꒰ content ꒱ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ drunk!jason todd x fem!reader, fluff, talks of pregnancies, art by ciricearts
“Sweetheart, we’re gonna have a baby?” he mumbles, lifting your shirt to press messy kisses up your stomach. You’re not sure where he got this idea from. The two of you have never talked about kids, mostly because you’ve been afraid to bring it up.
You learned early on that the future was something you didn’t mention around him. Every time you made an offhand comment about a ring, or how cute babies were, you’d see his shoulders tense, his throat bobbing.
Now, at his words, your heart speeds up. “Uh…”
“I hope she has your eyes and your nose and your pretty smile,” he slurs.
“Jay, what are you—”
He cuts you off when his nose brushes your stomach softly. “Our baby,” he adds.
When he looks up at you, his blue eyes are glassy, cheeks dusted in pink.
You can’t bring yourself to shatter the moment. Especially not when he’s looking at you like that.
“That’s…nice, honey,” you hum, fingers threading through his black curls, nails scratching lightly at his scalp.
He sighs like a puppy. “You feel nicer.”
Your lips curve up at that. "Come on, let's get you to bed," you whisper as you try to pull him up.
But the man's too stubborn. He stays rooted and grunts in disapproval.
"Not done talkin' to her," he tells you, arms wrapping around your hips.
“her?” you repeat softly. “How do you know it’s a her?”
"Father's intuition," he says it like it should be obvious.
You laugh and he pouts when he feels your shoulders shaking. "You really want a baby?" you ask him.
He tilts his head. And he's never looked so unguarded before.
"Wanna give you everything."
Maybe in the morning you'll find the courage to ask him again. But for now, your expression softens. You don't know what to say, so you kneel with him and throw your arms around his neck. He smells like gunpowder and leather, and this time a tang of alcohol clings to him.
synopsis: you were curious about bikers before, but you are pretty sure they just became your weak spot after meeting this handsome, green-eyed stranger at the gas station
content: fluff, meet-cute, tough exterior n soft interior jason, reader thinking of riding him for a sec, but c’mon, who wouldn’t in this context
“Hi, um, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could…” Jason watched you—the cute girl who had approached him at the gas station—do a revving motion with your hand. Didn’t even say it out loud; just moved your fist and looked at him with those big eyes.
Through the dark visor of his helmet, you couldn’t see the way Jason was squinting down at you. And still, you felt like you were being scrutinized. Now, you regretted not getting ready properly. I mean, you had just wanted to go get some gas. You would’ve put more thought into your choice of clothing if you had known that you’d end up seeing a biker there; one with broad shoulders that filled out his leather jacket impressively. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case, though, as you’d randomly thrown something together this morning.
Taking in your adorably curious face, Jason found himself wondering what a sweet girl like you was doing walking up to a guy like him. He was well aware of what kind of first impression most people got of him. After all, he was a big guy with an even bigger motorcycle.
But you didn’t look intimidated by his stature at all. If anything, you just seemed a bit shy asking him for permission to lay hands on his bike. So with a nod, he gave you the okay. In real time, he saw the sheepish expression on your face melt away and in its stead witnessed a spark of excitement light up in your eyes.
He watched you attentively as you took a few steps closer to his bike, and reached over to the handle. You were about to twist it expectantly, when Jason stopped you with a chuckle. Eyes lifting to look at the attractive stranger, you were worried that you had done something wrong already without noticing it.
“Not like that. You need to twist it towards you, all right?” Your cheeks warmed up in embarrassment, but his gloved hand simply came to rest over yours.
When he guided it in the right direction now, the bike’s engine roared to life loudly. The vibrations of the motor sent your heart tumbling into a frantic rush. To say you were impressed would have been nothing less than a blatant understatement. Jason could practically see stars form in your eyes. “You’re a fan of bikes, huh?” He huffed in amusement. His gaze drifted over your side profile as you nodded. You were pretty. Really pretty.
“Y’want to go for a ride?” The question left his mouth before his brain could catch up with what he was suggesting. It was unlike Jason to make an offer like this to someone he didn’t even know. He did it anyway, so that had to mean something, surely. Lifting his visor, he peered straight into your soul now—no kind of glass acting as a form of separation between you two.
You turned your head to look at him, and for a moment, you were just staring at him—soft lips parted. Clearly, you were as taken aback by his offer as he was. And also by those uniquely vibrant green eyes, but hopefully that wasn’t something the dark-haired biker would know.
Stranger danger should have stopped you from agreeing to something so reckless, especially in a crazy place like Gotham City, but much like Jason, you weren’t acting like yourself at the moment. “I… I mean, if you have the time.” Luckily for you, he had an extra helmet with him.
After Jason explained the basics of what you needed to know, you found yourself on the back of his bike. When he sensed that you hesitated to hold onto him, unsure of where to put your hands without crossing some sort of line, one of Jason’s hands reached backwards to grab yours and place it around his midriff.
“Hold on tight, sweetheart,” he ordered, but his voice was terribly kind. Then he snapped his visor back down, and you were off onto the road.
It was exhilarating; hearing the raucous vrooming sound of the engine, feeling the wind whip past your bodies.
You felt more alive than you ever had before. A thrilled little laugh came from you as you allowed yourself to enjoy the ride. Only now did you realize that you didn’t even know this stranger’s name yet. You had been too caught up in your inner monologue panicking over how bad of an idea this probably was.
When Jason sped up to overtake a car, you closed your eyes momentarily and rested your head against his back. Oh my god, this was as terrifying as it was fun.
The longer you two drove, the more your nerves began to ease into pure, unfiltered joy. You were growing more comfortable by the minute—your hands traveling along his abdomen and holding onto him tighter. At one point, your hand was pressed against his pectoral, and if you hadn’t been so swept up in the moment, you would’ve been able to feel the rapid, thumping beat of his heart.
Once you two stopped at a red light, the man you’d been clinging onto turned his head so that you could hear him better. “You good?” You might not know much about this stranger, but one thing you knew for sure: he was painfully considerate.
Jason started out driving not too fast, paid attention to your body language the whole ride through, and only began speeding up upon noticing that you had relaxed a bit. In other words, he made sure you felt comfortable the whole time, and now he was also checking in on you verbally. You were surprised by how well this was going considering how unsure you’d been about this choice.
“Yeah, I’m fine!” you spoke loudly in the hope of your voice carrying over the cacophony of traffic noise around you. With a growing grin, you added, “More than fine, actually. This is crazy!” Jason was thinking of a reply when the stoplight turned green, effectively interrupting your conversation.
Butterflies swarmed your stomach as you leaned into him, arms wrapped around him securely. Hands holding onto his front, you took notice of the warmth that seeped through the material of his black compression shirt. You couldn’t help but wonder how many days a week this man must have gone to work out to be this fucking ripped. Even from afar, it had been impossible to miss his size, but actually feeling the hard planes of muscle hidden beneath his clothes gave you a different kind of impression on just how built this man was.
Time flew by quickly. When Jason eventually dropped you off at the same gas station that he met you—he felt like it would be creepy to ask you where you lived, and your car was parked there anyway—the adrenaline was still pumping through your veins like a river of ecstasy.
Your breath was erratic as you warned him that you would get off the back of his bike now, just as he had told you to. Communication was key between the driver and backpacker. You wouldn’t want him to lose balance and let the bike fall to the ground. He likely wouldn’t have made a fuss about it, even if you did, though.
Standing on your own two feet after the addictive feeling of speeding through the streets with him felt weird. Your shaky fingers began fumbling with your helmet, and mere seconds later, Jason stood right in front of you. Noticing your struggle, he silently helped you. Your blown eyes were locked on him the entire time as he slipped it off your head. With him this close, you could smell the dizzying scent of his cologne: leather, musk, and something irresistibly warm that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. It smelled almost like gunpowder, but you doubted that with how sweet this man had been to you. Either way, he smelled absolutely to die for.
You ran your fingers through your hair to fix it, and Jason watched you closely. The corners of his mouth tugged up into an amused smirk. Fuck, you were too cute.
“Thank you. That was the most fun I’ve had in a while.” You sounded so gentle, so sincere in your gratitude. It wasn’t even a big deal, really, nothing that demanded much effort on his part. Still, it clearly made you happy, and he found himself feeling unreasonably accomplished by that, which was stupid, because he didn’t know you.
Jason should have reminded himself of that. He didn’t.
After he took off his own helmet, you could finally take a good look at the entirety of his face, and it was actually embarrassing how affected you were by it. The gorgeous green eyes you had seen before, but his dark, perfectly disheveled hair alongside the faint, jagged scar on his face piqued your interest in the man.
He was gorgeous, undeniably so.
You wanted to find out more about Jason, wanted to see if he had other scars or birthmarks hidden beneath the fabric of his protective gear, wanted to ride with him again. Of course, the more debauched side of your brain couldn’t help but think of wanting to ride him too, but that unfitting thought was quickly banished into the back of your traitorous mind. Even briefly imagining that with him right in front of you, fuck, that was a horrible idea, worse than climbing onto a stranger’s motorcycle.
“Any time…” Jason trailed off, a subtle inquiry of your name. Snapping out of your thoughts, you giggled at his smoothness. The man, who had died and come back to life, swore he felt something that he’d never felt before. An odd sensation of warmth spread through his chest. Illogical. Entirely unfounded. What was up with him?
You told him your name softly, and Jason repeated it back to you like he was testing the way it sounded rolling off his tongue. “Jason.” The curt response would have seemed aloof, if it weren’t for the evident interest shining in those emerald depths of his. “Well, thank you then, Jason,” you said with a sweet smile. Your heart was pounding wildly against your ribcage, and you knew that that wasn’t just the aftershocks of residual adrenaline.
Internally, you wondered if you should ask him for his number. Then you cringed at how awkward it would be if he told you no, if he said that he had a girlfriend and this was just him trying to be nice earlier. “Okay, I should—” You didn’t even finish your sentence, because he spoke up at the same time as you did, “Could I—” The air between you seemed static as you nodded at Jason to say what he wanted to first. “Could I get your number?” All right, girlfriend theory debunked then, you guessed.
He cleared his throat, trying to tamp down the tension he had created with the intense, deep timbre of his voice. Jason licked his lips before adding, “So we could… do this again, you know. If you’d like.” Wait, was he shy?
Jason didn’t want to come on too strong or make you feel like this was him expecting your number in return for his favor. It wasn’t like you owed him anything! He wasn’t an asshole like that. But you didn’t think that anyway.
The smile on your face broadened into an even more radiant one, and Jason had an inkling that he would grow to love this grin of yours. “Sure, I would love that. Maybe we could go to the library next time.” You inclined your head downward and chuckled bashfully, realizing how unspectacular of a place that sounded like. Leave it to you to suggest to the hot biker you met to go to the freaking library of all places. “I mean, if you don’t find that too boring. My aunt runs a library. I help out every once in a while, so I like the quiet there.”
Jason might have just found the woman of his dreams.
“No, no, I don’t find that boring at all,” he said, and when you lifted your head, you could tell by the look on his face alone that he meant what he said. Your eyes darted across his pretty face, teeth tugging at your bottom lip like that could contain your giddiness.
Jason might have been the man of your dreams too.
He gave you his phone, and you couldn’t believe that this was actually happening to you, as you typed your number into the phone of the handsome biker you met only today. The owner of the prettiest green eyes and the most attractive voice you ever had the pleasure of beholding. And he liked to read, apparently. It was like this man had stumbled right out of a romance novel.
Handing his phone back to him, you looked up at Jason through your eyelashes. “Call me.” Such bold words, yet coming out of the mouth of a sweet thing like you, they didn’t sound half as provocative as they should have.
Oh, Jason was definitely going to call you.
em’s masterlist | jason todd masterlist wc: 2.2k request: no
˙⋆✮ a/n: this was inspired by sth that happened to me this week lol. lowk don’t like ts, but i’ll post it anyway, bc i don’t want to scrap the fic. and also again, this is a drabble that turned into a one-shot. like, ugh, guys, i cannot write short stuff for the life of me 😭😭 this isn’t even acc long to me, but it’s definitely also not drabble-kinda short ykwim
taglists down below! to be added to one, check out... taglist
all my works: @sxphr2 @champagnesbiggestproblem @slut4hotppl @6000-fandoms @starr-jazz @therealmoonstone
all dc comics works: @arfemiz @starrydustedwinter @jaydennicole @loserinadress @darkxwolfsstuff @kh4dij7 @boldpandaangel @shy-guy927 @trash4changkyun @waltermis @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx
bruce wayne doesn't know how to be exes. doesn't know how to act like an ex husband, doesn't know how to function without you either. its just been 6 months since your divorce. you both decided it was for the best, something about him focusing on crime rates in gotham rather than focusing on you, his wife.
and no, you didn't just sit back and take the neglect. god, no. you put the divorce papers on his desk, the noise of the folder hitting it echoing as a slap, and? well..he respected your decsion.
but he also missed you, terribly. missed that fire. and so after making up some pathetic excuse of coming over to your apartment to 'drop something you left', he was now on your bed, having you spread out on all fours so prettily, his cock teased your swollen bud from behind, leaving you whining.
bruce speaks first "missed you baby.. missed this pussy." he speaks in that gruff voice of his. the voice you've heard so many times before.
you roll your eyes, the very same fire he fell for in the first place, "prove it then."
and that was it. bruce pushes into your wetness, you groan at the stretch as he bottoms out with a groan. the delicious fullness of it all coaxed a moan out of you as the filthy sound of wet skin slapping echoed throughout the room. his head repeatedly hitting that sweet spot, feeling like ecstasy. you could feel the veins, feel every pulse, feel every little drop of pre cum that dripped from his sensitive tip. his arm comes up, wrapping around your waist as he pounds into you from behind, hands working their way up to your tits. "gonna marry you again" bruce grunts in your ear while fucking you into oblivion.
bruce wayne doesn't know how to be exes. how could he?
| A/N: I feel like I've seen this idea on tumblr already, but I'm unsure who started it 😭 pls lmk and I will give credit!! <3
✧ Whipped!JasonTodd who won’t let you get out of bed in the morning. Every time you try, his arms just wrap possessively around your waist and pulls you right back against him. You tell him off in between laughs as you try to wiggle out of his grasp, but he only smiles sleepily and hugs you tighter.
✧ Whipped!JasonTodd who buys you a bike helmet that looks exactly like his, so now you can match. He'll roll his eyes if you make a big deal out of it, but the smile doesn't leave his face.
✧ Whipped!JasonTodd who has your picture as his phone background, as well as a picture of you in his wallet. He likes it when you send him new selfies, taking a minute to just look over your features and feel the warmth it brings to his chest. More than half the photos in his phone library are either ones of you, or saved relationship memes you sent him.
✧ Whipped!JasonTodd who uses a strip of photo booth pictures as his bookmark. Four monochrome pictures of the both of you, happy and in love, each one mushier than the next. It makes him feel some type of way when he buries it in between the pages of a classic romance.
✧ Whipped!JasonTodd who puts your favorite books on the top of his reading list. He’ll read each chapter with extra care, like he’s doing it through your eyes. He knows exactly which parts made you cry, and which made you laugh. He knows which scene it was that officially solidified the book's place among your all-time favorites.
You ask Jason if you can do the same one day-if he can tell you what his favorite novels are so you can get a tiny glimpse into his mind- and he just gets whipped all over again.
summary: Bruce Wayne doesn't say 'I love you' after a fight and regrets it.
pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader
tags and warnings: description of car accidents, blood, ambulance, also Bruce pulls out his IV drip (don't do that irl pls), maybe inaccuracies, Bruce Wayne cries, maybe OOC, also sleepy af so there might be mistakes
bruce wayne mlist
Life is fragile.
No one knows that more than Bruce Wayne.
And so he absolutely does everything he can — from contingency plans with their own contingency plans — Bruce Wayne does everything a man can possibly do.
But life is fragile.
You and Bruce fought last night. It was not all that uncommon in your marriage of ten years, but this was different. It had ended with you sleeping in the guest bedroom.
The truth was, both of you hadn't slept that night.
You knew things would be different the next morning — you missed the early morning cuddles, the way Bruce looked peaceful with his eyes closed and hair all around the place, the way his hand was firm around your hips even while he was asleep.
There was one practice the both of you had been following since your time dating — never to skip breakfast. It was simple, the first meal of the day was to be eaten together at the table. The ritual came about as the result of both your professions — Bruce having to be at Wayne Enterprises and you at your own business — there was only really so much time you could spend in the presence of each other.
The ritual was disrupted today.
Bruce had left without sparing you a single glance, only a comment to Alfred about having breakfast at the company's cafeteria. The mahogany doors slam shut with a sharp bang — just as sharp as the icicle pricking your heart.
Usually, the ritual ended with him murmuring the three sacred words along with a kiss to your forehead.
But today was different.
You take a deep breath, swallowing the brick scratching at your throat. Tears pool along your water line, threatening to breach your eyelid even as you tip your head upward, gazing at the glinting chandelier. But they slide past your eyelids regardless, then against your cheek, and fall onto the stack of honey-glazed pancakes on the porcelain plate.
The manor was silent like it was holding its breath. Alfred stood at the corner, posture straight, but you could feel his gaze on you. Placing the cutlery back with a slight clack against the napkin, the wooden chair scratches against the marble floors as you stand up. You shook your head, a small curve on your lips, but you were fooling no one, let alone Alfred.
"Thanks, Alfred, I'm running a little late or else I would've finished it." Even before the words resound in the almost empty room, you scramble towards the staircase, voice cracking as you bring your palm to your mouth.
Alfred sighs, watching your hunched figure, racked with suppressed sobs, disappear into the distant hallways.
The expensive nappa leather of the passenger seat seems to itch at his suit clad skin as his body leans forwards, gripping under his seats with his knuckles white. It was almost like everything around him was trying to remind him of what he had done in the past hour. Sinking back again into the cushion, his phone lights up with a notification from his assistant, but all he could see was the wallpaper.
A photo of both of you at the wedding.
You were laughing at something he had said with your head tipped back, eyes crinkled into crescent moons, all while Bruce was just gazing at you, a small smile on his lips. It had been his favorite photo from all of the wedding ceremonies and almost served as a reminder — a reminder to uphold his promise of keeping you always happy with that same smile he fell in love with.
But today he hadn't.
Today, he had broken your heart.
Bruce sighs, pinching his nose before he decides he needs to turn back. He needs to go back to the Wayne Manor. To his home. To your arms.
" Please turn around towards —" Just as the words slip from his mouth, everything changes.
See, Bruce has a contingency plan for everything. Something he made sure to have after witnessing his parents being killed, the spiral of his best friend — Harvey Dent, Jason's death and many more incidents during his lifetime. He is well prepared for most of life's obstacles, but after years of being Batman, a small, fragile confidence develops, nestled into the crook of his mind, that one often forgets life is as unpredictable as it is predictable.
One moment, Bruce's fingers are wrapped around the rectangular electronic device gleaming against the black material of the seats. The next moment, he is up in the air, his head lolled back as it hits against the roof of the car.
It happens just as fast as it happens slowly because all Bruce Wayne could think of was you.
You — the light of his life, the sun to his moon, the rainbow amongst dark clouds — You.
The mind is a very powerful thing.
Though physically in the following seconds he finds himself squished against the passenger door, Bruce couldn't feel the pain. Because the past decade of his life flashes through his eyes — from the moment he saw you at the Gala, dressed in a dark blue satin gown and that gorgeous smile on his face, to the moment he asked you out a few months later, to nights spent under cotton duvets and tangled legs to eating breakfast together everyday to the day he wed the love of his life to yesterday when he had ignored you to a couple of hours back when he did not say the three words he wished he did — before turning to an endless abyss.
Bruce Wayne wakes up on a bed — no, something similar but a lot less comfortable. The sounds of beeping and hushed voices fill his senses. There's movement in the corner of his eyes as a woman wraps his arm in a bandage. He tries to move, tries to remember what had happened. As he squints again, his blurry vision starts to restore, and he can finally see the paramedic running tests. Almost like being pricked by a thorn, flashes of what had happened earlier today embraced his senses instead, and all Bruce wanted to do was to see you. To touch you. To feel you in his arms.
"Mr Wayne, please, you need—" the paramedic on board lays a hand against his chest in hopes of pushing him back against the cotton, but all it does is make Bruce more anxious. His chest heaves as he pulls on the IV drip from his forearm.
"I need to see my wife. " Bruce's voice is hoarse, etched with dryness. It pains him a little to even utter the words, but the want of your presence is far greater. There is a slight ringing in his ears as he sits upright at once. Bruce could sense that the paramedic was saying something to him, her hands hovering over his, but he couldn't make out the words.
All Bruce wanted was to see you.
"I need to see my wife," he repeats, chest heaving like the world was on his chest, and perhaps it was — the weight of his guilt was equivalent to the entire world.
" I NEED HER."
The doors slam open with a hiss as Bruce Wayne slips out with his hand still on his abdomen. The pristine white dress shirt is now unbuttoned, red seeping through the fabric. His hair is ruffled with tiny grey splotches across his face, accompanied by tiny scratches along his exposed skin. Blue eyes squeeze at the sudden intrusion of the morning rays of the sun as his vision adjusts to the nearby crowd of onlookers consisting of concerned citizens and reporters.
For the first time, the media sees the billionaire in a frenzy.
He hunches a little before walking to the unrestricted sidewalk, ignoring the yells of his name as flashes of light hit his frame. Police officers try to convince the man to get back into the ambulance, but to no avail.
Bruce flags down a cab, the driver rushing away from the scene as the crowd grows smaller and smaller in the side mirror.
You were in the library, working on a presentation for your company, when you heard the roaring voice of your husband, echoing against the thick walls. It was almost next to impossible to hear anything through the walls, especially so deep into the manor. You swiftly place the book back onto the shelf before running down the halls.
"WHERE IS MY WIFE?" Bruce yells, hand over his abdomen, as deep blue eyes trail over the room.
"Master Bruce —" Alfred tries to get Bruce to just sit, eyes wide as he sees the man he has raised covered in blood. Injuries don't faze Alfred. He was used to blood, but when that happened during the daytime. During the time Bruce was just a billionaire, something shifted in his chest.
"I asked where —"
"Bruce."
A hush falls across the room as Bruce swiftly turns to the source of the sound. There you were, standing at the bottom of the staircase, in a pair of sweatpants and his shirt. His shirt. Your beautiful eyes were wide, glazed with sheen as you looked at your husband.
"Bruce, what happened?" you whisper, hands covering your mouth as a tear slips down your cheek. Within seconds, Bruce had pulled you into his chest, his neck tucked between the curve of your neck and shoulder blade as he sobs into your shoulder, his hand clutching at the fabric of your shirt.
"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He mumbles, pressing further into you like he still couldn't feel your presence. The red of his shirt seeps into your clothes as you rub his back. You wanted to tell him it was okay, but all you could feel was a sob bubbling in your throat.
"I love you," Bruce whispers, cupping your face as his finger slides against the tear tracks on your cheek. “More than anything in this world.”
You push back his hair, a little sweaty, as you cup his face and give him a kiss on the forehead. You offer him a smile — the same one he fell in love with as you whisper while slinging his arm over your shoulders.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up."
A/N: tried writing this for like two days and here it is!
thinking about how clingy wally west is. he couldn't seem to keep his hands off you, even at two in the morning.
"wallyyuhh," you groaned, feigning annoyance. wally ignored you and threw a leg over yours, kicking the blankets away. "wally, it's hot, and you're basically a human furnace!"
once again, the redhead had nothing to say, burying his face further into your hair. you'd caught a glimpse of him earlier; cheeks flushed pink, just like his bare chest and shoulders, constellations of freckles and moles standing out against the dusted rose. you knew he was hot, too, even as he tightened his arms around you. he just couldn't let go of you!
"mmh... i love you, 's all," he mumbles sleepily, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. "don't w'na let y'go."
you sigh. "i love you too, walls."
man, your boyfriend was a handful, but you sure do love him.
Summary: Far too exhausted to make it to bed, Bruce crashes on the cozy armchair in his study. You join him.
Warning: None! Pure fluff featuring a very tired Batman and his wife :)
Author’s Note: A little nervous since this is my first time writing for Bruce, but I hope you guys enjoy! As always, please let me know if you liked this and would like to see more! Comments, reblogs, or even asks are always appreciated <3
DC Masterlist
Bruce’s body felt heavy.
Patrol ran longer than he originally anticipated, and the evidence of his exhaustion was visible in the drag of his feet as he made his way up from the cave into his study. He was tempted to stay down there and fall asleep at his computer, but how could he sleep down there when you were more than likely half asleep yourself, tiredly awaiting his return to your bed?
The floorboards creak under his step, and he pauses momentarily, bracing against one of the bookshelves. “Are you alright, Master Bruce?” Alfred asks, reaching for the man’s arm and guiding him to the oversized armchair nearby. “Perhaps you should sit down.”
“I’m alright.” The words leave his mouth with a heavy sigh, failing to reassure the butler like he wanted as he sinks into the cushion. The adrenaline of the night had worn off long before he got home, but now that he wasn’t moving, he could feel every ache in his bones. “Get some rest, Alfred. I’ll be right behind you. I…just need a minute.”
“If you insist, sir,” the butler says, knowing that anything other than an agreement would fall on deaf ears.
Bruce watches Alfred quietly slip out of the study and shut the door behind him through half-hooded eyes. Just a minute, he reminded himself as the room’s newfound darkness, with the exception of the dim glow of the lamp in the corner, weighed on him. His eyelids felt droopy, his arms felt heavy, and his back throbbed in pain.
He didn’t want to move; he wasn’t entirely sure if he even could, but he did know that you were waiting for him, and all that he could see when he closed his eyes was you, cocooned in the duvet, greeting him with the sleepiest smile and a kiss.
His mind drifts off, thinking about you upstairs: were you awake? It was well past four in the morning by now, but he knew the possibility of your anxiety letting you rest without knowing he was safe, regardless if he was in bed with you or not, was slim. What were you wearing tonight? When he left for patrol, you were still in your pretty sun dress. Did you change into one of his shirts after you showered? Or did you opt for a slip tonight? Or maybe you were wearing the short pink pajama set you bought a few weeks ago?
His breathing slows, and he manages to muster up the last bit of his energy to take off both the cowl and cape, lazily draping them over the arm of the chair before fully leaning back against the headrest. His eyes grow heavier with each passing moment until his body surrenders to exhaustion, allowing him to rest his tired mind and aching body.
—
One of your hands grips the railing of the staircase tightly while the other rubs sleep from your eyes. The sun was beginning to rise, and with no sign of your husband, so was your anxiety. You could hear the sound of your heart beating in your ear over the creaks of the floors as you descended down the stairs.
Batman operated at all hours of the night and well into the morning, whether he was out on patrol or not. Your husband was more than likely in the cave working on a demanding case, completely drained and in desperate need of a cup of coffee. At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself because the alternative made your stomach twist into knots.
He had gotten a lot better at coming to bed since the two of you got together. At the start of your relationship—and post vigilante identity reveal—it was rare that he’d make it to bed with you. Prior to moving into the manor, you rented an apartment near city hall, and during that time you would awake to a very sleepy (and bloody, depending on how the night went) vigilante abusing the tiny first aid kit you kept and crashing on your sofa. After moving into the manor, you had grown used to the sight of him face down in front of the computer, surrounded by case files and a blanket Alfred would put over him.
That’s how you hoped to find Bruce tonight.
Exhausted but home.
Your feet pad across the wooden floor, only stopping once you reach the door to the study and slowly open it. The light from the rising sun and from the lamp inside illuminates the room enough for you to make out the shape of your husband, slumped against one of the armchairs.
A soft smile forms on your face as you step into the room and hear his low snores. You study his face for a moment, drinking in the slight part of his lips and the way his features relax. There was no tense jaw or furrowed brows; there was only rest and traces of fatigue courtesy of the bags under his eyes.
“Oh, honey,” you whisper, brushing the few strands of hair out of his face.
The last thing you wanted was to wake him, but you also knew that his back would be killing him in the morning. “Honey,” you say a little louder, shaking his shoulder in an attempt to get him up. “Cmon, baby. Let’s get you to bed.”
You expected it to work. You’ve seen him shoot up with ease the second one of the kids tried to wake him. He would jolt out of bed with complete awareness and brief panic. But this was different. He was leaning into your touch, pressing his shoulder against your palm in his sleep.
It was obvious to you that waking him was a losing battle and that you’d be hearing about his back pain in the morning. So with delicate but precise hands, you reach for his blue gloves, gently sliding them off his hands and setting them on the end table. Your fingers ghost over the buckle of his utility belt next, but his hand loosely wraps around your wrist before you get the chance to undo it.
Your eyes dart to his face, watching as he repeatedly tries and fails to keep his eyes open. “It’s just me,” you say softly. “Just taking off the belt so you can be comfortable.”
He drops his hand at the sound of your voice, letting you unbuckle and remove the belt from around his hips. “Sweetheart?” he rasps out.
“Yeah?”
Bruce stretches his arm out, groaning in the process. “C’mere.”
“How about you come upstairs?” You suggest, bending at the waist and resting your palms on his thighs to support yourself. The muscle jumps under your touch, and a subtle frown graces his face.
“Can’t. Carry me.”
You giggle at the mental image his words paint: you carrying big ol’ Batman up a flight of stairs. “I’ll need at least three of me to do that,” you joke, moving your palm from his thigh to push his chest down until his body goes lax and sinks back into the chair.
He mumbles something that you can’t quite make out and reaches for you, situating his hands on your hips and tugging you into his lap. “Stay then.” He shuffles around, adjusting you in his lap until he finds a comfortable position for both of you to sit in.
Your legs were hanging off the arm of the chair, and your head rested in the crook of his neck. He kept you close, with one hand draped around your waist and the other holding the side of your leg. “You’re wearing the set,” he murmurs, touching the hem of your sleep shorts.
“I am,” you hum, stretching your hand behind you to grab hold of his cape, haphazardly covering both your bodies as best you could. “Missed you.”
His hand slides down from your waist to your hip and lightly squeezes it. “Missed you too.”
“Go back to sleep,” you whisper, tilting your head up to kiss his jaw. “Alfred and the kids will be up before we know it.”
"And you?" he grumbles.
You snuggle further into his hold. "I'll be right here."
Synopsis: It started as a nuisance, your kitten always invading Jason’s apartment, but somewhere along the way, Jason began hoping it would happen again, just to see you at his doorstep.
Pairing: Jason Todd X Reader
Words: 5.8k
I named the cat Poe because I think it's a cute name :( and since its also a poet's name, I thought it could be a nice one since Jason loves literature in general :p
Btw I was actually thinking about writing a part 2 because I had some other ideas in mind while writing it. I want to explore a bit more the relationship between Jason and reader. Let me know if you could be interested in a second part or not :>
Not proofread for now
Part 2 here
Living in Gotham was hard. The crime rate was high, danger being in every corner of each street. Living in Gotham was pricey. Finding a job was hard, especially one that paid well. You had to make sacrifices to live in that kind of city.
So here you were, living near Crime Alley, with a small job at a bakery down the street, worried that each turn you would take could be your last. The job didn't paid well, but it was paying the rent and your coworkers were really kind to you.
You were trying your best to make that small and cheap apartment the most homey you could, trying to forget about the fact that you were living in the worst part of the city with nice plants in the living room, some posters and photos of friends and family on the walls, little touches of colours in your furniture to make it feel more lively.
But the real touch of warmth wasn't a decoration or a plant, but the smallest kitten you had ever seen. Poe.
The kitten had always been around in the street, always asking for some love and cuddles when your paths met. And you ended up adopting the small creature, even if it felt more like the opposite sometimes. It's like the kitty chose you.
So here you were, in that shitty apartment with your furry baby boy.
Poe was a small kitten, and a very curious one, always trying to discover new places in your apartment. And as much as you loved that he was feeling adventurous and not scared, you ended up being the one worried.
He had a habit of always disappearing when you opened the door to your very small but still present balcony. The first few months, you were worried sick, thinking he would be gone forever, getting back to the stray life. But little Poe was always coming back after a few hours, smelling like smoke and being contented with himself.
You ended up assuming he was probably just being curious and was walking around, finding new spots for him to rest or whatever a kitten his age was thinking.
Little did you know, he wasn't going as far as you thought he was. Poe was actually just a floor downstairs, getting pet by one of your neighbours, Jason.
Jason Todd, the pretty neighbour, the one who made you stutter a bit when you were seeing each other briefly in the corridor. It wasn't that you were necessarily shy, he was just very good at making you lose your composure. Even the old ladies in the building were getting all flustered when he was greeting them. It was a funny sight to see.
And it seemed that even your cat wasn't immune to his charm.
The door of Jason's balcony was almost always open when he was there, one of the main reasons was to not make his apartment smell like blood and gunpowder. He wanted it to still feel like home in a way and not a place just to sleep. He wanted to have his space. A space to call his, even if it was hard sometimes to make it feel like it.
So what was his surprise when he saw, once he finally finished cooking and turned around to set it on the only plate he owned, the smallest kitten looking at him with those big eyes, tail flicking.
Jason's first thought was to chase him away as gently as he could, thinking the cat was only there for the food.
But after so many failed attempts to make the small creature leave, Jason just ended up scooping the kitten in his arms and putting him on his lap while he was eating, petting from time to time the furry head, earning some cute purrs.
And that's how those nightly visits began, offering Jason a well deserved but unexpected rest.
--
You were finally home after a long shift today. You had a hard time waking up this morning, making you almost late for the early shift at the bakery. Some clients were being rude for no reason. The year ending soon was probably making everyone stressed.
So being home meant finally having peace and being able to cuddle Poe. Once your coat was off and your shoes were thrown somewhere in the living room, you didn't waste time to find your cute baby lying down on the couch, waiting for your return.
"Hi, baby, I missed you." You cooed at the kitten before you scooped him in your arms, nuzzling your nose in his little furry face, smiling as you heard him miaow.
"Missed me too? I know, it must have been such a long day without someone to cuddle you, right?" You asked him as you scratched his small ears, feeling him purr against your chest.
--
After half an hour of just cuddling Poe and just lying down to unwind the stress of the day. But your stomach had another idea, rumbling so loudly it startled Poe, making him lift his small head, looking at you with a confused face.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm allowed to be hungry." You said while putting him down, letting him finally be free from the cuddle time.
You stood up, opened the balcony's door, allowing Poe to have his adventure time of the day before you started to cook something simple but comforting for dinner.
It only took five minutes for Poe to leave for his usual visit to a certain someone.
--
Jason was sprawled on his couch, doom scrolling on his phone. He didn't have patrol tonight, one of the few nights where he could rest.
But his alone time was cut short when he heard a small miaow from his balcony. Jason didn't need to look to know it was his night buddy waiting for him, right in front of the wide open door, to pick him up.
With a small sigh, he stood up, walked to the kitten, before scooping him up and going back to lying down on his worn out couch. "Hey buddy, you really need me to get you each time? You're a big guy, you can enter without my help." Jason said as he scratched his furry friend's chin, making your cat nudge his head against Jason's chest.
"You just want to be held, huh? Can't blame you." Jason just smirked. "I was going to watch a film, want to keep me company, little guy?" He asked the kitten, smiling slightly when it earned him a small purr.
"I'll take that as a yes."
--
You had the time to make dinner, eat it, and take a long hot shower, and Poe was still not here. You didn't want to panic, but he never took that long, often quickly missing the warmth of your home and the love that came from your soft touch.
But minutes passed, and you were walking anxiously around your living room, with scenarios getting worse and worse coming into your mind.
What if he fell? What if someone with bad intentions found him? What if... no, you shouldn't think so negatively. He was safe. He had to be safe.
So with a shaky voice, you started to call out for him, standing on your balcony and looking around, hoping to see a glimpse of his tiny body somewhere.
"Poe? Baby, where are you?" You said it rather loudly for him to hear you, but your voice was so shaky it felt like you were seconds away from breaking down in tears, which was true.
--
Your voice was echoing through the fire escape of the building, making Poe lift his head from Jason’s chest, blinking slowly to wake up from his nap, before turning his head in all directions, alerted by the sound of your voice calling out for him.
Jason raised an eyebrow at the cat before shaking his head. "Someone's worried for you, little guy." He scooped him up as he made his way to his front door.
He went up the stairs and knocked on your door. Not that he knew Poe was yours from the beginning. But he had an intuition the cat was yours. Most people living here were either old persons or people that didn't sound as sweet as you while calling for a cat. So he just assumed that it would be yours.
The moment you opened the door, looking so worried and ready to cry, he couldn't help the way his heart squeezed when he saw the relief on your face the moment your eyes caught the kitten in his arms.
"Poe..." You said breathlessly, hands shaking at your side.
"This yours?" He asked as he showed the cat. As you nodded, he passed it to you before shrugging his shoulders. "He's been sneaking around for months, didn't know he had someone waiting for him." He explained.
You hugged your cat so close to you, whispering sweet nothings in his ears before looking back at Jason with a big smile, finally feeling lighter now that you had your furry baby in your arms.
"Thank you for taking care of him, I didn't know you were the one he was going to. But I'm glad he was safe." You said softly.
"Well, he's good company, I can't say I'm complaining he went to me." Jason said casually as he looked at the way the kitten was nuzzling into your neck, looking so comfy now that he was in your loving embrace.
"If the little guy ever disappears again, he's probably at mine." He continued. "I really owe you, I was worried sick." You whispered, the fear still clinging to your voice even if you knew your cat was safe.
"No need, it's a pleasure to have him around, makes the night less lonely."
You just smile at his words before holding Poe even closer. "Thank you." You said softly, your eyes taking in every little detail of his face. It wasn't every day that you could see him for that long.
Up close, Jason was different than you imagined. His eyes caught you off guard first, blue with a faint green tint, the kind that seemed unsure where to rest, like he was not used to being looked at for too long. When they met yours, he didn’t look away immediately, but there was hesitation there, a careful stillness. You noticed small things without meaning to, a thin scar near his brow, another along his jaw, the white patch of hair. You didn't ask. It felt too personal for a first conversation.
His face was tired in a quiet way, softened by the low light and the absence of tension you had seen on him in passing. When he shifted, the fabric of his shirt pulled over broad shoulders that seemed built for carrying more than they could. Yet right now, he felt approachable, more human, even a little nervous. His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, scarred and rough-looking, but careful, like he was worried about making the wrong move.
The silence between you wasn't uncomfortable. It was slow, gentle, filled with the sound of Poe’s breathing and the shared awareness that something small but meaningful was happening. This isn’t a dramatic moment, just two neighbors finally seeing each other clearly for the first time, and realizing that maybe this quiet, fragile connection was worth holding onto.
"No problem, have a good night." Jason said after a moment before starting to walk back to his own apartment.
The moment you closed the door, you had a dumb smile on your face. You didn't expect him to be that sweet.
And in his apartment, his back against his front door, Jason couldn't help but look at his feet, his brain replaying the way your eyes softened at the view of your cat, safe and sound in his arms. If he had known you were that pretty up close, he would have done something way sooner.
Guess it wasn't a bad thing at all that Poe decided to come visit him. He could get a cuddle buddy for when the nights were too cold and too lonely. And he had a reason to talk to the cute neighbour upstairs now.
"Thanks Poe..." Jason murmured to himself with the ghost of a smile on his lips.
--
You wanted to thank Jason properly. He had been so sweet to your kitten that you wanted to show him how grateful you were.
You weren't really sure how. But the idea of baking him something sweet wasn't a bad one.
Everyone loved sweets. At least in your mind. But what if he was a rare exception? Maybe he hated it so much that he wouldn't be happy at all to receive that.
That's how you ended up baking and cooking all weekend for your pretty neighbour, making as many possibilities as you could.
You ended up settling for some cinnamon rolls, and in case he didn't like anything sugar related, you cooked some mashed potatoes, meat and vegetables.
Now was the time to give it to him. And it was the harder step in your mind.
But with all the courage you had, you kissed Poe on the head and went down with your plastic containers.
You took a big breath and finally knocked on the door, heart beating so loudly in your ears that you were a bit startled when you saw the door opening to show his large frame taking all the space of the door frame.
"Need something?" He asked you, his voice low as he eyed the food in your hands.
"Not really. I just wanted to thank you. You know, for being Poe's buddy." You spoke a bit too quickly.
"I wasn't sure what you liked so I made cinnamon rolls, mashed potatoes, some meat and vegetables." You saw his eyes widen before a small smirk appeared on his lips.
"All that for me? Damn, that cat must be important for you." He shook his head before leaning his body against the doorframe, crossing his arms around his chest.
You just shrugged your shoulders, trying to act unbothered by the way he was looking a little too good right now.
"It's the least I could do. That's really nothing."
"Well, thank you, neighbour. I appreciate it." He said before taking the containers filled with delicious food from your offering hands.
You smiled a bit at his words before putting your hands in your pockets, not so sure about what you were supposed to do with them.
"I... I should go, it's getting late. I hope you will like it. Have a good evening, neighbour." You waved at him as you were starting to make your way back to the stairs, using the same nickname he used for you.
--
Tonight's patrol was relatively quiet. Nothing that bad happened. Just some dumb ones who thought they could outrun vigilantes.
Quiet nights in Gotham always felt suspicious to Jason. Like the city was holding its breath, waiting for something worse to crawl out of the shadows. But hours passed with nothing more than sloppy criminals and half-hearted chases across rooftops slick with old rain. Jason took them down efficiently, movements automatic, muscle memory guiding him more than thought.
It was quiet until his big brother decided that right now was a good time to bother him a bit in that big brother way.
"So... you're awfully quiet tonight. And calmer. What happened?" Dick asked, his voice carrying something light and teasing.
Jason just hummed, the sound softer since he was wearing his helmet.
Dick wrapped his arm around Jason's broad shoulders. "Look! You're not being your usual self. You're supposed to be pissed at me when I get like that. Is it something? Someone?" He said the last word while wiggling his eyebrows.
The moment he felt Jason's shoulders tense at that, Dick never felt happier in his life, knowing he had found the thing to tease him with tonight.
"Ooh... so it is someone."
"Shut up, Dickhead. There's no one." Jason pushed himself away from Dick's arm.
"You sure? Look at you, getting all defensive." Dick continued to push. Tonight was so boring that he couldn't let the only interesting thing get wasted.
"There's no one, it's just.." He trailed off, not sure if he should say it to Dick. Not that he didn't trust him. Things were just different from before. From before his death. And even if his relationships with the whole family had been better, especially with his brothers, it felt sometimes too vulnerable to open up.
Admitting things meant giving them weight. Making them real. And Jason wasn’t sure he was ready for that.
Vulnerability had gotten him killed once. Or at least, that was what the voice in the back of his head always whispered.
But Dick wasn’t looking at him like he was waiting to pounce. His expression had softened, teasing dimmed just enough to make room for something genuine.
And with the look he was giving him, Jason thought that maybe it wouldn't be that bad to open up a bit.
"I just have a nice neighbour, that's all." Jason mumbled, feeling way too embarrassed for something so small. He just wasn't so used to being vulnerable in front of his big brother.
"A nice neighbour? That's all?" Dick sighed. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that for sure.
But Dick's mind quickly had an illumination. There was no way a nice neighbour would make Jason that way.
"Nice neighbour as in, nice old lady? Or as in, nice neighbour that is sweet but also nice to the eyes?" Dick asked, hoping to catch something a bit more crispy.
Jason looked at him, silent for a moment, before his gaze went back to the street below them.
He thought of the way you smiled when you talked about your day. The way your shoulders relaxed when you laughed. The faint warmth that lingered in the hallway when your door closed again. The way your skin was so warm against his when your fingers were brushing against each other by mistake.
"Nice to the eyes too, I suppose. They have a kitten. Little shit's always coming to my apartment."
Dick gasped way too dramatically for such information before patting Jason's back. "A pretty neighbour and some kitten made you soft? That's the best news of the week." Dick's laugh carried through the empty rooftops in the late night.
Jason grumbled but didn't say anything back. He wasn't sure if soft was the right word. But he did feel more at peace when the small creature was around. And even if you two talked for a short amount of time, you still made his body and mind at ease for whatever mysterious reason.
You just had this softness in you. It was hard to feel anything negative towards you. That's all. You weren't making him soft. Not at all. It was just a natural reaction. Right?
The rest of patrol passed without incident. Dick kept throwing him knowing looks. Jason ignored them.
Jason didn't do feelings. And he wasn't going to start now.
But as he went to bed that night, the last thing he thought was that he was hoping he would see you and Poe soon.
And that thought alone annoyed him more than anything else.
--
One evening, a few days after that night, Jason was lying down on his couch, Poe on his chest, playing with the strings of his hoodie.
It had been an unproductive day. No work, no case, nothing. Just a needy kitten that came an hour ago and asked for some cuddles.
"I really need to get you some toys. Can't have you get all bored and destroy my things for fun when you're here." Jason said his voice was way too sweet as he talked to the furry baby.
Poe just purred like he wasn't opposed at all to the idea. More toys meant more fun.
Jason looked at him, his finger nudging lightly his small head as Poe tried to attack it, his small paw grazing his finger with each movement he was doing to reach Jason's hand.
"So fucking cute." Jason mumbled with a light smile. "Cutest shit I ever saw." He shook his head and let out a breathy laugh when the kitten nudged his nose against Jason's hand.
"Guess Dick was right, I'm getting soft because of you." He sighed before putting his arm in front of his eyes, getting deep in his thoughts.
He would probably buy some food, toys and a bowl for the kitten before work tomorrow. So if Poe was coming back tomorrow, and he probably will, the small creature seemed attached to Jason now, he would have things here too. Like a second home.
That thought made him smile before he sighed, putting his arm away, his gaze falling to the leftovers on the table.
Since the day you gave him food to thank him, it became a habit for you to feed him. It was because, one day, as you went to take back Poe because it was getting late, you saw the junk food on his counter. He remembered the dirty look you gave him, like it was an abomination he was even eating that.
And now you were coming to knock at his door, taking back Poe and giving him some warm and well cooked dishes, lying about the fact that you made too much for you.
It was obvious to him that you were just cooking too much to feed him. That it wasn't a mistake at all.
And he wasn't going to say anything. Not when his belly was so full with good food.
But his belly wasn't the only thing that felt full. His heart felt full, too. With your sweet smile, your soothing voice that made him want to just sit down and listen to you, the way you were teasing him from time to time.
Both of you were getting closer, and on the same occasion, Jason was getting softer with you. His shoulders were less tense. He was frowning less. And surprisingly, he wasn't that snappy during patrols.
Dick loved reminding him about it. And Jason couldn't deny it anymore. Even Damian saw the changes when he was patrolling with them.
Just as he thought that, he heard soft knocks on his door. Poe miaowed loudly like he knew you were there to take him back home.
Jason stood up and opened the door being welcomed by your big smile and your hand still full of food.
"Hi! Food delivery for tonight. And to take back my baby." You said as you offered him the containers.
"You're not going to act like you made too much again?" Jason asked as he took the containers before stepping aside to let you enter.
Without thinking, you went inside, like it was just second nature now. Like it just seemed right to be there.
"You never believed me. So I don't see the point of lying now." You shrugged your shoulders while giving him a teasing grin.
Jason just hummed before putting the food in the fridge. He was going to eat like a king again tonight. He never ate that much and that well since he was here. And he wasn't complaining about it.
"Little shit's on the couch."
"Stop calling him that!" You gasped while hitting his arm lightly, enjoying the firmness of his muscles before you made your way to the couch.
"He's my baby. You can't call him that. He's so cute." Poe purred as you scooped him up, like he was agreeing with you.
"Cute or not, he's still a piece of shit. Right, buddy?" He asked the kitten as he rubbed his finger against his small head, earning another purr. "See?" Jason looked at him as he wiggled his eyebrows, causing you to roll your eyes dramatically.
"Whatever you say, neighbour." You kissed Poe's head. "I should go, I have something to do tonight." You hummed quietly as you made your way back to his front door.
"Something? Got a date or what?" He asked, a smirk on his lips. But he was really hoping you would say no. He's not sure what he will do if you have someone in your life. Not that he would be surprised. Someone as sweet as you? He wouldn't be shocked if you had someone. Not that he wanted you to.
You shook your head and he felt his shoulders relax. "Nope." You popped the p. "Just a hangout with my friends from college. Why? Jealous?" You teased him, wiggling your eyebrows like he did. Damn, he really liked it when you were teasing him back like he does to you.
"Jealous? Really? Of course I'm not." He mumbled the last words, like he was convincing himself more than convincing you.
You just laughed before shaking your head. "If you say so. Have a good night, Jason." You said softly, your smile way too sweet and too pretty for Jason's heart to handle that.
You looked like home. And he hated himself for thinking that.
"Yeah, you too, neighbour. Have fun." He said quietly before closing the door behind you.
Yeah. He was fucked.
--
It was pouring outside. Gotham was never tender when it came to the rain. You couldn't go outside without getting drenched to the bone.
You were watching TV, Poe at Jason's. He went out before the rain started. So you knew he was warm where he was.
As much as you missed having Poe always around you, knowing that he was with Jason was still making you happy. It always felt like Jason needed something soft in his life. And you were happy that Poe was that for him, a place to breathe.
But the rain was starting to make your apartment way colder than it should be. And you wouldn't be opposed to having a tiny warm body against yours.
You put on your slippers and went down to Jason's apartment, not caring that you were still in pyjamas.
You knocked at his door, waiting for him to open as you fidgeted with the hem of your way too big hoodie.
When the door opened, you were met by the confused gaze of Jason. "Yeah?" He asked, taking a good look at your figure.
"I'm here for Poe. It's cold at mine." You said while pushing the sleeves of your hoodie to hide your hands, trying to warm them.
Jason was silent for a few seconds, not sure how to say it. "Uh... Poe's not here." He said quietly, like he was scared of saying the words out loud.
You felt your throat tightening, your heart stuttering at the news, and not for a good reason. It felt like you had a hole in your stomach.
"What?" You asked, wanting to be sure you heard right.
"He's not here. He didn't come today. I, I thought he was with you since it's raining and all." Jason explained before putting his hand on your shoulder.
"Hey... you sure he's not home?" When you shook your head, the realisation came like a hit. Poe wasn't at your place. He wasn't at Jason's. He was outside for sure. It was pouring outside.
Your poor baby of a few months was outside while it was raining in Gotham. Your poor baby was outside alone, probably soaked to the bone and scared.
You felt your shoulders shaking, tears threatening to fall at any moment. Jason panicked at the view before putting himself at your eye level, making sure you were looking at him.
"Hey, look at me." He whispered, his big and warm hands cupping your cheeks. The only comfort for the moment.
"He's probably not far, okay? I... I will look out for him. You're staying here. It's pouring outside, I don't want you to get sick, okay?" Jason's thumbs were brushing your damp cheeks.
"But I need to find-" "You're panicking. There's no way you're going to search for him in that weather. You stay here. No discussion." He said firmly before taking his coat.
With a final brush of his hand on your cheek, he left the apartment in a hurry, leaving you scared and alone behind.
--
The rain hit him the moment he stepped outside.
Not gentle. Not comforting. Gotham rain was sharp, cold, relentless, like it was trying to peel him apart layer by layer. It soaked through his jacket in seconds, clumg to his hair, ran down his spine. Jason barely noticed.
All he could see was your face when he told you Poe wasn’t there.
The way your eyes had gone wide first. Then glassy. Like the world had tilted and you were trying not to fall with it.
Jason’s jaw tightened.
He moved down the block, boots splashing through puddles, eyes scanning every doorway. His hand kept brushing the grip of his gun out of habit before he forced himself to stop. This wasn't a patrol. This wasn't something he could shoot his way out of.
This was a kitten.
A stupid, fearless little thing that curled up on his chest like it belongs there.
The image hit him harder than he expected.
Jason ducked into an alley, rain dripping from the fire escape above. He crouched, phone light sweeping across the ground. His knee was sinking into the cold water, but he didn’t move.
"Poe, come back here. I... I will buy you new... new toys and food and all the shit you like." Silence answered him.
His chest ached, a dull pressure that had nothing to do with the cold.
You trusted him.
That thought kept circling back, sharp and insistent. You trusted him with something you love. You sat there shaking and let him leave, because you believed he could fix this.
The rain didn't let up. Gotham didn't soften.
He kept searching anyway.
--
An hour after, Jason came back soaked, his eyes so dull the moment they met yours. He shook his head before taking off his coat and shoes.
"Didn't find him, sorry. He must be hiding somewhere. He's probably scared." He mumbled before kneeling in front of where you were sitting on the couch, tears spilling from your eyes.
He put his hands on your knees, trying his best to ground and comfort you. "We will find him tomorrow morning okay? He's a smart boy, don't doubt him." He squeezes your knees.
Jason leaned in a little closer, his forehead almost touching yours, his grip firm but gentle, steady. “Hey,” he said softly, voice rough but careful, like he was afraid of breaking you. “Look at me. You’re not alone in this. I’m right here.”
His thumbs brushed over your knees in slow, repetitive motions, anchoring you to the moment, to him. “Cats hide when they’re scared,” he added quietly. “It’s what they do. Doesn’t mean he’s gone. Just means he’s waiting it out.”
When your tears spilled faster, Jason didn’t hesitate. One hand came up to wipe them away with his thumb, awkward but tender, like he was doing his best with something fragile and precious. “We’ll look everywhere tomorrow.” He promised. “Every street. Every alley. I’ll knock on doors if I have to.”
You nodded at his words before putting your hands on top of his. "He's just a baby. What if he's hurt? What if he's scared? He's all alone, and, and it's raining, and Gotham isn't... isn't kind to the weak ones..." You sobbed before hiding your face in your hands, trying to muffle your cry.
Jason was silent, not really sure what to say to comfort you. So he just started to rub his hands up and down your legs, hoping that it would ease your mind a bit.
"D'you want to sleep here?" He mumbled quietly before squeezing your thigh when you nodded. "Okay, okay. I will search for a blanket. I'm coming back." Jason stood up before disappearing in his room.
He came a few minutes after with the fluffiest blanket he could have found. "It's not a lot but it can do the work."
You thanked him before wrapping it around your shoulders. "Can you stay until I fall asleep?" You asked him. You weren't ready to be alone.
"Yeah, of course. M'not leaving." Jason sat down next to you, his arm on the back of the couch, not quite touching you or inviting you to lean against him. He just wanted you to understand that he was there if you needed some physical comfort. Even if he wasn't fond of it, he would do it for you.
You leaned your head against his shoulder, the weight of the day and the fear finally easing a bit, sleepiness getting the best of you.
Jason noticed it immediately, the way your body sagged just a little, how your breathing slowed, how you stopped fighting the exhaustion that had been sticking to you since Poe vanished. He didn’t move away. If anything, he shifted closer, slowly, until your side was pressed against his chest.
One arm came up, hesitating for half a second before settling around you, warm and solid. His hand rested on your upper arm, thumb brushing slow, reassuring circles like he was grounding you there with him. “Hey,” he murmured softly, voice low and steady, “I’ve got you. You don’t gotta hold it all together right now.”
Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, seeking reassurance, and Jason’s grip tightened just a bit in response. He leaned his head against yours, his forehead resting gently against your hair.
--
It was way too early when Jason woke up. The moment he opened his eyes, he groaned before his breath hitched. You were way too close.
You both must have fallen asleep without meaning to, making you both lie down on the couch, your back pressed against the back of the couch, Jason's frame caging you.
Your breath was soft and hot against his skin. And your hands were gripping lightly his hoodie.
His hands weren't better. One arm was below your head, making a pillow. He couldn't feel it anymore, but it was the least of his problems. His other one was around your waist, his hand grazing the small of your back.
His thumb traced a slow, absent-minded line along your lower back, a quiet reassurance he didn’t even realize he was giving. You made a small sound in your sleep and pressed closer, fingers curling a little more into his hoodie.
His heart was pounding and his face felt too hot. But his thoughts were quickly cut the moment he heard a soft and weak miaow.
Jason quickly stood up, trying his best not to wake you up. He made his way to his balcony's door only to see Poe, all dry and looking way too good for a kitten who scared them last night.
He opened the door to let the kitty enter before taking him by his neck's skin. "Piece of shit. You scared us last night. You scared them. I hope you're not proud of yourself." He shakes his head before pulling the furry creature for a hug, nudging his nose against the side of his head.
"You're not getting a new toy, I hope you know that." He mumbled before going back to the couch.
Without thinking too much, he lay back down next to you, this time with Poe between you, his furry head resting comfortably on your chest. Jason wrapped his arm around your waist again, smiling when he felt you move closer in your sleep.
He will deal with the kitten tomorrow. He had better things to enjoy right now.
He wasn't sure what was really happening between you two. How your relationship was evolving. But he knew that he was happy about the turn it was taking for now. You, Poe and him.
