Lovebirds {Jason Todd x Reader}
warnings~ okay so this isn’t smut, but it’s sort of referenced a few times (not really in depth, but- you’ll sorta see}, accidental injury, cursing, mentions of abusive relationship (once again, not in depth, really, more like fear of one)
request~ Can you do one where the reader sprains her ankle and Jason has to pick her up from the hospital and take care of her
a/n~ so i sorta took off with this request, and its a bit different than what anon probably meant, but i hope you dont mind! i had fun writing this one haha, soft jay is always the best jay.
“Yeah- Yes! O-Oh...Ow!” You shrilled, “Ow, ow!”
Jason let go of your hips immediately, “Oh shit! What happened, did I hurt you? Oh shit,” he pulled out.
“Ow!” You whined while grabbing your ankle, tightening your grip while rocking back and forth.
Jason wrapped his hands around yours on top of your ankle, “What happened? Did I hurt your ankle?” Jason was visibly terrified that he might have hurt you.
“No,” you heaved, “My ankle, I think I sprained my ankle, Jay.”
“Fuck,” Jason ran his hand through his hair, “Should I bring you to the hospital?”
“No, that’s ridiculous,” You tried to stand but whined in pain.
“I’m taking you to the hospital.”
“I will carry you there if I have to,” Jason warned.
“Okay. I’ll willingly go. But naked?”
“Right. Clothes.” Jason reminded himself aloud as he grabbed a pair of jeans.
You watched him hastily dress and run around searching for your underwear. “Where the fuck did I throw it?” He cursed to himself.
“Wait, check your pockets,” you advised him.
He pulled your undies out of his left pocket, “Bingo.”
After a complicated tangle of him attempting to dress you as gently as possible while still trying to rush, you were finally wearing unmatched clothes. “Can you walk at all?” Jason asked. Before you could get the chance to give him an answer, he lifted you up bridal style. “Never thought I’d see the day,” you teased while wrapping your arms around the back of his neck.
“Not....yet,” Jason shook his head and struggled to put on his sneakers with you in his arms.
“I could just roll to the car,” you offered.
“You’re being overdramatic.”
“I’m not,” Jason closed the apartment door behind him, “I insisted on doing that position, so this is my fault.”
“Oh please,” you said casually as he carried you to the elevator, “I was just too into it, is all.”
Jason unwittingly ignored your comment, or perhaps he just meant to. When you got to the car, he put you in the passenger seat then proceeded to buckle you in. “Really? Really?” You said in disbelief.
After the uncomfortable drive to the emergency room, and the wait in said room, you finally got to see the doctor. She determined that it was nothing serious and your ankle wasn’t broken. “How did this happen?” the doctor questioned, with a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other.
“Um,” you cleared your throat, “Well, see- we uh, decided to try something new? I guess, and then it sorta went south from there.”
The doctor blinked at your comprehensive answer, “This was...sexual activity?”
“Ah, okay. That’s all I needed to know. Okay you lovebirds, I suggest you stay off of that ankle for a couple of weeks, when you are able to walk you must take it easy. No heavy lifting, no strenuous activities- which, unfortunately includes these...sexual activities,” She eyed Jason, who bowed his head in response.
“Keep it on ice, and elevated. If it is still painful after two weeks, I want you to come back and we will put it in a cast, but I doubt that will be necessary.”
“Thanks, doctor,” you smiled, “I appreciate it.”
“No problem, it’s my job. You two can go now, take your time,” she said and left the room.
Jason was still staring at the floor, almost ashamed of himself.
“You can’t possibly think this was your fault,” you assured him.
“It is my fault. I hurt you. Do you know what that means? I’ve always worried I’ll just be too rough and hurt you somehow. I knew this would happen and I just let it,” the sound of his voice breaking made your heart hurt.
“You’re...taking this far more seriously than I thought you would,” you said awkwardly, “it’s really not a big deal.”
“It is!” He threw his hands in the air, “Did you see the way the doctor looked at me? Like I meant to hurt you? Shit, Y/N, this is just too...I’m too...unstable for a relationship,” he ran his hand through his hair. He did that whenever he got anxious.
“It was me who bent my leg the wrong way and twisted my ankle. Me. Not you, Jay. I did. You absolutely did not hurt me. So quit saying that. Come sit over here,” you patted the hospital bed. He hesitated, but obliged, keeping his hands in his hoodie pockets. “If there was even a chance you would hurt me, I’d leave. You know that, right?”
“But you wouldn’t, and you didn’t. My foot just got caught under the bed box spring, okay? You aren’t unstable, baby,” you brushed his cheek gently, “I know you aren’t.”
“I’m sorry,” he took your hand from his cheek and held it, without an explanation. He didn’t need one. He wasn’t very good at saying “I love you’s,” but his ways of expressing the words meant so much more. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, he finally looked up at you, “Can I kiss you?”
“You don’t need to ask that, you dork,” you grinned, “of course you can.”
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