Help Wanted
Stardew Valley AU :D
Jason Todd x Farmer!Reader
Prequel (you’re here!)
After an accident leaves you high on pain meds and soon to be short a thousand gold, you post a simple request for help around the farm. You don’t expect the reply to come from a newcomer with watchful eyes and too many secrets.
Inspired by this absolutely perfect piece of fanart by @ciricearts please give her love for all the blessings she gives the DC community with her art.
WC: 2.5K
Beta-Reader: @vee08
To make the Jason Todd portrait, I used a fun website I found below:
Masc Version / Fem Version
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You grumble as you take your fourth set of medication for the night, the pills bitter even after you chase them down with the last lukewarm sip of tea on your bedside table.
The glass clinks softly when you set it down on your nightstand with a sigh that echoes a bit too loudly in the silence of the room.
Everything feels too loud lately, every creak in the wood, the hurt in your heart when you walk past your grandpa’s chair that you hadn’t moved by the fireplace, and last but certainly not least, every dull pulse of pain along your side that refuses to let you forget exactly how stupid you’d been.
You barely got any work done today. Feeding the animals had taken nearly all your energy, and even that had been slow and clumsy, with more than a handful of breaks where you had to lean against a fence post and breathe through the throbbing ache.
Thankfully, past-you had been smart enough to invest in a few sprinklers, so at least the crops wouldn’t all shrivel up in the time it took you to heal up a bit more. Still, the thought of the new season creeping closer makes your stomach twist.
There’s so much to harvest. Soil to hoe, seeds to buy and plant, animals to care for, foraging to do, things to mine, and repairs to finish that you couldn’t afford at the moment to ask Robin for–
Oh, and you had to get the best quality crops you could by mid-fall. (2 years in, and you had yet to beat Pierre at the Town Fair)
Yoba, there is so much to do, and–
Pain flares up on your side, spreading into your ribs and shoulders. Your hand shoots up, pressing instinctively against the bandaging beneath your shirt.
Right, and you can barely walk across your own fucking farm without wincing. Great.
Of course, you just had to go into the mines. Your generous, helpful heart, seeing Abigal's request pinned on a board, decided to head into the mines on a whim-- only to get slimmed out by a slim.
Now, a thousand gold later, thanks to your even kinder, very expensive doctor friend, you’d actually lost money trying to do this favour, and you were not happy at all.
Recalling your shitty luck adds to the stinging of your eyes, exhaustion and frustration blurring together as the weight of everything still waiting for you settles heavily in your chest.
How the hell were you supposed to manage any of it like this?
Your laptop sits abandoned beside you, half-buried in blankets where you’d shoved it earlier while rewrapping your bandages. You stare at it for a long moment, mind foggy from medication, before reaching over and dragging it into your lap.
You don’t even remember opening the town’s new online request board in the first place. Mayor Lewis had been stupidly proud of it (which he got Sebastian to program and set up for him), some attempt to “modernize community engagement.”
Pfft, as if anyone besides you ever checked the thing--
A small, sharp spark of pettiness flares in your chest as your brain latches onto the injustice of your unrequited generosity.
Fuck it.
Let someone help you for once.
Before you can overthink it, you click into the request form, and your fingers fly over the keyboard as you begin to type.
HELP WANTED:
- Farmer’s assistant. - 5 month position. - 1,000g per month. - Live on farm + Meals included. - No resume needed, just pull up–
By the time you hit post, you’re not even sure what you included in half of it. Still… a strange flicker of satisfaction settles in your chest as your notice appears on the board.
Finally, on the other side of this stupid board.
You don’t bother rechecking the post as you smack your laptop shut with a groan. The pillows shift as you sink back into ur bed, barely managing to shove your laptop on your nightstand.
Your thoughts blur as the medication wins and pulls you to sleep, your worries for the weeks to come melting away just long enough for sleep to finally take you
By the time you wake, the post you made was completely wiped from your memory.
Instead, every waking moment for the next week was full of pain, stress and anxiety as you tried to keep up with your life.
You somehow managed to keep up for the most part, though undoubtedly less than half the speed you used to before the injury and also most certainly pushing back your recovery time tenfold.
At the moment you’re in the kitchen, forcing yourself to make a cup of coffee for the extra kick needed to fight through the medication’s heavy drowsiness, when a knock sounds at the door, making you jolt.
You pause, who the hell could it be?, frowning you glance at the oven clock.
5:30 AM.
It's early… really early. The only person in Pelican Town who was usually already awake at this time was you, given the amount of work you had to do each day, which meant you spent many mornings as the sole person conscious.
An immediate sense of unease washed over you as you realized your peaceful, quiet morning was lost to whoever was on the other side of the door.
Please don’t be Lewis, you think, already bracing yourself for some new “small favour” that definitely isn’t small.
With a quiet sigh, half resignation and irritation, you make your way to the door, expecting to look down at the mayor.
Instead of meeting the older man's eyes, all you see is red.
A red shirt, to be specific, worn but clean stretched across a broad solid chest that very much does not belong to Mayor Lewis.
Your gaze lifts slowly, up past strong shoulders, the line of a few beauty marks over a nice neck, and finally to a face that steals the breath straight from your lungs.
Sharp features softened by the warm morning light. Scarred skin framed by dark hair with a tuff of white by his forehead, and blue-green eyes that could rival the colours you see when you walk by the river near your farm.
For a moment, all you can think is that this is probably the most handsome stranger you’ve ever seen in your life.
The second moment that passes has you questioning what type of medication Harvey has you on to be having your wet dreams this vividly–
Your mouth opens, and not a single sound comes out by the time you shut it.
The stranger tilts his head slightly, just enough to show he’s noticed. His gaze flicks over you with enough intensity that makes you aware of your rumpled clothes, your messy hair, and the faint hunch in your posture from favouring your uninjured side.
“Morning,” he says.
His voice is low and captivating, the impulsive part of your brain wants to tell him he would make a fortune doing those ASMR videos, and the more reasonable part of you finally realizes he and this exact moment were, in fact, not a dream.
You straighten despite the pain that shoots up your side, clearing your throat, mortified by how long you’ve been staring. “Uh... Morning.”
You don’t follow it with a ‘can I help you?’ or anything that would suggest you had more than 1 neuron in your brain. (In your defense though, it’s too early for this, and you hadn’t even taken a sip of your coffee thats definitely growing cold on your counter.)
Silence stretches between you, broken only by the distant sound of birds waking up and the quiet creak of the farmhouse settling. The house still smelling like the warm baked goods that Jodi had delivered to you last night that you left on the counter.
The man shifts his weight, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his brown jacket, like he’s trying very hard not to look intimidating. Which, unfortunately for him, is not working.
“I’m here about the post,” he says finally.
“The… post?” you ask, stupidly your brows furrowing– and a small grin tugs at his lips in response, making your chest ache inaway that didn’t make you grimace in pain for once.
He nods once. “Yeah. Farm assistant?”
For half a heartbeat, your brain is blissfully empty as you stare up at him, nodding like you know exactly what he means.
But it doesn’t last long as everything crashes back in at once. The job post. The one you deep down never actually believed anyone would answer, most definitely not someone like him.
“Oh,” you manage. “Right. That post.”
You shift in place for a moment, unsure of what to do before deciding to smooth down your shirt, well aware that you are not giving off the more professional first impression.
“I didn’t think anyone would come,” you admit, words tumbling out before you can stop them. “I mean– Pelican Town isn’t exactly overflowing with people looking for farm work. Especially not–” You trail off, gesturing vaguely at him.
The man gives a half-shrug. “I needed a job,” he says simply. “You needed help.”
He then sticks out his hand, making you look down. You catch sight of a suitcase at his side, but you pry your eyes away back to his face as you shake his hand. “Jason”
Jason. That name suits him, you decide.
You repeat it as you instinctively respond to his gesture, taking his hand and sharing your name. His grip basically swallows yours whole, his skin calloused.
Hmmm, that’s a good sign, evidence that he’d gotten his get his hands dirty, and quite often.
You discreetly turn his hand in your grip, eyes travelling up the little skin you can see of his forearm. Visible veins disappearing under the cuff make you unconsiously bit at ur lower lip.
Strong, he seems strong, and above all else, more than capable. Your shoulders sag a little at that conclusion; you do need help afterall.
The farm has been limping along on sheer stubbornness, caffeine, and painkiller-drugged delusions for the better part of a week now, and he just had to be a gift from Yoba.
Releasing his hand, you step back from the doorway, beaming at him, “Just the attitude I’m looking for! Thank you for coming, Jason– please, come inside.”
You actually had no idea what you were looking for, but it’s too late to back out now, it seems. Your grandpa did say you hated to admit your mistakes, and well… he wasn't wrong.
Jason steps over the threshold without another word, pulling along his suitcase, which he settles near the door. The floorboards creak softly under his weight, and you finally process how much taller he is compared to you.
Wow– you feel a small thrill of excitement. You were going to put him to work so hard, maybe starting with that one stubborn tree you hadn’t managed to chop down even before you were injured.
You close the door behind him, wincing faintly at the movement before trying to pretend you didn’t.
“Sorry about the mess,” you say automatically, even though the farmhouse isn’t actually messy. Tools by the door, a watering can you forgot to bring back outside, and seed packets scattered near the table where you’d been trying to plan the next season through a haze of pain meds and mild despair.
Jason’s gaze moves slowly around the room. His eyes pause briefly on your grandpa’s chair by the fireplace, then shift away with something unreadable flickering across his expression.
“It’s nice,” he says simply.
Warmth blooms in your chest at that. Nice, this attractive man thinks your house is nice. That was certainly a change of words from others you heard before. (cough Haliey cough)
“Thank you! Please take a seat and– uh, coffee’s fresh,” you add, already moving toward the counter. “Or… fresh-ish. I made it before the knocking scared the shit out of me.”
Behind you, you hear the faintest huff of amusement paired with the sound of a chair pulling out. You pour a second mug, picking it up as you place it on the table and slide it toward him.
Up close, you get to take in his finer details. The scars you noticed before are clearer now. What caught your curiosity most was the scar on his face, almost in the shape of a J.
He shifts his gaze a bit in response to your interest, side-eyeing you at where your attention snagged. Your breath hitches as you realize what you were doing, and your gaze immediately snaps away as you reach to grab your own mug.
“Thanks,” he says plainly, fingers curling around the mug, making you grimace internally at how rude you’d just been. His scars were none of your business, and you were taught better than tomake people uncomfortable in your own home like that.
You lower yourself carefully into the chair across from him, biting back the small hiss of pain that threatens to escape when you move the wrong way.
You cradle the mug between your palms, letting the heat seep into your skin while you try to remember what exactly you even wrote in that post.
“So,” you say finally, wrapping your hands around your mug more for something to do with your hands. “I should probably explain what you’re getting into. Since I… didn’t exactly do that in the post.”
Jason gives you a nod, taking a sip of the coffee, giving you room to speak.
You take a breath, gathering your thoughts. “The farm’s a bit of everything. Crops, animals, and foraging. Some repairs here and there when things break, which they do. A lot. I usually handle the mines to, but that’s… obviously on pause.”
He nods, his brows lifting in what you assume is interest when you mention mining before furrowing as he leans in slightly to listen more intently. His focus makes you scramble to add some context to not scare him away.
"I got injured a week ago, completely my own fault, so don't worry! But uh, that's what made me put up the post in the first place." You gesture to your side as you keep talking.
“I’m not expecting miracles,” you add quickly, “Mostly I just need someone who can keep things running while I heal. Feed the animals. Help with harvests. Maybe chop some wood.”
You pause, then add, a little sheepish, “Especially someone who can chop wood. There’s also a tree out back that’s been mocking me for months.”
That earns you another soft chuckle as he lifts a hand to push his hair back, as he nods. “ I can do that. I’ve worked with my hands before,” he says. “Long hours, I’m good to stand one my feet and lifting things.”
“Ah–” You straighten interested, “farm work?”
“Not exactly,” he replies, his fingers drumming across the table, drawing your gaze to them for a moment, missing how he scanned over your frame in the meanwhile. “But I learn fast.”
"That's great--" You nod in acnowlegdment noting it down mentally before lifting your cup to take a drink to give yourself time to think of your next question. “Hm, any experience with animals?”
“I’m fine with them.”
“Crops?”
“I can follow instructions.”
“Mining?” you ask, half-joking. “Because if you’re planning on getting slimed, I’d prefer you not do it on my watch.”
That actually makes him smile and lean back almost cockily in his seat as he picks up his mug again. “I’m a good fighter,” he says dryly and something about the way he says it makes you not doubt him. You nod along in response to his words, your own smile crossing your face.
He’s perfect. And he’s very easy on the eyes, what more could a humble farmer want?
“Alright!” you say, clasping your hands together gleefully. “You're a perfect fit, honestly. You’re hired!”
He pauses, mug halfway to his lips, and you swear you see his eyes narrow in almost suspicion. “Just like that?”
You shrug, waving a hand dismissively. “You showed up at 5:30 in the morning with a suitcase and a willingness to work. That’s more effort than most people put into anything.”
You end the sentence with a sigh, leaning forward to brace your forearms on the table, slouching into the position slightly with a bit of vulnerability. “And,” you add, “I really do need the help.”
Something shifts in his expression then, and some tension you didn’t notice until now releases from his shoulders.
He gives you a smile that dimples his cheek that you can't help but mirror. “I won’t let you down, Farmer.”
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Proposed idea:
6 parts [maybe]: each part will follow a heart event with the reader and Jason, where you learn more about him.
Jason has other motives to be at the farm besides just helping you out [Joja Corporation related].
Spoilers for the possible series here.
A/N: Ta-da! This idea is one I had for a while now, though only now came to fruition after I dragged myself out of midterms, burnout and writer's block.
I'd like to deeply apologize for disappearing yet again. I have been writing meanwhile; however, I was splitting time across a few different fics instead of just committing to one and over the last two months, I have been writing those up! I hope to get them out in the next 2 weeks to come.
