Summary | The Lazarus Pit had some unexpected side effects.
Warnings | 18+, sexual content, smut, grinding, in public, humiliation, light dubcon, multiple orgasms, no female orgasms, so much come, like genuinely so much, angst?, fluff, Jay is secretly a sweetheart and a simp, obviously.
Words | 2.8k
Notes | Based on this. (Lol imagine that’s you know what all over him in the pic🫣🤭)
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
The pit didn’t just give him trauma— it affected his body too, giving him enhanced strength, speed, durability, and healing. But there was another, lesser known side effect.
Honestly he hasn’t even thought about it for the past few years- always too focused on recovering from fucking dying, then on revenge and helping Gotham the way Batman couldn’t. But once it hit him… it hit him like a ton of bricks.
He doesn’t know where Batman or Nightwing were and why they weren’t with you, but there you were, the Batgirl suit even more flattering on your now mature body, making his cock strain in his pants. And you— you stupid little girl— decided to go after him alone.
He tried to fight it, really he did, but when he had you pinned under him in a matter of seconds, he couldn’t help the way he pushed his crotch against you, trying to get a little bit of relief.
“W- Get off me, you fucking creep!” You yelled once you noticed. He didn’t give you an answer because he knew exactly what would shut you up. So he took off the helmet and tossed it to the ground as your eyes widened. “Jason?” You said through a breath, making him growl at the sound of his name rolling off your tongue. He parted your legs, then settled between them and leaned over you as he rutted against your clothed heat. He only lasted a few seconds before the tightness of his pants became painful, so he leaned up to open them and pull his cock out.
“What the hell are you doing?” You gasped, but there was no malice in your tone. Just pure shock and arousal. He leaned back down, shoving his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling deeply, not able to control the way his hips started rutting against you just from your scent. You still wear the same fucking perfume that always used to make his cock fatten up in his pants whenever he got too close to you.
He was panting against your neck now, his cock, trapped between your bodies, growing so incredibly sensitive that it almost fucking hurt. And his balls— god, he doesn’t ever remember a time in his life where they were this fucking heavy and full and aching.
It wasn’t long before he was nearing his orgasm, especially when he focused on your breath on his neck and the way the swell of your tits felt against his chest. He choked out a moan, not able to control the way he started whimpering- so fucking desperate for relief. His brows furrowed, mouth open in a silent moan as his cock started twitching, then shot out rope after rope of come. He’s had enough orgasms to know that the way this one felt was definitely not normal. Even after a few years without it, it shouldn’t be this fucking intense and long.
“God- what the fuck?” He whined, hips still desperately rutting against you as he rode out the endless orgasm. He could feel the mess through his own layers of clothing and he knew that your suit would be fucking wrecked when he was done. But it didn’t stop. He came for what felt like hours, listening to the pulse in your neck, smelling your perfume, feeling the delicate skin on his lips.
“Fuck,” He whimpered, still rutting against you, but the friction was starting to lessen because of his cock being completely soaked with come. His balls just barely lightened, still feeling incredibly full and sore. When he finally, finally felt his orgasm fading, his hips slowed to a stop as he panted, trying to catch his breath.
“Jesus fucking christ-“ You moaned through a breath. His cock twitched at the sound of your voice, never even having a chance to start softening before his whole body burned with need again. He leaned up to examine the mess, finding the entire crotch area of both of your suits completely soaked, as well as most of your mid sections too. He looked down further, finding come still dripping down the flushed tip all the way to his balls. His cock was so hard, it was almost visibly throbbing and his balls looked almost as full as they felt.
“Jason?” You asked quietly, making his eyes snap up to yours with a growl. Your cheeks were pink, lips red and swollen as if you were biting them and he wanted nothing more than to shove his cock between them and make you drink his come, but even with the primal urges overtaking his brain, he couldn’t do that. Not to you. So with another growl he flipped you over, his come making a slapping sound as you landed. This time he kneeled over your legs instead of between them and he laid over you again to hold you still as started rutting against your covered ass.
If he thought the smell of your perfume was intoxicating, it was nothing compared to your hair. He took a deep breath and let out a quiet groan, remembering how he used to be able to smell it when you hugged him. But back then it didn’t make him feel like this— it didn’t make his cock throb and it didn’t make him start whining.
“Jason,” You suddenly said, trying to push yourself up, but his entire body weight was holding you down. He didn’t want to listen to your protests— to your rejection, so he placed a hand over your mouth, making you release a startled moan.
“Shh, I’m sorry. It’s okay, I just- I need this, baby— need you.” You whined against his palm, the sound sending a jolt to his cock.
It took every fiber of his being to not tear your suit and fuck your cunt- fill you up with load after load of his come until you milked him dry. But through those thoughts, he could hear a quiet voice reasoning that he wouldn’t be able to come back from that and he would lose you forever. And even though his cock was begging to be buried in a tight, warm cunt— in your tight, warm cunt— he knew it was true. So this would have to do for now. Just thinking about fucking you had him barreling toward his second orgasm.
“Oh fuck- oh my god.” He whined, resting his forehead on your shoulder. His free hand was clenched so hard to keep from touching your tits, or anywhere else, that his fingers were starting to hurt.
Despite him pinning you down completely, you managed to push your hips up a little, pressing your ass even harder against his cock. The action had him gasping out as he fell over the edge again. He couldn’t hold in the whimpers and moans as his cock twitched between your ass and his pelvis, spurting ropes of come into the tight space. His balls were practically throbbing— pulsing with each shot of come that left his cock.
He continued rutting against you desperately, trying to get the most out of this agonizingly long orgasm. While he could feel some of his come coating his cock, it seemed like most of it landed on the small of your back that was arched as you held your hips up. The ache in his balls was already starting to alleviate, but they weren’t empty yet, so he sat up on his knees to continue, groaning at the sight of the entire lower section of your midriff covered in his come.
“Jason?” You asked quietly, but he ignored you as he lifted you onto your knees, pushing you down by your upper back when you tried to rise on your hands.
“I’m sorry- Just one more, I promise, baby, one more.” He whined, positioning you how he wanted, with your legs squeezed together. The sight of his come rolling up your back into your cape had his cock twitching in need, so he slipped between your thighs and immediately started fucking you. There was enough come covering his length that the friction didn’t hurt, but honestly he could’ve used a little more friction, especially because the material of your suit had him sliding in and out easily.
His hands moved to your hips, gripping tight enough to make you whimper so that they didn’t drift to your ass. Bucking into you as he desperately chased relief again, his eyes trailed all over your body, mostly focusing on your ass through the skin tight suit, but moving up your come covered back too. His balls slapping against your thighs with each thrust was almost starting to hurt, but he couldn’t stop— not even if he wanted to.
“Oh god- I’m so close. Almost there, baby. Just one more I think— Just one more and I’ll feel better.” He choked out, bucking into you wildly. The sound of his wet pants hitting your wet suit was deafening on the otherwise quiet rooftop. When you squeezed your thighs together even harder, he let out a broken moan, cock throbbing, anxiously awaiting the pleasure.
“Oh fuck-“ He groaned, cock twitching between your legs as his come shot out, painting your stomach. Quickly pulling back, he fucked his fist, watching as his come covered your ass and dripped down your thighs. “Shit,” He whimpered, when it just didn’t stop. It was less than his previous orgasms, but still enough that you were practically kneeling in a pool of his come. The last few spurts landed on his fist, dripping down his hand to the puddle on the ground as he panted, trying to catch his breath.
Releasing his cock, he watched the way it still twitched pathetically, but despite that, he knew he was done. What he didn’t know however, was how he was going to clean all of this shit up. His cock was slick with his arousal, dripping down to his balls, adding to the mess on his pants. His hand and clothes were in a similar state.
“Jay?” You asked quietly, making his eyes snap up to you.
“Shit-“ He helped you up so you were sitting in front of him. The come that was on your stomach had rolled up to your chest, coating your tits, making him hiss as his cock twitched at the sight. You were practically covered head to toe in it. “I- Are you…” You flung yourself at his body, wrapping your arms tight around his torso in a hug. He tried not to focus on the way that his come would now be on his chest too. When you pulled back— way too soon, he thought with a frown— you slapped his arm, making him grab the slightly aching spot.
“Ow- What the hell?”
“You have a lot of fucking nerve to be asking me that when you’re the one who needs to start explaining.” You growled, crossing your arms over your chest with a scowl.
“…You’re mad?” He asked sheepishly, watching your expression start to shift into one of amusement before you hardened it again.
“You’re dead. What the fuck, Jason?”
“I’m sorry. Can we just- go somewhere other than here and get cleaned up, then I’ll explain?” He asked, gesturing to the pool of come you were both in. A light blush painted your cheeks when you glanced at the mess.
“Fine.”
He took you to his safe house and apologized profusely, promising to clean your suit for you. Only once you were both dressed in his clothes and sat on the couch did you suddenly realize that Jason is in front of you. Jason who you haven’t seen in years, Jason who’s older now, but still just as pretty as the day you met him. Jason who you couldn’t save.
“How long have you been back?” You asked, trying to hide your emotions as you crossed your arms over your chest and cleared your throat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner. I had to… work through some things.” You tried to wait patiently for him to explain, but it didn’t seem like he was going to do that anytime soon, so you continued.
“Tell me what happened. I don’t understand how you’re here right now.” He sighed, glancing away from you.
“Do you know what the Lazarus Pit is?”
“The thing Ra’s Al Ghul uses, right?”
“Yeah… He- put me in it. That’s how I’m back.” He muttered.
“Shit- are you okay?” You’ve heard the stories of what it can do to a person and your chest ached knowing that he went through something like that.
“I’m alive.” He shrugged with a dry chuckle.
“I’m sorry.” You moved to wrap your arms around him in a hug, but stopped when he leaned back. When he saw your hurt expression, he rushed to explain himself.
“It’s not you! I just- I can already smell you from here and it’s taking everything in me to not do something I’ll regret. Again.” Your brows furrowed in confusion but when you glanced at his crotch, your eyes widened in understanding.
“I don’t understand how you can still be hard after that. Actually- I don’t even understand how that was possible in the first place.”
“I didn’t know it was possible either… When I came back, I was different— stronger, faster. I guess that changed too.” He explained and you nodded in understanding even though it still barely made sense to you. “Plus the last time I came was like a week before I died so it’s been a while.”
“Jesus- Jason, tmi.”
“That’s tmi?” He scoffed in disbelief. “I just fucking came on you three times and that’s too much?”
“Oh my god- stop.” You muttered, burying your burning face in your hands. “Why did you wait so long though? I mean, I’m assuming you had at least a little bit of time after you came back.”
“The thought never even crossed my mind. Not until— until I… saw you.” He mumbled the last part so you could barely hear it, but you did. “Look, I’m really fucking sorry. I know it’s not an excuse to say I couldn’t control myself, but even then, I still shouldn’t have done it.”
“You don’t have to apologize.”
“Are you kidding? I assaulted you!” He exclaimed, making you roll your eyes.
“Okay well maybe my mess wasn’t nearly as bad as yours, but if you’d bothered to check, you would’ve found evidence to the contrary.” His eyes widened slightly, lips parted in shock.
“You-“ His eyes moved down to your pants as if he’d be able to see what you were talking about. “I don’t… What?”
“You’re so clueless sometimes, you know that?” You chuckled, giving him a small smile.
“I’m not.. clueless. I was just distracted.” He muttered, a blush painting his cheeks.
“Uh huh. I have a question.” You said, changing the subject.
“Shoot.”
“Why me? I’m sure you saw plenty of other girls throughout the years so why did I make you break?” His lips curled up into a small smile and you couldn’t help but feel like there was an inside joke you weren’t a part of.
“You’re so clueless sometimes.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” You frowned.
“Jesus- I don’t know what job you have, but I really fucking hope you’re not a detective.” He chuckled and you hit his arm again.
“Shut up. Just tell me.” His expression suddenly dropped into a more serious one and you felt anxiety start to twist in your stomach.
“Because I’ve had a crush on you since we were like 14.” He muttered. You stared at him in shock and when he turned to finally look at you, you could see the moment where he realized he wanted to backtrack. “Which is really fucking awkward if you have a boyfriend or don’t feel the same way because I did not think this through nearly enough,”
“Me too.” You said, putting an end to his rambling.
“What?” He choked out.
“I’ve had a crush on you too. But since we met, not since we were 14.”
“You did?”
“Yeah… Why did you think I was so fucking awkward around you?” You chuckled, making him smile.
“I don’t know, I just thought you were awkward.” He shrugged. “Do you… still have a crush on me?” He asked coyly, as if he was giving himself the opportunity to pass it off as a joke.
“I wouldn’t have let you come on me three times if I didn’t.” You said teasingly, your smile widening from his reaction. You liked turning the tables, making him blush for once. “Do you still have a crush on me?”
“I wouldn’t have come on you three times if I didn’t.”
SUMMARY: The Santa Claus in question was handsome as ever; he had foregone the fake belly but kept the beard. Why did you suddenly have the urge to cut in line and sit on his lap?
'Tis the season.
If you hear this phrase one more time, you might just blow your stack. Being surrounded by kids at the moment, you kept your cool. The last thing you needed was to be bombarded by disappointed nuns on Christmas Day.
Of course, you wouldn't be nearing the end of your patience if Santa Claus had just shown up at the event.
The Christmas party organized by the Wayne Foundation for the orphaned children of Gotham was supposed to be your present for the city you grew up in. Since you were tasked by Bruce to oversee the event, you had hoped everything would go smoothly, seeing as, in true Bat-vigilante fashion, you prepared contingencies (and contingencies for those contingencies) in case anything went south.
What you didn't account for (really, it should have been the first thing you made a contingency plan for) was the man you hired to dress up as jolly old Saint Nick not showing up. Now, for the past hour and a half, you've been stuck to your phone trying to find someone willing to put on the snow-white beard and red suit. If you still can't find someone in the next five minutes, you'll don the Santa suit yourself, you resolved. You just hope the kids won't be disappointed. The last thing you want is to ruin a lot of children's Christmases by being a subpar Santa.
After getting off the phone with Roy Harper (yes, you were desperate enough to call even your vigilante colleague), you sighed in defeat. With all the actual Santas already booked, there was no one left in the city you could hire. You were debating whether it was worth it to break Waylon Jones out of Arkham Asylum, knowing that the man has always had a soft spot for you and would do anything you ask, when Roy called again.
"Tell me something good, Harper," was your way of greeting. "I'm begging you."
"You do know that sounded like an innuendo, right?" He answered after clearing his throat.
"Yeah, well," you look around to make sure there aren't any nuns nearby. "I'll probably need a way to let out my frustration if I don't find a Santa Claus soon."
"Right."
"Anyway, at this rate, I might as well use the suit myself and hope for the best."
"While I'm sure you'd rock in a Santa suit, don't do that yet," you've never heard Roy sound so excited. "I found someone willing to help you."
Please, not him, you thought.
"I would do it myself if I weren't in another city right now," Roy continued, unaware of your growing despair. "And well, Jaybird is in Gotham."
"No."
Have you been a naughty kid this year? Is that why you're being punished? Or is it simply the universe messing with you by using your ex, Jason Todd, in your time of need?
"No," you repeated. "Anyone but him, Roy."
"Come on, it's been a year since..."
"I said no."
"He's willing."
"Harper."
"And you're out of options."
You choked on this. Of course, it was so in line with Roy's personality to use this opportunity to make you and Jason talk again. With you desperate and Jason being a softie for children in need, you almost believed Roy had done something to the man you originally hired. Wait a damn minute…
He didn't.
"ROY HARPER!"
"Okay, gotta go," Roy says hurriedly. "Jaybird will be there in ten."
Before you could berate the red-haired man any further, the line went dead. If you hadn't been surrounded by nuns and children, you would've been cursing to the high heavens right about now. Leave it to Roy Harper to pull a stunt like this.
The next ten minutes were probably the most anxiety-ridden minutes of your life, and that was saying something. You've faced off against the likes of Scarecrow and Poison Ivy, yet the knowledge that you're about to see your ex-boyfriend again after a year of not seeing or talking with him was more terrifying than fighting the Gotham rogues. Then again, you wouldn't be so worried if the break-up had been amicable.
It wasn't.
You both have said things you can't take back. You've burned that bridge to ashes and built walls around yourselves, allowing the chasm between you to grow ever larger. Regret has since been a permanent fixture whenever you think about Jason Peter Todd.
So, it was really no surprise when, upon seeing Jason at the entrance of the community centre where the event is being held, you couldn't help but blame yourself for losing the most beautiful connection you've ever had.
The first time Jason met you, you were twelve and thirteen respectively. He had just been picked up by Batman after getting caught stealing the tires of the Batmobile, while you were already training to be the next Batgirl. Your family back then were neighbors with the Gordons, and, as though it was fate, you happened to be the biggest Batgirl fan on the planet.
Jason thought you were annoying at first, a know-it-all whose favorite pastime was to criticize his every move. It didn't help that he found your sharp mind intimidating and that he had noticed how extraordinarily pretty you are, even when your face was obscured by a cowl. Okay, maybe he was in denial about his feelings for you (a massive crush at the time), but not anymore.
So, imagine the utter betrayal he felt when you accused him of cheating on you.
It happened a year ago, and Jason, who hadn't seen you in months after traveling in space with the Outlaws, was looking forward to spending time with you again. Only, when he got home, all your things had been cleared out. When he finally tracked you down, you had been staying with Barbara, you turned him away, accused him of being a cheater, and, well, he lost his temper and yelled at you.
Barbara kicked him out after he had reduced you to tears.
You haven't seen each other since.
He knew you had been avoiding him since your break-up and, like the fool he was, allowed you to widen that distance.
He managed to convince himself that it was for the best, that he would have just dragged you down to the farthest depths of hell if he had stayed with you. It took his best friend and youngest brother literally knocking some sense into Jason for him to realize that you were the best thing to ever happen in his life and he was an imbecile for letting you leave. He thought about Damian and how he owed the teenage boy so much for watching your back while on patrol, not that you needed protecting.
So, after much convincing from Roy and Damian (Jason shuddered at the thought of them teaming up) that he wasn't anything like Willis Todd, he allowed himself to be persuaded into helping you out. He suspected the two had done something to the man you originally hired to dress up as Santa Claus, but didn't care enough to check that they hadn't roughed him up. How can he care about anything else when you're now standing a mere few feet away from him.
"Come on," you muttered to him, foregoing any greeting and shattering the nice reunion he thought you two would share. "You have five minutes to change, then it's show time."
"Show time?"
You frowned up at him, mentally cursing his height. "Do you know what kids want from Santa, Jason?"
He noticed there was a certain edge to your tone, as though you'd rather be doing anything else than talking to him. "Uh, presents?"
"Yes, presents," you hissed, crossing your arms over your chest. "And what else do they want?"
"Uh…"
You were scowling now. "They want to sit on Santa's lap and lie through their teeth about how they've been such wonderful kids this year and therefore deserve presents!"
You gestured over to the raised platform in the middle of the room, where a cushioned throne-like chair stood, your eye twitching in anger. "So, if you're not over there in five minutes, I'll have to tell a hundred children that they're not getting gifts this year because Red Hood and friends kidnapped Santa Claus!"
He watched you storm off, an invisible force clenching his heart painfully. You've always had a short temper, he knew that, but not once had you directed your anger like that at him. He was now excruciatingly aware of how much he had messed up with you and wished he had just explained himself properly before, instead of blowing up at you.
As he changed into the Santa suit that a nun had kindly handed to him, he realized then that he had never even told you the truth.
He is an imbecile, indeed.
You stood off to the side, trying your best to keep the scowl off your face as children lined up to tell their wishes to Santa Claus. The Santa Claus in question was handsome as ever; he had foregone the fake belly but kept the beard. Why did you suddenly have the urge to cut in line and sit on his lap?
You cursed yourself for thinking that way about your ex, who looked quite attractive in that Santa suit (red really is his color). The only thing holding you back from acting on your thoughts was the presence of the nuns and children surrounding you and the humiliation you felt for snapping at Jason. Months of pent-up anger and hurt finally caught up to you when you saw Jason; your only wish was that you had handled it better.
Regardless of where you stood with Jason, you were glad he was putting smiles on children's faces. You had never seen him look so proud and satisfied when a child left with the biggest smile on their face. He really looked like he was enjoying himself, and you couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps already found someone new.
The mere thought of Jason moving on broke your heart. You found yourself slinking away to hide out in the makeshift kitchen, unable to bear looking at the love of your life anymore. Thankfully, none of the staff who assisted you in organizing the event was present, no doubt on their break after feeding all the children.
You didn't know how long you sat there, on the dirty kitchen floor. It could have been hours or mere minutes. The next time you looked up from your feet to check the time on the wall clock, your line of sight was obstructed by Santa Claus.
You sighed in defeat at the sight of Jason Todd, still in his Santa suit but without the white beard. The urge to run away and avoid the conversation you're about to have was strong, but you stayed. Your love for him was even stronger.
"Hey," he spoke first, having always been braver than you. "What are you doing on the floor?"
"It's comfortable," you shrugged. "You should join me."
Despite the skeptical look he sent you, he sat on the floor next to you.
It was quiet for a minute, then the muffled sound of children's laughter filled the air.
"You know I'd never cheat on you, right?" he asked.
"I know," you said solemnly. "I should have trusted you. I just..."
You sigh. "I never told you this, but looking back, I should have. I have always felt inadequate next to you."
It was the truth. Ever since you were both kids, you have always struggled to keep up with Jason. Just like his brother and predecessor, Jason had an innate talent for crime-fighting, while you and Babs had to work harder just to be acknowledged by Batman.
You always were jealous of him. When he died and came back, and you got into a relationship, you thought that it would be the end of your insecurities. But they didn't. Being with Jason only showed you how he could have someone better, and soon, you began to think he must have felt the same, when it was the opposite.
Jason scoffed, surprising you with his next words. "What? You don't think I've never thought the same? Never felt useless when Bruce paired us up when we were kids? Or that you could have found someone better than my pathetic self?"
"You're not pathetic, Jason."
"Then you're not inadequate either."
"Jason…"
"I still love you, alright?" He stopped you before you could say anything else. "And it's okay if you've moved on, I just wanted to let you know–"
You finally gave in to your urge to kiss the man you have fallen in love with, proving yourself to be only human. Your lips against his, you savoured the connection and hoped with all your heart it was not too late to salvage what you had with Jason. If it was, then you wished that the universe would at least give you the chance to start anew, for there was no one else in the world you would ever be with but Jason.
Faintly, you heard a gasp followed by a youthful voice. "Sister, I found Santa! He's kissing the kind lady!"
At that moment, you no longer cared about being caught kissing Santa Claus because nothing else seemed to matter; you had finally found a reason to celebrate the Christmas holidays again.
BONUS:
"Well, looks like Santa was naughty last night," an infuriating voice cackled the morning after your reconciliation with Jason. "And you must have been really extra good this year."
"Get out, Harper," you growled, not bothering to lift your head off your pillow which happened to Jason's naked chest. "Before I decide to deck your balls."
"You better listen to my girlfriend, Roy. Lian will never have a sibling again," chuckled Jason. "Not on her father's side, at least."
The red-haired archer grumbled, not doubting that you would follow through with your threat if he didn't leave in the next ten seconds. "I deserve a thank you, at least."
When he was met with silence, he sighed. "Fine, I'm leaving. By the way, the guy you hired is fine. Damian just paid him money not to show up at the Christmas party. He's in the Bahamas with his girlfriend now, I think."
hii i wanna ask if its possible you make a part 2 on behind the mask? like for example maybe how they relationship is going on or when bruce finds out??
Behind the Mask - Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Part 2/2
Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Fem!Reader Scarecrow x Batgirl!Reader
(Part 1)
Word Count: 8682
Warnings: fear toxin, Scarecrow x Batgirl
Summary: Imma cut to the chase (Requested) Their relationship is well, but Crane wants to be more open
A/N: Holy shit, did this take a while, my bad guys!! I had no intentions to write a part two, as I had nothing else to add to this fic, but I had many requests for a part two so...here we are, lol
I don't know how good this part is but it exists now, lol
Thank you so much for the people that liked this fic, I hope this wraps it up for yous, if not...my bad
let's go! 💚
-
The rhythmic tapping on Y/n's window had become a nightly occurrence for Y/n. She turned towards the source of the sound, her heart fluttering as she caught sight of Craw and Jonathan perched on the fire escape in front of her window.
Y/n hurried to unlatch the window, "You really ought to it open," Jonathan suggested, his voice carrying a playful edge as he flashed her a smirk.
Y/n chuckled softly, her eyes dancing with amusement. "And you really ought to use the door. This fire escape is shitty and old, it’s gonna break nay day now," she quipped back, her tone laced with affection as she pulled Jonathan inside with a tug.
Jonathan's grin widened, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "But it adds to the aesthetic," he countered.
Y/n couldn't suppress a fond roll of her eyes as she removed Jonathan's mask, her fingers lingering on his cheek for a moment before she leaned in to capture his lips in a stolen kiss.
The moment stretched and Jonathan lips curved into a smile. As they parted, Y/n's gaze softened, her heart skipping a beat as she watched Jonathan's smile linger.
Pulling away, Y/n made her way to her desk, her movements graceful and deliberate as she grabbed a bag of seeds she had stashed away. Sprinkling them onto the surface, she watched with delight as Craw flew from Jonathan's shoulder, his wings fluttering with excitement.
Settling onto her bed, Jonathan followed suit. Laying back on the bed, Jonathan shifted his gaze to Y/n. "So, when do you plan on letting your high-flying friend know about us?" he asked.
Y/n's eyes widened in alarm, her head snapping towards him with a swift motion. "You wanna die?" she retorted.
A chuckle escaped Jonathan's lips, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, so you're resorting to threats now?" he teased, a playful grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Y/n couldn't help but shove his arm in response, her touch carrying a playful edge. "You know what I mean," she countered, her tone softening with affection as she met his gaze
"Better you tell him than him finding out," Jonathan said.
Y/n's expression grew tense, her worry palpable. "Yes, but telling him means exposing you to potential danger. Who knows what he might do?" she fretted, her voice filled with concern.
Jonathan's confidence remained unwavering. "As you’ve mentioned before. It would be hypocritical for him to act out," he reasoned.
Y/n shook her head. "But we're dealing with two vastly different scenarios here. Catwoman is a petty thief, and that’s very different from your... eccentricities. You're a werido doctor, doing experiments with questionable drugs that induce terrifying hallucinations and, sometimes, even casualties," she countered, her words laden with unease.
Jonathan turned his gaze to the ceiling, deep in thought. "Hmm," he mused softly.
Y/n sighed, shifting her focus upward as well. "Besides," she continued, "it could complicate things even more, considering you don’t know his identity."
"And I’m guessing you prefer it that way," Jonathan replied.
Y/n gave him a playful pout, but before she could respond, her phone rang, cutting through the tension. With a reluctant groan, she pushed herself up and grabbed her phone from the nightstand. Seeing Bruce's name on the screen, she took a deep breath and answered.
"Hey, Bruce! What's up?" she greeted, her tone deliberately light and casual to indicate that now wasn’t the best time for a serious conversation.
"Just calling to check on you," Bruce replied, his voice calm and understanding.
"I'm good, thanks. I just have someone over right now," Y/n said, glancing at Jonathan, who was watching her intently.
"Oh, is it who I think it is?" Bruce asked, a hint of teasing in his tone.
Y/n couldn't help but roll her eyes. "Yes, it is," she admitted.
"When do I get to meet this mysterious person?" Bruce asked, the question laden with unintentional irony.
The complexity of the situation weighed on Y/n as she considered her response. "Not sure," she replied, her voice careful and measured.
"I hope you won’t keep me waiting too long," Bruce said, his tone both playful and serious.
Y/n sighed inwardly, recognizing the tangled web of secrets and identities she was caught in. "I'll see what I can do," she replied, striving to keep the conversation light despite the underlying tension.
As she ended the call, Y/n looked back at Jonathan, who raised an eyebrow inquisitively. She could sense the unspoken questions between them, the delicate balance they maintained teetering on the edge of discovery and secrecy.
As Y/n put down her phone, she could feel Jonathan's eyes on her, a mixture of curiosity and concern etched across his features. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the inevitable questions.
"So, that was Bruce Wayne?" Jonathan asked.
"Yeah," Y/n admitted, sinking back onto the bed beside him. "He just wanted to check in."
Jonathan smirked, a knowing glint in his eye. "And he wants to meet me, does he?"
Y/n sighed, rubbing her temples. "You know it's not that simple. He’s... protective, and if he found out about your... nightly activities, it could get messy."
Jonathan chuckled, a dark, velvety sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Messy, indeed. But you've got to admit, there's a certain thrill in walking such a fine line. Besides, he wouldn’t be as bad as your other friend."
Y/n frowned, her worry deepening. "This isn't a game, Jonathan. Bruce isn’t someone you want as an enemy. He’s...persistent. And don’t get me started on Batman"
Jonathan reached out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You just want to keep me safe…you’re not embarrassed of me."
Y/n was well aware of these underlying insecurities of Jonathan’s, they were hard to miss. And keeping him as a locked up secret didn’t help.
She nodded, the weight of her dual life pressing down on her shoulders. "Exactly. I don’t you getting hurt."
Jonathan's expression softened slightly, a rare vulnerability peeking through. "I’ll be careful, Y/n. For you."
She met his gaze, searching for sincerity in his dark eyes. "I hope so. Because if Bruce ever found out who you really are... I'm not sure what he’d do."
Jonathan leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. "Then we’ll just have to make sure he never does."
Y/n closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, her mind swirling with worry and affection. She knew the road ahead was fraught with danger and deceit, but for now, in this moment, she found solace in Jonathan’s presence.
Breaking the silence, she murmured, "We need to be smart about this. No more unnecessary risks."
Jonathan nodded, his voice a low whisper. "Aside from my obvious alter ego issues, what about me would put him off so much?" he asked curiously.
"Well, for starters, you're technically my superior at work, which complicates things," Y/n began. "And let's not forget, you're literally his age, which doesn't exactly help our case. So, we’re already off to a rocky start."
Jonathan sighed, acknowledging her points. "Yes, you make a fair point," he conceded.
"Will you stay the night?" Y/n asked, her voice soft and hopeful.
Jonathan considered her for a moment before a slow smile spread across his face. "I don't see why not," he replied, his tone warm and reassuring.
Y/n felt a wave of relief wash over her as Jonathan settled more comfortably on the bed beside her. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft, silvery glow over the room. She reached out, her fingers lightly tracing the contours of his face, memorizing every detail.
"You know," she began, her voice barely above a whisper, "despite everything, I do feel safe with you."
Jonathan's expression softened, and he took her hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to her palm. "And I with you," he murmured.
They lay there in silence for a while, wrapped in each other's presence, the world outside their little bubble momentarily forgotten. The unspoken promise of mutual protection and understanding hung in the air, a fragile but resilient bond between them.
-
Waking up was easier than usual, especially with the enticing aroma of breakfast wafting through the air. Y/n stretched and climbed out of bed. Craw was perched on the desk, still asleep. Below the bird lay Jonathan's mask, resting limply on the surface. Y/n followed the delicious scent to the kitchen and there, she found Jonathan at the stove, and she felt a surge of gratitude that he hadn't left as she had half-expected.
"Morning," Y/n greeted, a smile spreading across her face.
"Good morning," Jonathan replied, turning to plate some food for the two of them.
He set the two plates on the small dining table, and they both took a seat. "Thank you," Y/n said softly, leaning over to kiss his cheek.
As they began to eat, Craw flew in from her room, landing on the table in front of them. Y/n broke off a piece of her breakfast and offered it to Craw, who eagerly accepted the treat.
"You don't have work?" Y/n asked between bites.
"I do, but I have some time," Jonathan responded, a small smile playing on his lips.
They ate in comfortable silence, the morning light filtering through the windows casting a warm glow over the scene.
"You know," she said, her tone playful, "you’re going to spoil me if you keep making breakfast like this."
Jonathan chuckled, stacking the plates. "Then I guess I'll have to make it a habit."
Finishing her last bite, Y/n leaned back in her chair, her eyes studying Jonathan. "I could get used to this," she admitted softly.
Jonathan looked up from his plate, his gaze meeting hers with a tenderness that was rare for him. "So could I," he replied.
Y/n squeezed his hand, feeling a swell of emotion.
Jonathan looked at his watch. "I should probably get ready for work."
Reluctantly, Y/n released his hand, watching as he stood up and began clearing the table. As he carried the dishes to the sink, Y/n stood and followed him, wrapping her arms around his waist from behind.
They stood like that for a moment, savoring the closeness before Jonathan gently turned in her embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Y/n giggled and released him from her hold, “I’ll do the dishes.” she siad.
Jonathan walked off to her bedroom. As Y/n cleaned the dishes, she heard his voice call out. "Do you know where my mask is?"
"It should be on the desk. I saw it before," Y/n replied, rinsing a plate.
"Craw must have moved it," Jonathan said, a hint of frustration in his voice.
"Do you really need it today?" Y/n asked, pausing her task.
The question, though simple, carried significant weight. She didn’t want him to wear his Scarecrow mask, knowing it would mean he was engaging in dangerous activities that could put him at risk with Batman.
Jonathan appeared in the doorway, contemplating her words. "I suppose not," he said, moving toward her with a softened expression. "I'll see you tonight?" he asked, his voice hopeful.
"Of course," Y/n replied, looking up at him with a reassuring smile.
With a final kiss, Jonathan headed towards the door, grabbing his coat. "Stay safe," he said, a note of concern in his voice.
"You too," Y/n responded, watching as he left, the door clicking softly behind him.
Once he was gone, Y/n turned her attention back to Craw, who was still perched on the table. "You not following him?" she asked, offering the bird another morsel of food.
Craw pecked at the treat, his feathers ruffling contentedly. “Guess you’re with me then.” Y/n couldn't help but smile.
After finishing the dishes, Y/n dried her hands and made her way to the bedroom, her thoughts already shifting to the upcoming visit to the Batcave.Bruce had called her last night, and she assumed he'd want to see her today. She knew she needed to be prepared for whatever Bruce had in store for her. He was always easy on her, but sometimes, he was a lot to deal with.
Entering the bedroom, she moved to her closet and grabbed clothes to change into. She laid them out on the bed and then headed to the bathroom.
-
It was easy enough to get to Wayne Manor, where she was greeted at the door by Alfred. “Good morning, Miss L/n,” Alfred said with a warm smile.
“Morning, Alfred,” Y/n replied, returning his smile as she stepped into the grand foyer.
“Is Bruce home?” Y/n asked.
“He left just over an hour ago. He should be back soon. I’m sure he was expecting you. Would you like something to drink while you wait?” Alfred offered.
“That would be nice, thank you. Does Bruce have any fizzy drinks, or does he only stock protein shakes and expensive booze?” Y/n joked.
“Master Wayne does have a rather... focused selection, but I assure you, Miss L/n, we do keep a few civilised options for guests. Perhaps a sparkling water with a twist of lemon?”
Y/n chuckled softly. "Sounds good to me. I'll be down in the Batcave," she said.
Making her way down through the hidden bookshelf entrance, Y/n wasn’t too sure what she was gonna do. There were no immediate threats she was aware of, and Bruce hadn’t assigned her any specific research tasks, so she decided to indulge in a bit of fun.
She settled into the chair at the Batcomputer and typed in "Scarecrow," smirking as she did. She wanted to see what Bruce had on him and if there were any scandals she could teasingly bring up to Jonathan tonight.
As large images of Scarecrow filled the screen, Y/n smiled, engrossed in the data. She barely noticed Alfred entering the cave.
“With that smile on your face, I would have assumed you were looking at your boyfriend,” Alfred’s witty remark echoed through the cavernous space.
“Oh, but we would make such a cute couple,” Y/n joked back, grinning at Alfred.
"From what I’ve heard from Master Wayne, I’m surprised you’re not already,” Alfred said, setting down a tray with sparkling water beside her.
Y/n laughed. "Because Bruce would totally approve of him!"
“With the cat he’s running around with, he ought to be more lenient,” Alfred quipped.
"See, that's why you're my favorite butler," Y/n smiled, leaning back in the chair.
“That would imply you know other butlers,” Alfred replied with a raised eyebrow.
“Well, you’re my one and only,” Y/n said with a grin.
Just then, a notification popped up on the Batcomputer, indicating a presence at the front door. Clicking onto the camera feed, Y/n saw Bruce arriving.
“I suppose I should answer that,” Alfred said, turning to head upstairs to greet Bruce.
While waiting in the Batcave, Y/n watched as Bruce entered. “Morning, Bruce,” she greeted him.
“It’s 2 PM,” Bruce corrected, glancing at the Batcomputer's clock.
Y/n snorted, checking the time herself. "So it is."
"You called me yesterday?" she asked, turning back to him.
“I was calling to tell you there was a Scarecrow sighting last night. Thought you might be interested,” Bruce informed her.
“Really? Damn,” Y/n said, surprised.
“Too bad you were busy with your friend,” Bruce teased, a knowing smirk playing on his lips.
Y/n rolled her eyes, shaking her head with a grin. "You just love to rub it in, don’t you?"
"I don’t know why I don’t get to meet him," Bruce said, crossing his arms, his tone somewhere between curious and irritated.
"Because you’d be weird about it," Y/n shot back, raising an eyebrow.
Bruce narrowed his eyes slightly. "Weird? I’m not weird. I just want to know who’s been spending so much time with you. Making sure he’s...trustworthy."
Y/n rolled her eyes, a smirk tugging at her lips. "Exactly. That's what I mean by weird. You’d give him the whole ‘protective’ speech, probably stalked him. Plus, you two aren't exactly the same type of...career men."
Bruce huffed, clearly unconvinced. "It’s my job to stalk."
“And you'd probably scare him off," Y/n added, shaking her head with amusement. "You’d interrogate him like he’s some criminal mastermind."
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "And is he?"
Y/n hesitated for a split second before shrugging, her grin widening. "Wouldn’t you like to know?"
Bruce’s expression softened, though his curiosity remained. "I just don’t want you getting hurt. That's all."
Y/n smiled at the sincerity behind his words. "I know, Bruce. But trust me, I’ve got this."
Bruce eyed her for a moment longer, his sharp gaze searching her face for any cracks in her confidence. When he didn’t find any, he finally sighed, his arms dropping to his sides. "Alright, I’ll back off…for now."
Y/n chuckled softly, pushing herself off the Batcomputer and stretching her arms above her head. "Appreciated. Besides, I think he'd be more scared of you than you’d be of him."
Bruce smirked, clearly amused by the idea. "If he's smart, he should be."
Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, but before she could respond, the Batcomputer beeped to life, pulling both their attention to the screen. The glowing red alert flashed in sync with a detailed map of Gotham’s city grid.
"What now?" Y/n muttered, leaning closer to get a better look.
Bruce’s expression instantly hardened, the switch from casual conversation to business happening within seconds. His fingers flew across the keyboard, pulling up more data.
"Another Scarecrow sighting," he said, voice low and focused. The map zoomed in on a section of the Narrows, where several alarms had been triggered in what looked like an abandoned factory. "This could be serious."
Y/n's stomach flipped at the mention, her mind immediately jumping to Jonathan. She tried to keep her cool, but the worry crept in before she could stop it. "You're sure it’s him?" she asked, her voice steady despite the growing unease.
Bruce glanced at her, noting the change in her tone, but didn't comment. "The chemicals found at the scene match his previous attacks. It's a safe assumption."
Y/n swallowed hard, her thoughts racing. Jonathan had said he wasn’t planning anything for today...but if this sighting was real, she had no idea what he was up to.
"I’ll handle this," Bruce said, grabbing his cowl from the side. "You stay here. I don’t want you getting mixed up in it."
Y/n clenched her fists, forcing herself to keep her expression neutral. "I can help, Bruce."
"Not this time," he said firmly, already moving toward the Batmobile.
Y/n hesitated, torn between her loyalty to Bruce and her concern for Jonathan. "Just...be careful, okay?" she called after him.
Bruce paused at the Batmobile’s door, glancing back at her. "Always," he said, slipping into the driver’s seat and speeding off into the cave’s tunnel.
As the roar of the Batmobile faded, Y/n stood there for a moment, her mind swirling with what to do next. She could wait for Bruce to handle it like he always did...or she could find out for herself what Jonathan was really up to.
Taking a deep breath, Y/n made up her mind. She wasn’t going to sit on the sidelines this time.
Y/n snatched her phone off the desk, her heart pounding in her chest. Her hands shook slightly as she scrolled to Jonathan's contact and hit call. She wasn’t even sure why she was so furious, after all, she hadn’t explicitly told him to quit his villainous habits, but she thought he’d at least try. That hope had been dashed with Bruce’s news.
The phone rang once, twice, three times. She didn’t expect him to pick up. In fact, she was already mentally preparing for the voicemail beep. But then, to her surprise, his calm voice came through the line.
"Hello?"
Y/n blinked, caught off guard. "What the fuck are you doing?"
There was a pause, followed by a confused, “What?"
"Don't ‘what’ me, Jonathan," Y/n snapped, pacing now. "Bruce just told me there’s a Scarecrow sighting in the Narrows. Your gas was spotted. What the fuck, Jonathan?!"
Jonathan let out an exasperated sigh. “...I’m at work. Like, real work. At Arkham.”
Y/n stopped pacing, furrowing her brow. "You’re...at Arkham?" She was still furious, but confusion was starting to take over. "But your gas-"
"Is in the Narrows, yeah, I know…" he cut her off, his tone darkening. "It’s Poison Ivy."
"Poison Ivy?" Y/n repeated, the confusion on her face deepening.
"Yeah, we made a deal a while back," Jonathan admitted, sounding less than pleased. "I gave her some of my chemical mixes in exchange for some of her plant matter. She must be using it now."
Y/n ran a hand through her hair, feeling a mix of frustration and relief. "So you're not...?" She trailed off, not quite knowing how to finish that sentence. She had been ready to go off on him, but now…
"No, I’m not running around the Narrows today," Jonathan muttered, clearly irritated by the whole situation. "And you think I’d be that sloppy if I were?"
Y/n exhaled sharply, rubbing her temple. "God, Jonathan, you could’ve warned me about the deal."
"I didn’t think she'd use it, honestly," he replied, his voice edged with frustration. "She’s impulsive when it comes to her little vendettas."
Y/n felt the anger fading, though she was still annoyed. "You’re lucky Bruce doesn’t know it’s Ivy yet."
Jonathan snorted. "Well, let’s keep it that way, shall we?"
"Yeah," she muttered. There was a beat of silence on the line before she sighed. "You better not be lying."
“I’m not," Jonathan replied, his voice softening a little. "Look, I know what you’re thinking, and I’m trying, Y/n. I really am."
She bit her lip, feeling a mixture of emotions. "Okay. Just...don’t make me regret trusting you."
“I won’t,” he said, and the sincerity in his voice made her chest tighten.
Y/n nodded to herself, even though he couldn’t see it. “Fine. I’ll deal with Bruce. You deal with Ivy.”
“Easier said than done,” Jonathan muttered.
She huffed. "Tell me about it."
After hanging up, Y/n tossed her phone onto the Batcomputer desk, running a hand through her hair. She took a deep breath, trying to shake off the frustration still simmering beneath the surface. It was hard to stay mad at Jonathan when it turned out he wasn’t the one running around as Scarecrow today. But it didn’t make things any easier. But if Bruce found out Ivy was using his gas, it might blow some smoke off of Jonathan.
Y/n sank into the chair in front of the Batcomputer, her fingers drumming anxiously against the desk. Bruce had already left for the Narrows, but now she had new information, information that possibly helped the situation.
She reached for her phone and quickly dialed Bruce’s number. It didn’t take long for him to pick up.
“What is it?” Bruce’s gruff voice came through the line, filled with urgency.
Y/n exhaled sharply. “I know it’s Ivy.”
There was a pause on the other end before Bruce spoke again. “And how did you get this infomation?”
Y/n hesitated, her mind flashing back to her not-so-distant past. “Let’s just say Scarecrow gave me some insight.” Her tone was sharp and cautious.
There was another brief silence. Then Bruce’s voice, lower and more guarded, came back. “When?”
“When he reversed his drug effects on me. I found out some things during that lovely little vacation, like how he and Ivy have this deal. Something about trading toxins, he gave her some of his gas formulas.”
“Why didn’t you tell me this before?” Bruce’s question wasn’t accusing, but the tension in his voice made it clear he wasn’t pleased.
“I didn’t think it would come up again,” Y/n said defensively, her fingers tightening around the phone. She hated lying to Bruce. “And…well, I didn’t exactly want to give you more reasons to go after Scarecrow. He did save me..”
Bruce’s sigh echoed through the phone. “You know this makes things more complicated.”
“I know,” Y/n muttered. “But Scarecrow wasn’t lying. He didn’t know Ivy was planning to use it, and now that she is, we’ve got a mess on our hands.”
There was the sound of movement on Bruce’s end, probably him moving through the dark streets of Gotham. “Stay on the Batcomputer. I’m close to the Narrows, but I need more intel on Ivy’s last known location. And we need to talk when I get back.”
“Got it,” Y/n responded, already pulling up files and maps, scanning through recent surveillance. “But Bruce…be careful. Ivy’s unpredictable, especially when she’s got a new toy.”
Bruce didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, his voice was firm. “I know.”
Y/n stayed glued to the screen, her heart pounding in her chest as she monitored Bruce’s position and scoured the data for any trace of Ivy. It was hard not to think about the delicate line she was walking, caught between the man she loved like a father figure and the villain who had once been her captor.
As the Batcomputer beeped with a new set of coordinates, Y/n’s eyes widened. “Bruce, I’ve got her. She’s holed up in one of the old greenhouses just north of the Narrows.”
“Send me the location,” Bruce replied, his tone all business.
Y/n tapped furiously on the keyboard, sending the details to his encrypted communicator. “I’ll come,”
“I don’t need backup,” Bruce replied.
Y/n smirked despite the tension. “Of course you don’t. Just be safe.”
The line went dead, and Y/n clenched her jaw, staring at the Batcomputer. She knew Bruce’s directive was clear, stay out of it. But sitting back and waiting wasn’t her style. Bruce wasn’t immune to Jonathan’s gas like she was, he was vulnerable, and knowing Ivy, she would have made the toxin much worse.
No. She wasn’t just going to sit there.
Without another thought, Y/n pushed back from the desk and made her way to the suit vault. She quickly donned her Batgirl outfit, every movement precise and practiced. The familiar weight of the cowl settled on her head, the cape brushing against her shoulders. A sense of purpose surged through her veins.
Screw Bruce’s order. She wasn’t letting him face this alone.
In record time, Y/n made her way to the Batmotorcycle. The engine roared to life beneath her, the vibrations tingling through her fingers as she gripped the handlebars. The chill Gotham air hit her full force as she sped out of the Batcave and onto the streets.
Her heart raced, not just from the speed but from the anticipation. Ivy was unpredictable, and if she was mixing her plants with Scarecrow’s fear toxins, there was no telling how bad this could get. Bruce might be Batman, but even he couldn’t always do it alone. Not this time.
As the city blurred past her, Y/n’s mind focused on the coordinates she had sent Bruce earlier, the greenhouse north of the Narrows. If Ivy had set up there, then whatever she had planned would likely already be in motion.
She tightened her grip and accelerated. She wasn’t just backup. She was part of the team, and Bruce would have to deal with that when she got there.
Y/n weaved through the dark streets of Gotham, the distant sound of sirens blending into the night as her Batcycle roared toward the Narrows. The coordinates she had sent Bruce earlier were burned into her memory, guiding her through the labyrinth of alleys and side streets with pinpoint accuracy. The further she rode, the denser the buildings became, their looming shadows creating an eerie silence over the area.
When she finally reached the edge of the Narrows, the glowing greenhouse structure came into view. It was tucked behind a row of dilapidated buildings, just as she had suspected. Ivy was hiding in plain sight, and her mix of flora and Scarecrow’s fear toxins would be deadly if released.
Y/n slowed her bike as she approached, parking it behind a crumbling wall to keep it hidden. She surveyed the scene from a distance, her breath steady as she slipped off her helmet and carefully crouched down to get a better view.
A thin, green mist hung in the air, barely noticeable, but enough to set off alarms in her mind. The plants surrounding the greenhouse seemed to writhe unnaturally, their movements synchronized, as if they were waiting for Ivy’s command. Y/n gritted her teeth. She had to get in there before this escalated any further.
Suddenly, the low hum of a Batmobile engine caught her attention. Bruce was already here. She had no idea if he had spotted her yet, but there wasn’t time to worry about that now. She tapped into her comms.
“I’m here,” Y/n whispered into her earpiece, watching the shadows of the greenhouse. “Tell me you have a plan.”
A short pause followed before Bruce’s voice crackled through. “You weren’t supposed to come, Y/n.”
“I’m aware,” she shot back quietly. “But you’ll thank me later. What’s the move?”
Another brief silence before Bruce responded, his tone edged with reluctant acceptance. “Ivy’s inside. She’s preparing to release the toxins. I need you to disable the generators behind the greenhouse. If we cut the power, we’ll stop the spread before it gets worse.”
Y/n nodded to herself, scanning the area for an entry point. “Got it. I’m on it.”
Sticking to the shadows, she slipped around the greenhouse, staying low and silent. The air smelled heavy, rich with the scent of damp earth and something sickly sweet—probably the beginning traces of Ivy’s toxin. She had to move fast.
Reaching the back of the greenhouse, Y/n spotted the generators Bruce had mentioned. Thick vines coiled around them, pulsing faintly as if feeding off the energy. She pulled out a pair of batarangs, slicing through the foliage with careful precision.
Just as she was about to sever the last vine, a voice rang out behind her, smooth and melodic. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, darling.”
Y/n froze, her blood running cold. She turned slowly, and there stood Poison Ivy, her red hair gleaming under the moonlight, eyes glowing with a dangerous, otherworldly hue. She smiled, a slow, wicked smile.
“Wondering if you were gonna show up,” Ivy purred, taking a step forward.
Y/n tightened her grip on the batarangs, her heart pounding but her face steady. “What’s your deal here, Ivy? This isn’t your usual style.”
Ivy’s smile widened, her fingers trailing through the air as the plants around them quivered in response. “Oh, you’d be surprised. Gotham needs cleansing. And with a little help from Scarecrow’s toxins, I’ll make sure it happens.”
Before Y/n could react, the vines whipped out, wrapping around her wrist and pulling her off balance. She stumbled, but quickly regained her footing, yanking her arm free with a sharp tug. Ivy laughed softly, the sound echoing through the garden.
But Y/n wasn’t backing down. "You’re not cleansing anything..”
With a quick movement, she hurled the batarangs at the remaining vines, slicing through them cleanly. The generators sputtered, their lights flickering before the power shut off completely. The greenhouse dimmed as the machinery inside ground to a halt.
Ivy’s smile vanished, replaced with a cold, calculating glare. She growled, raising her hands as the plants around them surged to life.
Just as the vines began to close in, Y/n heard a low groan from across the greenhouse. Her eyes darted to the source, and her heart dropped. There, amidst the writhing green tendrils, Batman was bound, arms and legs ensnared by thick vines, his body slumped against them. His cape was torn, his breathing labored, and his face was pale. Ivy had already hit him with a dose of her toxin, enough to weaken even Batman.
Ivy’s laughter echoed through the greenhouse as she stepped into view, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Oh, look at him,” she cooed mockingly. “The mighty Dark Knight, felled by a little plant. Isn’t he beautiful when he’s helpless?”
Y/n’s blood boiled, but she kept her face neutral, watching every move Ivy made. Her heart raced. She had to free Bruce before it was too late. But Ivy wasn’t finished yet.
“You think you’re clever, don’t you, little Bat?” Ivy sneered, her gaze now fixed on Y/n. “Disabling my power? Stopping my plan?” She stepped forward, cradling a vial of her signature toxin, swirling with an ominous green mist. “Well, let's see how clever you are after a dose of this.”
Before Y/n could react, Ivy flung the vial at her feet, shattering it with a sharp crack. The toxic gas billowed out, curling around Y/n in a cloud of green haze. Ivy grinned wickedly, certain she had won.
But something was wrong. Y/n stood there, her expression unchanging as the gas swirled around her. No coughing, no dizziness, nothing. Ivy’s smile faltered.
Y/n scoffed. “That’s not going to work on me, Ivy.”
Ivy blinked in disbelief. “What…?” she breathed, watching in shock as Y/n stepped forward, completely unaffected by the gas that should’ve incapacitated her.
“You can thank Scarecrow for that,” Y/n said, her voice edged with confidence.
Ivy’s face twisted in fury. “That traitor,” she spat, raising her hands to command the vines. But Y/n was faster.
With a quick flick of her wrist, Y/n hurled a batarang through the air, slicing cleanly through the vines that held Bruce captive. He slumped to the ground with a grunt, but he was free.
“Get her!” Ivy screamed, and the plants surged toward Y/n, but she was ready. She dodged and weaved between the tendrils, her agility unmatched as she closed the distance between her and Ivy.
Before Ivy could react, Y/n landed a solid punch to her gut, knocking the wind out of her. The plants faltered, their connection to Ivy weakening as she stumbled back.
Y/n's grip tightened on Ivy's collar, her breath heavy with adrenaline. "Give it up, Ivy," she hissed. But Ivy’s smirk only widened, eyes glinting with malicious intent.
"You really think you can threaten me?" Ivy scoffed, and with a wave of her hand, the vines surged to life once more. This time, Y/n wasn’t fast enough. Thick, thorny tendrils wrapped around her wrists and ankles, yanking her off her feet and slamming her into the ground.
She winced, pain shooting through her body as she struggled against the vines. Ivy stood over her, victorious, her emerald eyes glowing with satisfaction.
"Poor little Bat," Ivy sneered, crouching down to Y/n’s level. "You really thought you could take me on your own? Without your precious Batman to save you?"
Y/n gritted her teeth, yanking at the vines, but it was no use. They only tightened around her limbs, cutting into her skin. She was stuck, helpless as Ivy reached for another vial of her toxin, twirling it between her fingers.
"This will be much more fun," Ivy purred.
Y/n's heart raced. She had never been this close to defeat. Her mind raced for a way out, but the vines held her too tight. Batman was still too out of it to help.
Just as Ivy raised the vial to unleash its deadly contents, the sound of footsteps echoed through the greenhouse.
Ivy froze, turning her head slightly. Before she could react, a cloud of smoke enveloped her. Y/n’s eyes widened as Ivy gasped, although it had no effect on the pair, it still clouded the room in a thick smog.
Out of the smoke stepped the Scarecrow, his form looming ominously. "Ivy," he drawled, his voice distorted and menacing, "did you forget our little agreement? No playing with my things."
Ivy’s expression morphed from anger to confusion as she saw Jonathan approaching. The smoke began to clear, and she got a better view, but before she could fully process the situation, a dark figure emerged from the shadows behind her.
Batman, clad in his black armor, lunged forward with a swift precision that took Ivy by surprise. He had been lurking just out of sight, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. With a powerful sweep, he knocked Ivy off her feet, sending her crashing to the ground.
Ivy glared up at him, her confusion shifting back to fury as she scrambled to regain her footing. But she was no match for Batman’s physical strength. Jonathan must have injected him with an antidote before he entered, and now Bruce was fully alert, his abilities restored.
Bruce moved with lethal efficiency, closing the distance between him and Ivy in a heartbeat. With a single, powerful punch, he connected with her jaw, sending her sprawling to the ground. The force of the blow left Ivy dazed, and she struggled to regain her bearings.
Without missing a beat, Batman swiftly produced a set of restraints from his utility belt. He moved in to secure Ivy, tying her up with expert precision before she could fully recover. Ivy glared up at him as he tightened the knot, her defiance still flickering in her eyes, but she was completely at his mercy now.
Scarecrow strode over to Y/n, his sharp gaze locked onto hers as he effortlessly sliced through the vines with a concealed blade, freeing her from Ivy’s grasp. He crouched beside her, his face mere inches from hers.
"You really shouldn’t be here," he said softly, almost teasingly, though there was an underlying concern in his tone. "You promised me you’d stay out of trouble."
Y/n panted, still reeling from the fight. "Yeah, well...so did you," she muttered, rubbing her sore wrists.
Jonathan stood, offering her a hand. She hesitated for only a second before taking it, allowing him to help her to her feet.
"I thought you weren’t the rescuing type," Y/n quipped, her voice shaky but defiant.
Jonathan tilted his head, his mask concealing his expression, though she could almost feel the smirk behind it. "I’m not. But it seems you’re always the exception."
Before Y/n could respond, a deep voice suddenly broke through the tension of the moment. “Am I interrupting something?”
Y/n turned to see Bruce emerging from the shadows, his imposing figure silhouetted against the dim light of the greenhouse. She felt a rush of relief mixed with anxiety as he approached, his gaze scanning the chaotic scene.
“Uhh,” Y/n barely replied.
“Scarecrow.” Batman began to step closer, his cape billowing slightly with the movement, but Y/n quickly stepped forward, shielding Jonathan from Bruce’s intense scrutiny.
“Wait! Batman, he helped us...” Y/n said, casting a fleeting glance at Jonathan, who stood beside her, calm and composed amidst the chaos. “He came just in time.”
Batman’s expression remained unyielding, a hardened mask that betrayed nothing but the weight of his concern. Frustration flickered across his features as he assessed the aftermath of the battle. “You should never have come. I told you to stay put.”
Y/n felt her heart race at his reprimand, but she couldn’t let it go unchallenged. “I know, and I’m sorry, but we did it!”
Bruce's gaze shifted back to Jonathan, his voice low and demanding. “Care to explain the guest?”
Y/n struggled to articulate the whirlwind of events that had led to this moment, especially with Ivy still unconscious on the floor. “Can we talk about this later?” she said, urgency creeping into her voice.
“Not if you want him out of Arkham,” Batman replied, his tone brokering no argument.
Y/n let out a dry chuckle, the tension almost absurd. “Haha, funny you say that…”
Before she could gather her thoughts, Jonathan stepped forward, his demeanor unexpectedly calm and measured. “I am more than willing to discuss this with you elsewhere,” he said, his voice smooth yet authoritative.
This candid offer took Y/n by surprise, she hadn’t expected him to be so amenable, especially given the circumstances. Her eyes darted between Jonathan and Batman, searching for signs of tension or underlying animosity. “Scarecrow, are you sure?” she asked, hesitating as the implications of his statement settled in.
“I don’t want to cause more trouble than necessary,” he replied, his mask obscuring any deeper emotion. “But I think it’s vital we have a proper conversation about what happened tonight.”
Batman narrowed his eyes, still assessing Jonathan with a blend of skepticism and wariness. “I’m not so sure I can trust you just yet,” he said, his voice steady. “Your methods are... unconventional.”
“True, but tonight, I acted in your favor,” Jonathan replied, meeting Bruce's gaze with unwavering confidence. “Besides, you don’t want to waste this opportunity to learn more about Ivy’s plans and the potential threat they pose.”
Y/n felt the weight of the moment. She knew that trusting Jonathan came with risks, but he had also proven himself when it mattered most. “Batman, he’s right,” she added, hoping to bridge the gap.
Batman considered her words, the tension in the air palpable. Finally, he nodded slowly, the hardened expression softening ever so slightly. “Fine,” he said. “But this is not a free pass, Scarecrow. I’ll be watching you closely.”
Jonathan inclined his head. “Understood. Shall we?” He replied, his tone light, but there was an unmistakable edge to his words.
Just then, the wailing of sirens echoed through the night, cutting through the remnants of chaos like a knife. The sound sent a jolt through Y/n. “We need to move,” she urged, glancing back toward the entrance of the greenhouse where Ivy lay incapacitated.
Without waiting for a response, the three of them rushed out of the building, the scent of damp earth and foliage mingling with the sharp tang of adrenaline in the air. They quickly scanned their surroundings, seeking a more suitable location to discuss their precarious situation.
Batman moved toward a nearby alley, the shadows deep and inviting. They ducked into the narrow passage, the sound of the sirens fading into the distance as they found a moment of respite.
Y/n leaned against the cold brick wall, her heart still racing from the encounter. “We can’t stay here for long,” she said, glancing at both men.
“Agreed,” Batman said, his voice steady as he took a position near the entrance of the alley, keeping a watchful eye on the street. “But I’m more focused on the criminal in front of me right now.”
Y/n glanced at Jonathan, who remained calm and collected, his mask shadowing his expression. “I did my best” she began, her voice steadying as she recounted the events leading up to Ivy’s defeat. “I tried to stop her, but she caught me in the process. He showed up just in time to help.”
“How did he even know what was going on?” Batman asked, standing tall and imposing as he glared at Jonathan.
“Let’s not forget that I saved your life. If it weren’t for my anti-toxin, you’d still be on the floor,” Scarecrow retorted, his voice laced with a mix of arrogance and confidence.
Y/n forced a chuckle, though there was no humor in it. The tension was palpable as she glanced at Batman’s sharp eyes, her heart racing. “I-I told him…”
“And why did he come?” Batman demanded, his gaze unwavering, dissecting every nuance of Jonathan’s expression.
“I had my reasons,” Jonathan replied, his tone turning serious.
“And it’s those reasons I’d like to understand,” Batman pressed, his voice low and commanding.
Y/n sighed, feeling the weight of the situation settle in her chest. “He came for me, Batman. You already know that.”
“But I want to hear it from him,” Batman insisted, not breaking eye contact.
Jonathan remained unfazed. “I came because she called for me. She thought it was my attack downtown, and I knew she would rush to confront it. I didn’t want her getting hurt. She’s good at what she does, but she doesn’t always think.”
“Hey!” Y/n shot back, embarrassment coloring her cheeks.
“And you knew I’d be there,” Batman interjected, his tone incredulous.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t you be?” Jonathan replied smoothly. “It was you who took my mask that day, wasn’t it?”
Batman reached behind him and pulled out a piece of fabric, the unmistakable outline of Jonathan’s mask. “I’ve known for a while,” he admitted, his voice steady.
Y/n’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you fucking kidding me? And you said nothing?”
“I was waiting for you to tell me,” Batman responded, his tone unyielding.
Y/n crossed her arms, muttering under her breath, “So not cool.”
Jonathan smirked under his mask, eyeing Batman. “So, what are you going to do to me, Batman? Lock me up?”
Batman tossed the mask toward Jonathan with a swift motion. “Not tonight, Crane.”
Jonathan caught the mask effortlessly and tucked it into his pocket, a glimmer of triumph in his eyes. Batman continued, his voice low and steady, “I’m guessing you know who I am as well?”
“I have an idea…” Jonathan replied.
The tension between Batman and Jonathan hung thick in the air, both men staring each other down in a silent standoff. Y/n felt the weight of their gaze as she stood between them, unsure of what to say next.
Y/n shifted nervously between the two, rocking back and forth on her heels. “Well…” she started, trying to defuse the tension in the air.
Before she could say anymore, Batman’s voice broke the silence. “This doesn’t mean you’re off the hook, Crane. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”
Jonathan chuckled, the sound low and unsettling. “Wouldn’t expect anything less from the great Dark Knight.”
Y/n shifted her weight, glancing nervously between the two. “Cool, let’s drop it then, okay?” she said, forcing a nervous laugh.
Batman’s stern gaze flicked to her. “You’re treading dangerous ground, Y/n. Associating with him,” he nodded toward Jonathan “is a mistake. He can’t be trusted.”
Jonathan’s eyes darkened, his voice cold. “Trust is a matter of perspective, Batman. And right now, it seems she trusts me a great amount.”
Y/n felt her chest tighten. “You’re one to talk, Batman,” she said quickly, trying to bridge the widening gap between them. “The entire city knows about yours at Cat Women’s fling..”
“They’re two very different criminals,” Batman asked, his voice sharp, causing Y/n to groan. “Maybe he’s just playing a longer game, using you as a pawn.”
Jonathan stepped closer, his voice calm but edged with warning. “If I were playing a game, Batman, I’d have made my move by now. But this…tonight…I did it for her.”
The statement hung in the air, and Y/n’s heart skipped a beat. She looked up at Jonathan, surprised by the sincerity in his voice.
Batman narrowed his eyes. “You’re walking a fine line, Crane. Don’t think I won’t be there when you cross it.”
Y/n let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “Okay, how about we call it a night?” she suggested, desperate to break the tension.
Batman’s gaze lingered on her for a moment before he turned, his cape billowing as he strode into the shadows. “Stay out of trouble,” he muttered, disappearing into the night.
Jonathan watched him go, then turned to Y/n, his eyes softer than they had been a moment ago. “You should listen to him, you know.”
Y/n rolled her eyes. “Says you.”
Jonathan smirked, his usual calm confidence returning. “Touché.”
Y/n sighed, looking up at him. “Why did you really come tonight?”
Jonathan paused, his expression unreadable. “I told you. I didn’t want you getting hurt.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The night felt strangely still, as if the chaos from earlier had been swept away.
Y/n glanced back toward the city, then at Jonathan. “I guess I’ll see you around?”
Jonathan gave her a look, glancing at Y/n, his expression softening just slightly. “Not a chance,” he said, he tucked the mask away and stepped closer. “I’m not letting you out of my sight tonight.”
Y/n blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. “Wait, what? You’re not busy? I’ve already wasted a lot of your time.”
Jonathan’s gaze remained steady, unyielding. “You’ve had a rough night. I’m not letting you walk home alone.” His tone was calm, but there was no room for argument.
Y/n hesitated, glancing at the empty street. Part of her wanted to protest, but the other part felt a strange comfort in his words. She sighed, giving him a half-smile. “You know I can protect myself.”
Y/n shed her outer layers in the shadowed alley, blending into the darkness to avoid drawing attention.
Without another word, the two of them started walking down the quiet streets, side by side. The tension from earlier faded with each step, replaced by an odd sense of ease. Y/n glanced at Jonathan out of the corner of her eye. He wasn’t the same man she had faced in battle countless times. There was something different tonight, a strange connection between them that she couldn’t quite shake.
As they reached her apartment building, Jonathan paused at the entrance, his gaze scanning the area with sharp precision. Just then, the sound of flapping wings broke the silence. Craw came swooping down from the sky, a single flower clasped in its beak. It dropped the delicate bloom right into Y/n's hands before perching itself on Jonathan’s shoulder.
Y/n looked at the flower in surprise, recognizing the rare blossom immediately. “A flower delivery?” she teased, raising an eyebrow as she twirled the stem between her fingers.
Jonathan glanced at Craw and then at the flower, his face carefully neutral. “Must’ve been hunting and got distracted,” he said smoothly, though the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “Birds are unpredictable like that.”
Y/n chuckled, stepping closer to him. “Right. A total coincidence.”
She stood on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering just long enough to make him freeze for a moment. His smirk faltered, replaced by something softer, something he didn’t quite let show often.
As she pulled back, Y/n smiled warmly, clutching the flower to her chest. “Thanks, Jonathan.”
He cleared his throat, brushing off the moment as Craw flapped its wings once more. “Don’t mention it.”
Y/n walked into the apartment complex, hesitating for a moment. She glanced back at Jonathan, who was still standing there, his usual guarded demeanor softening.
“Are you coming up?” she asked, her voice quieter than before.
Jonathan's eyes flickered with something unreadable before he gave a slight nod. “If you’ll have me,” he replied, stepping forward.
They walked up to her apartment together in comfortable silence, the only sound being the soft flutter of Craw’s wings as the crow swooped ahead of them. When they reached her door, Y/n pushed it open and stepped inside, feeling Jonathan’s presence right behind her.
As the door shut behind them, the weight of Gotham, of the night’s events, seemed to fade away. There were no masks, no games, just the quiet understanding between them that, somehow, this felt right.
-
A/N: Sorry if it isn't good, I got through half of it then disappeared for ages, then carried on, so if it doesn't line up right then...oops
I will not be writing any more parts for this, as there is nothing else for me to add to this fic, sorry
I also ended up finishing this fic at like...2am, so if it's shit...my bad again
Thank you for the support and I hope you did enjoy :) 💚
summary: you and jason are bestfriends, partners, and you’re sick.
warnings: swearing, alludes to assualt, violence, throwing up
word count: 1961
there was more to jason todd than met the eye. he didn’t make friends easily but he was a good one. he had you, who he met in the streets, back when he was living there. who smiled at him and handed him a can of corn that had it not been unopened, he would’ve swore was poisoned. or a disguised explosive. or… well, he didn’t know, but nothing good ever came for free.
he needed to repay you somehow so he stuck around. he didn’t do anything but he watched. observed.
you were skin and bones; the picture of malnutrition. you shivered and your teeth gnashed against each other while you slept, leaning against the side of a green bin. you had a blanket for the longest time and then you didn’t. he’d come back from stealing and selling tires to find the only warmth you had was your own embrace.
your arms were wrapped tightly around yourself and you rocked back and forth. the only sound in the entire alleyway, as he approached, was your breathing and the thrumming of your head as you banged it lightly on the metal behind you. you heard his footsteps, heard them get louder, heard him get closer, heard them stop in front of you but still, you kept your eyes shut tight. you didn’t have anything else to give, you couldn’t help anymore, and more than that, you couldn’t bare to see the disappointment in someone’s eyes when you turned them down.
it was dark–you recall it being around midnight because moments before the footsteps, before meeting the boy who’d come to change your life, you were staring up at the sky. clouds were thick and dark but moonlight sat behind them, just a lighter patch in the sky, waiting for it’s chance. the stars, though, there were none. the closest to that you had gotten that night was when a man flicked away the ash from his cigarette. on it’s decent to the puddle ridden asphalt it glowed a deep orange. like a shooting star, hell, like a meteor, you wished on it. you don’t remember what you wished for, just that it came true. you felt wind in your face and fabric was draped over your shoulders, then there were hands.
“up you go,” jason encouraged. he’d pulled you into his side, given you his sweater, and got some food into you.
he’d more than repaid the debt but… you did your part too. you made him smile–a feat he didn’t think was even possible, having not used what he assumed were dead and decaying muscles, in so long. you told dumb jokes but they made him laugh so you didn’t care, you called him jay and you helped when you could. he kept you as close to him at all times as he could.
gotham was a dangerous place. it was too dangerous for someone as good as you, but he couldn’t help that. he couldn’t make the world a better so he had to make you worse–because your trusting nature? your tendency to see the best in people? to smile at strangers and go without so someone else wouldn’t have to? it fucking terrified him.
he brought you with him one night, and made you a witness to various crimes. each time, he quieted you, pressed his hand over your mouth and whispered horrors he’d seen. he told you how the world was and how it worked.
but until something happened to you, until jason came back from stealing and saw a man hurting you, you didn’t believe that the whole world was awful. until jason slammed a tire rim into him, staining it red and leaving him limp, you thought there was some good. then you didn’t. you realised there wasn’t.
and then? then batman took you both in. the batman. bruce-motherfucking-wayne decided to play dad to two homeless, orphaned, violent, and thieving teenagers.
at first he just wanted to take jason. he had no interest in raising a girl but when he looked at you, watched you hug jason, whisper “goodbye,” and saw you ready to sprint away, it was decided.
the world was selfish and in a way it had made you selfish too. but there was one person you were willing to be unselfish for and it was him. jason todd. your jay. you wanted what was best for him, you’d live on the streets, die there too, if that’s what it took. then, batman, who’d decided he also wanted what was best for jason, realised that it was you. you were what he needed.
both of you were placed in the backseat of the batmobile that’s tires, much to jason’s displeasure, were still in place.
then you were brought to your new home. it had more to offer than the occasional canned food and bread crumbs. you didn’t have to dumpster dive, didn’t have to struggle. there were heaters and blankets and stocked cupboards and even a butler named alfred.
batman didn’t have plans for you, just jason, who he wanted as his robin. you never liked feeling left out so you trained too. just… privately at first. sitting on jason’s bed (you weren’t yet comfortable sleeping anywhere he wasn’t and batman came to realise that superhero–super vigilante, or whatever, it didn’t matter because there was absolutely nothing short of attaching a ball and chain to both of your ankles that he could do about it) you swung your legs over the edge, them not quite hitting the floor, and made what jason thought was small talk. idle conversation.
“so, how was training?” he dabbed at his face with a cloth, collecting sweat, and sighed. he didn’t mind training, i mean, he thought it sucked, but liked that there was a goal to work towards, and that the goal was him being stronger, and that if he was stronger no one would ever be able to hurt anyone he cared about–there was only you–ever again. “what did batman make you do today? anything different?”
“well,” said jason. “we sparred today. i ran on the treadmill, lifted weights, and i think he made me do, like, 1000 pushups.” jason may have exaggerated there, but you didn’t quite understand. sarcasm, hyperboles, they weren’t your forte. it took you a full twenty four hours, but in sets of ten, you managed. you fought one of the pillows in your room–not well, but you did, and ran around the bed that you’d pulled into the centre of the room until you were panting. the next day you couldn’t spoon fucking cereal into your mouth but six months later batman finally caved.
“train me.” you said, not begging anymore–long past that actually. “i can do just as many pushups as jason can. i can run fast. i can do good, batman. i know i can. i know there's not enough good in the world, that it’s a shit place and that there’s shit people but i’m not one of them. i’ll do good, be good. i swear.”
“you can train but for self defence purposes. robin and i have the crime fighting handled.”
“i’ve been training. i want to train with you and jay. if there's something i can’t do i’ll sit out, you won’t have to babysit me, i won’t say a single word. just let me try. if i fail i’ll drop it.”
when batman tries to make you fail your odds aren’t great. when your best friend, his sidekick, taps out before you do, they improve drastically.
with the bat’s stamp of approval you kept training and training. you patrolled with them, with jason, and while jason was robin you were batgirl. at 18 (you) and 19 (jason) the two of you go out on your own without batman, he checks on you sometimes but doesn’t feel the need to chaperone you on your crime fighting endeavours.
it’s around ten pm, when the crime picks up in the streets, and jason is beginning to get impatient. you’re not the most punctual but right now you’re really late. he could start without you, scale a building and begin searching for some drug deal to bust or mugging to stop. he could… but he doesn’t. jason–well, robin, pulls out his phone and calls you. you’re in bed, not dressed in your suit, and it’s all you can do to roll over. you slide your thumb against your screen, answering with a barely audible groan. your face is pressed into the blanket and jason’s voice spills through the speaker. “where are you?”
“m’home…” you manage.
“what’s wrong? did something happen? home as in the apartment or–screw it,” jason is standing up, he’s checking your location himself, seeing that you’re at the wayne manor and sprinting back the way he came.
“jay it’s okay. i’m fine, just sick.”
“i’m coming home.”
“no,” you whine, “you have patrol. protect the city and the people. duty and…” you cough. rub your throat, “whatnot.”
jason doesn’t respond but you know he’s not listening. you hear the sound of clothes being removed and assume he’s changing out of his suit.
you roll your eyes, he really is stubborn. you try again “you’re a hero, jay.” what’s supposed to be a motivational speech is interrupted by a coughing fit. you slam your finger down on the mute button and press your face into the big bowl you took from the cabinet, retching.
when you’re done, you hit unmute. “you’ve got to do your thing and save the world.” your voice is scratchy, your throat hurts. your ribs too. you’ve been in serious battles less painful–against two face, the joker. being sick sucks.
“i plan to. but my world’s at home in bed, coughing her lungs out. i’m stopping at the drug store and i’ll be home, ‘kay?”
“okay…”
jason makes you stay on the phone until he walks through the door. he hangs up and helps you to the bathroom. “you should’ve told me you were puking i would’ve grabbed some pepto,” you shake your head, “wouldn't be able to keep it down,” and watch as he not-so-subtly attempts to slide the bag of your favourite candies behind him. your smile comes out pained as another wave of nausea hits and you’re in the bathroom dry heaving above the toilet. he holds your hair back (if it’s shorter, he rubs your scalp soothingly) and when you’re done, helps you back to the bed.
he’s walking around you, doting. there’s a water and ibuprofen on the nightstand, he’s brought you a heating pad, filled a hot water bottle, and pulled the blankets all the way up. tucking them under your chin. he’s checked your temperature twice and walks back in front of the bed toying with the thermometer. “jay, stop pacing.”
“are you okay? should i get alfred?”
“i’ll be fine. either leave so you don’t get sick or come here,” you pat the spot next to you and jason walks over, lowering himself down onto the bed and pulling you into his arms. he kisses your forehead, “my immune system seems to be a lot stronger than yours, batgirl.”
“mhm,” you agree. “all the training in the world couldn’t help that, robin.”
jason grumbled and you raised a brow. “still mad about that?”
“that you got the bat prefix? nah, i’m happy being a sidekick named after a bird. ‘course i’m mad. not at you though.” never at you is what he leaves out, “at batman. my hero name could’ve been way cooler.”
“are you telling me you’d rather be batboy?” you ask, tone incredulous.
he chuckles, shoulders raising in a shrug. “we’d make quite the pair.”
“we already do, dummy.”
that night batman covers for you two–he patrols and you stay in your partners arms, recovering. later, he helps alfred make you soup. everything is easy with him. even getting better.
Warning: attempted murder, blood, poor coping skills, so many bad words
Summary: Bruce finally gets what he’s deserved. And sorry but there’s gonna be a part 5 because it was getting too long and there’s at least 2 more scenes to finish.
Jason’s bike roared to life as you both climbed on. Loud noise of rioting could be heard nearby. Inmates must have escaped. It also attracted citizens of Gotham who thrived on chaos. The acrid smell of smoke could be smelt as well.
Jason drove down to the end of the tight alley and looked both directions of the fork. He didn’t see anything and the sounds and smells were everywhere. He chose randomly. The first Alley was clear but as it curved to an L, there was a pair of teenagers with garden tools. One had a weed wacker and the other a chain saw.
“What the fuck,” you breathed. Jason pulled a gun from his side holster.
“Move kids,” he demanded.
“I don’t think so. Batgirl is on the list,” the chainsaw kid said. The other laughed.
“Not even the Red Hood can protect her,” he said with glee. Your fingers sunk deeper into their grip of Jason’s back. He noticed but focused on the kids.
“Move or you’ll move in a body bag,” he threatened. He held the gun up to point at the kids.
“No,” yelled voices behind you both. You barely ducked as a rock was launched from a sling shot. Half a dozen punks dressed as if they were auditioning for a Broadway version of Peter Pan and the lost boys descended from behind you. Fuck it was a trap.
You barely kicked your leg up to get off the bike when you were attacked. Jason grabbed his other rubber bullet gun and started shooting. You threw kicks and punches. Kids started going down between the both of you.
Hits came from everywhere.
You hit back but it was too many.
You were so tired.
Being choked earlier and now hit.
BAM
You and the street kids turned to see Jason holding his gun.
“Get the fuck out of here or I’ll fucking kill you,” he snarled. They froze for a second before going back to it. Jason started shooting and purposefully missing and most scattered. But a particularly aggressive kid smacked his gun from his hand.
Jason turn and froze for a second as the teenager was currently wearing face paint to look like the joker. Before you could blink, he shoved the kid to the ground and started punching him in the face. Jason landed furious blows.
“Stop! He’s just a kid!” You yelled before yanking his arm back. The kid barely had an arm up weakly in defense. “Stop,” you begged and it seemed to take Jason a second before realizing what he had done. He breathed heavily and stared at his bloody hands and the kid who’s face was coated in his own blood.
“Fuck,” Jason breathed before scrambling off. You quickly called in a medical emergency. The kid was stable so you grabbed Jason’s arm and dragged him back to the bike. Jason climbed on and drove over to one of his safe houses without a word said.
Jason walked in and just stood in the middle of the small room. He seemed lost.
“Shower. Clean up. We’re disgusting,” you said looking for the bathroom.
“Last door,” he said weakly. He jumped when you grabbed his arm.
“Come on. You’re gross too,” you said pulling him along. You turned on the water before methodically taking your suit off. Jason turned his head and once again jumped when you touched his skin. Your fingers gently pulled the helmet off first. You pushed the dirty leather jacket to the floor and peeled the protective shirt off of him.
Jason couldn’t help but look at your body. This was certainly the most naked he’d ever seen you but his mind simply registered the changes since the last time he saw you. More scars, more adult. He supposed he was the same.
You unbuckled his thigh holsters and let them drop to the floor. Jason grabbed your hand when you went to unbuckle his belt.
“What? You need a shower,” you said looking up at him. Intimate but not sexual. The term was foreign to you until this moment.
Jason let your hand go and you pulled his belt open and unzipped his pants before pushing them down his leg. He shimmied out of them and kicked his boots off before standing beside you as you adjusted the water.
“Your ah- your boxers too,” you commented.
“Right,” he commented. Verbal again. Good. Jason pushed them down his legs before stepping in the water. You tried to not look down. Lord knows there was plenty to see without. Scars lined his back and crossed his arms. Muscles he certainly didn’t have years ago and actual hair on his chest. Every bit of him was muscular and strong and screamed a life of strife.
You climbed in after him and Jason just stared off. It was the most obvious PTSD flare and you’d seen Bruce around a broken pearl necklace. You grabbed Jason’s hands and pushed them in the water. Ruby blood poured down his hands and arms and swirled down the drain as you scrubbed them clean. After the water finally ran clean, you grabbed Jason’s shampoo and rubbed the soap in his hair. He leaned against you. He reached behind him to grab your arm before turning.
“I’m sorry,” Jason said. His voice was rough and scratchy sounding.
“It’s okay. You didn’t mean to do that. Let’s just get cleaned up,” you said grabbing the soap for your own hair. Jason took it from you and shampooed your hair for you. He delicately rubbed in the soap. His hand slipped down your neck to cup your jaw.
“You’re beautiful,” he said plainly and you flushed.
“Oh umm,” you started before stopping. Instead you put your head under the water to rinse the soap off.
“Thank you. For stopping me. I would have probably killed that kid,” he said letting you rinse the soap off of him. “I just- I saw the joker and I hurt him.”
“It’s okay. You didn’t mean to. Let’s get out before the water gets cold,” you said. You both dried off and changed into some of his sweatpants.
“You can stay the night if you want. I’ll sleep on the couch,” Jason mumbled putting on the kettle. “Do you want some tea?”
“No. Not really but thank you. You don’t have to sleep on the couch. Your dad won’t catch you,” you said with a sly smile. Distract, change, move on. Jason turned and a little curl formed on his lip.
“That was the biggest worry, hu?”
“I’d say Alfred and Dick were close to catching us plenty too,” you said with a little laugh. Jason huffed out a laugh.
“And we always thought we were sneaky.”
“But every drawer in your bathroom had condoms mysteriously added so maybe not,” you replied and you were both laughing at this point. “Bruce said no grandkids.”
“I think if you say Bruce Wayne is a grandfather 3 times in a mirror, he shows up to force you to take condoms,” Jason said. You had moved closer while you were talking. Jason looked down at you in his oversized sweats. “It probably was a smart idea at the time.”
“Yeah,” you said kissing his cheek before laying back on the bed. You were so exhausted. Jason look similarly wrecked.
You didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep before you woke up. Sunlight streamed in the bedroom window and you could hear Jason lightly snoring. He had thrown an arm over your waist in his sleep and part of you didn’t want to move but the other part needed to use the bathroom. You looked at him and counted the freckles on his face.
Many were new. He was alive. It was weird. You’d hoped for this moment for years. You thought he had died and he had. But now he was here and currently breathing on your neck. You tried to move away but Jason just pulled you closer. He was so warm that it was uncomfortably hot. You were going to sweat to death in cold Gotham.
“What’s wrong,” his voice graveled.
“Just a little hot in here,” you said and he opened an eye.
“In Gotham? In December? That’s a new one.”
“No. Just underneath your gigantic body,” you quipped.
“Pfff, I’m not monster sized or anything. Go back to sleep. It’s only been 5 hours. I’d like a full 13,” Jason said closing his eyes again.
“No I need to get up,” you said pushing and Jason rolled to his back with a groan. Climbing out of bed on the cold tile floor actually felt refreshing rather than icy. You looked for your shoes and gear.
“Leaving so soon,” he asked opening his eyes and sitting up in bed. You stopped and stared at him. Why did this feel like a one night stand? You didn’t sleep with him. You weren’t leaving forever. But your phone was blown up with Batfam worried about you.
“I- I just need to get back and give report and let them know I’m alive,” you tried to joke. Jason looked down.
“Yeah, so you still work with them and listen to him?” He asked, disappointed.
“I’ve never listened to him. I mainly work with Barbara and I’ve been training batgirl junior. But I pretty much work alone except for big things,” you replied with a frown.
“Right, I just thought…”
“Look, it’s been years and I was soo fucked up over what happened to you, trust me,” you said looking at him with an uncomfortable intensity. “But I knew what happened to you. I was mad at how Bruce handled your death. But I knew your death wasn’t his fault. I was just really fucking sad.”
Jason looked away and you climbed on the bed causing him to look at you warily. You cupped his cheeks. “I’m so fucking happy to see you that you don’t even know. But I have to go. I’ll see you later, yeah?” You asked before kissing him. Jason melted into your touch.
“Yeah,” he said as you pulled away.
“I’ll call you,” you said and he nodded trying to not feel jealous.
———————————
6 months after Jason Died
Crisp black dress and fancy heels was not your usual. You’d never work your hair this severe. But this was a Wayne event and you were trying to be there for Jason’s memory. The dirt felt still fresh on his grave. 6 months had passed and you couldn’t go a whole day without crying.
And Bruce Wayne had the audacity to stand in front of a crowd, dressed up in a suit, and open this stupid library in Jason’s name. The joker was still out there and instead he was cutting a red ribbon because it was Jason’s favorite color. The publicity, the PR was stupid. Bruce was playing the part of the sad father when in all reality, he had been going out every night as Batman as if nothing happened.
Barbara sat in her chair beside you in the crowd. She reached up to hold your hand while Bruce dared to talk about Jason. His son’s life so tragically cut short by an accident. He had covered it up with a story of a hiking accident. You glared at him the whole time. Dick still hadn’t shown up to anything.
Afterwards Bruce invited you and Barbara and one of his employees from Wayne Enterprise that was in the know, Lucious Fox. Alfred served tea and lunch. There was black shaws on the mirrors and the curtains hung low. The manor felt cold and empty. Before the meal began, Bruce cleared his throat and raised his glass. Everyone repeated his action.
“To Jason,” he said with a quick toast. Everyone muttered their agreement before eating. You sat dumbfounded.
“That’s it?” You asked angrily. This wasn’t enough. “Jason is dead and all he gets is a stupid fucking toast. The library that he’ll never visit. What a great PR stunt,” you spat at Bruce. He simply clenched his jaw rather than answer.
“If you actually fucking cared then you would at least put the joker in Arkham. He deserves to be 6 foot under,” you continued.
“That’s enough,” Bruce replied.
“No! Fuck you, you constipated asshole. Your son is fucking dead and you’re having tea while his goddamn murder is walking free! How many other kids have died since?”
“You don’t understand!” He yelled.
“Because I’m a stupid street rat? Fuck you, Bruce,” you said, getting up and storming out.
You walked to the family plot and laid on Jason’s grave until Alfred came to get you hours later.
———————————
Now
“Okay so last night wasn’t great,” Dick said sitting on the medbay bed. He had an IV running of antibiotics and his other upper arm was wrapped gauze.
You grabbed the coffee mug that Robin had just filled. “Coffee will stunt your growth kid,” you said. Tim grunted and grabbed another cup.
Bruce sat by the computers with an ice pack on his knee while sporting 2 black eyes. He sighed and turned on the computer screen.
“With the outbreak, we had a breakdown of communication. We had inmates escape including Killer Croc, Captain Cold, and Professor Pyg. There is an entire handbook of information on what to do during an Arkham outbreak and it completely ignored,” Bruce grumbled. “So there will be a module on it to test on before patrol tonight.”
There was the sound of complaints in the room. Alfred came down with sandwiches. Cucumber for Dick and ham for Bruce and a mix for everyone else.
“Batgirl went dark at the worst moment,” Bruce continued.
“I was being strangled,” you retorted, showing off your neck.
“And I have no report of the situation,” he replied back.
“I’ll hop right on it.”
“You need to have open communication with your team in order to succeed. Robin and Spoiler helped the outbreak when you disappeared,” Bruce continued.
“Open communications? Are you kidding me? You didn’t even tell me about Jason,” you snapped at him.
“Can we stay on task here,” Dick tried to rein the group in.
“Of course you want to move on. Didn’t even bother going to the funeral so sure you don’t care now,” you spit at Dick.
“Okay, I’ve been nice for fucking years,” Dick started. “I missed the funeral because Bruce didn’t fucking tell me. Kori saw it in the paper a week later. And by that time, you thought you knew all about me and that I didn’t care. I’m still pissed I missed it.”
“What?” You said before turning to Bruce. “You didn’t even tell Dick? What the fuck? Why?”
“He was on a mission,” Bruce defended himself. “But we should go back to the mission now.”
“You really are fucked in the head, hu? You don’t even really know how shitty that was?” You said incredulous. “I’ll find these stupid fucking rouges and lock them up but don’t call me any more. I don’t want anything to do with this fucking circus.”
A/N: I HAVE RETURN WITH ANOTHER JASON FIC!!! This is about teenage Jason and Batgirl! Reader (because I always love it when the reader is also a vigilante) trying to have a somewhat normal teenager life. I’ve had this in my draft for awhile but I’ve been putting off uploading it so that I don’t upload all my good stuff lol. I really enjoy this one and I’m so so sorry if Jason is a little ooc and if there’s any grammatical error . Hope you guys enjoy this 💕💕
Pairings: Jason Todd/Red Hood x female!reader
Warnings: Some guy grabs your bum. What a jerk.
My masterlist :)))
~~
y/n sighed in relief when she finally found an empty bathroom to tend to her wound. Her right knuckle was bloodied and throbbing, though y/n was sure it wasn’t broken. She rummaged through cabinets and shelves for some sort of first aid kit when suddenly her phone rang.
“What?” She spat, continuing her search.
“Where are you?” The caller’s voice was barely audible due to the loud music.
“I’m hiding from this infernal torture you call a party.”
“I’m serious, y/n. Where are you?”
y/n sighed. “Upstairs bathroom. Right hallway, second door on your left.”
The call ended and y/n cursed when she found no first aid kit. She slid down to the floor, leaning against the tub while closing her eyes annoyed at the way the night turned out. When Jason asked her to crash a party with him, she didn’t thought that it would resulted in her punching some guy face. She didn’t expect a night like one of those coming of age movie, but she wanted at least a normal night as a teenager instead of running around in tight costumes fighting Gotham’s villains.
A knock on the door made y/n opened her eyes. The door swung and there stood Jason, in all his leather jacket glory, with a sorry look on his face. He closed the door behind him and made himself comfortable by sitting next to his partner.
“So, I take it you’re not having fun?” Jason asked, sarcasm dripping in his words.
“Some guy grabs my ass. I don’t know about you but that’s not my way of fun.”
“Yeah, I heard. I think they just stopped his bleeding. I don’t think anyone will be messing with you again at school.” He smiled.
y/n scoffed. “If anyone even tries then some poor bastard is gonna get a visit from batgirl and robin.”
Suddenly, both of them bursts into laughter, tears forming in their eyes. This is how y/n wanted her night to be. Just the two of them, not partying with some random people from school who doesn’t necessarily like them. Maybe they could do a horror movie marathon or grab some food from that diner that Jason likes. The night was still young after all. y/n leaned her head on Jason’s shoulder and loop her arm around his, meanwhile Jason had his head on top of hers and the two enjoyed the comfortable silence.
“How about we just ditch this place and watch a movie at the manor?” He suggested.
“That sounds nice. Maybe we could grab some food on the way there?”
“Jerry’s?”
“Jerry’s,” She confirmed, talking about his favorite diner.
“Okay, up you go. Let’s get your hand clean up first.” Jason stood up and pulled y/n from the floor. “I got some stuff from one of the bathrooms downstairs.”
He walked her towards the sink, where he pulled a roll of bandage and a small bottle of antiseptic from his jacket pocket. He began to apply the antiseptic to her bruised hand and covered it with bandage once he’s done.
“There all done.” Jason smiled in victory, and held out his hand. “Shall we, Batgirl?”
y/n returned the smile and took his hand. “Yes, we shall, Robin.”
-----
Like most people, your life had a routine. You’d wake up early and go for a jog or do some yoga, depending on the weather. Then you’d spend a half hour on your phone, before you glanced at the clock and scrambled to get ready on time. You normally met Dick for breakfast before making your way to work.
Generally, your nights and weekends were more entertaining. You spent your nights donning a domino mask and Kevlar, punching assholes and stopping crime. Saturdays were sleepover nights with Damian, and Sundays were girls’ days.
So, considering you were standing on a rooftop with dead bodies littered around you when you were supposed to be watching a movie, you were not happy.
“Robin, come to my coordinates.”
“Tt.”
You smile slightly, rolling your eyes before you turned your head, catching sight of a man with a red hood and a symbol on his chest. You eyed the symbol skeptically. “I didn’t know the Bats had a new associate.”
The man remained silent, staring you down. His fingers twitched, and you noticed the gun holsters on his thighs. Two guns. Five dead bodies. He had seven bullets left. Okay, so maybe Bruce didn’t have a new associate.
“You gonna threaten me, or shoot me?” You say nonchalantly, gripping your escrima sticks. He moves quickly, and you’re darting to the side before you fully internalise he’s pulling the trigger.
“Alright then,” you huff dryly. “Guess you’re shooting me.” He raises the gun again, and you backflip away from the next bullets, lunging in his direction. Five. Four. Three. The next bullet snags your cape- two- and you swing your leg and attempt to knock him back. He dodges the kick and intercepts your path, moving to flip you. You kick back off the wall, using that as leverage to swing your body around his. You slam your escrima stick into the back of his head the same time his fist comes into contact with your jaw. You slip from his body, and he used the opportunity to kick at your ribs, sending you stumbling. He lunges at you, causing you to slam against the wall. One of his hands is around your throat, cutting off your air supply, and the other is holding his loaded gun, pressed against your temple. You know you can easily break his arm from the position, but for some reason, you can’t seem to move. Even through his voice modulator, the man’s anger is clear when he speaks, the words he growls out making your blood run cold.
“You let Jason Todd die.”
Your eyes widen and you’re going to swing out but instead of shooting you, he drops the gun and slams you back into the wall, your head hitting the wall with a loud CRACK-
-and then all you see is black.
-----
The first thing you register is the pounding in your head.
You groggily try to sit up and wince at the bright lights. A hand on your shoulder pushes you back down- what? No, you need to get up, you need to-
“Lie down.” A voice commands and your body goes limp. The figure looks funny. He looks like a bat. And a man. Hey! Batman!
A whine emerges from your throat as your face scrunches up.
“I don’t wanna,” you protest weakly, trying to get up again. Your voice comes out scratchy, and your throat hurts when you talk. Suddenly there are two hands on both of your shoulders, keeping you on the bed.
“Do you want Alfred to scold?” The voice softens slightly. You shake your head, wincing when it hurts. Fingers dance along your hairline, soothing you.
“Rest. Once you’re better, the family’s going to have a chat.”
“Mkay,” you wrap your fingers around the wrist above your head, and you let sleep overtake you.
-----
When you wake up, you’re alone. Well, for approximately 0.3 seconds before Alfred enters through the door. He’s carrying some meds and soup. He stands over you, making sure you finish every last drop even though your throat hurts like a bitch.
You manage to convince him you’re fine, with Barbara's help, before you spend a good hour or so on trying to conceal the bruises on your neck.
Barbara drives you and the girls to Metropolis to pick up Kara before heading to Central City. Despite all the fun the others seem to be having, you can’t take your mind off the previous night, or off Jason. You had no idea who that man was, or how he knew you were connected to Jason.
The weight of Jason’s death had weighed down on you somewhat heavier than the rest of your family. Bruce became reckless, and almost killed multiple times. Dick went off the grid for 6 whole months, and when he returned, he acted like nothing had happened. No one knows what he did or where he went. Barbara stopped coming to the cave. She still went out on patrol, but didn’t talk to you. Alfred assumed you needed some space, so he gave you that.
As your family pulled away, you started falling into the dark abyss of depression. You resorted to self harm as a way of coping. After Alfred inquiring on your long-sleeves, you moved the cuts to your thighs. You fell so deep into the hole that one day, you grabbed some sleeping pills and swallowed about 20. Alfred noticed the bottle was empty, and he rushed to your bedroom in time.
That was around the time Tim popped up as Robin.
Despite trying to help you, your family never quite understood you. Perhaps Bruce did, better than the two of thought, but Bruce was rarely one to talk about his emotions. When Jason died, you felt like you were to blame. You were quite literally the Batgirl to his Robin. You always patrolled together, always hung around, plotting the next prank to pull on Dick. Considering the two of you were practically inseparable, you felt so damn guilty that Jason went to the warehouse himself. You should’ve gone with him. Maybe if you had gone with him, he would have still been alive.
The guilt had been gnawing at you for five years. There wasn’t a single damn day that you didn’t miss Jason. The day he died, you had furiously scribbled a letter that was about 5 pages long, listing all the reasons you hated him. You were angry, and you wanted to make sure he knew you were angry. The next day, you wrote a tear stained letter saying you loved him, and you were sorry for everything.
You then wrote him letters, one for every day that passed. This time, Day 1564, you reccounted the Red Hood guy occurrence, before telling him about this cute waiter that Dick said had been flirting with you at the cafe. You asked him, rhetorically, if you should go for it. You signed off as usual, saying you loved and missed him.
You slipped the letter into a red envelope, making your way to the garden of Wayne Manor. You couldn’t shake the feeling you were being watched, but then you remembered Bruce had tinkered with the security, so that was probably it.
You moved towards the rose bushes, and eased your way into the tiny opening in between the white rose bushes. You grabbed a long wooden box you had been stashing there, slipping the latest letter inside. You shut it, placing it back in the bush, before you straightened.
Shoving your hands into your jacket pockets, you made your way to the living room, where Bruce was trying to get everyone’s attention.
“I have some information pertaining to the Red Hood. We all need to talk.”
-----
And So the Sky Shall Weep
-----
“We all need to talk.” Bruce moves to the grandfather clock, adjusting the time on it. The door swings open, and he goes in, beckoning for you to follow. Bruce stops in front of the Batcomputer, his face hard.
“You may want to sit down,” Bruce gestures to you, Barbara and Dick. Barbara complies, and Dick leans against the table. You do the same, crossing your arms. What could possibly be so shocking that Bruce wants you to sit down?
Bruce turns on the computer screen, and you hear Dick swear beside you. Barbara buries her head in her hand, letting out a choked ‘Oh my god’. Tim and Damian stop poking each other and pause. You seem to be the only one that’s got their shit together, but by the way Bruce is looking at you, you feel yourself unravelling and quick.
Because on the screen, bold and bright as day, the dna samples of Jason Todd and the Red Hood were a 100% match. That could only mean one thing.
“He’s alive?” Dick croaks, eyes shining with unshed tears. Bruce gave Dick a brisk nod as he placed a hand on Barbara’s shoulder.
“This concerns me how?” Damian drawls, earning a well deserved shove from Tim. Damian of course, retaliates, but Bruce ignores them. His eyes are trained on you, obviously concerned at how you’ve just frozen up.
“He’s dead.” You say, voice too loud and too far away.
“He’s alive-“ Bruce starts gently, but you cut him off.
“No!” You don’t realise you’re shouting until your throat burns painfully. That doesn’t seem to deter you though.“He’s dead! I saw his body! He can’t- he’s dead.”
You don’t want to believe Bruce, don’t want to believe the test. “It’s faulty,” you say.
“I sent it to seven different labs, all of them came back with the same report,” Bruce soothes. You’re trembling, and Bruce reaches out to touch you. You push him away, walking backwards.
“I- I need to think.”
You sprint out of the Batcave, pushing past Alfred and out the door, getting on your bike and driving past the gate faster than you thought was possible. There was a strange sort of numbness that overwhelmed you, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the dam that held your feelings back broke. And you’re pretty sure you didn’t want to be around others when that happened.
You were unlocking the door of your apartment without properly registering it, your body moving on its own to put on your suit and grab your escrima sticks. Next thing you know, you’re on the roof of your building. Your eyes scan the skyline of Gotham, and you inhale deeply, letting the cool night air surround you. In. Out. In. Out. In-The rumble of clouds overhead breaks your focus, and you suddenly find yourself running.
You don’t know what you’re running from - or towards - but you just kept running. You leaped over the gaps in the buildings, hopping over ledges and power lines. Tears begin to blur your vision, but you don’t stop running. You regret that decision as soon as you trip over a plank of wood, flying forward. Luckily, or unluckily, the building had a ledge, which meant that instead of falling down 20 stories, your stomach collided with the ledge.
Hot tears fell from your eyes, and you didn’t bother trying to hold them back. You gripped the edge of the ledge tightly, your chest heaving as you choked on a sob. Lightning cracked nearby, and rain followed a millisecond later.
Five years. Five goddamn years. You mourned him for five years, you felt all that pain, all that guilt, and he was alive? You knew you were screaming when you felt your throat burn.
Screaming didn’t alleviate the weight on your chest, so you lifted your fist and brought it down on the concrete. The pain was shooting up your arm, but that didn’t stop you from hitting the ledge again. You felt like a five-year-old throwing a tantrum, frustrated and angry and sad, and having no clue on how to handle the situation. You screamed again, shoving the ledge and hitting it as if it could solve the problem.
Black gloves hands encircled you, gripping your wrists tightly and preventing you from hitting out. You thrashed in the hold, kicking out uselessly.
“You’ll hurt yourself!” Bruce’s voice came through. He hadn’t switched on his voice modulator.
“I don’t care!” You punctuated each word with a shove, but you slumped into his chest, closing your eyes. You’re sobs died down as Bruce held you, and you let the rain lull you to sleep.
-----
Love is Slowly Losing Your Mind
-----
Tick.
You can’t see.
Tock.
You can’t move.
Tick.
You can’t breathe.
Tock.
You hear footsteps.
Tick.
“She’s finally awake!”
Tock
You know that voice.
Tick
“Decided to join the party eh?”
Tock
Its always that voice.
Tick.
A cloth is ripped away from your face.
Tock.
Red lips smile right in front of you.
Tick.
Fuck.
Tock.
“Let’s play.”
Tick.
Your eyes snap open. You can’t breathe, you can’t move.
It was just a dream. You force yourself to close your eyes, focusing on the whirring of the fan above you as you calm your breathing. Just a dream, you tell yourself.
You sit up, pulling your hair into a ponytail and heading over to the bathroom. You brush your teeth, wash your face, and look in the mirror.
He can’t hurt you anymore.
You dress and go to the cafe, arriving half an hour early. A waitress places some coffee in front of you and you thank her with a smile. You don’t drink the coffee though.
The sound of the chair scraping on the floor causes you to look up, and Dick smiles down at you. Except this time, his smile isn’t genuine, it doesn’t reach his eyes. He looks tired, and worn down, something that shocks you a little. Dick isn’t normally one to be anything less that happy.
He sits across you, swallowing, eyes darting anywhere but your face. When the waitress placed your usuals down, neither of you make a move to eat.
“So,” he starts, voice rough. He clears his throat, sighing heavily and running a hand across his face.
“So,” you agree, picking up your cup and lifting it to your mouth. You wrinkle your nose at the now cold beverage. You make eye contact with Dick and the unspoken question hangs in the air.
Now what?
He’s a mob boss, Dick’s raised eyebrow says.
He’s dangerous, your frown responds.
He almost killed you, Dick slumps further into his seat, eyes never leaving yours.
“He’s family,” you say, voice quiet. Dick closes his eyes for a moment. “Yeah. He is.”
You don’t say much else, and you part to go to your respective jobs. You reach your office, and there are no new cases or any overdue paperwork to deal with, which is a first. Your boss tells you to take the rest of the day off, so you do.
You walk around Gotham for hours, only going back home when the sun begins to set. You contemplate skipping patrol, but you know you need the exercise.
Suddenly you were 10 years old again, clinging onto Dick’s hand before your first patrol.
There’s nothing to be scared about, you rationalise. Absolutely nothing.
You were wrong.
You don’t make it very far, just two blocks away from your apartment, when you see the Red Hood.
-----
When Can I See You Again?
-----
You stumble onto the roof, fisting your cape on your side. He’s leaning against the edge of the building, his arms crossed. He seems to be watching you, or waiting for you, whichever it is, you’re not entirely sure.
He watches you for a moment, and you watch him, a voice in your head telling you that there’s no way in hell that’s Jason Todd.
Red Hood pushed himself off the wall, striding towards you and easily towering over you. Your heart is drumming in your ears, with him being so close to you that you can smell him, and the doubt begins to fade.
The scent is a deep, musky sort of aroma, whiffs of cigarette smoke and alcohol mixing in nicely. It’s strange, reminding you of dark and dingy corners of bars late at night, but at the same time it’s so incredibly him, so incredibly Jason, that you don’t have the heart to deny yourself a little hope anymore.
Especially not with that stupid leather jacket of his, making his arms look so good.
You swallow nervously, tilting your head up to look at him. If either of you move any closer, your chests would be brushing.
And then he moves. He takes a small step closer, one of his hands now on the small of your back and guiding you backwards, into the shadows, until your back touches a wall. You don’t know why your body lets him, why you’re not reacting to him dragging guiding you around.
He’s practically pressed against you, one of his legs between yours, the hand not on your back is resting on the wall on the side of his head. He’s so much taller than you, your head practically looking straight up to look at him.
You hear an intake of breath which could be him about to say something, but then your hands touch his mask gently. He flinches away, body tensing. His hand leaves your back and is suddenly gripping your neck, pressing you against the wall.
“You got some fuckin’ nerve,” he starts, voice gravelly. You don’t care, or seem to have heard him, really, your hands going straight back to his hood. “Take it off.”
“Given’ me orders, huh? Never would’ve thought you-”
“Take the fucking thing off or get your hands off me!” You retort, tugging at his hand around your neck. Surprisingly, you don’t seem to mind it at all. Hood’s eyes narrow and he pulls back very slightly, his hands leaving you. You’re almost disappointed until he pulls his helmet off, dropping it onto the floor. Not a second passes before he’s closed in on you again, this time applying pressure on your neck.
You’re nearly gasping for air, but you don’t struggle or make any attempts to get out of his grasp. Instead, you look at him, memorising his features. His eyes have hardened, a new steel in them that wasn't there before, but somehow they’ve stayed exactly the same. You see his features soften just a little as you breathe out his name, and you watch as his pupils dilate. Jason - it’s so clearly Jason - smirks, his head dipping down to yours. You can feel his breath on your face, your eyes locked onto his.
“So fuckin’ pretty,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking your jaw.
“I could destroy you,” he continued, voice soft and eerily soothing. “I could wreck you and ya wouldn’t stand a chance. Could snap this pretty little neck o’ yours.”
A normal person would be trembling, scared shitless in this situation. You… were not normal.
“What’s stopping you then?” You say, voice low and equally calm. You inhaled and god he smelled good.
“Nothin’ if you keep runnin’ that mouth.”
“I’m calling bullshit,” you say, smug under him, despite the fact that he has you pinned and his hand is tight around your throat. He cocks and eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. “If you wanted to kill me you would’ve done it that other night.”
“Maybe I’m regretting’ leaving you alive,” he shoots back. You shrug, leaning your head back as if you were extremely comfortable. (Which, for the record, you totally were.) Jason - Red Hood?- lets his forehead rest against your for a moment, your lips almost brushing. You could just… tilt your head up…
With a heavy sigh, he releases you, taking a few steps away from you. He picks up his helmet, back turning towards you, and you let out a shaky breath.
“Next time I’m gonna kill you,” he says, voice not in the least bit threatening.
A sudden urge to touch him again courses through you, and you lunge towards him. His reflexes are still sharp, and he spins around, anticipating an attack. Your body slams into his, and he barely shifts. He only seems to stiffen when you wrap your arms around him. You press your cheek to his chest, breath shaky as you listen to his steady heartbeat. You don’t realise you’re crying until his gloved hand strokes your cheek. His other arm wraps around your shoulders awkwardly, unsure of how to react. You sniffle, arms tightening around him. He seems to get the hint and tightens his grip on you, his touch full of warmth and comfort.
You pull away first, and he avoids your gaze.
“You still gonna try to kill me?” You say, trying to lighten the moment. Your voice comes out a lot weaker than you would’ve liked.
Red Hood straightens up to his full height, staring at you head on.
A drabble Jaime x batgirl!reader where the reader tries to outsmart the scarab??? -Anonymous
I know it’s been a while and I’m sorry! School had already been kicking my ass but I really want to get more of these out before the end of February. Also this drabble has both Arrowette and Spoiler in it though this isn’t during season 3 so there’s no spoilers for anything that happens in that. I just wanted to use them lol -Terra
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Wind rushed around your body, the world blurring as you flew through the air in swings and flips. The adrenaline coursed through your veins and the thrill of the chase pulsed through your being. You landed with the grace of many years of experience and surveyed your surroundings. The docks of Gotham looked no different than they had the first time you had visited them. The grime and filth still permeated the air, and you knew the darkest shadows concealed the scum of the city even still. Tonight however, the air carried a certain charge to it that was mimicked by your pounding heartbeat.
Not one to rush ahead you took up cover, careful to make sure the area had been thoroughly surveyed like your mentor had drilled into you from the start. Nothing but the trash carried by the winds of the harbor caught your gaze, you were alone, the night was still yours. You smirked, this would be easier than you had thought. You brought you ear to your comms. “Batgirl to Robin, the coast is clear move in.”
“Copy Batgirl, proceed to point two.” With Robin’s confirmation you finally moved from your cover, pulling out your grapple once again as you put away your “bat-noculars” as you had dubbed them much to your mentor’s internal torment. You took another quick survey of the area, seeing the faint shadows of your team moving into position. With a deep breath, you jumped, feeling the wind caress your body as you fell before you fired your line, swinging from building to building until you landed on your target. Once again secure on the roof, you met up with Robin, Arrowette, and Static.
“Alarms and video surveillance were already out.” Static said with a look of confusion, “Batgirl, you sure we’re the first one’s here?”
“What?” You felt your excitement quelled immediately at the statement.
“He said the place was already green, someone’s beat us to the catch already.” Arrowette replied.
No, not again. You weren’t going to let this happen again. You growled and yanked open the hatch on the roof, ignoring your team’s concerned looks as you jumped through and landed among the crates inside the warehouse. You didn’t even bother taking cover, the rest of your team following with a hint more caution and some uncertain looks shared between them.
As you rounded the corner, your heart sank when you saw none other than Kid Flash, Spoiler, Wonder Girl and Blue Beetle already waiting. “Son of a bitch!” You yelled, kicking the nearest metal barrel as you registered the scene in front of you. “How the fuck did you beat us again?”
“The clues to get here were a breeze with the scarab’s help, even with your attempted sabotage Batgirl though I will say you did better than last time. We got here in no time at all actually, we’ve been waiting for you guys for a while.” Your boyfriend said, a smirk evident on his blue armor-clad face, in his hands he twirled the red flag, the objective for your latest team exercise.
“I thought you said the coast was clear?” Tim said to you, crossing his arms over his chest.
“There was nothing on the thermal!” You cried out, throwing your hands into the air.
“Yeah it turns out the scarab can trick your fancy bat-tech, who knew?” Jaime shrugged, and still had that infuriating smug smirk on his face.
You just huffed, thoroughly annoyed that yet again you had failed to outsmart that god damn bug on his back. You loved the man it was attached to, but the scarab was a bit of a different story. Ever since Jaime mentioned that the scarab thought it was such hot shit you had been determined to prove it wrong one way or another. So far however any and all attempts ended just as well as this one had. You were scared to ask what the tally was by this point, but alien AI be damned you were going to one up the little blue fucker even if it was going to kill you.
“Tell the bug that it’s got a big storm comin’.” You grumbled. Jaime just laughed and pulled you to him, placing a kiss on your forehead.
