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writingoddess1125 · 7 months

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So annoying

Crocodile and adopted child Reader

Platonic Adopted Child

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Stepping from the bar Crocodile glanced around him, he was here for business and hated having to meet in places like this. Disgusting.

His goons who were all chattering around him being kiss-asses in trying to keep their bosses attention. As he walked down the street he heard a scuffle from the alley next to the bar, glancing as he passed by.

Pausing for barely a second he saw a shadow of a small child give a hard punch to the cheek of one of the goons who had stepped out earlier then him, making the man stumble slightly before the child darted into a sewage drain to hide.

The goon quickly rushing back to the posey- ignoring the taunts from others at being punched by a homeless child. Him ranting at coming back and teaching them 'manners' for the hit.

Why waste his time on some children?- he had seen and done worse afterall.. and if one of his goons got bested by a dirty hungry child it made him question them more then anything...

As they continued to walk down the street he heard some soft bare feet hitting the cobblestone again- assuming it was another child prepared to throw a rock or-

"Hey Mister!" A loud voice shrilled- despite its lightness he could hear a rumble of toughness there, he glanced back and saw the child from the alleyway the one who had punched one of his goons and hid in the sewer drain. She looked around 5 if Crocodile had to guess now getting a full look at them-

"You're guy that's next to you is a fucking asshole Mister!" The little girl yelled as she pointed to the man to his left- hearing one of his accomplices choking back a laugh at hearing this from such a small child. How she knew he was the one in charge also caught his eye, she must have been watching him too...

"Hey listen here you little shit!-" The goon that she had attacked earlier step forward angrily, Crocodile holding his hooked hand up to stop him.

"Hm?" He raised a brow curious of the girls words, nodding for her to continue.

"He likes to come here and push around us kids on the street, That and he tried to piss on us! You're a grown man yet you're acting like some perverted asshole!" She yelled as she pointed to his goon angrily, who was now red in the face as the rest stared at the child in shock and almost horror.

"Brave.. Very Brave child you are" Crocodile hummed as he stared down at the little girl, a look of amusement going across his features as he stepped towards her- Staring at the mats in her hair, how dirty her clothes were and overall clear abuse from elements. She steeled herself as he approached, her little fist balled tightly and eyes glaring up at him like she was prepared for a fight.

"What is your name child?" He questioned,

"I don't got one" She said confidently and harshly, like a little gangster. He chuckled at this and squatted down so he was closer to her eyelevel.

He tapped his chin for a moment and removing the cigar from his lips and blowing a cloud of smoke to the side as he stared down at her.

"How annoying.. Hm.. (Y/N) then- that is your name from now on" He said calmly and with a nod, His large hand reaching out and grabbing her by the scruff of her shirt and placing her under his arm like one would do with a Puppy before standing back up.

"H-Hey what are you doing Mister!?" She yelled in surprise as he just picked her up with ease and without care, The goons around him stating in shock.

"I'm keeping you- Don't most orphans want to he adopted? Quite an odd child" He mussed as he carried her, glancing down to see her face twisted up and eyes narrowed.

"Most people don't just grab children and adopt them so Quite an odd man-" She shot back, breaking a laugh from the man.

"Boss you're keeping that street rat?" One of the goons strilled, the one that (Y/N) had called a asshole.

"Ah yes that reminds me-" He grumbled as a wave of sand smashed into the goon, like a miniature sand storm that swept him down the street knocked out and like he had his skin sandblasted off.

(Y/N) looked at this in awe, unafraid of the clearly dangerous man who had just adopted her.

"Wow Mister- That was pretty cool!"

Crocodile couldn't help but smirk, Defiently a annoying child.

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #crocodile x reader #op crocodile #one piece crocodile #crocodile #dad crocodile #child reader #x child reader

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xxblairexxss · 10 months

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Jibber-jabber

Pairing : Mason Mount x reader

Theme : Fluff

This was so so so cute I had a blast writing it!

Your relationship with Mason wasn’t a secret amongst his fans. Two years ago, Mason asked you to be his girlfriend and a few months later, he uploaded a picture of you on his Instagram story which proved all those rumours that has been flying around to be true. His fans had found your social media way before Mason posted or confirmed anything and it was only because they saw Mason following you, a random girl with no more than 1000 followers and never missed to leave a like on every posts of yours though he never left any comments.

ynusername

Liked by masonmount and others

ynusername 🥐☕️

ynbestfriend miss uuuu

masonmmupdate you are soooo pretty

footballwagssoon mason’s gf??

rebeccaa__19 are you mason’s girlfriend? 🥹

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

masonmount has added to their story

12th June

ynusername has added to their story

2nd July

Even though everyone knew you were together and that you were no longer an unfamiliar face amongst the fans, you chose to keep it as private as you can. There would be an occasional pictures of you guys holding hands together or showing off your matching socks or a 2 seconds view of him in your Instagram story to which the fanpages would cut the part of the 15 seconds video and reposted it with the slow motion effect. It wasn’t because you were trying to hide anything or trying to be mysterious but it was because you wanted to use the social media platforms as your personal diary and no one stayed on one topic in their diary.

You had been staying at Mason’s house a lot this month as he tried to sort out his contract which meant he wasn’t at home that much so you would occasionally treat yourself on a solo date where you would took a stroll near the park or got yourself a coffee at the new coffee shop you came across. It was therapeutic sometimes to spend time with yourself.

But today, it was different. Mason asked you out to buy some stuffs at a department store. You told Mason that you wanted to do a vlog and that he didn’t have to be in it. He didn’t mind, of course but what he didn’t knew was that it wasn’t actually a vlog.

You already had your phone recording when you did your makeup earlier so as you talked thorough all the products that you were using, you decided to talk about the plan as well but in a whispering tone now. Not that Mason could hear but just to be safe. “So, we’re going out and I wanted to prank him. I’m gonna chatter about 20 random topics I could think about at one time and none of it are gonna make any sense. I’m not sure how he’s gonna react because he never gets annoyed with me so…”

“Babe, you ready?”

“Yeah!”

﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎﹎

“So, I went to this one bakery the other day, yeah?”

Mason had his hand on your thigh, like he always did whenever he drives and nodded to your question. Your phone was propped against something on the car dash to record both you and Mason. You had asked him once again if he wanted to be in the camera and he said of course he wanted to be seen in the camera with his girlfriend.

“And I asked the worker which one was the best-selling and she said it was pain au chocolat but they had a new menu that made them won the— Oh! Do you know the history of pain au chocolat?”

Mason blinked, trying to catch up with you before shaking his head. “No, I don’t know but babe, what about the new menu?”

“Mase, listen! So August Zang..”

“Wait, who’s Zang?”

“The one who brought pain au chocolat to France! This is why you should listen.”

“Okay, baby, I’m listening.”

“Oh! And there was this cute dog that passed by—”

“Was it Zang’s dog?”

“….what? Mase…” You gave in and cackled at his question. “That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Oh, yeah, tell me about it, princess.” He pinched on his furrowed brows, didn’t find this whole thing funny, in fact, it was kinda stressing him out but were you gonna stop? Not yet, of course so you continued.

“Then I felt like getting a green tea but there was a stranger that walked past me and the smell of coffee from the one that she was holding— the new menu was something to do with cranberry I think.”

“Okay, babe, are you okay?” He teared his eyes away from the road as the traffic light turned red and placed his hand on the side of your face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Do you…want me to stop talking?” You leaned into his touch and trailed off.

“No, no. Keep talking. The topics are kinda complicated but I’ll manage. So, you were talking about the dog, yeah? No? Was it the coffee? Cranberry? Zang? Which one do you want start with?”

“I want to talk about the street art I saw…” You forlornly returned his gaze.

“Okay, I don’t mind adding one more topic. Let’s take it slow, okay? What about the street art?” Mason stroked his thumb against your jawline and took your hand in his. To him, you looked the most adorable when you talked. He had a hard time catching up, sure but he didn’t mind. The sight of you blabbering, the way you bit your lips to think off the next topic, the way your hands moved randomly with every words you said. He sworn he wouldn’t trade this moment with anything else. He was listening attentively but he also couldn’t stop gazing at you full of admiration. His precious girl.

To you, he didn’t look annoyed, didn’t look irritated. Of course, you wouldn’t be able to read his mind but the public could be the one to decide on that when you posted the video on your Tiktok.

#football imagine #football imagines #mason mount #mason mount blurb #mason mount x reader #mason mount x y/n #mason mount imagines #mason mount fluff #mason mount fic

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adore-laur · 5 months

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COME HOME TO MY HEART

— an angsty continuation of home is a feeling that takes place months after ☕️

——

Standing under a bleak sky copious with death, Harry is just another person in a black ensemble of mourning that rivals the white winter scene. Snowdrifts heap over inscribed gravestones, and willow trees weep frigid tears along with everyone else at the street-corner cemetery. It's a sorrowful evening, not even the pastel pink wisps of a brumal sunset being able to lift spirits.

As the coffin is lowered into the ground, its sleek wood collecting flurries from above, the surrounding air grows colder in lamentation.

A departure from life is impossible to prepare for, isn't it?

Harry hangs back from the crowd by a bare maple tree. He wears a long black coat with deep pockets for his hands. To anyone else, he's an intruding spectator, but in actuality, you personally invited him to be a crutch of support since your parents can't be that right now.

He promised you he would be here, yet the way you've been gazing up at him with indecipherable eyes every now and then tells him you didn't quite believe him.

When you had called him out of the blue and relayed the upsetting news about your grandfather's passing, his heart had ached in a way it hadn't ever before. It ached for you, his grief-stricken girl, and also your family, who were always generous throughout the years. In the week since he arrived back in his hometown, he gave you time to deal with the initial grief independently. There was no need to barge into his ex-girlfriend's life and attempt to be your saving grace. If you needed a shoulder to cry on, he'd wait for you to ask and then lend it without a second thought. Your level of comfort with him isn't something to be presumed.

Nonetheless, it's an unfortunate circumstance just to be able to see your face again.

The crowd disperses once the loose dirt is shoveled back into the ground. Crumpled tissues in hands and hushed chatter signify the end of the funeral burial. It didn't feel right for Harry to attend the service, as it was for close family and friends only. Even now, a nagging feeling inside his gut tells him he doesn't belong in such a sensitive area.

He pushes himself off the tree trunk and searches for your familiar figure that has suddenly disappeared. He mentally prepares what he'll say to you and is highly aware that there's no right way to go about condolences. He just needs to be as gentle as possible.

Eventually, you emerge from a huddled group and lock eyes with him again, with a slight smile that mends his aching heart for the time being.

"You look like a spy," you say, your boots crunching in the snow as you walk toward him.

He laughs softly but doesn't say anything. Instead, his empathetic side takes in every part of your face, looking for an emotion to pinpoint so he can comfort you in the most chivalrous way possible. He notices your dissociative eyes with prominent bags under them, your tinted nose from the cold, and your chapped lips that make him yearn to kiss the rawness away.

He's so close to you again. Has your hair gotten darker due to the seasons changing? Why do you have such beautiful eyes, even on a dreary day? Does the eyeliner you have on come from the pencil stub you've owned since high school?

Knowing his own boundaries, Harry thumbs a quick swipe across your shivering chin and then wraps you in a tight hug. You instantly melt into him, your arms looping around his torso—just like that one night on the rooftop.

"Your hair is so long," you mumble into his coat.

He releases you before the intimacy starts to hurt too much, but he keeps a protective hold on your upper arms. "Do you hate it?"

"No, it suits you." You swallow and look at him, your teeth chattering a bit. "Thank you for coming."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he replies sincerely. "Gramps was a great man."

"He liked you a lot."

"Did he?"

You give him an almost scolding expression and say, "Of course he did. When I brought you home for Christmas the year we started dating, he took me into the kitchen and told me you were a keeper."

Harry's posture stiffens. "I didn't know that."

"It was our little secret," you say quietly, snowflakes falling onto your eyelashes. "Um, have you had a chance to talk to my parents yet?"

"I don't think they'd want to see me," he says while removing his hands from you. He tucks them back into his pockets since they're becoming numb.

"Why not?"

"I just have a feeling." He's been having a lot of those lately. "Not often that an ex-boyfriend shows up at a funeral, you know?"

Frowning, you glance around and say, "It's not like they hate you or anything."

God, he hopes not. Although, he wouldn't necessarily blame them, considering he broke their precious daughter's heart.

"Where are you going after this?" he asks, not wanting to delve into his regrets.

"My parents' house," you reply, your breath visible in the frosty air. "To my childhood bedroom. Hopefully to get some sleep for once."

You haven't been sleeping? He could've guessed, but he didn't want to assume. He wonders if you still light vanilla candles and turn on salt lamps to rejuvenate your energy, according to you.

"Did you drive here?"

"No, I rode with my mom and dad."

Harry shifts his footing and clears his throat. "Would they mind if I stole you for a bit?"

You blink quickly. "What do you mean?"

"I just want to talk," he elaborates, scratching under his nose. "Catch up. That's all."

There's an apparent hesitance when you nibble on your bottom lip. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Anything you want." Truthfully, he just misses hearing your voice. "I'm staying here with my mom for a while since my winter break starts soon. And, well, you're the only person in this town I enjoy talking to."

"Are you kidnapping me from a funeral?"

"Maybe don't put it like that."

A genuine laugh escapes you, and Harry's knees almost give out. "Sure, let's go," you say with a smile and a lighthearted shrug. "Being here is making me sad."

"Okay. Let me say hello to your parents really quick."

You scan the cemetery, then ask, "Do you need me to come with you?"

He scrunches his nose and toes the snowy ground with the front of his boot. "Please?"

After he politely shakes hands with your dad and gives your mom a long hug, he walks you to his black Jeep parked on the side of the road by the first row of graves, his elbow hooked with yours so you don't slip on the pavement slush. The first thing he sees is that his windshield has iced over from the bitter cold.

He sighs and fishes for his keys, then unlocks the doors. "Here, start it for me and turn the heat on. I need to scrape the ice off."

You take his keys and slide into the passenger seat. Harry makes sure you're situated and then grabs his ice scraper from under the backseat. After a few minutes of manual labor, he gets behind the wheel and shakes snow flurries out of his hair.

"Where on earth are your mittens?" he asks when he notices your hands are tucked under your legs.

"I didn't bring any," you reply defensively.

"Love," he stresses as he pushes his hair back. "It's bloody freezing out. Give me your hands."

"Maybe if your stupid Jeep didn't take forever to warm up."

Harry doesn't make a snarky remark since he knows you're sensitive right now. He just cups your hands between his and blows warm air on them to increase your circulation. They're soft and fit so well between his palms like they were molded to be held by only him.

"Ready to go?" he asks between blowing breaths, focusing his gaze on you.

You study the snowflakes sticking on the windshield. "Where?"

He gently sets your hands in your lap and then reaches across to buckle your seatbelt before fastening his own. "Is Edge of Town still your favorite café?"

"Yeah," you say bemusedly, turning toward him with widened eyes of innocence. "Why?"

Putting his car in reverse, he places one hand on your headrest and smiles at you. "Let's get some coffee there, yeah? For old times' sake."

——

Sitting across from Harry at a corner table in the dimly lit café, you can't believe you almost forgot how handsome he is as you both sip from cinnamon lattes, careful not to disrupt the intricate art made from steamed milk on the surface.

All the slight changes since you last saw him become your focal point, his hair being the most staggering. It's now tied up into a bun, and you're not sure why, but it makes him look different. His facial features have gotten slightly older; the high school baby face you fell in love with now showcases physical maturity.

He's different but somehow all the same.

You've spent the last half hour catching up with him, which has proved easy since college is a relevant topic in both of your lives. You learned that he's getting his degree in the spring of next year, and then he's going to find a job somewhere in Europe to start the next chapter of his life. You're proud of him. He's always had a good head on his shoulders.

"Have you ever had marshmallows in your coffee?" Harry asks, tapping his foot against yours under the table.

You set your cup down and blankly stare at him. "No, you freak."

"It's good," he claims, wiping his lips with a napkin. "You should try it."

"You know, your taste in beverages hasn't improved over the years. Don't even think for a second that I forgot about the ginger ale."

"Excuse me," he says offendedly, "it helps fight the common cold and digestion problems. It's the perfect drink to have in the wintertime."

"Absolutely rancid," you mutter, taking another sip of your coffee.

As you continue your subtle ogling, your eyes catch on brown leather peeking out from his coat pocket. The familiar journal of his catapults you back in time, flashbacks playing in your head from all the vivid occasions you've seen him carry it around or write in it. He had never let you look at his entries, always making a show of hiding his secret words from you. Looking at it now, you see that a page toward the end has some sort of bookmark sticking out.

"You still have that?"

Harry looks confused. "What, digestion problems?"

"No, oh my God," you say with a burst of laughter. "I meant your journal. You've had that thing for ages."

"Ah." He pulls it out and sets it next to his coffee cup. "Yeah, I still have it."

You admire how worn the cover is, decorated with permanent marker scribbles on the cracked material. "Are my terrible drawings still in there?"

Nodding, he smirks and leans back into the booth, stretching his arms over his head. "I'll show you later. They're quite abstract."

The space fills with comfortable silence for a while, and before you know it, you're walking out the door with him and into the night. You don't remember ever getting up, but the numbness in your brain might have caused it. The past week has felt like a fuzzy dream you've been stuck in. Grief is a peculiar thing.

Under the snowy sky, hometown nostalgia in the dead of winter creeps under your skin. When you look around at the sidewalks you used to walk with your grandpa, everything suddenly hits you hard. Your lips wobble as you try to blink back the tears, but they fall without warning.

Harry quickly wraps both arms around your shoulders, resting his cheek on the top of your head. "It's okay to cry," he whispers, kissing your hair. "I promise you it's okay."

You sniffle and say, "Whenever we see each other, I always end up crying."

He hums. "Sorry. I don't mean to."

"No, it's not you this time." You bury your nose in his coat and let the woodsy scent of his cologne distract you. "I just always realize how lonely I am when winter comes around. It gets harder as I get older." Swallowing and shaking your head, you continue, "I used to adore winter as a kid. I would play outside in the snow for hours and then come inside to drink hot chocolate. I wouldn't care if the sky was grey or if my fingers would freeze. Nowadays, I just stay in my room when it's gloomy unless I need to go to work. Growing up isn't as fun as I thought it'd be."

"You still have my number," Harry replies softly, pulling you closer. "You can always call or text me when you're feeling lonely."

"I had to pay by the minute when I called you about my grandpa since you were in the Netherlands."

"And is that so bad?"

You smile and sniffle again. "No, it isn't. To be here on an empty street in the freezing cold, crying and joking around with you... I've missed it. Not the crying, but you know what I mean."

"I know," he murmurs. "I've missed it too."

"Will you be celebrating Christmas with your mom?" you ask, hearing a car drive by. "She's still living here, right?"

"Yeah, I'll be at her house." He cradles the back of your head and gently pulls it away from his coat. "You should stop by. She always thinks of you."

You look at him and say, "All good things, I hope."

"Always." Taking your hand, he starts walking further down the sidewalk. "Follow me."

Harry stops at a streetlight and releases his hand to pull his journal out again. He flips through the pages until he gets to one toward the end. "When we said goodbye in the summer," he says, "I walked around town and wrote about all the places we used to go to—places where we had good memories. You can read what I wrote if you want."

"Really?" you ask. Harry nods, so you take his journal from him and read the black ink that fills half the page.

The streetlight on the corner of Lawton Avenue. I kissed you under it on New Year's when the clock on my phone turned to midnight. Your lips were cold, but they lit a fire inside of me. What I would do to feel them again, even if just pressed against my cheek like you did when we said goodbye.

"Lawton Avenue..." you trail off, your eyes dancing around the area where you stand. "Isn't that—"

"This is the same streetlight," Harry interrupts quietly.

You exhale incredulously, gazing up at the familiar light. "It is. I remember now."

"This feels right, doesn't it?" He steps closer until his boots touch the tip of yours. "Me and you being here. It's like something keeps bringing us back to one another. Does that sound crazy?"

"Gramps," you choke out.

He tilts your chin up with his knuckle. "Hmm?"

You take a deep, shaky breath. "I almost wasn't going to tell you that he passed, but then I thought about how much he liked you. He always went on and on about how nice of a boy you were. How he could see the love in your eyes."

"He loved you. I only saw him a few times, but I know that he loved you so much."

"I know. I think he brought us back together."

"Well, he was right about the love in my eyes," he says, his gaze piercing your soul. "I don't think it's ever completely gone away."

Logical thinking goes out the window when you tell him, "I love you. I shouldn't anymore, but I do.

Harry cups your cold cheeks. "Stop. You don't get to say that."

"I love you," you repeat, your voice becoming thick with emotion. "You still mean so much to me. Just like what you said to me back in July."

"Right person, wrong time. That's what we decided on the rooftop."

"But I didn't mean what I said."

That night was five months ago. It's wild how one day, one look at him can change all your feelings. The love you thought you lost with him is coming back as an unraveling epiphany.

Sighing, Harry looks down at the sidewalk blanketed in snow. "You told me it would never work," he says.

"I didn't know what I was saying," you reply hastily. "It was so overwhelming seeing you again after two years."

"I don't understand," he says, slightly frustrated. "You made it seem like we were better off never seeing each other again."

You wipe your tears that are either from the brisk air or your own misery. "I'll be your friend, I'll be a one-night stand, I'll be anything. I just want to be someone to you again."

He glimpses at your lips. "You are. You're everything to me."

"But the distance—"

"Fuck the distance."

It was the only thing that broke the relationship.

"You were so good, Harry." Resting your forehead against his, you breathe out a landslide of emotions. "Such a good boyfriend. You loved me better than anyone."

"I still love you," he says, placing both palms on your neck. "Years ago, it was high school love that I didn't fully understand. This... hey, look at me." Your chin is tilted back up with his thumb. "This right here is even more real to me. This is why I asked if we could try again."

"So, what now?" you ask, looking into his eyes. "We try again?"

"We try again."

"How?"

"If the distance fucks everything up," he says with his warm breath hitting your lips, "then we know we aren't right for each other. But I'll go through that possibility if it means I don't have to love you from afar anymore."

"Just come home," you plead desperately.

"I am home. Technically, right?"

"No, you don't get it." You grip onto his shoulders. "Come home to me. To my heart."

He kisses your cheek twice, the first quick and the second longer. "I'm right here, baby. I'll stay for as long as you need me to."

"I want you to stay here." Your own voice sounds distant. "I miss you all the time."

"I will," he affirms, his eyes fluttering shut and his voice fading. "I'll come home to you."

Just as you're about to kiss his lips, something taps the back of your hand. The streetlight you're under goes dark, and the vision in front of you fizzles out as you blink rapidly to find yourself back in the café, staring at your latte.

"Hey," Harry says tentatively, squeezing your fingers with his. "You all right?"

Snapping your head up to him, you blurt, "Sorry. I zoned out for a bit." You shake your head and repeat, "Sorry."

"That's okay." He looks out the window, the snow falling harder than it has been all day. "I was just saying that your parents will probably want you to get home soon since the roads will be getting bad. I can drop you off."

Your throat tightens. "Um, sure. Yeah, I'm ready to head out if you are."

"Okay," he says while standing. "Stay here. I'll start my car since it takes forever to heat up."

You just weakly smile as he walks out the glass doors. Sinking in your seat, you try not to think about where your mind drifted. It felt so real, so wildly vivid. His voice, his words, his touch; all of it made sense. In your head, you do everything right. You let him in, not push him away. You talk it through, not avoid the burden you carry. You keep your chin up, not give up at the first sign of doubt.

After lightly slapping your cheeks, you sigh and put your coat back on. When you get up to shove your arms in the sleeves, you see that Harry left his journal on the table. It sits vulnerably next to his empty coffee cup, the string tied loosely around the cover.

You shouldn't, but you do.

Quickly opening it and flipping to the page with the bookmark, you skim the messy ink on the damp page. It looks fresh. Dried dots from snow darken the paper in various places, but you only focus on what the words spell out.

She's under the willow tree, more beautiful than the weeping branches crystallized with icicles. I sit here in my car, wishing there was a way to let her know that I would do anything she wants me to.

My love for her warmly courses in my blood, protecting me from the brutal winter. If she opened her heart to me, I could make her my home again. Light those vanilla candles and kiss her like I used to. Tell her all about how she makes me a lovesick fool with no cure. Give her my time and apologize for ever walking away from the best thing that slipped through my fingers.

Where she goes, I follow. There's some powerful force that refuses to keep us apart. Why can't she see it? I can't be with her if she doesn't yearn for me like I do for her. I understand the distance and why, in retrospect, she sees the potential downfall. However, I see the beauty that could flourish from it if we just try.

I want to come home to her every day, but how do I even begin to tell that to a girl who doesn't feel the same?

Fuck the distance.

The café door suddenly opens with a chime, making you slam his journal shut. Thankfully, Harry doesn't notice since he's too busy looking down and stomping his snow-covered boots on the welcome mat.

You pretend you're picking up his journal for the first time and say, "Don't forget this."

He glances up, eyeing what you hold. "Shit, thank you." He strides over and takes it. "Wait, I never got to show you your drawings."

"It's fine," you tell him. "They're probably really embarrassing."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I'm pretty tired."

His gaze dances around your face, then falls to your hands fidgeting with the zipper on your coat. "Let's get you home," he says softly. "You can try to sleep on the way there."

You end up doing just that until he pulls into your parents' driveway. Opening your eyes, you squint at the bright beams of the headlights reflecting off the house's windows. You look over at Harry and find him staring at you, his face barely visible in the dark.

"We're here," he whispers.

You nod sleepily and unbuckle your seatbelt. "Thank you for… for making today a little easier."

"Of course." He rubs the back of his neck, not knowing where to look. "I hope you get some sleep tonight."

A chasmic pang. A searing sting. A residual twinge.

Why?

Because the words you tearily whispered to him before shutting the car door cause you to fall into bed and clutch the blanket until sleep overtakes your heartache.

You're a good man, Harry.

——

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles au #harry styles #adore-laur #come home to my heart

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mysteriesmuse · 1 year

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FIRE IN THE HOLE🔥💥☕️

Your lovely boyfriend turned current fiancé, Katsuki Bakugou knows that when he says not a word to anyone and you pretend to zip your lips that’s there’s a pretty substantial chance that a certain list of people are probably gonna hear about it . . . your siblings, your childhood best friend, your college best friend, sometimes your dentist if they can put together the mumbled response to their questions. Katsuki seriously wonders why they all do that. Especially yours because you are a chatter box. But, at the top of that list is your mom . . .

Katsuki is sitting inside peering over the pesky reading glasses he got a few weeks ago, he hates to admit he needs them, as you slip out the back door to take your weekly phone call from your mom. He brings chin to chest before puffing out a breath of laughter. Across from him is your new organic mug. A lopsided thing steaming with a new cup of peppermint tea . . .

Katsuki hums, he’ll heat it back up for you when you return. You absentmindedly stroll on the tattered lawn in your flip-flops. Phone pressed to your cheek as you grin and tease patches of dandelions with your toes . . .

Katsuki’s sure you’re on the wind-up with the causal “how are you” catch before regaling your mother with this most recent and embarrassing fiasco.

————

In the backyard you poke at a nearly blossoming yellow lion bud.

“Oh- yeah, yeah I’ll be sure to mention it to Katsuki. Have dad text him about the furniture thing. He’s inside looking at tiles for the bathroom”

you shake your head, slipping your toes back around the sandal strap and carrying on. Your mother clearly has you on speaker phone. You can hear the food sizzling in the pan and your father scrubbing at the kitchen sink. a coy smile lights itself on your face: the perfect segway.

“oh mom, speaking of the dishes that I can hear dad scrubbing in the back you’ll never believe what Katsuki and I did”

“Sweetie? You know I know you’re engaged to a pro-hero?” your mom chuckles, “that could be anything in my wildest imagination”

Humming you glance back over at you darling fiancé. Diligently scrolling through a catalog of kitchen and bath tiles, “actually this is pretty mundane compared to other things.” You can hear the hiss of air and the playful groan that follows. The sound of your mother rolling her eyes . . .

“well about 2-3 weeks ago I get Katsuki to join me at this pottery class that I’ve been looking into. We’re there and he’s, tsk, typical grumbling about it to me under his breath. The place is so homely and smells like the earth and a dash of paint chemicals but otherwise nice. A few soccer moms trying to be earthy and unwind, but nothing along the lines of crazed fans or anything like that.

once we’re told the rules and given the supplies we’re going. The both of us - right? Totally surprising. But Katsuki’s actually into it. They tell us we’re making mugs because that’s a good beginner pot, but his hands are so big so his is more like a soup bowl. I KNOW, that’s the kinda of coffee mug you’d need! Anyway, it’s still huge by the end, but it looks good. Not at all lopsided or anything.

. . . oh god no mine was a mess! The instructor lady said the walls were all uneven and whatnot, but it coulda’ been a lovely pencil holder. Yeah, right. So anyways, we leave feeling pretty good. Katsuki has begrudging enjoyed himself and they’re supposed to call the both of us when they finish up in the kiln.

a few days past and we’re out at home. yeah the apartment - sitting on the couch and trying some new recipe for guac our friend Sero recommended. And we get the call. Except it’s not a “hey your mugs are ready to pick up thanks for taking our class. We hope to see you again” it’s “oh hey our condolences here’s a free voucher to take another class if you so desire” and you know why? It’s because our group exploded in the kiln. Which - yeah - is natural if there’s a huge air bubble.

Right, so I’m sitting on the couch with the voicemail they left us on the answering machine. Katsuki’s throwing a bunch of stuff together in a bowl in the kitchen still.

but the place doesn’t say that the pots in the kiln exploded it says that the kiln exploded. Right away. Like boom! anyway that grabs Katsuki’s attention and he utters the loudest “shit.” I may have ever heard him say in his sacred space. And he rushes into the bedroom to grab his wallet and checkbook . . . and I don’t know that’s what he’s grabbing. Im just like babe where are you going?

and he comes back out panting and says “dial them back” and I’m like why?? And Katsuki’s just sweatdrops and deadpans like babygirl I just broke their kiln.

Then it hits me . . . the nitroglycerin from his quirk sweat is all over that clay and once that thing got fired up . . . Fire. In. The. Hole. And so Katsuki paid to replace the damage cause neither of us were actually thinking about that part when we were there. So he combusted everyone’s things, but on the bright side I went back using my voucher and made a cute mug.

Oh, and Katsuki is gonna let me use his too. Honestly, probably for the best”

———

and it’s later that evening when Katsuki’s massaging your knee that’s draped over his lap that he hears your impression of you mothers response to this story which was, understandably, “oh pumpkin, that’s hysterical! You’ve got to call your sister and tell her!”

#bakugou headcanons #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugou #bakugou fluff #pro hero katsuki #fanfic #bakugou x reader #bakugou drabble #i thought this was so cute and sooo funny #immediately had to write this idea up bc what a natural oversight #like can you imagine #bruh would be so upset he didn’t consider his quirk in the kiln #boom boom boy #bakugou katuski x reader

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bednbunfast · 5 months

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Jailed for His Crimes.

#☕️ | chatter #your turn to die #sou hiyori #yttd midori #i tried to make a cabbage. tried.#I FUCKING HATEEEEE MODELLING CLAY >:(((

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chaos-is-beautifvl · 1 year

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𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: bakugou katsuki x implied fem!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: in which the stupidest of stupidities is two oblivious people who think they’re not good enough for the other ||preview here

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠: fluff, so. much. pining, no use of y/n, bakugou being affectionate in his own aggresive way, mineta (that should be warning enough), cursing - it’s bakugou, what did you expect?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k (2788)

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 💌: posting this later than anticipated but for good reason because i graduated last week! i’m considering writing a part 2 with some scenes i didn’t include. let me know if you’d be interested!

p.s. requests are 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍 || guidelines here p.s.s. check out my other fics here!

buy me a coffee ☕️! (for support!)

✸-✸-✸

The falling of the rain on the roof mixed with the quiet chatter of the classroom. A wistful sigh left your mouth as you stared out the window, watching the droplets fall. It was a race, and while, at first, your rain droplet was in the lead, it was now moving slowly along the glass.

“I’m gonna win.”

You tilted your head towards the speaker, eyes still on the window. “Being fast doesn’t always guarantee victory. Ever heard the tale of the tortoise and the hare?” You added after hearing a quiet scoff and a mumble of ‘yeah, well, we’ll see.’

“Yes, we will,” you replied, laughing softly.

Not even five seconds later, your rain droplet caught up with its competitor, sliding down to the window pane (or, in this case, the finish line). You took your attention off the window, redirecting it to the blond sitting behind you, “Told you — slow and steady wins the race.”

“Tch.” He grunted, arms crossing over his chest. “I’ll get you next time.”

You couldn’t help the grin that surfaced as you turned to the front of the classroom, “I’ll be counting on it.”

The end of the day came quicker than anticipated. You weren’t sure how much time had passed since Mr. Aizawa reminded the class of an upcoming exam, but soon enough, the final bell rang, shaking you from your daze.

You would be lying if you said you weren’t happy about class ending. With the cold, rainy weather and your restlessness the night before, you were beyond tired and wanted some much-needed rest.

Just as you were about to leave, a business-course student approached you, wanting your opinion for a survey. They explained it was for a project they had procrastinated on, and as much as you would have liked to retreat to your room, you couldn’t help but empathize with them. After all, procrastination was no stranger to you.

You were thankful that the survey only took about ten minutes to complete. But when you looked outside the window and noticed the heavily-falling rain, you wanted to sink into the floor. You double-checked that you had your things and then remembered something as you were about to leave.

You had forgotten your umbrella. Of course, you did.

You went to bed late the night before, and in your body’s attempt to give you more rest, you’d almost slept through your alarm. In a rush, you didn’t check the weather like usual. And your classmates had already left to return to the dorms leaving you on your lonesome.

As you grumpily exited the building, you thought of how useful Yayorozu’s quirk was in such situations. Just to your luck, the downpour became even heavier as you rushed back to the dorms. At this point, you wished you could hide under a rock until your unluckiness disappeared.

The ground was slippery as you jogged to shelter, attempting to avoid falling and injuring yourself. By the time you’d returned, the rain had soaked through your clothes, and you felt an impending cold. Sniffles could be heard as you trudged to the elevators.

Your clothes clung to your skin, the wetness sending shivers throughout your tired body. You clutched onto your backpack, thankful it was waterproof, unlike the rest of your body. You’d hate it if your notes were ruined.

You must have been dozing off while waiting for the elevator to open because a thunk came to your forehead. Your eyes shot open, blearily taking in Bakugou standing before you, red eyes staring in what looked like discontent. You opened your mouth to speak when he shook his head, mumbling ‘idiot’ under his breath.

You didn’t reply, only looking at him. “Hey, dumbass, the hell are you staring at?” Your eyes widened in surprise as you quickly averted your gaze, embarrassed at him having to call you out.

“Sorry, Bakugou,” you said sheepishly. “I’m just tired.”

“And wet.”

Your mind went straight to the gutter, and you cursed yourself when the blond raised an eyebrow at your non-response response. The corner of Katsuki’s mouth twitched when he noticed your mild panicked expression. “‘m talking about your clothes, dummy. Don’t go thinking weird shit.”

“Sorry…” you mumbled. You looked down at your clothes, remembering why you were apologizing in the first place. “Right, thanks for pointing it out.”

For some reason, the air felt discomfiting. You weren’t sure why you felt so nervous as you stood beside the blond, wondering what was taking the elevator so long.

Today couldn’t be more shitty. Not only had you forgotten your umbrella, leaving you soaked, but now you were standing next to the guy you embarrassed yourself in front of.

(You’ve also harbored feelings for him the past few months, but that’s irrelevant. It’s not like it affected how you acted around him - only it did exactly that).

You ignored him, staring in a weird daze that probably creeped him out. And then, you misinterpreted his simple observation into something dirty.

It felt like you were inconveniencing the blond. All Bakugou wanted was to get on the elevator, and there you were, staring at him in a daze. Now, he was boring holes into you, and you couldn’t wait to shower and overthink this entire interaction.

The elevator doors opened with a ding, and out came Mineta and Kaminari, whispering to each other about something you were sure you didn’t want to know about. They were so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn’t even noticed you and Bakugou waiting, resulting in them bumping into you two.

You didn’t have time to catch yourself as your still-slippery shoes slid against the floor, causing you to fall. Well, almost. You were already bracing yourself for the impact when you realized that, yes, you were against something firm, but the firm object was also warm.

You opened your squeezed-shut eyes, slowly blinking as you realized you hadn’t hit the floor, which would have been the cherry on top of the horrible afternoon you had so far. Instead, someone’s arm was keeping you steady. While you were initially grateful, it only took one second to recognize who the arm belonged to, and you were immensely embarrassed.

You jumped like a cat touching water. Wrong move. It seemed that you kept forgetting that you were wet, which included your shoes. You almost slipped again - no, correction: you did slip again, but you were also caught again.

You weren’t sure what was more mortifying, the fact that you were acting like a klutz or the fact that Katsuki was holding you tight to his chest, preventing you from moving.

“Stop moving, dammit. You’re gonna fall or some shit.” Katsuki’s voice was gruff in your ear, and it was then that you realized how close you two were. Your initial reaction was to run away, but after your previous two attempts at simply moving your body, you didn’t think that was wise.

Besides, being held by Katsuki was something both unexpected and highly appreciated.

His warm body was slowly removing the chill that had settled over yours. But when you registered his mouth so close to you, goosebumps speckled your skin. “You good to stand, or you gonna fall again?”

Your response was a nod because you did not trust your mouth to not further embarrass you. Katsuki’s arms left you, but not before he righted you on your feet, hands lingering on your waist to stabilize you.

He ducked his head, maintaining eye contact while he checked if you were okay with a quirk of his brow. You could feel the heat projecting from your cheeks, and you were relieved he wasn’t holding you as tightly as before.

His vermillion eyes pierced into yours, and you began to realize how rich their color was. You hadn’t noticed how entrancing they were when you suddenly heard the most obnoxious non-whispering.

“Oh my god, this is exactly like the movies, Kaminari. They’re totally gonna make out right now.”

The purple-headed pervert was too busy mumbling inappropriate comments to himself to see an angry blond finally stepping away from you and walking his way. “And we get front-row seats. I wonder if they’re gonna have sex-”

Before Mineta could finish this piercing, a hand smacked him on the head, leaving him wailing. Katsuki leaned down, practically squatting to reach the boy’s height. “Wanna say that pervy shit again, hah?!”

“B-Bakugou, let’s calm down, shall we?” A nervous Kaminari stuttered out. He froze when Katsuki’s harsh glare turned to him. “You know what, never mind. Go- go ahead.”

Katsuki redirected his angry and annoyed attention back to Mineta, who was quivering and shaking like he feared for his life. With the murderous look on the blond’s face, Mineta had every right to feel that way.

Before Katsuki could teach the class pervert a well-deserved lesson, a yell came from the opening elevator doors. In the time you and Katsuki waited for the elevator and were now, unfortunately, dealing with Kaminari and Mineta, more people had loaded onto the elevator and joined your little party.

Iida immediately took notice of the situation and intervened in his class-president fashion. “Bakugou, while I’m sure you believe enacting justice will rid Mineta here of his inappropriate actions, you mustn’t resort to such violence!”

Upon having an audience and a decreasing tolerance, Katsuki grunted, releasing his tight grip on the boy, who rushed to safety far away from the blond, who then rolled his eyes.

“You say some weird shit like that again, and I’ll kill you. Got it, pipsqueak?!”

“Language!” Iida shouted, waving his arm around like he was directing traffic.

All the yelling and commotion was far too much on your tired and overworked body. You heaved a sigh as Iida reprimanded Katsuki and Mineta. Then Iida criticized himself as he was too loud.

Unbeknownst to you, Katsuki had noticed your despair, prompting him to grab your hand and shove past the group.

Before Iida could voice his grievances about Katsuki’s apparent rudeness, the blond smashed the elevator’s button closed. You blinked slowly at all of the action that just took place.

The elevator hadn’t even moved when you remembered that Katsuki was still holding your hand. As warmth dispersed throughout your body, you had one thought.

This is gonna be one long ride…

Your eyes were practically glued to the floor for the treacherously slow ride. You were acutely aware of Katsuki’s hand in yours, and it seemed your other bodily functions weren’t functioning.

You held your breath, afraid it would penetrate the little bubble the two of you were in. Your heartbeat quickened at an alarming rate, and if Bakugou couldn’t hear it, you were sure he could feel the warmth radiating off you.

You felt flushed from your head to your toes. You cursed your very being at the clammy sweat that had begun collecting on your palms because why, oh why, was your body reacting this way?

Your rhetorical question was answered with Katsuki’s burning gaze. If you felt the slightest heat emanating from your awkwardness, the way the blond was once again boring holes in you like you were a wannabe cheese grater made you feel on fire. And not in the empowering sense.

“Oi,” he grumbled to get your attention. You still didn’t trust yourself, so you acknowledged him with a mere hum and a head tilt. Out of the corner of your eyes, you spotted him rolling his, clearly discontent with your non-verbal answer.

Much to your delight, he didn’t air his grievances and got straight to the point. With a labored sigh, he grunted a statement you weren’t expecting.

“You’re hot.”

And that was when you died. Okay, you can admit that is a slight exaggeration. All that resulted when you tried to express how flabbergasted you were was a strangled squeak.

You certainly wished you were being strangled because maybe that would rid you of today’s perpetual mortification.

“If you’re careless, you’ll catch a fever.” Katsuki continued without a hitch as if he hadn’t witnessed your poor attempt at responding. Well, he is Bakugou Katsuki, so, of course, he noticed. Thankfully for you, he chose not to comment. Though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t catch his mouth twitching in a grin out of your periphery.

“R-Right!” There you go! Actual words like a human. Almost, at least. “I won’t be careless.” Okay, that was better.

The elevator dinged, and you could barely contain your relieved sigh. Finally! You were safe!

The dorm hall was empty, which you were grateful for because you could retreat to your room and replay every embarrassing aspect of today in your head without being interrupted.

You almost forgot you were holding Katsuki’s hand until you were tugged back as you went to exit the elevator. A startled ‘oh!’ escaped you as you prevented yourself from tripping again.

“Oi, dummy,” Katsuki’s gruff voice directed your attention to him. You blinked slowly with bated breath as you waited for him to continue. Of all the times your heart could be fluttering and doing intricate gymnastics, why was it now?

Oh, you know. It’s because of the way Katsuki looks down at you. There’s a look on his face that you can’t quite place. And he holds a wrinkle between his eyebrows, and you have half a mind to smooth it out with your fingers.

Would that be an excuse to touch his face? Absolutely. No one has to know. Besides, he is way too handsome, pretty, and all the other adjectives that accurately describe how attractive he is.

“Take care of yourself.” Aw, sweet, but a little uncanny. “Or I’ll kill you.” Ah, that’s the Bakugou I know.

“No worries!” You smiled, pleased to form actual coherent words and sentences. Your eyes closed as you beamed up at him, but if they had been open, you would have caught sight of the endearing look on the blond’s face.

✸-✸

To your luck, the weather was pleasant in the morning. You were well rested from the night before, taking Katsuki’s words earnestly. The chirping birds awoke you, and, unlike yesterday, you took your time getting ready for the day.

As you walked, the smell of dewy rain reached your nose, and you couldn’t help laughing at the complete change in weather. Once you made it to class and settled, a low grumble captured your attention. Tilting your head backward, you acknowledged the blond.

“Don’t slack off in training today, idiot.”

His harsh warning only brought a grin to your face. “As long as you don’t slack off either.”

“Hah?!” Katsuki practically shouted. “I never slack off. That’s your ass!”

You couldn’t even contain your snicker at his outburst, “Sure, sure.”

As you bickered - well, it was mostly just Bakugou - your friends surveyed the scene with knowing eyes.

“They’re so oblivious,” Kaminari sighed, resting his cheek on his palm. He had watched the both of you skirting around your feelings for months at this point, and it drove him and the rest of your friends up the wall.

“Kacchan has always been stubborn with his feelings,” Midoriya added as he leaned against Kirishima’s desk. “Ever since we were kids. But I’m happy that Kacchan has someone who makes him smile!”

As if he had a sixth sense, Katsuki stopped bickering with you and turned his attention to the watching group. His gaze narrowed, “The fuck are you extras staring at?!”

Before anyone could bear the wrath of Bakugou Katsuki, Iida intervened. “Bakugou, that is no way to address your fellow classmates! Besides, it is far too early to raise your voice as you are doing! Please calm down!”

The blond rolled his eyes, “You’re doing the same, Glasses.”

Your quiet breath of laughter as Iida attempted to correct himself was heard by Katsuki, who met your gaze. The corner of his mouth upturned, and you had to stop your heart from doing somersaults and reign in the hoard of butterflies that threatened to be released.

“Hey, Midoriya?” Kirishima asked, “Didn’t you say there was a fancy word for what they have?”

Midoriya racked his brain for a moment before nodding. “Well, the term could apply to anything. It’s not necessarily subject to one thing. Though I guess in their case, morosis could apply. In short, it’s defined as the stupidest of stupidities. I guess one might say that their obliviousness is morosis.”

“So basically, they’re just too dumb to see that they both like each other,” Kaminari affirmed, recalling how you and Katsuki looked at each other yesterday by the elevator. Sigh… if only he had someone that looked at him like that.

✸-✸-✸

#chaos-is-beautifvl #chaos.writes 🖋#bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou x gender neutral reader #bakugou x fem!reader

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