summary : you and jason have a sleepover after having a movie night. you are hopessly in love with him and he's hopelessly in love with you.
fem!reader who has long hair<3
Jason was fiddling with your hair, trying to get it into two pretty plaits at your request. The only problem was that he didn’t know how to do hair. And you knew he didn’t, but it was still cute to watch him try. He was always so sweet to you, most people would probably argue he was sweet on you, that he liked you or something. You knew he didn’t.
…Okay, you hoped he did. But he probably wouldn’t, not a guy like Jason that had been through so much shit and still walked through it unbothered (too strong of a word to reference how he had actually felt, but whatever). But when he was doing your hair with such reverence and being so careful with you, so gentle, it almost felt like he could. You kept your eyes on the TV screen before you got too caught up in your own thoughts. One of your many movie nights with your best friend, even if this one was slightly more special, on account of the movie being ‘Wuthering Heights’. It was one of his favourite books, and you’d assumed the movie would’ve been well adapted (you were clearly wrong. He’d stated, since the start of the film, that the casting was all wrong and that it was going to be too long to actually enjoy. He was right.) He was too stubborn to turn it off now, though, not when you were so enraptured by it.
He wasn’t really aware that the only reason why you were looking at it with such attention was to not look at him and maybe mess up the plaits. Which were, by the way, going as wrong as they could. Your hair was all over the place, strands of it sticking out, and you didn’t want to admit it, but the hairbands were hurting you slightly. Him, being a detective first and a man second thanks to his time with his father, had noticed, and very carefully pulled out the hairbands, brushing your hair out of the plait and making it sting a bit less. Without thinking much, you leaned your head onto his shoulder, tipping it back to look at him through hair strands. With a soft smile, one reserved only for you, Jason looked back. He brushed the hair strands blocking your view away from your face, hands warm and acting like a siren song to bring you to slumber. Really, any touch from this man, however simple, was all-encompassing. You felt it in your veins, in your bones, in your everything. He was everything.
As if he knew what you were thinking, he turned off the TV, ignoring your huff and weak protests. With a strong arm, he lifted you up to the sofa, where he was currently sitting, above the floor, where you’d insisted to sit to make it easier for him to braid your hair. The cushions were soft, and he’d kept the ‘Fatson Todd’ you’d given him, even with all the grumbles and eye-rolls he’d given you once you’d bought it for him.
“C’mon, dove.”
“Hm?” You were so gone, let it be from sleep or love for him, you were barely listening.
“Sleep over tonight. M’kay?”
You didn’t do anything but nod, and he saw that adorable smile of yours again.
“I’ll let you have the bed.” Jason watched as your face crumpled up, frowning. With a gentle brush of his thumb to the space between your eyebrows, you relaxed.
“Either take the bed with me or let me crash on the sofa.” You were quite aware that he wouldn’t take the bed alone, not wanting you to be on the sofa, which really wasn’t that uncomfortable, but still..
With his signature eye roll and a grin that was all teeth, he gave in. “Fine. Bed. C’mon, up.”
He got up from the sofa with a groan and a hand at his lower back - patrol must’ve really hurt him last night - and helped you up. You clung to him like a koala, unable to do much of anything else, still too caught up in the essence of him. You were well aware that you were acting (and were) an idiot, but you didn’t really mind. Especially not when Jason swooped you up off your feet, taking you to his bedroom in a princess-style hold.
You were both already in your pajamas, his being a T-shirt and some long pants, thanks to the Gotham cold, yours being the same, but borrowed from him. The descent to the bed was gentle, and you loved that, so sleepy that your eyes had started to hurt from keeping them open.
“Go to sleep, lovely.”
“Mmh?” You opened your half-lidded eyes to make them appear slightly wider, trying to see anything but a blur of darkness.
“Go to sleep. I’ll be beside you, y’know I won’t leave.” In an instant, he was under the covers with you, gently holding your wrist and pressing a kiss to your pulse point. You couldn’t avoid a smile at that, and he saw how it completed you, as if you were a person meant to smile, how your hair framed your face and just how lovely you were.
With a nod, you took a risk by cuddling up next to him, wrapping a tentative arm around his waist, though he was much bigger than you, and feeling him wrap his arms around you back. His warmth overtook you, crashed over you like a very welcome wave, and you practically heard Hypnos calling you. To make his call even more irresisting, Jason had started to talk to you in a low voice, as he always did when you had trouble sleeping - not that you did, but it was still a nice touch. He rattled on and on about patrol, about how he had seen a stray cat that you would’ve loved and taken home, about how you both would’ve kept it. Sweet nothings, everythings, and all in-between. You slept peacefully that night, how could you not, with Jason Todd holding you?
