aware of how this conversation would go. "You're impossible." Wilma snickered. "Well, look at you—handling business like a pro. Don't let the fame go to your head, mascot. Remember to stay humble when you're hanging out with Hollywood Royalty." "Yeah, yeah," I muttered, though I couldn't suppress the small laugh. "I'll try not to let it change me."

"Alright, gotta get these monsters buckled and shipped off to school. Don't have too much fun without me!" "Sure, I'll try not to, and hopefully, I'll survive the first horde," I said, grinning as I hung up the phone. As I pocketed my phone, I shook my head, a smile lingering on my lips. I was starting to get used to the teasing. I grabbed my bag and headed inside. The sun crept up, casting soft light through the windows as I unlocked the door. Stepping inside, I could still feel the leftover warmth from yesterday. The café was quiet and still, just how I liked it before the rush. I went to the back, checked in, and threw my stuff into my locker before heading to the employee area. I slipped into my all-black barista uniform—simple black pants and a fitted black shirt before getting my apron from the hook by the door. The apron was the only pop of color, a warm brown that stood out against the dark. As I tied it around my waist, I fell into work mode. First things first: the plants. I grabbed the watering can we kept under the counter, filled it up halfway, and made my way around, giving each hanging plant a good drink. The soft trickle of water and the rustle of leaves was strangely calming, making the café feel like it was waking up, too. I always made sure to take extra care of the plants; Wilma was obsessed with them. Her grandmother had a green thumb, and she followed suit. So she'd notice if even one leaf looked droopy. Next up, I headed to the kitchen to bake the day's pastries. The scent of flour and sugar greeted me as I pulled out the ingredients. I started with the croissants, carefully rolling the dough before placing them on the baking tray.

While they baked, I started on the rest of today's menu items. If a customer wanted anything else, we'd bake it fresh for them. Next, the muffins were mixed with batter and folded in fresh blueberries. The lemon scones were last—I zested the lemons, mixed the dough, and shaped them perfectly before sliding them into the oven. As they finished in the oven, the warm, sweet smells began to fill the café, and I could already imagine the regulars lining up for their favorites. Once they were done, I arranged the croissants, muffins, and scones, which were still hot, and I knew they'd be the first to go as soon as we opened the doors. I also double-checked the coffee machines, making sure they were clean and ready to brew all day long. Once the plants were watered and pastries set, I headed to the front window to hang up a new poster advertising an upcoming poetry night we were hosting. Wilma printed and designed it with bold artistic letters and a little sketch of a coffee cup next to it. I used a bit of tape to secure the edges, securing it to the front window and centered for everyone to see. As I finished up, I wiped down the tables and chairs, making sure everything was spotless. The last thing I needed was someone complaining about a sticky spot on a table or chair. I rearranged the cushions, giving the booths that extra welcoming touch. Everything was in place by the time I was done, and The Daily Grind was ready to go. The café had this lived-in feel that always made me smile. It was the kind of space that felt like a warm hug—for anyone who needed it. I poured the fresh streaming brew into a mug, fixing it up just how I liked it, feeling the warmth spreading through my hands. As I leaned against the counter, taking that first comforting sip, a familiar figure appeared outside, her bodyguards in tow. I wasn't even officially open yet, but when Jenna Ortega knocks, who am I to not answer? I walked over to unlock the door, letting her and the guards in. Jenna wasn't in her usual hoodie this time. Today, she wore a stylish see-through white tee paired with a pair of plaid pants with high heels. Looking casual but chic. "You look nice," I said, feeling the comment slip out naturally. Jenna smiled warmly. "Thanks. She added, "I have an early interview for an upcoming film...and then some other boring meetings," her tone was slightly sarcastic. I gave her a teasing look. "Boring? Sounds like you've got a rough life," I joked, rolling my eyes playfully. Jenna chuckles lightly, brushing her hair out of her face. "Yeah, it's tough being me," she shot back. I shrugged, "Well, technically, we're not open yet, but I've already got everything set up, so if you want, I can get you and your crew settled in." Jenna exchanged a quick look with her bodyguards, who nodded back at her. "Thanks, that would be great." I turned to the guards, who had positioned themselves quietly near the entrance. "So, what can I get you guys?" The taller two, who had a more serious demeanor, spoke first. "I'll take a hot coffee. Black, with two pumps of vanilla and a dash of cinnamon." The second guard, who seemed more talkative, said with a small smile, "Tea, please. With milk and one sugar. I'm more of a tea guy myself." I nodded and then looked back at Jenna, expecting her to give her order, but I beat her. "Iced coffee with caramel and whipped cream, right?" Jenna raised an eyebrow, "Not bad. I guess I'm predictable." Jenna leaned her back on the counter as I got to work preparing the drinks, glancing toward the front. "What's that about?" she asked, pointing to the poster I hung earlier. "Oh, that? We run an event for people to come to enjoy poetry or music with their coffee. It's pretty laid-back. Kind of a 'grab the mic if you feel like it' vibe." Jenna nodded, looking at it. "Noted," was all she said softly. "Here's your drinks," I called. Each drink lined up. I handed the bodyguards their drinks, and they settled into the bar area by the cash register while Jenna and I sat at one of the tables, far enough away to talk privately.

"Sorry to inconvenience you again." Jenna replied, smiling briefly before glancing out the window, her fingers tracing the rim of her drink, a little distracted. "You look like you're lost," I teased. "Something on your mind?" Jenna blinked, snapping out of her thoughts and giving me a small smile." Just thinking about the day ahead. Meetings, interviews...nothing too exciting." She glanced at me, smile falling slightly. "But I guess everyone has their own version of busy, right?" I nodded. "Yeah, but at least your 'busy' involves making movies. Not a bad gig." Jenna chuckled softly, "True, but you'd be surprised how much of it is just waiting around, talking about things you've already said a thousand times. It's not all glamorous." I tilted my head slightly, "I can imagine. It's like running a coffee shop. People think it's just pouring drinks and chatting with customers, but there is a lot of behind-the-scenes stuff no one sees." She looked up around me, a spark of intrigue in her eyes. "Yeah? Like what?" I shrugged. "You know, making sure machines are maintained, cleaned, and functional, keeping the inventory stocked, baking pastries fresh every day, And don't even get me started with dealing with the occasional difficult customer, celebrity or not." She laughed, her smile returning tenfold. "I guess we both deal with our fair share of drama, huh?" I grinned, nodding. "Exactly. but hey, at least you get to wear cool outfits. All I get is this apron." She glanced at my apron. "Well...it suits you. And besides, I'm sure you could pull off one or two if you tried." My blush crept up, but I sipped from my cup to cover it. Jenna gave me a playful smile, taking a sip of her own. "So," Jenna began, "Where's Wilma this morning? I feel like I'm missing the other half of this Daily Grind dynamic duo." "She had to drop off her siblings at school," I explained, getting comfortable. "We've been best friends since preschool. Never really been apart, even traveled across the country to open this place together." Jenna's curiosity grew. "That's amazing. No wonder you guys make a great team; you're like a hive mind." I nodded, laughing at the thought. "As terrifying as that is, we do make a great team. Wilma's practically family. We've seen each other through school and jobs. It's been an adventure." Jenna's gaze softened as she asked, "And your real family? Are they around?" I shifted slightly, setting my drink down. "My older brothers, Marcus and Caleb, live here in California with me. We share an apartment together. But the rest of my family, my parents and younger sister, are back in New York." Her eyes lit up. "Wait, you've got a younger sister too? Same here—she can be such a pain, always finding ways to bug me, but that's little sisters for, right?" Jenna chuckled softly, a mix of affection and exaggeration in her voice. "She keeps me on my toes." I chuckled, adding, "Tell me about it. Sometimes, it's a lot of deciding whether to ship her off or not, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. And then, of course, there's Mr. Noodles." Jenna's brow furrowed in confusion, gnawing at her straw. "Mr. Noodles?" I smiled, nodding. My tuxedo cat. He's the real boss of the house." Jenna gasped loudly, startling her guards. "I need to see pictures. Now." I pulled out my phone, scrolling through the dozens of photos I had of Mr. Noodles, and handed it over. Jenna's face lit up with a huge smile as she swiped through the photos. "He's adorable! Look at this gentleman; his tie is too cute! How can you ever leave him to go to work?" I shrugged, shaking my head. "It's tough, but he's got work too. He's a professional napper around the clock, so he manages without me." Jenna handed the phone back, shaking her head in return. But my brain froze; her fingers brushed against mine for a brief moment. It quite literally—shocked me. "Thanks," she said, her hand lingering just a second longer than I expected before she pulled away. "No problem," I replied, trying to calm my racing heart.

Jenna Ortega x Reader

Summary: A week after poetry night, Jenna and Y/N grow closer, leading to a movie night. After a bit of trouble at the theater and a quiet late-night diner, Y/N is left wondering if there's more to their connection than just friendship.

Word Count: 889

The following week at The Daily Grind, I was caught up in my usual routine when Jenna strolled in, her presence immediately drawing my attention. She smiled warmly, and I tried to play it cool, returning her smile with only a slight flush creeping into my cheeks.

"Slick, got a minute to talk?" Jenna asked, casually leaning against the counter with an easy smile.

She glanced at the menu momentarily, then looked up at me with a mischievous glint. "You know what? I think I'll switch it up today. How's that caramel macchiato? Any good?"

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Going off script, huh? Yeah, it's a solid choice, one of my favorites, actually."

Jenna grinned. "Then I'll take your word for it. Caramel macchiato, please."

As I made her drink, I couldn't help but tease, "Didn't take you for the adventurous type when it comes to coffee."

She shrugged, leaning against the counter. "Hey, you gotta keep life interesting, right? Plus, you make it sound like it's worth the risk."

I chuckled as I finished up, handing her the cup. "No pressure, but I might judge you based on whether you like it."

Jenna took a sip, her eyes lighting up immediately. "Okay, not bad, Slick. You might just know what you're talking about."

I smirked. "Told you. My recommendations are gold."

She laughed, and before I knew it, we found ourselves in a quiet corner of the café, conversation flowing as easily as ever.

"Read anything good lately?" Jenna asked, her fingers lightly tracing the edge of her cup.

I grinned, glad she asked. "Yeah, actually. I just finished House of Leaves. Have you read it?"

Jenna's eyes widened, her interest clearly piqued. "House of Leaves? Oh man, that book is a trip. It's one of those stories that just... stick with you. What did you think?"

I leaned forward a little, warming to the topic. "It's honestly one of the most unsettling things I've ever read. The house keeps shifting like it's alive, and the endless hallways that shouldn't exist... It's like a labyrinth that traps your mind as much as the characters."

Jenna nodded eagerly, her voice dropping slightly. "And the way it's written, with all the different footnotes and stories within stories... it feels like you're falling down the rabbit hole along with the characters."

"Exactly!" I said, feeling the excitement rise in my chest. "It's not just the story; it's how the book is physically laid out. The text starts spiraling or shrinking, and you feel claustrophobic like the walls are closing in on you."

Jenna smiled, clearly impressed. "It plays with your sense of reality. You're constantly questioning what's real and what's not. It's like the book becomes this haunted object you're holding."

I chuckled. "Yeah, I had to put it down a couple times just to clear my head. It really messes with you in a way no other book does."

Jenna's gaze was thoughtful as she sipped her drink. "I think the scariest part is that the horror isn't always in your face. It's subtle, creeping in through the cracks. That whole idea of a house being bigger on the inside than the outside? That freaked me out more than any monster ever could."

I nodded. "Right? It's the idea that something's not quite right, but you can't put your finger on it. That lingering sense of unease stays with you, even after you've finished reading."

Jenna leaned back in her chair, a smile playing on her lips. "You know, not a lot of people appreciate horror like that. It's all about tension and atmosphere, not just the jump scares."

I laughed softly. "Yeah, it's rare to find someone who gets that."

She tilted her head slightly. "Guess we're both a little obsessed with that eerie, psychological side of things, huh?"

"Looks like it," I replied, smiling. "We've got good taste."

Jenna smiled and nodded, taking another sip of her coffee.

"You know, speaking of that kind of slow-building tension, there's this movie I've been meaning to check out. The Hollow Reflection is coming out soon—it's kind of a psychological thriller. I've been dying to see it," I said, absentmindedly stirring my drink.

Jenna raised an eyebrow, leaning forward a little. "The Hollow Reflection, huh? What's it about?"

I shrugged, trying to remember the trailer I'd seen. "It's one of those films where you can't tell if the main character is losing their mind or if there's really something haunting them. A lot of creeping dread, weird symbolism, and by the end, you're just as confused and terrified as the characters."

Jenna's eyes lit up. "That sounds like my kind of movie. I love films that mess with your head like that. Maybe I'll tag along if you're going."

I blinked, caught off guard by her suggestion. "Wait, are you serious?"

She smirked, setting her cup down on the table. "Yeah, I've been meaning to see other actors' acting methods in horror movies. Seems like the perfect excuse."

I hesitated, still trying to wrap my head around that Jenna wanted to hang out with me outside the café. "Are you sure? I mean, wouldn't it be weird for you to go with—"

Jenna cut me off with a laugh, shaking her head. "Y/N, relax. I'm just a person who likes horror movies, too. Besides, it could be fun."

I nodded slowly, a grin tugging at my lips. "Yeah, okay. That actually sounds like a lot of fun."

We sat there for a moment, the weight of the conversation hanging in the air. It wasn't a date. It was just a casual hangout. Although there were implications, that this could be something more made my stomach flip.

Jenna stood to leave as she grabbed her bag from the back of her chair. She gave me a playful wave. "See you soon, Slick. And don't forget about that movie."

I watched her walk out of the café, feeling a strange mix of excitement and nerves swirling inside me. There was something in the air—something new. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but I knew one thing: I was looking forward to that movie night.

A few days passed, and the anticipation of movie night made me jittery. Whenever I thought about it, I had to shake the thought from my head to stay focused. It wasn't just the movie—I couldn't stop replaying our conversation in the café, Jenna's smile, her playful teasing. There was something... different about it.

On the night of the movie, I was already at the theater, standing in front of the giant neon sign that flickered "Now Showing. The Hollow Reflection." My hands were stuffed in my hoodie pockets as I shifted on my feet, nerves buzzing like live wires under my skin.

I rechecked my phone, my thumb hovering over the screen. It was just a movie. Not a big deal. Not a date. But then again…

"Hey, Slick."

Her voice cut through my anxious thoughts, and I spun around, spotting Jenna walking toward me. She looked effortlessly cool in a leather jacket and ripped jeans.

I smiled, feeling some of the tension drain from my body. "Woah! You're on time. Impressive."I smirked, lightly elbowing her arm.

She rolled her eyes, smirking as she came to stand beside me. "I'm punctual when I wanna be. Ready for some mind-bending horror?"

"Born ready," I replied, my voice coming out steadier than I felt inside.

Luckily, this theater was unpopular, so few people were there. We made our way into the theater, grabbed our tickets, grabbed some snacks, and found our seats toward the back, right in the middle of the row. The theater was dimly lit, the smell of popcorn filling the air. The excitement from the other moviegoers hummed softly around us. I couldn't shake the feeling that this night was more significant than it seemed.

As the trailers played, I found myself glancing at Jenna from the corner of my eye. She was focused on the screen, but there was this subtle energy between us as if we knew something had hung in the air.

Then the movie started.

The slow-building dread and tense atmosphere immediately set the tone. The psychological twists began creeping in early, and before I knew it, I was fully immersed in the story. Jenna leaned forward, completely engrossed. Occasionally, she'd make a small comment under her breath or give me a quick glance when a particularly creepy moment happened. I couldn't help but grin.

About halfway through, the movie hit a particularly intense scene—the main character was trapped in an abandoned building, the lights flickering ominously. The tension was almost unbearable, and I could feel Jenna tense beside me. I could hear her breath hitch as something moved in the shadows on the screen, the sound design making it even creepier.

The cool night air wrapped around us as Jenna and I stepped out of the theater. It should have been a peaceful moment, but I noticed a group of three guys hanging near the concession stand, their eyes lingering a little too long on Jenna.

One of them, a guy in a worn leather jacket, smirked as we passed. "Hey, isn't that Jenna Ortega?" he said to his buddies. He took a few steps forward, grinning at her. "You should come hang out with us."

Jenna gave a polite smile, clearly used to this kind of attention, "Hey, Thank you for the offer, but I'm exhausted, and I need to get home to get some rest." she continued walking. I could sense the shift in her posture, though—she was uncomfortable. I stuck closer to her side, hoping the guy would take the hint.

But, of course, he didn't. "Come on, don't be like that!" he called after us, voice rising as he moved closer. "We're just trying to be friendly."

Jenna's smile faded, and I could feel her tensing up beside me. The other two guys chuckled behind him, watching the whole scene like it was a show.

That's when I stepped between Jenna and the guy, blocking his path. "She's not interested," I said firmly. "Leave her alone."

Surprised for a second, the guy stopped before his expression turned sour. "What's your problem?" he snapped, glaring down at me. "We're just talking to her."

"No," I said, standing my ground. "You're bothering her. Back off."

Before things could escalate, one of the theater staff came over, noticing the commotion. "Hey, is there a problem here?" he asked, his voice calm but authoritative.

The leather Jacket guy sneered but didn't say anything. The theater employee stepped forward, pulling out his phone. "If you don't leave now, I'll call the police."

The guy looked like he wanted to say something, but after a tense moment, he scoffed and turned to his friends. "Whatever, man. Let's get out of here."

As the three of them walked off, grumbling, the employee nodded at me. "You two okay?"

I nodded, feeling the adrenaline still rushing through me. "Yeah, we're fine. Thanks for stepping in."

Jenna touched my arm gently, her voice soft. "You didn't have to do that."

I turned to her, my heart still racing. "Yeah, I did. I'm not going to let anyone treat you like that."

Jenna smiled, a warmth in her eyes. "Thanks, Y/N. I mean it."

As we exited the theater, I noticed two familiar figures waiting by the exit—Jenna's bodyguards. They straightened up when they saw us approach.

"Hey, Jenna," Greg, the shorter and more talkative one, greeted her with a nod. "Everything okay?"

Jenna smiled at them. "Yeah, all good. We had a great time until some jerks bothered us on the way out, but Y/N stepped in."

Will, the taller and more serious one, frowned slightly, his gaze flicking between Jenna and me. "What happened?"

I was about to brush it off, but Jenna jumped in. "Some guys trying to hit on me. Y/N got in between the leader following me and the theater staff taking care of the rest."

Greg grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Slick here playing the hero, huh? Nice work."

I felt my ears heat up, trying to laugh it off. 'Aw man, even her guards are catching on,' I thought.

Jenna smiled and turned to me, clearly amused by the whole situation. "I told Will and Greg to stay outside tonight. I wanted a normal night out. But I guess I could've at least let Will trail us."

Will's brow furrowed, looking mildly frustrated. "Next time, just send us a text or call if something like this happens again."

Jenna shrugged. "Agreed. But no need to worry now; it's in the past, and Y/N had my back."

Greg gave me a friendly pat on the shoulder. "Thanks for the Backup, Y/N; we appreciate it."

I shrugged, trying to downplay it. "It's the sensible thing to do. I don't tolerate bullies or jerks of any caliber."

Will's expression softened slightly, and he gave me a nod. "Good to know. Thanks for stepping in."

As we walked toward the street, Jenna turned to me, her eyes bright with excitement. "Hey, do you want to grab a quick bite? There's this diner I love that is not too far from here. It's called "The Velvet Spoon."

I blinked, a bit surprised by the suggestion. "Uh, yeah, sure. I didn't realize you were still hungry."

She laughed, "Well, the popcorn didn't exactly fill me up. Plus, you've gotta check out this spot. Best secret diner in L.A."

"Secret, huh? I could go for a bite. I'll just catch the bus—"

Jenna cut me off, shaking her head. "You're not taking the bus. I've got my car. I'll give you a ride."

I paused for a moment. "I don't live far, and honestly, I didn't want to lose my parking spot at my apartment. Parking's a nightmare over there."

Jenna smiled knowingly. "I get it. City parking is its own level of hell. But don't worry, I'll drop you off later. You just have to see this place. It's worth it."

I didn't argue further. I wouldn't turn down a ride in Jenna Ortega's car. I followed her toward the parking lot; her sleek black car awaited us. The guards, Will and Greg, were already by the vehicle, giving us space but keeping an eye out. I climbed into the passenger seat, the car's leather interior far fancier than anything I was used to.

Jenna started the engine, the car purring to life as we pulled out of the lot. She shot me a quick smile. "So, have you at least heard of the name anywhere on the internet?"

"Nope, I don't think I've ever heard a place like that before."

"Good. People are doing well keeping the secret, then." Jenna explained. "It's got this super diverse menu, something for everyone. Breakfast all day, burgers, vegan stuff—whatever you're in the mood for."

"Sounds like heaven," I said, already imagining the food. "How'd you find it?"

"I used to come here all the time when I was younger, especially after shoots. The staff is super friendly, and the vibe is chill, despite who you might see there."

I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Who might I see?"

She grinned but didn't give any more details, leaving me hanging. We made small talk during the drive—about the movie, the rude guys from earlier, and Jenna's favorite spots in the city. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself laughing and chatting easily with her.

Before long, we pulled up to the diner. The neon sign flickered above, casting a warm glow over the front of the building. It looked like a fancy, retro-style joint from the outside, where you might expect to see velvet ropes and a waiting list.

"Wow," I said, glancing up at the sign. "This place looks… fancy. Am I underdressed?"

Jenna laughed, waving off my concern. "Don't worry. It just looks fancy on the outside. Inside, it's got this old-school, 60s diner vibe. You'll love it."

I stepped out of the car, Will and Greg already holding the door open. Jenna thanked them with a nod, and they hung back by the entrance as we walked inside. As soon as we stepped through the door, I was hit by the warm, nostalgic feeling of an old-timey diner. The red leather booths, checkered floors, and neon signs on the walls made the place look like it had stayed the same since the 60s. It was like stepping into a time capsule.

"Whoa," I whispered to myself. "This place is seriously retro."

Jenna smiled, clearly amused by my reaction. "Told you it's got charm."

As we walked toward our booth, my eyes darted around the room. Then, it hit me. The people sitting at the booths weren't just regular diners. They were celebrities—faces I recognized immediately. A-listers. My jaw almost dropped when I spotted actors like Zendaya, Timothée Chalamet, and even Florence Pugh casually eating at tables like this. It must have been their regular hangout spot.

I leaned over to Jenna, whispering, "Um, are those…?"

Jenna smirked. "Yep. Welcome to Hollywood's secret diner."

I tried to play it cool, but inside, I was freaking out. I was used to being around celebrities, but not all at once! Seeing all these big shot stars in this diner made me envious, 'I wish they were in The Daily Grind in these sorts of numbers.' The fact that Jenna was also one of them suddenly felt surreal.

We slid into a booth, and I tried to focus on the menu. Jenna laughed softly at my reaction but didn't make a big deal out of it, which I appreciated. Instead, we dove into a conversation. Jenna grinned as she flipped open the menu, her eyes lighting up as she pointed to a section near the top. "Okay, first things first—you have to try the pancakes here. They're ridiculously fluffy. I swear, they could probably double as pillows."

I chuckled, glancing at the menu. "Pancakes? At night? What a rebel, Ms. Ortega."

"Trust me," Jenna said, nodding enthusiastically. "This place has breakfast all day, and the pancakes are like a secret weapon. I always get them with their maple butter syrup. It's life-changing."

I skimmed over the menu, intrigued. "Maple butter syrup, huh? That sounds… dangerous."

"It is, but in the best way," she replied, leaning back in her seat. "They also have this burger that's a mix between a classic diner burger and something you'd get at a gourmet spot. It's called the 'Hollywood Hustler,' and it's got this bacon jam that I could eat by the spoonful."

I laughed, shaking my head. "Okay, gourmet pancakes and burgers. This place already sounds like it's on another level."

Jenna flipped to another menu page and pointed to a dessert section. "But honestly, if you're still hungry after that, the milkshakes are killer. They've got these over-the-top flavors, like peanut butter and strawberry cheesecake. And everything here is just… comforting. It's why I love this place."

I raised an eyebrow, glancing around the diner. "It definitely has that vibe, like one of those hidden gems you wouldn't expect."

Jenna nodded, a soft smile on her face. "Yeah, it's been around forever. It started as this little hole-in-the-wall joint in the 60s, just serving basic diner food. But over the years, it became a hotspot for actors and musicians who wanted a spot to hang out."

I looked around at the nostalgic décor, the retro booths, and the neon lights. "Makes sense. It feels like a time capsule."

"It really is," Jenna agreed. "They've kept the same décor since day one. I like it because it's not pretentious or flashy—it's just good food, good vibes, and no pressure. Even though some of the biggest names in Hollywood come through here, it still feels like a little secret hideaway."

I scanned the menu again, impressed by the variety. "Okay, I think I'm sold. But the real question is, do I go for pancakes or that burger?"

Jenna smirked, leaning in as if sharing a secret. "Why not both? Pancakes for the soul, burger for the stomach."

I laughed, feeling entirely at ease in the moment. "I think I like the way you think."

Jenna's eyes sparkled. "It's all about balance, Slick. You'll thank me later."

As Jenna continued to enthusiastically point out more items on the menu—everything from her favorite fries with truffle aioli to a buttermilk chicken sandwich that, according to her, "hits different"—I couldn't help but notice how blissfully happy she seemed. It was like watching a kid in a candy store, her eyes wide with excitement, the soft hum of the diner's retro vibe only amplifying the joy radiating from her. Every time she mentioned a dish, it was as if she were sharing a personal victory, proud and delighted just to be here.

I glanced over the menu, nodding along to what Jenna was saying, but my attention drifted. There was something magnetic about seeing her like this; she was so carefree and genuinely excited. I wasn't sure why, but it caught me off guard in the best way. Her enthusiasm felt contagious, making me want to experience this place through her eyes. She wasn't the famous Jenna Ortega here—she was just Jenna, enjoying a quiet night out, sharing one of her favorite spots with someone she trusted.

The buzz of the diner's ambiance faded into the background for a moment. My thoughts swirled as I watched her, caught up in her energy. It was rare to see someone so genuinely excited about the little things, and I found myself smiling, almost lost in the simplicity of the moment. How could someone who lived in the whirlwind of Hollywood seem so grounded, so at peace in a place like this?

Suddenly, I realized I had zoned out. Jenna's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts.

"Y/N? Earth to Y/N?" She was smiling, her head tilted slightly. "What's up? You spaced out for a second there."

I blinked, sitting up straighter, feeling my cheeks flush. "Oh, sorry. I was just… admiring your childlike enthusiasm about this place."

Jenna raised an eyebrow, her smile softening into something more curious. "Really? I thought you were getting bored with my diner ramblings."

I shook my head, feeling a little shy about being so honest. "No, it's not that at all. It's just that you're so excited about being here. It's kind of refreshing to see. You're like a kid in a candy store, Jenna."

She laughed softly, her eyes brightening even more. "I just love sharing things like this. I guess when you're used to so much… I don't know… noise, finding a place like this is grounding. It reminds me of when things were simpler, you know?"

I nodded, feeling the truth in her words. "Yeah, I get that."

Jenna smiled, reaching for her water glass, and I couldn't help but admire how at ease she seemed. "I'm glad you're here, Y/N. I wanted to share this with you."

Her words hit me in a way I hadn't expected. I felt a warmth in my chest, which made me feel like this might not be just a casual dinner with a friend. There was something more to this moment, something more to Jenna's need to share this part of her world with me.

"Me too," I replied quietly, and for a moment, we just smiled at each other across the table.

The waiter arrived to take our orders, and after some back and forth, I settled on Jenna's recommendation: pancakes with that famous maple butter syrup and a side of truffle fries. Jenna ordered her usual, which was the Hollywood Hustler burger with truffle aloi fries.

Once the waiter left, I leaned back in the booth, stealing another glance at her. She seemed so light, so free, sitting here under the soft diner lights, tapping her fingers against the table to the beat of the music playing in the background.

As the night went on, we fell into our usual easy conversation—laughing, teasing, and sharing stories—but it felt slightly different tonight. Maybe it was the nostalgia of the diner, or maybe it was Jenna's openness, but there was something about this place, this moment, that made everything feel… closer.

As Jenna pulled up in front of my apartment, the soft hum of the car's engine slowly faded. I unbuckled my seatbelt, still buzzing from the diner, from Jenna's energy and how effortlessly the night had unraveled into something unexpectedly perfect.

"Thanks again, Jenna, for tonight. It was… it was nice." I turned to her, meaning every word.

Jenna smiled, reaching over to give me a hug. "Of course, Slick. I needed this as much as you did."

I opened the car door, stepping onto the sidewalk, and just as Jenna was about to say something, she froze, her eyes widening.

"Oh. My. God!"

I whipped my head toward the building, alarmed. "What? What's wrong?"

Jenna pointed toward my apartment window with all the enthusiasm of a fan girl. "It's him!"

I followed her gaze, only to see Mr. Noodles perched on the windowsill, his paw pressed against the glass as he meowed. His tiny mouth moved in exaggerated yowls, clearly demanding attention.

"Mr. Noodles?" I raised an eyebrow, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned.

Jenna, however, had no such hesitation. "It's him, Y/N! Oh my god, I'm obsessed." She practically squealed, already making hand gestures, the usual pspsps sound that usually beckoned any cat.

I burst out laughing, my earlier calm completely thrown off. "You're fangirling… over my cat?"

"He's a star!" Jenna exclaimed, leaning across the seat. "Look at him! He's confidently taking center stage." She turned to me with wide, pleading eyes. "Can I meet him? Please?"

I couldn't help but chuckle, shaking my head in disbelief. "Okay, okay, sure. Come on up, but only if you're comfortable. It's just Mr. Noodles, though, not some celebrity cat."

Jenna grinned. "Please, Y/N. I'd love to meet the gentleman who's stolen my heart tonight."

We both laughed as we walked up to my apartment. I opened the door, and Mr. Noodles wasted no time, strutting over like he owned the place, 'which he did in all fairness,' immediately rubbing up against Jenna's legs.

"Oh my god, he's even cuter in person," Jenna cooed, crouching down to pet him. Mr. Noodles practically melted under her touch, sprawled out on the floor, purring like an engine. "You, sir, are a charmer." Jenna cooed.

An hour passed as we sat on the couch. Jenna had settled in, legs folded, Mr. Noodles curled up against her. I launched into a story about one of the celebrity bodyguards who frequented The Daily Grind. This particular bodyguard worked for a famous actor who was a regular at the café, and he was known for being extremely over-the-top when it came to protecting his client.

"So, this guy is like six feet tall, built like a tank," I started, setting the scene. "One day, a group of tourists sat nearby, trying to get pictures of his client. You could tell they were trying to be sneaky but were about as subtle as a neon sign."

Jenna leaned in, already smiling in anticipation. "Oh no, what happened?"

I chuckled. "Well, the bodyguard noticed, of course, and instead of just asking them to stop, he walks over, grabs a tiny spoon from their clients' cappuccinos, and holds it up to his ear like a phone. Then, in the deepest, most serious voice ever, he goes, 'Yeah, hello, police? I have a Code Flash Photo here. Unauthorized photos in progress.'"

Jenna's eyes widened as she burst into laughter, covering her mouth. "No way! Did they stop?"

"Oh, they panicked," I continued, laughing with her. "The tourists practically threw their phones back into their bags and bolted out of the café. Meanwhile, the actor didn't even notice anything was happening."

Jenna shook her head, grinning. "That's too funny!" I need to hire that guy just for the entertainment."

Before we could dive into another story, though, a loud voice interrupted the moment.

"Ken! You won't believe what kind of party we were just at!"

I froze, immediately recognizing the familiar voices of my brothers. Marcus and Caleb ran into the living room, out of breath from running.

"Please tell me it wasn't another one of Marcus's weird gym parties," I muttered.

Caleb, always a bit quieter and the more reserved of the two, smiled sheepishly. "Actually, it wasn't anything wild this time. It was a Sweet 16 party for one of our college buddies' daughters."

Marcus, ever the instigator, grinned and leaned on the doorframe. "Yeah, can you believe that? The guy's a serious family man now, but he was a party legend back in the day."

I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "Wait, so you two went to a Sweet 16? No wild parties this time?"

Caleb shook his head, laughing softly. "Nope, nothing wild. We stuck with our friends from college, and now most of them are family men. We didn't party hard; it was pretty tame. There were a lot of kids, and we mostly hung out by the snacks."

Marcus chimed in with a smirk. "Yup, no wild parties for us anymore. We're practically saints now."

Jenna smiled playfully, glancing between the two of them. "Saints, huh? I'll have to take your word for it… for now."

But before I could steer the conversation away from whatever embarrassing stories my brothers were about to unleash, Marcus clapped his hands together, eyes twinkling with mischief. "Hey, wait a minute! You're the Jenna Ortega! Y/N has been gushing over."

My heart basically dropped and crashed into a million pieces. "Don't you have something better to do!?" I yelled, throwing a pillow in their direction. Caleb chimed, "Y/N, why didn't you tell us we were having guests. We need to introduce ourselves."

I groaned inwardly as Marcus stepped forward, practically bowing as he introduced himself. "Marcus L/N, professional gym rat and Ken's favorite brother."

Caleb followed suit, though his introduction was more reserved. "Caleb, L/N. I'm the Quieter brother."

Jenna smiled warmly at them, but I knew that was just the beginning.

Marcus, never one to miss an opportunity, crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at me. "So, Y/N, did you tell Jenna how prone you are to spilling things on yourself when we were kids?"

Jenna's eyes sparkled as she turned to me, clearly intrigued. "Oh, really?"

"Marcus…" I warned, but it was too late.

"Yup! She'd knock over everything. Once, she spilled an entire Liter of soda all over herself at a family reunion. We thought she would slip and fall, but instead, she just stood there like a drenched statue."

Jenna, laughing so hard she had to hold her sides, added, "Oh, this is perfect. She spilled sugar all over herself when we first met."

Both my brothers stared at me in mock surprise. "Ken! You never told us that part of the story!" Caleb teased.

Mr. Noodles wasn't assisting in comforting me, as he was lapping up all the attention from Jenna away from me. At the same time, I was relentlessly being embarrassed by Marcus and Caleb. 'True to their word, they were gonna embarrass me. I'll have to repay them somehow.'  

It wasn't until 2:40 a.m. that I noticed Jenna yawning, her eyes heavy with exhaustion. She looked at me apologetically. "I'm sorry. I had such a great night, but I think it's time I head home before I fall asleep on your couch."

I nodded, then scolded my brothers with a playful glare.  "Okay, okay, enough roasting me. Leave the girl alone already. She needs to sleep."

Jenna laughed softly and whispered yelled. Don't worry; I'll see you guys again soon. I'm sure there are plenty more embarrassing stories to hear."

My brothers waved her off with mischievous grins as she stood up, stretching. "We'll hold you to that!" I blinked, still processing her words. She's coming back? My mind raced with the idea of a "next time," but before I could dwell on it, Jenna bent down to scratch Mr. Noodles' chin.

"Thanks for letting me spoil you with all my attention tonight, Mr. Noodles," she cooed, her voice soft as she petted him. He responded with a loud purr, rubbing his head against her hand before trotting back toward the living room where my brothers were still lounging.

"Traitor," I muttered under my breath, but I couldn't help but smile.

As Jenna's guards opened the car doors, she turned back to me, a soft smile on her lips. Before leaving, she stepped forward, pulling me into a warm hug. It wasn't just a friendly hug; it lingered, her arms wrapped around me with a closeness that made my heart skip a beat. I hugged her back, trying to keep my cool, but my pulse was racing. 'Damn, my heart. Hopefully, she can't feel it beating out my chest.'

"You know, Y/N, I had a really great time tonight. You're... different. And I mean that in a good way." 

Her words made my heart stutter, and before I could even think of a response, Jenna gave me a lingering glance—one that told me she wasn't just talking about our friendship. It was the kind of look that left you standing frozen, wondering if everything you've been feeling was suddenly becoming real.

"I'll see you soon, Slick," she said softly, her voice carrying a warmth that sent shivers down my spine. She gave me a small, meaningful smile before finally stepping back and climbing into the car.

I stood there, replaying her words and the hug over and over in my mind as the car began to drive off. My thoughts were racing, her look, her tone, and the way she said "different"—it all hit me at once like a wave.

As I watched the car disappear around the corner, I felt like I'd been hit by a truck, my heart pounding against my chest. Tonight was unexpected… The way she spoke, the way she hugged me, and the way she looked at me—it was more than just a fun night out.

Jenna was interested. Really interested.

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