rape, sexual assault, domestic violence, substance abuse
ddlg/excessive age gaps, stockholme syndrome
suicide on anyone's behalf
dead!reader/dead!character
reader/character being killed
yandere!character/reader
baby-trapping, forced pregnancy
- i will not do every single request that is sent to me! if it does not resonate with me or i do not feel inspired by it, i likely won't do it. there's no hard feelings involved, but i'm not going to put my time toward something i don't feel like writing, to put it bluntly
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- just comment on any fic to be added to my main taglist! series have their own separate taglists
- asks are always open if you want to chat, even if requests are closed!
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- when submitting a request, use the 🕷️ emoji so i know you read and acknowledged my rules. if your request does not include this emoji and also does not align with my rules, i will NOT answer it. if it doesn't include it but does still align with my rules, i might answer it.
SUMMARY: you help peter with his arachnid sensory overload :(
warnings: hurt/comfort, fluff, f!reader, established relationship, pet names, panic attack/sensory overload, cuddly peter :P
wc: 513
a/n: not exactly BND spoilers but peter does have heightened arachnid senses in this
"Pete? You okay in there?" you call from the couch on the other side of Peter's small apartment. Glancing up from your book, you frown at the agonized look on your boyfriend's face.
As you make your way to him, E.V.I.E.'s voice fills the room. "Warning. Senses overloading."
You grimace in sympathy, placing a hand on his back as he covers his ears and doubles over. "Baby—"
"No, fuck—" he whimpers. "Everything's so loud..."
He thrashes and whines as the fluttering wings of a fly, the drip of the kitchen sink, and the whoosh of the wind crescendo in his ears to a deafening volume.
"Shhh..." you soothe, gently bringing a hand to his cheek as you guide him to sit on the cold floor between your legs.
"Baby," he whimpers. "Please."
You replace his hands with your own over his ears, his head falling into your shoulder, nose breathing in your perfume. Though he'll never admit it, Peter would allow your scent to overwhelm his sense any day—he'll take that over the thousands of sounds bombarding his ears.
You smooth a hand over his hair, scritching at his scalp gently in the way he loves so dearly. In hopes of quieting everything around him, you hum the soft tune of "oh yeah?" by Steve Lacy in his covered ear.
"Ah." You don't miss the soft relieved sound that falls from your lover's lips, don't miss the way his shoulders drop, and certainly don't miss the way he murmurs your name softly into your skin.
"Better?" you whisper, to which he only nods. "Should I stop yet?"
He shakes his head this time, shaky arms curling around your waist. "Mm. Not yet, please. Just keep holding me?"
And so you do just that. Your free arm drapes over his shoulders, your other hand still buried in his chestnut curls. "Why does that happen to you?" you ask him curiously.
His lashes tickle your skin as he blinks slowly. "I'm not sure yet, baby. E.V.I.E. says it happens when my arachnid hormone levels rise over their baseline amount. Why they rise, though, I don't know."
You hum in acknowledgement, pressing your cheek against his hair. "It hurts me, seeing you like that. All I wanna do is protect my baby, and I can't even do that."
He chuckles softly, lifting his head to look up at you. "My sweet girl," he coos, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip. "Just wanna protect me, huh?"
"Yes, actually," you pout.
"That's my job, baby. But thank you," he murmurs, pecking your lips softly. "I do like laying on you. Makes for quite a comfy mattress."
And suddenly, he lays all of his beefy weight on top of you, crushing you under his lax frame. "Ughh, Peter!" you whine. "You're heavy."
"No, I'm comfy," he corrects. The little shit. "Now quit squirming. Let's lay." He tucks his face right back into your neck where it lay previously, inhaling deeply.
SUMMARY: it's been 3 days since you first received gojo's number and you're already a changed woman. you're not usually a partier, but you'll go for satoru. however, the initial cracks in your newfound connection begin to show.
content: f!reader, fratjo, no smut, y/n used, gojo is mean & self-absorbed, partying, drinking, OOC, angst, mild hurt/no comfort, betrayal on gojo's behalf
wc: 3.05k
a/n: i'm not extremely knowledgeable on frats/frat culture, so i apologize if my descriptions are inaccurate or wrong. also just wanna make it clear that this is also a non-sorcerer au!
previous chapter series m.list
Four days ago, Satoru Gojo was practically a figment of your imagination, someone who lived in a world entirely different from yours and who didn't know you existed.
Three days ago, however, you'd somehow found yourself exchanging numbers with him. And ever since, you two seem to be talking non-stop. It's not something you're used to, having someone to text and talk to all the time besides your best friend. And oddly, it's not unenjoyable—you find yourself waiting for Satoru's texts, almost anticipating when he'll reach out.
What you don't expect is to be invited to one of his frat parties.
"Uh, Alex?" you call to your dormmate, who answers with a small hum. "Did Sean invite you to his party tonight?"
She emerges from the bathroom, shaking out her hair with a towel. "Yeah, I'm going. Why?"
"Um." You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. "Satoru just invited me."
A smirk tugs at Alex's lips as she approaches you. "You two on a first-name basis now?"
You blush. "What?"
"Nobody calls Gojo by his first name, babe," she teases. "But he lets you?"
"I suppose," you shrug. "Look at this."
Handing her your phone, you watch as her eyes dart across the screen, recapping your recent conversation with Gojo.
gojo: hey stranger
y/n: hiii toru :P
Alex glances up at you. "Toru?" she questions.
Your blush only intensifies. "I made it up…"
She chuckles, shaking her head and returning her attention to the text thread.
gojo: i have a question for you.
y/n: oh no is it bad?
gojo: nonono nothing bad!!
gojo: was wondering if you'd wanna come to the party w me tonight
gojo: president's treat :)
y/n: oh um
gojo: I KNOWWW you don't really do parties
gojo: but trust i'll make it worth your while
gojo: so?
"You should totally go!" Alex squeals, tossing your phone back to you. "They're actually pretty fun! Sean's brought me to a few."
"But you know I—"
"—Don't do parties, yeah, yeah," she finishes for you, rolling her eyes before taking your hands in hers. "But, Y/N. This is Kappa Sigma president Satoru Gojo asking you to go. With him!"
"Err…"
"If you don't tell him you're going, I'll take your phone again and do it myself!"
You sigh deeply, picking your phone back up and replying to Gojo's message.
y/n: okkk i'll come
gojo: AYYY THANK YOU
gojo: i hoped you'd say yes
gojo: i'll stick by you the whole time, swear
y/n: what do i wear? :(
gojo: whatever you're comfortable in
gojo: most girls wear like close to nothing but do whatever feels right
gojo: i'm wearing a blue shirt hint hint wink wink :D
y/n: hehe okay gojo
gojo: i'll pick you up at 8
y/n: oh that's okay my friend can drive us
gojo: see you at 8 princess!
"Welp, looks like you and I won't be carpooling," you giggle, shutting your phone off.
"What? Why?"
"Toru insists on driving me."
Alex grins. "Aww. So cute already, and its only been three days."
You give her a weightless glare. "But seriously though, Lex. Help me pick an outfit. He said he's wearing blue."
"…Okay?"
"I think he wants us to match," you blink.
Alex laughs. "Wow. Cute."
You huff. "Lex! Don't hate. I thought you said you liked us."
"I do," she says. "It's just funny, seeing Gojo act so smitten."
"He's not smitten."
"He doesn't just play matchy matchy with anybody, Y/N."
You groan, flopping onto your bed. "Find me a good outfit, pretty please. Nothing too revealing either."
"But it's a frat party!"
"I don't care! My ass and tits are mine to see only."
"Tch, that man is gonna hate you, Virgin Mary," she teases, but heads to your shared closet anyway to find you a cute, somewhat-modest blue outfit.
"How's this?"
You blink. "Is that skirt mine or yours?"
"Mine," she replies. "Isn't it pretty?"
Your eyes trail over the outfit she's whipped up. A little white mini skirt belonging to Alex with your own backless navy blue top, one long enough to reach your hips in that classy 2000s way all your favorite shirts do.
"Hm. Not bad. White to a frat party, though? What if someone spills beer on me?" you frown.
She hums. "Yeah, you're right. What about this?" She emerges with a denim miniskirt that would barely reach four inches down your thighs when put on.
You nod. "That's a winner. Cute choice, Lex."
She grins happily. "I knew I'd do a good job. Here, you can wear these too." She tosses a pair of basic white sneakers to you—probably some Air Force Ones.
You cringe. "I look weird in sneakers. What about some cute boots or—"
"Trust me, Y/N. You'll be glad I put you in sneakers."
"Mmmm. No. I'm wearing my booties," you chirp. "You can't stop me." You make your way to the closet and fish out your favorite pair of brown, nearly knee-high boots. "Perfect!"
Alex laughs, shaking her head. "Cute, but don't come crying to me when your feet hurt, babe."
"Beauty is pain," you quip, laying the outfit on your bed for later, boots at the foot of the bed.
There's an odd tightness coiling at the pass of your gut. Excitement, maybe. Parties have never ever been your thing, not even in high school. But something about the prospect of spending the night with the frat's president himself, getting to drink your mind away under his protection, is oddly appealing. Maybe it's just Gojo making it sound fun. After all, the only time you've spent around him has been in psychology class. Sure, you text often, but now you'll finally hangout, in public no less.
"You're excited, aren't you?" Alex muses, looking at you fondly.
"Unfortunately, yes… I am."
The day passes in a blur of your two classes, lunch with Alex, and a quick study session before the party. You doll yourself up nicer than you ever have before, spending double time on your hair and using your fancy mascara that you only pull out upon the occasion that you actually have plans.
From the bathroom, Alex is blasting hype music as she curls her hair. You're sat the full-length mirror by the entryway, swiping the finishing touches of your blush onto your cheeks. You glance over to Alex in the doorway, frowning.
"Are you pregaming without me?!" you scoff, spotting the bottle of tequila and the shot glass on the counter.
"Tch, no. Come in here and I'll pour you a shot." You pack up your makeup bag and toss it onto your desk before joining her in the bathroom. Alex grins at the sight of you. "Oh, my shortcake. You look beautiful!"
A grin forms on your lips. "Thank you, Lex," you murmur bashfully, ducking your head out of instinct. "Those curls look nice."
"Thanks!" she grins, pausing her curling to pour you a shot of the tequila. "Drink up, babydoll."
You quickly down the shot, wincing as the liquid burns your throat. "Ahh."
"Help yourself," she chuckles. "Your mister will be here any minute."
You roll your eyes, rubbing lotion into your chest, elbows, and knees before spraying your perfume. "Not my mister," you remind her. "I basically met him three days ago."
"Love at first…conversation?" she offers just before your phone buzzes in your hand. "Oooh. Is that him?"
You peek at your screen, your smile turning girlish. "Yeah. It is."
gojo: here whenever you're ready
The time reads exactly 8:00 PM, just as he promised. You quickly down one more shot for good measure before grabbing your purse and heading to the door. "Bye, Lex! Come find me when you're there, 'kay?"
"Yeah, yeah. Bye, love you!"
"Love you, too." With that, you shut your dorm door and descend the steps to the lobby and out the front door. You spot Gojo in his sleek black Audi, the interior lights glowing a mellow purple tone to set the scene.
He smiles once he notices you, unlocking the doors as you slide into the passenger seat. "You look gorgeous," he comments, eyes glimmering at the blush that instantly climbs up your neck. Those same eyes trail down your frame, stopping extra long at the supple skin between the hem of your skirt and the tops of your boots.
"Oh, thank you, Toru," you say, placing your bag on the floor in front of you.
"That name's really gonna stick, huh?"
"Is…is that okay? I can stop if it bothers y—"
"It's perfectly okay, princess," he drawls, putting the car into drive and pulling into the road. "I don't mind; it can be a little name just for you."
You only nod meekly, silently cursing yourself for being so awkward. "T— thank you for picking me up."
He nods. "I don't mind."
The drive to the frat house is quiet but not uncomfortable, the only sounds being the traffic outside and the low sound of Gojo's playlist playing from his CarPlay.
"Good song," you murmur, causing him to glance at you.
"What?"
You gesture to the screen, where Tiramisu by Don Toliver is displayed. "I said good song."
He smirks. "You listen to this?" he queries, putting the car in park. It's only then that you realize you've reached the house.
"Yeah, the whole album. It's good," you say shyly.
"Hm. Didn't peg you as the type, princess." He exits the car before you can reply, rounding the front to open your own door.
You accept the hand he holds out, letting him guide you out of the car. "What do you mean?"
He grins, shrugging. "You seem like you'd listen to that sad, quiet music. I dunno."
"Well, I listen to that, too," you blush.
"Mm," he teases. "Diverse, huh?"
"I suppose."
He chuckles, slinging his arm around your shoulders in a friendly (?) manner as you walk up to the front door. "I'm only messing, Y/N. C'mon, I'll introduce you to some people."
He leads you to the kitchen of the frat house, where Sukuna, Geto, and Fushiguro lean against a counter, sipping beers. Nobody else seems to be here yet—it must be early.
"Boys," he announces his prescence. "This is the girl."
The girl, huh? You cringe internally at the address, but don't show it on your face. Instead, you offer a meek wave to the three men. "Hi. I'm— I'm Y/N."
Sukuna smirks. "Look what the cat dragged in," he comments, directing the words at Gojo. "Nice to meet you, Y/N. I'm Sukuna."
"Ryomen," Fushiguro corrects with a roll of his eyes. "You're never gonna be as cool as 'Jo and be able to pull of the whole mysterious last name thing, dude. Accept it." He glances at you with unamused eyes. "I'm Megumi."
"Whatever, man," Sukuna grumbles, taking another swig of his beer. "Gojo ain't shit anyways."
"Watch your mouth, Kuna," Gojo teases.
"Suguru," the last one speaks up once the bickering quiets. "Sorry about them."
"It's fine," you chuckle softly.
"Want a beer?" Gojo glances down at you.
You frown. "Oh, I've never, um…had it. Is it good?"
It's silent for a moment, but Sukuna is the first to crack, letting out a soft chuckle. "I think it's good. Some are a bit bitter, though, hun."
You only blink at the nickname, and before you know it, Gojo has shoved an ice cold beer in your hand, the cap already popped off. "Try. I'll have it if you don't like it. I grabbed a sweeter one."
You bring the glass to your lips, taking a tentative sip before sticking your tongue out in disgust after swallowing. "Bleh."
Gojo laughs. "Not a fan?" he asks sarcastically, taking the glass from you and claiming it as his own, taking a long sip.
"Not one bit. You have any hard seltzers?"
Sukuna chuckles. "You weren't kidding; she is a princess," he states, moving to the fridge to grab an unopened box of Truly seltzers. "Pick your flavor, hun."
You glance at the box. "Hm. I'll have the strawberry one, please. Thanks, uh, Ryomen." He nods, sliding the can to you and putting the rest of the box back in the fridge. This time when you take a sip, you smile ini delight. "Much better."
It's been a few hours since you first arrived at the Kappa Sigma house with Gojo, and you've since found and lost Alex a total of three times. She sought you out upon arrival, as promised, then left to get herself more beer and never returned. You'd met up with her again, but she left when she caught wind of a spin-the-bottle game and wanted to join. Once you'd finally found her, she was whisked away by Sean and has yet to be seen since. You're almost certain they went upstairs.
This has to be the worst party of your life, and it's your first one.
He promised. Gojo promised he'd stick by your side the entire time, but as soon as bodies started piling into the frat house, he claimed he had "places to be and people to see" before patting your shoulder and leaving you standing in the middle of the kitchen alone.
Like a pussy, you're sat at the frat's kitchen island, the same flat Truly from hours ago still in hand. You stare at the countertop, ears trying to filter out the loud noise around you, when you spot a tuft of pink hair in your peripheral, your eyes shoot up.
"Ryomen!" you call before you can second-guess it. At the sound of his name, his head turns.
"Y/N?"
"Hi. Have you seen Toru, he—"
"Toru?"
You sigh in exasperation. "Gojo," you correct yourself. "Have you seen him?"
"Yeah, he's in the living room playing beer pong." His eyes dart over your face, noticing your bitten-red lip and disappointed expression. "…Why?"
"He promised he'd stay with me, but I haven't seen him even once," you admit bashfully, tossing your warm seltzer. "I'll go find him. Thank you."
You pass through the opening that connects the living room to the kitchen, quickly spotting Gojo's snow white hair. You shove through the sea of bodies to reach him. "Toru?" you call.
In Gojo's drunken mind, he knows that name is familiar to him. But he doesn't register who the one person who calls him that is, nor where it's coming from. And so, he ignores it, taking his turn in beer pong after his partner, Geto, went.
"Gojo!" you call this time. But, of course everyone calls him Gojo. So once again he does not respond. He downs the cup of beer in three gulps when a girl on the other team sinks her ball. You sigh in frustration, noticing a few peoples' eyes on you in curiosity. "Gojo!" you call for the final time. Alas, he answers.
"Jesus, Y/N," he snaps, glaring at you. "What?!" His eyes dart back to the table as Geto does a dramatic pre-shot routine.
"You said you'd stay with me!" you remind him.
He scoffs, swaying a little. "Well, I'm busy," he slurs meanly. "Go find Sean's chick. You're friends, right?"
"She's upstairs."
He rolls his eyes, stepping up to the table and rinsing the ping-pong ball in water before shooting. "Fuck, quit pouting. I dunno, dude. Leave me alone."
You frown at him, confused at his sudden annoyance with you. He's never been this mean to you. Granted, it's only been three days. But still. "Well, I don't know anyone else here but you and Lex."
…And he's back to ignoring you.
Glancing at Gojo again and deciding that he is never going to acknowledge your prescence again, you push through to the foyer and out the front door of the house. The fresh midnight air hits your face like a splash of cold water, calming you down more than you expect it to. You take a seat on the curb, calling an Uber for yourself and shooting a quick text to both Alex and Gojo.
y/n: hii lex. i'm headed home, are u good w sean?
lex <3: omg hi y/n! sorry i went upstairs, yk why ;) ya i'm good w sean, get home safe ok?
y/n: i'll text when i'm back at the dorm. luv u
lex: luv u more
You take a deep breath, clicking on Gojo's contact next.
y/n: headed home. stay safe pls
Your heart clenches at your own mean tone, your subconscious feeling bad for talking to him in such a manner. But after all, does he really deserve a heartfelt message after abandoning you for hours after promising to do the opposite?
You watch as your Uber rolls up a few feet away, and you slide into the backseat, staying silent until you're dropped back off at the dorm building.
You ascend the steps drowsily, eyelids heavy to match your heart as you unlock your room and instantly yank your boots off—Alex was right, sneakers would've been the mood. You make your way straight to the bathroom, pulling a makeup wipe free from its package and scrubbing down your face and over your eyes. With a bare face, you change into your pajamas, silently thanking all the gods that it's a Friday and you won't have to go to class tomorrow.
As sleep takes you around 1 in the morning and keeps you until nearly 11, you don't feel your phone buzzing violently under your head.
gojo: y/n?
gojo: shit i'm sorry
gojo: i swear i didn't mean to leave you, but the boys asked me to play a few games with them
gojo: fuck my head hurts so bad
gojo: how drunk was i?
gojo: are you mad at me?
gojo: kuna told me you were looking for me
gojo: wake upppp
gojo: did you at least have fun?
gojo: cmon dude it's been like 20 minutes since i first texted
gojo: like what could u possibly be doing right now? you do nothing
SUMMARY: what was meant to be just an ordinary pysch class turned into your first interaction with satoru gojo, and what was meant to be an innocent exchange of notes turned into a bet that would break hearts and earn gojo a shit ton of money.
content: f!reader, fratjo, no smut, y/n used, gojo is kinda mean/self-absorbed
wc: 2.2k
Satoru Gojo, president of Kappa Sigma, doesn't do girlfriends.
That's the impression that the entire frat—no, the entire university—seems to get from him. The most you'll get out of Gojo is maybe a fuck buddy who only comes when he needs you, not the other way around.
Sure, he's had girlfriends in the past. That was before he realized how much more fun he could have with a different girl every single night. It was a double-win; great sex, but no strings attached. After all, why would he even need a girlfriend? He's not around enough to be attentive towards her and, to put it frankly, he simply doesn't care enough to put that much energy toward someone.
Parties were more fun when he didn't have a girl clinging to his arm, asking to go home. Sex was more fun when he didn't need to coddle her in aftercare once he got off. He could drink as much as he wanted without having to worry about driving a girl back home.
Safe to say that he milks the fuck out of single life.
Plus, he practically ran Penn State, and he was rather self-centered. Gojo didn't pay much attention to anyone except himself, Suguru Geto, Ryomen Sukuna, and his other frat brothers.
And he especially didn't pay any attention to you—he probably didn't even know you were in his psychology class, or that you were best friends with his frat brother Sean's girlfriend.
You were the polar opposite of Gojo. Where he partied hard, you stayed in your dorm on Friday nights to study. Where he slept around, you were practically still a virgin—you lost your virginity at 18 and haven't had sex since.. Where he didn't have time for girlfriends, you longed to have a boyfriend. No, you weren't male-centered or obsessed, you just…wanted one. Your best friend and dormmate Alex was dating Sean from Kappa Sigma, and they were so cute that it made you feel lonely.
You noticed him, sure. He's dreamy, smart (if he commits to it), and so tall. But did you ever act on your thoughts? Of course not! Who were you in his world, exactly? No one. He'd probably laugh in your face if you asked him out to coffee or the movies. So, you kept quiet, choosing to watch him from afar in the lecture hall.
The only person who knew of your somewhat-crush on Gojo was Alex, and even then you insisted that it was merely what you'd call a hallway crush in high school. You knew nothing about the boy except that he was president of Kappa Sigma and that he was also majoring in psychology alongside you. Even if you did know something deeper about him, you're almost certain you're not his type; you don't party, don't drink, don't smoke…
Well, those are all of his favorite things.
"I'm telling you, Y/N, you should just try!" Alex presses, spinning around in the swivel chair at her desk.
You shake your head, eyes still glued to your notebook where you jot notes on your current textbook chapter. "He doesn't even know my name."
"Sean didn't know mine when we first met, and look at us! It'll be worth it in the end. You know it."
"It definitely won't be worth it if I get my heart broken and my ego crushed, Lex," you reply, finally shutting both your notebook and textbook and shoving them into your tote. "I've got class. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone."
"I will," she smiles back, doing one last spin before standing up. "You got psych?"
You nod.
Her grin intensifes as she inches the door closed behind you. "Shoot your shot, Y/N!" she calls after you, finally letting the door shut.
You roll your eyes at her insistent words, putting your headphones on and turning on your favorite playlist to accompany your walk across campus to the lecture hall.
When you arrive, you pocket your headphones and take a seat at your usual spot right in the middle row. Not too close that you seem like a goody-two-shoes, but not too far that you can barely hear or see the professor's lesson.
You sit in the furthest seat to the left in the row, taking your notebook and a few pens out to set your notes up for the day when—
"You mind if I sit here?"
The voice is low but confident, and the owner doesn't even wait for a reply before sitting down in the sit directly beside you and taking out his belongings. It's not until you look up from your notes that you see who it is.
Tall, nearly too big for the seat, and white-haired. Of course, just your luck.
"Oh, no, of course not," you reply quietly, sparing a glance at him. Much to your dismay, he's already looking at you.
Like…looking at you. "Great. Thanks for understanding," he drawls. "Ah, do you have a pen or something?"
You blink. "You're in your second year of college and don't have a pen?"
"Nope."
After letting out a deep, albeit dramatic sigh, you dig in your pencil case for your least-favorite pen and place it on his desk. "Here. You can keep it."
He glances at the pen, then at you. "Generous."
"Not really. It doesn't write very well, but you should be grateful I even offered."
His brows raise minutely and a soft chuckle escapes his lips. "You've got nerve," he mutters, scribbling the date and class at the top of his notes.
Your heart races slightly in your chest, and you're certain your cheeks have tinted red by now. You clearly must've forgot who you were talking to, using such a rude tone with him.
"I— I'm sorry. I didn't mean—"
"It's alright, princess. Jeez, you're jumpy," he laughs. "Don't worry, I'm only joking."
You nod, still feeling like an idiot. You bring your eyes back to your notebook. "Right."
He's about to reply—likely with another snarky, stuck-up remark—but the professor begins his lesson.
An hour later as you pack your belongings and classmates file out of the hall, you wonder to yourself why Satoru Gojo even bothered bringing a notebook to class today.
Because he didn't write in it once.
He spent the entire class with Airpods in and his phone in his lap, scrolling endlessly through women on Instagram until everyone was dismissed. Just as you think your free from the awkwardness that consumed your past hour, his voice finds you again.
"Hey," he calls, quickly falling into step beside you as you descend to the exit. "You took notes, yeah?"
You nod. "Yes."
"…Can I have them?"
"I really shouldn't…" your voice trails off as he flashes you the classic Gojo smile: slightly more upturned on the right, with sharp teeth and demanding eyes. "Yeah, okay. I'll send you them."
"With what number, sweetheart?"
You hate the way your name short-circuits at the name. "Oh, right. Uh…"
He chuckles, pausing his steps—and consequently, yours too—to whip out his phone and hand it to you. Wordlessly, you type your number into a fresh contact and hand the device back to him.
"I'll text you!" he calls to you, and you watch as he falls into step besides a friend of his who, presumably, was waiting outside the class for him.
"Bitch!"
You jump slightly at the all-too-familiar sound of your best friend's voice from behind you. "Jesus, Alex. What?"
She wiggles her brows, walking with you in the opposite direction as Gojo. "So, you finally took my advice, hm?"
"What?" You blink before suddenly realizing what she just saw. "Oh, no! No, no, that's not what happened at all. You see—"
"I don't really care for the details, Y/N. You just got Satoru Gojo's phone number."
"Well, technically, he got mine—"
"Ugh, you're so annoying," she groans. "In any case, you two are in contact now! You really shot your shot this time?"
"Not exactly," you mutter, cheeks already heating at the memory of the worst psych lecture ever. "He kinda sorta sat next to me, then kinda sort asked me for a pen, then kinda sorta didn't take notes the whole time and kinda sorta asked me for mine?"
She squeals, swatting your shoulder out of excitement. "He wants you, babe."
"Shut up, he does not!"
She shakes her head, smiling at you knowingly. "Stay in delusion, my girl," he tuts. "It'll get you nowhere."
Meanwhile, with Gojo and Geto…
"So," Geto teases. "You finally got yourself a girlfriend?"
"Huh?"
"The girl from psych."
Gojo shakes his head. "No, dude. Shut up."
Geto smirks. "You asked for her number," he points out. "Since when did you do that?"
Gojo's brow arches. "I needed the notes. I spent the whole class looking at these chicks from Tri Delta!" he defends.
Geto rolls his eyes. "Classic you, always thinking with your dick—"
"Shut your mouth, idiot," Gojo shoots back, swatting his friend upside the head. It's quiet for a moment before Gojo speaks up again. "Fine. Okay, maybe I thought she was kinda pretty," he admits. "But I don't do girlfriends, 'kay? And she's not exactly my scene anyway—don't think I've seen her outside of class like ever."
Geto humphs. "I think you're just scared she'll say no."
"Ha! Wanna bet?" Gojo replies playfully, but then—
"You offering?"
"…Hm. What are the terms?"
Geto lets out a hum, thinking to himself as he and Gojo round a corner. "You need to bag her and make her your girl by winter break. Do it, I'll give you a grand— no, two grand. Fail? You owe me."
Gojo blinks. "That's a lot of money over a girl, man—"
"And you have to sleep with her," Geto adds with an evil grin, glancing over at his white-haired friend, who has since blanched. "What, can't handle it, 'Toru?"
"No, I— I can handle it," he grumbles, glaring at Geto. "But it's already October."
"2 months is enough time to get yourself a lady."
A low growl sounds from Gojo's throat in frustration, and he rubs his temple in thought. "Alright, whatever. Fine, dude, I take your stupid bet."
Geto grins bright in satisfaction and triumph, holding out his hand. Reluctantly, Gojo shakes it. "Bet is on, brochacho. Better get yourself those notes." With a firm pat on the shoulder, Geto parts ways with Gojo, taking a left to his class where Gojo continues straight to his dorm.
With a deep sigh, he pulls out his phone and clicks on your newly-added number, opening a fresh chat.
gojo: princessss
Your chat bubble appears almost instantly, then disappears once you realize you opened his message way too fast.
"Who's that?"
You glare at Alex, tilting your screen away from her. "It's him…I think. He called me Princess during class and that's the same thing the text says.
"Well, dummy? Answer him!' she insists, widening her eyes at you.
"I can't! I opened it too fast, he'll think I was waiting for him—"
"Oh for fuck's sake," Alex groans, snatching your phone out of your hands and ignoring your attempts to grab it back.
y/n: hi :) gojo, right?
gojo: how'd you guess it was me?
y/n: well nobody else calls me princess.
gojo: i only did it once. you already commit that moment to memory, hm?
y/n: well, twice now. i can recognize a pattern.
gojo: well? you know what i want.
y/n: do i?
gojo: …
gojo: the notes.
"Alex!" you squeak once you manage to get your phone back. "Oh, god. What did you do?!"
She giggles. "Nothing bad, drama. Just gave you a headstart."
You two ascend the stairs to your dorm room and Alex unlocks it. The moment you set your tote down, you flop onto your bed, reading over the text thread between Alex you and Gojo. "You made it seem like I'm flirting!"
"You are."
"Am not!" with hurried fingers, you text back.
y/n: right, sorry, on it! my friend took my phone :(
gojo: you already telling stories about me, princess?
y/n: what??
gojo: well how else would "your friend" have known i called you princess in class earlier?
"Alex."
"Yeah, shortcake?"
"I'm going to fucking kill you."
She giggles. "Big words from you, Y/N." You blush—she's not wrong; it's unlike you to swear, you don't do it often.
"Whatever. I'll get payback… somehow."
y/n: [attachment: 2 photos]
y/n: here!
gojo: thanks, princess.
y/n: why do you keep calling me that?
gojo: you're a princess. and you've yet to tell me your name.
y/n: oops sorry :(
y/n: it's Y/N!
gojo: just Y/N?
y/n: Y/N Y/L/N
gojo: pretty name for a pretty girl :) thanks for the notes.
"Holy shit—"
"Shut up! How long have you been looking over my shoulder?!"
Alex smiles. "Long enough to see that he called you pretty!" she singsongs.
You groan, tossing your phone onto the bed and burying your face in a pillow. "This cannot be happening!"
"Ohhh, it so is. You should be happy! This is what you wanted."
"I didn't think it'd actually happen, though."
"Well it is," she rubs your shoulder. "Cherish it."
In Gojo's dorm, he smiles to himself as he clicks his phone off and tosses it onto his desk. He's going to win that two grand, he's sure of it. After all, you seem pretty easy…
i’m committing to the bit and starting a series yall.
plot is gonna kinda be based off betting on you by lynn painter! basically the boy bets that you’ll fall in love with him and then it’s a whole betrayal second-chance lovers thing and yeah!
tbh i’d PREFER to do gojo but whatever u guys want!
of waiting to be consumed by you
ridiculously attractive things they do
including | dick grayson, jason todd, tim drake, damian wayne & roy harper
playing | the first taste- fiona apple
dick grayson- constantly shirtless
Somehow, he always finds an opportunity to take his shirt off whenever possible. He doesn’t do it to stroke his ego by showing his muscles and tan skin (well, maybe he wants to show off a little), but he just overheats way too easily, hence, removing the easiest thing he can get off his body.
It is definitely not uncommon to arrive at your apartment and find him just in sweatpants making dinner, or lounging around, or fixing his gear, or hanging out with his family. Matter of fact, everyone’s used to it already, so no one really bats an eye when Dick’s hands start to go towards the hem of his t-shirt.
He even has learnt tricks and some fancy ways to twirl his body around to make it sillier for those beside him, so at least they get a show of it. His favourite is a one-handed trick that left you completely flustered because he had one hand splayed on your waist while he pulled you to his chest, and with the other, he just took his shirt off with such ease that it almost made you stutter.
jason todd- casual dominance
He takes the lead everywhere he goes with such natural confidence that you just can’t help but ogle at him. There’s a fine line between being a gentleman and what he is, because the first one he considers basic common sense, but the latter is just how he has always been.
I’m talking about covering corners when you near one in the off chance you can get hurt, one hand always on your body when you’re outside, he doesn’t care if he’s holding your hand, you’re holding his arm or he places his in the small of your back. Replaces things for you before they run out, always assertive and direct with you in every context, he doesn’t play with you, ever.
Something he subconsciously started doing was speaking up in your place whenever you gave him “the look”, when everything is too much at the same time and you just want to go home but still have things to do. Ordering at a restaurant but you don’t really feel like talking? Consider it done. At a bookstore but you can’t find what you’re looking for? He’s asking the workers before you can finish your sentence. Jason often thinks he’s not the most incredible person ever, but he’ll always make sure to accommodate you to feel safe everywhere.
tim drake- pays attention
Tim stares A LOT, but not in a creep way, but rather in a “I’m trying to figure you out without you having to tell me” and he always guesses right. A slight change in your routine cannot go unnoticed if he’s nearby, and if he deems the situation appropriate, he’ll ask you about it, making sure everything’s okay.
“You have moved three times in 30 minutes since you sat down on the couch, is it that the cushions are too hard or that nasty fall on the staircases from Wednesday kicking your ass?” kinda observation. Very smooth with it too, since he doesn’t really bring things up until you find on your kitchen counter that one brand of tea you mentioned offhandedly months ago that your mom used to make you as a kid, and now you’re full-on sobbing because ??? how did he remember and where did he find them??
He likes paying attention to you, he finds comfort in being the one to know you best and learning what makes you be you. Long and deep conversations with each other is something you both cherish, but also knowing your body language, how you think and your passions makes him feel completely connected to you.
damian wayne- protective, not possessive
There’s something in the way Damian’s brain works that makes him want to protect intensely everything he loves, those being most of the time his family, the few material things the takes care of, and you. He doesn’t think of you as his or anyone’s for that matter, but that you and him belong together, and he isn’t shy when showing it.
This tendency of his is mostly shown because he cares, he cares so much that his family was confused at first because he’s usually grumpy and avoidant, but now, Damian clings to you the moments he’s with you. He often displays this as latching onto you and asking about you frequently, just enough to tread on the line between annoying and overbearing like “possessive insecure guys, which I’m clearly not” and protective and caring, always falling into the last category.
He likes when you go to him, doesn’t matter what for. A problem, a rant, a cuddle, or just his simple presence, he’s there for everything, holding onto them, protecting whatever you need him for.
roy harper- matches your freak
Roy’s up to do anything, he doesn’t really care if it’s embarrassing or loud, you tell him if he wants to do something and he’s up at 6 am the next day ready for it. You once confided in him that you felt a bit worried at times for being “too much” or “too weird” and even if he never thought of you like that, he spends every day proving that even if you feel that way, he’ll be by your side doing the same thing.
Tik tok trends, cringy dance moves in the kitchen, drunk confessions, not only he matches your freak, but he also corresponds it. Oh, you’re worried you talked a bit loud at the restaurant because you got too excited telling him the new game you’re playing? He’s screeching at the top of his lungs the next second because he thought he saw a bug, whoopsies.
It may feel incredibly silly to bystanders, but him being comfortable enough with you and himself to act that way is just to incredibly attractive that you even worry about yourself for finding that so hot. Meanwhile, Roy’s by your side with a Minecraft t-shirt waiting for you to come out of your thoughts to beat the ender dragon together.
New theme looks amazing! Could I request a batboys x reader who just plays Roblox alot like, ive been HOOKED on adopt me 😭😭😭
GAMER GIRL
SUMMARY: tim drake never expected his girlfriend to like video games, let alone roblox...
warnings: fluff, crack, gn!reader, established relationship
wc: 374
a/n: i chose to do just tim bc i feel like this suits him the best!! also ty i'm glad you like the theme anon :))
"Hi, babe. What's up?" he asks you, picking up the phone just before the second ring.
“Join my game.”
He blinks. “What?”
You let out an exasperated huff, and he can hear keyboard keys clicking briefly in the background. “I said join my game, Timmy. I found the perfect 2-player obby for us.”
He laughs, but he’s already moving to his desk and turning on his monitor. “You want me to play Roblox with you, baby?” he teases.
Your eyes roll, watching your screen to see Tim’s account show up as ‘active now.’ “You love playing Roblox with me,” you say adamantly.
“Hm. Why is it that I always agree to play Roblox with you but you’ve yet to play Rocket League with me even one time?”
“Cause Rocket League is boring, Timothy,” you say. “Roblox is so fun! And it’s with me, so you should love it.”
He props his phone up on his water bottle, glancing in the camera to see your cute, concentrated face. “Alright, baby. Which game is it?”
“Okay, okay! Join me,” you chirp, pressing play on the 2-player game and waiting for it to load. In mere moments, Tim’s avatar appears beside yours, and he presses the jump button a few times to gain your attention.
“Ahh! I see you, Tim!”
He chuckles. “Yeah, babe. I see you too. Cmon, let’s go.”
“Tim! What’re you doing?!” You squeal, giggling as his character falls off a platform, dragging yours right along with him as you’re connected by a chain. “Ugh, dummy! Now we have to restart.”
His laugh is loud and pure on the other end of the line as he listens to you complain. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” He protests. “I’ll let you lead, swear.”
“You said that 3 falls ago, Tim! This is the furthest we’ve gotten!”
He buries his face in his hoodie, chuckling. “I know, I know. Swear, I’ll be good! I put it on, uh… I put it on Kon!”
You huff. “You better take this seriously,” you say in determination—you’d think this was a far more serious task than a mere Roblox game. “Let’s go. Back to the beginning, baby. And you better not do anything without telling me first!”
SUMMARY: it's 90 degrees outside, yet satoru still wants to cuddle
warnings: fluff, crack, f!reader, established relationship, clingy!gojo, i use Fahrenheit, 90ºF = roughly 32ºC
wc: 319
"Babe."
You sigh deeply, turning away from the fan currently cooling your entire body. "What, Toru? It's literally been five minutes—"
"I want to cuddle."
"Sator—"
"Please?"
Your jaw clenches. "Do you know how hot it is right now?"
He smiles. "90 degrees, feels like 93. But my point still stands: I want to hold my girl."
"It's too hot!" you whine. "I can feel my clothes sticking to me, I can't handle yours sticking to me as well!"
"But baby," he pleads, laying down on the messy bed and tugging at your hand. "I'm your boyfriend, and I want to cuddle because you're so soft and lovable, and—"
"Fine."
His eyes brighten. "Really?"
"Yes, Toru. But only for 5 minutes. And you can't breathe down my neck the entire time; your breath is hot."
Your words go in one ear and out the other, though, as he tugs you to the bed and climbs on top of you. He tucks his head right up under your chin, exhaling deeply against your skin. "Ahhh, yes. Perfect."
His arms snake around your waist, ignoring the moistness of your skin. "You're lucky I love you, Gojo," you sigh fondly, bringing a hand to his sweaty white locks. "You radiate heat like a furnace, baby."
"If you're so hot, just strip," he teases cockily. "I wouldn't mind— Ow!"
You smack him upside the head. "Shut up, you brat. Just enjoy this, you've only got 3 minutes and 42 seconds left."
He sighs deeply. "I'm enjoying it. Don't you worry."
3 minutes and 42 seconds later, Satoru has yet to move.
"Toru, you promised!" you whine, shoving uselessly at his broad shoulders.
He tuts. "No, baby. I never promised. You must be hearing things. I'll be here all day."
Stupid cocky idiot. "But I'm too hot."
He reaches out, turning the standing fan toward your bodies. "There, all better. Rest up, sweet girl."
warnings: fluff, f!reader, homecoming!peter x gf!reader, established relationship, you know peter is spiderman
a/n: he is just so cute :P i wanna eat him
bf!peter parker who despite being busy saving new york, stops by your bedroom window every morning to place your favorite coffee from your favorite cafe on your desk.
bf!peter parker who checks his phone while swinging across buildings. he's arguably just as bad as someone texting while driving. once he was texting you some sweet, sappy words and slammed directly into a telephone pole... he had fun explaining that bruise to you later.
bf!peter parker who doesn't even need to confess that he's spiderman, you figured it out yourself. it happened after he saved you from an idiot trying to take your purse.
"are you okay?" he'd breathed, patting your shoulders and brushing down your coat.
you'd arched a brow, his touch feeling all too intimate, voice sounding all too similar...
"peter?!"
"i—" his shoulders slumped in defeat. "hi."
bf!peter parker who stares at you from across the cafeteria during lunch. it got so bad that you eventually decided to save him the trouble and began sitting with him. but even that didn't work.
"pete?"
he blinks, head propped on the heel of his hand. "hm?"
"you're still staring."
he smiles dopily. "yeah. you're pretty."
bf!peter parker who plays up his injuries tenfold just so you'll be nice to him. he'll come busting through your window with only a few mere scratches on his arm and abdomen, but be clutching his chest like he's in agony.
he'd flop down onto your bed on top of you, reaching for your hands. "it hurts so bad, baby. kiss it better?"
you'd giggle. "oh, yeah? it hurts soo bad, pete? should i call may and have her get you some he—"
"no, no. just you. only your help." he'd pout oh so adorably up at you. "please?"
bf!peter parker who pretends to hate it when you buy him silly little spiderman gadgets, but secretly finds it adorable. thanks to you, he has upwards of 4 spiderman plushies, a spiderman lego keychain, a few crochet spideys, and a t-shirt with webs on it.
bf!peter parker who only bought the hello kitty pjs and "i survived my trip to nyc" shirt because you'd been browsing in a random tourist shop with him and thought they were cheesy and adorable.
bf!peter parker who sometimes accidentally leaves his suit in your bedroom, and trying to get it back is a bit awkward.
he'd crashed at yours after patrol one day, stripping himself of the suit and changing into sweats. he'd realizes before school the next day that he'd need it back asap... you needed to meet up in the all-gender bathroom to exchange the spandex without being caught. ned still caught you, though.
bf!peter parker who loves to take candid shots of you when you least expect it. you'd be sat at his desk, chewing lightly on a pen as you think, then suddenly... click. you'd whip toward him. "what was that?"
he'd wait a bit before handing you the polaroid. "it's you. i thought you looked pretty.
bf!peter parker who is especially clingy and sweet when he's tired after patrol. he'd absolutely melt when you'd run your hands through his sweaty hair after removing his mask. when you'd let him lay his head in your lap and massage his shoulders. when you'd ask him how things went and let him ramble against your stomach for hours.
bf!peter parker who seeks your help when developing his web shooters. you'd become his test subject, giggling as he shot the webs at you from varying distances, testing their reliability.
"ah! peter!" you'd squeal as he shot the web at you from literally a foot away, causing him to giggle softly.
"oh, sorry! too close?"
bf!peter parker who begs to try the upside-down kiss. like, fully begs on his knees with prayer hands. when you finally agree, you swear you can see his tail wagging behind him.
bf!peter parker who loves to mess with you by approaching you in public as spiderman, forcing you to pretend you don't know who he is.
you'd hear him before you see him, the soft thump of feet landing behind you. "morning, ma'am," he'd greet, falling into step beside you. "nice coffee. heard that's a good place." he'd tap the side of your cup.
you'd see his eyes crinkle in amusement through his lenses, which also narrow. "good morning, spiderman," you'd grit, glaring at peter spidey. "yes, it's very good."
"i'm glad. you stay safe on these streets, miss. new york can be...troublesome."
"so i hear. so shouldn't you be, y'know, fixing that? not talking to some random lady on the street?"
he'd smirk. "a random, very pretty lady," he'd correct, still walking casually beside you. "new york's quiet right now. i've got alllll the time in the world."
your jaw would clench. "amazing."
"i am, aren't i?"
bf!peter parker who loves when you doodle on his notes or research papers. you'd always draw little cartoon-y webs on the corners of the sheets, surrounding them with hears.
SUMMARY: wally takes you to the arcade...your least favorite place. but, you have fun, all thanks to him!
warnings: fluff, f!reader, black cat!reader x golden retriever!wally, established relationship, wally licks ur face lol but its only playful
wc: 790
a/n: i very much had Dave and Busters in mind when writing about the arcade. i'm pretty sure D&B is a United States thing (?) so if you're unfamiliar just google it! to put it short, it's 1/2 arcade, 1/2 restaurant/bar. so ya the drinks are obv coming from the bar and ur allowed to walk around with them!
"Aren't you glad I dragged you here, baby?" Wally asks, shouting over the loud music in the arcade.
You stand there, swirling your straw around in your Diet Coke. You're certainly out of place, far too dressed up for a measly arcade. But Wally all but begged you to join him here for date night—"it's my scene!" he'd told you.
You nod. "Yes, love. It's...entertaining."
He laughs, grabbing your hand to drag you to another machine. "Isn't it? Why don't you try and win something for me, baby?" He stops in front of a claw machine, the clear box full of all kinds of plushies and mystery boxes.
You arch an incredulous brow at him, smirking in amusement. "Wally, I—"
"I know, you don't do fun and joyousness and games," he drawls sarcastically, smiling at you with those big eyes you can never turn down. "But pleaaase? For me?"
You sigh dramatically. "Fine. Hold my drink." He happily takes your Diet Coke from your hands, shamelessly taking a large gulp of it through the straw. "Babe!"
He giggles. "Sorry. I'm so exhausted from winning all these games."
Despite yourself, a laugh bubbles up in your throat. "Such a brat," you say. "Give me the card."
Wally hands you the card with the credits on it, and you swipe it in the machine. You glance at him, cracking your knuckles playfully. "Alright, baby, which one do you want?"
He hums in thought, lips sealed around your straw until all of the liquid is drained. You notice, of course, but don't say anything, only smiling fondly. "Ooh! That one."
He points, his finger prodding at the glass. You trace his finger with your eyes until you're met with—
"That?!"
He nods happily—if he had a tail, it'd be thumping against the floor. "Yes. That one. It's so ugly...I love it."
You shake your head in amusement, eyeing the odd alien plush that Wally has his sights set on. "Oh, baby. Okay. That's gonna be hard to reach."
"I'm sorry. But I really want—"
"I'll try, though. For you," you say eyes softening in the way they only do for your Wally.
You press start on the machine, watching as a timer begins to count down. 90 seconds.
Wally watches over you with loving eyes, admiring the rare sight before him. You, his lovely girl who wears only neutral colors, rarely smiles, and doesn't take any bullshit. The girl who has a very adamant 'no touching' rule, except for when it comes to Wally. The girl who, despite her standoffish attitude, is entirely gooey inside for him and would do anything to see him happy.
Your tongue pokes out the side of your mouth in concentration, smudging your berry-mauve lip gloss. He instinctively reaches out to fix it, but restrains himself for fear of distracting you.
"Ooh," you mutter, "I think I got it, Walls."
He perks up, head lifting like a dog hearing the word "walk." "You did?"
A big smile breaks out on your face as you press the drop button, sending the metal claw down toward the stupid alien. You and Wally watch, unblinking in anticipation, as the claw sinks into the green plush and slowly pulls it from the pile.
Neither of you breathe until the 6-eyed creature has been dropped into the prize box. Alas, you both erupt. "Yes!"
You duck to fish the alien out of the box, smiling widely at Wally. "For you, my love."
He laughs, trading your now-empty glass of Coke for the large fluffy alien. "Oh, baby. Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
You pretend to be annoyed when he throws his arms around you and kisses your cheek. "Yeah, yeah. You're welcome," you mutter fondly, a manicured hand patting his mess of orange curls.
Playfully, he licks a stripe up your cheek, making you jerk away. "Ew, Wally!" You wipe the back of your hand over your face, smudging your makeup—though that's the least of your priorities.
He giggles, shrugging unabashedly. "It's my way of showing thanks. That's the most emotion you've showed all day!"
You click your tongue, shaking your head at him. "You're lucky I love you, brat."
He grins widely, grabbing your hand. "Indeed I am. C'mon, next machine— actually, can we get another Coke?"
"We?"
He nods.
"It was my Coke, Walls."
He shrugs. "Sharing is caring." He hands you his wallet. "Here, my treat. Meet me at the basketball game!"
With that, you watch with sparkling, adoring eyes as your sweet boy prances over to the shootout game, his hands gripping his alien with a protective kind of care. You make your way to the bar, this time ordering 2 Cokes.
One shot with a Joey and Aoife type of relationship with Jason! (I’ve always thought Joey and Jason are similar) Either that or Johnny and Shannon, but with Dick!
'03 BONNIE AND CLYDE
SUMMARY: kinda self-explanatory lol, reader and jason w/ a dynamic like joey and aoife from the boys of tommen series
warnings: fluff, f!reader, sort of bimbo!reader, established relationship, jason owns an auto shop, r and jason have a toddler boy who's like 4, idk the first thing about cars so sorry if my info is wrong
wc: 402
a/n: i wanted this to be more aoife x joey but i honestly made reader a bit of a bimbo which aoife definitely is not so i sincerely apologize
"Jay, I'm here," you call, tucking under the half-open garage door. In one arm is you and Jason's child, AJ. In the other is, of course, your pretty purse loaded with random shit: 4 lip glosses, your sunglasses, some applesauce pouches, a taser.
You look around the shop for Jason. "Jay?"
"Kinda busy, doll." His voice is muffled from where he's currently under a car, performing a simple oil change. "What the fuck?"
You frown. "What's wrong?"
He groans. "Nothing, ma. Don't worry." He rolls out from under the car, sitting upright on his creeper. "Hi, queen."
You smile, setting AJ down so he can walk to his dad.
"Hey, stud," you smile. "Now, are you gonna tell me what's wrong?"
Jason happily opens his arms for his smiling boy, then opens them again for you.
"Just car stuff, doll. C'mere."
You arch a brow. "I'll break your little roller thing."
He narrows his eyes. "Come sit," he repeats.
You roll your eyes, setting your purse down on his cart and sitting on his thigh. His hand immediately finds its way to your hip, rubbing the skin softly. The fingers of his other hand fiddle absently with AJ's downy locks, the color matching yours almost perfectly.
"This dude's oil was pitch-black when I poured it," he tells you in disbelief, even though you don't understand what's wrong. "Can you believe it?"
You blink. "What if my oil is black?"
He laughs. "It's not, queen. I changed it for you, remember?"
"Oh. Right. Thanks, Jay!"
He chuckles softly, giving your hip a gentle squeeze. His hand trails up your waist to your ribcage, thumb brushing under your breast. "You're welcome. How you doing?"
You nod, humming softly. Your fingers fiddle with the silver chain around his neck, the dog tags clinking under your touch. "Good. But I missed you. Do you have to work so much?"
"I'm the owner, doll. And Roy and I are the only mechanics here. So yeah, kinda."
"So hire more mechanics."
He sighs. "First-world problems, baby," he teases before pressing a soft kiss to your lips. "Go sit over on that cart with AJ. We can head out once I finish this guy's shit. Deal?"
You smile, already lifting yourself and your son up to get out of Jason's way. "You owe me takeout tonight?"
Who do you think is the Bat-boys favorite musical artist or band?
PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC!
SUMMARY: who i think each batboy + wally's fav musician/genre of music is as well as a song that reminds me of them!
warnings: like none lol, my own personal characterization so probs not canon, i have no reason behind my opinions other than sole vibes so don't hate me
featuring... dick grayson, jason todd, bruce wayne, damian wayne, tim drake, and wally west
dick grayson:
i feel like dick would be a big fan of old 2000s pop, like maroon 5. in a johnny kavanagh way (or not?), dick would love "she will be loved" by maroon 5 🙂↕️🙂↕️
aside from that dick screams white girl music to me. he'd be the first after wally to have sabrina carpenter or ariana grande playing in his ear during patrol.
just for funsies one song that reminds me of dick is: lady of namek by tory lanez
jason todd:
jason would love deftones, chevelle, linkin park, three days grace, etc.
omg especially linkin park. idk i feel like that's his shit right there MHMMM.
a song that reminds me of jason: warm safe place by staind and send the pain below by chevelle
bruce wayne:
bruce i feel like is an enjoyer of old sappy love songs? idk why but i'm getting that vibe.
shit like "can't help falling in love with you" by elvis presley, "can't take my eyes off you" by frankie valli, and "somethin' stupid" by frank sinatra
a song that reminds me of bruce: ur all gonna hate me but i'm your man by leonard cohen🫣
damian wayne:
aww dami my love
damian seems like he'd like billie eilish a lot. don't ask why because idk. especially her happier than ever album. he'd also love olivia rodrigo i feel like.
also i think he'd like calm like mellow sad songs (??) idk if that makes sense but like adrienne lenker, phoebe bridgers, mistki, etc. depends on his mood.
a song that reminds me of damian: this is me trying by taylor swift or mama's boy by dominic fike (ik that's a basic song but it's the lyrics okay)
tim drake:
tim SCREAMS rap to me. i feel like tim would be a big fan of asap rocky, lil tecca, travis scott, lucki, etc.
idk if he'd like the super scream-y, loud rap but the more chill, r&b-esque stuff? 100%
speaking of r&b, tim is for sure a SZA fan. and ariana grande.
a song that reminds me of tim: hampstead by ariana grande
wally west:
oh my wally. POP MUSIC.
his guilty pleasure is taylor swift for sure. he LOVESSS the midnights album, i know it. also loves man's best friend album by sabrina and 15 minutes SPECIFICALLY off short n' sweet.
oddly i feel like wally would also fw the hamilton musical soundtrack...
a song that reminds me of wally: ballad of a homeschooled girl by olivia rodrigo
a/n: this was actually so fun. i'd love to hear your personal takes in the comments!
Hi!! I’ve never requested before so sorry if this doesn’t make sense but I was wondering what your take would be on Tim with a girlfriend who moms Damien to the max, like if Tim and Damien are bickering she’s 100% taking Damien’s side bc that’s her baby. I feel like it would be such a silly dynamic lol. 🩵
YOU'RE ON HIS SIDE?
SUMMARY: tim may be your boyfriend, but damian's your child
warnings: fluff, crack, f!reader, established relationship, platonic dami x f!reader, dami is 12 years old and a brat, i'm the OOC demon so probs OOC
wc: 735
"Damian Wayne!" Tim shouts from your shared kitchen. "Get in here, you little shit."
Ever since you and Tim moved into an apartment together a few months ago, Damian has been hanging around quite often. You don't mind, of course; he's a sweet boy. Tim, however? He's a little peeved.
"Damian!" Tim calls again, storming toward the bedroom where he knows Damian is. "Dam—"
He pauses when he presses his ear to the door, hearing your sweet laughter mixed in with his brother's. He frowns, knocking on the door. "Babygirl?"
"Come on in, Timmy!" you reply. "Dami, place your card."
Tim pushes the door open, frozen in the doorway at the sight before him.
You and Damian are sat crisscrossed in the middle of the floor, an Uno game displayed in front of you. You have 3 cards left, Damian 2.
You place a take 4 card, causing Damian to groan. "Fuck me, are you kidding?"
"Damian, language," you child in a motherly tone, giving Damian the look that Tim only gets when he's fucked up tremendously.
He only rolls his eyes, taking 4 cards from the deck. "What's the color, master?" he drawls sarcastically.
"Yellow."
"Very well." He places a yellow card before looking up at Tim. "Hello, Drake."
Tim blinks. "You stole my girlfriend."
"I did not."
"Did too."
"Did not; she chose to be here, with me, therefore it is not stealing."
Tim's eyes roll dramatically. "Whatever, kid. Babe, can I borrow him for a moment."
You frown. "Why?"
"I need to have a chat."
You register his tight tone instantly. "You're not gonna take my baby away just to yell at him," you say firmly.
"Baby—"
"—No. You can do it here. I need to be here to protect him."
Tim blinks once. Twice. "…Okay, whatever."
Damian turns his attention to his brother. "Can I help you?"
"Would you like to explain why you left 4 different containers empty in the fridge?!" Tim exclaims. "I needed milk for my coffee. But oh, look at that! The whole milk is gone! No worries, I'll try the almond milk. Oh, that's gone, too! Okay, surely the half-and-half must be full, but NO! THEY'RE ALL EMPTY!" Tim rambles exasperatedly, shaking two of the empty cartons.
"Why put them back in the fridge if they're empty, Damian?" Tim persists, praying he'll get an answer out of his younger brother who has very much overstayed his welcome.
However, Damian only stares at him. Then he turns to you, puts on the puppy dog eyes, and oh hell—
"Timothy," you grit, glaring daggers at your boyfriend. "How could you be so unkind to him?"
He sighs. "My love—"
"—He made a mere mistake, and you're yelling at him!" you continue, holding Damian to your shoulder. "He's just a baby."
"He's twelve!"
"Still a baby," you defend. "He didn't deserve that, baby."
Tim clicks his tongue, shaking his head frustratedly. "You're really on his side?"
You nod firmly. "Damian is innocent," you declare as you stroke the young boy's dark locks. Damian is fully playing up the act, sniffling against your shoulder and nodding.
"I am innocent. I'm so young, I didn't mean to, Tim."
"Oh, you've got to be kidding me," Tim mutters to himself. "He's got you under spells, sweetheart."
You shake your head. "Damian could never do so much wrong as to cast spells on me," you say. "He. Is. Innocent."
Tim throws his hands up in defeat, backing out of the room. "Alright, hon. Dami is such an angel and can do zero harm. Message received."
"Well?"
"…Well what?"
"You've yet to say sorry to my sweet child," you huff, tightening your arms around Damian.
Tim tosses his head back. "Damian, I am sorry."
"Say it to his face!"
He picks his head back up, looking at Damian with a subtle glare that says I'm going to fucking kill you. "Damian, I am sorry," he repeats.
You look down at Damian. "Well, sweet boy? Do you accept his apology."
Damian's eyes dart from Tim to you, then back to Tim. He sticks up his nose. "Under one condition."
"Anything, honey."
"Tim goes out and buys more milk."
"But you drank it all!" Tim bursts. "Sorry," he instantly adds under the weight of your dirty look.
"Okay, sweetie, Timmy will go get more milk. Won't you, Tim?"
He nods in defeat. "Getting the keys now."
a/n: this is one of the cutest requests i've ever gotten🥹
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