#fics cafe

[luvrseung]

𝐄𝐧𝐡𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐞𝐬!

## synopsis ! this is a pt. 3 to "Enha as your friends!" this is yn x heeseung couple costume edition! the other members will be coming soon :P here is jungwon's version! also if its not clear, yn and all of enha are just friends here!

## genre ! chaos, humor, crack

## warning(s) ! cursing, and not much else?? but if u feel like there should be a warning for anything else, please let me know asap!!

## a/n !  this is a little something in tribute to halloweekend.... which was really rough for me. need a juice cleanse fr guys... pray for me. heres my masterlist!

© luvrseung - do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my content please and thank you.

[smileyerim]

blacklisted

smut. exes to lovers. frat boy johnny, y/n is in her wild phase and gets herself into a lot of trouble. 3.5k. 100 followers gift <3

You’re an idiot. A pretty, insane idiot who’s begging to get her ass handed to her. Or, at least, that’s what your roommate says as you climb into the Uber and finally reveal your destination for the evening, your ex boyfriends frat party.

“It’s fine, nothings gonna happen. He’s probably not even gonna be there and I changed my hair since last time so I won’t even get noticed.” You say, tapping away on your phone.

“You told me we were going to Rainbow Lounge!” Seulgi lightly slaps your arm.

“Well, I lied. Besides, I’m blacklisted from there.” You say, not moving your eyes up from your phone screen, trying your best to quickly finish the discussion post for your archaeology class in time.

“You’re blacklisted?” She yells and that grabs your attention, shooting her an annoyed scowl.

“Johnny and I went out a couple of weeks ago and there was a table totally empty with bottles, so we just went and sat and drank and when the annoying ass startup dude came back, he got pissed and had us kicked out for stealing.” You shrug, googling the definition to stratigraphy. You have to give yourself a pat on the back for how well you’ve learned to adapt to writing bullshit, because how were you supposed to know any of this stuff? You haven’t been to that class in weeks.

“Okay, so? How’d you get banned?” You freeze at her question. That’s the last thing you wanted her to ask, hoping she would just accept your first answer.

You shrug, pursing your lips while you pretend to read, “Tried to kick the bouncer in the balls.”

“You did what?” She exclaims and you feel like rolling your eyes at the drama. But you don’t, because her reaction is honestly fair. That still doesn’t make it any less annoying for you.

“He got in Johnny’s face. I didn’t like that.” You whisper, it’s definitely not one of your proudest moments, but you’ll be damned if your boyfriend was made to be intimidated.

Ex. Ex-boyfriend you mean.

“The things you did for that man.” She sighs, “I’ll never get it.” And it’s a good thing she didn’t have to, loving Johnny made you stupid.

-

Okay, so maybe Seulgi was right about you being an idiot, because right in the corner of the room shouting into a what you suspect to be a pledges ear is the hottest man you’ve ever been with, and who you secretly are still in love with.

Seulgi follows your eyes to him right as he flashes the shorter boy a smile and pats him on the shoulder. Even from here you can tell Johnny is a little bit high and a lot a bit enjoying himself. You learned to read him pretty easily during your time together.

“Damn, did he get fine.” She says and you elbow her in the rib, earning a wince and an offended look from her as she grips her side.

“He was always fine.” You say sternly, wrapping an arm around her half to turn the both of you away in hopes of not catching his attention, half in an apology.

“You need a drink, you’re too bitchy when you’re sober for too long.” As much as you want to feel offended, she’s right.

So you guide her to the back of the house where you know the bar is from one too many drunken nights here and pour yourselves a drink. The first one goes down far too easy, scaring even you how quickly you recover. Your second shot, on the other hand, knocks you out, causing a coughing fit to start and you stumbling backwards.

Right before you fall to your untimely demise on the stickiest floor you’ve ever set foot on, someone catches you by your rib cage, barely grazing the underside of your breasts. As much as you’d usually be into that, you’re still a little bit hung up on Johnny and drunk you clearly suffers from memory loss as you stand up, and yell to the man who laid his hands on you.

“I have a boyfrie- oh.” You’re interrupted by the appearance of the man who caught you.

“A boyfriend, huh?” You gulp, staring right into his relaxed eyes. “Already?“ he says and you clear your throat attempting to chill out.

If you thought he looked good from across the room, you’re absolutely floored by how handsome he is up close. His hair is a little bit lighter than it used to be and his cheeks are a pretty shade of red. Your earlier assessment was wrong; he’s not high, he’s drunk. Drunk Johnny can get a little handsy too, explaining his previous behavior.

“No. I- uhh..” you trail off still staring at him. He leans in close to mock you.

“Uh-uh-uhhhhh what, Y/N?” He says, chuckling at how your eyes widen.

It’s amazing what this man does to you, how quickly he can turn you into the girl you always pretend you aren’t and leave you speechless. It pissed you off whenever he wasn’t around, often you have to recite your “I am that bitch” mantra to yourself when you caught your knees getting weak around him.

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” Is what you smartly chose to say. Of course he knew that, he was just fucking with you. He is fucking with you. He knows that you know that too, which makes this all the more pathetic on your part.

“Not anymore.” He points out after breaking eye contact to snatch a beer from the cooler behind him.

“Yeah, that.” You say, eyes scanning for wherever the hell Seulgi went. You’re going to give her a real talking too when you get home. You’re fully prepared to take her to court for breaking girl-rules by leaving you alone at a party. A party your ex is hosting, for that matter.

“What are you doing here, Y/N?” He says with a sigh after he downs half his beer. He sounds disappointed. Probably because he is, you assess.

“Seulgi’s talking to one of the pledges. He invited her, I’m here in case he gets weird with her.” You lie.

He scoffs and rolls his eyes, leaning his side into the bar to look at you. You knew your lie wouldn’t get past him so you aren’t quite sure why you tried to tell it. Maybe you’re trying to hold onto even a pinch of power, you aren’t sure.

“All my boys know you and your girls are off limits, so I know that ain’t true. What’s the real reason, Y/N?” You gulp, again. You want to slap yourself in the face for acting so girly and shy around him, your inner “bad bitch” ego is screaming expletives you’d never say out loud to you as you look at him closer.

“Dunno. I’m blacklisted from every other frat and I didn’t wanna pay for liquor.” It’s the partial truth and he knows it, so he accepts your answer out of pity for you. Or at least that’s how it feels as he gives you that look. The look that he knows you’re pulling his leg but he’s going to let you. You know your relationship isn’t one sided in the love-dumb department, it’s about time he caught up to speed with your idiocy for the night.

“Whatever, Y/N.” He says and it’s your turn to roll your eyes as you grab your drink and walk away, making sure to sway your hips in a very special way you know he can’t resist. It’s about damn time you pulled it together and made him the weak one. You won’t admit it to yourself yet, or probably ever, but this is exactly what you wanted to happen. But no jury would accept a simple dramatic sway of your hips as evidence to such thing, so you allow your dumb bitch-ness take over.

He follows you to the dance floor, of course he does. You smile when you feel his hand just barely graze the center of your back as you continue walking, pretending to look for Seulgi.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He whispers in your ear from behind, you roll your eyes in pleasure before throwing on your poker face and flipping around to face him, standing far too close to be interpreted as just friendly as you placed your palm on his tight chest.

“In case you forgot asshole, I’m here to keep an eye on my friend. So if you wouldn’t mind I’ll go off and do just that.” You say, dropping your hand from his chest and turning around. Or, at least, you try.

His hand travels south quickly and grabs a meaty handful of your ass. You gasp and look into his blown out eyes, his face much closer than it was before. You’re looking into his eyes, he’s looking at your lips. If you had the brain for wit, you’d poke fun at how classic all of this is. But you’re dumb and desperate to get the idiot fucked out of you so you play into his silly little game.

“We both know that’s bullshit.” He growls and the your heart drops to your stomach as he readjusts his hands for a bigger, much more intentional grip. His long fingers graze so, so close to where you want him most with the readjustment of his hand that nearly makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. Key word, nearly. You keep your intense eye contact as his eyes jump around everywhere from your eyes, to your lips, to your cleavage.

“World doesn’t revolve around you, Johnny.” You say just to egg him on. His eyes snap to yours as a fire lights behind them. You’re all too familiar with this look. 2 more steps in the correct direction and you have him right under your thumb.

“Oh, but yours does clearly.” He sasses and you’re suddenly feeling weak and desperate for literally anything he could give you.

You don’t say anything at that, just stare at him with your “fuck me” eyes you know he can’t resist.

“You know what I want to do with you, so just let me.” He says, fire behind his blown out eyes.

Your next move is what can only be described as a power move, as your hand finds the back of his neck to move his head down, leaning into his ear as to whisper but only licking a stripe up the side. It’s Johnny’s surprising weakness, and it clearly works as his grip on your ass tightens at the action.

You whisper, blowing cool air onto the wet strip you left behind. “Then do something.”

He’s exactly where you want him as he leans back and releases you from his tight hold and grabs your hand again, leading you around the corner and down the hallway guarded by 3 bored looking pledges to the bedrooms in the house. He’s holding your hand as if he’s guiding you, as if you haven’t played this game before, as if you didn’t for 2 whole years.

Once inside his room lit only by the blue LED light strip on his ceiling, he presses you against the door and steals your lips in a bruising kiss. Johnny wasn’t the best kisser ever, but you don’t care, his dick was the best you had ever had and that was enough for you.

Your hand finds his hair and grip it tightly, the other wrapping around his shoulder keeping him close to you. Johnny, on the other hand, can’t keep his hands in one place as he moves from your ass, to your waist, to your breasts.

“Fuck. Missed this.” His pussy-dumb brain provides him as he breaks the kiss to turn you around and lay on the bed, you ungracefully ending up on top of him. As awkward as it was, Johnny seems satisfied to have your weight on his crotch as he stares at you with a satisfied smile.

“You gonna kiss me or what?” You say, refusing to make the first move again. You and Johnny were experts at cat and mouse with one another. It was your favorite part of your intimate life.

He pouts and shakes his head. “Nah. Gonna do this instead.” He says as his rough hands swiftly lift your shirt off your head. Not long after he’s sitting up, holding you in a tight hug as his mouth finds your exposed nipple licking and sucking and lightly biting in the way he knows you like.

You release a surprisingly loud moan, tightly grabbing his hair and pushing his head further in.

“F-fuck Johnny.” You say as your hips involuntarily grind down on his from your straddling position on top of him. He’s not hard yet, but you feel his dick twitch at your movements

You lean back, your hands finding the space near his knees as you grind on him, mouth open and eyes heavy. You’re giving him a real show.

“Fuck, Y/N, stop playin’” he says, one hand moving to pinch your nipple and the other moving down to the waistband of your shorts, slipping far too easily underneath and replacing his clothed dick with his own hand for you to grind on. The loudest moan of the night escapes your mouth when he makes contact with your exposed clit. He doesn’t rub, just places 2 fingers in between your lower lips to let you keep grinding, his knuckle hitting right on your clit. Your eyes close and your head leans back as you keep moving. He’s watching you with hungry eyes, he’d be an idiot not to.

“Enough of that.” He says, removing his hand and flipping you over. You whine, but he quickly cuts you off by stealing your lips in a kiss. Your mouth is dry from all the panting you did earlier, but his tongue invading your mouth fixes that issue quickly as his sneaky hands move to remove your shorts and underwear completely. You moan into his once you’ve finally kicked off the annoying garments, grinding your exposed pussy into his lower stomach as his hands busy themselves with removing his own jeans and boxers.

“You’ve never been this needy before.” He says as he leans back temporary to remove the rest of his jeans, appreciating the sight of you fully exposed to him with your knees knocked around his thighs waiting for him.

“Fuck. Well yeah, Johnny, it’s been weeks.” You snark, desperate to see his dick for the first time in a while. Like an old friend, you missed it desperately.

He chuckles, choosing to ignore your sass as he finally releases his dick from his boxers and throwing them far across the room. He begins stroking it, his mouth falling open as he stares at your wanting eyes.

He clearly doesn’t have any plans of sticking it in you any time soon, so you take matters into your own hands, sitting up and swatting his hand away to lick a stripe from the beginning of his balls up to the head where you swirl your tongue and suck, sliding the tip of your tongue back and forth on the slit. He moans and begins collecting your hair in his fist as you wrap your own around the rest of his dick. You’ve never been able to fit him all the way in and you likely never will, but it doesn’t hurt to try. Leaning back briefly to stare at Johnny as you fist his cock up and down, trying your best to summon enough saliva to do his favorite move.

His eyes are on fire staring down at you as you release a full string of spit onto the top of his head before using your mouth to spread it down his shaft. He moans loudly and grips your hair tighter as you flatten your tongue on the bottom of his dick, sticking your tongue slightly out of your mouth as you fuck him with it, your fist twisting up and down only on what you couldn’t fit. He’s losing his mind above you, you can hear him. You know you’re about to cause real trouble with your next move, so you open your eyes and look up as much as you can while you take your free hand off of his hip and use it to gently fondle his balls. He throws his head back and a single bead of sweat drips down the column of his neck as he moans your name.

You keep at what you do best for a while until you feel him edging close to finish. Usually, you’d be down to have him paint your throat with his cum but not tonight. Coming means post-nut clarity which also means the potential of post-nut-leave-y/n-high-and-dry and you don’t want to play with fire so you slide off his dick with a pop.

He’s looking down at you again with that same fire, but there’s hidden aggression in you blue balling him. You can’t help but smile at yourself as he grips your knees and pulls you so your back is flat against the bed as he swirls his spit-slick dick around your entrance.

“Don’t be a pussy, just do it.” You whine after he moves the head up and down your pussy, clearly just trying to get a rise out of you.

“Oh, can’t take your own medicine huh?” He teases and you whine, kicking up and down behind him.

“Nope, not really.” You say, unfortunately being the one to fold first as you take his dick into your own hands and shoving it inside of you.

Obviously, you did nothing wrong as you both moan in sync as he bottoms out inside of you.

Funny thing about fucking someone you love, you learn exactly what it is that makes the other person scream and writhe, reading their body’s language like it was your own. So when Johnny gives you exactly enough time it takes for you to adjust without asking, your heart sadly flutters as he moves at the pace that works just right. Your hands find his shoulders as he thrusts into you, his lips on the side of your neck on your sweet spot as you moan loudly into his ear. Between your own loud moans, you can hear his heavy breathing on your neck. His hands move to play with your breasts again, pinching your nipples in the way he just knows you love. It doesn’t take long for the both of you to reach your highs, since it’s been so long since you’ve been with another person.

As Johnny collapses beside you with a huff, you can’t help but wonder what this means for you two. There’s a very real reason you two broke up, but your brain can’t comprehend it right now as he looks so pretty with his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

He feels you staring and he looks right back, the butterflies in your stomach explode. It’s moments like these that remind you why you chose him of all men to commit to, he feels safe. He is safe. You can be your wild, bitchy self out in public but you’re safe to be yourself around him. He is stable enough to handle both sides, and he seemed to like them enough to make you his.

“What are we doing?” He says and the tone in his voice makes your heart sting.

“I want you.” Is all you say in a whisper back. You hope he knows exactly what you’re saying but you aren’t sure. Being vulnerable was easy when you were with him, but you aren’t so sure if that’s a good idea right now.

“I don’t want this.” And that damn near makes your heart break. You scoff and roll your eyes in an insane defense mechanism he can definitely see through.

“Should’ve said that before we fucked.” You say, avoiding eye contact and trying not to cry.

For some reason, though, you don’t move to stand up and leave. Because somehow, you know that he didn’t mean what he said the way you took it. But you need him to say it, you won’t let any ambiguity snake it’s way into your heart.

“No, Y/N, look at me.” You turn to face him and his sincere eyes.

“I don’t want this. The fucking. The you showing up at my parties pretending it wasn’t for me. The thinking of you every day and throwing parties hoping you’ll show up. I want you just as you, no games.” You gulp and your eyes well up with tears you can’t control this time. You didn’t know how much you missed him until this moment.

“I want you back, Y/N. Please take me back.” He whispers and you don’t respond with words, but with a hard kiss to his open lips.

The unspoken promise that’s hanging in the air settles nicely on you two, the feeling of finally being home again creeps it’s way comfortably into your hearts.

[starrgaziinggg]

SKZ CAFE TEXTS | hyunjin x reader

private texts between Hyunjin and yn from skz cafe

[anotherwellkeptsecret]

To a Stranger: Prologue & 1-5

This comic is based on a true story--about how a lonely waitress by day and artist by night crosses paths with the man who stood up for her when they were children.

This comic does not have a set update schedule. I will draw pages as time allows. Please enjoy!

[forest-hashira]

'Til Death Do Us Part

hi everyone! this is my (first) entry for @kentopedia's "Love Through the Ages" collab/event! this is a retelling of the myth of Orpheus and Eurydice, but with Gojo/Reader. if you want to know the full vibes for this, i listened to Moon Song and I Know The End by Phoebe Bridgers on repeat while writing this.

read on ao3 here | wc: ~3.3k | cw: gn reader, satoru is a musician, major character death (reader), hurt no comfort, unhappy ending

Falling in love with you was easy. In fact, it was probably the easiest thing Satoru had ever done in his life; even easier than picking up the lyre as soon as he was strong enough to hold it; even easier than the singing lessons he’d outgrown the need for when he was still just a young boy; easier than charming every young woman he ever came across, leaving a long string of broken hearts in his wake.

But not you.

With you, he’d taken his time, had actually gotten to know you until it felt like he’d known you all his life; he knew your favorite season, what times you liked to take walks in the fields outside of town, even your favorite place to watch the sunset. He also knew that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Falling in love with you was easy, and even after you’d fallen in love with him, too, asking you to marry him felt terrifying. But you said yes, and all that terror had melted into elation. 

There was hardly any time at all between your engagement and your wedding, both of you eager to belong to each other forever, so in love it was almost painful. Though the wedding itself was small – and barely a month after Satoru proposed – it was the most joyful day in both of your lives. Being surrounded by the laughter of your loved ones, everyone dancing and enjoying good food and dancing had made you feel lighter than air, even long after the sun had set; for once, you weren’t even sad that you had missed watching it from your favorite spot.

Falling in love with you was easy. Loving you was easier. Losing you was the most painful thing Satoru had ever experienced.

It was only days after your wedding, after you had promised to be at one another’s side until the end, in the very field where you’d first told him you loved him, where you’d shared your first kiss. 

You had cried out from a sharp pain in your ankle, and when both of you looked to see what it was, you watched a large snake disappear into the flowers. In a panic, Satoru had ripped the fabric of his tunic, wrapping it tightly around the wound, silently, desperately praying that the poison would move slow enough for him to get you back to the town, where he could only hope someone would know how to cure snake bites. He couldn’t lose you, not like this, not so soon after he’d made you his.

When he’d gone to carry you – to pick you up and rush back to town with you in his arms – he had seen your skin was already an unnaturally pale, ashen color, a sheen of sweat over your whole body.

“No,” he’d whispered, shaking his head, as if that would magically give him more time to save you. “No, no no no.”

You’d only smiled at him, though your eyes were already starting to go a little unfocused. “It’s too late, my love.” Your hands had tangled in the front of his tunic, the soft blue fabric crumpling so easily between your fingers. “But this isn’t such a bad place to die, is it? I’m with you, and the flowers are blooming, and the sun is shining.” With every word, you’d had to lean more and more of your weight into him, your legs losing strength by the second.

“Let’s just sit together for a moment, my love, and enjoy the breeze. I don’t want to be scared when I go.”

The words had nearly shattered Satoru, but he had nodded, easing both of you down to lay amongst the flowers, cradling you close to himself the whole time. He’d stared down at you without blinking, unwilling to miss a single heartbeat of the time he had left with you; the fact that you had looked up at him, too, was both a blessing and a curse.

“Don’t go,” he’d pleaded, throat tight with the tears he was fighting back. “I don’t want you to go. I love you.”

“I know,” you’d whispered back. “I don’t want to go, either. I love you, Satoru, and I wish we had more time, but we don’t.”

“It’s not fair.”

“No,” you’d agreed, a bittersweet smile on your lips. “It’s not fair. But neither is life. And I’m happy to have spent as much of mine with you as I got to.”

Words had failed him then, and he’d leaned down to press one last kiss to your lips, knowing deep down that this would be his last chance. And he had been right; you’d managed to return his kiss for a moment, before going completely still in his arms.

Satoru had stayed in that field with you and wept for hours after the warmth left your body, only forcing himself to stand and take both of you back to town when it began to grow dark and a chill drifted in on the breeze you had been so eager to feel in your last moments.

And so, he had carried you home, his eyes red-rimmed and swollen from crying, but his face otherwise blank, too numb to feel even grief at that moment. No one that saw him had tried to stop him, the sight of the typically lively musician so hollow, so quiet, had left everyone shaken.

The days after your death all blurred together; the only one that stuck out significantly from the others was the day of your funeral, because it was the only time he’d cleaned himself up and left the house, and even that was because Satoru knew he was expected to be there, the grieving husband to round out the picture of a Perfect Funeral. It had made him sick, and he’d excused himself as quickly as possible. 

He spent much of his time crying, or staring at the wall, or ceiling, replaying that last afternoon with you, obsessing over how he could have done things differently, how he could have saved you, even if he knew logically it was pointless; what was done could not be undone, especially not death. 

…Could it?

Once Satoru had the thought, he could not bring himself to abandon it, so he began instead to meticulously detail his plan. 

The days were already growing colder, which meant that Lady Persephone had returned to her husband’s realm of the Underworld; perhaps he would be able to use that to his advantage. 

Satoru had a purpose again, something to get him out of bed and moving; he had a goal to achieve, and no earthly force would stop him. He spent days polishing and tuning his instruments, and days longer composing and perfecting a song to play for the King and Queen of the Underworld; if he was going to convince the keepers of the dead to release one of their charges, everything needed to be perfect.

He was vaguely aware that a couple people – Suguru and Shoko, perhaps? Anything outside of his task was fuzzy at best – came to check on him occasionally, just as they had before he had manically begun to prepare to do the impossible. If they tried to talk him out of it, he can’t remember; even if they had tried, it wouldn’t have worked. His sole focus was on getting you back, and nothing would stand in his way.

By the time Satoru felt he had done everything he could to prepare for his journey, almost two weeks had passed since you’d died in his arms.

Your husband dressed warmly, both because he was unsure what to expect in the Underworld and because having your scarf wrapped around his neck gave him confidence that his plan would work; how could it not, when wearing the scarf wreathed him in your scent, as if you were already back with him again?

The sun was barely up when Satoru left your home, his lyre wrapped carefully in muslin and tucked into his bag. He knew the entrance to the Underworld was close enough to walk, but he didn’t know how long it would take him to get there, and he didn’t want to waste any time at all. Though he had left so early in the morning, there were still a few townspeople that saw him, asked him where he was going, but he ignored them all; conversation would only delay his journey, and he wouldn’t have that.

The musician made good time, all things considered, reaching the entrance to the Underworld about an hour past midday. He paused for a moment, took a deep breath to steel himself, then stepped forwards into the darkness.

He had no torch to light his way, but the path beneath his feet seemed to glow on its own, as if guiding him along; as if the Lord and Lady were expecting and didn’t want to be kept waiting because the foolish mortal lost his way. So, seeing no other option, he followed the soft, almost foggy glow as it led him deeper and deeper into the earth and – hopefully – to the throne room of Hades and Persephone. 

Time didn’t quite feel the same below the surface – it felt thicker, somehow, and heavier, catching on his clothes and sticking to his skin like honey – which meant he had no idea how long he’d been walking. The only thing that kept him from panicking was the faintest scent of pomegranates, coming from the same direction the path seemed to lead.

Eventually, Satoru did reach the throne room, though he couldn’t have recalled what it looked like later if his life depended on it. For as much as he looked around, the whole room could have been made of diamonds and liquid gold could have rained from the ceiling; none of that mattered to him, because it had nothing to do with you. His gaze went straight to the couple in their thrones, and he fought to keep his nerves under control; now was not the moment to get stage fright for the first time in his life. 

“Your Highness,” he said, bowing so low he felt the way his hair shifted to cooperate with gravity, the dusty purple of his undercut no longer hidden beneath the pale strands of his frosty hair, so white it practically glowed in the dusk of the throne room. 

“What brings you to my realm, mortal?” Hades asked, his expression impassive, though his eyes simmered with something dangerous. 

“I have come to play you a song,” Satoru answered simply, standing from his bow and removing his lyre from his bag, unwrapping the fabric from around it with great care. He adjusted his hold on the instrument until it sat nestled in his arms in the best position for him to play, then lifted his gaze back to the gods. “If it pleases my Lord and her Ladyship, of course.”

This was the one catch in his plan: if he was denied permission to play, he had no chance of returning home with you at his side.

“Oh, please?” Persephone turned to face her husband, a pleading expression on her face. “Let him play, my love. We never have mortal visitors, much less artists, and I want to hear what he’s prepared for us!”

The King of the Dead hesitated for a few moments, staring at his wife, but Satoru caught the way his smoldering eyes softened, the way the hard lines of his mouth eased, and the musician knew he would be allowed to play.

“My wife wishes to hear you play,” the god said, turning back to the man before him. “I hope you don’t disappoint her with your skills.”

With another, smaller bow, Satoru began to play, and soon thereafter began to sing. He sang about you: all the ways you loved him, and all the ways he loved you in return. He sang of his life before he met you: how he had played around, led people along and broken their hearts with his carelessness, simply because he was bored. He sang of your lives after you’d met: how you had brightened his mornings and sweetened his days and warmed his nights; how you had planned a future together you had never gotten to see. The harmonies from his lyre blended with the melodies of his voice, painting the image of you so vividly Satoru swore he could see your shape in front of him again.

It wasn’t until he finished his song that he realized he could see you there in front of him, though your form wavered around the edges, like you were a little less than solid. But you were there, and you were smiling, and he felt like falling to his knees and crawling to you right then and there; the only thing that stopped him was realizing that both Hades and Persephone were openly weeping.

He, Gojo Satoru, had brought gods to tears with his music, and with his love for you.

Emboldened by seeing your face again, Satoru spoke. “Please,” he begged, his voice eggshell-thin, cracking under the stress of his request. “Please don’t make me return home without my love. I cannot bear to make the journey alone again.”

At first he received only silence in response, and though he was not a patient man by nature, he forced himself to wait until he was spoken to, not wanting to risk upsetting the gods before him.

“Once a soul has entered the Underworld, it cannot be allowed to leave again,” Hades responded once he had composed himself, which felt like years after Satoru had made his plea. “I am very sorry.”

The musician felt his heart sink at the denial, and he began to consider begging to be allowed to stay, instead, if he couldn’t bring you back with him.

“Oh, please, my love,” Persephone cried, messily wiping the tears from her eyes as she gazed at her husband. “You let me go home again when my mother begged for my return. Why can’t you grant him this same mercy?”

“Because order must be maintained,” the Lord of the Underworld answered. “Rules must be followed, you know this. Your own return home has its own rules, after all.”

“Then give me rules I must abide by. I swear I will follow them as faithfully as possible.” Though he knew interrupting a conversation between gods could be dangerous, Satoru simply could not stop the words from tumbling from his lips.

“Please.” The goddess’s voice was petal-soft, a warm, hopefully breeze cutting through the chill of the Underworld. 

The silence was heavy, crushing the air out of every part of the room, suffocating the musician where he stood. Despite the pain, Satoru only had eyes for you, your warm gaze giving him the strength to push through, to wait for Hades’s answer before completely giving up hope.

“If I let you both return to the surface world,” the god’s voice, though low and rough, rang out clear. “You must follow one rule.”

“Only one?” It seemed too good to be true.

“It is a difficult one.”

“Anything,” Satoru rushed out. “I’ll do anything.”

“You will lead the two of you out of the Underworld, but until you both are on the surface again, out of my domain, you are not to turn around. I promise you will not be alone, that you will return with your love, but you must not turn around before you leave this place. If you turn around, you will have to leave here alone, and you will never be allowed to return until your own death.”

“If I’m not allowed to turn around, are we at least allowed to speak to each other?”

“Yes, you can converse on the journey. Now, take your lover and go. Once you leave the throne room you must keep your back turned at all times until you reach the surface.”

Bowing deeply, Satoru thanked the god profusely for several moments, then straightened and stepped forward, reaching out and taking your hands, helping you from where you sat on the floor of the throne room.

“Let’s go home,” you said, smiling so sweetly at him it made his teeth ache. He nodded eagerly in agreement, taking just a moment longer to take in your features before guiding you to the entrance of the throne room.

“Are you ready?” he asks, turning to you one last time as the two of you stand in the threshold. “I’m not sure how long the journey back is, and if you grow tired we can’t stop.”

“I’m ready when you are,” was your answer, giving his hand a light squeeze to show you meant the words. 

Satoru nodded back, once again pausing to admire your face, your smile, everything about you, before turning away, still holding your hand as he stepped out of the throne room and began the trek back to the surface, back home.

He was silent for a bit at first, feeling your hand in his enough to assure him you were there, but eventually both his nerves and his natural chattiness got the better of him. He said almost every thought that came to his mind, though he tried to make sure to ask as many questions as possible, eager to hear your answers, your sweet voice a soothing balm to his raw and frayed nerves. 

The journey felt shorter this time around, though whether that was because he was retracing his footsteps, or some other strange property of time in the Underworld, Satoru couldn’t be sure. He wasn’t going to complain about it, either, because not turning to look at you was proving much more difficult than he had thought when he was first given the rule.

When he finally saw the entrance to the surface, sunlight still visible on the horizon, a beaming grin broke out across his face. “We’re nearly there,” he told you. “See? We’ve nearly made it.” Unable to help himself, he picked up his pace, still pulling you along behind him. 

He didn’t notice your hand slipping from his own as he closed the last few paces to the entrance.

His joy was palpable as he practically leapt through the gates, back onto the surface, into the grass that waited for him as the sun began to set behind him.

“We did it!” Satoru cheered, spinning around to look at you. “Oh, my love, it feels so good to have you—” The sight of your sad smile had his gaze dropping to your feet.

You hadn’t yet crossed over the threshold.

And he had turned around and looked at you.

“No,” he begged, racing towards you, desperate for at least one last kiss, one last embrace, even if he could not keep you with him. “Please, my love, I’m so sorry.”

Before he could reach out and touch you, though, your shape had already begun to waver, rippling like the surface of a pool disturbed by the wind. You only shook your head, your smile never leaving your lips. “It’s okay,” you assured him. “I love you. I’ll see you again someday. Live well for me, okay?”

“I-I’ll try,” he choked out, tears thick in his voice even before they spilled from his eyes, though there was no stopping them as your form wavered more, then faded fully from sight.

He fell to his knees and wept, loud, heaving sobs, gripping handfuls of grass as he pressed his forehead to the ground, forced to mourn you a second time.

ok so this was baby's first sad ending/hurt no comfort so pls don't come for me if it was bad i'm so sorry idk how to do this i don't like sad endings but this is my favorite myth i couldn't bring myself to change the ending

tagging: @kentopedia @kentohours @mitsuristoleme

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Three - Raindrops and Goodbyes

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SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Talks about past (bad) Caregivers, talks about fear of abandonment, some heavy negative feelings, comparing oneself to others, fluff but ends in some angst, Bub eats, food mentioned, Bub cries 

Word Count - 1751

Note - Sorry this took so long to get out! Things got hectic, and crappy, and I haven't been able to edit, or format, or really write lately! Luckily things are going well and I won't start school till the 16th so I'm hoping to get some stuff out in the next week or so! Part four will be posted tomorrow! I can't leave us on a sad note for too long! I just can't!!

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Y/n always hated wearing her yellow raincoat, the material feeling odd against her skin, and the crinkle of the fabric was never music to her ears. But on days like this, grey skies and heavy raindrops falling to the ground, she had no choice but to suit up. Her matching rain boots on, allowing her to splash in any puddle she felt needed to be played in. 

As she neared the Cafe she got excited, Bucky said they would go to the park today, and although it’s running she has hopes that he’ll let them go anyways, her umbrella overhead creating enough of a dry patch to maybe, at the least, run around in the mud without catching a nasty cold. 

“Mr!” She cheered as she walked in, something she did every time she saw him sat at his usual table, early as always. “I has something for you!” She smiled big as she unzipped the front pocket of her backpack “Here.” Her smile grew as Bucky’s mirrored hers, the small baggie with flowers printed on it full of chocolate chip cookies her pride and joy. 

“You made these?” 

“Yes!” Y/n says still standing, ready to leave for the park wherever Bucky is ready. Shifting her weight from one foot to another, growing impatient. “All on my own!” She cheered, proud of her baked goods. “Park now?” Bub asked, her smile still huge, both hands grasping the straps of her bag, now back on her back. 

“It’s raining, Bub.” Bucky frowned, causing Bub to mirror his expression. “But we’ll go next time, okay?” He asked, his hands immediately helping Y/n out of her raincoat, the buttons soon undone. 

“But you promised?” Y/n frowned, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “I wanted to go to d’park.” Y/n held back her tears, though she wished to stomp her foot and throw a small fit, she didn’t know Bucky well enough to truly let him see her little side completely. So instead she fixed her clothing after her coat had been taken off and sat in her usual seat. 

“I know I promised, Bub.” She smiled at the nickname. “But I brought us a fun game to play today.” He was quickly making her forget about the park trip altogether, now excited to see whatever game he had brought. She hoped it wasn’t UNO, she sucked at that. “Here.” He said as he placed a game on the table, the pink and blue of Candyland making Y/n let out a small squeal. 

“I love Candyland!” She grabbed the box and bounced in her seat. “Can we play now?” She asked, her eyes turning to Bucky, him already looking at her. “Please?” She added on for good measure. 

The moment he nodded his head she opened the box, pulling all the pieces out. “Why don’t you set it up, and I get us some snacks?” Bucky asked, Y/n didn’t even look up at him, but nodded her head. Too busy pulling out the different characters. 

Y/n didn’t know how long it took Bucky to get snacks, but by the time he got back to the table she had created a whole plot amongst the characters and their kingdoms. “Here, Bub.” Bucky said as he placed a plate on the table. It was more than the usual cake pop he got her, though one still sat on the plate. This time he got vegetables and dip, some goldfish, and a cup of juice. 

“Thank you, Mr.” Y/n smiled up at him, grabbing a celery stick and dipping it. “Can I be the ice cream cone?” She asked, showing him the character she had in her hand. Bucky nodded but stayed sitting. “You need’a pick a lil guy.” She pointed to the characters situated around the board. 

“Right.” He said, his expression growing serious as he looked each one over. “I’ll pick this one, he looks tough.” Y/n broke out into a fit of giggles, the marshmallow definitely not a ‘tough guy’. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

They got to playing the game, Y/n winning two times in a row. She wasn’t surprised, while she knew it was all down to luck, she had played the game a ton of times so clearly the Candyland gods liked her more than Bucky. “Are you cold bub?” Bucky asked her, making her realise she was shivering slightly.

She knew not bringing a sweater might be a bad idea, but she thought they were going to the park. “Um, yeah.” She nodded then shrugged her shoulders. She hoped he wouldn’t make her go back home and get one, she only had so much time in a day to spend at the cafe. “Bu’ I’m all good, can we play again?” She asked, moving their pieces back to the star. 

“Yeah we can play again, just wait a second.” Bucky stood up, she wondered where he was going, but instead of leaving to grab something or go to the bathroom he stood at the side of her booth with a black sweater in hand. “Hands up, Bub.” He said, holding the sweater out. 

“I don’ need your sweater, wha’ if yous get cold?” She asked, not sure if her being so comfortable around Bucky her little side couldn’t help but come out now was a good thing or a bad thing. While she was 100% sure Bucky was a safe guy to be around, she didn’t want to get too attached to him just in case. 

“I won’t get cold.” He answered in a softer voice. She knew he was special, that’s what everyone in the newspapers said, that he’s indestructible. But she’d hate to be the person who gave a super soldier a cold because she took his sweater. “Bub.” His voice drew her out of her worrying. He was now crouched down so they were eye level. “I won’t get cold, but you’re shivering.” He didn’t wait for her to put her arms up, instead just putting it over her head and waiting for her to put her arms through on her own.

“Tanks.” Bub murmured, looking at Bucky with a small smile. She was thankful for the sweater, now warm, but she still worried that she was too much to handle. He had given her a lot, crayons, colouring pages, so much of his time, and now his sweater. She hadn’t given him anything but cookies that she hoped tasted okay. 

“Why don’t we play again?” Bucky asked as he settled back into his seat. “I can feel it, I’m going to win this one.” He teased, she shook her head, he had no clue that the Candyland gods were on her side, and she hoped he would never know. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Y/n frowned as she saw Bucky pacing around outside. It had stopped raining but he said that they should wait till a sunny day to go out, because ‘everything would be slippery’. Buck’s phone had rung five hours ago, well maybe two minutes ago, but it felt like forever as she just watched him pace with an unhappy look on his face. 

She grabbed the last few goldfish and got back to her colouring, when she had won for a third time Bucky had to quit, saying his ego couldn’t handle anymore. Y/n giggled at the memory. 

The doorbell rang out and she quickly turned, though her smile turned back into a frown when she saw Bucky’s sad expression. “I’m sorry, I have to go, Bub.” He said, his sad words said in a kind tone. 

“Oh, otay.” Y/n answered, watching him pack up his things. “Will you be back tomorrow?” She asked, her crayons laid on the table instead of in her hands. 

Bucky sighed, then sat down, his hands clasped on the table. “I’m going to be gone until next wednesday.” Y/n’s back straightened up, he’d be gone for nine days. That was a lot of time to be gone, and a lot of time for him to think and change his mind about her. 

“Oh, do you, do you wan’ your sweater back?” She asked, wiggling her hands out of the sleeves before Bucky got to her. His hands covering hers, a painful smile on his face. 

“You can keep it, I’ll get it back when I come back okay?” Y/n nodded. “I’ll put my phone number in your phone, and I’ll text you if I’m going to be back later than wednesday, okay?” She nodded her head, at least he wasn’t just up and leaving, he was giving her a point of contact if needed. She handed him her phone, watching as he took forever to type out his name and number. It was a little silly to watch. “I won’t be able to text or call you while I’m away.” He admitted. “But you can text me all you want and I’ll read them when I’m back.” Bucky offered, though she knew she wouldn’t do that, she wouldn’t bother him while he was away, she knew people hated that. 

She just nodded her head, watching him as he put his coat and backpack on. “Stay safe.” She whispered as he stood in front of her, ready to leave. 

“And you be good, Bub.” Bucky whispered back, and then he was gone. She watched him get into his jeep and drive away. She knew her mind was being silly when she couldn’t help but think he wouldn’t come back, but it didn’t mean it stopped that train of thought. 

She knew deep down that he had to leave, he didn’t want to, but he had to. She knew he wasn’t like the other people who became her friends and then left and never came back, she knew that, somewhere in her mind she knew that. But she still couldn’t help it as a few tears slipped down her cheeks as she cleaned up. She couldn’t help but let out a small sad noise as she put on her coat, and she couldn’t help but sob the moment she got home and into bed. 

“He had to go save people, he was needed by the world because he's a good guy, that’s why he left.” She whispered to herself all night, but she still felt as though he had left because of something she did.

[cringefail-clown]

i think my favourite tidbit ive written so far for cam cafe au is the Hal's Real Name debacle, bc in it hal is a name he got for himself when he first watched 2001 space odyssey at 13. jake first catches a wind of it when dave calls hal "dee", but hals like nah im not telling you it requires lvl 69 friendship and youre at best on lvl 3 so get fucked noob. everyone at the cafe and all jake and hals friends know but everyone decides to fuck with jake and not tell him. its a constant subplot through the story until its finally revealed at the end and i can tell you, yall aint ready for what the name is

[arcanesea]

cat cafe | lee minho x reader | 721 w.

Co-owning a cat cafe has been a successful attempt to make a side income for Minho. Plus point because he gets to see them more frequently than his actual cats.

Another plus point because you're his co-owner.

"We really need to talk about the interior design. I feel like it's too dull and need more color or something," you said on the phone. You admit the location of this cafe is a bit... secluded. But with the power of social media, you believe this place can thrive.

On the other line, Minho was looking through his laptop screen. Scrolling through countless pictures about "Cat cafe interior designs." He knows absolutely nothing about interior design, but if you say so, he'll find a way to make it work. You talk more about changing this and that, what's the most important thing to do according to you and the internet.

"I hope you're actually listening," you said quietly. You realize that he hasn't spoken any words since he picked up the phone 5 minutes ago.

"I am!" Minho assured. He had already texted his friends for recommendations.

"M'kay, well, let's talk about this more when you have free time," you proposed.

"How about tomorrow?" he asks. "I'll make appointments with an interior designer so we can talk about it."

You open your mouth to protest, Minho is a responsible co-owner. Sometimes too responsible that he immediately agrees to everything you say. Of course, you're not complaining, but it never failed to fluster you.

"Are you free around lunch?" Minho asks again. You confirmed your free schedule for tomorrow before writing down some of your ideas.

"How did you even find an interior designer that quick?" you asked Minho when he walked into the cafe the next morning. He decided that it would be best if both of you talked first and sort out some things.

"Let's say I have... friends... who have connections..." he drawled. Your eyes widen at the confession. "It'll be great, trust me," Minho adds.

Around lunch, a middle-aged woman walked inside the cafe, looking around the place. You quickly notice this and nudge Minho's elbow. He stood up instantly, approaching the woman before guiding her to where you were sitting.

After exchanging names, she took out a catalog. Colors drained from Minho's face, a grave mistake that prompted you to look at him in confusion.

"Sorry," you said softly, "uh... I think there's a misunderstanding here." You smiled thinly. The words on the cover of the catalog look both funny and scary at the same time.

"Newlyweds Home: Interior Strategies"

Minho gulps down, mentally cursing himself.

"Oh?" the designer questioned. Looking as confused as you are. "Well, yesterday Minho said he and his partner need a consultation for a co-owned space, wouldn't that be your new home?" she continues.

"It's the cafe," Minho answered. Although his hands are itchy to snatch the catalog and look at the details of each page. He's looking at your expression, wondering if you're interested. Like he is.

"Oh!" she exclaims. Laughing awkwardly. "Well, you see, I'm actually specialized in residential interior design, not commercial ones, though I can do it as well, but I'd rather refer you to someone I know if that's okay..."

Minho inhales sharply, a smile formed on his lips. "That would be amazing, thanks!"

And just like that, the woman quickly put back the catalog in her bag, took out a name card, and slid it over to Minho. All three of you talk for a moment before Minho escorts her out.

For a split second, you were actually thinking about what it's like to actually have your own home. Build your own family. With Minho.

"Well that was awkward," Minho said when he came back in. You punched his shoulder playfully. Unable to get over the silliness. "How would I know if residential and commercial interior design is different?" he tried to defend himself. Following you to the back room.

"Well, maybe next time we'll do the research together, dummy," you said, taking a glass of water. Your cheeks feel hot for no particular reason.

"Agree," Minho answered.

Maybe next time, both of you will still consider the residential interior design too. Maybe when both of you had the courage to actually let the heart lead for once.

a/n. minho is such a "whatever you say, beautiful" typa person i just know it in my heart. also mutual pining!! isn't it frustrating to read? ((bcs it is frustrating to write...)) my reader self was like "kiss already!" but no... for this one you get to decide what happens next ((or should i make a second installation? lmk heheh<3))

[ladamedusoif]

Café Crème

Javier Peña x f!reader (one-shot)

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Word count: ~ 1k

Rating: Explicit (18+; MDNI)

Content/warnings: oral (f receiving); established relationship; Javi enjoys a healthy breakfast; Javi hates embassy coffee; smut; this is literally just smut.

Summary: Your boyfriend Javier likes mornings at your place for more than just your coffee.

Notes: I keep getting sent to horny/self-deprecation jail by @julesonrecord and @lunapascal. Now, while I’m an abolitionist this is at least a productive carceral system because your punishment results in smutty little thots that turn into smutty little ficlets. And then @julesonrecord gives you a title you can’t resist. ☕️

This is my first time writing for Javier Peña. I enjoyed writing this little morning “fun”, please enjoy reading.

Javier Peña loathes what he refers to as “embassy coffee”. Correction: ��shitty embassy coffee”.

You learned this early in your relationship. The first time Javi took you out for dinner, he’d savoured the strong black coffee served at the end of the meal. The white coffee cup with its gold trim had looked comically tiny in his large hands.

“God, this beats the fuckin’ pigswill they call coffee at the embassy. Only the Americans could come to Colombia and still serve up shitty coffee.”

You’d added a little cream to your own coffee, stirring as you watched him talk, interspersing sips with deep drags on his cigarette.

“I know somewhere you can get good coffee. Fresh ground beans, French press - definitely not pigswill.”

He looked at you, cocking his head in curiosity. “Oh? Where?”

You’d smiled and arched a brow. “My place, tomorrow morning.”

That was a year ago. With Javier now spending most nights at your apartment, the morning coffee ritual had become a near-daily fixture. Whoever wakes first takes charge. Boil the water. Shower. Grind the beans. Stir. Brew. Press. Serve.

You blink awake first, Javi still sleeping soundly with his body tucked against a pillow. You reach for your favourite vintage silk robe and quietly pad out of the bedroom. Your apartment is in an older building and its layout is eccentric, to say the least: the bathroom is accessed via the narrow, galley kitchen.

You put the water on to boil while you shower, as usual. Washed and wrapped in your robe, it’s not long before the noise of the coffee grinder rouses Javi. He shuffles into the kitchen, dark hair sticking up every which way and a hand scratching at the stubble on his jaw.

He’s wearing an old Texas A&M T-shirt and a pair of the boxers he keeps at your place for the mornings. You’d had to convince him to wear them, arguing that Señora Hernández in the block opposite did not need to see just how, um, gifted your boyfriend was. And especially not at 7.30am.

“Morning, mi amor. Just going to put this on to brew.”

Javi grunts and plants a kiss to the crown of your head as he squeezes past you in the narrow kitchen, hands pressing into the soft flesh on your hips as he heads for the bathroom and his shower. You know him well enough now to know that Javier Peña is essentially non-functional until his shower and coffee.

You place the lid and plunger at the top of the French press jug, and rest your hands on the countertop as you wait for it to brew. You can hear Javi humming lightly in the shower, the scent of your bergamot shower gel gently wafting into the kitchen. The running water stops.

He always looks fucking delicious fresh out of the shower: wet hair combed back, starting to curl up at the ends; T-shirt slightly clinging to the damp skin of his broad torso; jaw freshly shaved and moustache trimmed. You slyly glimpse at him out of the corner of your eye, not wanting to let him realise you’re admiring him so intently.

Fuck. He’s so goddamn hot.

As he nears you, Javi’s scent becomes more obvious and more intoxicating. Bergamot, toothpaste, mouthwash, shaving foam. The heady combination goes straight to your core.

His shoulders are pressed against your back. One arm on the counter, one trailing on your hip and waist, seeking the edge of your robe.

“I know what you’re after.”

You feel the bristle of his moustache against the side of your neck and you moan lightly. A kiss combined with the lightest of nibbles to that sensitive place at the crook of your neck.

“Do you?”

You bite your lip and try to keep it casual, as if you aren’t already getting wet for him.

“Coffee, right? Can’t start your day without it.”

Another kiss, this time to your shoulder where the skin is exposed. You feel those long, thick fingers edging inside your robe and against the soft skin of your tummy, inching to the underside of your breast.

“That’s not the only thing I can’t start the day without.”

You turn to face him, still pinned between his arms but now placing your hands on his forearms. You cock your chin as you meet his gaze, a little defiant, perhaps, but more teasing. More willing him on, asking him to do his worst.

“Oh? What else do you need? What else do you want for breakfast?”

He does that half smile that devastates you, arching an eyebrow as he lifts a hand and trails a finger along the line of the soft, silky fabric that barely covers your chest. “I want…” A soft kiss to your décolletage. “This.”

You can feel your core pulsing now, slick gathering between your legs. Still, you try to retain your composure.

“Anything else?”

He loosens the belt of the robe and lets it fall open, exposing you. Moving one hand along the curve of your waist and lightly grasping the flesh of your hip, he brings his mouth to each of your nipples in turn, swirling his tongue around them, sending your hips bucking upwards. “And I need this.”

You notice that he’s begun to move his way down your body, throwing the robe fully open as you lean back against the kitchen counter.

“What else is on the menu?”, you gasp, feeling like your knees might give way.

He’s on his knees in front of you now, T-shirt clinging to his damp, post-shower body. He gently encourages you to part your legs, before trailing his mouth up the inside of your thighs.

Slowly. Deliberately.

He knows exactly what he’s doing.

He finally reaches your wet folds and, looking up at you for a final time, grins. “Best meal of all, cariño.”

Those lips. That mouth. That tongue. On you, in you, sucking, lapping, as if you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted.

It’s no time at all before you come with a gasp and a shudder, your release soaking him as he moans in delight. With a final kiss to your thighs and belly he pulls himself back up to standing and kisses you deeply, letting you taste yourself as he wraps you back up in your robe.

“I’ll have that coffee now, if that’s okay, baby?”

[dw-flagler]

[luvrseung]

jake as ur best friends brother and u develop feelings lol 😆

ehehehe here you go ehehe

𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃'𝐒 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ

## pairing(s)! bff's older brother! jake x reader

## genre! mostly fluff with the tiniest bit of angst

## wc! 1.2k

## warning(s)! cursing, and not much else?? but if u feel like there should be any other warnings pls lmk asap!

## a/n! another request! lowkey i love doing reqs 🫶🏻 this was very fun to do and there could possibly be a part 2 if this gets enough likes?? or if you want a part 2 LMKKKKK‼️ anywayssss enjoy~ [PART 2 OUT NOW!! <3 CLICK HERE! :D]

You’re not sure where or when it started, but you were definitely in a whole that was dug way too deep. The Sims were your absolute favorite siblings. Jake’s little sister, Bella, was your bestest friend and absolute favorite person on the planet. Growing up, and even up until now, it’s always been “y/n and Bella!” Or vice versa. To make a long story short, the two of you were the same person in different fonts. You were an only child, so having Bella around was like having a sister and best friend wrapped in one. It was also a bonus that she lived across the street from you. The two of you were always at each others’ houses and you wouldn’t want it any other way. The two of you did everything together and will keep doing everything together. You two were quite literally two peas in a pod.

Jake was a year older than the both of you. Growing up, he was close with you guys. But when high school started, he made new friends and met new people. That resulted in him being around less and less. Now that you think about it, maybe that’s when it started. Once Jake started high school and you and Bella were still in junior high. Seeing him less made you miss him. Jake being on the high school’s football team also subtracted the amount of times you would see him. But you definitely only missed him because he was fun to be around, right? That was definitely the sole reason and nothing else, right? Yeah…no.

The summer after 8th grade, before you first year of high school was when you realized you missed him because you liked him. How cliche, you think. Liking your best friend’s brother? Great. You didn’t think Jake would reciprocate your feelings, so you kept them hidden. You kept your feelings hidden when he introduced everyone to his first girlfriend. You kept your feelings hidden when he dyed his hair blonde. That was very hard on you, to be honest. And you definitely kept your feelings hidden when Jake would come home from practice to hang out with you and Bella.

“Oh, word? She’s really pretty.”

“Yeah..” Jake lets out a nervous giggle, “Yeah, she is.”

“Yeah..” Jake lets out a nervous giggle, “Yeah, she is.”

“Bro,” Jay speaks up, “You totally like her.”

“What? No I don’t, what makes you think that?”

“Dude, your ears are bright ass red right now,” heeseung speaks up.

“Okay? That could mean anything.”

“So… you wouldn’t care if I asked her out, right? Since you don’t like her that way,” Sunghoon chimes back in.

“Nah dude, she’s off limits,” Jake replies. The rest of his friends give him a look. “Hey, don’t look at me like that! She’s my little sister’s best friend. It would be so weird to see her around with one of you guys.”

“Yeah, because you like her, dude,” jay interjects.

“Okay, no. You guys got it all wrong. I see her like a little sister. You guys wanna protect your little sisters, no?”

Sunghoon speaks again, “Well, yeah. But who would be better for her than one of your closest friends, right?”

“Dude, for real. She’s off limits.”

“Oh, so someone else can have her, right? What about Sunoo? He’s really nice,” Jay adds in.

At this point, Jake starts feeling frustrated. Which results in him blurting out the first thing that comes into his mind.,“No way! She’s mine! What does he have that I don’t?” After he got that out, he looks at friends with realization. “Shit,” he manages to get out, “I have feelings for my little sister’s best friend.”

“We’ve literally been telling you this whole time“ heeseung tries to interject.

“Okay, okay, I get it,” Jake surrenders and the other guys start to laugh at him. “Hey! Fuck you guys!” He says while giving everyone the finger. He realizes now, that he’s in some deep shit.

© luvrseung - do not plagiarize, repost, translate, copy, or alter any of my content please and thank you.

[crabsnpersimmons]

Dear Crabsie,

I have brought thou a gift to defend thyself against any fishy thoughts, especially those which bringeth with them sadness and disdain, have these items to fortify your mind :

Okay have a nice day 🫂✨💕💥‼️

Dearest Starrie,

I was so thrilled upon receiving your notice of such a thoughtful gift that my joy rivalled that of my passing exam mark! However, I was simply aghast to discover that your gift had fell victim to the capricious nature of my postal service! I was looking forward to disrupting the tender tranquility of my housemates with my sweet kicks, but alas, the universe deemed this gift too powerful—too dangerous on the wrong feet. I am unworthy of such a gift. I only pray that whoever has received such a paragon of personal footwear will give them the honour and care that they deserve.

Your Humble Jestie,

Crabs

meanwhile...

but where did the other shoe go?

[saradika-graphics]

Hey there!! I've looked around your blog but the closest I found was the Alice in Wonderland dividers but really I'd prefer cute pastel bakery dividers and/or blank (wordless I guess would be a more accurate description?) headers if at all possible and if you have the free time! I'd really really appreciate it!!! Thank you so much!! I really really love your work!!! @paffuto-pastry is my side blog and the one I'm asking for dividers/headers for! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡

Ooh yes! This sounds so cute, I would love to make some! 🥖🧁🍰🎂🍓 thank you so much for sending this in and for your kind words - I really hope you like these, too! 💖

[Free] Masterlist Headers & Dividers!

Please consider liking or reblogging if you use 💕

[kate-bot]

I just wanna thank you again for the art based on my fanfic! You had every detail perfect!! I appreciate it so so so so much!!!

EEEE OF COURSE!!!!! I’m so glad i got the details right!! I reread it a bunch of times to make sure I wasn’t missing anything LOL i’m usually quite bad at interpreting the details in fanfic but i think you did a really really good job of making everything clear … so im really happy i was able to do it justice!!! :D

Also i genuinely love them so much it was an absolute pleasure… i am obsessed with this being their origin story i will be first in line for the next chapter im so serious (no rush though heheh!!!)

[veryberryjelly]

hi !! your writing is absolutely incredible <3

🫖 - daylight by taylor swift with james potter please !

𝐣𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

" i  don't wanna look at anything else now that I saw you. I don't wanna think of anything else now that I thought of you "

you never would have thought that you would be standing here, infront of the man you love, ready to commit to him forever infront of all of your friends and family.

this process had taken a lot longer than you wanted.

not only had the date had to be pushed 3 times because of other peoples schedules, but the venue you wanted had shut down.

so instead of worrying about trying to find another perfect venue and pushing the wedding again, you decided to hold it in james' back garden.

a garden which was definitely more like a field.

but it was beautiful. only 50 people including the two of you.

and it was perfect.

it may have taken 6 months to get here but you were so unbelievably happy it had come.

6 months ago james had taken you by surprise, having your entire flat decked out in candles, and you found him standing in your bedroom a lot more dressed up than you usually see him.

" what's all this, jamie ?" you questioned, dropping your bag down onto the bed, only then spotting the bouquet of your favourite flowers on the bed.

you leant over to pick them up and when you turned back to james he had moved onto the floor, knelt on one knee with a nervous smile on his face.

" what are you doing ?" you questioned, your voice wavering slightly .

you knew what he was doing but for some reason it made you malfunction.

" i am doing something i have wanted to do since the day i met you."

he took a moment and in that moment you felt your eyes burning.

" y/n, you are the most amazing girl i've ever met. even when we were just sat next to eachother in potions, i knew how much i wanted to spend my life with you. you're beautiful, smart, funny and you make every day of my life better just by being in it."

by this point the tears were flowing freely down your cheeks as you clutched the flowers to your chest.

he popped open the box in his hand and it took everything in you to stop yourself from sobbing.

" will you marry me ?"

that moment felt like yesterday when in fact it was far too long to wait for this man to be your husband.

and as you stood there infront of james with your closest friends and family watching you were truly ready to spend your life with james.

thankfully you were first with the vows because you knew that if james went first you wouldn't be able to function after the beautiful words he would definitely spew.

but you still managed to let the tears spill from your eyes at his vows.

" y/n, i've loved you for 9 years, and i want to love you for the rest of time. i dont want to look at anything else now that i've seen you. and i dont want to think of anything else now that i've thought of you. you are the best thing that has ever happened to me and i will spend the rest of my life proving to you how much i love you "

[buckys-little-belle]

Chapter Two - Backpack, Backpack

SFW - Please keep all interactions with this post, and this blog, SFW. 

Warnings - Mentions of Bucky’s ‘Old Life’, talks about slight “Violence” (Bucky’s past), talks of a first aid kit, feeling “scared” about being a little, fluff! Obviously! 

Word Count - 2164

Note - I've finished all of Bub and Buck's story now, and I have to say it's been crazy going back and blending chapters/blurbs together to create a more cohesive story. It's been fun, and crazy, and honestly I missed this little place that I loved so much. Cafe BigNSmall is the beginning of so much, not just this account. It was the first little writing thing I put out that really got traction and that led me to where I am now. Going to school in January for creative writing, beginning the process of writing my own book. This little fic that has brough comfort to so many, myself included, is so much bigger than just a fanfiction or just a writing process and I'm so thankful for everyone who has stuck by my side, who has liked, reblogged, and sent asks about it. I love every one of you, I love who you've helped me become, and I've loved every minute of re-writing this series and I hope you love re-reading, or even reading it for the first time. I just have so so so much love in my heart for this and for you <3

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

Bucky sat at his same table for the umpteenth time, but this time he sat with a smile knowing someone was on their way to sit with him. For the first time in a while Bucky wasn’t sitting and watching everyone while feeling jealous, instead he watched as a Caregiver hugged their Little and felt hopeful that he might get to have that one day. 

“MR!” Y/n yelled from the entrance like she couldn’t believe he was there, sitting at their table ready for whatever she wished to do. “Hi!” She smiled at him when she got to the table, her usual overalls and t-shirt combo covered by a heavy sweater. He was happy she had covered up more than yesterday, the sky grey instead of blue, and the colder. 

“Hi.” He smiled back, Bucky was sure he looked goofy with how big his smile was but he didn’t care. “Chilly?” He asks as he watches them shiver slightly when the finally sit down. 

“Yeah.” Y/n tilts her head to the side as she seems to contemplate something. “I think ‘m gonna get a hot chocolate.” She rummages around her bag before finding her wallet and pulling out a five dollar bill. Bucky was quicker though, already on his feet and in the line. “What are you gonna get?” Y/n asks as she joins him in the line. 

“Well, I think I’m going to get a hot chocolate too.” He looks down at her, a silly grin on her face as she nods her head. “Their cake pops look good too.” Bucky points to the glass case full of baked goods and premade sandwiches. 

“I know!” Y/n practically jumps. “I had one once.” They frown. “But I never have enough moneys for one, maybe next week I’ll get one.” They nod their head, agreeing with their idea. 

Bucky already planned on buying Y/n a cake pop, but wanted to make sure she actually did like them. Finding out she’s only had one because she can’t afford them has him vowing to always buy her one whenever she’s here. 

The money Bucky got from the government after his treatment went public often sits in his bank account unused, he has what he needs, and most of what he wants, and he hates spending the money on useless things. Yet as he watches Y/n’s eyes flicker to the case full of sweet treats with a frown on their face he’s happy to know he finally has something, someone worth spending money on. 

“Hi, what can I get you today?” The barista smiles at Bucky, giving an extra sweet grin and a wave to Y/n. 

“Can I get two medium hot chocolates, please?” Bucky places his hand on Y/n’s shoulder to get her attention before asking. “What kind of cake pop do you want Bub?” 

“I can’t.” They shrug their shoulders, clearly not aware that Bucky’s already ordering for her. 

“I’m buying you one. Which one do you want, Bub?” He adds some clarification, leaning down slightly to be at Y/n’s height, pointing to the cake pops in the case. “I love vanilla, I think I’ll get a vanilla one.” He says, hoping that him getting one will make Y/n feel less nervous. 

She begins playing with her hands, twisting her fingers together, something Bucky’s noticed she does when anxious. “Um, I like chocolate.” She whispers, looking back at Bucky with weary eyes. “But I don’ wan’ you to buy it, I -” Bucky doesn’t let her finish her sentence, instead he stands and orders both cake pops before paying. 

With both hands on Bub’s shoulders he moves them over to the wait station. “When you’re with me I’ll be the one buying things, okay?” His tone is sweet but also somehow firm, hoping his words make sense and are final, but also hoping he doesn’t seem too overbearing. 

“Like a, like when.” Bub stumbled over her words before turning around to face Bucky, his hands dropping from her shoulders only for her to grab his left, glove covered, hand to fidget with it like she does hers. “Like a caregiver?” She asks, finally meeting Bucky’s glance. 

“Exactly like that.” Bucky nods. “I’ll act like your caregiver when we’re together, okay?” He regrets using the word ‘act’ the moment he says it, Y/n somberly nodding at his words. He wants to be her caregiver all the time, he doesn’t want to just act as one while around her, but he met her yesterday. Neither of them know each other well enough for that kind of trust, yet Bucky seems to feel like they both are on the same wavelength. Like they’ve waited long enough for someone to be their other, why wait a little longer. 

“I’d like tha’.” Y/n nods, turning back around in Bucky’s arms to wait for their cake pop and hot chocolate. 

. ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . ✪ . ★ .  ✪ . ★ . 

For a whole week Bucky and Bub met up everyday, getting hot chocolate and cake pops. Y/n kept giving Bucky colouring pages to take home with her signature at the bottom, his fridge now covered in them after a frantic late night trip to buy magnets. Walking into his house and seeing the fridge coloured in pictures made him love the fact that he bought a huge fridge able to store at least another week's worth of pictures without having to remove anymore of the ones he’s already been given. 

“Hi, Mr!” Y/n smiled as she sat down on her booth seat, her backpack placed on the table as she got comfortable. “I made you something.” 

“You did?” Bucky unpackaged her cake pop and placed it on a napkin, sliding it over to her along with her hot chocolate. “Careful it’s hot.” Bucky warned as Bub went straight for her drink the moment it was in her line of sight. 

“Otay.” She blew a breath onto the cup, though Bucky wasn’t sure how helpful her hot puff of air would be in cooling it down, instead pulling it back to himself and blowing cold air on it for her. “Here.” She placed a piece of paper onto the table. 

This picture wasn’t one from a colouring book, but one on regular plain paper, drawn by Y/n and coloured by her to. Two figures stood hand in hand with a box of crayons in the middle. One person was obviously Bucky, the other Y/n. Even if he couldn’t tell Bub had written their names “Mr” and “Bub” below each of their persons. “I love it.” Bucky smiled, sliding the, now less hot, hot chocolate back to Y/n, her taking a sip immediately and humming in content. “I’ll have to put in on my fridge.” He said aloud, though he meant to keep the words to himself, not sure if it was wrong to admit he had grown attached to Y/n enough to want her pictures on his fridge. 

“Really?” Her usually playful voice grew serious, her eyes filled with tears. “My drawing?” 

“Yeah, Bub.” He smiled, glad she seemed happy over the idea. “I have a few of your drawings on my fridge already.” He admitted. Before he could place it in his bag Y/n was up and out of her seat sliding into Bucky’s booth before wrapping her arms around him in a hug. “Oh.” Bucky lets out a surprised sigh. 

“I like you, you nice.” Y/n said as she pulled away, though didn’t leave the booth. 

“You’re nice too, Bub.” Bucky said in disbelief. He knew the two of them were making good steps towards fully being comfortable around one another, Y/n seemed to slip further and further into regression, showing she felt safe around Bucky, and she had even asked him if he was the Winter Soldier and hadn't run when he said yes. But he hadn’t expected her to feel comfortable enough to hug him, yet he wasn’t going to argue or complain. 

Y/n eyed his bag for a minute or so before asking a question. “Wha’s in your bag?” She asked, this being the first time she had truly seen it. 

“I’ll show you what’s in my bag, if you show me what’s in yours?” He offered, having been wondering what she brought with her to the cafe everyday. “Deal?” He asked, and she perked up, agreeing before sliding out and back onto her seat, something Bucky frowned at. 

“Otay!” Bub squealed, opening her green backpack before digging around a little bit. The first thing she pulled out was a small zipper pouch, the fabric printed with frogs and plants. “This has m’ keys, an’ my phone.” She pulled both out, her phone being secured in a bag inside her bag making sense as to why it took her so long to find it when her alarm went off. “An’ it has my tic tacs in it! D’ you wan’ one?” She asked with a smile, holding out tropical tic tacs to Bucky. 

“I’m okay, but thank you Bub.” He smiled, proud of her manners and willingness to share her things. He knew he couldn't take credit for her good behaviour, or her manners. She was a sweet girl even if he didn’t remind her here and there of her manners, yet he was still extremely proud of her. 

“M’kay.” Bub nodded her head, popping a few tic tacs in her mouth before moving on. “Dis, um, dis is my frog.” Bub’s once very confident attitude dulled slightly as she brought the frog stuffie out, like she was waiting for someone to say something rude. 

“He’s very cute.” Bucky reassured her, his hand brushing against the stuffed animal's foot, his fur in perfect condition. “What’s his name?” 

Y/n still seemed on alert, but opened up a little more. “I call him Green Bean.” She pats his head. 

“That’s a perfect name.” Bucky chuckles, loving how creative his Bub is. “Where did you get his outfit?” He asks, referring to the knitted overalls and t-shirt, identical to Y/n’s everyday outfit. 

“I made dem!” Bucky was happy to see her peppy spark come back as she spoke about her stuffy. Giving him the rundown on how she made them, and made clothing for all her other stuffies at home. Then she gave him the rundown on a bunny stuffie she really wanted that was identical to the one she has at home. Though “He’s no’ the same Mr! He’s a different colour!” something Bucky quickly made a mental note of. 

Bub only had her wallet and a sweater stuffed at the bottom of her bag, and a small bag of long forgotten goldfish that Bucky immediately threw out left to show. “Your turn.” Y/n reminded Bucky, gesturing to his backpack. 

“Well.” He started, opening his bag, pulling out his wallet, keys and phone. “These are the things I have on me at all times.” He said, watching Y/n pick up his keys and fiddle with them, clearly loving his accumulated keychain and key combo from the last 100 years. “Then I have a First Aid Kit.” He pulls out a bulky box, a few things banging around inside. 

“In case someone ge’s hurt?” Y/n asks, concern dripping from her expressions. 

“Exactly.” Bucky answers, though he doesn’t admit that he mainly carries it out of fear that he’ll hurt someone and need to patch them up, but he hopes that Y/n’s just thinking about scrapes and small cuts and not the carnage he’s left behind. 

“Do you have princess bandaids?” She asks with all seriousness. 

“I have princess ones, paw patrol, and starwars.” He playful one ups her, the two of them laughing before he continues. “Then I have extra crayons, colouring pages, and a couple water bottles.” He pulls out the extra things, Y/n’s hands immediately going to the colouring pages. 

“Can I do this one, please?” She asks, bouncing in her seat, her frog underneath her arm. 

“Of course, Bub.” He smiles, the frog page she chose the one he printed off last night in the hopes to give it to her. 

After the small show and tell the two of them sat together eating their cake pops and drinking their hot chocolate. Everytime he looked up Bucky realised just how lucky he was, to have found a Little who was as chill as Bub was, and as sweet as she was too. He realised that while he wished he could have met her sooner, he was happy he waited. 

“Why don’t we go to the park tomorrow?” He asked, thinking it could be good for them to get out somewhere other than just the cafe. 

“Yes!” Y/n practically jumped out of her seat at the idea, the two of them chatting about how excited they were for their adventure tomorrow.