Jason hated being in an asylum. Well, this wasn't an asylum it was a 'mental hospital for the criminally insane,' it was better than Arkham at least. He was treated like an actual person here and not like cattle. He received three meals a day, good medication, therapy and even outside time every day. It sure beat Arkham's dark and torturous methods. Plus, there was one patient he was glad was here with him. He would never admit that out loud though.
Jason was eating breakfast when he saw Y/N walk in. Your face lit up when you saw Jason. You sat across from him with your food.
'Morning, Jay.'
'Morning, angel. I heard they had to sedate you last night,' he said. Your smile faded a little and you nodded.
'Yeah... I had a nightmare and became a bit uncontrollable,' you muttered.
'It happens to the best of us, angel.'
'Thanks, Jay,' you said with a small smile. 'Is Bruce coming for visiting day tomorrow?'
'Yeah, like usual,' he grumbled.
'I know you don't like him coming to visit, but I think it's sweet that he does.'
'Please, you're just saying that because he likes you and gives you attention,' he said.
'Well, I don't have visitors so it's nice when he comes.'
Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. 'Fine, I guess it's nice he visits.'
'Plus, he always brings me gifts,' you said as Jason rolled his eyes again and chuckled.
'You're very easily bribed, you know that?'
--
You were the first one awake the next morning and you sat down at your usual table with a tray of breakfast. You waited a while before a nurse came out to you. 'Jason has to be in isolation for a few more hours. It's best to you eat without him,' she said. You sighed and nodded a little.
'Is he okay?'
'Yes, he just had a rough night and didn't get any sleep. He'll be okay, Y/N,' she said before walking away.
After breakfast you sat in the corner and did some drawing while everyone else spoke to their visitors. You heard the door open again and looked up to see Bruce entering. You giggled and ran over to him.
'Hi, Bruce!' you said with excitement. Bruce smiled and felt his heart warm at your excitement.
'Hey, sweetheart. They told me Jason needs a bit more time. Why don't you and I go out in the gardens for a bit?' he asked. Bruce knew you didn't have anyone and he knew how hard visiting day was for you.
'Yes please! I love the garden, I have to show you some of the new herbs I helped plant,' you said as he smiled and followed you outside.
Bruce enjoyed visiting here, he got to see what an actual mental hospital should be. He had seen the horrors of Arkham and this place helped regain some hope for him. Everyone here wasn't treated like a criminal, they were helped and encouraged to grow. Bruce felt at ease while he listened to you explain all the new plants that had been planted since the last time.
After a few minutes a nurse told Bruce that he could see Jason, but he had to go alone. 'Alright, I'll come back and see you soon. Before that, I brought you a little gift,' he said as he pulled out a small handmade doll that looked like you.
'Woah... It looks like me!' you said in amazement as he chuckled.
'I saw it at a market and thought it was the perfect gift considering it looks exactly like you,' he said with a small laugh. You smiled brightly and hugged him.
'Thank you! She's so beautiful,' you whispered. Bruce smiled and hugged you back tightly before he left to see Jason.
You went back to your room for a little while and rearranged a few of the toys to see where your doll would look best.
'I see he spoiled you again,' a voice said. You turned to see Jason and smiled. He looked exhausted and you knew his sedatives would be wearing off. You shuffled forward cautiously and looked at him.
'You okay?'
'I'm okay, princess... Just a hard night,' he said as he walked in and sat on your bed. You handed the doll to him and he chuckled. 'Looks like a voodoo doll of you,' he said as you laughed softly.
'Did Bruce get you a gift?'
'Yeah, a new pillow. Sounds lame but it's some expensive special one... Don't tell him but it's the best thing I've ever laid on,' he said. You chuckled and sat beside him.
'I'm really glad you have him. I know that sounds cheesy and stuff, but...you deserve a family,' you said. Jason looked at you and handed the doll back to you.
'You deserve one too, Y/N. I know you might not have one right now, but you will one day. For the moment I don't mind you stealing my fucked up family,' he said. You smiled and looked at him.
'So, where should I put this clone doll?'
'Hmm...' Jason stood up and took the doll. 'I think window sill, so it's like she's always watching.'
bsf! jason todd x fem!reader, You like making him do your work and he has no objections. No he is NOT being held on gunpoint.
With summer starting, the one thing you look forward to is finally here. Summer vacation.
You were sitting soon scrolling on Pinterest at random stuff to cure yourself out of boredom, while your holiday homework drafted notes were all layered out, with scribbled notes and markers of the important parts, and random doodles you, Jason and your friends made mid classāspeaking of Jason, you were just about to text him to bring you your favorite takeout from that one restaurant which could hopefully never go out of business (by how much you both ate from there, Iām sure theyāre covered..) since it was right on the way to your house.
Before you could even open his messages, you hear your window opening revealing red hood himself. You, not even paying attention to the person who came in swoon over the bag of take-out in his hands.
āDo your parents not feed you?ā he said with a smirk as he took his helmet placing it on your side table and sitting on the edge of your bed facing you and handing the bag to you. āThe usual, may I suggest a tip? Itās not easy beating up bad guys and picking up take out for you.ā
You slightly shift out of bed sitting up moving your notes out your way, the food is your priority right now. You hum ever so lightly, "depends on what types of payments you accept." You slightly pause somehow taken aback by something that left your own mouth willingly.
Jason lets out a slightly choked up laugh, "yeah? i'll take what i can get."
"gosh atleast let me finish my chowmein first!" you say making a face having to look up at him, "can you sit down? we can share, the least i can do for you getting me this."
"i think ill take you up on the other form of payment instead." he said sitting down in front of you taking off his jacket resting it on its usual position on your desk chair.
Flustered is the word that would describe your face best, but jason cant even see it. You put all your attention on your food trying your best not to make eye contact after all the comments you cant handle it, so you do what your best at, deflect deflect deflect.
After finishing up,
Jason paused the video you guys were watching on your computer while he sighed picking up the takeout boxes and your coke bottles, "you dont have to you know?" and as he always did, he cut you off before you could even finish. "I know, jus' let me?" he said shooting you a warm smile that only very few people got to see from him. Gosh, this man has the eyes of a sad puppy and they get you every single time.
He doesn't wait for you to say anything already sensing the defeat in your eyes as he got up to go to the kitchen pushing your door open from the edge with his shoe, both hands busy.
After a quick minute he gets back and enters your room closing it behind himself gently.
"So uhm,"
"Yeah, Jay?"
"I'm staying over, right?"
"i mean yeah, thats what--we planned?"
"yeah jus'---checking, i guess." he said, hands wandering to the back of his neck scratching almost nervously. "i didnt--"
"you left, your clothes in the bathroom so i kept them in my closet. I'll go get them for you? you can go wash up till then."
"yeah i, i'll go do that." he says with a small smile getting used to your little sequence before every sleepover. He gets back from patrol, you guys eat talking about stupid stuff that happened and then you guys almost pillow talk in bed, you always fall asleep saying you wont, to his rants. Not that his rants are boring, his voice is just too soothing.
He heads to your washroom, the toothbrush you gave him last time he came, his toothbrush still in the cup leaning into yours. He sighed getting ready to wash his face with the cleanser you forced him to listen about how you need to always cleanse and wear sunscreen and blah blah, he infact did start wearing it from that day. And how your strawberry vanilla shampoo softened his hair, surprising that it worked after how much grim and sweat he gets.
His bubble of thought then gets popped by a knock on the door, "jay? your clothes-" you said waiting for him to open the door as you stick your hand handing him his sweats and the shirt he wears almost all the time you see him.
As you both settle into bed,
you pull up the covers and scoot a little closer to him hugging your pillow as you prepare mentally to calm down and stop being so nervous, its not your first time with jason being so close. I mean, friends get this close right?
He turns his head down to look at you smiling with a small exhale of a laugh, "hi bug."
"hi jay" you murmur already tired hugging your pillow like it'll keep you awake.
He glances at your position, in the way you were laying down. "you wanna come here? you said you have the best sleep on my shoulder, orrr should i remind you? again?"
"noo i think i've been reminded more than enough by my friends." you say, still you pull your pillow to the other side discarding it for jason's arms. "scoot closer dummy."
"jeez no need to get your panties in a twist-"
"my panties are infact, not in a twist. Although i appreciate the concern."
Even in your sleep you need to quip back at him.
".. jay? im confused."
"about?"
"how come you didnt get yourself a batburger for takeout?"
with an exhale, "...goodnight."
"waaait, what about your payment?"
"...what about it?"
You slightly scoot up to reach his face, leaving a small peck on his cheek. Well, that must cover the 20 dollars he spent on your takeout.
"worth it." he whispered, quiet but not quiet enough for you not to hear.
a/n- can you tell how easily i gave up at the end i think i might work better with requests cause it gives me a base idea. THIS was supposed to be like a whole different idea which got broken down into what it is now.
SHOOULD I CONTINUEEE THISS..
its reallly short but i meaaan its a practice runnn guuuysss...
DESCRIPTION: when jason canāt sleep, youāre the one he turns to. justā¦ not in person.
WARNINGS: descriptions of violence, blood, injury, and trauma, typical yandere behaviours, stalking, swearing
The ropes bind Jasonās body to the wooden chair like a python strangling its prey. They suffocate his limbs, burning roughly onto already beaten skin. Tears in the red spandex adorning his form only reveal more red - except this red is warm, and pours onto concrete stained with splashes of crimson so dark theyāre nearly black. Jason thinks back to a few months ago, when the stains were lighter. Or was it a few years ago? He shudders as much as the ropes will allow, hunching his back and hanging his head low, as if it would shield him from the derelict, barren hellscape heās in.
He cautiously raises his head, bruised eyes scanning the warehouse and mapping the exits for the nth time. His stare bores into the main door as he pictures Batman kicking it off its hinges and running towards him with both relief and rage flooding his veins. He pictures being untied and finally being in Bruceās arms - his fatherās arms - instead of ropes. Jasonās chest relaxes in response to the mental image, a small smile forming on his bloodied face and a shaky, wistful breath escaping from his struggling lungs.
But the relief wouldnāt last long. A maniacal laugh echoes in the distance, and his imagination evaporates as the sound forces him back into reality. His cold, dark, dirty, bloody, and lonely reality. His heart sinks as the laughter grows closer, and plunges completely when the door slams open. It gives entry to a monster in human skin; a pale, green-haired monster with eyes blown wide and a smile carved from ear to ear outlined in red. One would naturally assume it was face paint but, knowing this creature, it could easily be blood from the quivering Robin before it. That, or from one of the many victims that precede him.
In its claws is a crowbar. Its smile only grows more sinister when it sees Jason glance at it in fear.
The monsterās mouth starts moving. Talking. Except, no sound is coming out. All Jason can hear is his quickening heartbeat, pulsing in his ears and his chest. Beating so hard that it feels too big for his body and is desperately trying to escape from his broken ribcage.
Maybe that was the problem, he thinks amongst his dread. I was too soft. Too forgiving. Too weak.
The monsterās grip on the crowbar tightens as it raises the weapon above Jasonās head. Jasonās vision is blurred through the tears streaming down his cheeks, seeping into the open gashes and mixing with the gore. He canāt see the monsterās face, but itās grin is stretched so wide that he doesnāt need to see the details. He knows what it means. He also doesnāt need clear vision to see that Batman isnāt here. Gothamās saviour isnāt here to save him. He shouldāve known; Gotham always comes first.
āPleaseā¦ā he splutters out in a pitiful attempt to stop the inevitable. He only gets a hysterical shrieking in response, accompanied by a grin that doesnāt fit human teeth; it better fits a starving lion thatās finally found its prey.
I never shouldāve trusted my mother, he thinks.
I never shouldāve trusted my āfatherā, either.
Family only lets you down.
The crowbar flies down towards him and-
Jason shoots up from his bed, sitting upright only for a moment before clamouring out of the sheets. The duvet became just as restrictive as those damn ropes. He tumbles to the floor with a jolt and hurriedly crawls to the corner of his bedroom, curling up with his knees to his chest and burying his head in the gap between them. He digs his elbows into his knees, reaching his arms up to shield his head and grip his hair. His hands become damp from the sweat soaking the dark strands, while the hairs on his arms stand up in terror. His breathing quickens into shallow gasps; his mind replaying the horror again, and again, and again, unaware the nightmare is over.
As he trembles in the corner, his sniffling and hyperventilating muffled by his knees, he frantically searches his mind and his surroundings for an anchor; an escape from the neverending torture. Static starts swarming his vision, flickering and dancing like the stars in the night sky outside his window. His racing heartbeat thumps in his ears and he desperately begs himself to think over the nervous drum.
He just manages to catch an unopened package next to his bookshelf despite his sight being obscured by a visual snowstorm; a medium cardboard box still sealed with tape and decorated with a large postage label. A box, he thinks. Box breathing, he realises. In your nose for four, hold for four, exhale through the mouth for four, hold for four. Like Bruce taught you.
Like Bruce taught you.
Bruce.
The thought of that man still fills him with resentment, no matter how many times they heal things between them. Except, their version of healing things was more akin to putting a band-aid over a bullet wound: they know their relationship needs resuscitation, but neither of them have a defibrillator. Or the life support machines to try and keep it alive afterwards.
Jason forces himself to push down his simmering outrage and just create the goddamn boxes. He begins with a shaky inhale and uses it to trace the first side of the box, visualising the line travelling - albeit unsteadily - across his mind. He holds that breath despite the stuttering from his chest, tracing the next side of the box, and then exhales, drawing the third line. When his lungs empty, he holds that emptiness to complete the outline. The wobbly lines create a flimsy box that definitely wouldnāt be fit for purpose, but itās a box nonetheless. He assembles another one, but with steadier lines this time. The lines become smoother with every box he mentally constructs, and his breathing starts to slow.
Hell, he thinks, Iām making enough boxes to fill a delivery warehouse-
Wait, no, not a warehouse! Anything but a damn warehouse!
With that internal slip of the tongue, his progress unravels: his breathing rises once more, and the tightness in his chest returns, the familiar tension mounting all over again. The ghost of the warehouse and the crowbar sprints to the forefront, but itās now mixed with Bruce leaving him to die, his betrayal stabbing him in the back. Jason swears he can feel that metaphorical batarang becoming physical, plunging into his back and tearing into his skin. The wound still agonises him no matter how much time passes. It never fully heals; only scars until the strain splits it open again, blood flowing out as if it were freshly cut.
An abrupt noise rings throughout Jasonās bedroom and cuts through his climbing panic. He flinches at the sound before identifying it as his phone buzzing, vibrating on something. The bedside table - he realises. He notices the buzzing taking on a certain ringtone and his thoughts pause. Them. That ghost of the painful nightmare begins floating away like a cloud blown by a summer breeze, his mind gaining lucidity as it evaporates.
Iām not there. Iām with them. I need them. Theyāll save me.
Jason lifts his head up, his glassy eyes peeking out from under his arms, tears still brimming. He blinks them away, despite his sore eyes being exhausted from the sobbing, and battles through the heaviness in his bones to move to towards his bed. His limbs tingle as he rises from the floor; his body shocked at the abrupt movement. Pins and needles prickle at his skin, and he places a hand on the wall to steady himself. The static begins dissipating from his eyes and his mind becomes more grounded in reality through his sheer concentration on his phone and, by extension, you. He ambles over to the bedside table and attempts to pick up his phone, but his legs had other ideas: he slumps onto the edge of the bed, his hand clumsily resting on the table to balance himself. He lets out a huff of frustration and he rubs his eyes with his palms, wiping away the leftover tears and dizziness before grabbing his phone.
The screen lights up, illuminating Jasonās face in a soft blue glow, and displays a notification: Movement detected on Bedside. Speedily inputting the passcode, he taps the hidden camera app and a menu appears upon opening, displaying a list of cameras and a preview of what each one is recording. He selects the camera labelled āBedsideā and it engulfs the screen. It shows a close-up view of you sleeping in your bed from a camera hidden in your bedside lamp. Jason installed cameras around your apartment, aside from your bathroom, when you werenāt in. He needed to make sure that youāre healthy, happy, and not in any danger from burglaries, health emergencies, dodgy electrics, kitchen fires, and anything else that could take you from him. You silence his mind - your presence putting a silencer on his synapses that insist on quick-firing like the guns he uses at night. You placate them, tame them, and protect him from his mind when he canāt manage to protect himself. So, he has to protect you in return.
His gaze stays fixated on your sleeping form as he lays down in his own bed and takes the coiled-up earphones from the table, letting them unravel on his stomach. He grabs hold of the earphone jack and plugs it in, his eyes never leaving you. He picks up each earphone individually and slots them into his ears before raising the audio volume with quick presses.
He begins to listen to your soft breaths, and he can already feel his muscles relaxing; the tension in his chest loosens its grip on his heart and his lungs are no longer being suffocated by fear squeezing his breaths out. He syncs his breathing to yours to form a calming harmony and becomes absorbed by you, lovingly admiring your peaceful state. Youāre snuggled up in your duvet with your hair sprawled across your pillow in a tangled mess thanks to your tossing and turning: the same unconscious movements that triggered the camera alarm in the first place. If you could see yourself now, youād probably be embarrassed at how disheveled you are, but Jason doesnāt care. To him, youāre the dictionary definition of a sleeping beauty.
You were already his comfort person, but the cameras have transformed your life into his comfort show: his safe space after a difficult day, or a brutal night, where he can shut off the outside world and be part of yours, even if itās from a distance. Your life is different from a tv show, of course. Each episode is slightly different every time and thereās no canned audience, theme songs, or jingles to fill any silences. Itās alright, though - his laughter at your silly moments makes up for it. Besides, he doesnāt need any of those gimmicks to help his concentration. Nothing about you is boring to him; you keep his attention even when youāre sleeping. The unpredictability of your daily life is manageable, too: heās learned your routine over time and can accurately predict your next steps. He doesnāt mind the small daily deviances you make since it means thereās more to learn about you, and he wants to learn everything there is to know. The best thing is that there are unlimited episodes, though, āepisodesā isnāt really accurate. That implies a beginning and an end to the footage, which there isnāt. The cameras run 24/7, meaning thereās no restrictions to when Jason can watch you. That especially comes in handy in times like this, when the night is tormenting him and he needs your sunlight to save him from its darkness.
Thereās still one big difference between your life and a tv show. You donāt know youāre in a tv show. You donāt know your apartment has become a studio; a set with cameras catching every angle of you. More importantly, you donāt know you have an audience. An audience of one, but that one is a superfan who watches with unwavering dedication. Who screenshots his favourite moments for his evergrowing album of you. Who knows your habits and your quirks better than you do. Who is your hidden protector, silently shielding you from the pain the world can bring; the pain he knows all too well.
Jason pulls his duvet over him, turning on his side and awkwardly propping his phone up on his pillow with the screen facing him, still showing your precious sleeping self. He sinks into his bed and pretends youāre sleeping next to him, turned towards him in your slumber. Your imagined companionship makes his eyelids heavy, and your shared breathing creates a soothing rhythm that radiates through his body as his lids close, rapidly blinking to catch as many glimpses of you as possible before fully closing. Jason finally surrenders to your calming effect and he drifts off being enveloped not only by his duvet, but by your breathing in his ears, your picture in his mind, and his love for you cradling his heart softer than any duvet or blanket ever could.
AUTHORāS NOTES: AAAAAAH MY FIRST LONG FORM FIC!! this became so much longer than I intended, I hope itās not too long! Iāve always had this headcanon about yandere Jason where he, before making himself known to darling, watches them through hidden cameras after he has a nightmare to calm himself down.
TAGS: @l0vergirls @luludeluluramblings also I got inspo from @jade-zzz for the layout! ā¤ļø
he isn't in love, so don't get mixed up in the rumors. unless you're roy harper, in which you may observe the red hood get a little dazed by the sight of his not-girlfriend. you are beauty, you are grace, and jason todd is pink in the face.
ā¢ jason todd x fem nurse reader, roy being nosy, clubbing at the iceberg lounge, hopeless silly crushing from jay, 3k wc
IT STARTS WITH A FULL CABINET. And not just any cabinetāa medicine cabinet, stocked to the brim with unused gauze, rolls of loose weave neatly packed into a shelf. The chipped interior provides a stark background for a number of other suspicious things, too.Ā
Still-sealed suture packets. Two bottles of ibuprofen, both full. And get this: a long accordion-string of antibiotic ointment that hits the floor when Roy unfurls it. None of the serrated edges are ripped.Ā
Hell, it looks brand new.Ā
Call him paranoid for assuming, but a full medicine cabinet in Jason Todd's apartment is infinitely suspicious. It might be arguable that he's just recently stocked up...if it weren't for the thin layer of dust that's settled over everything.Ā
It also could mean that the rumors are true.
Of course, when Roy brings it up, rolls of gauze clutched into the crook of his elbow, Jason just works his jaw with one hand in his hair, the other scribbling in red Sharpie.Ā
āI have no idea what youāre talking about,ā Jason drawls, face steeled to perfection. He doesn't even look up, too busy brooding down at the spread of documents and maps pinned down by several empty cans of Coke; a few drops of sweet, dark soda stain the papers.Ā
āYou know, I heard from a little Robin,ā Roy sings, sauntering over and dumping the gauze onto the small tableāone roll bounces onto the floor and off Jasonās slippers, āthat you have a girl.āĀ
Gotcha. Wind had reached Roy from Donna, who had heard from Wally, who had heard from Dick, who had so on and so forthed until the rumor could be traced back to a certain grumpy, spiky-haired sidekick who claims to have seen the second Robin dreamily admiring a nurse as she patched him up on the floor of her apartment.
That makes Jason look up. A shadow crosses his face, one that makes an odd kind of shiver tickle at Royās nape. Itās the same kind of look that comes when things go sideways or shit blows up when it isnāt supposed or when Batman does something that really sets him off.Ā
(But like father, like son. The way Jason is practically glaring at that loose-leaf pile of shit looks just like those old photos of B sent to a long-destroyed phone. Courtesy of Dick, who always has a field day spamming the Titansā defunct, triple-encrypted groupchat when he happens to be back in Gotham.)Ā
And then Jason looks to the pile of little, unused rolls spilled across the table. Likeāreally looks at them, as if itās the first heās ever heard of gauze. Then he tilts his head and stares at Roy, mouth pressed into a razor-thin line.Ā
āReally?ā Jason says, brows lifting like heās totally disinterested. Then he points a finger at himself, really humored. āYou think I have a girlfriend? āCause what, I'm well stocked, or Damian said so?āĀ
Roy narrows his eyes, hands immediately coming up in defense. āI never said it was Damian.āĀ
āJust giving an example.āĀ
Jason shrugsātoo casual to be innocentābut Royās already caught on long before that. The little flicker of āoh, shitā across his face, the slightest thread of apprehension shooting through his deeply furrowed brow.Ā
Perks of being a deadeye: you catch all the shit everyone else misses.Ā
So. That little gremlin was telling the truth about seeing his adopted brotherāor however the hell their relationship worksāsneaking into a girlās apartment and being all lovey-dovey with her even though heās literally a menace to the city.Ā
And a menace to Roy, because Jasonās ticking jaw is starting to look like heās on the edge of flipping the damn table.Ā
"Alright." Roy concedes despite the nagging itch in his head. Jason Todd is lying. "If you say so."Ā
"That's what I thought."Ā
āĀ
Contrary to Jason's (likely) belief, things don't end at the medicine cabinet. In fact, that had just been the start.Ā
The next revelation comes when theyāre supposed to be infiltrating the Iceberg Lounge for a business exchange between a mysterious broker and the Penguināback from a brief stint in jail, again, much to Jason and everyone elseās chagrin.Ā
This is a no-mask occasion, just to play the harmless civilian and not get a beatdown from the bouncers.Ā
Itās loud inside the lounge, a heavy bass beat thrumming at such a strength that Roy is wary to even brush up against the walls. The soles of his boots stick to the floor, gummy in the way only nightclubs can be; the air is soaked with the scent of sweat and booze. Heās already flicked his shades on and pushed them all the way up to his eyelashes, but the strobe lights flashing through the nightclub still need squinting to get through.Ā
Thus, he almost misses Jasonās hand tapping on his shoulder, too busy shrugging off the hot press of clubbers swarming the floor.Ā
Roy turns, raising his eyebrows at his partner. He gets the feeling that this is a little strange, being on a mission bare faced with a stupid Gotham U shirt and a half-broken comm chip in the ear. Jesus, he looks and feels like a frat guy despite being a decade too old.Ā Ā
Jason doesnāt seem to mind though, dressed in a thin, maroon hoodie that does nothing to hide his shoulders, and grey jeans. Casual, in a nonchalant way. The Iām a frat who just threw on whatever and Iām ready to get sloshed way.Ā
His hand is still incessantly tapping on Royās shoulder, not really aware that theyāre already facing each other, Roy expectant and ready to listen.Ā
āHell-o?āĀ
āOh.ā Jason blinks, seemingly snapped out of it. Thereās a sort of far-off look in his eyes, mouth barely parted, like heās just seen a ghost and heās trying to hide it. His gaze darts around, but itās inevitably drawn to the blue-neon shelves on a back wall.Ā
Slow to say, tongue wetting his bottom lip, āIāll take the bar.āĀ
Roy huffs, crossing his arms. āAlright. Iāll take the floor.āĀ
They both nod to themselves, though Jason looks very satisfied that heās gotten what he wanted. Usually, they flip a coin or play rock-paper-scissors or use whatever is on hand at the time to decide scouting positions.Ā
Like that one time, with the water bottle. They had spent so long trying to get it to land upright that they almost missed their cue.Ā
But thatās a story for another night, because Jason is peeling away and making quick strides to the bar. He slides into an empty stool to the left of a woman, leaning his elbow on the counter with a small smile.Ā
Roy posts up against a wall on the opposite side of the bar, eyes roving. Thereās a suspicious-looking guy in the far cornerāa black suit type, slicked back hair and shiny laced loafers swimming with a leather-warped reflection of the strobe lights. The man is nursing a glass of whiskey, dark amber liquid turned to pitch when the music switches up.Ā
He scoots closer for a better look at their potential broker, and then he catches a glance of Jason at the bar, still talking to...Ā
Oh, shit.Ā
The screenshot passed around hero communications like a virus resurfaces in Royās mind. Sure, sheās wearing a cute outfit and some makeup instead of soft sleep clothes, but itās unmistakable.Ā
Jason Todd is talking up his not-girlfriend in the Iceberg Lounge during a mission.Ā
Peopleās eyes bugging out of their sockets used to be an impossible concept, and yet. Here he is, helpless on the other side of the club as all the little pieces click together and catch up to him.Ā
The hardly used medical supplies. The āoh, shitā look. The fact that Jason lied to Royās face.Ā Ā
You smile in that teasing, kind of girly way you did in Damianās leaked screenshot, much to Jasonās apparent enjoyment. He leans the side of his head on his left fist, that elbow in turn balanced on the bar top.Ā
Transfixed, Jason watches your hands move as you explain the mentality behind the designated driver role, how your day went, and say something that sounds like: it was super chaotic, but I canāt really say more ācause of HIPPA, soā¦Ā
Wait.Ā
Roy can hear you.Ā
He has to laugh softly to himself when he realizes. Fuck, Jason is so whipped that he isnāt aware of the fact that propping his head up has activated their comm chip.Ā
Not so much of a tough guy now, it seems.Ā
Keeping an eye on the could-be broker, Roy presses his earpiece in a little deeper and plugs his other ear to block out most of the clubās thrumming noise.Ā
āAnyway,ā you say, and even though Roy canāt see it, he knows youāre grinning wide. āWhat do you do, stranger?āĀ
Royās eyes flick to the ceiling, but only for a fractured second ācause the lights are starting to give him a headache. Of course you donāt know his civilian identity.Ā
āUhāā and thereās that telltale sound of Jason wetting his lips āāyou could call me Jay. Iāmā¦a fixer.āĀ
Funny. Fixer is quite a versatile word, it seems.Ā
You laugh in a tone Roy has only heard when a girl looks down and brushes her hair away. āIs it weird that I kind of guessed? I dunno, you just look like a guy whoās good with his hands.ā And then a little faster, earnest, āIām so sorry, Jay, that came outāāĀ
āNo, no,ā Jason is quick to interject, āI appreciate it.āĀ
āIs it weird that I think youāre a great guy after talking for five minutes?ā you ask after a moment. For the briefest second, Roy manages a peek over to the barāyouāre mirroring Jasonās pose, except the hand you arenāt resting your chin on is tracing the rim of a crystal water glass. You smile, close-mouthed, and he gets it. Gets why Jason is so drawn to you (even if Roy doesnāt feel the beckon himself).Ā
Itās a kind look about you. An open flame, ready to warm. You look at people without expectation, and knowing Jason, thatās big. He doesnāt have to be the Big Bad or the sweet, martyred Robin for you.Ā
You know the cabinetry of Jasonās body so well already, and most of all, you know him at his most vulnerable. Blue-green doe eyes, sweat-matted hair, hydrangea-bloom bruisesāthe whole works.Ā
You stand for everything Jason protects in the world: the raw, unfiltered good.Ā
Roy snaps back to what heās supposed to be watching right as Jason ekes out a rough chuckle.Ā
āSounds like you have some assholes in your life. Need a hand?ā Jason says it in the stilted, fish-out-of-water way he always does when heās trying to flirt without fulfilling the half-dead requirement first.Ā
At armās length, quivering for the chance to come closer. Like two poles on a magnet, rejection and attraction.Ā
(Mhmm, an asshole, Roy thinks, I wonder who. He feels like putting his head in his hands and screaming.)Ā
Giggling like youāre kind of drunk and arenāt the designated driver, āItās just one. Well, kind ofāheāsā¦a guy who shows up sometimes.ā A pause, as if youāre thoughtfully tonguing the next words into your cheek. āHeās a fixer too, in a different way, but I think heās really sweet under all that meanness.āĀ
Jason hums, considerate and falsely sympathetic. āIām sure heāll come around someday.āĀ
(This fucking dickwad just loves to play in everyoneās faces.)Ā
āSorry,ā you breathe for the second time tonight, āyou just have this really reassuring feeling, but I donāt wanna put my troubles on you.āĀ
āWell, I did technically start this,ā Jason says, and for the first time in what feels like forever, he has the gall to sound sheepish. Roy almost canāt believe his ears.Ā
āRight, right,ā you agree, that smiley sound in your voice again. Then you pitch it down, mimicking, āRough day? Looks like youāve seen some shit.āĀ
āThatāsāI donāt sound like that.āĀ
(Agree to disagree. Youāre pretty good with Jasonās tone.)Ā
Scoffing in amusement, you tease, āYou do.āĀ
āEven if I did, you definitely practiced that,ā he says. Itās in a fake-nonchalant voice that Roy can instantly pinpoint even through the shitty Bluetooth connection and the clubās deafening EDM slop. Jason really is defying all expectations tonight.Ā
You hum, āI mightāve picked it up from a certain guy. Canāt help itāyou have the same accent.āĀ
That gives Jason pause, if only for a moment. The cylinders in his brain are probably firing at maximum power. āThatās...impressive.āĀ
Roy wipes a rough hand over his eyes. God, can this guyās game get any worse?Ā
Chewing the inside of his cheek, Roy considers picking up a better job than people-watching. For example: right now, he could be building a crazy spaceship to take him to a planet far, far from Earth and Jasonās hopeless situation.Ā
A flicker of movement catches his eye. Approaching the broker is one of the Penguinās bodyguardsāRoy remembers him from the last encounter they had with the crime lord. Heād whipped his bow into the guardās nose.Ā
Still looks like that nasty break hasn't healed well.Ā
Slipping a deft hand into the back pocket of his jeans, he pulls out a vape. At least, thatās what the bouncers thought it was when they patted him down.Ā
Roy disassembles it, and a little silver pipe slides into his palm. Itās warm against his skin. A mini blowgun is definitely not his ideal weapon, but a guyās gotta do what heās gotta do.Ā
And now, thatās to shoot a tiny bug onto the brokerās jacket.Ā
The man is already mid-escort to the stairwell that leads to the more private lounge, flanked on the right by the bodyguard. It's a tough shot, and itās dark and noisy and stuffy as hell in the club, but itās also Roy Harper whoās doing this.Ā
Slotting the pipe between his lips, he waits for the perfect moment. In a dense, obstructed club like this one, the stars would have to align for him to make the shot.Ā
He does anyway, the tiny listening dart flying across the room and latching onto the brokerās shoulder.Ā
Pat on the back, Roy Harper, he thinks, mission well done.Ā
āĀ
āShe looked kind of familiar,ā Roy teases as they stroll out of the club, almost singing.Ā Ā
The thudding bass is still audible, even from the other side of the doors, and his ears will probably be ringing for another week. Not that he needs them to maintain his stellar aim, but how will he listen to Dickās incessant voice messages about his recent round of stalking Jasonās not-girlfriend's LinkedIn?Ā
Their feet are light on the concrete, only making a greater degree of sound when they briskly traverse the many puddles plaguing Gotham.Ā
Case in point: Lake Glenn, named after Glenn Avenue, where a twelve-foot-long, shallow concrete basin of stale rainwater is slowly colonizing the remaining sidewalk. It reeks of piss and sour dick, too.Ā Ā
Meanwhile, Jason seems eerily at peace. They cross the street to avoid the pond of pee, and heās got his hands stuffed in the pockets of his faded jeans.Ā Ā
He dodges a whirlwind of litterāit curls into a ball and bounces down the sidewalk like fucking tumbleweedāwith a pep in his step. One block over, a patrol car wails out a single chirp, and Jason doesnāt pay any mind.Ā Ā
Roy has never seen a smile linger this long on his partnerās lips, and it almost looks uncanny.Ā
He seriously considers grabbing the other man and howling: who are you and what have you done to my best friendās little brother? Ā
Jason Todd does not walk with a bouncy gait. He doesnāt stick his hands in his pockets, where the confinement can double the time needed to grab the nearest weapon. And itās certainly more-than-irregular to ignore a police siren and keep a faint smirk of anything but smugness on his face for more than five minutes.Ā
Diana H. Themyscira, heās in love and heās stupid with it.Ā
Instead, Roy just slips back into his practiced nonchalance and truthfully remarks, āSeems like a good person.āĀ
āShe is.āĀ
The answer is curt. Stony. No room for questions, but boy, does Roy have questions.Ā
And since when has he paid any mind to social conventions?Ā
Naturally, he must keep pushing. āAlright, I can excuse blatant flirting on the job, but dancing?āĀ
Jason grimaces, finally wiping off that disgustingly fond expression on his face. āWe didnātāāĀ
āDude, you donāt even try to defend yourselfāI saw you grinding on her like a lovey-dovey teenage boy with both of my deadeyes.āĀ
The chilly, damp air of the city does nothing to disguise the way his ears bloom with a dusty pink. The Red Hood may be able to school his face, but he still canāt control the involuntary rush of blood to his ears.Ā
Roy almost coos at the adorable observation, but he rather likes the shape of his nose right now.Ā Ā
Anyways, the thought is quickly overwritten by the sheer regret of witnessing how Jasonās fingers twitched when you guided them to grasp your waist on the dance floor. How his blue-green eyes sat at half-mast and dinner-plate dilated when he pulled your hips to his. How his lips had grazed the shell of your ear, whispering things that made your movements more desperate as you strayed from the pounding beat.Ā
Or how Jason, with a furrow of utter shame between his brows, definitely adjusted the fit of his clothingāspecifically his jeansāafter you kissed his cheek and bid a wistful, starry-eyed farewell because your friends needed you to step up as the designated driver.Ā
Said horny fool only scoffs, but a quiet smirk of amusement (holy shit, Roy just unlocked a new emotion) dawns on his face, and the sweet rays gradually brighten his gloomy countenance until the soft pink blush in his ears begins to warm his cheeks, too.Ā
And with it comes the slow, sweet creep of realization over Jasonās soldier-like posture.Ā
Thereās that lovey-dovey look.
āYeah,ā Jason admits after that moment of reluctance, flicking his still-dilated gaze to a rare patch of starlight glimmering in Gothamās cloudy sky. He lingers on the pretty sight, the rigidity in his shoulders melting slightly as newfound fondness swims in his eyes. āMaybe we did that.āĀ
notes: this is a continuation of part 1 where damian spies on jason & reader (and is sickened by the yearning) !! also rec checking out my much ado about luv event for some upcoming dc fics <3
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem! Reader/ Red Hood x fem! Reader
Word count: 5.7k
Synopsis: Your relationship with Jason is complicated, you take care of his kid and practically take on the role of his mother, and stay the night with them and yet he still won't ask you to be his.
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, established relationship, situationship, dad AU, dad! Jason todd, will they won't they, CW food mentions, CW suggestive language, fluff.
Requested by anon: single dad!jason todd x nanny!reader. she knows heās red hood, and is in like desperate need to make some money, and he needs someone to watch his kid while heās out vigilante-ing.you can obviously change stuff or like write it however you wish. ANYTHING U WRITE WILL BE PHENOMENAL
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Jason Todd Masterlist
āAre you joking?ā
āIf I say please with it would you do it?ā Jasonās voice is strangled against the phoneās receiver, and youāre beginning to think that heās currently fighting some petty villain whilst talking to you casually.
āIt's not that you werenāt nice about it, itās justāā sighing, you finish packing a second lunch box for Oliver, already agreeing to Jasonās plea before even saying yes to him. āāI literally just watched him yesterday. I have a life too, you know.ā
āYou do?ā You hear a pained groan on the other side as Jason huffs into the phone. Heās definitely out fighting crime again. āWhen was the last time you went on a date again?ā
āDonāt remind me, asshole.ā Rolling your eyes, you have a feeling that Jason could sense your sass through the phone, he has a sixth sense when it comes to your attitude.
āDonāt roll your eyes at me.ā
āHowād youā?ā You twist around as if there is a hidden camera around your apartment. āCan you please just fucking beat the guy, you breathing on the phone is annoying me.ā On the contrary, you feel your cheeks warm just from the familiar sound.
āWhat, I canāt even breathe?ā
āOi, what the fuck, lady!ā A strangerās voice adds amidst the sound of a metallic clang.
āAm I on speaker?ā
āSo demanding as always.ā You could just tell that he said that with a smirk. With the muffled sound of fist hitting skin, you finish packing. Waiting for Jason to answer, you grab the bags and head outside. The key fob clicks with a beep as you get inside your car. āYou little shit.ā Heaving, Jason returns to the call a minute later. āYouāre already in your car arenāt you?ā
āMaybe, maybe not.ā Placing the phone on the dashboard, you stifle a chuckle. āThat depends if youāll pay me my regular fee.ā
āPlease, you like watching Ollie.ā
āI do, but times are tough and I gotta pay bills too, āMr. I have a billionaire for a dad.ā My regular nine to five isnāt cutting it much anymore.ā
His soft chuckle has you grinning to yourself like a madwoman. Cheeks aflame, and hands suddenly clammy, even after all these years he still has that effect on you as if youāre a school girl having a crush.
āFine, I never skimp out on your fees, Iām not going to start now.ā His boots thump on the ground, āAnd you wouldnāt be having that problem if you agreed to stay with us.ā
āAnd have your son question the nature of our relationship again?ā Starting the car, you head out of the driveway towards the familiar road to Jasonās apartment that you have driven a thousand times before that you could practically drive there with your eyes closed.
āItās not my fault that he could sense the tension.ā Thereās keyboard clacking on his end, as Jason puts the phone in between his shoulder and cheek that you could tell from the rustle of clothing. āHeās a smart kid, and smart kids see through everything.ā
āIf thatās you saying that our friends with benefits situation needs evaluating then tell that to yourself.ā You say with a clear bite to your tone, knowing that you have tried several times to be more than his friend, not just to occasionally warm his bed. āYouāre just making Ollie confused.ā Your tone falls as you hear him shift on the other end.
He stops typing for a moment, a chill running in between the two of you as if he sits beside you in the car. There have been conversations about the exact same subject, and Jason would almost always segue out of it, or wave the topic away casually. Recently though, the tension is running higher than ever, youāve been staying at their place more frequently, longer even.
You have a space in his closet where you always have fresh spare clothes tucked inside, your clothes smell like the citrus fabric conditioner he uses because Ollie canāt stand the smell of lavender. You have your own toothbrush in his bathroom, your own loofah, a bathrobe that he bought in your favorite color on a random day because you were complaining of using his towels. You even have an extra pair of shoes, your own mug in the kitchen that Oliver painted at school for you, and a bunch of hair ties left scattered in Jasonās bedroom, all belonging to you.
There is a routine now at his apartment whenever you stay the night or two, sometimes longer than in your own place where you only go home to grab new clothes. In the morning youād make the boys breakfast, chocolate pancakes for Oliver, shaped like bats of course, and the usual egg and sausage for Jason that he always shares with you, chopping up pieces of the meat for you whilst you cut Oliverās pancakes for him. Little Ollie, all toothy smiles and giggles, rambles on about some show that he forced you two to watch last night whilst you wiped the syrup from his cheek. The three of you would always have breakfast together that itās basically ingrained in Ollieās routine. Itās domestic bliss, but itās all an act when you always leave. And Jason will only kiss you back when youāre both tangled under the sheets.
Over the years, youāve found yourself becoming closer to Oliver, you met him when he was just a year old, barely walking straight, still teething as he seemingly imprinted on you like a little duckling. The poor kid has grown fond of you too, but now that heās a bit older, heās asking a lot of questions. Questions that you donāt even know the answer yourself.
You read him bedtime stories, you help him get ready for school, you kiss him goodbye, and you tell him that you love him. And yet youāre not his mom, his aunt or anyone important in his life, youāre just the woman who takes care of him and yet loves him like heās your own.
Youāve left your mark in their lives, your life rotates around them, and yet, youāre still an outsider.
āYeah, I know. Iāll talk to him.ā Jason sounds defeated, tired and utterly conflicted.
āGood,ā your tone snags at the end as you clear your throat. āIām almost there, is he still with your neighbor or is Tim watching him now?ā
āTim,ā Jason simply says through clenched jaw as he continues his work. āI told him that youāre coming.ā
āYouāre always so damn presumptuous, Jason Todd.ā
āI know you couldnāt resist Ollie, even if you could resist me, only sometimes that is.ā
You park the car as you shake your head with a small smile. āOne of these days, Iāll say no.ā
āI know,ā he softly says, almost melancholic. āIāll be back before his bedtime. Try not to eat all my yogurt this time.ā
ā
āWhereās my favorite guy?ā Opening your arms, Ollie bolts out of the couch as he runs in between Timās legs, and launches himself into your arms within a second of his uncle opening the door.
āHere!ā Oliver giggles and kicks his feet happily as he wraps his arms around your neck. āI missed you!ā He grins toothily, voice squeaky as he tightens his hold on you with all of his five year old might.
āI missed you too, buddy!ā Squeezing him, you start to stand up but struggle a bit. āOh, what is your dad feeding you? Youāre getting so big!ā
Tim helps you up with his hand on your elbow whilst gathering your bags in his free hand. āI think he got into Jasonās protein powder again.ā He jokingly says, but not too farfetched when you once caught him trying to open the big jar.
āYou did!ā Leaning away, you feign a shocked gasp, smiling at Ollie as he giggles and nods wildly, already distinguishing a joke. He has a striking resemblance to his dad, from his dark hair and brilliant green eyes, itās as if someone cloned Jason. āWhat! You could go to jail for that!ā
āNo, you canāt!ā Little Ollie answers in his adorable Robin Hood costume, complete with a green hood that has a bell at the end. It jingles whenever he moves his head, adding to the cuteness.
āYes, you can!ā You tickle his tummy, garnering a laugh that youāre familiar with that never fails to bring a laugh from your throat. āItās illegal!ā
āItās not illāgal!ā
Tim closes the door behind you as you carry a squirming Oliver into the living room. You could just feel Timās eyes watch the two of you pensively. You already know what heās thinking though, the same as his brothers and sisters that has driven you and Jason to question the relationship the moment Ollie called you āmommyā for the first time.
You toss Ollie on your shoulder, garnering a happy squeal from him. āIām surrendering you to the police!ā
āThatās wrong!ā He pats your back, ādad said to not be aā¦be a smitch!ā
You snort a laugh, ruffling his hair whilst he kicks about. āIt's snitch, baby.ā
Seeing the mess theyāve made during playtime with all the plastic medieval weapons and shields around the place has you wincing if not for the mess youāve grown accustomed to whenever youāre around their place. Thereās even a handmade cardboard dragon, complete with green shimmery scales made from glitter that is sitting on the couch alongside a toy bow and arrow, courtesy of his aunt, Barbara. It seems that uncle Tim wants to overshadow uncle Damianās arts and crafts skills when you could see the evidence of the art supplies laying on the coffee table.
You feign an offended gasp. āYouāve been playing Robin Hood without me.ā Placing him down gently, Ollie looks up at you with his big green eyes. āWhatās the story this time?ā
āLord Tim called his banners against me just ācause I ate an apple from his tree! But I won by calling my dragon!ā He enthusiastically reenacts, arms wide around him, lifting off the fierce dragon as he āfliesā around the apartment.
āHe cheated, he means.ā Tim defends himself from the kitchen, opening the tupperware filled with cookies that you brought as he looks at it like he wants to marry the sweet treat.
āI did not!ā Ollie abruptly stops and stomps his foot. āYou had your own ogre forces!ā He then points an accusing finger at his uncle. āTell him that it was fair!ā Turning to you, he flutters his lashes and pouts, the expression he always pulls whenever he wants you on his side, which is almost always. Especially when itās against his dad, or in this case, against his uncle.
āHow many knights did you have, Robin Hood?ā Going around the fuming Ollie, you sidle beside Tim as you pick up a cookie, not taking a bite of it, just brandishing it around like a piece of meat in front of a lion. āBecause itās all in the numbers, you know.ā
You know the kid well as he follows the cookie in between your fingers with his gaze. āI thinkā¦ten?ā Pursing his lips, Ollie lets go of the paper dragon and steps forward. āCan I have some?ā
āThat depends, did Tim give you any sugar today?ā
The boy contemplates, nose scrunching, and fingers flexing, just like a certain someone. Itās almost the exact same face Jason makes whenever he watches you go, as if heās resisting the urge to ask you to stay.
ā...no?ā
āThat sounds like a question, doesnāt that sound like a question?ā You turn towards Tim, who is on his third cookie as you tilt your head at him and snatch the fourth one from his hand. āDid you give him any sweets today?ā
āHe had a popsicle because he was complaining about his tooth.ā He looks offended, eyeing the cookie desperately. You relent with a sigh and give it back to him. Tim immediately perks up and devours it whilst Ollie looks at him with jealousy.
āIs your tooth still hurting, buddy?ā With worry in your tone, you crouch down and Oliver crosses the short distance to embrace you. You know this reaction well enough, heās embarrassed. You pat his back lovingly, moving some stray hair away from his eyes as you peck his temple. āI told your dad that you should go to the dentistāā
āNo dentist!ā He flinches, but doesnāt move away from you. āIām okay, sweetheart.ā Sweetheart, he calls you sweetheart just because he has heard his dad call you that a million times before that it just stuck. Better than āmommyā that has opened Pandoraās box. āI really am.ā Cheek laying atop your chest, you hold him close.
āYeah, but your tooth will keep hurting if you donāt go. Dad will be there the whole time.ā You reassure him, giving him a loving squeeze.
āI knowā¦ā he raises his head, looking up at you worriedly. āSusie said that they have drills and knives and scary masksā and it will hurt more.ā
āWhat does Susie know?ā Tim adds, cookie crumbs all over his shirt and cheek. āSusie eats glue.ā
That garners a laugh from Ollie as you stifle a chuckle. āHow about I come with you and dad, hm? Then you can have all the cookies and ice cream you want after the dentist.ā
āAll I want?ā His eyes sparkles. āEven rocky road? Andā and your triple chocolate cookies?ā
āOf course.ā You might regret it later but at least you finally got him agreeing when no one else could.
āOkay, deal!ā In true Jason Todd form, Ollie stretches his hand for you to shake. Taking his smaller hand in yours, you then shake it with a smile. āCan I have one now, please?ā
Jasonās right, you cannot say no to his son. āFine, just half though. And if your tooth starts hurting again you have to stop eating.ā
āOkay!ā He hops in place until you give him half a cookie. āCan I watch TV now?ā
āGo, thirty minutes and then dinner for you.ā Patting him in the back, you watch him skip over to the living room, clutching the cookie like it's the most precious thing he has. You turn towards the tupperware as itās almost half empty thanks to Tim. You glare at him whilst you close the lid right in front of him.
āHe canāt even eat it!ā He protests.
āItās for Jason.ā
Tim groans and goes to wash the crumbs off his hands. āJust get married already, damn.ā
āTim, cāmon.ā You slap his bicep, palm meeting a wall. āOllie might hear you.ā
āFine, Iām just sayingā¦ā Sighing, Tim gathers his things from the kitchen counter and shoves them inside his backpack. āFour years together, if you even call it that, and youāre still around after all the āwill they wonāt theyā situation you two got going on.ā He zips up the bag, and slings it over his shoulder with a huff. āI mean, shit, Iād go fucking crazy.ā He utters lowly, for your ears only as Bluey echoes around the living room.
Your eyes wander towards Ollie as he kicks his legs on the couch happily, then over to the framed picture on the mantle where the three of you smile at the camera during Ollieās third birthday. āItās not like that. Jason and I are happy like this. It justā¦works.ā
āSure, keep telling yourself that.ā Hand in his pocket, he lets out a breath, eyes flicking from Ollie then back to you. āLook, I just donāt want you to be miserable and feel like youāre being strung along by my idiot brother. Youāre a fucking saint, honestly. Justā¦ just know when to say no and leave. Ollieās the one whoās going to get stuck in the middle of this. Heās getting older, and we both know that he doesnāt just see you as his babysitter when youāve been here since he was in diapers.ā
Arms crossing over your chest, you look at your socked feet. āYeah, I know that.ā
āIf Jason keeps being a hardass to you after all the talks youāve had with him then you donāt deserve this.ā
Your jaw tightens, inhaling deeply as you look Tim in the eyes and shrug. āI guess Iām the idiot then.ā
āI did not say that, but kind of yes. Just like him.ā He chuckles and grasps your elbow gently. āGood luck with the gremlin.ā
āOne talk.ā You say just as heās putting on his shoes.
āWhat?ā
āJason and I had one talk about our situation. The othersā¦well, never even finished.ā
āWell, keep talking to him. Maybe heāll wake the fuck up.ā
With the click of the door, you deflate and thump your head against the wall. Timās heart was in the right place, and you understood his words. Just like all the other words his siblings have told you about your complicated relationship with Jason. Every holiday and birthdays, at least one of them would tell you almost the exact same thing, or you see one of them sidle beside Jason and whisper about the same topic. You knew it was getting serious when Alfred and Bruce had to step in after Dickās wedding.
āI can see the way he looks at you.ā Alfred whispered amidst the sound of the first dance music. āI have seen it on them,ā he gestured to the happy married couple, then back to you as you gripped your champagne flute. āAnd on master Bruceās parents. Jasonās complicated, but with you, the look just comes easy.ā
You remembered the moment you looked at Jason across the room as he carried a sleeping Ollie in his arm, and a drink in the other, the way his gaze immediately gravitated to you was a shake to your core. If Alfred was wrong, then everyone else was. And thatās impossible when theyāre the smartest family youāve ever grown to know. And itās Alfred, he has never been wrong the whole time youāve known him.
Running a hand over your face, you turn your gaze over to someone you love without any complications.
āAlright, Robin Hood, grilled chicken for tonight or mac and cheese?ā
āMac and cheese!ā
ā
Jason comes home to a dark apartment, but unlike the time when he used to go home to an empty barely furnished place where it always feels cold and dim, this one is a comfortable darkness, where the warm lamplight from the living room spills over the couch where his two loves reside. He doesnāt feel alone, on the contrary, he feels complete.
The moment he sees you both sleeping peacefully that calms his anxious mind, he places his equipment quietly inside the closet. Unlacing his boots, he then takes off his jacket and mask, all without making a single peep, especially when his skin pulls at the movement, bruises aching, injuries flaring up as the adrenaline that masks the pain ebbs away.
When he goes around the corner, the TVās lights flashes across your sleeping face whilst Ollie sleeps soundly on your lap. The sound of the show is quieted down in favour of sleeping. Your cheek is pressed against the back of the sofa, neck tilted uncomfortably as you cradle Ollie lovingly in your arms. Heās curled against you in his dinosaur pajamas, arms clinging onto a Batman plushie you made for him when he was only three after he begged you relentlessly.
The two of you look like any other mother and son pair, and Jason sighs longingly at the sight.
Smiling softly, he reaches for your face, until he realizes that heās still wearing the same bloodstained gloves. His jaw tightens, how could he hold you with those hands?
You stir awake as you feel his presence, so used to the smell of copper on his suit, and the warmth that feels like home to you. āJay?ā Your voice crackles whilst you blink blearily at his large looming shadow. Some would be intimidated or even terrified of the sight, but not you, you reach out to the shadow softly, fingers wrapping around his outstretched wrist. āYouāre late.ā
āHey, sweetheart.ā Jason laughs through his nose, chortling under his breath. āSorry, I ran into some trouble.ā
āWhat kind of trouble?ā Concern knits your brows as you pull him closer into the light to survey his appearance. āYou okay?ā
He feels your eyes rake around his face and his form, swallowing thickly when you have no idea the effect you have on him. āYeah, Iām good, just need a shower and sleep.ā
When your hand pulls away, Jason feels the longing come back in waves.
āCome sit with me for a bit.ā You pat the space beside you, tucking Ollieās feet further into the couch to make space for his dad. If it was anyone else asking him, heād brush them off, but itās you, so he obliges without a peep, groaning as his knees pop. āNeed medical attention? The nurse is on call.ā Lashes fluttering, cheek resting atop your shoulder, you smile fondly at him.
Jason shakes his head with a chuckle, yanking off his gloves and shoving it inside his pockets. āNo, Iām good, nothing I canāt handle. The nurse can keep holding the little prince.ā His head droops back over the backrest of the couch, corded neck in full display whilst he swallows thickly as his fingers rake through his dark tresses. If only he knows the effect he has on you. āHow was your day?ā His green eyes flutter open, gazing at you with tenderness.
āWell,ā clearing your throat, you fix your hold on Oliver to disguise your flustering. āWe played Robin Hood for two hours, got him to eat some grilled chicken with his mac and cheese. And get this, I actually talked him into going to the dentist.ā You grin victoriously, tapping his broad chest proudly.
āShit. Howād you manage that?ā His brilliant green eyes glimmer with pride. āIāve been trying to get him to go for weeks.ā
āThatās the thing though,ā you bite your lip, wincing as if youāve done something wrong, or stepped over the line. āI promised him that Iād come along.ā
āWhy does it sound like you regret it?ā Brows furrowed, he has the look of bewilderment. āIām fine with that, Ollieās fine with that if he agreed.ā
āI mean, I thought itās a dad and son exclusive thing. Like a bonding thing.ā
āSweetheart,ā he sighs with a smile. āItās the fucking dentist. If my son wants you there then the more I want you there with us.ā
You let out a sigh of relief that he could feel. āThatās good then. Also I sort of promised him that he could have lots of sweets after.ā
āWell thatās where weāre going to have a problem.ā A growing teasing smile appears on his lips whilst you stifle a laugh. āHeād be up until dawn and that means weād be up until dawn.ā
āWho said Iāll be there after? Iām out after the dentist.ā You scooch closer as he loops his leg around your own like usual, pulling you close, like how he always does during movie nights and days spent together whilst watching his energizer bunny of a son. āYouāre on your own, Jay.ā
āOh, cāmon, not even for double the pay?ā Jason takes Ollieās legs gingerly and rests them above his lap so he could move closer to your side.
āNo amount of money is worth it for running after a sugar high Oliver Todd.ā You get the message as you place your head atop his shoulder. He winces before you could even rest fully on him. āShit, you okay?ā
āYeah,ā his face twists in pain. āJustā just give me a sec.ā With his large palm covering his shoulder, he pushes in harshly as you hear a loud pop that has you reeling and covering your mouth in shock. Ollie stirs in his sleep but with Jason patting his back sweetly, he goes back to sleep. āThere, you were saying?ā
āThought youād be disgusted.ā The corner of his lips tug up into a smirk.
āShocked, but I got over it when I realized that you fixed a dislocated shoulder without vomiting in pain.ā You stifle a laugh, nudging his knee with yours. āSeriously though, do you need to go to the hospital to get that checked out?ā
āNo, Iām good. Iām used to this.ā
āThatās not a good thing actually.ā Nose scrunched, he scoffs out a chortle, rolling his eyes at your expression. āI still remember the first time the hospital called me years ago, I didnāt even know I was your emergency contact. I thought youād have a gunshot wound or your face all melted but it was for a broken knee.ā Your tone softens, eyes meeting his own. āYou really scared me back then.ā
āThat was such a long time ago,ā Jason still remembers the frantic look on your face when you pulled open the hospital curtains. āI told Dick that I was fine but he had to fireman carry me to the hospital, said something about having fucked up knees of an eighty year old. He got a black eye from me then.ā
āI remember the selfies he took. While you were on the hospital bed in the hospital gown with the opened back.ā You shake your head at the memory. āHas anyone told you that you have a nice ass?ā
āOf course.ā He says almost immediately with pride that makes you roll your eyes. āSay that again when I get Ollie to bed.ā
āNoting that in, boss.ā You tap your forehead comedically, tiredness forgotten as your shoulder presses against his comfortably.
āYou know Iā¦ā Clearing his throat, fingers flexing on his thigh, Jason looks at Ollie before gazing back at you. āyouāre still my emergency contact.ā
You scoff. āWhy? Alfredās more reliable, heāll be there on a heli or something. If you guys still do the whole hospital thing when itās been years.ā
āBecause youāre not Alfred.ā He says softly.
āI donāt have a sick mustache so.ā
āSweetheart, Iām trying to tell you something here.ā
āThen tell me, Jason.ā You inhale, smelling the iron on his suit and the baby powder that still clings to your hand. āWeāve known each other for years, practically co-parenting this gremlin together and have seen each other naked a million times before so just tell me.ā
āI did it.ā
āDid what?ā Brows furrowed, your worry grows from his heavy expression. āEat the lasagna I left in the freezer for Ollie?ā You joke to ease him.
āNoā actually that might be me, but no thatās not what Iām trying to say.ā Jason fully turns to you, arm thrown over the back of the couch as his bruised knuckles brush along your neck.
āOkay.ā You hold the back of his hand that rests atop his thigh. āIām here. You can tell me.ā
āRemember when you told me that you thought you were being followed?ā
āYeah, but that was,ā you wrack your brain. āshit, that was years ago. Literally when Ollie was still a baby.ā
āI love how we determine time with Ollie.ā He takes a breath, wiping away a stray glitter from your cheek.
āBO, before Ollie, AO, after Ollie.ā Sucking in your teeth, you wince. āActually, BO doesnāt sound as nice.ā
He pauses, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of your lips that has you quieting down.
āWhat was that for?ā
āJust ācause.ā His brilliant green eyes glance down at your lips, resisting the urge to kiss you.
āRight, sorry, Iām not taking this seriously, what were you saying, Jay? You can tell me, I wonāt judge, whatever it is.ā
āThis isnāt like the mole I had.ā
āI still think it looked like a hidden Mickey.ā He chuckles, forehead resting on your temple before inhaling deeply and leaning away. āYouāre acting weird, Jaybird. Are you sure youāre okay?ā
āSweetheart,ā pursing his lips, he squeezes your hand. āYou were being followed that day. It wasnāt your imagination.ā
āShit.ā You suddenly feel winded. āYou found out about it? Howā? Who would even do that? Iām no one.ā
āYouāre more than that. And someone figured it out too.ā
He tells you how that simple passing comment that you told him once as you helped with unloading groceries you got him while he was too busy and sleep deprived with baby Ollieā and that he managed to uncover a whole crime syndicate hell bent on taking the Red Hood down and everyone who is associated with him. He tells you how heās been tracking and taking them down for years, and occasionally with his siblings. But it got harder, he used his own methods when they got too close to you and Ollie one day in the playground. Unbeknownst to you, your life was in danger together with his son, he couldnāt just let them roam around freely and wait for them to strike, no, Jason had to eliminate every single one of them. Even though it would take him years, it has taken him years. But as of today, he has finished what he started, and he can finally do what he wanted to do from the start.
āYouāve been hunting them down for years? All this time?ā Your eyes search his emerald eyes, looking for a joke or a lie, but you donāt find it.
āWhen I asked you to move in with us, they were getting too close to you, and I wanted to protect you as best I could.ā Jason leans forward, elbows atop his knee, as if heās in pain. His hair falls over his face, a dark curtain that hides his fatigue. āThought that it mightāve helped if you were near. But it only led to an argument.ā
āI said no because it wouldāve confused Ollie.ā Reaching for him, you retract your hand with hesitation as your brows furrow, holding onto Oliver as if heās about to be taken. āEven thenā I donāt know, you still felt so far away from me, Jay.ā
āI know,ā he sighs, shoulders taut as his shirt stretches from the movement. āI wanted to put an end to them before I could commit because I was fucking terrified that theyād get you, but at the same time I couldnāt let you go. I donāt know which one was harder.ā
For a moment you have no words, as you could only hear Ollieās soft breathing and Jasonās strained one. So with love in your heart for the man before you, you place your palm atop his nape, thumb pressing gently along his taut skin, caressing softly, right where you know a scar lies, one that he hasnāt told you the truth about how it came to be. That he got it for protecting you and his son.
Jason doesnāt pull away, it took him years to learn to not move away from your touch. A lot of unlearning too, that the whole world isnāt out to get him. That someone could love him enough to just be there and hold him for comfort. His muscles relax on instinct from your hand gently gliding along his shoulder blades.
āAll I know is that I couldnāt lose you.ā He finally says after a breath, fists clenching in front of him. His neck cranes to you, cheek pressed right atop your hand, eyes soft, and fully leaning into your touch. āBut now thatās done, and I couldā we couldā¦ I donāt know.ā
You encourage him with a genuine sweet smile, one that you only reserve just for him and the boy you cradle in your arms. āTell me, Jason, Iāve stuck around this long.ā
His lips brush along the length of your fingers. āTogether. If you want.ā
āJason Peter Todd, Iām cradling your son in my arms after running after him for hours on end and I still want to do it all over again. My clothes are in the dryer, my hair is stuck in your hairbrush. And Iām going to the dentist with you and Ollie even though I fucking hate it there too. What do you think?ā
āThatās the clearest yes Iāve ever heard without someone actually saying it.ā Chuckling, he mirrors your smile. āI think I should ask you out first. An actual date without eating mac and cheese while watching Bluey.ā
Cheeks aflame, stomach doing somersaults, you scoff that is akin to a laugh. āI would love that.ā
āYeah?ā His expression brightens, eyes glimmering as he sits up, taking your hand in his and intertwining his fingers around yours.
āYeah, just kiss me, Jaybird.ā
Jason does some maneuvering around Oliver that makes you bite your lip to stifle a laugh. He finally gets close to your lips as Ollie is completely on his lap and yours, still sleeping soundly as he kisses you chastely, and yet tender, enough to be a promise for more later. Itās the kind of kiss he gives you whenever everyone else is looking away, a simple kiss that reminds you that heās there, quietly telling you to wait, and wait you did.
When he leans away, he has forgotten about all the aches. All the while your eyes stay on his parted lips with longing, then back to his eyes that you love unconditionally. āIāll take your clothes out of the dryer and then take Ollie to bed. Meet me at our usual place?ā
Your brows pinch together, but the smile on your face remains. āThe bar downtown? Itās a bit too late for a drink.ā
āNo,ā he laughs, cradling your cheek in his rough hand, gently rubbing away the sleep tucked in the corner of your eye. āThe bedroom, my idiot.ā Jason says it affectionately, moving closer as he gives you a peck, and another, and another until youāre both smiling into the kiss.
You whisper teasingly. āAh, to continue our conversation, right?ā
āYeah,ā Standing up, Jason sheds his body armour, and shirt with one swift movement that has you mesmerized. Just so he doesnāt dirty his sonās favorite pajamas, he then gently takes Ollie in his hold, pressing a quick peck on his temple, before tapping your foot with his own. āItāll be a very productive conversation.ā He bends at the waist, still carrying Ollie as if he weighs nothing just to kiss you as if he couldnāt help himself.
āIāll be there.ā
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The Way to a Vigilante's Heart is Through His Stomach
Jason Todd/Civilian!reader
Gender neutral reader
T rating
Lowkey a comedy, you're just trying to do your job, Jason is a menace
1,636 words
Nobody told him there was a stupid event today.
In retrospect, it made sense why Bruce reconvened at the Batcave and ended his patrol so early tonight. Everyone was also used to Jason going off on his own once those brief meetings were done, so naturally, when Jason turned back around to grab a snack from upstairs, no one had stopped him.
The manor has tons of secret ins and outsā one in particular leads to a hidden doorway right outside the kitchen. Entering, he sees a couple of trays and little pastries laid out. Perfect. Alfred was practicing his baking again and he knows that the butler wouldn't mind him tasting some of his work. Taking off his helmet and placing it on the table, he digs in on the finger food.
That's when he realizes he's not alone.
There's shuffling at the doorway to the kitchen and he's about to give a quick explanation to one of the many snitches around the house when he finds himself caught by...
someone.
You look back at him, freezing at the doorway of the kitchen like a startled deer about to get hit by a car.
Slowly, he picks up his helmet, and moves it back onto his head.
You recognize him instantly.
Everyone in Gotham knew who Red Hood was. A vigilante in the most basic of terms. One night he might be saving someone from a shooter, another night he could be bombing the city. And tonight? You just saw his face.
A million thoughts run through your head in this moment. You curse god, berate yourself for thinking you were safe moving from a diner job to a supposedly bougie catering company, wonder if you were gonna be able to see your cat tomorrow, wonder if your roommate remembered to feed your cat tonight...
By instinct you run. That was obviously the wrong choice, because he sprints after you, and quickly catches up.
In a situation like this, your catering tray means nothing to you, company property be damned. You take the silver platter and toss it at him like an Amazon and her discus. Except you're no Amazon, and the cheap tray doesn't do much but clatter to the ground with a loud metallic ring when he dodges.
"What do youā mmph!"
You find yourself pinned between him and the dark wood panel of the hallway as he places a hand over your mouth.
"Don't even think about screamā fuck! Did you just bite my hand?" He hisses, shaking said hand out to the side to mitigate the pain.
"Help! Someone help me!" You don't hesitate. Maybe it's a death wish, but considering he hasn't even whipped out a gun yet, you're taking any chances of survival you can.
That's when you feel it. Cold metal wrapped around your wrist, then a tug. You stumble forward, into him, as he places a rag he grabbed from your apron into your mouth to gag you again as he pulls you away from the kitchen entrance.
You can hear one of your coworkers walk upstairs, calling for you.
Inside one of the many rooms of Wayne Manor is where he takes you, turning the lock. It's empty, because again, it seems your luck was absolutely shit today.
He turns looking down at you.
"I'm gonna take the gag out of your mouth, and as long as you don't scream, I'm not going to hurt you."
You look back at him, clear doubt on your features, but you nod.
Despite the fact youāre stuck in a room with a masked lunatic, you stay silent. Mostly silent. You attempt to spit out some of the cloth fibers stuck on your tongue.
"Who are you?" He asks, because apparently this was now an interrogation.
"Who am I?" You hiss, "Who are- what the hell are you doing here?"
"I was trying to get a snack, until you showed up."
Your eye twitches.
"Snack? At Wayne Manor? Can't you get takeout like a normal person?"
He pauses, and even through the helmet you can tell he feels called out by your observation.
"...I like the way the butler here cooks."
Why was that so specific?
"So what? You sneak into a high profile party just to grab some cookies?"
"I didn't exactly know there was a high profile party tonight!" He argues back at you.
You know you're pushing your luck right now, but come on. This guy is completely ridiculous, violent vigilante or not.
"Do you have a list of all socialites butlers and private chefs, or something? Do you break into St Cloud's penthouse too?"
"Maybe I do."
What! The! Hell!
"Well, I hate to tell you this, but none of those puff pastries were the butler's! It was my company's! So you didn't even get a bite of Bruce Wayne's butler's cooking!" Survival instincts be damned, you just wanted to spite this guy at this point.
"Really? They're not bad," he says, a pleasantly surprised tone running through his helmet's voice filter. It was something you definitely didn't expect because you're not sure how to take the compliment.
"Well. Thanks. I actually helped cook some of those."
"It's good that you can cook, because you definitely don't have any talent in running."
If this asshole wasn't built like a brick wall and armed to the teeth, you'd smack him right now.
"I'll make a deal with you, if you give me an entire tray to go, and you don't tell anyone I was here, I'll let you go."
Your eyes narrow at him in suspicion.
"You're smart not to take my word for it, but you don't have much of a choice right now. Either you let me walk away or I knock you out and make you look like an idiot who tripped over the hallway runner."
Because of course adding a hurt ego on top of a hurt body added to his threat.
"Fine, but I'm not gonna enjoy it."
"Of course you won't."
He keeps to his word though, and unlocks the door. Quietly, more quiet than you expected a man of his frame to move, he ushers you towards the kitchen. There's a small crowd of your coworkers just around the corner, probably looking for you and what happened to you.
You feel his hands on your shoulders, and the low sound of his voice close to your ear.
"I've uncuffed you. You're going to walk over to them and blame your accident on the dog dragging you off. Then you're going to ask for a quick break where you'll bring me the goods."
Then he pushes you forward.
You turn around to find him, but the bastard disappeared.
The sound of your shoes padding against the floor cause the group to turn towards you.
"We were just looking for you! Someone heard a scream, are you alright?"
You think, just for a second, before opening your mouth. You could tell them everything that happened. That the Red Hood was here. That he gagged you. That they should call GCPD and turn on the bat signal.
You open your mouth.
"Sorry, I got spooked by the dog here. Then it tugged me down the hallway to play. He's... surprisingly friendly."
A few of them laugh at that.
"Yeah, apparently the youngest one owns like 50 animals."
"Oh I heard about that, guess you can have that many pets if you're a rich kid."
They devolve into chatter before your manager reminds you all that now they know you're safe, they need to get back out there and serve and cook for the party outside.
You're not quite safe yet though.
True to your word, you exit out the back door of the kitchen, into the open night air.
Wayne Manor's backyard was more like a personal park. There was a well maintained lawn and garden that stretched out into the darkness. It seems as though it wasn't open to the party tonight though, the lights that lined the pathway off blending into the night.
"Took you long enough."
You jump at the voice.
"Careful, you have something I'm interested in."
He points to the little baggie of spanakopitas in your hands.
"You're making this feel like a drug deal."
He snickers at that.
"If this were a drug deal I would've shot you."
Maybe that should've scared you, but at this point, you're a little over his bullshit and ready to get back to work.
He lifts the helmet off of him again, and you can see his face.
He's fit, not that you couldn't see that from his actual build, but the chiseled jawline certainly doesn't let you forget it. There's a few scars running across his face too. Some of them more faded than others. Instead of feeling repulsed, you can't help but think it sort of... suits him.
You shake that thought.
He opens the baggie, lifting one of the pastries to his mouth and chews, getting crumbs over his chin and his dark shirt.
"Not bad, maybe I'll have to hire you myself."
"Please don't."
He lets out a dangerously loud cackle at your immediate response and seems to humor in the way you look around like a paranoid criminal. As if feeding him made you an accessory in his other crimes.
"Thanks, and don't forget, you might've seen my face, but I know where you work."
He jabs a finger at your very clear nametag.
Then as suddenly as he appeared, he vanishes into the dark lawn.
You could try to keep track of him, report where he was headed now that he's gone, but your gut instinct tells you that's more trouble than it's worth.
Besides, what are the chances you're ever gonna meet him again?
"Hey, hey, whoa. What's going on?" Jason is immediately in fix-it mode, serious as can be.
There are three things that Jason doesn't play about in his life. His work as Red Hood, Arlo, and you.
"Arlo, he- he's-"
"He's what, baby?" It comes out rushed as he hurries around his apartment to quickly slip on his boots and grab his jacket and keys.
what happens when the dog that you and jason coparent together goes missing
pairing: jason todd x f!reader
cw: no use of y/n, your dog has an established name, your dog is not Dog sorry :(, use of pet names (baby), you and jason are broken up, you share custody of the dog you adopted during your relationship, angst with a happy ending
wc: 2.7k
The rain that pelted down from the sky above was frigid, cold enough to turn to slush you were certain as it hit your face. It was dark and everything was wet as you ran down the sidewalk. Tears mixed with rain when you called out again,
"Arlo!"
With no sign from your dog.
"Arlo!" You call again before another roll of thunder shakes the sky above. "Come on boy, where are you?"
The storm was so bad that even the petty criminals had taken shelter inside. The sidewalk around you was completely bareen, only a few cars driving by on the dark road. Arlo, the dog you shared custody of with your ex Jason, had gotten scared by a roll of thunder and tore out of his leash as he ran off like a bat out of Hell. What was supposed to be a quick walk before bed had turned into a twenty minute search for the poor pup in the pouring rain in nothing but your sleep shorts, some shirt that you (refused to admit) stole from Jason, your slippers and a thin sweater.
"Arlo, baby!" You sniffle. Still no sign. "Please." Your voice cracks. You know there's only one thing left to do.
With your hand shaking, fingers icy cold, you bring your phone to your ear after hitting Jason's contact.
"Aw, miss me already?" Not even a hello from him.
"Jay-" His name comes out broken.
"Hey, hey, whoa. What's going on?" Jason is immediately in fix-it mode, serious as can be.
There are three things that Jason doesn't play about in his life. His work as Red Hood, Arlo, and you.
"Arlo, he- he's-"
"He's what, baby?" It comes out rushed as he hurries around his apartment to quickly slip on his boots and grab his jacket and keys.
"Breathe and focus, okay?" His voice is full of panic but he speaks so calmly and gently to you that it only amplifies the guilt bubbling deep in your stomach.
You take a deep, ragged breath before nodding. The sniffle you let out breaks Jason's heart.
"C'mon, talk to me." He says, shutting his apartment door behind him. You tell yourself to focus and sniffle one more time.
"He's gone, Jay. He- I was walking him, before bed. The thunder scared him and he ran off. I have no idea where he is." You explain, still looking around.
"Did you put his vest on him?" You can hear Jason getting in his car and turning the engine.
"No," you admit with a tremble of your bottom lip, ready to start crying all over again.
"He should-"
"Jason."
You already know a lecture is about to start. "He should always have his vest on if you're walking him alone. It keeps both of you safe, blah blah blah"
"Okay, I'm sorry." He sighs.
"It was just supposed to be a quick walk before bed." You explain as your voice threatens to crack again.
"I know, I know." Jason's trying to stay calm for the both of your sake. "I'm on my way right now."
You wrap your free arm around your stomach and it's then that you realize just how cold you are, now that you've calmed down knowing that Jason was on his way.
"Do you want me to send you-"
"Nope. I already got it." He doesn't let you finish, his voice gentle.
"How-?" You shake your head. "Nevermind, I don't want to know."
Because of course your vigilante-raised-by-Gotham's-greatest-detective ex boyfriend is still tracking you.
"Okay well, do you at least have a tracker on Arlo?" You ask. Because if he's tracking you surely he's-
"What? No, that's wrong." Jason answers.
You stop with a grimace on your face.
"What do you mean "that's wrong"?"
"He's a dog, he can't consent to me putting a tracker in him."
"We put a microchip in him!" You argue back.
"No, the vet put a microchip in him. Not us. Besides-"
"Did you put a microchip in me?!" You ask in horror.
The silence speaks volumes.
"So, anyway, I'll be there in ten minutes."
"Jason!"
True to his word Jason takes exactly ten minutes to get to your location, giving you plenty of time to spiral and - you're pretty sure - start to develop hypothermia under the cover of a business awning. He pulls his car to the curb and throws it into park, barely giving the car enough time to fully come to a stop before he's hurrying out and shrugging his jacket off.
"What are you doing out here in your pajamas?" Jason's doing his best not to scold you as he bundles you in his warm jacket.
Your fingers are cold as they brush his when you slip your arms into the sleeves. He doesn't comment on his stolen shirt that you're wearing. The jacket smells sickening familiar; the warmth and musk of his cologne, the cleanliness of his deodorant, and mint.
"Are you smoking again?" You ask in return, not answering his question.
Jason stops, hands still on your shoulders, and cocks his head.
"What?"
"You're chewing gum, you're smoking again aren't you?"
"I- that's not- you never said why you're in pajamas."
Smoking was a bad habit of his that he had before you started dating. He'd always chew gum after to help get rid of the smell that you always complained about.
"Because I was walking Arlo before bed." You respond quietly.
He sighs before answering your question.
"I might've smoked on the way over. Stressed about Arlo being out hereā¦" Jason's hands move to your face when you catches your bottom lip wobble.
"Hey, it's okay," he murmurs. His palms are warm against your cold skin. "We'll find him."
He sounds so sure, like he knows for 100% fact you're going to find Arlo, that it starts to renew your dwindling confidence on the matter. So you sniff one more time and nod your head.
"Right. We'll find him." And though your voice comes out small and shaky, you feel better than you have all night.
"Good," Jason smiles. His thumb slowly trails the apple of your cheek before he quietly exhales through his nose and let's go. "Which way did he go?"
You and Jason spend hours waking up and down each side of the street calling out for Arlo. He keeps his arm wrapped around your shoulders even though the storm has died down. He makes you stand on the sidewalk while he checks every alley, looking behind dumpsters and around corners. And stillā¦
"You should head home," Jason's starting to sound defeated and you hate it. "I'll keep looking and-"
"No," you stop on the sidewalk, eyebrows scrunching together as you look at him, "No way. I'm not leaving."
"You're freezing-"
"I don't care. I'm not going home until we find Arlo." You declare.
Jason looks at you and sees the resolution in your eyes. He debates on arguing with you, he knows that his jacket is doing little to protect you from the cold, but he also knows ā from years of experience ā that arguing with you when you're like this is pointless.
"Okay." He finally breathes out with a soft nod, pulling you closer to him before he starts walking again. "Then we keep going.
You're both soaked to the bone. Jason's hair is plastered to his face, his dark shirt almost see through, you think that if you have to spend another minute in the rain you might actually start to lose your mind.
"We've searched every block," Your teeth chatter when you speak up. "Do you thinkā¦?"
"What?" Jason cocks an eyebrow. It's obvious that he's not in the mood for your "worst case scenario".
"What if someone picked him up?"
"He's a menace, they'll drop his ass off at the shelter and they'll scan his microchip." He shrugs. You know he's trying to put you at ease.
"He's not a menace." You try to keep the smile off of your face, but it's hard when Jason looks over at you with a softness in eyes that speak more than his words ever could.
"He's definitely a menace." He says quietly as he squeezes you just that much closer.
"Only because he takes after his Dad." You respond teasingly.
"I take offense to that." Jason bites back. His lips twitch but he doesn't let himself smile.
"You take offense to everything." You remind him, smiling yourself.
"And now I'm taking offense to that." His tone holds mock indignation and it's hard to hold back your laugh.
It's almost too easy to fall back into a routine with him. Too easy to joke with him, send sarcastic quips his way, be held by him. So easy, in fact, that all of the fights and sleepless nights you spent arguing back and forth and countless tears shed for him are a distant memory.
You're close to going back on your word and calling it a night. You're so close to telling Jason you'll just try again in the morning and ask if you can spend the rest of the night begging for forgiveness. Your thoughts are spiraling, you're cold and exhausted and
"Do you hear that?" Jason suddenly asks.
The two of you stop walking so you can try to hear what he does.
"Hear what?" You whisper. You're on high alert, looking for any signs of danger or Arlo.
"That. Do you hear that?" He repeats. Again you hear nothing.
"Noā¦" you answer. "You and your freaky super bat hearing, what is it?"
"It is not freaky-" he starts to defend himself before he stops. "Stay here, there's something down this alley."
When Jason disappears down the alley you wait at the mouth, trying to peer into the darkness. It's useless, you can't see anything - not even Jason anymore. And what's worse is that you can't hear anything either.
After a minute, which felt like hours, you can barely make out the soft tone of Jason's voice.
"C'mere buddy, s'okay." "That's here, come here." "Good boy. Good boy, Arlo."
You take a step further into the alley, and then another and another, until you're running into the darkness. You're ignoring all of Jason's previous warnings about staying out of them because none of that matters if he's found your baby.
"Look, buddy, there she is. There's Mama, huh?" Jason coos to Arlo who's a shivering wet mess in Jason's arms.
A small gasp leaves your lips when you see him. You kneel beside Jason and gravel bites into your skin but the pain doesn't matter. All that matters is that Arlo is safe and coming home. You wrap your arms around the wet pup and bury your face into his cold fur before letting out a cry. Jason sits there for just a second before putting a hand on the back of your head.
"Hey, it's okay. He's fine." He tells you quietly.
"No, it's not okay." You cry into Arlo's fur. Arlo wiggles in your hold, trying to get closer to you. "I lost him, Jason. Me. I did. He could have gotten hurt or-"
The pain in your voice has Jason pulling you closer to him. The three of you now huddled together in the middle of the alley.
"I know, baby, but it was an accident. Accidents happen. I'm sure it would have happened to me if-"
"But it didn't happen to you."
He's quiet again, exhaling slowly through his nose.
"I know it didn't. It happened to you and it shouldn't have." His fingers stroke through your hair before he let's go, "Come on. Let's get you guys home."
The ride back to your apartment is quiet and tense. Arlo is in the backseat of Jason's car curled up in a shivering ball. It breaks your heart. Jason, on the other hand, has been uncharacteristically quiet the entire time. After, of course, telling you a thousand and one times that it was fine if you got his car seats wet. That didn't stop the guilt from eating away at you.
But you were thankful to be home. Your apartment was warm and after rinsing off yourself and Arlo, with Jason's help of course, you were feeling better. Just a little bit. Arlo sleeping on the couch next to Jason who had changed into an old pair of sweats and a shirt you had "just lying around for no reason what so ever", you in fresh warm clothes. It almost felt normal again.
You're starting a fresh pot of coffee for Jason when he quietly gets up from the couch and pads over next to you in your kitchen. The same way he used to when you were together and he would come up behind you to wrap his arms around you and press a kiss to your temple.
Only this time he stops a few feet away from you and quietly asks, "Hey, can we talk?"
You stop as your stomach drops to your ass with anxiety and guilt. You're thinking of every worst possible scenario.
"About what?" You keep your voice steady.
"I want to make a deal with you."
"Please don't tell me you want to switch our custody agreement." You practically whimper. The thought alone makes your chest ache.
"What? No," Jason shakes his head with a huff of a laugh leaving him. "God, no, I wouldn't- I wouldn't do that to you. Or Arlo." He looks over at Arlo who's still asleep on the couch before turning back to you.
"Whenever it's raining I'll come over and walk Arlo for you. Or with you." He suggests.
You give yourself a second to think over the proposal, your arms wrapping around yourself. Not what you expected but at the same time you're not sure what to think.
"That's- that would be too much." It's your turn to shake your head. "It's too inconvenient. Besides, I can walk him myself. I just need to remember his vest next time."
Jason hums in thought before he nods again. He's trying to come up with any plan he can to be able to spend more time with you and he's hoping you won't see through his bullshit.
"Okay, what about I come over and help whenever there's a thunderstorm?"
"Jason-"
"What?" He plays nonchalant. "I just.. don't want either of you getting hurt. You know how I feel about you walking around at night."
You huff in irritation.
"You always do this, you know that?" You take a step closer to him. "I know how to handle myself."
The smirk that tugs at his mouth makes you want to smack him.
"Oh trust me, I know. So does the scar on my thigh-"
"That was an accident!" You defend yourself with a reluctant laugh and Jason starts to smile fully.
"An accident? You're still sticking to that story? Babe, you stabbed with a fork!"
"You scared me!" You laugh again. "Why would you even come up behind me like that anyway? It's your own fault."
"I did train you well." He remarks smugly before stepping closer.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You wave him off with a shake of your head but his hand catches yours.
And when he steps even closer? When the air between you becomes tense and warm? When his thumb smooths across the palm of your hand? Your eyes widen and you breath catches and a quiet "Jason?" leaves your parted lips.
"Just let me help." He murmurs. "Let meā¦." He doesn't say "let me in again" like he wants to, but you can hear it when he adds on a soft "Please?".
And it probably goes against your better judgement when you easily nod in agreement.
"Yeah, okayā¦"
You don't think about the fights or the screaming or the storming out that plagued that your previous relationship when he wraps his arms around you. You don't think about all of the nasty things you said to each other in the heat of an argument when he presses his lips to the top of your head.
All you can think about is how right it feels when he holds you close and lets himself love you without fear or uncertainty.
Rain soaked socks @jupiterisyou - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
