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gilverrwrites · 3 months

Note

If that ask was too long and elaborate, I have another one!

What about a fic with Batman, where the reader finds out she’s pregnant and doesn’t know how to tell Bruce since he already has mature/ teenager kids and she doesn’t know if he wants to raise one from the infant stage to adulthood.

She kinda overthinks about it and distance herself from Bruce. He notice it and when she would confess, to her surprise, Bruce would get super exited!

What I don't understand

AN: I'm back baby! At least partly, my hand is still on and off achy so I won't we posting as activiely as I have previously. I've done so much research on pregnancy that all my adds are now of pregancy tests, fertilitie test, baby stuff, I'm worried my bf might start to suspect that I'm pregnant which would be akward Bruce Wayne/F!Reader, 3.9K words CW: Husband/Wife dynamic, pregnancy, feet (none sexual), mentions of vomit, body dysmorphia, lying/sneaking around, prenatal anxiety/depression, martial problems, swearing. Fluffy ending tho!

Pregnancy brain is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Or maybe that's insanity, who knows? You ponder the thought as you fidget with the flimsy cardboard packaging of the pregnancy test you're awaiting the results of as if you don't know the answer. You'd already taken countless tests, trialling different brands in the hopes of a different outcome but every single one of them had confirmed your situation with variations on lines and plus signs. They'd never offered you a negative, and yet you keep trying.

There was no denying it, and pretty soon there would be no hiding. You were fast approaching the end of your first trimester at 9 weeks but had only found out about a month ago. The task of informing Bruce while there was still time to act seems to grow bigger and scarier with each passing day. Not to mention; it's becoming increasingly obvious that he already suspected something is wrong.

3 weeks ago:

The cold tile against your aching feet felt like ecstasy. You couldn’t help but close your eyes and lean against the wall, relishing in every second of release as you awaited Jason’s return.

You’d spend hours hiding your pain, precariously balancing in a pair of heels as you kept up appearances during a charity event being held at the manor. Bruce was currently being cornered by a visiting dignitary, and as bad as you felt leaving him alone, it might have been your only chance. You’d slipped away to an off-limits hallway, grasping Jason’s who had drawn the short straw for event appearances along the way. Once out of view to your guests you’d begged him to retrieve a pair of pumps from your bedroom, the petty prospect of keeping it secret from, and thus getting a one-up on his adoptive father being the primary motivator. That and he owed you, a lot, for defusing many situations in which he and your husband had butt heads.

The weight of your discarded shoes hung heavily from your fingers, you hadn’t realised how weighty they were. A shame, because they were so pretty. They were a gift from Bruce, strappy and bedazzled, the perfect colour to match your dress. Another pair for your ever-expanding collection, he’d always favoured gifting you shoes and purses, and you certainly didn’t mind, at least not until your ankles had begun swelling at the mere notion of being used for their primary function.

“Are you okay? You seem off.” Jason’s voice returning to the hall made you jump out of your stupor, and he watched with concern as you tucked your heels behind a curtain and slipped into the flats he’d brought you.

“Fine, fine.” You smile, patting his arm with a reassuring smile. “Just didn’t wear those in properly and now I’m paying the price.”

“Right.” He still seemed dubious and was about to say something else when a door creeks open, redirecting both of your attention.

Bruce stood in the doorway, stern, arms crossed. He glares at the both of you, he and Jason have a very similar glare. His eyes focus in on you, identifying you as the main culprit, his gaze roves across your form, lingering on your feet for an uncomfortably long time before speaking.

“If I have to suffer through this, so do the two of you.” He points behind him. “In.”

Jason’s face is obscured as he takes the lead, but Bruce must not like his expression because his frown seems to deepen.

You followed close behind, careful not to step on the hem of your dress now that you lack the additional six inches the heels had offered but your integration back into the crowd is halted. Bruce traced his hand along your back, cupping the curve of your waist and directing you to a lesser populated spot amongst the outskirts of your visitants.

The stony look on his face was gone, replaced with a polite smile for the crowd and softer eyes for you.

“What happened to your shoes?” His voice was low, in-perceivable to anyone but yourself.

“My feet were sore is all.” It’s not a lie.

“Too sore for dancing?” He asks, voice as slick as silk and you don’t want to agree but yes, they are too sore dancing. Not to mention you’d gotten nauseous from standing up too quickly only hours earlier but damn if you didn’t want to dance with your husband. Want to feel his chest against yours, his hands on your curves, admire the smile on his face. There are few things you enjoy more than any form of intimacy with Bruce.

“Maybe later.” You sighed, “I think I need to sit down for a while.”

2 weeks ago:

‘Breast changes are another very early sign of pregnancy. Your hormone levels rapidly change after the egg is fertilized. Because of these changes, your breasts may become swollen, sore, or tingly.’

You groaned aloud, rereading the entry on WebMD once more. You hadn’t expected your breasts to change so early on, incorrectly assuming any swelling or pain would be a result of breast milk, but you were wrong.

Believing you had the house to yourself, you figure now was as good a time as any to read up on more early pregnancy symptoms, to correct any other misconception you might have. You were midway through reading about progesterone and how it causes constipation when your laptop pinged.

A notification popped up in the corner of the screen, a DM from UserDC27, Bruce’s bat-server codename. You click to open the message and audibly gasp when a screenshot of your browsing history greets you, framed in red with its own ‘suspicious activity’ notification in the corner.

‘Pregnancy trimesters in weeks’ ‘Swollen breasts pregnant’ ‘Early pregnancy symptoms’

Amongst all the suspicious browsing habits of this family, of course yours had flagged up! Fucking ridiculous!

UserDC27: ? UserRI01: For a friend UserRI01: dw UserRI01: Love you x UserDC27: is typing… UserRI01: has signed out.

1 weeks ago:

“Good morning.” A familiar voice greeted you, strong hands slink around your body, brushing against your back and hips before settling on your stomach. What should have been a sweet moment frightened you, disturbing you from your train of thought and causing you to almost spill your morning decaf coffee.

“Woah there.” Bruce laughed, the warmth and proximity of him soothing you quickly. He effortlessly took the mug from your hands and settled it on the kitchen island so he could pull you closer without spillage.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, turning your head to rest it against his chest. The strength of his cologne is always so much stronger in the mornings, the scent of the man you love, of citrus and woodsiness does wonders to comfort your frantic brain no matter the time or place. “Just lost in thought.”

After a second you realise your mistake, you’ve allowed him an opening to ask what you’re thinking about and that exact moment certainly did not feel like the right time, what with Damian in the next room. You should be alone, completely alone.

He surprises you however, always one for keeping everyone on their toes, by spinning you around to face him and telling you, “I don’t think that’s it.”

“What do you think it is?” You tried to keep your voice airy, relaxed, unsuspicious but even you can hear the guilt in your tone.

“I think you’re tired.” He watches you with a playful glint in his eye, but the next words out of his mouth are accusatory no matter how light his tone is. “Where are you sneaking off to in the mornings, oh wife of mine?”

“W-what?” You heard him fine, you were stalling while you calculated a response. You had been sneaking off in the mornings and the fact that he’s asking so playfully, as opposed to interrogating which he is not unknown to do even with you, means he knows more than he’s letting on.

Bruce isn’t exactly an early riser, often too tired from long nights of crime fighting and case filing, but he is a light sleeper. Always on alert. He’d already caught you in a bought of morning sickness once. Roused by the unpleasant noises you’d been making. You’d lied about it, citing an upset tummy from something you’d eaten. You weren’t sure which was worse, the vomiting, the sombre expression he’d given you as he approached to rub your back throughout, or the look of horror on Alfred’s face when Bruce had brought up your supposed food poisoning later that day.

Ever since you’d purposely been rising early and sneaking off to dispel any nausea in one of the many guest bedrooms.

“Nowhere, I’m just becoming more of a morning person I guess.”

He eyed you sceptically, and you thought you might crack under the pressure. His hands reach up to cup your face, preventing you from turning away. His touch is so gentle, so soft for a man of his stature. “You can tell me anything, you know that?”

“Of course.”

As if you couldn’t feel worse he adds; “I miss waking up to you beside me.”

“Oh Brucie-“

You’re already on your tip toes, ready to concede, to apologise, to shower your sullen husband with kisses when you’re saved by the signal. Literally, a call from Duke 'The Signal' Thomas, with a reminder of your apprehension; an active situation that needed Batman’s participation.

Your relationship, and now marriage to Bruce had always hinged on an unspoken understanding that Gotham comes first. Even with Tim taking over most of his responsibilities at Wayne Tech, Bruce simply does not have enough time to raise a baby. You can't expect him to take turns with the nighttime feeds, with the frequent nappy changes, with the constant attention an infant will need.

You’ve no doubt Alfred would delight in assisting you, he's been dropping hints about wanting a baby Brucie since the engagement, and you love him very much but if you’re to raise a baby, you want to do it with your husband, not his butler.

That’s presuming your husband even wants a child. Another child. He already has enough children to populate a small village. Children with lives of their own. Children who in some way or another have followed in his vigilante footsteps. You think of the stress and trauma each of them has faced, and how it has affected them and their father. You think of Steph and her tremulous relationships with Bruce and Arthur. Of Jason’s deaths, plural. Of Dicks ineptitude to form meaningful relationships with anyone outside of the lifestyle. Of all the childhoods so many, but especially Cass and Damian missed out on. Could you be responsible for putting another child through any of that?

Furthermore, if your child wanted to live this life, could you really stop them? Nobody stopped Tim. Nobody stopped Barbara, when Jim had tried it only caused the rift between them to grow bigger.

Could Bruce stop your unborn child? Would he want to?

Speak of the Oracle. The chime of your phone draws you out of your spiral of perinatal anxieties. It’s Barbara, informing the girls-only group chat that she’s running late for lunch. Crap. You’d completely forgotten that you’d promised the girls lunch and shopping. Barbara had some tech on hold, Steph wanted to try the new caramel cookie waffles at Goodilicious, and Cass needed new boots whether she knew it or not.

Hurriedly, you shove the used test into a previously disused makeup bag that is now full of other used tests. It's starting to smell, but you don't have time to figure out how to stealthily throw it out, so you hide it at the back of a cupboard behind a basket of sanitary products before rushing out the door.

Later

Catching up with the girls had been fun, it had really helped you forget about your predicament and just relax for a while, but it had also taken a lot out of you, keeping you out well past dinner. Your body just was not functioning as well as it used to, for obvious reasons.

Upon returning to the mansion you’d made it to the ground floor lounge, feet too sore to even consider the stairs, and collapsed on the closest couch, exerting just enough energy to pry your shoes and sock off of your swollen feet prior to falling asleep. Just a quick nap you tell yourself, to regain some energy, you’ll be right as rain in time for Damian’s bedtime. He’s old enough now to put himself to bed, especially given that he often patrols with his father until the early hours of the morning, but tonight is his night off and you’d always make the effort to wish him sweet dreams when you can.

You’re awoken by the feel of calloused fingers pressing into the arches of your feet. You hadn’t heard him enter, but Bruce is sitting on the arm of the couch, in nothing but sweatpants and slippers. Between his bare chest and cowl hair, he is a welcome sight, bruised chest and freshly cut lip and all.

“What happened to you?” You ask, voice husky from your impromptu nap. You manage to draw your eyes away from Bruce long enough to check the time on an antique wall clock, it’s 4 AM. You’d far exceeded a nap. “Where’s Damian?”

“Nothing I couldn’t handle. Damian is asleep. When you didn’t wish him a goodnight he came to look for you, that’s how I knew you were here.” He asserts. He looks at you with a furrowed brow and pinched lips, working his thumb into the arch of your feet with just enough pressure to make you mewl in relief. “Are you punishing me for something?”

The question hits you like a ton of bricks, it’s not without merit. You hadn’t intended to spend the night on the couch, but you can understand how it must look to him, especially in tangent with the ways in which you had intentionally been avoiding him; sneaking out in the mornings, not allowing him to see your naked body for fear that he’ll notice your swollen breasts, and growing belly. You hadn’t had sex in at least three weeks.

All at once you are overcome with remorse. You’d been so consumed with the pregnancy and how best to approach the subject with Bruce that you hadn’t stopped to think how your actions would weigh on him. He’s so strong, your anchor, an unchanging presence for the whole family. He locks himself and his emotions behind the big bad bat or billionaire Brucie so well that sometimes he forgets he has them. Sometimes you forget. Even now, clearly hurting and concerned for his marriage, he’s rubbing your feet.

“No of course not Bruce, I’m sorry…” your mind starts to form the end of your apology ‘I was just so tired’ or ‘it’s been a long day’ and they wouldn’t be lies but they’re not the right thing to say. You can’t keep postponing for the ‘right moment’ that will never come, can’t keep chickening out. He needs to know the truth. “I’m- I’m pregnant.”

You’re not sure how you’d expected him to respond really. You’d feared anger, hoped for joy but instead, he continues to stare at you, his brows raising in a way that implied he needed more information. He swaps your left foot for your right as he awaits your resumption. When you don’t speak he nods and states; “I know.”

“You know?” As though possessed your tired body launches into an upright seated position. “How could you know?”

Bruce smiles in response, an amused, tight-lipped ‘Are you kidding?’ smile.

“Well, to name a few things;” he counts off each observation on his fingers. “You’ve stopped wearing heels because your ankles are constantly swollen, your breasts are also noticeably swollen even under your clothes, you now only drink decaf, you seemingly have ‘food poisoning’ every morning and at no other time of day, a massive increase in urination, and my personal favourite, the bag full of positive pregnancy tests behind a crate-full of menstrual products that haven’t been used in almost three months.”

He’s trying to hide it, but he’s smug about his own detective skills. His mouth might be straight but there’s a fire in his eyes that has you drawing your legs away from him with a huff, abruptly ending the massage you had been enjoying. “How long have you known?”

“I’d had my suspicions for about 6 weeks, but I wasn’t certain until I found your stash last week.” Typical of Bruce to have figured out you were pregnant before you’d known yourself. “What I don’t understand, is why you didn’t tell me. Why you’ve been lying.”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have kept this from you. I was going to but…” You trail off, straightening your thoughts as best you can and finding your composure, preparing to begin monologuing about your concerns. “I didn’t know how you’d feel about it, what with you know, already having so many kids. Everyone but Damian has flown the nest, Dick and Babs are married! They’re all so grown up, do you really want to start again? And then…”

Conscious of your rambling you cut yourself off, looking to Bruce for reassurance that you’re not talking too much, that he’s not offended by your worries. He consoles you by coming closer, sitting on the cushion beside you and easily coaxing your legs over his. His firm hands are gentle as they grasp your knee.

“And what?” He questions.

“I wasn’t sure how I feel, I wanted to figure that out before talking to you.”

“What do you think you feel about it?”

“I think I want to have your baby Bruce, our baby.” So caught up in your thoughts, you hadn’t noticed your husband’s hands creeping higher and higher up your body until a hand settles on your stomach, his thumb stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You’d been so self-conscious of its growth but as you look at it now, under Bruce’s sturdy fingers, you realise it isn’t much bigger than it had been pre-pregnancy. How tedious your problems seemed when voiced and put into perspective, except maybe one. “I’m just not sure about how… well I guess I never thought about raising a child within your lifestyle.”

“I understand.” He nods, confirming his statement. He’s done well to keep his face soft but neutral throughout, a staple of his Batman facade but also a careful way not to let his own emotions interfere with yours.

“What do you think?” He looks down at your abdomen as he considers his words. You follow his gaze, watching as his fingers lift your top, exposing your skin to him. Without warning he lowers himself to pepper your belly with gentle kisses, the ticklish motion causes you to giggle and writhe beneath him.

When he looks up at you again he’s smiling, the motion causing the scab on his lip to split and bleed. Without thought you pull yourself closer to him, using his broad shoulders as leverage. Once close enough you dab at the minor wound with your thumb soaking up the fluid as best you can and examining the cut to ensure no further damage.

Bruce watches you intently the whole time, cupping your face in his hand when you appear satisfied. The adoration in his eyes makes you feel sheepish even after everything you’ve been through together.

“I think,” his voice is low, sincere. “I couldn’t be happier to be growing our family together. I think this child, like all our children, will be lucky to have you as a mother, whatever life they choose to lead.”

The amount of pent-up tension in your body had not been apparent to you until now. Until your body noticeably lightens in response to his words. The relief of no longer sneaking around, no more fretting over how he might react has you wishing you’d done this a long time ago.

“Bruce?” You sag into his chest, breathing him in. His arms unconsciously wrap around you in response, pulling you in for a tighter embrace. “We’re having a baby.”

“Were are having a baby.” He confirms, pressing more, tender kisses to your neck, the curve of a smile apparent as his lips press to your exposed skin. "I've been waiting for this moment since the day we me. But, I think it’s time we got to bed, it’s late.”

Swift and practiced, Bruce lifts you from the couch, cradling you in the bridal position. You stretch to check the clock, 4:34 AM.

“Technically it’s early.” You jest, expecting him to punish your cheek by jolting you in the air or throwing you over his shoulder as he normally does, but instead, he chides you with an amused glare, clearly too concerned about the baby for play fighting.

“Neither of us has been to bed, it’s late.” His grip tightens on your body as he makes his way up the stairs, one steady step at a time. “And I expect my wife to be in our bed when I wake up.”

“Hmmm.” Your morning sickness has eased in the last few days, you’d only persisted in sneaking out to be safe, but he doesn’t need to know that just yet. “I’ll try, but I might be in our bathroom.”

“I can cope with that. At least then I can care for you. And we can throw out your hoard.” You don’t fuss over the likelihood of him having to rush off to save the day or for an urgent board meeting, you just throw your head back, laughing at yourself for trying to hide anything from Bruce.

When you reach the bedroom he lays you in the bed and climbs over your form. He’s in full caretaker mode, a manner you could get used to. He carefully removes your clothes, offers to redress you in your sleepwear and to bring you your lotions, or anything you should need from the bathroom.

Dawn is breaking behind your blackout curtains by the time you’re both settled in bed, entangled in each other’s arms. Sleep has nearly taken you again when Bruce whispers; “I do have one other thought.”

“Oh?" You peer at him curiously over your shoulder. "Yes dear?”

“I think you should be the one to tell Damian.”

His request hangs heavy in the air as you consider the implication. “Tell Damian that he will no longer be your only blood child?”

The room remains silent, he doesn’t expand because you know what he’s getting at. Damian probably won’t mind, because he’ll still be the oldest, the first in line and you’re certain he’ll be a wonderful older brother, he’s great with animals, so why not babies? Right?

“… That's not fair.”

“Think of it as penance for lying to me all month.” There’s an air of humour in his voice as he pulls you closer still, squeezing himself into your back and planting sleepy kisses against your neck. “Besides, he’ll probably take it better from you. I think he likes you more.”

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne/reader #bruce wayne x reader #batman #batman/reader #batman x reader #dc #reader insert #gilverrwrites #f reader

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crosbyism · 25 days

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"but then again this is the guy who’s publically known for loving to eat ass so"

I'm sorry, I thought Nate eating ass was fanon. Are you telling me this is an actual canon fact??

god i love when people don’t realise how much “fanon” around sid and nate is actually canon. it’s like heroin to me. also bc it’s like. 90% of the stuff in fics (which is probably why people assume it’s fanon but. oh boy it’s not. there’s shockingly little fanon around these two, mostly because canon is so abundant).

yes, nathan mackinnon is a known ass-eater. let me direct you to this post, anon. you’re welcome.

other nate (and sid) facts you might not have realised are canon:

nate is a known advocate for therapy. he’s been seeing a sports therapist since 2017

they wear matching clothing all the fucking time, sid has said publicly that he started wearing white sneakers and updated his wardrobe due to nate’s influence (iirc nate might’ve even bought him his first pair of white sneakers? either that or it was a “he told me i need to so i did” situation). they share a tailor. unfortunately i now have to bring your attention to the fact that since they have an alarming amount of matching clothes that they’ve bought for each other, that means that they in fact have to know each other’s clothing sizes off by heart. they also low-key share clothing btw

their families celebrate canada day together and their dads are best friends. in-law behaviour goes crazy

nate did in fact stalk his way into sid’s heart (got the same personal trainer and agent at age 13; built his house next door in 2017; they’ve been spending every day in the summers together since at least 2015. sid cooks for them daily, or at least did pre-pandemic. sid refuses to use nate’s gym tho so they always use sid’s).

nate used to have a fan twitter account more or less where he rooted for the pens. it was active until 2017.

sid and nate regularly go to summer weddings together as each other’s dates. they have done this since, once again, at least 2015

nate has confirmed that he used to have a poster of sid on his wall as a teenager (he didn’t confirm he used to jerk off to it but frankly. i think that’d be saying the quiet part out loud)

when sid won the cup in 2009 and held the parade in cole harbour, nate stood by the side of the road watching it. he was about to turn 14, he was already working with sid’s trainer and agent, and he was about to start attending shattuck (sid’s junior high). due to old pics we also know that this was RIGHT before nate had his first growth spurt and hit puberty. i’m not saying seeing sid with the cup kickstarted nate’s puberty and gave him his first boner but i’m not NOT saying it

nate dated vanessa morgan of riverdale fame in his rookie year. she’s now good friends with elias petersson from the vancouver canucks (this means nothing but i do think it’s a very funny coincidence).

nate schmidt, formerly of the VGK, once failed a drug test (it turned out to be a testing-fuck-up); when nhl players were asked about it natemack iconically said “i don’t think he was sticking a needle up his ass” (i just like this one)

when he was a kid, the one other thing sid wanted to be was a hairdresser. nate, on the other hand, “didn’t have a plan B”

nate is canonically possessive of sid (see: the asg 2024) and sid is canonically delighted by this and into it

they go on so many lunch dates in the summer my dude. they go grocery shopping together. like there’s so many pics of them in grocery stores or out having coffee or weird green shakes

oh i almost forgot, they went on a roadtrip through ireland last year. they’ve been on holiday together multiple times over the years though. done some eurotripping together and stuff. in 2015 they spent three months together, three weeks of which were spent living in sid’s santa monica condo together just the two of them

sid has put up a picture of every stanley cup winning captain in his basement since 2008, when the pens lost in the scf to DET. apparently this serves as motivation for him to win the cup. he notoriously does not watch the playoffs after the pens are out

however, he partied so hard at nate’s cup party he actually closed down the party with his dad. nate is the only non-teammate sid’s ever been seen supporting for a cup run (he’s also never been to his teammates’ cup parties afaik so. there’s that)

also they talked on the phone daily and between periods during nate’s cup run. they also canonically have almost weekly phone dates that can run multiple hours. quote nate “i can’t talk to anyone else the way i can talk to him”

they each have pictures of the two of them together framed in each other’s houses

there’s rumours they’re building adjoining houses on neighbouring properties in cape breton next to a golf course bc apparently being neighbours in halifax isn’t enough or something. this one is as yet unconfirmed by reputable sources though

#god there’s so much #anyway please refer to the primer if you wanna know more #sidnate #squidney crocsby #natty mac #kookanswers #anon #long post

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nyarumie · 1 month

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hii dropping by to say i love your works sm !! since you mentioned abt narumi requests, id like to make one :3

how aboutt narumi randomly feeling hungry during his game night and when he goes to find food he sees reader! so they end up making/getting food tgt all domestic and fluffy (if you’re cooking bro is definitely not thinking abt wifing u up uhhhh), feel free to create any setting you’d like for the scenario hihi

(also this might or might not be an excuse for me to ask u to become moots aha)

Food Impact! (Oneshot)

narumi gen x reader — pure fluff, more fluff, and even more fluff! sweet and gentle narumi, established relationship, the kitchen staff are eavesdropping on them, spoiler alert: they made a mess in the kitchen.

Author's Note: Readers, please search up the food name references I included here to get the entire picture of what they're trying to make <3

Author's Reply: hi, rye! I think we're already mutuals (at least, it's what my notif bar says? i know im already following u tho! i love your works too <3 it inspired me to write and post too, to be honest) thank you for this request i totally had fun writing it and helped me with my writer's block (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ id love to interact more too!

Cross-posted on ao3. Ask box is open, and masterlist can be found on my pinned. Have fun reading, everyone!

The sight that greeted Hasegawa has an unusual factor.

Stacked yamazon boxes, check.

Littered cans and bottles, check.

Neglected blankets and pillows, check.

An unbothered Captain on his futon playing his BS5, gone.

Or maybe he's just being dramatic. Narumi is actually there, albeit not stuck in front of his huge ass TV for once. Rather, he's shockingly seated behind his office table, adorning a serious expression while giving his laptop an intense focus.

His Vice Captain is rendered speechless. Was he seeing things? The First Division’s Captain… is actually doing work?

“Hasegawa. What is it? I’m busy here.” he said, hands busy on his laptop.

Oh, he's been staring at him for the past 5 minutes, mouth agape. Regaining his composure, he stated his business. “Your presence is requested for an interview. I believe I sent you the notice first thing in the morning.” But is it right to be disturbing him when he’s finally working—a rarer than once in a blue moon occasion?

“Requested, not required. Don't care, won't care.”

“...Then I’ll ask her to do it in your stead.”

“Don't. She's helping me with my work.”

Sighing, Hasegawa turned around to leave, surprisingly not picking Narumi up like a helpless cat to make him attend the interview.

Once Narumi heard the door click, the corner of his lips turned up, unable to stop the smug, triumphant grin from forming. “Hah, too easy! I’m busy working alright, my ass is practically burning from sitting here all day!”

In truth, the laptop Narumi specifically requested when he was promoted as Captain is a gaming laptop. He had somehow convinced the higher ups that its specifications are far greater than anything most officers can handle and is fitting for his position as Captain. Not that they know what it really is, of course.

He has been playing Jenshin Ympact the moment his office shift started. You had practically begged him yesterday to grind for you, saying that you’ll handle his paperworks worth a week’s job as long as he gets your desired character and weapon. “Why won’t she just top-up on this game? We have all the money to get every single character. What a bummer.”

Not that he understands why you’re willing to shoulder his paperworks over playing a game. Nothing’s enjoyable about paperworks at all! But you complained that your back was hurting from grinding, and who was he to reject such a good offer? That means a grumpy Hasegawa would appear less on his doorstep.

Complaints can be heard from him as he speedruns a side quest, mumbling about how the NPCs are too helpless. “What the… why do most NPCs ask for food here? What kind of adventurer doesn’t bring any food with them?”

Karma seemed to have hit him, his stomach growling too loud for his liking.

Ignoring it, he continued, still insulting every single unimportant character here and there. “Boo. Shut up. Don't like you. Go away. I hope you get eaten by a slime—”

And an even angrier sound came from his stomach.

“Fine! I’ll grab something to eat.”

What he meant by grab something to eat, is grab you to get the both of you something to eat. He refuses to eat anything without you, finding it more enjoyable doing mundane things with you around. His stomach has been empty since morning, wanting to get an early start on his grind.

He sulkily made his way towards your own room, knowing that you've been just as cooped up as him in your respective offices.

Not bothering to knock, he calmly opened the door, instantly finding you still working on his paperworks, desk situated across your door.

His familiar presence caught your attention, eyes lighting up in joy at the sight of him. “Gen! What brings you here? Do you need anything?”

Without a word, he gently grabbed your wrist and pulled you up, making you drop your pen in the process.

Confused, you tried calling him again. “Gen?”

“Mhm… heard you. Just come with me.”

“Alright.” You smiled, his uncharacteristically calm demeanor endearing you. He was often like this with you, as if your very existence is his source of peace.

A comfortable silence lingered as you let him lead you to his your destination. Halfway there, you finally recognized the route to the cafeteria.

‘Oh, he's just hungry.’ you thought. ‘But wouldn't he prefer instant meals or deliveries instead of going all the way here?’

But instead of going straight to the self-service counter, he turned and made his way to the kitchen instead. Wait, are you even allowed there? Sure, he's the Captain, but he's not a cook!

He finally let go of your wrist, unceremoniously opening the large door, earning shocked stares from the kitchen staff and making them pause their job.

You pulled at his sleeve. “Gen—”

“Is there an available cooking station here?” he asked.

The staff looked at each other, obviously baffled. “Uhm, Captain Narumi, sir; there is. But it's at the far end of the Kitchen…” a cook said, pointing towards the station.

“Good. We’ll be using it undisturbed.”

Gen continued making his way forward, with you holding the cuff of his sleeve to ease your nerves. You offered an apologetic look at every person you made eye contact with as you both made your way through. He still hasn't said anything as to why you're here of all places, confusing you further.

He came to an abrupt stop once you reached ‘your’ station. It's time to get to the bottom of this.

“Gen, did you say we'll be using this cooking station? Are we actually cooking?”

He faced you, his arms crossing. Suddenly, he looked a bit bashful. “Yeah. That's what I said.”

Raising your brow, you tried prying more information from him. “And what exactly are we gonna cook?”

“Ahem. So I saw this food while playing Jenshin Ympact…” He pulled out his phone, showing you a screenshot of the food.

Invigorating Kitty Meal.

Giggles threatened to spill from your lips. No wonder he wants to make it yourselves.

He swiped the photo to another screenshot. “And there's this other one. You love mushrooms, I thought you'd want something simple to eat.” Milky Mushroom Crisp Tower. How cute, he was also thinking of you!

“They look pretty fun and easy to make. However… Both of us don't know how to cook, Gen.” you frowned.

“But you just said it looks easy to make. There's two of us, that should be good enough, yeah?” he pouted.

Fondly, you sighed. He’s being too adorable right now, you just can't say no to him. “Alright, we’ll try. If it turns out good, you’ll marry me, won't you?” you joked.

He brightened up at this, pushing his hair back, determined to make his kitty meal. “Consider it done.”

After thoroughly examining the screenshots, you personally approached a few people stationed in the kitchen, asking them which ingredients would best suit your planned meal. With a couple of pieces of advice here and there, you and Gen started to put the plan in motion.

He passes you a rather large bowl full of rice, busying yourself with shaping it to form a cat, filling its inside with mayo tuna. He tasked himself with (trying) to cook the steak while watching the eggs boil, which you doubted at first, earning you a complain from him (‘Hey! You're on the same boat as I am; can't cook, can't question!’)

Cooking the steak is quite the task, so you decided to handle your mushroom toast yourself.

You poorly sliced up the mushroom and tossed it in a small pot filled with a cup of thick cream and easily melted cheese. Not hard at all!

You leave it be and checked on Gen, who you find struggling with not burning the steak. “Need help?”

“I’m fine! It's just that this is totally not beginner friendly, that's all!”

“...Gen, the eggs are overcooked.” A series of curses left his mouth as he hurriedly took them off the boiling water, and his nose scrunched up on the smell of something burning.

“Your mushroom! The heat is turned all the way up!” Now it was your turn to panic.

After a couple of errors from both your ends, it was safe to say that you've finally reached the final task of your newly found skill.

You were carefully carving some seaweed, cheese, and ham as the final touches to his rice kitty’s facial features. Gen was standing behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he watched your art, humming to himself. He seemed pleased despite the mess you both made.

“Let's cook again someday.” he said.

You snort, “Speaking too soon? You won't say that if this turns out bad.”

“Nahh. Not if I’ll marry you.”

You laugh, taking it as a joke. You feel him perch his head on your shoulder, face turning into a frown. “I wasn't joking! Here, have this.”

He took your hand, putting a seaweed ring on your finger. You giggled again, your heart can't take him sometimes. “I didn't mean to laugh at you. You're being too adorable today! Let's eat these right here before they spoil.”

He looked too sad to see the kitty get devoured, sulking despite how good it surprisingly tasted. And yours wasn't too bad either, glad that you were able to salvage whatever was left from the burnt mushroom sauce.

“ ‘M definitely gonna marry you someday.” he suddenly said.

Your head whipped towards him so fast, only to find him munching on his meal, face serious. “Food so good it got you saying that again?”

He shook his head. “Don't you want me as your husband?” he whined.

You felt your face flush, suddenly aware that he meant what he said. “Go put on a real ring on me first. Then I'll take you as my husband.” you teased.

Looking thoughtful, he hummed. “I can wait just fine. It arrives tomorrow.”

Wait. What?

“What arrives… tomorrow?”

“The ring.” he said, matter-of-factly.

You faced him fully, mouth wide open. He’s dropping this information way too casually!

Sensing your stare, he also turned to look at you, food still in hand. “What? If you're worried about the size, I got it covered.”

“You're crazy. When did you purchase it?”

“Hmm… a couple of weeks ago. When I heard you scolding Hasegawa for disturbing me, saying I needed rest for carrying No. 1’s eyes on a daily basis. No one dares to scold him like that! So I decided to promote you as my wife!” he proudly said.

You tug at the front of his clothes, pulling him closer. “I want to kiss you right now.”

He set his food down, placing his hands on your waist. His eyes seemed to sparkle with mirth. “Then, as the Captain of the First Division, I grant you special permission to kiss me.”

And with that, you closed the distance between you, feeling the both of you smile in your kiss.

Bonus:

Unbeknownst to the both of you, the kitchen staff were eavesdropping the entire time. Who would’ve thought that this is how good their Captain's romantic life is?

You two were so absorbed in your own little bubble, failing to notice the suppressed squeal from a staff that was tasked to spy on you when you kissed. Seems like you forgot there were other people around you.

The staff went back to the others, meeting their expectant gazes. Wordlessly, they gestured their ring finger and acted out a kiss. It was comical, but the message was well-received nonetheless. It became an unspoken rule to keep what happened that night amongst themselves, wanting to respect your and the Captain's joyous moment.

#kaiju no. 8 #axia writes for fun #kn8 x reader #kn8 writing #gen narumi #kaiju number 8 #narumi gen x reader #narumi fluff #narumi x reader #narumi gen #narumi gen fluff

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quin-ns · 2 years

Text

Complicated (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.1K

Summary: joel lets the fear of losing you get twisted and ends up pushing you away. he realizes his mistake when you get hurt

Tags: cw: violence (not from joel), angst, fighting, possessive!joel, implied stalking, joel’s bad behavior is mostly ambiguous so take that however it suits you, reader is a badass, injury, hurt/comfort, very complicated relationship, but also humor and fluff (this really isn’t as dark as it sounds I promise), making up

A/N: wanted to try something with more angst for a change. also wanna start exploring joel being a lil darker than I usually write him since he showed that side in the last few eps. not full dark yet tho. I actually weirdly wrote it with a lot of internal humor with the reader.

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

“Joel—stay away from me,” you warned, jaw clenched and gaze hardened.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, trying to come up with a response. Something that could calm you down and make you just see that he was trying to protect you.

Joel lifted his hands and held them in front of himself, as if he was approaching a scared animal. Or maybe a dangerous one. He silently pleaded with you, the look on his face trying to emphasize his point. I’m not a threat.

Maybe not at first, but now you weren’t so sure.

“Please, we can talk about this.”

God, did he have to make this harder? “I’m asking you as someone who you care about; please just give me some space.”

Joel’s frown deepened. He was starting to realize he couldn’t get out of this one. “For how long?”

You let out a tired sigh. “I don’t know,” you admitted. “Just… leave me alone.” You turned your back on him then, retreating to your apartment in the QZ.

For the first time in a long while, Joel made no attempt to follow you.

For a week, you hadn’t seen Joel. Like, at all.

That almost made you more nervous than catching a glance of him once in a while just out an about.

Being without Joel was an unfamiliar feeling, and a part of you screamed that it just wasn’t right. You weren’t dependent upon him, it wasn't that. You had just become so accustomed to his presence that looking over to your side and finding you were all alone was jarring.

That feeling was extra high as you packed your bag, on your way to meet up with a contact and make a trade.

You looked over your shoulder constantly, kept your hood up, and stayed out of eyeline from the cameras as best you could as you made your way to the meeting spot.

For something like this, you missed Joel. Well, not missed him. You didn’t miss him. It was the smart thing to do, he was getting too overbearing.

Although, you’d believe that a little more if you weren’t aware of the fact that you were trying to convince yourself.

You shook your head, physically trying to rid those thoughts from your mind. It was just a simple trade. Sure, when you were with Joel you felt safer. You could fight, but Joel could kill. Sure, there was safety in numbers. Being a woman alone at night wasn’t ideal and this was a rough business. And sure, you didn’t recognize the two men approaching you and…

Wait.

Where was your contact? The only way they could’ve found you is because of him (you never learned his name).

“Who the hell are you?” you questioned, hand drifting to the gun on your hip.

“Liam sent us,” one of them said.

You hummed, more so to yourself. So that was his name. “Alright, well, that doesn’t answer my question.”

“Don’t worry about it,” the other one said. “Do you have it?”

You relented, but maintained a reasonable level of suspicion. You reached for your bag and swung it off of your back. You pulled out a bag of pills that you and Joel had smuggled in.

Maybe after the deal, you’d split the money with him. Or at least give him a third. Yeah, that was better. You were taking all the risk right here right now.

“You know the price?” you asked, scanning their faces in the dark. It was hard though, you couldn’t really make out any of their features. It put you on edge even more so.

“Yeah,” the same guy said. He slung a backpack off of his back and let it fall to the ground. He crouched down and unzipped it.

As he reached into the bag, a bad energy edged over you. Your instincts were right. The guy pulled out a gun and with no hesitation, he fired recklessly in your direction. Not a single bullet connected thankfully, but this was not a good situation to be in.

“Really?” you asked out loud, annoyed. You weren’t expecting either of them to answer.

The other guy suddenly charged at you, tackling you to the ground. You managed to pull your gun in the struggle, but he knocked it out of your hand. Bastard was strong.

Thankfully he didn’t have a gun, but the pocket knife he pulled out didn’t look much fun.

Your heart slammed against your ribcage as you fought against him. His buddy had run off after realizing that his shots had missed. Probably wouldn’t have had the guts to kill you anyway if missing spooked him enough.

The guy you were wrestling against, though, did have the guts. And that wasn’t good news for you as he got the upper hand.

You hardly registered the pain as the stranger's knife plunged into your abdomen. He released the handle as you fell backward, thinking that the blade had done the job. In a quick motion, running on adrenaline, you yanked the knife from your own body and slashed at the assailant as he leaned over you. The blade connected with his neck.

Maybe he didn’t deserve the death penalty for the attack, but it was you or him. He made that clear. And you weren’t about to succumb to death from some overzealous thug. No way in hell.

Blood hit your skin in heavy drops that slowly became a gush. You heard the thud of his body before you registered his weight on half of your body. You scrambled out from under him, scraping against rocks and dirt as you dragged yourself across the ground and away from your assailant.

You laid on your back and stared up at the sky. There was some light saturation from the QZ, but you were grateful it wasn’t enough to totally erase the stars. You reached down, blindly, trying to cover your wound and put pressure on it.

You let your eyes slide shut for a moment as pain started to erupt from the wound. You heard footsteps and a male voice that sounded muffled by the time it hit your ringing ears.

Larger hands gently nudged yours out of the way as he took over applying pressure to the wound with one hand.

You didn’t have to open your eyes to know who it was, but you did anyway.

You wished you could’ve been surprised to find Joel kneeling at your side, but you knew him all too well.

“If you’re gonna stalk me…” you took a heaving breath in. “…you could at least save me quicker,” you wheezed out.

“I know, sweetheart.” He actually sounded guilty, like it was somehow his fault. Despite everything that had gone wrong, it was a brief reminder that Joel did care for you. Even if it had crossed the line from protectiveness into something darker. Obsession was the word you had used before, when you found out the lengths he was going to in order to keep an eye on you.

“I’m getting tired of you treating me like property,” you told Joel, trying to open his eyes to what he was doing. “It’s like an obsession and that’s not normal. You have to know that.”

“I’m just trying to keep you safe,” Joel argued.

You scoffed. “You don’t get to just say that as if it’s a justification for everything.”

Joel would disagree. And that was the problem.

Joel ran his hand up the side of your face, calloused fingers grazing skin until he was able to brush strands of hair out of your face. “I should’ve been here to watch out for you. Should’ve never let you out of my sight.”

You scoffed out a laugh, the slightest bit of blood trickling from the corner of your mouth. “That’s not the lesson I want you to learn from this.”

“Lesson? Jesus, Y/N,” Joel said, sounding somewhere between offended and dismissive. “I’m gonna lift you now, okay? Take you and get you patched up.”

Joel tucked his arms under you then, hoisting you up. You groaned and Joel carried you bridal style towards the infirmary—you couldn’t be sure where he was going, actually, but it was a good guess. You didn’t want to think about what would happen when the Fedra doctors found out what happened…

The rapidly decreasing adrenaline sent you into a dizzied state. It was like the world around you was spinning incredibly fast and then just stopped. Your ears were ringing and maybe the injury wouldn’t kill you, but fuck did it hurt.

The pain was overwhelming, and your last coherent thought was one expressing gratefulness to your own body for sending you into unconsciousness to avoid dealing with the pain.

That, and registering the scared look on Joel’s face as he watched your eyes slide shut. You hardly ever saw him scared.

You felt yourself coming back to consciousness in what seemed like seconds, but it had more than likely been hours.

You hadn’t opened your eyes yet, but you frowned a little, trying to go back to sleep. You were laying down in a bed with fresh, clean clothes. And you could tell you’d been stitched and bandaged up.

Joel reached for your hand, his larger one encasing yours. Those sad brown eyes of his watched as your eyes finally fluttered open. You met his gaze immediately and everything came flooding back.

You realized quickly based on a scan of your surroundings that you were in the hospital, not a jail cell. Not even cuffed.

“What lie did you tell them?” you asked hoarsely, throat dry.

“Half truth, half lie,” Joel revealed under his breath. “Said that you were jumped by a couple of guys, didn’t say why. If they ask you were trying to take a shortcut home and got lost in the dark.”

You closed your eyes and sighed. Exhausted—mentally, mostly. “How screwed am I?” It couldn’t be long before the body was found. Even if it was self defense, the man was still dead.

“Not at all,” Joel told you. Your eyes snapped open. “But since there were no cameras near where you were and the two guys ran off, Fedra may not be able to find and punish them.”

You furrowed your brows as you looked at him. “That’s not right,” you pointed out.

The lie had rolled so smoothly off his tongue, but you caught it. You weren’t that out of it.

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do. They’ll get caught eventually,” Joel responded. His tone was even, but the way he looked at you… it was a warning. Not in a threatening way, more like he was pleading with you.

Keep your mouth shut. Let me help you.

Of course.

“Well, I always have you to protect me, don’t I?” Your emphasis on the word was bitter. You hated that it was true. He never thought you could look out for yourself and it was like stupid stabby guy intended to prove that true.

What you really wanted to do was ask Joel what he had done with the body. Had he dropped you off, left, and then come back? You couldn’t ask him with nurses passing by.

“You handled yourself pretty well, actually,” Joel said it like a confession, pulling you from your thoughts. And oh look, the world kept turning. Maybe it was still a crazy, messy, terribly fucked up world—but it didn’t end simply because Joel admitted you weren’t some helpless damsel.

It could’ve been because he rescued you, or it could’ve been the morphine, but a wave of affection washed over you. Your expression softened You became more presently aware of Joel’s hand overlapping yours. You turned your hand, palm now facing his. Joel’s eyes flicked down briefly as your fingers curled over his hand.

Joel let out a content sigh, like he’d been holding his breath. He held your hand a little tighter after you gave his a light squeeze.

“I was worried about you,” Joel said as if it was some big secret.

You nearly laughed. “Yeah, no shit.”

Joel cracked a smile, which had become rare for him recently. He even let out a small chuckle at his own expense.

“I don’t want to lose you.” The amount of sincerity in his voice left no doubt.

He had tried so hard to keep you that he caused you to leave. You were sympathetic, you knew he wasn’t a bad guy. He’d done some things that wouldn’t be considered good. There was a difference. In a world like this, there had to be.

“Then don’t,” you replied. You could’ve said more, but Joel understood. He had one last chance and he couldn’t screw it up.

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message!

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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thebearer · 3 months

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i LOVED your making the bed series. It's so accurate and realistic to carmens character. the fact that you wrote all three parts in three days just baffles me! what do you think their relationship would be like afterwards? regarding all aspects such as conversations, arguments, sex, etc...

ahh thank you so much!! it was so fun writing it lol I had a blast even tho it was angst.

i don’t think it would be an immediate just “completely back to normal again” type thing. i mean, this was probably the biggest fight they’ll ever have and it was hurtful. he’s apologized but his words will still linger and it’s not something that can just be completely swept under the rug, but it’s also not unforgivable especially since this was carmen’s wake up call to get some help in a way. you leaving was scary but taking teddy and anchovy? terrified him.

i do think that you would forgive carmen before he forgave himself. like a few days go by, things are feeling more normal. he took off work just to be with the two of you. still on his sabbatical and really wanting to make up for it, spend time. i stand by what i said in the previous ask that he’d be just an endless cycle of anxiety, guilt, dread, self loathing.

I don’t think there’d be any arguments so to say. if there was it’s because carmen’s broken down and started talking bad about himself again, and you’re having to stop the spiral.

as far as sex… I think you’d have to initiate it (i know i said teddy was a newborn but maybe i’ll speed it a little forward where she’s at least eight or nine weeks old lol. that’s still newborn right? haha)

carmen wants to but he feels like he shouldn’t, like he doesn’t deserve it. he’s worried that you’ll think he’s just using you but he wants to but he’s not initiating. you’ll have to do that.

first time after the fight is definitely like a true, passionate, make up sex. slow and really intimate and clingy. i feel like you arrange for someone to watch teddy for the night (maybe pete and sugar since mj and maggie will not stop asking to see her and anchovy again) you surprise him when he gets off work early to an empty house and make your move. he’s definitely the one who has to be reassured but once it happens, it’s kinda like the final thing that gets you back to a place of normality. like he still feels like shit, still is trying to make it up even tho he’s been forgiven, still going to therapy, but now it’s like everything is at least back to normal. one of those nights once you start, it doesn’t stop. all night type thing just slow and making it up.

i have also seen the begging for a post fight smut and i promise I will begin working on it soon lol. a full works for all of you. maybe a second more fun smut too bc I was planning on doing a baby making one anyways lol

#thebearer #bearblahs #carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto fluff #dad!carmen berzatto #dad!carmen berzatto x mom!reader #carmen berzatto x reader smut #dorothea “teddy” berzatto

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lexithwrites · 12 days

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some fluffy domestic bakudeku because I love them being in love:

• they have a nice two bedroom since Katsuki does bring in the most money as a hero, but izuku uses the second bedroom as an office space for when he needs to focus

• they 100% have a cat together, idk why but I love the idea of their cat having a really weird name like Mouse or Socks, I feel like izuku named it and Katsuki was just along for the ride

• they have dinner together every night (unless Bakugo has night patrols) in which case izuku packs his lunch for him

• Katsuki does the cooking and most of the cleaning purely because he enjoys making izuku feel relaxed at home, he doesn’t want him to be stressed, but if izuku cleans it low-key makes Katsuki so red and flustered because he’s not used to being taken care of

• izuku cannot cook I’m sorry he wasn’t taught, Katsuki does try to help him tho, and he usually just likes having izuku sit on the countertop beside him just rambling about things as he quietly stirs vegetables and rice and they drink wine together it’s lovely

• the day izuku got the teaching assistant job with Aizawa he came home crying because he was so happy to still be around heroes and help the next generation and even tho Katsuki made fun of him a little he was so proud of him

• izuku still uses his reflexes as if he had One For All and this has resulted in some smashed glasses and plates because he isn’t as coordinated

• izuku usually has Todoroki, Uraraka and Iida over for lunch on the weekends and Bakugo sometimes brings back kaminari and Kirishima when they go to the gym on Sundays

• Katsuki is a shockingly good host for parties, he’ll make so much food and put on good music for everyone (he’s firm about no shoes on the carpet and no feet on the coffee table tho)

• when Mina and Kirishima got married Katsuki was the best man and it’s the first time izuku’s seen him so grown up (also he’s sexy in a suit)

• Katsuki grew up on 80’s music (FTS shoutout) and does he sometimes pull izuku in for a dance around the kitchen? Maybe, and izuku blushes every time

• they’ve 100% done it in every room in the apartment at least twice,,,that’s all I’ll say

• izuku’s love languages are words of affirmation and quality time and katsuki’s is quality time and acts of service

• their parents come over for dinner once a month, Inko brings dessert and Mitsuki always bring a nice wine or gin for them all to share

• Inko and Katsuki get along so well I love their relationship I feel like they would bake together whilst Bakugo’s parents would show izuku photo albums of them raising him lmao

• they’re the old married couple for sure

• they get takeout once a week and izuku always picks since katsuki cooks all the time

• I said this in a separate post but they have a matching sleep set; izuku has the oversized shirt and boxers and Katsuki just wears the oversized pants

• they switch who spoons who every night

• izuku’s weakness is his shoulders, neck and back whilst katsuki’s is his hands, hair and lower back

• a little later into their relationship katsuki randomly calls izuku ‘love’ and izuku nearly dies on the spot but it doesn’t go away after that and he loves it

• they both play video games together and with class A and B, they still get competitive with each other

• speaking of, don’t play monopoly with Bakugo, it doesn’t end well

#mha #my hero academia #katsuki bakugou #izuku midoriya #bkdk #dkbk #bakudeku #dekubaku #kacchan #deku

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dzvelinaskebiyars · 2 months

Note

A Kazutora x reader marriage life in a smooth week, with bits of other characters.

YES!! Thank you so much for requesting!

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★

Somehow, it's always Kazutora who wakes up first and he always waits for you to wake up just so he can say "Goodmorning, darling" and kiss you.

Whenever he kisses your hand, he always kiss the engagement ring.

You have to be the one to cook but Kazutora is HORRIBLE cook. He once tried to surprise you with your favourite food but what both of you got was fire and charcoal.

He'd just randomly bring cats at home. No complaints tho, cats deserve the best!

When he's at work, he'd text you whenever you can and even send the pictures of cats.

You sometimes visit him at the work, hence you know Chifuyu and Baji well. They're the first friends of Kazutora that you got to know.

Baji very often visits you two. Ofc he would bring chocolates or something as a little present everytime.

To be honest, I don't think Kazutora would feel comfortable if you're the only one cleaning so he'd try his best to help you.

Watching movies together almost every night. You end up falling asleep first tho.

Once you two watched the horror movies, Exorcist and some others. Kazutora was trying his best to look unfazed and brave in front of you but deep down, he was creeping out.

Hates watching True Crime Documentaries with you because you look like you're watching a Peppa Pig and not gruesome crime. Genuinely gets scared of you that time.

"...Why are you taking notes?!"

"Huh? Oh, I just didn't know about this torture method."

"Okey but why do you need to know?!"

"Why not?"

Yup, genuinely wishing he'd know this before marriage.

In a smooth week, Kazutora definitely would be planning dates with the help of Baji and Chifuyu but would end up asking Pah or Draken for help.

So, at least once in a week, he'd take you on a date.

I really really hope you like this! If you're not satisfied, give me another request or tell me in comments what you truly wanted and I swear I'll improve the post! Have a nice day/night<333

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #kazutora hanemiya #tr headcanons #kazutora x reader #kazutora headcanons #request

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gloomyluvr · 1 year

Text

GOODNIGHT N GO

in which miles unexpectedly sleeps over

fem!reader x e-42! miles morales

fluff / kinda angst??

warnings!: none

a/n: hiii ! i promised a post. and even tho it's a week or two late, it's here!! i loved this one btw. heavily inspired by ari's song. it's one of my faves. this took me forever cuz i had so many ideas and versions of it and i couldnt decide which route i wanted to go with it. idk hope y'all like it ig. oh and miles is ooc cuz like... idk how he is.

masterlist

“im sorry for coming over last minute.” it was almost midnight when miles had called you asking for a place to stay the night. you were the only person he knew who lived around this unfamiliar area.

“no, it’s alright. don’t worry.” you looked down at the floor, avoiding miles’ gaze. admittedly, you were nervous. it was your first time seeing miles after your breakup. which didn’t go all too well, but it’s in the past now.

“if you’re not comfortable with me staying here, i get it. i’ll find some other place.” miles had noticed your uneasy manner.

“no! it’s fine! it’s late and i don’t want you out there by yourself” you finally looked up at him, “what are you doing here anyways?”

“oh uhm, there’s this like robotics competition around here, good prize money y’know?” miles hesitated.

you knew miles better than anyone, you know when he’s lying. he’s making it so painfully obvious that he’s lying. he was probably here for prowler business. but, it wasn’t your place to worry anymore.

“oh, sounds fun.”

“your mom won't mind?”

“what?”

“your mom wont mind that i'm staying the night?”

“oh uhm, probably not. she’s at her boyfriends house so…” you shrugged

“oh.”

miles stood stiffly in front of you waiting for anything to happen. and you stood, well, also stiffly looking around your living room. god, this was so fucking awkward.

“um well, you can set your bag in my room and i’ll get you some old clothes of yours that i… still have.” you admitted, very very embarrassingly. miles slightly smiled, amused by your behavior.

you led the way to your room, and miles trailed behind you. as he was walking, he looked around the apartment he once knew so well. he took notice of anything new, whether it was recent photos in frames or decorations your mother put up to match the season.

once in your room, miles gently set his bag next to your bed. he observed you as you got clothes from your drawer. you were dressed in some graphic tee and christmas pajama pants. which miles so happened to have an exact pair of (maybe because you insisted on matching for the holidays and well, who was miles to deny you?)

“here you go.”

“thanks.” miles took the clothes from your hands and walked to the bathroom.

you let out a breath that you didn’t even know you were holding in. why were you so nervous? a couple months ago you guys could act freely around each other and now you guys can barely even make eye contact. there was no denying that you missed miles. you missed the calls that would last for hours. you missed laying together in bed. you missed his laugh. you missed everything and anything about miles.

you weren’t expecting his call at all. he was the one who decided on no contact after all. and if you were being honest you were mad that he had the balls to ask to spend the night after not talking to you for months. but you didn’t have it in you to say no to miles.

when miles came back, you were lying on a makeshift bed on the floor scrolling through your phone. it couldn’t have been comfortable.

“you’re not sleeping on that.” miles immediately advised you. you looked up from your phone with a grin.

“oh i know. you’re sleeping that.” you got up from the floor and climbed on top of your bed. miles watched your antics with a hand on his hips. you looked at him and he rolled his eyes.

“well at least i was tryna be a gentleman.” he huffed as he laid down on the floor. you rolled over to the edge of your bed to look at miles who was getting comfy on the floor (which was surprisingly comfortable.)

you wanted him to say something. anything. ask how you’ve been, what you’ve been up to. you wanted to talk to him, tell him the latest drama from your school. anything that would break this god-awful silence. but, nothing ever came. it was late, and if he wasn’t gonna try anything, neither were you.

you looked at miles’ face, admiring your favorite features of his. he quickly took notice and looked back at you. miles smiled nervously, hoping you wouldn’t notice how his cheeks turned red because of your gaze. fortunately for him, you were as giddy as him, if not more. your cheeks also blushed up and you just couldn’t handle it.

“stop looking at me like that!” you cried before hiding your face in your covers.

“what! ¿qué hice?” miles chuckled, throwing his hands in the air in defense.

“you know what you did!” you insisted with your face still buried in your covers.

“ ‘m sorry i can’t help it.” he whispered. you shifted to your lay on your side, facing miles.

“miles you can’t say that.” you whispered back.

“why not?”

“miles…”

“i know, i’m sorry.” miles mumbled.

and once again, silence filled the room. you could hear miles’ soft breaths and you were sure he could hear yours.

“k pues, goodnight.”

“goodnight, y/n/n.”

15 or so minutes had passed and you still couldn’t sleep. you were tossing and turning on your bed. why couldn’t you sleep? is it because it’s so cold even though it’s august? or was it the fact that your ex was sleeping on your bedroom floor? probably the first one. you shivered, trying to find some warmth within your blankets. why was it so fucking cold? you sigh, there was only one way you were gonna be able to sleep tonight.

“miles?”

“hm?”

“you awake?”

“yeah, can’t sleep. why?” miles waited for a response but all he heard was shuffling. then, he saw you standing over him with your pillow and an extra blanket.

“can i sleep with you?” miles nearly jumped at the offer. how could he ever reject you?

“yeah of course.” miles made space for you on the ground and you quickly set your pillow down next to his. you got under the same covers as him with the extra you brought being quickly discarded.

it wasn’t until you were fully settled in that you realized your position. your face was merely inches away from miles’. though it didn’t bother you like you thought it would and miles didn’t seem bothered either. in habit, you rested one of your legs over miles’. instinctively miles wrapped his arm around your waist to pull you in closer to him. you brought your hand up to caress miles’ cheek. you closed your eyes as miles rubbed circles on your waist with his thumb.

you missed this. so did miles. but as long as he was the prowler, he couldn’t be with you. despite how much he wanted to.

#across the spiderverse #miles morales x reader #miles morales imagine #miles morales x y/n #atsv #earth 42 miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles fluff #hobie brown x reader #earth-42 miles morales #miguel o’hara x reader

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