He Is A Silly Lad And I Enjoy His Comfortable Confidence To Rock This Fit !!

He is a silly lad and i enjoy his comfortable confidence to rock this fit !!

2017 vs. 2024

Noodles | one shot

Saitama X Gn!Reader

Summary: You meet a bald hero. He always appears at the most random moments. (Not that you particularly mind)

In the bustling aisles of the local grocery store, a battle of wills erupted over a simple pack of discounted instant noodles. You and Saitama, both reaching for the last pack, locked eyes in a silent challenge that quickly escalated into a tug-of-war.

“Hey! That’s mine!” you shouted, refusing to back down.

Saitama’s expression remained calm and collected. “Sorry, but I got here first.”

“No way, I’m not letting go!” you retorted, pulling with all your might.

The pack stretched and strained between you, customers around you watching the spectacle with raised eyebrows.

“Give it up already.” Saitama urged, his deadpan tone contrasting with the intensity of the battle.

“Like hell I will!” you shot back, your determination fueled by stubbornness and hunger.

The standoff continued until, with a sudden surge of strength, Saitama yanked the pack toward him, leaving you stumbling backward.

“Damn it, Baldy!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in defeat.

He tucked the noodles under his arm casually. “Thanks.”

From that day onward, every encounter with Saitama seemed to lead to chaos.

(You figured out his hero name was Caped Baldy and cackled for a good while.)

Whether it was a giant monster rampaging through the streets or a minor inconvenience at the park, you inevitably found yourself caught in the crossfire.

Like now.

“Ahh! What the heck?!” you screamed, dodging debris from a monster’s swipe.

Saitama landed beside you, dispatching the threat with a single punch. The aftermath from his punch sent you flying. “Oops, my bad.”

“Your bad?!” you yelled, brushing dust off your clothes. “I almost died!”

He scratched his head. “You seem to attract trouble.”

“And you seem to cause it!” you retorted, frustration bubbling over.

Despite your exasperation, Saitama’s nonchalant demeanor grated on your nerves. How could someone be so laidback in the face of such absurdity?

“You know,” you started, glaring at him, “Shouldn’t you be concerned about what power does on others?”

Saitama shrugged. “Eh, it happens.”

“You’re impossible,” you muttered, throwing your hands up in exasperation.

He flashed you a small smile. “But you keep appearing.”

You scoffed, but deep down, you knew he was right. As much as Saitama’s antics drove you crazy, there was something oddly comforting about having him around. Maybe it was his unshakeable confidence or his ability to handle any situation with ease.

One day, after yet another chaotic encounter that left the local ramen shop in ruins, you and Saitama stood amidst the wreckage, staring at the destroyed bowls of ramen.

“Well, there goes lunch,” you sighed, shaking your head.

Saitama scratched his head. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” you replied with a shrug. “We’ll just have to get more.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Get more?”

“Yeah, and this time, let’s settle this properly,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Let’s see who can make the better bowl of noodles.”

“Because last time, you stole mine!” You pointed an accusatory finger at him.

Saitama blinked, processing your challenge. “You’re on.”

And so, you both ventured to the supermarket, determined to prove your culinary skills. The cashiereyed you both warily as you placed your groceries, sizing up the competition.

Back at Saitama’s house, you focused intently on creating the perfect bowl of ramen. Saitama’s approach was surprisingly simple, while yours was more experimental, adding unconventional toppings and spices.

(You’re pretty sure you saw Saitama just text his friend what to do next.)

After what seemed like an eternity of slurping noodles and tasting broth, the time came to judge the results.

“So?” you asked eagerly, eyeing Saitama’s satisfied expression.

He nodded approvingly. “Not bad.”

You grinned, taking a big gulp of his creation. “Hmm, pretty good.”

Saitama glanced at your bowl, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

You presented your bowl proudly, a colorful masterpiece. (A magnum opus.)

He took a bite, his expression unreadable behind the mask. After a moment, he nodded again. “Impressive.”

“Ha! I knew mine was better,” you exclaimed, pumping a fist in victory.

Saitama chuckled, a rare sound that made you smile. “Alright.”

Abruptly, the door opened. The demon cyborg walked in. His name was—?

“Oh, hey Genos.” Saitama waved lazily.

“Hello Master.” He greeted Saitama before turning towards you. You watched his arms grow in heat and the beams threatening to burn you.

“Shall I remove the garbage, Master Saitama?”

“Genos um—“

“Don’t you fucking shoot!”

law’s weakness

Today, the waiter is very fucking single.

Gn!Reader x Gojo

Summary: Gojo wants your number.

It was the café’s annual dress to impress day—a chance to attract more customers and earn generous tips. For you, it meant donning a sleek suit and stepping up your game. Maybe some gel on your hair and jewelry on your wrists too.

Though you had a feeling you would end being bothered by a certain chatty blue eyed man.

He always came in to just to linger.

He strolled in with his usual confidence, his sharp eyes scanning the room until they settled on you. He grinned, approaching your counter with a playful swagger. You noticed the light skip in his steps.

“Well, well, well,” Gojo greeted, pushing his black shades down. “Look at you, all dressed up. Trying to steal the show?”

“Just trying to make a couple more tips.” you replied casually, though his presence made your heart skip a beat. (Not like you’d tell him.)

“Ah, but you could be much more comfortable if you let me take you out sometime,” he suggested smoothly, flashing his trademark grin.

You chuckled, amused by his persistence. “And what makes you think I’d say yes?”

“Because I’m simply amazing,” he teased, leaning closer. “And I always get what I want.”

Before you could respond, a customer—a well-dressed man with an air of confidence—approached your counter, a friendly smile on his face.

“Excuse me,” the man began, directing his attention to you. “I couldn’t help but notice how stunning you look in that suit. Can I buy you a drink sometime?”

You glanced at Gojo, who watched the exchange with a neutral expression that belied the sharp edge of disagreement simmering beneath the surface. The man’s casual flirtation didn’t go unnoticed by either of you, though you remained oblivious to Gojo’s reaction.

Flustered by the unexpected attention, you politely declined the man’s offer, focusing on taking his order with practiced professionalism. Gojo seemed to bore his eyes into the poor man’s soul. Sensing the sudden tension, the man quickly excused himself and retreated to his table, leaving you and Gojo in a charged silence.

Once the man was out of earshot, Gojo cleared his throat, his gaze lingering on you with a newfound intensity.

“Looks like you’ve got admirers lining up today,” he remarked lightly, though there was a tightness in his tone.

You raised an eyebrow, sensing a shift in his demeanor. “Yeah, it happens. Jealous?”

“Jealousy? Please,” he scoffed, though his jaw tensed imperceptibly. “Just an observation.”

Despite his dismissive tone, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. His eyes were as scary as they are gorgeous.

Hauntingly beautiful, perhaps.

“Well, in any case. We just got some macaroons finished in the back. Want some?” you asked, pouring him another cup of coffee.

Gojo’s lips went into a small pout, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. “Yes.”

As you returned with the plate of colorful macaroons, Gojo’s eyes lit up with a mixture of amusement and gratitude. He picked one up delicately, inspecting it with exaggerated interest before taking a bite.

“These are almost as sweet as you,” he remarked with a feral grin, his charm fully restored.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Smooth, Gojo. But save your lines for someone who’s not immune to your charm.”

Gojo chuckled, leaning back against the counter with casual confidence. “Oh, but you know you love it.”

You scoffed, feigning offense. “Keep dreaming, Gojo.”

The silence that followed was comfortable. As Gojo finished the last macaroon, he stood up, adjusting his sunglasses with a smirk.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay and chat, duty calls,” he said, flashing you a wink.

“Sure, sure,” you replied nonchalantly, though your heart raced with anticipation. As he turned to leave, you took a spontaneous leap of courage, rushing after him with a slip of paper in hand.

You ignored your coworkers cries of betrayal and left the poor other customers alone to wait.

“Hey, Gojo!” you called out, catching his attention just before he reached the door. Wiping your sweaty palms on your pants.

He turned back, raising an eyebrow curiously. “What’s up?”

You held out the slip of paper, your number scrawled hastily across it. “Here. You asked.”

Gojo took the slip with a teasing grin, starting to squint at your handwriting. “Wow, your handwriting is so shitty I can’t even read it.”

“Fuck off.”

He chuckled softly, tucking the slip into his pocket with a nod of appreciation. “Alright, I’ll text you.”

A small scowl painted your face. “You better.”

Saving You Again | one-shot

Miguel O’Hara X M!Reader

Summary: You’re a scientist who’s always in the wrong situation at the wrong time. Lucky your neighborhood (grumpy) spider-man is here to save the day.

Nueva York, 2099.

The towering skyscrapers and neon lights painted a vibrant picture of the future, but inside the sleek halls of Alchemax, things were as chaotic as ever.

“Not again,” Miguel muttered to himself as alarms blared through the building. He raced down the corridors, already knowing who was responsible.

You.

As he reached the lab, he found you surrounded by an enormous pile of ash and smoke, frantically trying to shut down an overloading machine.

“Move!” Miguel barked, shoving you aside with surprising gentleness before his hands flew over the controls, quickly stabilizing the system.

You looked up at him with a sheepish grin. “Thanks, Spider-man! Luckily you are bigger nerd than me.”

Miguel sighed, giving you a glare. “That’s not what matters.”

Despite his stern words, there was a softness in his eyes. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to save you from one of your own experiments. In fact, it had become a regular occurrence.

A bit too regular.

“Seriously, [Name],” Miguel continued, his tone exasperated yet affectionate. You got in trouble enough times Spider-man knew your name! (Or maybe it was on your name tag.)

“One of these days, you’re going to blow up the entire lab.”

You laughed, scratching the back of your head. “But then you wouldn’t have anything to do.”

Miguel rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s just move you to a safer position.”

As he escorted you out of the lab, you slapped his shoulder with enthusiasm. Despite his gruff exterior, Spider-man always seemed to be there for you, protecting you from your own recklessness.

“Yo, Spidey! Next time we meet if you save me again we should go out to eat.”

The masked man stared at you, shook his head, and pinched the bridge of his nose. You thought that meant no but his reply was a tiny whisper.

“Sure.”

.—🕷️—.

The second time it happened, you were in the middle of recalibrating a plasma conduit. One wrong move sent the entire system into overdrive, and the containment field started to fail.

“Ahh! Fucking run guys!” you screamed, dodging a burst of energy.

The other scientists on your lab team dashed out of the room, exiting the building. You turned to leave but then spotted your manga comic you had been reading and didn’t finish.

You’re not wasting a good ten bucks of illustration and hot men!

A blast of power was hit in your direction but something grabbed your waist pulling backwards. You watched your manga obliterate right in front of your eyes.

Damn.

Spider-man appeared almost instantly, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to shut down the conduit before it could explode. He turned to you, a mix of frustration and relief in his eyes.

At least, you thought so. He kinda had a masked on.

“Seriously?” he huffed, his tone tired, like he just wanted to flop down on the couch on Young Sheldon or something. “How do you keep getting into these situations?”

You cracked a nervous smile. “Luck? I mean I’m a scientist, c’mon!”

He sighed, shaking his head. “You need to be more careful.”

This dude seemed to sigh a lot around you.

You looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. “Wanna grab an early dinner now?”

Miguel hesitated, his mask concealing his expression but not the uncertainty in his body language. After a brief pause, he nodded. “Alright, fine..but understand that you don’t need to repay me. This is my job.”

Your eyes lit up, and you couldn’t help but grin. “I know a great place that sells empanadas just a few blocks from here. And hey, can’t I just take you somewhere and call it a date?”

Spider-man chuckled softly, the sound muffled by his mask. (But you sure it was a laugh.) “Yes, I suppose? Let’s get the carne ones though.”

The fact that you were walking next to a superhero, it felt like a fever dream. You chatted about trivial things, from your favorite manga series to the latest advancements in tech.

(Not sure, if it’s allowed to be leaked but since it’s Spider-Man it’s okay.)

When you finally reached the restaurant. Spider-Man removed his mask just enough to eat, revealing a sharp jawline and striking features. It was a rare sight, one that made you appreciate the man behind the Spider-man persona even more.

Woah. Was that fangs? ᡣ𐭩

Hot.

“Wow, you look…ho— cool!” you spoke, giving him a feral grin.

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress a smile. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it.”

As you both dug into your food, the conversation flowed effortlessly. Despite his gruff exterior, Miguel had a dry sense of humor that you found endearing. He told you stories of his past escapades, and you shared some of your own, albeit less heroic, adventures.

Like the time you ate cookies that had marijuana by accident and thought you were going to die.

After finishing your meal, the two of you walked back towards Alchemax, the city lights reflecting off the sleek surfaces of the buildings. There was a comfortable silence between you, a mutual understanding that didn’t require words.

“Thanks for dinner,” Miguel said, his tone softer than usual. “And seriously, try to stay out of trouble.”

You nodded, giving him a playful salute. “Yes, sir. No more exploding labs.” A small grin forming on your lips. “No promises though.”

He gave you a lingering look, as if trying to gauge your sincerity, before finally nodding.

“Take care.”

Could you make Sally Park from Lookism!!!

okay :) + i rlly liked her dynamic with Warren, so cute