can music save your mortal soul?!

You cup her face and she leans closer like she can't help it. The thought that you could make her lose her control sends a giddy feeling through you.

You turn her head and press a kiss to her jaw, leaving a bright red mark behind.

She exhales through her nose. "Really?"

You admire it with a satisfied grin as her hands settle on your hips. "Done."

She lets her forehead fall against yours.

"Can we go now?" she asks.

You shake your head.

"What now?"

"I need a kiss."

"Of course you do." She mutters, but gives in anyway. 

masterlist

Theres a easier way tho

I could take one for the team and get you pregnant

I'll be strong for you

It's hard rasing a kid on your own

To all of that, he'd simply replied, It's raising, then went right back to patrol like you hadn't just offered to impregnate him.

"Sweetheart, there's a send button," he replies with the patience of a saint. Gunshots erupt in the background and there's a curse thrown carelessly.

 You were attempting to send him the playlist you had made. It was a mix of songs perfectly curated to ones that reminded you of your best friend. There was a lot of dad music, a touch of heavy metal. You were tempted to throw in a love song, but dealing with the aftermath of doing so held you back.

"Don't sweetheart me, the fucking thing isn't loading now," you groan, tapping aggressively.

"You know, that doesn't make it go faster, right?" He grunts. There's a loud boom from his side.

"Says the guy who broke my TV because he thought hitting it would bring it back to life," you retort, squinting at your phone screen. You go to turn the brightness down.

 "'M still better at technology than you," he says, then shouts, "Robin, I said on my left!" 

You hear Robin's voice, but you can't make out the words. Something insulting, probably. 

"Little shit can't even listen to basic instructions."

"Me or Damian?" you ask without missing a beat.

"Both."

Once the playlist loads, you tap the send button without much thought. "Kay, I did it, listen to it now," you demand, lying back down on your bed.

"Sure thing, doll. Lemme just stop the Joker from turning Gotham into his playground."

"Gotham's already his playground," you mumble. 

For a while, you're quiet, listening as Jason occasionally shouts orders through the comms. It should be unsettling. The gunfire, the crashes, the constant danger he's in. Instead, it lulls you to sleep. He's here, breathing, and on call with you like he didn't want to part either.

"You done yet?"

"I'm putting it on. Happy now?" His hoarse voice brings you out of your thoughts. It's deeper than it was before. Nicer, too. 

You grin, sitting up as your blanket pools around your hips. "Only if you come over too." 

"Demanding little thing," he scoffed. But you know he's already on his way. 

A few minutes pass. You can hear the distant hum of his motorcycle through the comms.

Then he clears his throat. "Baby making music?"

Horror crashes over you. You snatch your phone off the bed so fast it almost slips from your hands. "Shit,' you whisper, frantically searching for what you sent. 

And lo and behold, it's that playlist, not the one you'd carefully curated for Jason. "Jay, I can explain—

"Fucked my way up to the top reminds you of me?" There's laughter in his voice now.

"No!"

"Guilty as sin?" He snorts.

"Oh my god, Jason, stop." Your hands are covering your warm face, phone lying on your bed. You're never living this down. 

He pauses. "There's a lot of Lana Del Rey,"

You swallow, your fingers curl around your blanket. "Well," you start quietly. "Don't get it twisted, you're pretty Lana Del Rey, but your dad? He embodies a Lana Del Rey song—

"Stop talkin' about Bruce like that," he groans.

"Your dad's hot." 

"You're trying to change the subject."

"Your older brother's also hot." You muster up the courage to add, "and don't call me that."

"Doll," His voice isn't teasing anymore. It's lower, like that comment about Dick took away all the humor.

"I've run out of age appropriate family members," you swallow. Except Jason. But you couldn't exactly say that. "Does Kate count? Bruce's exes? cause they're fine as hell too."

He grumbles under his breath. "Open the fucking window."

"You're here?" You freeze, voice coming out breathless.

The window snaps open with a sharp bang. The sound travels all the way to your room. You close your eyes. Why did it feel like you were in trouble?

The thump of boots echoes through the room. When it finally stops, you open your eyes to find Jason leaning against your doorframe, arms crossed in a way that makes his muscles more defined under the fabric. He’s taken off his helmet, his hair slightly damp, strands falling messily over his forehead.

And his eyes.

They’re on you, fierce and darker than what you're used to, like he’s a second away from hauling your ass straight to Arkham. It sends a pleasant feeling through you. 

You laugh nervously. "Heyyyy, you're not still mad about me finding your brother—what the fuck are you doing—

He stalks over to you until he’s standing right in front of you, close enough that you have to tilt your head back to keep eye contact.

"You're acting weird," you tell him, trying to keep yourself still.

"That playlist—

"Was a random one I accidentally sent!" 

He tilts his head. “So. You wanna play me the right one now?"

He shifts, sliding onto the bed beside you, his shoulder bumping yours as he settles in. You grimace. No way he’s had time to shower, but you don’t move away. Not when he’s this close.

You give him one of your wired earbuds.

Your head bumps his when he puts his on. You bite back a smile at sharing earbuds with him.

You hit play on your phone, sneaking a glance at him, trying to read his reaction.

He’s already looking at you. Then he rolls his eyes and looks away.

“Can’t believe I remind you of a Radiohead song.”

“Would you prefer fucked my way up to the top?”

masterlist

once again i’m not sure what i wrote

The sound of the lighter sparking to life is music to your ears. You lean against the side of Roy’s car, watching the sparks fly from under his thumb as he tries to get it to light. 

“Ah, shit,” he curses when the cold night air snuffs it out once again. 

Cigarette pressed between your lips, you can’t help but smile just a little. 

When you’d first called him twenty minutes ago, you’d been a complete mess. Crying, dressed in yesterday’s sweatpants, moaning to him about your problems. 

You hadn’t even wanted to leave the house, but with the promise of a fresh pack of darts and a joyride around the city, you couldn’t possibly resist. 

Finally, Roy manages to get a solid flame going, the orange light casting shadows over his face like sunlight. He’s pretty like this—pretty all the time—but especially with flames dancing in front of him. 

You lean in, Roy cupping a gentle hand over your face and bringing the lighter to the end of your cigarette. You inhale, the end turns amber and the sweet taste of nicotine fills your mouth. 

You cock your head back and sigh in relief. “Thank you.”

Roy joins you in leaning against his car, the side of his shoulder brushing yours. “Anything for you.”

The stars glimmer over head, Roy having drove the two of you far enough out of the city to actually make out the lights. 

Another puff of smoke and you find the tension in your shoulders easing. 

“Feeling any better?” He asks.

“Felt better the minute I got in the car,” you admit. 

Roy’s suddenly grateful for the darkness, if only so you can’t see the way his face is hearing up. He hums in acknowledgement, jabbing a thick finger up towards the starry sky. 

“Is that the big dipper?”

You squint, waving away another murky cloud of smoke. “Which one?”

He grabs your hand, pointing your own finger up towards the constellation. You close one eye, trying to focus. 

“That one, right there.”

You laugh slightly, “I don’t think so, that’s a circle.”

“Is it not a circle?”

Your slight laughter turns into full on giggling, the sound falling easily from your lips. Roy laughs with you, albeit quieter so he can hear you better. He thinks, if only for a moment, that it might be his favorite sound in the whole world. 

You finish off your cigarette, dropping the butt to the ground and snuffing it out beneath your foot. “Ready to go?”

Roy nods, and you pluck the butt off the ground and run it over to a nearby trash bin. 

Getting back into the passenger seat of his car, the heat is on and quiet music is playing. You lay back against his seat, head turned on your side so you can face him. 

He’s drumming a beat on the steering wheel, nodding his head along in concentration. He hasn’t put the car in gear yet, too focused on his song. 

Your heart flutters at the sight. 

“Roy?” You ask before you register what you’re doing. 

“Hm?”

“Can I—can you kiss me?”

And he pauses then, a lull in the beat he’d been mimicking. “Right now?”

You shake your head and a goofy sort of smile falls over his face. He nods, just once, and then he’s leaning in, cupping your face the way he does when he lights your cigarettes. 

His lips are soft on yours, the lingering taste of smoke and spice and something sweet on his mouth. You lean into him, give yourself to him, falling the rhythm he makes with his mouth. 

He pulls away, still smiling, “come home with me?”

You nod. 

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