A Cosmic Goddess

Moved to @cosmicgoddesswrites. Masterlist Rules Icon by @Starlity

[cosmic-goddess-leo]

I created my new blog here, if yall wanna follow for some new fics feel free to do so. Im not gonna delete the fics here but I AM going to repost them on this new blog. If yall see my old fics on this new blog DOOONT FREAK OUT LMAOOO ❤️ Thanks for your support!

@xsugarysweetsx

https://cosmicgoddesswrites.tumblr.com/

Cosmic Goddess Leo

Formerly Cosmic-Goddess-Leo. She/Her. 23. Writing Haikyuu and JJK Fics. 18+ ONLY!!!

[cosmicgoddesswrites]

Plated Partnership

Osamu Miya x Chef!Reader

Summary: They say the best way to a man's heart is through his stomach. When Osamu meets a young chef, that proves to be true.

Author's Notes: I am now a tired line-cook so I have to write about being a tired line-cook

Warnings: Smoking

Word Count: 1359

The first time Osamu laid eyes on (Y/n), she was like a culinary angel.

He was only 20 years old, still trying to find a spot to open his dream restaurant at, and currently living on cup ramen and steamed rice. Osamu only ate well when Atsumu, who had recently gone pro, came to treat him. He always claimed it was to pay him back for all the times Osamu made him food when he was sick, but in truth, Atsumu was wanting to celebrate the twins following their dreams as much as possible.

Even if he didn’t 100% get it most of the time.

“Maaan lookit how small some of these plates comin out the kitchen are! I’m gonna have to get like 6 different things before I’m full!”

Atsumu’s whining did little to deter Osamu’s patience as he studied each and every dish around him intently.

“The point isn’t to stuff yourself till you’re sick,” Osamu hummed, “It’s to actually taste the food.”

Atsumu couldn’t help but smile at his twin’s starstruck expression on his face before playfully waiving him off with a small ‘yeah yeah.’

Osamu’s dark eyes drifted to the kitchen, for what must have been the hundredth time that night. The kitchen was open concept, a glass wall separating the chefs from the guests. He itched to cross that barrier and experience that world, the world of fast paced fine dining, even if it was just for a second.

Then, he saw her.

Her hair was pulled back into a tight bun, chef whites pristine, eyes fixated on a dish she was plating. Osamu couldn’t see what she was working on, but he could tell a lot of time and tears probably went into it.

A much larger man approached her, causing her to stand at attention and fold her arms behind her back. Osamu was fixated on her perfect posture and calm exterior as the man, presumably the head chef, tasted her dish.

He wordlessly pushed it back towards her and walked away.

She stared at the dish quietly, then threw the plate’s contents in the nearby trash-

“Samuuuu! Are we splurging on some wine? Or are we going to just stare at the hot chefs all night?”

Osamu’s cheeks went red before he turned his attention to the menu in his hands.

The night continued on, and Osamu didn’t see her again until he was well on his way towards wine drunk.

“Excuse me.”

The twins, startled, looked up at the apparently very light footed chef. Osamu not so subtly stood up straighter once he realized it was the woman he had been staring at earlier.

“Please enjoy this dish, courtesy of the house.” She said, voice steely as she set two bowls onto the table for each of them. “It’s a creamy uni pappardelle topped with caviar.”

Osamu stared at the dish in awe, “it’s gorgeous, is it something on special?”

Atsumu was already diving into the bowl while Osamu was studying every component of the dish.

The young woman smiled, “No, it’s something I’ve been working on. Please, enjoy.”

She went to turn on her heel, only for Osamu to call after her. “What’s your name?”

She paused and smiled softly at him, her first time smiling the whole night, “(Y/n) (L/n).”

With that she walked away, and Osamu had one of the best dishes he had ever tasted.

--

The second time Osamu laid his eyes on (Y/n), she looked like a culinary devil.

It was a few months after his first visit to that restaurant with Atsumu. His twin invited him out to a nice dinner with his MSBY teammates, and Osamu wasn’t about to turn down another great meal.

He had arrived at the restaurant a little early for their reservation, his excitement getting the better of him. Just as he was nearing the restaurant, he heard a loud bang from around the corner of the building.

Curiosity got the better of Osamu, and snuck over to see what the ruckus was.

(Y/n) was standing outside, having presumably slammed the door shut. Her chef whites were stained, bandages littered her forearms, and her hair was loose. Her hands, once so steady, were shakily rummaging through her pockets for a pack of cigarettes. She placed one between her chapped lips and began fiddling with her lighter, cursing when it wouldn’t flick to life.

“Motherfuckin cocksuckin no fuel having ass bitch-”

The flick of a nearby lighter caught (Y/n)’s attention. Osamu stood a couple feet away, offering her the tiny but bright flame from his lighter. (Y/n) looked him over before walking towards him and lighting her cigarette, grunting a small ‘thanks’ before leaning back and taking a long drag.

“If culinary school taught me anythin, it’s that you’re having a bad day.” Osamu stated, stuffing the lighter back in his pocket.

“They’re all bad days,” she sighed, puffing smoke out through her nostrils. “At least here they are.”

Osamu raised an eyebrow at her, “If you’re wantin to quit, I’d gladly take your place.”

(Y/n) breathed out a light chuckle, “That’s the problem with this place. It’s dog eat dog, there’s no friends. No soul. No love. Only food.”

“Food can be its own form of love, can’t it?” Osamu asked, leaning against the nearby brick wall and shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Only when it’s made with love,” (Y/n) sighed before taking another drag of her cigarette. “We’re fighting for our lives in there.”

Osamu tilted his head at her, noting the tired look in her eyes and the shake of her hands. “Have you eaten at all today?”

The question very clearly caught (Y/n) off guard, her whole day was dedicated towards feeding others, she was lucky if she got to have a cup of ramen before her shift. She slowly shook her head, “I only get 15 minutes. And if they see me trying to make a shifty right now they’ll toss me out.”

“Let em.” Osamu said, standing straight and jabbing his thumb towards the direction of the street. “I have an onigiri recipe I want to try out, and I think I found the perfect test subject.”

(Y/n) quirked her eyebrow at him skeptical before glancing to the back door of the restaurant. The words of her chef echoed in her head, ‘come back inside when you’re ready to get serious.’ She scoffed lightly, tossed her cigarette at her feet and stomped it out with her heel. “What’s your name?”

Osamu softly smiled and introduced himself as he led her away towards a nearby cab.

--

Osamu stared at the small building in front of him, arms crossed as he began picturing all the work he had ahead of him. This place definitely needed a fresh coat of paint, but it’s what was in his price range. And with the right team, it would pay for itself in no time.

“Getting started without me?”

Osamu turned and smiled brightly at (Y/n) as she got out of her cab and sauntered over to him. She rested her hands on her hips and huffed as she studied the building. “Gonna need a lot of work, huh?”

Osamu hummed in agreement before wrapping an arm around her waist. “Yeah, luckily I have a good partner.”

(Y/n) leaned into his side, a content sigh leaving her as she relaxed against him.

“Open concept kitchen?” Osamu suggested, earning a playful jab to his ribs.

“Not on your life,” (Y/n) laughed, trying to dramatically push him away, only for him to pull her close again. “What are we even gonna call it? We bought the place but don’t have a name.”

“Onigiri Miya,” He said definitively, smiling proudly as he cast his eyes back to what would soon be their restaurant.

“Wellll,” (Y/n) sang, “I’m not a Miya. The name doesn’t really scream ‘partnership’ does it?”

A coy smile played on Osamu’s lips before he planted a quick peck on her cheek “I guess I’ll just have to make you a Miya then, huh?” 

[pikapiepie]

[luvbub-archive-deactivated20240]

@kodzukoi​

[dazedanya]

like or reblog, if you save ⭑･*:༅

[doctorfateblog]

[sylusz]

𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐘𝐔𝐔 | Summer Fair 2022

[magicmooshka]

i love haikyuu i wish volleyball was real :(

[lovesfics]

[crowdiak]

always the damn babysitter

[tsuumei]

Someone’s in trouble…. :x

[kageyuji]

why do guys look hotter in black t-shirts :((

[angellthedeactivated-deactivate]

Can I humbly ask for kiss 48. with Battinson and a female reader?

You may ask and you shall humbly get Anon.

Pairing: Battinson x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, dating, nervous kisses, nervous Bruce Wayne, gentleman Bruce Wayne

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: More Battinson fluff is always good for the soul.

48. kisses with trembling lips

Bruce was never the most... social guy you've ever met. In fact when you first met he barely spared you a few words. He was rather closed off, always in a hurry, almost avoiding the spotlight. Which is pretty hard considering he was a Wayne after all and there were certain things expected of him.

But you persisted and started to chip away at the shield around his heart little by little. Now you even manage to get a smile out of him, which by some is considered impossible.

You almost thought it was a joke when Bruce asked you out to dinner. Only Bruce Wayne doesn't make jokes, so it couldn't be that. A dream maybe? It wouldn't be the first time you dreamt about him. Although he's not usually so nervous in those so the only option left was that this was real.

The whole time Bruce tried to play it off as thanks for doing such a good job at your workplace.

"Are you sure this is just dinner? Or are you trying to bribe me to come work for you? Bribes wouldn't look too good for you Bruce." You give him a teasing smile as you look over the menu. The place was damn expensive.

Bruce shakes his head in amusement, "No such thing. And if I was I wouldn't be so obvious about it."

"Good to know. I'll look for other signs then." Bruce hides his laugh behind his hand as the waiter comes over to your table. To Bruce's credit he had started going out more than usual, no longer the quite the mysterious, shut-in billionaire he once was.

That being said he still kept his secrets, you knew. Well maybe he'll open up to you in time. This was only your first official date after all.

Ever the gentleman Bruce offered to walk you home, even offering you his arm to hold if you wanted to. It was sweet, especially when you saw the little blush appear on his cheeks for a moment.

You could see wheels turning in his head when he walked you to the door, his eyes shifting to it and then back to you.

"I... this was nice." He pressed his lips together, "Thank you for indulging me tonight. I'd like to do this again."

"Well you certainly know how to treat a lady. But perhaps something a little more active next time?" His eyebrows shoot up in surprise, "Get your mind out of the gutter Bruce!" You barely stifle a laugh, "I meant dancing."

"Oh! Right. Of course. I would love to. Not much of a dancer though, I'm afraid." He gave a small smile and a shrug.

"I'm sure you're a fast learner." His smile widens, eyes shimmering with sudden glee.

"You have no idea." The deeper tone of his voice caught you off guard along with sending some... pleasant tingles up your spine, making your cheeks flushed. Bruce seemed to have seen this as he was suddenly back to his normal self, clearing his throat, "Uh... I'll call you then, is that alright?" His hand reached for yours, bringing it close to his lips before he paused.

You felt Bruce's warm breath on your skin, only making your blush deeper. When you looked closer you saw that his lips were shaking. God, he was nervous about kissing your hand! Could he be more adorable. He glanced at you briefly, waiting for you to nod, and only then did his lips make contact with the back of your hand. His kiss was a little prickly due to his stubble but his lips were soft, much softer than you expected, and warm.

"Until then." He gave you another small smile as he let go of your hand, disappearing down the street.

[b1cr1ptic]

may i have this dance - (cue two hours of badly danced bachata helped with youtube tutorials)

[elcapitans]

art by @jujuk_el on twitter

[saetoru]

[ 𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄 ] 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔.

cw: afab! reader, pregnancy, gojo refers to you as a “mom”

satoru has never really been one for routines—it’s not as though life really lets him have them with all the things it’s hurdled, but there a few things he still manages to do regularly.

like his extensive skin care regimen, and the way he has a pastry after lunch every day, or the way he kisses the tip of your nose twice and then your lips before he gets up every morning. but most importantly, it’s this—the way he tiptoes into the quiet house in the dead of night, makes his way to admire the happy little nursery room you’ve put together, runs his fingers over the soft blanket waiting for your baby’s arrival, and then winds up curled by your legs at the foot of your bed as he lifts your shirt over your swollen belly and plants a little kiss to your skin.

it’s comical almost, with his six foot stature and his long, muscled limbs, but satoru makes it work. he likes being eye level with your baby—even if they’re not really seeing him, and he’s not really sure where their eyes even are. but it’s a set routine, one he cherishes greatly, one that gives him just a semblance of something calm and soft and safe in his life.

“hey peanut,” he murmurs, rubbing soft circles into your baby bump as he speaks with his lips pressed against your skin. “your mom hates when i call you that. ‘s why i gotta do it,” he chuckles.

you’re pretty sure satoru could think of a new pet name every day, that your child could very well grow up without hearing the same one twice for as long as he’s around. his list never seems to stop growing from new additions—and it won’t. not when he’s promised your child everything he never had, including fun pet names that are entirely too embarrassing. more just never seems to be enough.

“today wasn’t too interesting, you’d be bored,” he sighs, almost like he’s reliving the uneventful day he’s had, “good thing you’re all toasty in there—” he gives your skin a soft pat, “—i’d live in here too if i could. seems pretty nice. no bills to pay, free food, sleep whenever you want. you’re really living my dream life there, pumpkin.”

he plants another kiss to your skin, trailing pecks along until he meets your bellybutton. he smiles, lets himself relax for the first time all day, lets himself close his eyes and sigh as his figure sinks deeper into the mattress.

“today’s curse was lame,” he huffs, lips curling slightly into a pout as he speaks, “no cool stories for you today, angel. sorry about that. tomorrow’s should be good—and i get to work with nanami! that’s exciting,” his voice picks back up a spark at that, and then he feels a little kick under his palm. “you like nanami too, huh? yeah, he’s fun to pester,” satoru laughs softly, “but you better not like him more than me. i’m cooler, funnier, and i’m less grumpy. you know, nanami says i bought too many baby clothes—your mom did too. not everyone can keep up with baby fashion, i guess,” he rolls his eyes, “can’t have my little kiddo wearing last week’s trends, can i?”

“satoru, please go to sleep,” you groan, “it’s late.” but then your fingers slide into his hair, scratching gently at his scalp as he sighs softly at the feeling.

“i’m having an important father and child bonding moment here,” he insists.

“have it in the morning—”

“but you’re even grumpier in the morning, you’ll cut our time short. it’s very important to build trust and and communication with your little ones if you want a healthy relationship. you should read more,” he says matter-of-factly, and you almost want to kick him off the bed (though you’re sure he won’t really move if you try.)

“our little one is gonna have chronic migraines from the womb,” you mutter, and there’s a giddy little grin across his lips as you speak, one you feel through his lips that are still pressed against your belly. you fingers don’t stop gently stroking through his locks, and his palm is still rubbing slow circles against your skin—and for a moment, even with an unborn child and a slightly irritated you, he’s got a picture perfect little family in his hands.

one he never really thought would be his.

“i have to keep our baby updated,” he murmurs, “you’re too boring, they don’t get fun stories all day when i’m not around.”

“i don’t think you’re supposed to tell infants about curse exorcisms,” you mutter, “what if they have nightmares?”

“can’t be worse than hearing you talk about which vegetables to get,” he shrugs, chuckling lowly when you swat at his shoulder.

he wraps his arms around your waist, presses his cheek lightly against your baby bump as he hums in content. tomorrow will be another day with new burdens and more uncertainties—but right now, right here, the world stops turning for a moment and let’s him catch up, let’s him steal a moment without asking for anything in return.

“someone has to be the responsible parent,” you snort.

“and someone has to be the cool one,” he counters. one last kiss to your belly, and then he’s shuffling up the mattress to be eye to eye with you now. you stare into his orbs for a moment, lingering on the slight glossiness that seems to appear every night after he’s had his routine conversation.

“at least we can say we’re pretty balanced parents,” you whisper, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his jaw. he smiles—and it’s watery, relieved even, but still just a little bit unsure.

“we could say we’re cool ones if it weren’t for you,” he teases, chasing your retreating lips and pressing his firmly against them. it’s a soft kiss, one that pours love into your lungs. it’s the kind that seeps into your skin and melts into your bones—the same love that comes in a form of another kick to your belly.

“our baby thinks i’m cool. see? they’re trying to tell you,” you huff, reaching for his hand and placing it over your bump. you watch his eyes soften at the pressure against his palm, watch the way his lips twitch upwards as joy paints over the canvas of his face.

“our baby,” he repeats quietly, testing the sound on his tongue as though it’s new.

“all ours,” you promise, pressing one more tiny kiss to his lips before resting your head on his chest—and if you notice there’s a skip in his heartbeat, satoru is glad you don’t say anything.

and even if he’s not really a man of routine, this part of his day never ceases to repeat, and he thinks it’s his favorite.

[fiendishpal]

backpack buddies!!

[imaginingmarvelandeverything]

Convenience Masterlist

If you like my writing you can buy me a coffee :)

Bruce Wayne x F!Reader

Masterlist

Playlist

1. Heroes and Villains

2. The Proposal

3. White Wedding

4. A Hard Rain's A-Gonna Fall

5. Phantom

6. Designs

7. The Car

8. Wrong Place, Wrong Time

9. Open Wounds

10. Something in the Way

11. Drive

12. Supercut

13. The Memorial

14. Revelations

15. All the Things She Said

16. Bruises

17. Mail Bomb

18. Aftermath

19. Family Secrets

20. For Reasons Unknown

21. Election Day

22. The Invitation

23. Remember, Remember

24. Inbetween Days

25. Back Home

26. This is the Day

Bonus Chapters:

Self Defence

Bruce keeps his promise and starts to teach Y/N how to defend herself (fluff)

What if?

AU: What if the convenience couple found out they were expecting just before everything with the Riddler happened? (fluff, angst)

The Circus

Alfred suggests Y/N and Bruce take a night off at the circus (fluff, angst)

Blurbs:

How Bruce reacts to finding out he's going to be a father

Requests are open for anything you want to know more about this couple that I might not have mentioned in the story, or any situations you would like to see them in :)