Based on that little blurb you reblogged can I request the batfamily finding out that Jason has a girlfriend by him rummaging through the stuff in his pockets?
They're like dang dude what do you have in there? and it's all hair ties, lip stick, and a recipe for two đ
-đŹ
oh I love a good âJason hides his lover from his family only for it to get revealed dramaticallyâ fic and now thanks to you, nonnie, I get to write one!
jason todd x f!reader. warnings include canon typical injuries, sibling violence, and slight hints at the batfamâs more traumatic interactions. this is mostly a good olâ batfam fic, because reader is only alluded to, but I really like it. sorry I made it angsty for a sec there, I just canât resist the Dynamicsâąïž.
Jason shouldâve known better. Really, he shouldâve. Taking on Killer Croc alone? A foolâs mistake, but he was just too stubborn to say yes when Bruce asked if heâd like some backup. So now here he is, loopy in the Batcave after Waylon absolutely rocked his shit.
ââS not even that bad,â he slurs.
The fact that he trips on his own feet and nearly faceplants before Bruce catches him says otherwise.
âSure itâs not, Jaylad. Letâs get you to the medbay,â Bruce grumbles, worry creeping into that stone cold exterior.
âIâm fine, old man. Lemme jusâ go home,â Jason whines.
Heâs met with a grunt that firmly negates his request.
âYou can stay in your room tonight,â Bruce says.
âNot my home. Wanna go home,â Jason mumbles as he drops onto the medbay bed.
If Bruceâs face drops a bit, if guilt and sorrow flash across his eyes? Well, Jasonâs too concussed to notice. Bruce just nods and begins to assess any other injuries Croc may have left on him. When he reaches for the collar of the Kevlar top, Jason flinches away from him so hard that he slams into the wall behind him. Itâs only when Bruce realizes that heâd brushed his fingers against the scar on Jasonâs neck that he realizes why. His heart sinks and he canât even look at his son. His shame doubles when he hears a trademark sigh of disappointment from behind him.
âCâmon, Littlewing. Letâs get all of this off you,â Dick says gently as he pushes past their father.
Jason doesnât flinch when Dick starts to remove his gear. In fact, the presence of his older brother sets him at ease.
âI told âim I had it covered, Dickie. He didnât fuckinâ listen,â Jason complains.
âYeah, had it so covered youâre concussed in the family home?â Dick teases.
âWhat the fuck, Richard?â Jason groans before breaking out into giggles.
âHow hard did Waylon hit him?â Dick jokingly asks Bruce.
âThereâs no fractures, but the contusions are appearing rapidly. Jasonâs lucky thatâs all he got.â
Dick stares blankly at Bruce. He goes to open his mouth to retort that he was kidding, then decides itâs not worth his effort. Tim thinks it is, though.
âWow, for a guy thatâs chronically online for vigilante reasons, you still know nothing about the internet,â Tim laughs as he wanders into the medbay and flops down on the bed next to Jasonâs.
Bruce ignores the teasing and catalogs all the injuries that are revealed to him as Dick strips away Jasonâs tattered gear. Thereâs plenty of lacerations on his torso and likely some on his back. A few are deeper but nothing theyâll need to call Leslie for.
âOr maybe your jokes just arenât funny, Timothyâ Damian says haughtily as he sits himself next to Jason.
The thirteen-year-old tries to put on a mask of indifference, but it wavers when he spots the gash on the back of Jasonâs right shoulder.
âAkhi, in what world did you think apprehending Waylon Jones alone would go well for you?â Damian scolds.
Jason narrows his seafoam eyes at Damian and lowers his voice.
âYa really wanna talk about apprehending people alone, demon spawn?â he taunts lightly.
Damianâs eyes widen and he drops the subject because no, he actually does not want to talk about that on account of the fact that he tried to bring in Clayface alone two weeks ago and nearly got immortalized as a clay statue until Jason swooped in. The two of them had scrubbed his Robin suit within an inch of its life to try and hide the excursion from Bruce. It worked; only Alfred noticed the faint hint of clay in the threads of the cape and all heâd done was sigh and shake his head.
Jasonâs gear is fully removed and his head is starting to clear a bit, wooziness replaced by a hammering pain in his temples. The headache masks any pain he would feel from the stitches being placed in his back, though he also suspects that those are less painful because Damian is doing them.
âYour technique is gettinâ better, yâknow?â Jason whispers, the compliment unheard by the other three men bustling around the room.
The hands stitching him up freeze and he can imagine the look of surprise on Damianâs face even without turning around.
âThank you,â he mutters. âI think it will be useful for future endeavors.â
Jason smiles to himself. He knows the kid wants to be a doctor, and he thinks itâs a damn better fate for him than whatever Bruce or Raâs couldâve planned. The silence that settles over the medbay is peaceful, only broken by the sound of clacking computer keys or the zipping of evidence bags. Then, like an unholy boom of thunder, comes the voice of Tim Drake.
âWhat the hell is all this?â
Jasonâs head whips to the side and he sees Tim rummaging through the pockets of his tactical pants. He goes to scramble off the bed and feels the harsh pull of thread that was mid-stitch through his skin.
âMind your fuckinâ business, replacement!â Jason shouts.
He grabs a pillow and chucks it at Timâs head, but he just ducks and continues to empty Jasonâs pockets. The contents that spill out on the sterile tray areâŠperplexing to say the least. Two lip balms (one tinted red), three scrunchies (one black and two red), a grocery list with the word strawberries and a womanâs name underlined, a recipe for chicken stir fry with enough for two portions, and one single soft chocolate chip cookie lay unexplained in the harsh white light of the medbay.
If looks could kill, Tim Drake would be dead and buried six feet under.
âWhat part of mind your fuckinâ business did you not get?â Jason growls, glaring daggers at the nineteen-year-old.
âHoly shit, heâs got a fucking girlfriend!â Tim exclaims.
The pillow hits him square in the face this time. All four sets of eyes turn to him with varying emotions. Shock is evident in the forest green of Damianâs gaze, smugness and vindication in the icy blue of Timâs, panic and guilt in the ocean blue of Dickâs, and some weird mix of sadness and fondness in the gunmetal blue of Bruceâs eyes that Jason doesnât want to think about for too long. The acrobat quickly moves across the room and sweeps all the belongings off the tray and back into the pockets of the tac pants. He grabs Jasonâs gear from Tim and hands it back to its rightful owner, who clutches it to himself protectively.
âDonât make assumptions, Tim,â Dick says. âCivilians leave stuff on us all the time.â
Itâs true. Theyâve all come home with someoneâs forgotten work badge or piece of jewelry before. The oddest thing was when Bruce had a Hello Kitty keychain stuck to the end of his cape. Jason casts a subtle look of gratitude at Dick for trying to give him plausible deniability. Not that it works. Tim stares not at Dick, but through him with his pale eyes in a way that makes a chill run down the spine of the eldest son.
âYou knew already? How?â Tim asks incredulously.
Really, heâs a bit miffed that he hadnât figured this out already. He has contingency plan files on each member of his family (himself included) and he had not a clue that Jason might be in a relationship.
âDrop. It. Now.â Jason warns.
Tim doesnât consider it until he sees Jasonâs fingers twitching in the direction of the butterfly knife on his belt. He doesnât need another scar from Jason shanking him. Well, at least not today.
âFine. Whatever. But if I have to bring Bernard here for Thanksgiving, then you have to bring,â and he pauses to remember and recite the name on the grocery list, âhome too.â
He knows heâs pushed it when Jason lunges at him, dragging Damian and a threaded suturing needle behind him. Tim barely jumps out of the way in time to avoid a punch to the jaw.
âRobin! Knock it off!â Bruce barks.
Itâs almost comical the way all four of his boys freeze in place. It is slightly less comical the way they all proceed to glare at him.
âFuck it,â Jason grumbles as he settles back on the bed for Damian to continue stitching his wounds. âJust get these done so I can go home.â
âHome to his girlfriend,â Tim murmurs.
âI will fuckinâ slash your throat again, you second-rate fuck!â
Bruce lets out one long suffering sigh. He doesnât know you yet (a quiet part of him hopes he may one day be allowed to) but he already feels sorry that youâve been roped into all of this. He feels even more sorry when the butterfly knife flies past his head and buries itself into the wall inches from Timâs neck. Really, what is he going to do with these boys?
Gaz is in the 141. Not könig or keegan. Its gaz. Price, ghost, soap and Gaz. Pleaseeee understand this bc i swear im going insane listening to people talk about konig in the 141.
Tsukishima Kei's intense gaze falls to the ground, a flush at the tips of his ears, slowly spreading to his face.
"Excuse me? To be your fake-girlfriend?"
Tsukishima nods. You're by no means friends. You're only... neighbors.
A story where Tsukishima tells a small white lie to his friends and invites you for the ride that it becomes.
warnings: aged-up haikyuu! characters (+20), university student! tsukishima kei x university student! fem!reader, fake relationship, stangers to lovers?, friends to lovers?, fake dating, eventual smut!, trying my best at slow burn, mention of low self-esteem, toxic relationship with ex, angst.
masterlist!
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full fic masterlist!
hi hi hi! welcome to my new fic! i hope you enjoy it!
the taglist is CLOSED!
Currently on HIATUS! (exams coming up!)
Me: Hey, its fine if you donât like me or just my work. İts pretty normal to not to like somebody. You can tell me what you think about me too.
A: Ok. Well I think your work sucks
Me:
So I wanted to post some fic links since I got a very long list. Some of them are very well known but many deserve more attention. And I see people asking for recs in the tags all the time so I figured a few will like them.
[also I always like this kind of posts lol]
Like I said I have way too many links (last time I counted it was 200 but that was months ago...) so I'll make a couple of posts if anyone is interested.
also this is almost exclusively ghostsoap since those are the kind of oneshots I read, apparently.
Starting off with (some of the) sfw oneshots:
Peace by Metrokid - Ghost dies and has a chat with death (it ends up well dw!)
Pencil Scratches and Ink by Fluffykitty9000 - Ghost thinks Soap loves someone else and shuts him out; Soap thinks the worst.
A Lesson in Trust by mothbeast - Ghost never revealed his face to Soap and Soap feels hurt by it.
He has to Break by GalacticKraken - Ghost has to torture Soap in a mock interrogation, but he refuses to break.
(Don't) Need You to Protect Me by FreeToWriteForMe - Ghost is down, and Soap risks his life to save him. Ghost is pissed.
Beautiful Boy (To my eyes only) by Whyhellotherefriend - Ghost knew he was beyond the ability to be loved. When he starts pulling away, Soap has to do something.
You shine like the moon and the stars in the sky by C0nfused_cactus99 - Soap hasn't been sleeping much and after a mission gone wrong Ghost finds out why.
A Quiet Kind of Caring by bailish - Soap finds Ghost taken down with the flu, and feels the need to take care of him.
Broken Habits by bailish - Ghost finds Soap struggling with his greasepaint on his way to a mission, and decides to help.
Shadow of Him by goth_iterations - Ghost finds Soap's journal, and is pleasantly surprised at what he finds.
Grab On To Me by peachytea - 5 times Ghost grabbed Soap by his tac vest and 1 time Soap grabbed Ghost.
"Draw Me Like One Of Your French Girls" by SonTi - Ghost stumbles upon Soap drawing. The memory haunts him and he's intent to get to see it at least one more time (this isn't nsfw despite the title lol)
How dare you love me (like you've never known fear) by itwillcomeback (MandoKain) - 5 times Soap sang for others, and 1 time someone sang his own song back to him.
the broken dam & the starving hearts by iiruwu - Ghost has a bad habit of getting drunk and calling for Soap to take him home (this one is hurt no comfort btw)
Burn Bright by orphan_account - Ghost gets triggered in the shower after a mission, thankfully someone can always pull him out.
Place To Rest My Head by Louffox - Soap disappeared after an exhausting mission and Ghost went looking for him.
Slipping Up by ElizaStyx, starryathame - Soap gets drunk after a harrowing mission and accidentally confesses a bit too much to Ghost.
Warm Me to My Core by EmpressCirque - Soap and Ghost have to share body heat. Simon realizes he might love Johnny.
To be a Fire by Hallow_fiend - Soap and Ghost get sent into the heart of Siberia and have to face an enemy they can't fight alone.
Heatstroke Heartbreaks by Cutleryy - Soap gets attacked by dogs and Ghost and him have to face a sandstorm (this is technically one chapter but it's 20k words. Extremely good though)
Alright that's enough for one post, this is about half of them. If any of the links don't work or if anyone is interested in more, don't be afraid to say so!
tsukki, contrary to popular belief, actually really likes being little spoon -- because it's hard to be big spoon all the time, hard to always be the one doing the holding -- and sometimes, even guys who act tough (especially guys who act tough) are the ones who want to be held the most.
so you hold him, your arms looped around his middle, pressing kisses to the nape of his neck, the place where his spine meets his skull, nuzzling your nose against the soft blond hairs there, and he curls in, presses his back against you till you're sure you can feel every ridge of his spine ribbed along your chest.
"you smell nice," you mumble into his skin. he shifts in your arms, grumbling slightly.
"i smell like me," he says, his voice muffled by the blankets tucked around his shoulders.
you smile, nuzzling in further, "yeah... and you smell nice."
he hums, reaching down to lace his fingers with yours over his stomach.
"what do i smell like?" he asks.
you burrow ever further in, breathing in his warm, musky scent.
"you smell... kinda like sourdough," you say, giggling as tsukki makes a strange, sleepy, indignant noise.
"i smell like bread?"
you giggle, "the best, most delicious kind of bread."
tsukki sighs, shifting as he twists in your arms to face you. like this, he can easily flip you over and pin you down, do whatever he pleased with you, and you'd be helpless to do anything to stop him. the thought makes you shiver, makes your skin pebble up with goosepimples.
instead, he leans down to press his forehead to yours.
"and you smell like butter, sometimes," he says.
you nod, letting your eyes flutter shut, "sounds like we were made for each other."
tsukki scoffs, turning back around, "cheesy."
"nope, just buttery," you grin, pressing your lips to the warm, bare skin of his back. you feel him relax against you.
"go to sleep."
you nod, settling in, "you first."
"i've been trying but someone keeps on saying that i smell like bread."
you crinkle your nose, "i just said you smell nice. you were the one who asked for details."
tsukki makes an aggrieved noise, but doesn't turn around again. instead, he tugs your hand up to press a soft kiss to your palm before bringing it back down to his stomach.
"sleep," he says.
you grin, nodding, leaning forward to press your forehead to the nape of his neck. you take a deep breath in, reveling in the warm scent of him.
finally, you agree, in a soft, satisfied voice, "yeah... sleep."
đđ let me throw you some kyle coded quotes. do what you wish with it đ«Ž
"If the choice is the mission or coming home to you, Iâm coming home."
"There will always be another mission, _ , but there wonât always be another you."
This has been sitting in my inbox for a wee bit and Iâm sorry it took so long. Thank you for sending this through! I hope I did it justice for you.
Pairing: Kyle Garrick x GN!Reader
CW: slight angst, relationship troubles, but comfort and happiness because Kyle is the sweetest boy <33
You loved your boyfriend. With all your heart. Kyle was the sweetest guy youâd dated, the most caring and attentive man you could have ever hoped for. But every relationship has their gripes and unfortunately, Kyleâs job was yours.
It was important, you knew that. He saved countless lives every time he went away, putting himself in danger in the process. But the fact he was gone so often made everything hard. He often missed important events; wasnât home for your birthday or your anniversary or the holidays in general.
Despite you trying to be understanding, sometimes you couldnât help but feel a sense of unwanted frustration towards your boyfriend. He made it up to you whenever he was back, you knew that, but it wasnât the same. And you selfishly wished for more.
âI want you to be here more!â You yelled at him in frustration one night, having one too many drinks. âI know your job is hardââ
âNo, you donât know how hard it is. You have no idea what I go through.â Kyle snapped back, just as agitated.
âAnd you have no idea what itâs like sitting here waiting for you, watching all my friends and their partners and wishing I had that instead of praying youâre not dead.â Shaking your head in exasperation. He just laughed darkly, rolling his eyes.
âSorry for getting my hands dirty so the world stays clean. Do you have any idea how dangerous some of these arseholes are?â Groaning in frustration, you push past him, walking down the hall to your shared bedroom.
âYouâre missing the point.â Gritting your teeth, you huffed out a breath. âIâm not a priority for you.â
The harsh words make him stop, no longer stomping after you. Itâs enough to make you turn around, and the hurt expression on his face immediately makes you feel guilty.
âWhat makes you think I donât?â He whispered, voice barely audible as he blinked with uncertainty. Ducking your head, you look away from him, not being able to stomach the expression on his face anymore.
âItâs just⊠you always leave. Thereâs always something more important than me.â His expression twists with anguish and steps forward with two strides, hand closing around your wrist.
âDonât say that. Donât ever say that.â The dark brows on his forehead were pulled tightly together. His warm eyes, usually so calm and comforting, were wide and panicked. âYouâve always been a priority to me.â
The tears pricked in your eyes as his words dug into your skin, pulling down the defences youâd tried so hard to build around yourself. Shaking your head, you try to push him away, wiping furiously at your cheeks.
âI donât feel like it, Kyle. Youâre gone so often. And I know itâs important and I know Iâm being selfish, but I donât know how much more of this I can take!â
As if the universe decided to play a cruel joke on you, his phone began to ring. Kyle winced, closing his hand around your wrist tighter as he dug into his pocket. You knew whose name would appear on the screen before he even needed to tell you.
âItâs Price.â His voice sounded wounded, broken as he looked up at you, eyes desperate and pleading as the phone continued to buzz in his hand.
âGo on. Answer it. Itâs important.â The iciness of your tone couldnât be missed, despite trying to keep your expression dismissive.
âFuck, babe, please.â He begged, keeping a firm hold on you and not letting you walk away. âI can fix this. We can fix this. I justââ
âYou need to take it. Yeah, I know.â Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, watching him as he gave in, putting the phone up to his ear.
âSir?â The shift between Kyle and Sergeant Garrick was something you used to find attractive, enticing. Now, it just left a bitter taste in your mouth.
You watched the one sided conversation closely, Kyleâs face becoming more and more strained. His jaw twitched as he grit his teeth and you sighed, knowing what was inevitably coming. Flicking his eyes towards you, he saw the hurt on your face, the sad acceptance and his own heart pounded before opening his mouth.
âActually, Captain, I was thinking about taking a bit of time off.â At his words, your ears pricked and head snapped up to meet his gaze. He met your eyes as his thumb tenderly grazed against the back of your hand. âYeah, sir. Just something important that I need to attend to here.â
Dropping your wrist, he lifted his hand up to cup your cheek tenderly, pressing his forehead against yours. At this distance, you could hear the tinny voice of his captain coming through the phone speaker.
âAlright Kyle. Take care of yourself. And take care of that partner of yours. Youâve put them through hell this last year.â
âI know, sir. Need to sort out my priorities. See you in a few weeks.â And he hung up the phone, pushing it into his pocket and lifting the hand to join his other.
The pair of you remained there for longer than you cared to admit, your face tenderly held between his hands as you breathed deeply.
âYou mean more to me than I ever could express. What you do for me, I couldnât ask for someone better.â Curling your hands into the fabric of his shirt, you tugged him closer. Sliding under the cotton, you rested your palms on the warm, firm skin of his torso.
âIâm sorryââ
âNo, you donât need to apologise. Iâm sorry.â He lifted his head up to look down at you with sincerity. âI have been putting work first, and not you. It always should have been you.â
âBut I said those hurtful thingsââ
âBecause you were upset, love. Itâs okay.â His voice was smooth as he pulled you into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around you. âI love you, babe. So fucking much. Iâm sorry I made you feel that way.â
Being wrapped in his arms had always made you feel safe, and this time was no different. Breathing in, you let his familiar scent surround you, settling deep into the back of your mind as you hugged him back tightly.
âStill no excuse for saying all that stuff before. The work you do is important. If you need to leave⊠I understand.â Deep down, you knew it was the right things to say. If Kyle was being called to work, it was something important and as much as you wanted him for yourself, others needed him more.
âNo, love. Iâm not going anywhere. There will always be another mission, but there wonât always be another you.â
Letting out a breathy chuckle, you lifted your head out of his chest, staring up at him with a soft smile.
âYou really mean that?â His deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief as he backed you against the wall, tilting your chin up and lowering his face to seal his lips over yours.
His fingers curled into the hair at the base of your neck, holding you close as his lips moved slowly, dragging out the kiss. His warm breath fanned over your cheek as he groaned, cupping your cheek and letting his teeth drag across your bottom lip before pulling back.
You knew your lips were already swollen, the temperature of your body rising as your breath came out in short pants.
âIf the choice is the mission or coming home to you, Iâm coming home.â He whispered, thumbs tracing against your cheekbones. âYou are whatâs important to me.â
I present to you a - probably quite incomplete, Iâm sure Iâm missing a lot of speech sounds - reference list and a bit of a guideline for the different ways one can describe the sounds your characters make whilst writing smut. Iâll definitely be referring to it, because I sometimes get stuck on exactly how to describe a particular noise. (aka, âhe canât groan again, he just groaned last paragraphâ)
Sounds (noun, both independently and describing speech): breath/breathe, gasp, moan, groan, pant, whimper, whine, shout, yelp, hiss, grunt, cry, scream, shriek, sob, growl, curse, sound, sigh, hum, noise, squeak, snarl, howl, roar, mewl, wail, choke, keen, purr
Sounds (noun, describing speech): rasp, husk, drawl, plea, murmur, whisper, beg
Descriptors (adjective): loud, hushed, quiet, low, high, high-pitched, little, tiny, soft, deep, unrestrained, restrained, strained, breathy, rough, sudden, short, drawn-out, sharp, harsh, hard, thick, smooth, thin, heavy, impassioned, insistent, hungry, passionate, repeated, filthy, debauched, sweet, slow, deliberate, guttural, languid, surprised, husky, distracted, happy, pleased, satisfied, wordless, cut-off, bitten-off, contented, hoarse, extended, long, depraved, aching, choked, strangled, broken, helpless, shuddering, shaky, trembling, urgent, needy, desperate, wanton, shattered, pained, eager
Combine a descriptor and a sound for best effect - for example, âneedy moan,â âpleased hum,â or âsudden scream.â You can even use two: âlow, rough grunt,â âsweet little cry,â âdesperate, filthy noise,â as long as you donât repeat a word that means the same thing, unless you really want to emphasize it. Avoiding repetition is pretty key here. You donât usually want to say âhushed, quiet gaspâ except on rare occasions when itâs very important how soft the sound was.
Use your own common sense, as well; some sounds and descriptors donât generally work well together. âDeliberate shriekâ probably wouldnât work well, and neither would âlanguid grunt,â but again, this is all very situational - play around! Have fun.
Feel free to add to my lists, use for your reference or pass them around. It would be fun to see a randomized generator made, too, Iâm just too lazy to do it myself. ;)
updated: Iâve put them in order of time if you want to read them that way.
just practice
simon eats you out for the first time.
your first christmas
simon is hurting and takes it out on you.
patient
simon comes home to find a joint in your apartment, something that reminds him of the past.
candied ginger
simon starts touching you on the way home from the grocery store.
nightmare
simon accidentally hurts you after having a nightmare.
a relationship with simon is far from easy
you and simon have a fight.
soft ramblings over tea
you and simon share tea the night before he leaves.
against the wall
simon finds himself wanting to give you a baby.
itâs safe here
simon says âI love youâ for the first time.
surprising ghost with a pregnancy
...you surprise ghost with a pregnancy
merry christmas, lieutenant
soap runs into his lieutenant off-duty and meets the girl he has been keeping a secret (you).
buckshot
simon teaches you how to shoot so you can protect the family.
soft around the edges
ghostâs son runs up to him in front of the team.
uncle johnny
soap and ghost stay at your home for the night.
drabbles:
TLC from simon
anniversary
your son has a tantrum
ghost + your son's teddy bear
ghost's daughter runs up to him
your native language
domesticity turns him on
all dad!ghost here
au where ghost d*es here
how about Jason with the prompt "text me when you get home"? the one time they forget/fall asleep before sending the text and Jay loses hid mind. rushes over expecting them to be dead but they passed out on the couch as soon as they got home
really superbly SCRUMPTIOUS prompt Aud. I love protective jaybird đ„°âŒïž thanks for sending something in đ«¶
jason todd x gn!reader. worried protective snuggly jason. no warnings really, ya boy is just paranoid and madly in love with you đ
request something! I rb all fics to @sanguinelibrary
****
As soon as you get out of your last class of the day, your phone rings.
You answer it, wedging the phone between your ear and shoulder as you fish in your bag for a couple of bills. You're already walking to the train station.
"Hi, snookie bear," you say into the phone, slightly delirious with hunger and sleep deprivation.
Jason snorts on the other end. "That's a new one. Hey, baby. Y'heading home?"
"Indeed I am."
"Need a ride?"
You wait and listen. Eventually, you hear the sounds of hitting and grunting in the background. You roll your eyesâonly Jason would be in the middle of a fight and then ask if you need a ride home.
"No, I'm okay. It's not dark yet. Plus you sound busy."
"I'm never too busy for you," he says immediately. "And it's gonna get dark in an hour. Are you sureâ"
"Yes, Jay," you say gently. "I'm sure. Don't worry about me. I'm going straight home."
You're already at the station. There's a good amount of people, students and workers alike. The university is in a relatively okay part of town, especially during the day. You're not worried. It's not like you traipse through Crime Alley on your downtime.
"Okay." Jason takes a deep breath. "Justâjust be careful. Text me when you get home."
You note the hint of worry in his tone. Maybe this week has been particularly saturated with crime. Jason tends to get a little overbearing about your safety when he's had a tough week. You know he had go down to BlĂŒdhaven and help his brotherâwith what specifically, you don't know.
Most of the time, you're sure you don't want to know.
"I always do," you say. The train pulls up to the station. "Ooh, train's here! I'll talk to you later. I'm thinking of ordering takeout. Too tired to cook."
"Okay, sweetheart. Be safe. Love you. Lock your door."
You roll your eyes fondly. "Yes, Jay. Love you too. Bye."
You hang up as you step onto the train. You pull your headphones out of your bag and shut your brain off during the ride. By the time you get off the train, you've lost hope that you'll be doing any work tonight. You're absolutely wiped out after three back-to-back classes.
It's still light when you get home. You lock the door after you get in, the habit ingrained into you, and dump your bag onto the couch.
Takeout is a no-go. You're hungry now and about thirty seconds away from passing out on the couch.
You change into your home clothes, eat a granola bar, and call it a day. You'll eat more later.
You turn off your phone to bar any annoying notifications and fall into bed, eyes closing immediately.
****
The sound of your deadbolt being teared off its chain wakes you up. You flinch and jump awake, trying to blink through sleep. Your mouth is dry from how hard you slept, and your eyesight is slightly blurry from the sudden flood of moisture.
Your bedroom door swings open, and suddenly you're pulled into warm, heavily muscled arms. You hug back on instinct; you'd know the feel of your boyfriend anywhere.
"Jay, hâ"
"You didn't text," he says, voice shaking. "You said you would. I wasâI thought you wereâ"
You tense, guilt knocking into you.
"Shit. Jason, I'm so sorry. I meant to, I was just so tired..."
Jason pulls back to look at you, hands still on your shoulders. His expression is stern.
"I'm gonna pick you up from now on. When are your late days?"
"Jay, no, GCU is across town. You can't possibly pick me up three days a week. That's too much! What about patrol?"
"Somebody else is out at this time," he says stonily. "Crime Alley can wait an hour while I get you home."
His eyes blaze green, a side effect of the Pit. You can tell he's putting every effort into keeping a lid on the worry and fear and anger over your silence.
"Jason." You cup his face. "Honey, I'm safe. I'm sorry I didn't text you. I'm sorry I worried you. But your adrenaline is spiked right now, Jay. Everything feels magnified. I don't need to be picked up. I was perfectly safe coming home. Okay?"
He shakes his head, holding your wrists. "Anything could've happened. I was soâfuck, baby, I was so scared. I-I checked the station footage and the traffic cams, and I didn't see you after you cut through the park, and I thoughtâI was sure you'dâ"
Jason pulls your arms around his neck and buries his face into your shoulder. He supports you by the backs of your thighs, tugging you into his lap. Then he clings tight.
"Oh, Jay," you murmur, petting his curls. "I'm alright. This end of Gotham isn't so bad. And I know you'd have found me even if something had happened. But nothing did."
"Can't lose you," he chokes out.
"You won't lose me, honey," you say. "You keep me safe."
He trembles in your embrace. You kiss the shell of his ear and continue to pet his hair.
"Let me pick you up tomorrow, at least," he pleads. "We'll get dumplings at that place you like. You barely ate anything when you came home."
"Okay, Jay," you say, because you know he needs that reassurance. He won't relax without it. "That sounds good."
You keep stroking his hair. "Y'wanna order in now?"
"In a minute."
Jason lays you both down on the bed. He throws a leg over yours and pulls you into his chest. It's now that you see just how much tension is locked in his shoulders. He's exhausted.
"Jus' wanna hold you for a bit," he says, lips resting on your shoulder.
He's drowsy, the adrenaline finally ebbing. You close your eyes and snuggle into his arms.
"You can hold me for as long as you want," you say, threading your fingers with his. "I'm not going anywhere."