#coffee's fics

[4acoffee]

You kiss Dan Heng so hard he thinks he's about to die, again.

It started out innocent, you swear you really didn't mean to go this far. Your relationship with Dan Heng has never been anything outside of a comfortable friendship, and you were fine with that.

It's only by chance that you find how easy it is to rile the poor boy up. The terribly endearing flush that never fails to spread over his handsome face when you tease him has you in a chokehold, and finding new ways to observe it up close has become something of your new favorite past time.

It's how you find yourself in his room, under the pretense of looking for a new book. Of course he doesn't buy a second of it, but he entertains you nonetheless. It's just by chance that you catch sight of the little sprig of mistletoe taped haphazardly to the top of one of his shelves.

It's by chance that the object of your recent affections was currently standing just under it — rambling away about some information he knew on whatever it was that you had pretended to be interested in.

You hesitate for hardly a moment before slyly moving your body so that Dan Heng is in-between you and the shelves. It doesn't take long for him to notice your sudden shift in moods and pause his speech.

He looks down at you through narrowed eyes. Granted, given his unfair height and build, it would not be difficult to get you to move —but something in the way you were looking at him gave him pause.

You’re much closer to him now, your nose in line with his chest and one hand resting beside him on the shelf, your own heart beating a little faster from nerves and the absurdity of what you were doing.

You can't help the wide grin that grown on your lips when he looks at you suspiciously, it only grows wider when you notice the tips of his ears already beginning to redden from the proximity.

You make a gesture with your eyes above his head.

"Look, Dan Heng."

He spares you another anxious look and tilts his head up, exposing the lovely expanse of his neck peeking out through the loose nightshirt he sported.

You swallowed deeply.

You watch as his eyes narrow further in confusion and then widen in startled understanding.

His eyes whip down to meet yours and sputters out your name in warning.

You smile wider, "Sorry, Dan Heng — you know the rules."

He mutters something disapproving and puts a hand on your arm to push you away — you grab his wrist instead and pull it closer, bringing Dan Heng down to you as well.

He makes a choked out noise as you both almost come nose to nose.

And there's that delightful scarlet blooming all over his cheeks. The one that makes you all giddy and content. You could stop now, you should stop now. Put an end to his misery and leave satisfied with your daily quota of a blushing Dan Heng.

But, you can't find it in yourself to pull away or let go.

He's stopped making an effort to get away from you as well, you realize.

And that's what stops you. Because here he is, - cold, stoic, serious, Dan Heng, — inches away from you, with flushed cheeks and wide eyes.

You almost startle, because it's not by chance when his eyes drop down to your lips, and you automatically do the same. Your breath hitches when he seems to unknowingly dip his head closer to you. You still in place and he notices, pausing as well and you see the shift when he's about to pull away, but you give up trying to be merciful, and surge up on your tip-toes, lips touching his clumsily to stop him.

He goes still as a statue against your lips, and you quickly get tired of stretching up to meet him, fisting his shirt in your free hand and pulling down so you can lean back on your heels.

He stumbles but comes down with you, carefully placing a hand on the back of your head.

You sigh and move your lips gently against his, it's messy, but you enjoy it so much more than you could have ever imagined.

His motions are slow and careful, and it makes your fingertips tighten over the books giving your support when he gingerly curls his long fingers into the strands of your hair.

Steadily, he grows more confident with his movements, his lips move against yours more smoothly, letting out a soft groan when you absentmindedly run your tongue over the seam of his lips.

He pulls you closer by the waist with a new fervor, flush against his body, you gasp in a breath when his tongue rolls over and around yours in your mouth, not seeming to mind that he's practically hunched over in half on top of you.

You nearly tremble with how messy and quick everything was moving, his hand moving up and down your back and both your hands now thrown over his shoulders, grasping at his soft hair.

Your breath catches in your throat when his teeth graze your lips, all too sharp and stinging more than should be normal — you pull back to see the prominent fangs glinting in the florescent lights of the archives — something that was very much not there when you first began making out with your quiet friend in the archives.

A shiver wracks through your body and your fingers pull at his hair just a little harder than before, he tips his head back again with a groan and you’re rewarded with the porcelain skin of his smooth neck once more.

You can't help but plant a kiss to the dip of his collarbones. His shoulders jolt in surprise and you take the encouragement to run your lips further up his neck, sucking and biting, reveling in the jolt that follows and fingers tightening over you every times.

You wait for the warning not to mark up his pretty skin where someone else could see, but it never comes and you take this as permission to take your sweet time leaving signs of your endeavors all over the broad expanse of his skin.

You almost whine when he tugs at your hair to pull you away from him, capturing the noise with his lips again as you fall back into a steady rhythm with each other.

Your more than happy to oblige, this new, feral side of your friend not something you were used to or expected, but were shamelessly basking in either way. Still, after some time, you can't ignore the ache in your legs from being pressed up to Dan Heng in one place for so long. So you pull back as much as you can in-between kisses and try to reason with him.

"Dan Heng—hah—m-my legs—ah—are gettn'—mpfh—tired."

He grumbles and straight up ignores you, continuing to ravage your lips. If anything he only grips you tighter.

Your whine and pull tighter at his hair to get him to listen.

"Dan Heng! Can we at least s - sit down, please?"

You stare up at him pleadingly and he let's out a noise of impatience. Huffing, he untangles his fingers from your hair and curls it around your thigh.

Startled, you can do nothing when he presses his lips to yours again and mutters out a, "jump" — pulling your leg up around his waist and hoisting your other up as well when you oblige.

His grip on you is dangerously nearing the point of no return and it only serves to make your heart beat faster and slant your lips deeper to his.

You were all too lost in the feeling that when the door to the archives suddenly opens, you do nothing but look up in a daze.

"Dan Heng!! have you seen —"

March, who had just barged into the room goes stock still in shock at the sight of you and Dan Heng wrapped up in each other.

Her face flushes at the scene and angrily mutters a series of complaints, slapping a hand over her eyes and desperately turning - practically running out of the archives — slamming the door behind her.

The hinges rattle from the force, the impact is enough to knock the already precariously placed mistletoe off the tape and it tumbles onto Dan Heng's head, — like a little tiara.

Flushed doesn't begin to describe the state he is in at this point. Dan Heng looks close to combusting into a nuclear explosions on the spot. You notice that in addition to the sharp teeth digging into his lips, his eyes have also begun to glow it that way you usually only see when he's in his vidyadhara form. His hair even has has tinges of green running through it on the inside. You wonder if he knows how he was changing — and it fills you with an absurd amount of smugness to know that you were able to elicit such a reaction from him.

He's still gripping you tightly, and he groans, shoving his burning face into crook of your neck in embarrassment.

...what now?

masterlist

#dan heng x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #dan heng #honkai star rail #inbibitor lunae #dan heng x you #dan heng il #hsr #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #dan heng x gn reader #coffee's fics #i wrote this in like an hour im so delulu im sorry everybody

[caffinatedstory]

Two Oceans

I won't say what date this ask if from... But finally got around to this one at least...

(AO3)

------------

"What's love?" Iceland enquires with a curious gaze up at his brother.

The question seems to take Norway by surprise.

The previous 30-50 questions Iceland had asked today had been more about why grass was green and the sky blue. Norway wasn't prepared for this sort of stuff.

He'd gotten away with blaming the gods for a lot of stuff too, but he didn't think that would work now.

"I'm..." he started then trailed off. Their walk through the fields came to a halt as well as Norway just could not think of an easy way to explain. "That's a very big question," he finally managed to say as he sat down in the grass.

Iceland happily sat next to him, tiny hand still clinging to Norway's tunic.

"I heard one of the men tell a poem to a lady, and she said she loved it," Iceland smiled.

"Yeah... Love comes in many shapes and forms," Norway nodded. He felt about 3000 years too young to explain this to a child, even if said child was as immortal as him.

"Is love nice?"

"It should be,"

"Is it warm?"

"Usually..."

"So love is like a warm stew?"

Norway laughed and ruffled Iceland's pale hair affectionately.

"Yeah, love is absolutely like a warm stew. Made by someone who really cares about you and want you to grow big and strong," he smiled warmly.

"But sometimes love is hot and scary and almost painful. Like a volcano bubbling up from the ground,"

Iceland nodded wordlessly. He seemed to be grasping the concept.

"Love is wanting to hug someone super close. But also maybe wanting to be left alone a little bit,"

"Like you do with Denmark?"

"Exactly."

"Is love sweet?"

"Sweet as mead and honey,"

"Love sounds nice," Iceland smiled.

"Yeah it is..." Norway nodded. "But it's complicated. You'll probably feel many different version of love as you grow older. We both will..."

"Sounds exciting!" Iceland hummed with a sence of glee that Norway could only describe as childlike.

"Love is absolutely exciting. And a little scary. Imagine wanting to do anything for the person you love! Some people even lose their minds to love,"

"Oh..."

"Love is a strong bond that can be impossible to break, like the fetters of Fenris. However, if done wrong then love can also dissappear as quickly as snow on water," Norway pointed toward the the ocean.

"Love can be as big as the ocean and as small as a raindrop. You can't really run out of love, but you can divide it in unequal parts..."

"So I can love someone a little and someone else a lot?"

"Yeah," Norway nodded, satisfied to some extent with his own wisdom he had now imparted on his brother.

"Well, then I think I love you as much as the ocean allows," Iceland smiled brightly.

"The whole ocean?" Norway grinned. "That's a lot of love..."

"Yes. But you said I couldn't run out of love,"

"And neither can I," Norway's grin turned into a warm smile as he pulled Iceland into a warm hug. "But I think I'm going to need two oceans to show you how much I love you."

Iceland giggled and hugged Norway tightly in return.

—---------------------

"What's this?" Norway points to a giant white plastic bag on Iceland's floor that contained what seems to be a whole lot of fabric, smiling ever so slightly as he does so.

"Nothing," Iceland replies a little too hastily, and shoves the bag behind his sofa. 

"Ah, so you're hiding nothing?" Norway chuckles and takes a step closer to the sofa. "Mind if I look at this 'nothing' then?" 

Iceland's cheeks redden and he appears to be contemplating what to do before he sighs in defeat and retrieves the bag, throwing it a little too violently at Norway.

"Whoa!" Norway laughs as he catches the bag, nearly toppling over at the sheer weigh . "Good thing I wasn't holding coffee! This thing could take even Denmark out. "

"Would have served you right," Iceland grumbles and averts his gaze to the floor.

"Your words wound me so," Norway replies flatly, as he peers into the bag.

His face contorting into a confused expression.

"What is this?" He asks as he slowly starts to pull out a quilted blanket.

"A quilt," Iceland replies coldly. "You've got eyes,"

"Yeah, I can see that but-" Norway's words trail off as he spots some familiar embroidery on one of the patches.

"Is this all your old clothes? The ones I made you?"

"Yeah," Iceland's gaze is still locked to the floor. "Felt wrong to just throw them away," he shrugs. "I've out grown them... But they're still, you know... Memories..."

Norway doesn't say anything else as he starts to unfold the quilt.

A beautiful and intricate image of the ocean lays in front of him, made up of lots of tiny bits of old clothes Iceland has worn though the ages.

Norway runs his hands over the waves in the image.

"Wow," he finally utters.

"Remember when I asked what love is?" Iceland asks softly, cheeks still red.

"Yeah, I do..." Norway smiles softly in return.

"Well... You're still my brother, and the ocean hasn't gotten smaller..." Iceland shifts his weigh from one leg to the other in a slow but nervous manner.

"Think it's gotten even bigger actually," Norway adds, hand still tracing the quilt pattern.

"It's really well made. Made with lots of love..."

"A whole ocean worth," Iceland mumbles.

"I think it might even be two,"

"Yeah," Iceland nods ever so slightly. "Definitely two whole oceans."

#hetalia #aph iceland #hws iceland #aph norway #Hws Iceland #Whale brothers #Coffee's fics #I'm going to find all my spelling mistakes tomorrow #But right now I'm too tired to find them #Also suffering from a nasty cold/flu #So you're getting what you're getting I'm afraid #Anyway... I love some cute fluffy moments between brothers #I hope this conveys it well enough

[dcxdpdabbles]

Danny, working as a cashier: Can I help you?

Tim half-deranged: Please I just want a cup of coffee

Danny squinted, then pulled out a binder: I'm sorry, sir, but you are on the Don't Serve Coffee list. I can offer you some tea instead-

Tim: NO. THIS IS THE FIFTH PLACE. BRUCE CAN'T OWN YOU ALL!

Danny leaning in to whisper: Look, man, I can't give you coffee under the cameras. Meet me in the back alley in twenty minutes and I'll get you a coffee. Bring Cash.

Tim: how much? Five hundred, six hundred or hell even a thousand? I'll bring whatever you want.

Danny: Chill dude, it's a cup of coffee. Three dollars is fine.

Tim: It's not just any coffee! It's my favorite brand and Bruce bought them out just to make sure they wouldn't sell to me anymore!

Danny: okay okay, this coffee means a lot to you. I get it. Twenty minutes alright?

Jason three weeks later in Bat cave: Tim's on drugs! I've caught him trading cash for small containers in a shady alley six times. We need an intervention.

Dick: What?! I thought that was his boyfriend!

Bruce: I also thought that was Tim boyfriend but if it's a drug dealer we have to help him.

Tim hiding in the shadows: shit.

Tim texting Danny: If anyone asks your my secret boyfriend who been making me teas in allies

Danny: who the hell would believe that? But I've had a boring week, so yeah, I'm down to be a pretend boyfriend.

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #From a fic i never wrote #Alley Boyfriends au #Danny is bored with life #Tim is desperate for his coffee #Misunderstandings #Dead Tired #Slow burn?? #the bats are worried

[gutsby]

Ruined!

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: Joel is an old man who struggles to cum sometimes. You’ve got time to kill and a tight hole to fill.

Warnings: 18+. Peepaw brainrot + a dash of anorgasmia. Unprotected p-in-v, cockwarming, age gap, daddy kink.

Note: Finals are whooping my ass left & right. This is a quickie.

Word count: 1.2k | Part of the Waiting Game ‘verse

Surely he was hurting you now.

Joel Miller had a kink for many, many fun activities, but splitting a sweet young thing like you over his cock to the point you were almost in tears was just not one of them.

At the same time your poor, surely-bruised walls pulsed around his hardened length, he felt a pang of guilt. His balls were pressed against your ass like two lead weights, soaked with the remains of your third release, and his mind was at war with itself—keep fucking you like this? Pull out and offer his sincerest apologies for not being able to cum? A boy your age would’ve never had you waiting around like that, aching around his cock, much less begging for something as simple as a cumshot.

He decided to go straight to the source. Leaning over your prone body on the bed before him, he was careful not to rut his hips or jostle his dick around too much.

Joel pressed a hot, stubbled kiss to your cheek, then:

“‘S’it too much, baby? She need a break, maybe?”

Joel thumbed at that space where your body ended and his began and nearly lost his mind to the pearly-white slick that had accumulated with time. Two hours time, he had to remind himself while you moaned and writhed and bucked your ass back. Your cunt was choking him.

Crying, too.

Your eyes flew open the moment his words reached you.

“You kiddin’ me, Miller?! I could do this shit all day.”

Sometimes Joel forgot you were only in your twenties. Really, the thought only occasionally crossed his mind in moments like these—or when your father, his best friend, happened to bring you up—but when it did, it hit him hard. You were young. Lively. Surely far too spry and full of life to be messing around with a man as old as him.

Joel’s guilt ran almost commensurate with his pleasure when he felt you anchor your feet on the bed and start to fuck yourself back and forth over his still-throbbing dick.

Almost.

He planted a hand beside your head and grinned. He let you fuck him. Felt you pull off, crawl up the bed a little, then beckon him back to your body, where your ass was now pointing up and your back was arched in invitation.

Almost.

“You know I can’t sleep without your cum inside me.”

And you made a point to spread your knees and look behind you with a smile as sweet as Milo’s tea, fingers drumming a beat against the bedspread in anticipation.

“You do wanna fill me up, don’t you, daddy?” you teased.

Yeah, no. The guilt was gone. Joel could worry about being a depraved old man when he was done cumming.

Then he was back inside you, driving his hips until every last inch of him was wrapped snug within your wet and velvety embrace, and he sighed. A real protracted one, like the kind he was liable to exhale after climbing two flights of stairs, or else just hoisting himself off the sofa. Or lifting you in his arms and fucking you hard against the hood of his Bronco. Any time. Any place. You were kind enough to oblige him with the best cardio of his life, so the least Joel could do now was make you cum again.

He snatched your hands up in one of his own and placed your wrists at the base of your spine. With his other, free set of fingers he took to rubbing your clit gently.

“SON OF A—”

“—good girl.”

You let out a bloodcurdling scream into your pillow and secretly hoped this man’s dick would never deflate again. Not with the way he was sawing his thing back and forth and dragging you to the edge, circling your clit like you were the single most precious thing in the world to him.

“Oh, sweet pea, I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

Like he could feel the tears staining the cushion himself.

“Mmrooonme,” you cried into it, voice garbled by cotton.

“What’s’at, honey? Can’t hear ya.”

Joel then bent at the waist, pretending to be leaning in to hear you better, when really he knew he’d be digging in your guts with that big, bulbous head of his and making you squeal again. Hands still held captive behind you, you inched your chin back on the pillow so your moans could be heard even louder while Joel sped up.

“You— ruined me,” you repeated. Now clear as ever.

Joel tried to hide his smile and glanced down between your body and his. Then, while his ring finger joined the other two to make their tight, light circles, he returned,

“Ruined? Pussy feels just fine t’me.”

You’d kill him if he wasn’t so good at this. You turned your head more to meet his eyes from the corner of yours.

“No. Ruined me. For anyone else.”

Probably forever.

“Good.”

You knew he liked it that way.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The hefty, broad, and greying Joel Miller had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

First, his arms came to rest on either side of your body.

“Shit,” you whimpered.

Next, his lips went trailing down to your ear.

“Just a little more, sugar—that’s it,” he murmured while his hips sank in, and you felt that big, delicious stretch.

Then he released your hands so they were free to squeeze the sheets, and when they did, his moved over them—lacing his fingers through your own—and his lips pressed a kiss to your jaw. He held you in a tender grasp. His breath was hot on your neck, and the whole of his body was blanketing yours. Joel knew you liked it like that, which is why he made sure not to leave an inch of space in between. He was grunting, rutting, holding you close while his cock drilled a maddening pace inside you.

“You ruined me too, y’know,” he mumbled into your skin.

His nose was flush with the side of your cheek, nudging inward. Begging you to turn your head just a little more so he could kiss you. Weak as you were, you obliged.

And you moaned against that grey, stubbled chin of his when the thrusts above you had your cunt grinding the bed, rubbing that soft and helpless nub on the sheets.

“C’mon— let daddy have it,” he growled, “Let daddy have it and make it his, huh? That okay by you, baby?”

It was.

More than okay, as confirmed by the orgasm that tore through your body moments later while your teeth sank into the flesh of Joel’s lower lip and your cunt clenched and soaked over him whole. Joel wedged his tongue in your mouth and fucked you through it. His broad and callused hands were like iron around your own, holding you tight and keeping you still amidst a maelstrom of pleasure that combed over your every last nerve.

He licked into your mouth. Licked over it. Took the sick and distinct pleasure of knowing no one but him got to see you like this, with your jaw hanging slack and your eyes rolling back and your whines repeating quietly, ‘Daddydaddypleasedaddyfuckohfuckdontstop.’

Maybe ruined wasn’t such a bad thing to be at all.

#NOBODY SPEAK TO ME UNTIL I’VE HAD MY MORNING COFFEE #AND BY MORNING COFFEE I MEAN THIS MAN’S LOAD IN MY MOUTH #PREFERABLY FOLLOWED BY AN OLD FASHIONED #joel miller smut #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #tlou #the last of us fic #joel miller x you

[idliketobeatree]

listening to Too Sweet for the first time and, damn, Crowley never got his flat back, did he? can't believe he's been crashing on Hozier's couch all this time drinking booze and waxing lamentations about his angel. strange world we live in

#hozier #crowley #good omens #ineffable husbands #but for real. this man is insane “you treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate” how do i keep going with my life after this line. #he'll take his whiskey neat his coffee black and his bed at three? 'kay. #i'll never write good omens fics or poetry half as good as this fucker (affectionate) #anthony j crowley #music #unheard ep #too sweet #marcela talks

[yandere-romanticaa]

⚘ 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞.

m. - "forevermore" typically refers to something that lasts for an indefinite amount of time or for eternity. it implies a sense of permanence or lastingness.

You've ran away from your husband, the 11th Fatui Harbinger, Tartaglia himself. However, have you truly escaped his grasp?

yandere! tartaglia x fem! reader.

The shimmering rays of bright morning sunlight made the living room come to life as you sat in a classic wooden chair, a steaming cup of tea in your hand. It burned your fingers ever so slightly but you could not be bothered to remove them from the cup.

The pain made you not focus on the massive bouquet of flowers which were placed on your pretty white table.

From the corner of your vision, you could see the card which clung onto the fresh bunch of blooms, the handwriting on it disgustingly elaborate but oh so familiar.

"Blood red roses." The card said.

"I always knew that you fancied roses, and I couldn't resist to get you these specific ones when I saw you looking at them."

Bastard. How he had managed to track you all the way to Mondstatd was beyond your comprehension, but in hindsight, you really should have known better. The Fatui could sneak in anywhere they damn well pleased, be it the hustle and bustle of the city of Mondstatd, to the dirty cracks of the Chasm.

It was only natural that the many agents which were stationed in the city would start to talk upon seeing the wife of a Lord Harbinger so far from home.

You concealed yourself at first, obviously. Most unfortunately, word started to spread like wildfire that you had fled in the dead of night, never to be seen by anyone. And, due to the fact that your husband did not possess a single shred of decency in his body, he proudly showed you off wherever he could.

Just the mere thought of the memory made you shudder.

Your good husband was - is - a wealthy man. He made sure to spoil you in the finest of silks known to man and the endless sea of jewelry which was sent your way, if it were to be sold, could feed an entire army.

Although, he was always particular about your arms. He didn't like seeing anything on them except for the, surprisingly, simple wedding ring he got you.

It was a promise, he had told you.

His eternal promise to you, until the end of time. He would love you, in sickness and in health, there was no force in the universe that could separate him from you.

In a way, he was keeping his promise. He made the trip from the homeland straight to the City of Freedom all on his own.

... He probably didn't even need to hear the reports from anyone of your whereabouts. Knowing him, he tracked you down all on his own, using nothing but his wit and sharp senses.

He was a terrifying man. A man you ought to stay away from, a man who had the blood of countless innocent people on his hand. And yet, those same hands would keep you warm during the cold winter, his soft and pale lips would pepper your body with gentle kisses, making you feel as if you were the most beautiful woman in the universe.

Archons, he'd whisper to himself, his breath hot on your neck, making you blush. He would just say whatever came to mind, completely lost in his blind passion.

I want no one else but you - You are my everything - I will make you mine -

Frankly, you did not know how to feel. In those private moments he was less a man and more a lovesick little fool. He could not keep his paws off you, even if he wanted to. As the evening would go on the kisses would evolve into something more, something primal, carnal even. Tongue and teeth would mesh together, leaving a thick string of saliva between him and you, to which he would always let out that darling boyish laugh of his.

You loathed the fact that in those moments, he truly was ethereal, no different than a star.

What made your skin crawl was the effect his touch had on your mind and body. He became something akin to a drug, even now as you felt the sweetness of freedom with your own two hands you still felt the urge to hold something tight at night because your husband had spoiled you rotten with his presence.

Finally, you turned to look at the flowers as the horrible realization dawned on you - you loved him. You loved that man and it was putrid.

You cannot go back. You would not go back to him.

Jumping off a building would be a smarter thing to do.

As you pondered on and on about your predicament, you failed to notice the lingering shadow in your hallway. Deep blue eyes monitored you like a hawk as he toyed with a switchblade he had in his pocket. What should he do with you? He was furious, naturally. You were the last person in the world he wanted discord with. You broke his heart a little when you left and the fact that you didn't even care about his feelings only added insult to injury.

Even so, he could not help but to feel overjoyed by the fact that you hadn't thrown out his gift. He was half expecting you to burn whatever he sent you to the ground, not to mournfully contemplate in deep thought like this.

That was how he knew you loved him. It was crooked and wrong, but he had you. He had you and you didn't even know it. He'd bring down the heavens themselves if it meant that you could feel a fraction of the love he held for you. His lips curled into a sly grin but his heart pounded like clockwork in his chest. This waiting game was so horrible.

But the hunter in him couldn't resist, cornering you like this was just in his nature.

Victory was so close, he could practically taste it. Soon enough, his wife would be in his arms, weeping and apologizing and he would soothe her, like a good husband ought to. Yes, that was how this scenario would play out.

He was too clever to let it happen any other way.

It would be just him and you, perhaps even with a bundle of joy if the Tsaritsa blessed him. Even so, with you here, he had everything he could ever dream of.

Him and you, against the world, standing by each other's side, forevermore.

💋 TAGLIST: @genshinarchives, @saturnalya @mod-kisa-blog, @juuuuuj101010, @alatusprinz @kalopses-sonderes, @b10h4z4rd, @lakxcpsta @xiaopleasecomehome, @mayulli, @cc-6789, @mewmeowmika, @ranposgirlboss, @goldenglow149

This fic was born out of my own pure passion and love for Tartaglia, apologies for the Cringe™ I put you all through.

#coffee shop fics just hit DIFFERENT #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yancore #yanderecore #yandere aesthetic #genshin impact #childe #childe x reader #yandere childe #yandere childe x reader #tartaglia #yandere tartaglia #childe tartagalia #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #genshin harbingers #genshin x reader #genshin x you #yandere male

[lolorenoca]

waiter !! waiter !! more yuri please !!

#lynnmanda #shotgunshipping #saw #saw iii #amanda young #lynn denlon #jogos mortais #my art #sketch #coffee and lynnmanda fics are the only thing keeping me going these last few weeks/hj

[angelofsmalldeath-codeine]

No crumbs left.

#hozier is gorgeous #andrew byrne hozier #hozier #what would we do without hozier lyrics in fic titles? #what would we do without hozier’s songs for PP TikTok edits? #i want my whiskyyyy neeeeeeeat my coffee black and my beeed at threeeee

[chronicowboy]

Buck doesn't know how long they sit there in that café just talking. He's never had that before. The last time he'd done this, sat across from Natalia in the midday sun, he'd been excruciatingly aware of every passing minute as he tried to be fascinating to her, spun yarns of deaths and near-deaths and deathly comas. Here, now, Buck just exists and that seems to be more than enough for Tommy.

Tommy who hangs on his every word like Buck is the next Shakespeare even as he's rambling about rainbow emojis and allyship. Tommy whose smile is so big and wide that it carves the most beautiful caverns into his face that Buck kind of wants to live in. Tommy who grimaces every time he sips the coffee Buck bought him but dutifully drinks the whole thing over the course of their date even when Buck tells him he doesn't have to. Tommy who keeps muffling yawns into his fist every five minutes having just gotten off a twenty-four hour shift like he'd stay in that uncomfortable metal seat forever if he could.

It's the best second date of his life, so when Buck tells him to go home and get some sleep, he doesn't resist the urge to prolong the date for the few moments it takes him to walk Tommy to his car. With anyone else, so soon into whatever this might turn out to be, Buck would worry that it's too much too soon. But Tommy has been so loud in his affection even with how gentle he's made sure to stay. Buck wants to be as free in his wanting as Tommy as is, so he reaches out and slips his fingers between Tommy's, damn near euphoric when they begin to swing between them as they walk.

It takes a moment to drag his eyes up to Tommy's face, caught up in the feeling of a hand in his. It's not the first time he's held a hand, far from it. Not even the first time he's held a man's hand. But this isn't Eddie letting him squeeze his fingers as he screams in pain. This isn't Taylor indulging him every now and then. This is Tommy smiling softly down at their hands like he's as mesmerised by it as Buck is, the tips of his ears growing pink and sending a giddy thrill of satisfaction through him.

"Can I ask you something?" Tommy says, giving Buck's hand a happy little squeeze.

"Don't think there's a limit on second date questions," Buck replies.

"Evan." And, Jesus, there's something about the way Tommy says his name. Even when it's that chiding little tone that should remind him of his parents, all he feels is an overwhelming warmth, all he can hear is fondness.

"Of course you can." Buck grins and watches Tommy's smile crinkle his face all over again like he just can't help it.

"Why'd you choose that abomination of a coffee for me?" And Buck groans just to hear Tommy laugh. "Really? What even was that?"

"Black coffee four sugars," Buck mumbles, kicking a stone across the sidewalk sheepishly.

"Jesus, Evan." Tommy's laugh is something special, loud and unrestrained and the sound of sunshine maybe. "Why?"

"I-I don't know, I panicked!" Buck doesn't realise he's drifting away from Tommy until the man pulls him back in by their joined hands, and Buck lets the bump of their shoulders calm him. "Just thought, you know..." Buck turns towards Tommy's car, but Tommy drags him gently towards the Jeep, leaning against the door when they reach it.

"You just thought..."

"I don't know." He shrugs, heat rising to his cheeks under the weight of Tommy's bright-eyed attention, lowers his voice all the way. "It reminded me of you."

"What was that?" Tommy grins, using the excuse to move in a little closer.

"It reminded me of you," Buck repeats, clearer this time, more confident. "You know, bit foreboding on the outside, but all sweet on the inside."

"Christ, you really are adorable," Tommy breathes, sounding as effected as Buck feels.

A kaleidoscope of butterflies swarms in his stomach, delightfully unfamiliar to him but already intoxicating, almost addicting.

It's not two men stood on a busy sidewalk in the middle of the day then. It's just Buck and someone he really fucking likes, someone he hasn't been able to stop thinking about for a week, someone he's only kissed once somehow. And suddenly that's a fact that absolutely should be rectified.

Buck steps forward, leaning up just ever so slightly on his toes, and kisses Tommy right there in the middle of LA. And it just feels right. Overwhelming in the best of ways. It's a quick press of lips, something more suited to the schoolboy he feels than the very adult man he is, not the kiss he wants but the kiss they both need. Chaste and lovely. A hello again. A beginning.

Tommy's free hand ghosts against his jaw, a flutter of a touch as Buck falls back onto his heels and takes a breath. It takes Tommy a few moments to open his eyes which means Buck gets to watch them flutter open, dazed and delighted.

"Get some sleep, Tommy," Buck tells him, finally letting go of his hand with a squeeze. "Text me when you wake up."

"Yessir," Tommy murmurs.

And Buck can't resist another kiss then, just as quick and chaste, anything else dangerous to Buck's self-restraint, before he unlocks the Jeep and climbs in. Tommy waves him off, and Buck glances back just in time to see Tommy's hand falling down to his lips as if to chase Buck's touch.

#sami rambles #i had lots of feelings about the coffee order #this is for elke <33333 #the amount of inspiration ive got from our silly little dms.... #911 show #evan buckley #tommy kinard #bucktommy #buck x tommy #911 fic #911 ficlet #bucktommy fic #buck x tommy fic #bucktommy ficlet

[turtleinsoup]

(I miss you when we don't hang out at night)

(the lemonade leak on ao3)

#Donnie drinking coffee to stay awake #they're both a little fucked up but they make it a competition #rottmnt the lemonade leak #rottmnt lemonade leak #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt leo #rise of the tmnt #rottmnt #tmnt 2018 #rottmnt fic #tmnt #rottmnt au #rise tmnt #rise leo #rise donnie #rottmnt disaster twins #rottmnt fanart #rise of tmnt #rottmnt leonardo #rottmnt twins

[bleedingoptimism]

It’s a little after eleven when Eddie finally manages to get Tarja to bed. It’s hard for her without her plushie. And really, Eddie is very thankful having a hyper-fixation with her toy seems to be the only ‘consequence’ of having divorced parents Tarja seems to have right now. He always worries if having two homes and constantly moving between them is good for her or not. Especially with Tommy being Tarja’s other dad, but against all odds, he’s good to her. So their kid is doing just fine. She’s happy. And if she’s happy, Eddie is happy.

He’s getting ready to open a beer and relax when there’s a knock on the door. He smiles, assuming is Steve bringing Toothless over and almost knocks his beer to the floor when he opens the door.

Steve looks… well he looks amazing, dressed to the nines. Must’ve been date night. But his eyes are red and puffy, his face covered in dark blotches, and his lips are swollen like he’s been biting them too much.

He’s hugging Toothless to his chest and he smiles at Eddie when he sees him, but he looks so sad it breaks his heart.

Eddie throws the beer behind him, sure it will land on the couch and cradles Steve’s face between his hands, “What did that asshole do?

Steve leans into his touch and shuts his eyes for a moment before sighing and stepping away from him, walking inside and sitting on the couch still holding Toothless like a lifeline. 

“Nothing, he was just-” Steve shakes his head and chuckles darkly, “He’s just so mean,” 

Eddie drops to his knees in front of him and dips his head to look Steve in the eye just like he did that day in the park.

“Break up with him,” he says.

“I can’t.”

“Tommy doesn't deserve you, Steve. You are worth so much more than what that asshole makes you feel. You deserve better. More. Everything,” Eddie pleads, placing his hands on Steve’s knees and squeezing, “If it’s because of Tarja, we’ll figure something out, ok? Lots of people keep in contact with their parent’s significant other after they break up” He rushes, the speech he didn't have quite prepared last week coming out of him in a single breath, “We are friends, right? So you can still visit and see her. Visit me. You don’t have to stop being a part of our lives.” 

Steve is staring at him right now like Eddie just gifted him the moon and he’s so beautiful it’s kind of hard for Eddie to keep eye contact, but he squeezes Steve’s knees again to ground himself and does. Steve needs to know he’s very serious about this. About him.

Eyes shining, Steve takes a deep breath and nods slowly, a tear falling down his cheek that Eddie follows with his eyes and watches until it hides under Steve’s v-neck shirt.

“Hey, even I didn’t put up with Tommy's shit for Tarja’s sake and I birthed her,” he jokes awkwardly, trying to make him laugh and feels like doing a little victory dance when Steve snorts cutely,

“Okay,” he hiccups.

“Yeah?” Eddie smiles back at him, relieved.

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “Fuck Tommy.” And drops back on the couch, looking exhausted, “Can I stay here tonight?” he asks in a whisper, like he’s afraid Eddie will say no. As if.

“Yeah, of course,” Is what he answers, and has half a mind to invite him into his bed but knows it’s a terrible idea. So he lends Steve his favorite flannel pajamas and sets blankets and a pillow on the couch and they say their goodnights.

And if he does a little dance when he closes the door to his room, no one is there to see.

In the morning, Steve stays for breakfast. And attempts to kill Eddie by making his heart explode, cooking it himself from scratch with Tarja’s help, who is so happy she won’t stop running around the kitchen making Toothless fly and sing about ‘happy family breakfast time’.

It’s actually hard to tell if she’s happier to have her plushie back or that Steve is there. Eddie, on the other hand, knows exactly what he’s happiest about. Death by tenderness. Is that a thing? He amuses himself thinking about a couple csi’s with sunglasses saying it, 

“He died because he witnessed something too cute,”

“Ah yes, death by fondness. I’ve seen it before.”

After, Eddie walks him to the door and Steve smiles sweetly at him, and holds his hand, squeezing it once before letting go, “Well, see you. I guess,” he says bashfully and there’s a moment there, a second where time stops and Eddie thinks he should kiss him. Wants to kiss him, needs to kiss him.

But he doesn’t. Because Steve is still dating Tommy, and just because he said he was going to break up with him doesn’t mean he wants to start something new with Eddie.

Eddie himself called him his friend for the first time last night for christ sake. ‘Fucking chill’ he thinks to himself.

🧸

And then a week goes by without hearing a word from Steve. But Eddie doesn't hold it against him.

At first, he figures he needs time to think but then he starts to wonder if he really is going to break up with Tommy. Four days in, he gets paranoid about it. Maybe Steve got brainwashed into thinking Eddie is bad for him. Maybe Tommy told him Eddie was putting ideas in his head, that he shouldn’t talk to him anymore… With him telling Steve to break up with his boyfriend and all... 

He’s well aware of how manipulative Tommy can be and has seen the way he belittles Steve to keep him around, so he knows it’ll be hard for Steve to actually go through with it.

And he can’t exactly show up at Tommy’s and steal Steve away, no matter how appealing the idea might be. The only thing he can do is just think of Steve, wish him well, and send him strength to do what he needs to do. At the end of the day, it needs to be his decision. His choice.

As Tommy’s week with Tarja approaches he starts getting more and more anxious, wondering if it’ll be Steve or Tommy who picks her up.

When the day finally arrives, and the doorbell rings, Tarja runs to open the door and Eddie peeks his head through the hallway.

“Daddy!” Tarja screams.

“Hey, Tata! You ready?” Tommy says and Eddie steps into the hall to greet him too.

“Not yet!” Tarja chuckles and Tommy smiles at her,

“Okay, go get ready. I’ll wait here,”

Eddie walks to the door and leans on the doorframe, “Hey,”

“Hi. Long time no see,” Tommy says and then adds, “You look great,”

“You don’t,” Eddie answers, because it’s true. He looks like shit. Greasy hair, bags under his eyes, chapped lips, wrinkles on his clothes, “What happened?”

“Steve broke up with me.” 

Eddie’s eyes go wide and he smiles, he doesn’t even try to hide it, “He did?”

“Don’t smile, fucker,” Tommy says but there’s no heat behind it. He knows he deserves it.

“Sorry,” Eddie says, not sorry at all.

“Stop,” Tommy whines because Eddie’s smile is actually getting bigger,

“Sorry,” he repeats and then clears his throat, “Did he tell you why?”

“Because I’m a horrible person,” Tommy groans.

“Hey, the first step is to ad-”

“To admit it, yeah, yeah. I know” Tommy interrupts him, groaning again.

Eddie sighs, and punches Tommy’s shoulder lightly, “Look, Tommy, I’m just going to say this because, well… you are pathetic. You need to do better.” And then he points to his back, to where Tarja’s disappeared to get her stuff, “She’s going to grow up and realize you are an awful person and she’s not going to want you in her life. And I’m not going to dissuade her from it, because I already don’t want you to be in mine, you know that, right?”

Tommy looks at him seriously and then nods once, fast and hard. Like he gets it. Like he agrees and is determined to change. And Eddie hopes for Tarja’s sake he is. But knows, deep in his heart, that either way, she’s going to be fine.

“Also, just a heads up. I’m in love with Steve and I’m going to ask him out,” he adds in a rush when he hears Tarja running up behind him.

“You are shitting me,” Tommy whispers, shocked and clenching his teeth.

Eddie laughs, “Nope,” he says, closing his lips loudly around the P.

“Eddie,” Tommy warns him like he’s waiting for Eddie to say he's joking.

“What? I hear he’s single,” Eddie smirks.

“You motherfuc- Hey Tata!” Gathering Tarja in his arms, Tommy drops the subject but he glares at Eddie as he kisses Tarja’s cheek goodbye and murmurs ‘unbelievable’ as he’s leaving. Eddie closes the door and starts laughing at the look on Tommy’s face.

He needs to call Steve.

He tries a couple of times but he doesn’t pick up and he starts worrying Steve might not actually want to talk to him, and then there’s a knock on the door but Eddie, too preoccupied with his anxiety, opens without looking, thinking Tarja forgot something.

When he doesn't hear her, Eddie looks up from his ‘ignored calls’ screen to see nonother than Steve standing there, looking nervous and like a fucking dream with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. A fucking bouquet of flowers. For him. For Eddie. All different shades of red, because he knows is his favorite color.

Eddie just blinks at him a couple of times and Steve flushes even more and drops the hand holding up the flowers, scratches the back of his neck nervously, “This was stupid, the flowers were fucking stupid. They are stupid. I’m stupid, right?”

A laugh bubbles out of Eddie and he grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and pulls him inside. He closes the door once they are both in and slams Steve against it, crushing their lips together. Steve circles his arms around Eddie and holds him close, instantly returning the kiss with fervor. 

They kiss as if it were fate. They kiss until it's hard to breathe and Eddie pulls away only to kiss him again, and again, and again.

“Not stupid,” he murmurs between kisses and feels Steve’s smile against his lips.

Eventually, Eddie takes a step back and lets Steve into his home properly, “Hi,” he says cheesily.

“Hi,” Steve says back grinning, then he lifts up the bouquet again, which is now completely ruined by him still holding it strongly while they made out like crazy, and his smile drops,

“Shit,” he pouts cutely, god Eddie wants to eat him. He laughs and takes the flowers anyway, putting them in an empty glass bottle, because he doesn’t own a flower vase, because he’s a normal human being. ‘Who the fuck owns a flower vase?’

“Come here,” he says, holding out both hands for Steve to take and follow him.

Steve takes his hands but doesn't move, instead swings them from side to side, “Wait, let's talk,”

Fuck, yeah. They should. That’s a good idea. Fuck. Damn, Steven Whatever-The-Fuck-Is-His-Middle-Name Harrington and his sensible and very logical choice…

Eddie huffs exaggeratedly making Steve chuckle and redirects them to the couch, where they sit still holding hands, “Alas,” he says dramatically, “You are right, we should talk. I actually wanted to ask you out properly, not debauch you the second you walked through the door. Sorry about that” he lies, not sorry at all, again.

Steve blushes and smiles, drawing little circles with his thumbs on Eddie’s hands, “Yeah me too. I wanna do this right. Ask you out. Go on dates. I think we should take this slow,”

Eddie makes a face and groans at that. He doesn't want to take it slow. He wants Steve to move in right now or something. Steve rolls his eyes amused at his interruption and keeps going,

“I came here to ask you out the right way because I want you to know I’m committed. But we should think about how this will affect Tarja… and Tommy too. We should go out a few times, spend some time alone, and I want you to meet my friends and my parents and I want to meet your friends and your uncle too and just do this properly and-”

Eddie interrupts him with a kiss, he can’t take it anymore, he’s been dying to kiss Steve for months now and he’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes Eddie insane, makes him feel like he needs to ruin him, but in a nice way, like with devotion and love.

Steve lets go of his hands to wrap his arms around Eddie’s waist and hoists him until he’s straddling Steve. Eddie leans his elbows on Steve’s shoulders, and buries his hands in his hair, pulling and messing with it.

“Okay but have you considered having hard, hot, wet sex, and then maybe we do what you said?” He asks panting against Steve’s lips and actually feeling how that punches the air out of him.

He hugs Eddie closer to his chest and whines, “Yeah okay, we can do it your way,” and gets up, lifting Eddie with him as if he were weightless. Eddie squawks and laughs all the way to his room.

🧸

They spend the week together, talking, eating, drinking, laughing and fucking. Except it’s more than that because when Eddie is inside Steve, with his tongue, his fingers, or his strap, it feels like more. It feels like love. Like fate.

Steve, still determined to take things slow, doesn’t stay there all the time, going back to Robin’s where he moved back to after breaking up with Tommy. He actually brings her over one day and the three of them spend the afternoon together. Eddie decides they are going to be best friends immediately because Robin is hilarious and merciless. When Steve gets back the next day he kisses Eddie so good and hard his knees almost give out on him and tells him he has Robin’s seal of approval. Something he knows Tommy never got.

When the week passes Eddie says goodbye theatrically as if they were cross-star lovers in a bad soap opera and Steve chuckles and calls him ridiculous but kisses him so passionately that Eddie drags him right back inside and they say goodbye again a few hours later.

They had decided to wait until Eddie talked to Tarja about her feelings over Tommy’s and Steve’s breakup and whether she still wanted Steve around or not before having him over again.

But when Tarja gets back home she’s gloomy and silent. She hugs Eddie in greeting when she arrives and then spends the rest of the day lying face down on the floor and occasionally sighing loudly, obviously trying to make Eddie ask her what’s wrong.

And really, Eddie shouldn't find it as funny as he does, but he thinks about calling Wayne and telling him he gets it now when Wayne used to tell him he had too much personality.

Eventually, he lies on the floor next to her and asks. Tarja looks at him with big sad eyes and says, “I haven't seen Steve in a million years! And Daddy said he is not his boyfriend anymore! So I’ll never see him again and I miss him”

Eddie coos at her, “I’m sorry you miss him little dragon, but you can totally see him again! Would you like me to call him? Since he’s my friend too?” Already trying to strategize on how to tell her they are more than friends.

Tarja lights up and jumps off the floor and onto Eddie, punching the breath out of him, “Yes! Yes! Call Steve! Steve smiles more when he’s with you than he did with daddy anyway. Why don’t you boyfriend him instead?”

Well… that was easy.

He chuckles and shakes his head, “That’s a great idea sweety, go grab my phone,”

Tarja runs and grabs Eddie’s phone off the table and hands it to him, he doesn’t bother getting off the floor so she kneels beside him listening attentively as he dials Steve’s number. 

“Hi, handsome, you talked with Tarja already?” Steve greets him after it rings twice.

“Yeah about that, turns out Tarja talked to me, actually,” he chuckles, “Hi, by the way”

“Hi,” Steve repeats lovingly and laughs, “What do you mean?”

“She had this awesome idea!” he says winking at her and she covers her mouth with her tiny hands to hide her giggles, “That, since you are not with Tommy anymore, you should be my boyfriend instead,” he continues, voice going soft and chuckles when he hears Steve's breathless ‘oh’ on the other side of the line, “Come over?”

“Of course, gimme an hour? I'm with a client” Steve hums and Eddie whispers he’ll give him anything he asks for and hangs up.

An hour later Tarja is still lying on the floor, only now it’s with papers and crayons spread all around her when the doorbell rings. She looks up at Eddie excitedly and he nods at her, “Go on then”

Tarja runs to the door and opens it wide to reveal Steve standing there as beautiful as ever, giving Eddie a deja vu of the first time he saw him.

“Papa Steve!” Tarja yells and jumps up to hug him.

Steve gasps and falls to his knees with her in his arms and looks up at Eddie with shocked wet eyes.

‘So much for taking it slow,’ Eddie thinks with a smirk.

Fin.

☝️first part

☕🥐💕?

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans eddie munson #kid fic #i wrote something #i keep thinking about #you know how kid memories are weird and warped in your minds #i keep thinking about tarja being very much convinced that she is the one who got them to date just cause she suggested it to eddie #when she's older i mean #like they cannon convince her other wise she soooooo sure cause she perfectly remembers telling eddie to 'boyfriend' steve and that they #were not together before that #steve and robin think its hilarious #eddie hates giving her the credit #dunno if tommy gets a redemption ark but i imagine tarja and him have coffee from time to time and they catch up on their lives. #and tarja rolls her eyes a lot at him but he's not as bad as he used to be #its mostly like 'yeah yeah dad im sure tthings were different in your time sure'

[4acoffee]

Prompt: “Am I a hero or the devil’s son? Can’t figure out what side I’m on.”

pairing. todoroki x reader

word count. ~900

genre & warnings. fluff, insecure todoroki, comfort

notes. here have this edited repost of an old drabble i did a while while back... mans so difficult to write for but so gorgeous he's a trap in every sense i swear. only i would suffer stiff shoulders the rest of my life for him anyway <3

The steady hum of the air conditioner running at full speed filled the air and left your skin pleasantly chilled. Your room was dark, long curtains draped over your windows, and the soft plush of the mattress covers under you were steadily making your eyes more and more difficult to keep open.

You could have fallen asleep so easily, if it weren’t for the warm body currently pressed gently to your side.

Earlier, UA's resident pretty boy, Shoto Todoroki, had unexpectedly turned up at your room, head hanging almost sheepishly, and asking in his soft, world-peace-fostering voice if he could come in.

And although it wasn’t out of the ordinary to find him hanging around your room at the dorms, he was generally always accompanied by Midoriya, or Iida. Your cozy little room was somewhat of a designated rest area for your friend group with your extra pillows and blankets, and the fluffy pink beanbag that Uraraka often curled up on.

Which is why you peeked behind him uncertainly at the empty space in the hall, but let him in nonetheless.

When he had seated himself comfortably on your bed, you attempted to ask him if everything was ok, and the only answer you received was a simple nod.

He looked exhausted. While the young hero was not as volatile as one particular blonde classmate you have, you know he still struggles to express himself easily. You figured he would open up to you in his own time if he really wanted to. So you decided not to prod and plopped down on the bed next to him, doing your best to ignore the way your heart started to race against your will at the proximity.

As you messed around on your phone, over the course of an hour, you came to the sudden realization that the two of you had unconsciously gravitated towards each other. Soon, your legs were curled up to your chest, with one hand gripping your phone, and the other getting sore because of the deceivingly heavy head of silky half and half hair now resting, frankly, uncomfortably on your shoulder.

You would have believed he was asleep with how quiet and still he was being, but his fidgeting hands on the cotton of your oversized shirt proved that he was still awake.

Besides the coma inducing fact that his mindless fussing was making your top steadily reveal the skin of your stomach, even in your groggy state you could practically feel the current of thoughts plaguing Todoroki.

He radiated something anxious and tired at the same time, and you couldn’t help but steal glances at him to try and gauge what he was thinking.

Just when you figured that maybe you’ll never truly figure out the mystery that was Shoto Todoroki, his hands stilled, and he said something so softly you struggled to hear.

“...am I a bad person?”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion. Did you hear him correctly?

You tilted your head at him and hummed in question.

He sighed deeply and you watched as his lovely heterochromatic eyes turned dark and sad.

“I’m trying my best to be the hero I always wanted to be as a child, but sometimes I wonder if I actually deserve to be here. My family has been through so much trouble because of me. Mom is in the hospital because she always had to protect me from him, Touya left because I had to be better than he could be, Fuyumi and Natsuro, father always neglected them because of me. It’s my fault that we couldn’t be a normal family. My fault the we can’t be together. All the time, I see real families, happy families around me, that need protecting — and I can’t help but think, — do I really deserve to be the one protecting them? If I can’t even keep my own family safe, do I really deserve to call myself a hero? Hero’s are supposed to be good, — am I good?”

You listened in astonishment as he rattled of reasons why he was a shitty person. His speach trailed into mutters and slurred words that you could barely put together. He sounded like he was barely concious and you think that at this point, he was more talking to himself.

In his sleepy rant of self-deprivation you did catch one thing as he buried his head further into your shoulder.

“Am I a hero or the devil’s son? I can’t figure out what side I’m on.” He said, dead serious.

A sputtered laugh was the only response you could muster, why did he have to be so dramatic sometimes?

He narrowed his eyes in indignation at your laughter and looked up at you through his lashes. You grinned apolagetically. “Sorry Todoroki, I didn’t mean it like that.”

You shifted to face him better, “It’s just — none of that is your fault. You know that right? No, clearly you didn’t know that or we wouldn’t be here.” You said, and he pouted further.

“It doesn’t matter what your past was like, we’ve all done some bad things in our lives, and what happened to you was completely out of your control. Just because you made some mistakes, doesn’t make you any less of a capable hero than any of us. In fact, it makes you better, because you know what there is to lose.” You reassured him.

He looked at you carefully, “Oh, you really think so?” he asked you, so hopefully you swore you felt a part of you melt.

“Of course” you told him, he spared you a soft smile.

You smiled back and nudged him playfully, “Now if your done moping, could you get off my shoulder, — I lost feeling in it hours ago.”

Masterlist

#todoroki x reader #coffee's fics #shoto todoroki #shouto x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha x gender neutral reader #mha x gender neutral reader #mha #bnha #todoroki x you

[caffinatedstory]

A Great Fall. Again

(AO3)

------

Doing some cleanup of fics on my notes app. Better than just letting them rot there...

I don't remember why I started this fic.. Oh. Well!

------

It's about 7 in the morning when Norway's phone rings, and he answers it with a barely tangible "What do you want?"

Denmark's voice on the other end is far too chipper and happy this early, and Norway struggles to comprehend the string of words flowing from the phone. It's mostly Danish, a little English and a few choice words in old Norse.

Eventually Denmark's chatter fades and a young woman's voice takes over.

"I'm so sorry for walking you, but he insisted we let him call you so he could get picked up…" She explains, and in the background Norway can hear Denmark's continued chatter.

"Pick the idiot up from where?"

"The hospital…"

The nurse is roughly halfway through her explanation of Denmark's fall, the surgery and his superhuman healing abilities that have baffled the whole ward every since he was admitted last night.

"Which one?" Norway rubs his face with one hand as he drags himself up from bed and finds some clothes.

He listens to the nurse explain Denmark's whereabouts as he readies himself for an impromptu roadtrip to Denmark's capitol.

"Don't worry about it. He's always been weird," Norway chuckles as he gets into his car.

A few hours driving later and he's greeted by a very pleased Denmark and a baffled nurse.

"He said you were from Norway?" The nurse carefully inquires as Norway gives Denmark a half annoyed and half affectionate hair ruffling.

"I see," the nurse replies, and Norway just knows she's not quite buying his little lie.

"Yeah," Norway nods. "But I was in the area," he adds as to not make this seem too strange.

He's pretty sure the poor nurses are having more than enough to work though their minds as it is.

Still, she continues her explanation in a very professional manner for someone who's just had an immortal man as their patient.

"He fell off the roof of his house last night, and into the fence. A neighbor found him and we got him to surgery pretty quickly," she explains. "He seemed in pain but his tollerance was absolutely inhumane!"

"Ah yes, not the first time we've heard that…" Norway cracks a smile, hoping she reads it as friendly and sincere, but he catches another nurse across the room flinching ever so slightly. He can't wait to hear the rumours spreading from the hospital about this incident. Denmark might have to fend of a few rumours about being a vampire. Again.

Norway stifles a chuckle, thankful she doesn't seem to have heard him.

"Our anaesthesia team is used to red heads being pretty immune to anaesthetics, but this was truly a case for the medical books…."

"Anyways, they had to give him quite the large dose, so he's still a little-"

"Loopy? Away with the fairies?" Norway cuts her off with another warmer smile.

"I'm not allowed to use those exact words…"

"Don't worry, he's had worse" Norway reassures her. "Another day or two and he'll be good as new,"

"It was a pretty nasty fall. Our surgeons got most of his bones in place, and we're certain all piece of wood are also out, but he needs to keep his left leg and arm elevated for a few more days. Normally we'd insist he stay at least another night, but he said you could care for him?" The nurse gives him a questioning look.

"We've been thought something similar, so we'll manage," Norway offers her a polite smile.

"if you say so…" the nurse still looks a little concerned, so Norway rolls up his trouser leg to show off an old scar.

"Broke it skiing a few years ago," he explains. "Same procedure as this I assume in terms of recovery."

"Ah," the nurse nodds. "Then you're aware of the symptoms of compartment syndrome and such?"

"Yes," Norway nodds, glad she can't discern his lies.

Skiing accident. His favourite lie to explain any scar on his body to regular humans. It would blow their mind to know that that one scar on his leg is due to Denmark being a little too aggressive with his axe during a fight many many many years ago.

A few more minutes of obligatory information is given before Norway is allowed to wheel Denmark out of the hospital and to his car.

Denmark is still signing an old nose drinking song, laughing in-between verses to himself about some old joke Norway hasn't quite got the gist of.

By the time he's gotten Denmark back to his own house, he's gotten slightly more sober.

"Care to tell me what you were doing on the roof at night?" Norway asks as he crosses his arms, giving Denmark a disapproving stare as the other nation lies spawned on his sofa.

"Reminiscing," Denmark replies sheepishly.

"Really?"

"Yeah…" Denmark's goofy smile doesn't leave his face. "I found some old letters in the attic, and just wanted to get closer to the stars for a moment…"

"How very… Sentimental of you," Norway sighs.

"I debated inviting you, but it was late…" Denmark trails off, his eyes going towards the window and the sun slowly starting to set.

"You're not climbing my roof tonight," Norway says sternly.

"Wouldn't dream of it!"

"Those nurses would kill you if you did… If I didn't get to you first…"

"Noted," Denmark nods soberly, and Norway can tell there's not much left of any pain medication or anaesthetics left in Denmark's body now.

"But we can sit outside in the garden, might even let you have a beer or two," Norway suggest with a small smile. "Not that you deserve it."

"You're too kind," Denmark grins. "And I think I do deserve it. It was quite the traumatic fall!"

"Sure it was," Norway scoffs. "About as traumatic as when you fell off the ship when we landed in England?"

"Oh yeah, no…" Denmark's face goes dark for a second. "That was worse."

"Or when you fell off the cliff while chasing a bear?"

"Ouch… Yeah that one too was pretty bad… I spit out rocks for months after that fall!"

"I believe you said all food tasted like gravel for about half a year," Norway teased.

"It at least felt like it!"

"What about when you tried to jump-"

"Okay. Okay! I get it," Denmark cut him off, waving his arm with a cast on it frantically. "I'm horribly clumsy. No need to bring it all back up…"

"You're the one who wanted to reminisce about the past," Norway smiled.

"Just the good times!" Denmark sighed.

"I found lot of those to be quite good,"

"Ha ha ha…" Denmark frowned. "As if you haven't had your share of stupid injuries too!"

"Well someone's gotta be the adventurous one,"

"Oh plenty. But yours are just so much more… Spectacular!" Norway laughed as he left the living room momentarily to fetch them a drink.

"And you're usually the one jumping into stuff head first before thinking." he added as he handed Denmark a beer.

"Yes… I suppose so…" Norway sips his beer quietly for a moment. "However, there's adventurous and then there's just plain recklessness."

"Well you know…" Denmark's sheepish smile is back. "Same thing sometimes?"

"Perhaps…"

"Only if you promise not to climb anything more than the stairs tonight."

There's a quiet moment between them before Denmark grows impatient and starts trying to wriggle himself out of the casts.

"So how about you help me out of these plaster prisons and then we can drink and be merry?"

"Deal!"

As the sun sets and the starts slowly emerge, Norway is happy the reminisce with Denmark in the garden.

The good, the bad, the ugly and the downright hilarious antics of their youth.

And maybe, just maybe, he'll let none of the other nations know of this accident.

Yet.

#hws denmark #hws norway #aph denmark #aph norway #Hetalia #Coffee's fics

[stevebabey]

"Alright, here we go!" The bartender announces, leaning up to place the drinks on the bar.

"That's one whiskey, neat—" He says, sliding the lowball cocktail glass with amber liquid in front of Eddie.

"—And one Whammin' Slammin' Booty-Bangin' Pina Colada."

He places the extravagant cocktail in front of Steve. It's decorated to the nines with a straw, an umbrella, a piece of pineapple, and a little bit of tinsel on a toothpick. A whole party decoration in a drink.

"You guys have a good night." The bartender says warmly, already moving down the bar to tend to other customers.

Eddie stares down at the whiskey in the glass before him and pouts a little. Beside him and watching his boyfriend closely, Steve rolls his eyes.

"Oh, quit being dramatic," Steve says, sliding the cocktail across the bar so it's in front of Eddie, who had ordered it. He steals the glass of whiskey back at the same time.

"It happens every time."

"It happens most times."

"That isn't much better!" Eddie protests, even as he leans down and takes a long sip from the straw while they both get to their feet and leave the bar. Steve's hunting for a table they can snag, his eyes narrowed in focus. Eddie follows him blindly, his cocktail cupped in both hands.

"I'm serious, Steve! What is it about this adorable face—" He says, gesturing to himself, barely letting go of the straw to talk. It doesn't seem to faze him that Steve doesn't even glance back. "—Says I don't want to enjoy a Whammin' Bammin' Big Booty Colada?"

Steve comes to a stop, pausing his search for a moment to look back at Eddie. His expression seems unimpressed on the surface but Eddie can see his lips twitching up at the corners.

"We've had this conversation too many times, babe." He sighs halfheartedly and takes a quick sip of his own whiskey, eyes casting back out across the bar. "You have scary dog energy, you know this. You specifically dress like this on purpose."

Eddie picks up the pineapple wedged on the edge of his glass and bites into it, sending it down with another sip of his cocktail as Steve leads them further into the back of the bar. He finally spots a spare empty table.

"C'mon, I think I found one." Steve urges, one hand snaking back to make sure Eddie's following.

"Is it a crime to wish to not fall victim to stereotypes?" Eddie prattles on, following Steve duly by slipping his hand into Steve's outstretched one. His cocktail wobbles precariously as he takes another gulp.

"Like when that waitress gave me your awful black coffee! And you got my delicious delicacy that I paid extra hard-earned money for..."

+

i like to think that when steve and eddie go out, people always lean into their assumptions and are like hmm ok preppy boy with the polo? oh he gets the fruity cocktail! and eddie is always like >:( i don't want this expensive puddle of piss gimme the bonanza supreme cocktail pls. like excuse me i paid for that.

#steve's got expensive booze taste bcos he partied lots as a teen & he got into his dad's expensive stuff #and now it's all he likes #eddie doesn't drink loads cos he usually smokes instead so when he does drink he never wants to taste the alcohol #and he likes that they're pretty and come w fun things :) #steve also likes black coffee cos he was on that Sports Diet through hs #eddie packs his with sugar and creamer if he can #hehehe have this headcanon <3 from me to you #that i thought of rn #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #heheheheh <3 #i also love drinks with the most insane names. like please tell me you know what i mean #ruby writes steddie

[bebx]

Reblog after voting for bigger sample size is highly appreciated :)

#poll #polls #archive of our own #ao3 #reading corner #reading #writing #fanfic #fic #fandom #fandoms #whump #angst #fluff #tumblr poll #tumblr polls #coffee shop #book #books #fanfic writing #writing advice #trope #tropes #writing tropes #writing trope #prompts #writing prompts #prompt #writing prompt

[basiatlu]

Commissioned work as a gift for @elskanellis ♡ Based on Ch. 17 of their fic: Designate / your love is fate

Such a sweet fic to read. I'm a big fan of a spreadsheet-obsessed Draco Malfoy!

#art commissions #art #drawing #sketch #artists on tumblr #harry potter #illustration #doodle #drarry #boshdraws #harry james potter #fic art #harry x draco #draco malfoy #coffee shop #the deathly hallows