#jason todd x injured reader

[jasmines-library]

Hey!!! I love your writing and I want to request a Batfam where the reader (youngest sister) went into a coma and then wakes up after two months of many complications.

Sorry if the request sounds weird and unclear😅

Wait For You.

Summary: Whilst trying to protect your brother on a patrol, an explosive causes you to fall into a coma. Your brother stick by you through your recovery.

Warnings: Explosives, injury/blood, coma.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

Things had gotten bad quickly. You and Tim were supposed to be out on an easy patrol. Gotham was quiet for once, so you and your older brother Tim decided to let your brothers have the night off for once. Oh boy was that a bad idea. You should have taken the unusual silence as a warning, as a huge red flag being waved right in front of your faces, but you were all too naive over the fact that patrol would be easy. But as soon as you had suited up and slipped out of your cave, shit hit the fan.

It started with two perfectly timed robberies on opposite sides of the city. You had to admit that you were slightly suspicious, but it wasn’t anything uncommon for a crime riddled city like Gotham and it was nothing you couldn’t handle, so you split off from your brother and went to deal promptly with the criminals before handing them off to the police to deal with. But then, as you were on the way to meet Tim, things got worse. The entire city lost power. One by one the street lights flickered off and the billboards shut down, plunging the city into complete darkness, besides the full moon that grinned down on the skyscrapers, but provided very little light to the ground.

“Red? You there?” You called out through the coms, hoping that the power outage hadn’t affected your signal. 

There was a moment of gut-wrenching silence before the sound of his voice crackled through the static. The signal was compromised, but not enough so that the two of you couldn’t communicate with the rest of the cave. “I’m here. Where are you?”

“Near the Cauldron, making my way towards China Town.”

“Copy. I’ll meet you there, be careful Raven.”

“I’ll try.” You said, making your way through the derelict streets, heading towards the red bunting that hung above ChinaTown as another voice crackled through the coms.

“Patrol, this is Oracle. Can you hear us?”

You hummed. 

“Good. We lost you for a moment when the power went out. What happened?”

“We’re not sure yet. I’m about to rendezvous with Red. We’ll see what we can find.”

“Alright. Stay on the line.”

“Copy.”

You rounded the corner where you saw Tim sprinting towards you. He gripped you tight and checked you over for any injuries. 

“You okay?”

“Fine.” You nodded. “Any idea what happened?”

He shook his head. “No, but it can’t mean anything good. We were separated before this happened so this has definitely been planned. Someone is trying to separate us.”

“Yeah, but who?”

“I don’t know. We need to get looking and send for backup.”

“Oracle,” Tim voiced into his com “We’re gonna need some backup. Something’s definitely happening and we-”

A building to your left exploded, sending sparks of debris all around you with a plume of smoke. 

“Raven run!” Tim yelled as more buildings began to collapse around you, forcing the two of you to run as fast as you could until you reached a small clearing and the sound of the explosions seemed to have stopped. 

You skidded to a halt, trying to catch your breath and soothe the burn in your legs when you saw it. A small red light blinking rapidly just to Tim’s right. But he was facing the other way and there was no way he was going to see it and get out of the way. The light flashed faster and faster as you dove forwards, knocking your brother out of the way with a shout of his name. 

You tackled him out of the way and onto the concrete just before the explosive detonated just inches away from where he was standing. The force of it sent the two of you flying across the asphalt. You let out a small scream that was cut short by the pain that radiated across your body; cuts and blistering burns that had managed to burn their way through parts of your suit before your head collided with the ground and everything went blank. 

Tim hauled himself to his feet, scanning the ash filled sky and limping towards where he had seen your body get flung to. His heart stopped when he saw you laying bloody and unconscious on the ground. 

“Raven!” He cried, picking up his pace and falling just short of your side. Crawling the rest of the way, he gripped your suit, noting the sticky red that seeped slowly into your hair. “No. No. Raven wake up.”

He patted your face urgently, but you did not stir; you lay limp in his arm, your head lolling on the ground as he tried to shake you awake. “No. Not like this, Raven come on!”

He was crying now, his tears leaving little trails where they had washed away all of the soot that had landed on his face. He placed his head to your chest to listen to your shallow breathing before hauling you onto his lap. He was injured too, and the motion hurt him greatly, but he brushed it aside as he clung to you. “Open your eyes Y/N! Please!” He sobbed.

“NO!” He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone lay a gloved hand on your shoulder, pulling you closer to his chest as his head whipped around. His eyes met the blue of Dicks domino mask. 

“What happened!” He asked, alerted by the sight of your bloody frame lying limp in his brother's arms.

“Another explosion. She-” Tim couldn’t speak. It was like his body had forgotten how to function. 

Dick nodded, grimacing slightly before calling to Jason over his shoulder. “Hood, call B. Get him to send emergency evac and tell him to prepare the medbay. 

He nodded, pailing at the sight of you. 

“Red, you need to let her go.” Dick told Tim.

“No.” He repeated. “No it’s my fault I can’t.”

“Timmy, we need to get her to help and we need to get you checked out too.”

He shook his head, clutching you closer.

“Robin.” 

Damian made his way over, lifting his brother's arms away from you and holding him back as Dick lifted you carefully to rush you back to the cave. 

~

You were still not awake. 

Two months had slowly dragged by and you were still lifeless. You didn’t move; not even a twitch of a hand. You just lay there, your chest rising and falling steadily. If Tim, who refused to leave your side most of the time, could get the image of your fragile body out of his head, he might have thought you were sleeping.

Most of your wounds had healed well and all of your stitches had been removed recently, but your skin was still scarred and littered with a few bandages to cover the nasty burns, but for the most part your body had healed. 

But then there were all of the tubes and the vigilantes honestly weren’t sure what was worse; seeing you covered in bandages, or seeing you hooked up to a network of tubes that were keeping you alive. Your IV rack sat next to your bed. They had moved you there not long after you had been treated. They knew how much you hated being in the hospital and Damian had insisted that they move you. He had even threatened to do it on his own if no one helped. 

Most days, they all took turns to watch over you, anticipating anything. Dreading the worst. Jason was by your side after forcing Tim to finally shower and catch some sleep, telling him that you wouldn’t want him to waste away like he was. But Tim couldn’t help it. Guilt was eating him up from the inside out. It didn’t take long for them to figure out the cause of the explosions. The Joker and Penguin had allegedly teamed up to kill Batman and the vigilantes. It was their plan all along to separate the five of you so that you were easier to take out, so when you and Tim regrouped they changed their plan and resorted to explosives and you had pushed him out of the way because he was too stupid to notice that there was something behind him and now you were unresponsive. His brothers had tried to tell him otherwise, but he was stubborn and spent all of his time sitting next to you. Dick practically had to drag him out of your room to get him to go to sleep. 

Jason was holding one of your hands and awkwardly flicking through a book with the other as he read to you. He tended to do that alot to pass the time and to bring some comfort. He honestly didn’t know if you could hear him or not but he read anyway. 

It was then that you groaned and he dropped the book in a second. Leaning closer to you he could see that you were scrunching your face up slightly, bringing your eyebrows downwards. 

“Little wing?” He whispered gently.

His heart leapt when he felt your fingers twitch ever so slightly under his and for a moment he thought that you were going to open your eyes but you stilled again. However after watching for a moment, Jason leapt out of his chair and ran downstairs to tell your family.

When he reached the cave, he was met by a very upset looking Tim and a frustrated Damian, who was trying to convince his older brother to go back to bed. 

“Why the hell aren’t you with her?!” Tim snapped “You can’t just leave her on her own-”

“She moved.”

~

You could hear voices but you couldn’t see. Everything was dark but you could hear the familiar tones of their voices murmuring across the room. You urged your eyes to open, but they felt like they were glued shut and then taped over. 

“Come on kid. You can do it.” You heard from somewhere.

You fought against yourself, willing for your eyes to open or for your body to move. And then your finger twitched. And then another. 

“Did you see that!?” Damian exclaimed, pointing to your hand.

You then managed to move your head ever so slightly to the left, eliciting many excited gasps as your brothers crowded round, willing for you to wake up. Ever since Jason had seen you first move you had been making quick progress in your recovery. Your body began to respond to their touch or to their voice, but you had never seemingly moved on your own until now. 

“Open your eyes, little wing. You can do it.” Tim. You knew without even seeing him. 

Tim. You realised suddenly. He was okay. 

And then you did it, you finally managed to crack your eyes open slightly only to be assaulted by the light. You blinked as you adjusted to it, the blurring figures in front of you finally coming into focus. 

“There she is.” Dick smiled. 

“Hey y/n/n.” Tim said. You noticed he was holding your hand and rubbing circles on the back of it with his thumb. 

You moved your mouth to try and speak, but you struggled to form the words. 

“Take your time.” Damian propted gently. 

You tried again, managing to push a hoarse whisper out with a little smile. “Hi.”

The five of your brothers lit up with the biggest smiles that had in forever as they fussed over you, helping to ease you up and to pull you into their embrace. Glad to have their little sister back with them again. 

[brokenpieces-72]

Echo

Note: I have been working on this oc for a while, and there's a lot I wanted to do with them. This story is oc reader insert, so I leave the name open but the hero name is already established.

CW: Foster system (abuse of it), injured reader, financial abuse, car crash, let me know if I missed anything.

You know that feeling when everything seems to be falling apart? You’ve had it before, when you lost your parents and separated from your sibling in the foster system. You feel it now too along with plenty of soreness from your injuries.

You lay in the hospital bed, with your cracked phone screen. Foster parents hadn’t seen any of your texts and no phone calls had been answered. You messaged your sibling but they wouldn’t be able to make it to you. Your friends were either stuck at work or asleep right now. The nurses and doctor suggested calling a lawyer for yourself, since the other driver is a lawyer and his family wants to press charges. Insurance company has you covered for any other surgery or treatment they need to do so no need to contact them.

Still, you stare at your phone screen staring at the small text message history you have. You could try. He might be busy, but you could try. While your boss wasn’t the softest or kindest person, he still cared. Many not a lot, but at least a little. Then again, maybe it would be a chance for him to stop mentoring you, and go solo again. The pros and cons fight over what to say in the text. Regardless you wouldn't be out of hospital for a while so he needed to know that.

E: Hey boss, sorry but I can’t come in to work for the next couple days.

You shut your phone off after sending it. Then you turn it back on again, debating whether to delete it, edit it, or leave it. Honestly with the drugs in your system, it’s a little hard to make proper decisions. You know he’ll ask, you know he’ll be hard on you for reckless driving, but he’s all you’ve got right now. Right now you just need another person with you, even if they’re somewhat of a stranger.

Your phone rings. Holy crap it can still do calls? Whatever not the point. You answer the call without paying attention to the screen, though you briefly see the name. This would not be pleasant.

“Hello?” You answered, before coughing. Maybe you could cover up your sore voice as a sick one.

“What's going on?” Your boss asked.

“Uhh… can I…” you pause a lot, the war still going on, and fighting over your vocal cords. To your boss's credit he’s patient right now. Finally, you get something out. “Are you on patrol?”

You rub your head, praying you don’t have a headache coming on. Your boss takes a moment to answer.

“Yes why?” He asked. He sounds irritated. You don’t want a lecture when he gets here.

“Nevermind. Forget it.” You say quickly.

“Outlaw, answer the question.” He said.

“… I…” you swallowed. “I’m in hospital. No one can make it, and… was wondering if you could come see me?”

There’s silence again and you shut your eyes. This was a bad idea. You hear a sigh over the phone, and regret sinks in.

“Forget it, I’ll be fi-“

“On my way, give me a few minutes. Do you need anything?” Your boss asked.

“Maybe a change of clothes.” You suggest. “That’s kind of it.”

He hangs up, and you sigh. He was gonna lecture you, but at least he was coming. Especially if they needed to do more surgery. God knows your fosters wouldn’t come anytime soon.

Jason Todd arrived at the hospital, jacket on, hood up, and a small backpack with a change of clothes for you. Trying to see you as your boss likely wouldn’t work very well, but seeing you as your brother could pass. He approaches the desk where a nurse is typing away. The nurse looked up, seeing him almost towering over her.

“Here to see Y/N L/N.” he asked.

“Down that hall, room 168.” The nurse instructed. Jason made his way down the hall, keeping an eye out for the room. He stopped himself just outside your door, ensuring the face mask he brought covered his face. His eyes were uncovered, but the hood shielded them enough. Then he overheard you on the phone.

“It was an accident, I swear I did-no it wasn’t for attention. I was just-“ you tried to get a word in as your foster parents demanded to know why they were getting medical bills. Jason steps in, quietly as you continued to plead innocent. “I just went out to meet a friend, I wasn't even drinking. Insurance money will cover it, I checked. I'm not asking you to cover it, I'm just telling y-...Okay. I'll transfer the mon-I'll take it out when I get the chance.”

You’re on the phone getting yelled at until they finally hang up. Your head is down, and you're holding back tears. When you looked up you nearly jumped out of bed, seeing the large figure that had come into your room. The red hoodie was a dead giveaway. Jason stepped in and set the bag down nearby.

“What happened?” He asked, not bothering with a greeting.

“Car accident… don’t quite remember. I swear I was driving on the right side, and I tried to move out of the way, but…” you trailed off.

“At least you’re alive.” He pointed out.

“Yeah so I can get medical bills, foster parents barking at me, no car for the next who knows how long, and now I even have to get a lawyer because the family of the other driver says it was all my fault, and I won’t be able to go to work or go on patrol or even train.” You say, trying to keep the lump in your throat down. The last thing you wanted was to start sobbing.

Jason sits in a nearby chair. “You’ll need more than a couple days.”

“The couple days is just for me to get out of hospital, the rest I can do easily enough.” You say, shrugging. As if shrugging really got rid of the weight of everything. Red Hood needed Echo, they were close to a breakthrough in a fighting and drug ring.

“You need rest.” Jason told you.

“For a couple days, then I’ll be back on my feet. The next load is coming Thursday, I'll be fine by then.” You said firmly, but there was a crack in your voice from emotion. Sidelining is the last thing you want. You’ve worked too hard for him to take you out of the game. Jason is quiet in the chair. It looks like he staring at the floor or the bed but you know he’s looking at you under his hood. You refuse to break.

Jason knows you are though. You’re tired, you’re injured, you have morphine in your blood stream, and financially you’re fucked. When he sighs, you think it’s pointed towards you and your stubbornness. It’s not. He realizes that you’ve been carrying a lot more than he thought. Now he has to call for a favour, one he didn’t want to ask for.

“Kid, right now, you are unfit to fight-don’t interrupt.” He said, holding his hand up, before you could argue. “You’re injured, you’re stressed, and you’ll be distracted. The last thing I want is your death on my conscious because I let you get yourself killed.”

“I don’t need to be sidelined.” You said, your voice breaking.

“You’re being benched for your own good. When you’re ready to get back into the game, I’ll pull you in. Don’t rush it but don’t waste time.” Red Hood ordered. You nodded. It’s a bit of a relief, since you haven’t had much time for regular life, let alone time for yourself.

“How long do I have?” You asked. Of course you wanted to be on a time limit. Jason did it to you for a lot of your training, whether it was posting up or reaching a checkpoint.

“Knowing shit like this, it will take maybe a week or so until you’re out of here.” Jason thought out loud.

“Then I have to get a lawyer which is a week or so, I have enough money… I should. I can do that while I’m recovering, and then I have work, and my side job. Chores, extra because I’ll be away. Then getting my vehicle repaired which will take a while…” your voice broke again thinking about the work you had after you leave the hospital.

“Hey.” Jason said. You looked up at him and it’s the first time you’ve seen his eyes. They were more natural than you thought. For some reason you thought they’d be red or maybe yellow. “This isn’t a fight, focus on what’s in front of you. I’ll give you a month.”

“I won’t need a month.” You said, take a deep breath to calm yourself.

“You’re getting one. Consider it mandatory vacation or something.” Jason said.

You want to thank him, and hug him but you’re a little incapable. The relief is massive wave, almost drowning you. You look down at your broken phone, feeling it vibrate.

“Thank you.” You said, the tears finally breaking free from your eyes. You sniffle and wipe at them. “Sorry.”

“Just fucking cry kid. Your life is falling apart it’s a normal response.” Jason said.

You let out a small noise that he thinks is you laughing. You nod, wiping your eyes, and a small smile on your face. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thank you. You wouldn’t happen to know any lawyers would you?” You asked. Your phone vibrated and you checked it, seeing your friend had replied, saying he was close by.

“Recover for the first while, then worry about a lawyer.” Red Hood said. Jason notices you smile at your phone, and takes it as his cue to leave. “Rest. I’ll be in touch.”

Jason gets up, leaving the backpack. Once he steps into the hallway he sighs. He doesn’t want to make this call, he really doesn’t. But you’re his partner, his apprentice. Hell, you’re basically his Robin. Jason had a rough life. You might have what he didn’t, but that didn’t make your life perfect. He’d been pulled out of that struggle and sure it wasn’t perfect, but it was at the very least decent.

Once he’s out of the hospital, he dials on his phone. He didn’t want to but with the bs justice system Gotham has, you would need some help.

“Alfred?” Jason said, hearing a familiar older voice on the other end. “Is Bruce there? I need to talk to him.”

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @1mommyrose4ever29 @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving

[freakingholland]

"Sofa chronicles" - Jason Todd x gn!injured!reader

A/N: Hi babes, ummm hurt/comfort/fluff time am I right? *cricket sounds* I’ve been really struggling with inspo to write about my fav boys to be very very honest so please, show some love in my comments/asks, I wanna fangirl/boy/they with you all cutie pies

:(

Headcanons? Memes? Let’s talk! My asks are here.

Warnings: injuries, mentions of surgery, physical discomfort, negative remarks, use of pain killers, mentions of diabetes devices/supplies, suggestive implied dialogue (in a joking/pun form, NSFW) - (hurt/comfort + fluff)

Summary: After a patrol went south you are left with one working knee and a caring boyfriend at your side.

Word count: 820+

If you enjoyed my work: Ko-fi.com/freakingholland

questions/requests/ideas here! - rules here

masterlist

my wattpad archive is here

my AO3 archive is here

„Do you need anything else sweetheart?” Jay said squatting next to the sofa, his face plastered with genuine worry.

“Oww… Can I—can I take my meds now? Did you check the time?” You grimaced, trying to shift to a more comfortable position.

Jay quickly glanced at his watch, brows knitting together.

“Yup- you can. I’ll  go grab them.” He stood up and headed towards the kitchen.

“JUST DON’T GO ANYWHERE!” he shouted once he left the living room.

“Oh, you’re sooo funny Todd.” You responded, as your upper torso sank back into the warm pillow.

He walked back in with your pills in one hand and a tall glass of water in the other.

“Here.”

“Thanks babe.”

Jay placed his hand on the small of your back and started rubbing your back to try and comfort you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, appreciating the comfort of his touch.

“Jay…” you said, your voice a little hesitant.

 “I’m sorry, but can I ask you for one more thing?”

“’Course.” He straightened up, immediately attentive, his face softening.

“Ice bag?” you asked with pleading eyes.

“On it.”

“You’re the best,” you sighed, feeling both grateful and guilty for needing so much help.

Thanks to an unfortunate patrol the other week you were now stuck to your sofa with just half of working knees. One point for a hard landing, zero points for Y/N. Thankfully Jay was there to help you out after an ACL surgery.

“Here you go hun.”

You sighed in relief as the cold began to seep through, taking the edge off the ache in your knee. You finished your glass of water and handed it back to him. Jay placed it on the coffee table.

“Move your cute butt a bit.” He requested with a grin. You blink at him, too tired to figure out what he’s getting at.

“You can’t be serious…”

Jay snickered, shaking his head.

“Naah I’m kidding, don’t move.” Jay bent a little to plant a kiss on top of your head before he sat beside you. He chuckled slightly as he noticed the way you rolled your eyes at his remark.

With him sitting next to you, he gently tuged the blanket up to make sure you're cozy. Jay glanced at your exposed leg, his fingers lightly tapping on your hand. That was his usual way of asking to be held.

Your fingers intertwined with his, his rough palm grazing against yours. Your head fell to the side, leaning on Jay’s shoulder. His hair was still damp after a shower. The scent of his cosmetics mixed with his natural smell brought you much needed comfort.

Suddenly you straightened up, when you noticed your sleeve getting wet.

You glanced down at your arm and moved your gaze toowards Jay's. His dexcom sticker got wet and started leaking drops of water.

“You’re making me- wet babe.”  you murmured, nudging him slightly.

Jay blinked all puzzled, then looked down at his arm and snorted.

“Oh—am I?”

“-- my bad pumpkin.” He apologized with a grin.

“Guess I didn’t dry it off.” Jay continued.

He playfully wiped your arm, not making it any less wet, earning a chuckle from you.

“No need to apologize, it’s not like I can be mad at my personal nurse.”

“Yeeaah you’re kinda right. What would you do without me, huh?” He leaned back, crossing his muscular arms.

“Not much, that’s for sure.”

Jay’s phone buzzed.

“Bruce?” you asked.

“Mr. Richard.”

“He’s asking if you’re still alive.”

“Sadly… wait what?”

“Wait what?” He furrowed his brow at your negative comment.

He placed his free hand on your uninjured thigh as he was responding to the message.

“Feelin’ any better?” His warm hand was sliding up and down your leg, as he was trying to comfort you.

“Yeah, a little.”

“Good.” He tossed his phone to the side.

“Do you need anything else?” he asked moving to the edge of your sofa. You grabbed him by his t-shirt, tugging him back towards you.

“No, no thank you. Please sit down for a bit. Do you feel like watching a movie or something?”

“Would love to, any ideas?” He took the remote and started looking through the channels.

“What about this?” he asked, motioning towards the TV.

“Perfect.” You sighed contentedly, leaning into him, your head resting against his chest. He wrapped his arm around you. His fingers started tracing gentle circles on your arm.

“Thanks for taking care of me-- I know I’m not the easiest patient.” You whispered weakly, looking up at him.

“You’re not so bad.” he said teasingly. You playfully punched his side.

“I might have to start charging you for my nursing services,” Jay chuckled, his arm tightening around your shoulders, carefully pulling you even closer to him.

“I know you love taking care of me, you’re a bad liar Jay.”

“I do, I do… now gimme a kiss.”

You happily complied.

[whenshesdown]

guys i think jason would "bottom" every once in a while if he really trusts you. like, there would still be some boundaries, and he would still feel in control, but the man is always so reliant on only himself & taking care of others... that an occasional reprieve would be kind of cathartic.

[yandere-writer-momo]

I kind of like the idea of a Dick vs Jason love triangle. It seems fun and horrifying.

@yandere-wishes

Yandere Batman Head Canons: In The Middle

Yandere Jason Todd x Fem Reader x Yandere Dick Grayson

Warning: they’re both very delusional

You were a fresh face in Gotham. Someone who hasn’t yet been exposed to the horrors of the city and still had kindness… it was why all sorts of unsavory characters attached themselves to you. Nightwing and Red Hood were among the two.

So it was no surprise Dick began to develop feelings for you whenever you’d patch him up in alleyways.

Dick loved how your touch was always so gentle… your softness was a trait he loved. Yet Jason’s feelings were much more intense than Dick’s. He was far more broken than the ‘perfect’ Dick.

Jason craved warmth, kindness, and touch. All of which that you gave him with no desire for anything in return… he had to have you. He deserved you more than his adopted brother.

You let him into your apartment to heal him up when he was injured. You fed him homemade meals. You even let him sleep on your couch… you loved him too. That’s the only logical explanation in his brain because why else would someone be so kind to a man they barely know?

It was why whenever he’d be close to healing up all the way, he’d crawl into your bed with you when you were asleep. Why he’d pepper your shoulders with tender kisses while your eyes would flutter with peaceful dreams. Jason wanted you to know how much he adored you… yet he was terrified of you being caught in the middle. Of the risk of you getting injured or worse… dying.

May the Joker never catch wind of your existence or he’d go even more insane… Jason didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to be abandoned and forgotten.

So when he found out how kind you were to Dick, he almost lost his damn mind. Why did you associate with that traitor?! Dick wasn’t worthy of you… he had everything.

Jason had to take in a deep breath. You weren’t aware of his history, so he couldn’t blame you… but he hated that Dick’s body touched your precious hands. He’d have to make a move soon… he wouldn’t let Dick win

Meanwhile, Dick had no idea you associated with Jason nor that Jason was even alive. You were his latest crush. The only girl who didn’t want to use him…

For the first time in his life, Dick was shy. His cheeks would always flush whenever you’d give him that sugary sweet smile. Heavens you were a sight to behold… the apple of his eye

He believed he was the only one in your orbit… how was he to know there was another man who coveted you?

So he’s shocked when Red Hood pulls a gun on him and warns him to “stay away from you or he’d put a bullet between his eyes.”

You knew this hooligan? Dick had no idea you were in such danger… don’t worry! Dick would save you!

Now you were in a very difficult predicament… you were stuck in the middle of two extremely competitive siblings

[messenger-of-babel]

Just Like Him

Summary: When you argue with Jason, you slowly start seeing less of Jason Todd and more of Bruce Wayne. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 1.9K

Notes: I legit came back home from a night out and sat here editing this till 3am cause I refused to miss a post haha. A little bit shorter due to that and I'll do a second look over it later. Only warning for this is mentions of violence as usual for most of these, and that it hasn't been as edited cleanly as usual. Tomorrow's post might be really delayed too since I've got events tomorrow too. Anyways, enjoy my Lovelies~! xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You had loved Jason. You did love Jason.

You loved the boy who was too awkward to hold your hand when you went out in public, who left you notes at your door when he was too frustrated and too pent up to explain himself properly. You loved his habits, his quirks, the way that he cooked you food if he knew he was going to be out for a few days, silently leaving it in the fridge in the hopes you’d keep yourself healthy.

You also loved the dark sides of him, the nightmares he woke up to, skin sticky with sweat. You loved him even when his eyes were lost in the darkness, unable to tell who you were exactly but still seeking the comfort of your arms to shield him. You loved him even when he tensed outside in public, a sound, a smell, setting him off and making him clench onto your hand. His eyes were scared, but you didn’t mind bringing him back into reality, letting him know that you were here for him. 

Yet on nights like these, you love for him faltered slightly. These were the nights that you couldn’t temper, the ones here he burned angrily and bit hard. He was currently pacing the kitchen, hands in his hair after a rough patrol. 

“You just don’t understand.” He murmured over and over. “Maybe you just don’t get it. Maybe you just never will. How could you even try to?” 

That hurt you, the way he talked like you weren’t even there. Like you weren’t in tears on the other side of the kitchen island. Like you hadn’t been having this argument for an hour how, sunset drinking its way into the dusk. 

This was the part of Jason that hurt you, the coarse side that snarled and growled at you like he was an injured dog. The side that looked at you with those striking green eyes narrowed into slits, who spat words like he’d never seen you before.

“I do understand Jason.” I you sigh. “You want to protect this city, you want to change Gotham, but don’t you dare tell me what I know or don’t, when I’m asking you to just be home more. Is it really that hard to protect the city and go out for a date?” You sigh, heart beginning to falter under the scrutiny of his gaze. “I know you can’t always be there. Neither can I, but please,” you say, folding your arms across your chest. “Please be there for me.”

“I am.” He groans back out, making a flicker of irritation spark in you. 

“Not you’re not.” You counter. “You leave dates, you leave dinners, you don’t come home some nights. No warning, no text, no notice.” You snap back.  “Being there for me is being at those dinners, going on those dates, coming home, spending time in bed with me.” You snap. "it's not cold sheets, cold food, cold feet on date nights. Step up."

He throws his hands up in the air, teeth clenched. "Can't you see I'm trying to save the city? trying to stop it from eating itself from the inside? You know its corrupted, you know about the violence. Hell, you got shot." he snaps back. His fists are tightly clenched by his side, eyes burning into yours. You stare back at him defiantly, and it makes the frustration in him rise.

He knows he's not good at words, knows that he's rough around the edges. The voice in his head tells him that when he sits up at night, when he finally comes home. His head leans back against the headboard whole you sleep peacefully beside him, rolled completely onto your side. His fingers twist in the sheets, as it speaks at him, tells him that he's not good enough to be with you. That the city isn't safe enough, that he needs to make it safer. He wasn’t the safest out of Batman's gang of protegees. He had a hit list that had started while he was just a young teenager and continued to have names added every other week. He'd been shot at, stabbed, thrown into and off of buildings, and that was something he was fine with. that was his job, his burden.

But when you got shot, that's when life really had caught up with him. It was like he had been living his life in slow motion up until that point, until it all rushed forward like a wave on double speed. He hadn't erven been there, halfway across town with Nightwing on some stakeout when he got the call. Dick had let him go without a word, merely watching him speed away on his bike before calling in backup from the cave to replace him. He didn't care that Bruce would get mad at him for abandoning his post, he could go to hell. What he cared about was you, and the fact that he hadn't been able to protect you, been able to stop it from happening. He heard about it only when the hospital called him, informing him that you were being prepped for surgery immediately.

How bad was it? Was it just one shot? Did it go cleanly through? Where were you hit? What calibre? What make? What model? Where did it take place?

Those were all questions that Red Hood might have been allowed to ask if he had worn the mask and marched through the emergency department, but he couldn’t do that. If he did it would be a giant target on your back, associating you with his vigilante life in the most obvious way possible. Instead, he had to race through the doors breathless as Jason Todd, the worried boyfriend who had to be held back by security trying to get to your ward.

 You had of course recovered, learnt to walk again on the leg that caught a stray bullet from a gang shoot out in Lower Gotham. It had been worryingly close to your artery, but you had pulled through. Jason couldn’t deny the fact that his status as a Wayne kid helped your care and the way the hospital aided your recovery. With a harsh word, Jason could have any of their licenses revoked.

That's why Jason did it. To make sure that the fear that gripped his heart that night never had the chance to wrangle him like that again. He'd fight night after night and come home with a string of broken and bloodied knuckles if it meant that you would be okay. It's all he can think about as he stares you down in the kitchen, watching your jaw twitch.

"Don't you dare use the fact that I got shot, against me." you seethe, hand coming up to point at him. "That wasn’t my fault, and it could have happened to anyone in the town, it's Gotham, Jason." you bite back, and he throws his hands up.

"That's exactly the problem! It's Gotham." he shouts. "You can get shot, or stabbed, or killed. Anyone can. one day you're here, the next you ain't. You really want to go out there, sweetheart? You got shot and you want to tell me not to clean the streets up? The sheets are cold? Well, they'd be a lot colder if you were dead." he spits back, and you are too stunned to say anything. You shake your head, a look of realisation coming over you.

"Oh my god," you breathe out. "you're just like Bruce. You’re no better."

That makes something in his freeze, halting all of his movements and shutting down his train of thought. You see it, see the way his bright green eyes widen and his head tilts slightly, making the white tuft in his hair flop over his eyes as you continue. "You're so obsessed with cleaning up the city. So obsessed with fighting out there that you can't give it up even for a second. You both can't. You criticize the man, tore him apart for his neglect just to do the exact same god damn thing.” Tears begin to prick your eyes in helplessness, lump building in your throat.

"You can’t see yourself out of that stupid helmet." you say, choking up as the tears clog your vision. "When was the last time that you read?" you ask, sniffling. "When was the last time you did a hobby, or rode your bike as a civilian? When's the last time we went on a date or held hands, or went to the park, or the library or anywhere?" you yell at him, hand coming to claw at your heart.

"When was the last time you were Jason?" you whisper softly. "Because right now, I feel like Jason Todd has died for a second time." you choke out. "Except this time, it wasn’t Joker who killed him."

You wipe your eyes with your sleeve while you leave him stunned, pushing past him to go into your bedroom. When the door slams harshly it snaps him out of the stupor he had found himself in, body swivelling on his heel immediately to follow you.

 You didn't respond to his soft knocking at the door, or his calls. You didn’t accept the apologies he murmured into the wood, didn't bother to listen to his promises or ways that he swore he could make it better. It was only when he began knocking desperately, worrying building, that you swung it open violently.

Your face is a mess, sticky with tears and chin wet. Your breath comes out in small hiccups as you try to collect yourself, still mid sob as you shout at him. "Couch." you seethe, your puffy eyes glaring at him with a hurt filled dagger before the door slammed in his face. He sighed, forehead against the wood before pushing off the door frame with a click of his tongue. He plops down onto the living room couch with a groan, legs thrown over the side to try and accommodate for his size. He raises an arm to cover his eyes, other arm grabbing a couch cushion and bringing it to his chest.

"You're just like Bruce, no better." rattled around in his skull, making him chew at his lip. He didn’t like that. He didn’t like being compared to Bruce, even if he respected the man at times. He had come back, intending to be everything for others that Bruce had failed to be for him. Yet according to you, he was walking the same steps the man before him had traced.

Was he really no better than Bruce?

He groans and removes his arm from his eyes. He casts them over to the turned off TV, catching the sight of a much younger Robin peering back at him. With a smile the boy took off the domino mask and revealed the childish figure that was young Jason Todd. He raises a hand to his face as well, mirroring what he had just seen the reflection do. Except when he pulled his hand away, studying the digits instead of the TV screen, he could still see the remnants of the Hood he failed to leave at the door.

[sanguineterrain]

window pains | jason todd

Summary: He's got a habit of coming in through the window. You want him to start staying... and using the door. 

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings/tags: injured Jason Todd (he's okay dw), angst, pining, mentions of Jason's death.

A/N: sooo.... i guess i'm a dc girlie now. just a reminder that every character i write will always be 18+!!! this is probably canon divergent but we make our own canon.

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

"Can't you enter my apartment like a normal person?"

"You know who you're talking to, right?"

"You're getting blood on my carpet, Todd."

It doesn't really matter. He'll come back and scrub it out as soon as his ribs are whole. And fuck if he's not good at getting blood out of surfaces. Jason Todd ought to start a housekeeping column. 

You catch his limp as he climbs over the windowsill. It almost topples him, but he gets to the couch before it does. He doesn't make a sound. 

That had freaked you out the first few times he'd stumbled through your window. Once, he came with part of a windshield wiper impaled in his shoulder. He'd lain on your couch so still and so quiet, you'd thought Red Hood had croaked in your apartment. Which would not have been a good look for you. Or maybe it would. Depends on who you ask. 

Sometimes you want to tell him to make sounds. To hiss and grunt and complain. To grab your wrist so you'll slow down as you pull thread through flesh. 

But it's not your place to request such a thing. You don't know where you reside in Jason Todd's life, but it's not somewhere where you can request to hear him hurt. 

Outwardly, his injuries aren't bad-looking. He takes off his helmet and tosses it somewhere under the coffee table. You offer a hand to help him lie down on the couch—he doesn't take it. 

"Jesus Christ, Jay." You suck in a sharp breath and peel back his bloody suit. "What'd you do?"

"Took a midnight stroll in the Botanical Gardens. Why, what'd you do?"

You frown, eyebrows pinching in the center of your forehead. Jason's stomach is mottled with purple and red bruises. There's a sticky gash right above his hip. A knife. Or a sword, maybe. Apparently, swords are commonplace in Gotham. 

"How'd they get you?" you ask. 

It's a rule-break. Jason's number one policy: don't ask questions.

You always do. Even when it was new, this… thing between you two, you'd ask. Who were they? Why did they hurt you? Did you hurt them back?

The last one, you always know the answer to. 

"There were, like, ten of them," he says. "Cut me some slack, will ya?" 

He has a cut across his lips. A ringed finger that caught on his skin, you guess. You wonder if he'd wince if you kissed him. If he'd wince at the pain or the kiss itself. If you'd know the difference. 

Rage suddenly cuts through you. It makes your hands careless, cruel; you pull the bandage around his waist too tight. Jason coils up slightly. 

"Jesus—ever heard of bedside manner?" he asks, looking at you through his lashes. 

"Ever heard of not breaking into someone's apartment and making them patch you up?"

"I don't make you," Jason says easily. "You wouldn't do it if you didn't want to."

That only increases your rage. Because he's right. You wouldn't be here if you didn't want to be. You'd have kicked him out four first aid kits ago if you minded. 

You yank down his shirt and pack up the kit. Jason shifts on the couch. A sliver of skin above his waistband is still exposed. You have to turn your head to force your gaze away. 

"No bandaids?" he asks. "All my cuts'll be exposed to the elements."

"You can put them on yourself." 

His cheek could use one. And his eyebrow. You're not in the mood. 

Jason doesn't say anything in response to that. You get up to put the kit back under the sink. 

"Can I crash here?" 

"Do what you want," you say, suddenly exhausted. Like it's you who just went six rounds with Gotham's scumbags.

You peek over the kitchen counter when you hear rustling and the couch springs squeak. Jason leans heavily on the arm of the couch, reaching for the window. You walk over and stand in front of him. 

"What're you doing?" you ask. 

"You want me to go," he says flatly. "So I'm going."

"I didn't say that, I said—"

"I can read between the lines." 

"If you could read between the lines as well as you think you can, we wouldn't be in this situation," you say. 

"What situation?"

You turn your head. "Nothing."

Jason steps towards the window. You block him again. 

"What is the matter with you?" you ask. "You're injured. Lie down."

"I'm not your responsibility," he says, glaring. "I'm leaving."

"No, you're not. And since you're allergic to using the door, you don't have a choice."

Jason's eyebrow rises. "Are you saying you'd physically prevent me from leaving?"

You lift your chin. "If that's what it takes."

"Hm. Can't tell if your confidence is stupid or brave."

"Lie the fuck down, Todd."

His lip curls. "I don't stay where I'm not welcome."

Sometimes you forget how young he is. Not that you're not also young, but, well… you don't feel your youth as acutely as other people your age might. It's something you two have in common. 

Here, in the gritty glow of Gotham, you are reminded that Jason Todd died once. Before he finished school. Before he fell in love. 

Your stomach churns every time you see that Y-shaped scar on his torso, strapped over him like a chain. 

"I didn't say that you're not welcome," you say. 

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to."

He sags against the couch and it occurs to you that he's as exhausted as you feel. 

"Can you just—" You touch his bicep. He winces even though there's no injury there. "Can you just lie down?" 

You stare at each other for another minute. Slowly, Jason lays down. His eyes are alert instead of heavy with sleep. Instantly, you feel guilty for making him think he has to be cautious around you. His hand curls protectively over his stomach. 

"Do you want a blanket?" you ask. 

He squints. "It's August."

"I know, I… I thought maybe the blood loss made you cold." 

"'M fine. Perks of being risen from the dead." 

You watch him get settled for a minute. He shifts his weight to his uninjured side and meets your gaze. His eyes are gray in the weak light. 

"You're tired of me," he says. 

Your head snaps up. "No, I'm not."  

"You are."

"I'm not tired of you, Jay."

You see it. The fear. He thinks this is the last time you'll let him in. He doesn't know you can't lock him out. You won't. 

You get up and go to get the kit from the sink again. Jason follows your movement the whole time. His face scrunches in confusion when you sit in front of the couch and unzip the kit. 

You pull out the tiny red bandaids. You'd bought them as a joke, initially. It had made Jason laugh and that had been reason enough to keep buying them. And then he let you actually put them on.

You peel the adhesive off of one and gently stick it on his cheek. He blinks at you, thick, dark lashes kissing the corners of his eyes. 

"I'm not tired of you," you say softly. 

"I'd be tired of me." 

"You keep this city safe. How could I be tired of Gotham's defender?"

Jason scowls and turns his head into the cushion before you can put the second bandaid.  

"I'm not its defender. The others protect this city a hundred times better. Nightwing does it with a smile on his face."

"I like that you go out there even when it's hard, Jay," you say. 

He doesn't respond. You lean in, so close that you can count the freckles on his neck. 

"Can I finish putting the bandaids on?" you ask. 

"I don't need 'em."

"You do. You need another on your forehead."

"It'll heal fine without it."

Your shoulders bunch like a cat on defense. You grab his cheek (gently, always gently) and his head whips to yours in surprise. 

"Jason Todd, I am not tired of you. I'm tired of the fact that you only come by when you need fixing."

He scowls. "I never asked you to fix me. If you want me to leave, I'll leave."

"I don't want you to leave, I want you to stay!" you burst. 

Jason scoffs. "No, you don’t. I'll overstay my welcome real fast."

"Maybe I care about you on purpose!" you say, voice rising. "Maybe I didn't stumble through a window; maybe I walked through the door and bought the bandaids and learned how to stitch wounds because I wanted to."

He suddenly looks overcome by grief. The agony in his face startles you. 

"I don't know how to use the door anymore," he says quietly. "All I do is stumble through windows."

Your hand slips off of his cheek. Jason closes his eyes; they fly open when you stick the second bandaid above his eyebrow. 

"You can come in any way you want to," you say, face an inch away from his. "As long as you come back to me."

His gaze darts to your mouth. You don't kiss him hard. He breaks anyway.

You avoid the right side of his mouth entirely, not wanting to pull at his cut. Jason shudders into your mouth. You cup his pulse through his neck and it quickens.

His eyes are wet when you pull away. His chest heaves like he's been swinging through the city. 

"I wanna try to use the door," he says. 

You touch the bandaid on his cheek, humming. 

"Then I'll leave it unlocked." 

[dahliakbs]

BatFam! x Toddler! (GN!) Reader

Including: Jason Todd, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake

Masterlist

Thinking of batfam with a toddler reader who they have to babysit every other day.

Dick Grayson -

- Like whenever reader needs anything they immediately go to Dick, not even realizing that they're hurting the rest in the process.

- Like Bruce could be right Infront of them but they immediately waddle all the way over to Dick.

- He'll sit down and watch anything you want to watch or take you anywhere (but the batcave)in the manor.

- He'll never take you on patrol, your to young! Matter of fact he won't take you outside of the manor period. Your whole world is inside the manor.

Dick would never take you out of the manor but whenever Jason is home it's a whole different story.

Jason Todd -

As soon as gets back to the manor he's immediately heading to your room and taking you out to explore the world... without permission of course.

- Like Tim comes to your room to hang out after a long day of school work only to find that your not in your room nor in the house in general. Instead your somewhere in the most dangerous city in the world with a crime lord.

-But fret not, Jason's just taking you to the most secluded book store in Gotham to introduce you to the world of books.

- Either that or he's got you strapped to his back like a backpack fighting random thugs in the most dangerous alleyways in the Gotham.

Sibling bonding time is what he likes to call it!

Don't worry, at some point he'll return you home and by return I mean he'll ring the door bell, drop you off on the door step and run away as fast as he can so he doesn't get lectured by Alfred.

Tim Drake

With Tim there have been a lot of instances where you end up injured or somewhere your not supposed to be.

- Like that one time he had to babysit you but he also had school so he place you inside of his backpack along with a couple of your favorite snacks and told you to not come out unless he tells you to.

-Then in the middle of class everyone just sees a toddler's head peeking out of his bag.

- And everyone is so shocked that when you get out of the bag and waddle out the room they don't say anything. Tim doesn't even notice cause he's already face first into his notebook trying to catch some z's.

- Then a couple minutes later he's called to the principal's office to find out that you somehow got into the swimming room, slipped on the wet tiles, hit your knee on the edge of the swimming pool and somehow fell in.

-After that you were never allowed to go outside of the manor.

[unknownplane]

The Court Jester Part 1

Yandere Batfam x GN Reader

Pt. 2, Pt. 3

"How did this happen?" the man who claimed to be my father asked.

"It started when I was young. My mother was close friends with Bruce Wayne. So when she died, he decided to take me in. Looking back on it now, I can tell it was just so he could have a piece of her even though she was gone. He, like many other men were infatuated with the idea of her and what could happen if they had her. That is how I came along. Someone couldn't keep their hands to themselves. Nobody, but my father knows that they are my father. We have tried finding him before, but there has been no luck.

I was 4 when I was brought to the manor. Bruce, overwhelmed with anguish, couldn't even look at me as I had my mother's features. Alfred showed me around. I even got to meet my new brother Richard, better known as Dick. An accurate nickname because as soon as he met me, he decided he did not want to be around me. That was fine. I was still dealing with the loss of my mother. As time went on, I felt as if I was forgotten. Bruce was busy throwing himself into "work" and he only needed Dicks help. It didn't take me long to figure out who he was. With all the bruises and tension around the house when things got bad in Gotham anyone living in that house could tell he was Batman. He had claimed he didn't want me to get hurt that's why he never asked for help but I knew it was because I looked like mom. I had her (h/c) (h/t) hair and her (e/c) eyes.

A couple of years later, a new boy came into the mix. His name was Jason Todd. He was okay. He didn't really know when to stop, though. I heard a lot of fights between him and Bruce. He talked to me sometimes when we had time. I was in school getting good grades and he was a Robin so we didn't have much time for each other. But then he died, and I had no one again. Even when he did come back, he came back changed he no longer cared for me. He was harsh. Ruined.

Then there was Tim Drake. He was really nice at the beginning, but he got busy and sleep deprived, so I stopped reaching out. I didn't want to take up his time as he had an actual job.

Then Stephanie Brown came, and I realized that there was a pattern. These people were too busy for me. I should stay out of their way and not be a burden as I have proven to be before.

It was like that until Damian came. He was unlike all the other Robins. He was mean and brutal. It was around this time that I started to reach out to the family. I had realized I had severe depression and self esteem issue from being the only one in this family that did not excel at anything. When I reached out, he was the one who but me back in my place. He was the one who told me to stay in the background where I belonged. And I might have if I was still the child that came here unwillingly at 3 years old, but I am no longer that child. I am an adult who has a degree in psychology and has a stable job. So I left.

When I first moved out, the first person I told was my online friend. I had been in contact with him since I was 5. He was like a father to me. He was very happy for me and told me, "You are finally free from that dreadful house!" and I couldn't agree more. I stayed in contact with him over the years, and our bond strengthened.

Then, one day, not even a month after I left the manor, he asked to meet up. I agreed. We met up at an abandoned wearhouse. He had told me he was a wanted man, so I did not mind. When I saw him, my face lit up as did his. We talked about a lot of things that night. One of which was if I wanted to help him in his endeavor. Chaos. And I gladly agreed as I would do anything for him as he was my father.

He soon started training me. Making sure I could deal with pain and know how to fight. The first week was agony, but then we both realized something. No matter how badly I was injured, it never had reproductions as the injuries would heal almost supernaturally. So soon, we started experimenting. Of course, I still felt pain, but anything for my dad. We found that no matter what happened to me, I couldn't die.

Then, I became strong enough to take part in one of his acts. Which leads us to now. Dies that answer your question?" I say, looking into the desperate eyes of The Batman with an elongated smile. Glee shined in my eyes as I finally had his attention.

"But SHHHH dad doesn't want to know your secret identity! Says it would ruin all the fun!" I proclaim. My teeth are fully showing as I giggle.

"What did I do wrong?" Bruce whispers to himself. As if he didn't already know. This was all his fault, and now the last piece he had of (M/N) was out of reach.

-------------------------------------------------------

Hello!! This is my first time writing on Tumbler and just wanted to say Hi. Please let me know if you want this to continue. If it does, updates would probably be slow as I am in college and am using this as an artistic outlet. Thank you so much for reading!!

[indulgentdaydream]

Can you write something where the reader is badly injured in some way and jason rushes her to the manor for help and everybody is confused on who she is bc they didnt even know he was in a relationship (despite them being together for awhile) but they see how soft and cute he is with her. (I’ve never made a request so sorry if it got kinda rambley)

anon you’ve got me TEEMING with ideas I LOVE the trope of nobody knowing jason has a girlfriend and they find out but it is NOT by Jason’s choice nor reader’s.

Also omg? Your first ask is to lil ol me?? That means this is a special occassion. And you’re doing great I’ve def sent worse asks.

Out of the Bag

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader || Hurt and Comfort.

Word Count: 1,862

Warnings: Injuries, swearing, near death experience, blood, knife mention, stabbing, canon-typical violence, use of pet names (princess, baby), drug (pain med) use

You were sat in an alleyway, vision going in and out.

“Tell me something, princess. Anything.” Jason’s voice rang out in your ear.

That’s right. In your right hand, you held your phone, to your ear. Your other hand was pressing the fabric of your coat to the side of your stomach. The blood had soaked through, becoming sticking on your palm and fingers.

You should’ve listened to Jason. You shouldn’t have walked home alone, at night. Luckily your phone had been in your pocket and not your purse, which had been stolen from you by the same guy who decided to stab you.

“Princess,” he sounded panicked.

Right. “Wish I had kicked him harder.”

You heard a sigh of relief leave him, “That’s my girl.”

The phone slipped from your grip a little as your head swam. The sight of blood coming from your own abdomen made no help in quelling your nausea.

You fixed the phone. You had called Jason the second the guy ran off, leaving you to bleed out. He was driving, you think. Tracking your phone to try and get to you. “How far?”

He said something you didn’t hear. Your vision was swimming, your side was aching, and you couldn’t help but keep this funny understanding out of your mind that you were dying.

That this is something Jason had come back to your apartment with a few times, claiming it was nothing. It was something.

You heard him call your name, “What’s around you?”

“I’m tired,” you mumbled.

It seemed to happen in a blink of an eye. Jason was trying to tell you to stay awake, to look at the alley around you. To look out towards the street and tell him what you saw. Then he was there, standing in front of you, his helmet hiding his face.

“I’m here. I’m here, baby.” He cupped your face, tapping your cheek to get you to open up your eyes. He crouched down, pulling your hand from your side to assess the damage.

You smiled lazily and leaned forward, resting your forehead against his shoulder.

Jason muttered a slew of swears as he pressed something soft yet hard against your agonizing wound. You let out a yelp before Jason was picking you up, placing you on his bike.

He’s talking fast, “Fuck. Okay, listen to me. We’re going to go somewhere new, okay? There’s nowhere around here except there for me to get you safe.”

You passed out nearly as soon as he started the bike.

Jason’s freaking. He had tried to keep you safe from anything like this. From everything less than this. And here you were, bleeding out in his arms as he carried you through the batcave. He beelined for the cots and the medical supplies off to the side. He knows his motorcycle couldn’t have been the smoothest of rides for someone in your condition, but it’s all he had in such a short time span.

He’ll apologize when you wake up.

When. He repeats. When she wakes up and when we can get the hell out of this place again and when I can remind her I love her.

No one was back from patrol yet. He set you down on the cot before tearing off his helmet. He tossed it aside, pulling out a med bag and ripping it open. He pushed up your shirt, examining your side and where he had placed the military-grade gauze pad. He curses at the amount of blood.

His hands are shaking. Jason’s hands don’t shake, but you’ve proven to him a lot of things you could make him do that he hadn’t known he was capable of in the last year and (almost) a half of your relationship.

Jason nearly drops the suture thread before another hand is reaching out from just behind him. It catches the thread and Jason looks back over his shoulder. Alfred’s there, moving up to you.

“Allow me. You keep checking her vitals.”

Jason hadn’t even heard him come up. He’s nodding, stepping back to let Alfred take over the stitching. He moves to the other side of the bed.

That’s when he catches sight of the dark figure moving closer from behind Alfred. Jason immediately fixes him with a deadly glare, pointing at Bruce, “Do not come closer!”

Bruce stills. He’s in his bat suit, his cowl hanging behind his head, exposing his face. He looks down to your body, “Who is she?”

Jason doesn’t want him here. Rather, he doesn’t want to be here. You should’ve been home by now. Getting ready for bed and sending him a goodnight text. He turns his gaze back to you.

There’s some hair across your face that he hadn’t noticed. He moves it out of your way without a second thought, “My girlfriend.”

“Finally feel some remorse for sending someone to their grave, Todd?” Damian’s voice spoke up, walking up and stopping beside Bruce, “He’s probably trying to just reverse what he did.”

Jason ignores him. He wants to yell, scream, and maybe shoot the little bastard, but he was right. In a way, this was his fault. He didn’t look after you. He should’ve offered you a ride. Called you a taxi. An uber. Anything.

Jason grips your hand into his. It’s a way to count your heartbeat, and another way to ground himself. To reassure that you’ll be okay. His other hand stays on your cheek. His thumb gently moves back and forth, stroking your skin.

He barely registers Bruce telling Damian to go wash up. When the brat is gone, Bruce speaks up again, “What happened?”

Jason doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “She was walking home from her friend’s. A mugger got her purse, she fought back. He stabbed her.” Jason takes a deep breath, “She still had her phone. She called me. I brought her here because it was closest.”

A beat of silence. Still stitching you up, Alfred speaks, “How come we’ve never been introduced?”

Jason shakes his head, “I didn’t want her near any of this. She’s bad off enough sticking with me.”

Once you stabilize, Jason brings you up to his room in the manor. He walks past Dick, Tim, Duke, Cass, and Steph without looking at them. They sit around the batcomputer, watching Jason gently carry you out ot the cave.

He changes you out of your dirty clothes once he makes a run back to your apartment to grab you some of your own spare clothes.

Asides from that, he doesn’t leave your side.

He lets you have the bed to yourself. He pulls up a chair beside it, waiting for you to wake up. He didn’t want you to be alone when you did, in a strange place after a traumatic event. It was a recipe for disaster.

The sun’s been up for a long while and Jason hasn’t budged. He sits there, your hand gripped in both of his, held up and pressed against his mouth. His lips brush over your knuckles whenever he speaks up. Uttering a “I’m sorry.” every now and then.

There’s a light knock at the door before it’s cracking open. Jason turns his head to find Dick poking his head in. Jason glares at him.

Dick steps further in, presenting the tray he was holding. There were two glasses of water, some solid foods, and lighter ones, probably for you. Jason looked back down at you, letting his older brother enter.

“Just… figured since you’ve been cooped up in here all day,” Dick begins, setting the tray down on the beside table beside Jason.

Dick moves back around. He stands at the end of the bed, leaning against the tall bed post that was meant to hold up a canopy. “I heard…” he trails off, before nodding and your body in the bed, still unconscious, “Who is she?”

Jason looks up at his brother, not letting go of your hand, “So you haven’t heard.”

Dick rolls his eyes, “You know what I mean.”

Jason raises his brows a little. He looks back down at you. His hand reaches out to brush along your forehead, moving away imaginary stray hairs, “My girl.”

Dick nods in understanding, “How long you two been together.”

Jason pauses in thought, “Over a year. Our anniversary was in December.”

A small, choked sound comes from outside the door, in the hallway. “A year?”

Jason looks up at Dick, who makes a face that shows he’s knows he’s been caught.

“Are they seriously listening right now?”

Steph poked her head in first, an apologetic smile on her face, “We wanted to know!”

Duke pokes his head in next, just above Steph’s, “And we wanted to meet her.”

Tim’s head in next, above Duke’s, “You can’t carry a random bleeding woman into the cave and expect the family of detectives to not be curious.”

Cass’ head appears below Steph’s. She nods in agreement.

Jason let’s one hand go of yours to wave his hand through the air, “What the fuck? She’s not even awake!”

“Well that’s why we sent Dick as bait.”

“For the record,” Dick held up a finger, “They built off of my original, innocent idea of bringing you snacks.”

“Jesus Christ,” Jason stands up, taking a few steps forward. He points them all back towards the door as they start to filter into the room, “Get—“

“What’s going on…?”

Jason’s whole body whipped back around at the sound of your groggy, rough voice. The others watch as he’s back at your side in a millisecond, his whole demeanour changed. “Hey, you’re okay. Everything’s okay. Remember how I said we were going somewhere new? You thirsty, baby? Here, I got you some water.”

“Oh, you certainly did not get the water,” Dick piped up.

Jason glared back over his shoulder as he held the glass of water for you, keeping the straw Dick had added placed in your mouth.

You stopped drinking, your eyes now on the other people in the room. You turned your head, propped up against pillows Jason had put there for you. You weakly raised your left hand to wave, “Hi… oh?” your gaze turned down to your hand. A heart monitor clip sitting on your finger grabbed your attention. You gave a confused pout at it, “I feel funny.”

Jason set the water aside again. His glare was gone. He leaned in, kissing your forehead, “You’re hopped up on pain meds. That’s why, princess.”

“Damn,” Steph spoke up, “I wish I got the literal princess treatment.”

Jason turned back around, pointing out the door, “Get. Out. Leave my girlfriend alone until she’s better.”

You looked at the strangers, pointing at Jason with your left hand, “I’m his girlfriend.” Your head tilted back against the pillows as you stared up at Jason, pursing your lips, "I’m tired.”

“I know,” Jason said softly. The others began to filter out of the room as he leaned down and gave you a soft kiss, this time on the lips.

From the exit, a collective, “Awwww,” sounded out.

“Out!”

Your drugged up voice came after his, once they were all back in the hall, “Nice to meet you!”

[jasmines-library]

This might be a weird request, but can you take your favorite song and make a batfam story with it? I saw the “Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?” fic and immediately folded I loved it so much <3 <3 <3

The Ghost of You.

YES YES YES! It's really hard for me to just pick one song, but this came to mind so i thought i'd give it a go. Also this probably wasn't what you were after anon, so i'm sorry. You're all going to hate me after this :(

Summary: After your death, the batfam struggle to navigate their lives without you.

Warnings: This fic deals with death (mildly graphic) and the aftermath, contains suicidal thoughts, grief, unhealthy ways of processing grief and some other heavy content so please be advised.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

I never said I'd lie and wait forever

If I died, we'd be together

I can't always just forget her

But she could try

Tim was the first to arrive too late.

Your body had already careened over to the side, collapsing into a puddle of your own blood. Tim faltered as he made his way over to you, gawping at the arrows that protruded gruesomely from your stomach, your shoulder and the back of your knee. That was what had taken you down: a well placed shot to the back of the joint. The other two followed as insurance. To ensure that you would bleed out. 

And even though Tim was right there, he faltered. Even though he could see the way your chest spluttered as you fought for air, he couldn’t bring himself to move. His hands shook. His lips trembled. And if anyone was focusing hard enough they would have been able to see the glint as water collected in his eyes. 

Then came Jason, grappling down from the building. He had heard it before he saw it. Grimacing at the way your cry was followed by two more, he was gripped tight by a fit of rage. Mercilessly he took out the two crooks in front of him so he could dash to your side. He should have been helping Nightwing and Batman, but at that moment all he could focus on was your safety. 

He managed to gather himself up enough to try and press around the arrows, but your blood pooled through the fabric of your suit and your breathing had slowed to nearly nothing. Tim had finally got himself to move and he was sure that he heard someone call your name. Though he couldn’t remember if it was himself or Jason. Either way he too pressed down harshly around the arrow to try and staunch the blood flow. And it should have hurt. God, you should have been thrashing and screaming. But you just lay there, spluttering as you faded. Tim didn’t know what was worse; but he came to the conclusion that the sound of your agonised scream was better than waiting in this near listless silence. 

“Just hold on, Raven.” Jason. But you would have never guessed it from the way his normally firm voice wavered. “We’re going to get you to help…j-just a little longer. 

Then you moved. Your hands shifted to lay atop of theirs and you strained your head to see them. Tim’s stomach dropped as you looked at him with your hooded eyes and small smile. A gesture of consolidation. You were trying to tell them that it was okay. It made Tim want to hurl. How could you be thinking of them in a time like this?

 “Y/N..?” Tim muttered. He should have used your vigilante name. He didn’t care. 

“s’okay” you slurred as your eyes fluttered at him. You could no longer make out much as your vision became a blur of colour. Jason palled at the sight of the crimson that stained your teeth as a sickening contrast to the paleness of your skin. He wanted to look anywhere else, like to Dick and Damian who were still trying to take down the criminals who just wouldn’t quit, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of your face. 

“S’gonna b-be ok..” 

“No…” Tim was crying now. They both were. Neither made any effort to try and hide it.

“P-promise you won’t do…any’thn stupid-” you mumbled.

Tim brushed his thumb over your hand. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to but he would. For you. “I promise…”

You wanted to turn your attention to Jason, but your eyes fluttered and you could feel your strength fading.

“ Love you…” Then, your chest rose… and fell as you took your final breath. 

~

At the end of the world or the last thing I see

You are never coming home, never coming home

Could I? Should I?

And all the things that you never ever told me

And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

The manor was silent. Deathly silent.

And even though the manor was the busiest it had been for a while it still seemed so empty. It was almost like the minute that your heart stopped pumping, so did all of the life in the manor. 

Dick hardly slept. He spent his nights staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts carry him away because if he didn’t his mind would torture him with pictures of you. He had thought about it. He had thought about it a lot actually. Especially after he had seen your body being lowered into the ground sealing you into nothingness. You were gone.

Dick remembered Jason and Tim uttering something about promising not to do anything stupid. But he wasn’t sure. They didn’t talk much anymore. He thinks he remembered them saying that they had promised you. But he hadn’t. And so the thought crossed his mind often. If he was only brave enough to do it. Oh, what he would jive to see even just a ghost of one of your charismatic grins again. Or to hear your laughter as you sang to your music poorly in your room across the hall. You often used to keep the door open, just a crack as a form of comfort blanket and that let your voice carry through the hall. But now the door was firmly closed. 

Pull yourself together. Dick blinked away the film that formed in his eyes. Though no tears fell; he had cried himself dry a long time ago. You wouldn’t want this. Dick had tried to tell himself. But it seemed everything he did reminded him of you. Reminded him how he was never going to see you again. And it hurt. You were still so young. You had your entire life ahead of you to live and Dick yeared to have seen it. But it was ripped away from you cruelly like candy from a child.

Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone?

And I remember now

Your bloodstained face was burned permanently into Tim’s mind. It was there every time his eyes drifted closed. 

Each time he finally got himself to sleep, there you were. Crying out his name. 

He should have been quicker. Tim scolded himself often for this. He thought that his fumble could have been the difference between you living and dying. But of course, he had frozen. His body had refused to function no matter how much his brain screamed at him to just move! But he was frozen. He remembered watching fearfully as Jason, who was much further away, dropped to his feet from above and tried feebly to help. If only he had been just that little bit quicker. If only he had been paying attention then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place. 

He was sitting in the batcave, staring blankly at the monitors. Not because he wanted to but because someone had to. Though him being there wouldn’t have made much difference. All of the shapes on the screen had blurred into one colour. 

Tim had never felt more lonely sitting in the plush chair because usually you would be there with him. Cracking a joke or two, or reminding him he needed to go to sleep with a gentle touch on the shoulder or his hand. Sometimes Tim thought he could still feel it. A phantom pain: like when someone loses a limb. 

You had become such an important part of his daily life that his body yeared for your touch or the sound of your voice. He yearned for the warmth of your fingers, but then remembered that the last time he felt them, they were ice cold and covered in your own blood. 

At the top of my lungs in my arms, she dies

She dies.

Jason was angry. He had never handled his grief well, even from a young age. And his coping mechanisms were far from healthy. Whilst his brothers spent their time reserved to themselves, Jason was searching for revenge. But he had promised you he wouldn’t do anything stupid. 

So he found his solitude in a punching bag. 

Your scream piercing through the air. A punch to the bag so hard that it swung violently on its bolt. 

The feeling of your blood trickling around his fingers. A right hook.

Your cold and clammy skin against his as he removed his gloves to trail his hands along your face. Another. 

Your last words falling from your tongue. Punch. 

Your chest rising as you spluttered. Punch. punch.

Your last exhale. Punchpunchpuch.

He kept going until his knuckles were a mangled and bloody mess and he felt like his jaw might snap from how much he had been clenching it. 

Jason didn’t bother to wrap his knuckles as he trudged towards the shower, despite how much they burnt and throbbed. But for some sick reason he couldn’t wrap his mind around, he savoured it. Almost as a punishment for not being able to save you. 

When he slipped into the shower, he still couldn’t stop the flood of images ricocheting around his head like a broken record that still somehow managed to play no matter how scratched up it was. He thought he might have found some solace in the feeling of the water trickling over his skin, but all he found was his mind confusing it for the feeling of your blood on his skin. 

Jason let out a cry of anguish, bringing his fists to clench at his hair as he sank to the floor and began to cry. 

And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me

For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me

If I fall, if I fall down

Damian had seen a lot of death in his life. That came as part of being a human weapon. But no death tore him up as much as yours.

He would forever remember the cold that gripped him when he saw Jason with your body in his arms. He had never felt so empty as Bruce tried to pull him away. Damian had fought against him, nearly clawing at his father to try and get to you, but Bruce just held him close and pressed Damians face into his chest to shield him from the horrors in front of him. But it was too late. He had already seen your mangled body and he couldn’t help the way his body trembled as he clung to Bruce like a scared little child. 

And Damian would never admit it, but he was scared. 

Scared of how everything would play out now that you were gone. Scared that you were angry at him for being so far away. Scared that because he wasn’t there when it mattered most, that it might happen again. 

He should have been there. Damian cursed to himself. 

He had been on the other side of the building trying to deal with the last of the crooks. Dick was with him for a time, but had finished up much earlier than Damian and had fled as soon as possible. Damian should have picked up then that something was wrong. 

But he didn’t.

And he was so frustrated with himself for not. He should have been better. Should have taken the criminal down with one blow and followed his brother to your side. Surely with all four of them there, you would have made it… right?

He wasn’t so sure. 

He wasn’t sure of much anymore. No one was. And they all felt so betrayed because you being by their sides was one of the things that kept them going everyday. And now…

One thing they did know for certain though was that you were gone. And no matter how much they yearned for you, you were never coming home.

🦇 BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hearts4robs

(I'm sorry.)

[thenyoumightaswellwrestleangels]

Do you know that I love you? (do you know that you shouldn't?)

love is not designed for the cynical - series masterlist here

pairing: jason todd x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.7k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending

warnings: jason's injured and there's blood but it's not too graphic, except that it describes giving stitches, sometimes people get mean when they get scared, biting like a misbehaved dog etc etc

a/n: there is a fatigue seeping into me that I fear is building a home inside my chest :) how are we all doing this evening do we like this are we excited for the dc event announcement on sunday

You hear another muffled curse from the other side of the bathroom door, Jason's voice tight with pain. The sound makes you press your lips together firmly, your jaw tense as you stand in the hallway of your shared home, leaning against the wall with your arms crossed.

"Jason -" you start again, but his voice cuts you off.

"No."

"Let me help you," you continue, an exasperated sort of fatigue in your voice. Somewhere in your kitchen, you know that the clock is ticking well past 4am. 

"You don't need to be here for this," Jason says stubbornly and you scowl at the closed door. You wonder, for just a moment, if he locked it - or if he simply trusts you enough to know that you won't go where you're not wanted.

"You can't put stitches in our back on your own," you say stubbornly, and a sigh is heard through the barrier between you as you thump your head back against the wall to stare at the dark ceiling. But then the door swings open slowly and Jason's face appears, haloed by the light pouring out of the bathroom.

"Help me, then," he says tightly, and you draw yourself up to a full stand, moving past him and into the small space. Jason sits on the edge of the bathtub and faces the wall while you rummage around the first aid kit, rolling his shoulders and wincing at the rushed, messy bandaging covering the slash across his back.

You don't say anything, of course - there's no need for an I told you so in a space like this, but you do click your tongue disapprovingly when you crouch behind him to pull back the bloody gauze.

"You don't need to be so stubborn about this, you know," you say softly as you begin to clean the damaged skin. There's no attack in your voice, no righteous demand that he become something that he's not.

It's just love… and the patience that comes with it. 

Jason sighs at your words, though, like he's being tried in court and found guilty. He shifts, his fists clenching as he hangs his head and stares down at the white porcelain of the bathtub and the bloody bandages that you've thrown in next to his feet, the red staining everything that it touches.

"I don't want you to have to see me like this," he says eventually, a tired sort of resignation in his voice. You huff out a breath.

"I've seen you dead, Jason," you point out flatly. "I'm not sure why you think this would be worse."

"Don't joke about it," he snaps before he can stop himself, something mean and angry flashing through him before regret begins to wash over him.

"Why do you think I'd joke about loving you?" You ask it quietly, pressing a needle to his skin as you begin to put him back together, as you smooth over wounds and blur out the scars that he's sure would bloom there without your help.

Jason sits quietly, lets his head hang as you work and listens to the slow rhythm of your breathing as you move your hands across his back, as you love him in the only way you know how.

"Sometimes, I just don't know what to do with you," he admits, his voice low and wavering. That makes you pause, makes your hands freeze for just a moment before they continue, slower now than before. 

"I suppose that was going to happen eventually," you offer softly. "Neither of us are really who we used to be… I'm not sure we can, I don't know, fall into step with each other the way we did before…"

"Before I died?" Jason supplies. You tap him on the back of the head with your knuckle in a reprimanding sort of way - just like you used to do when you were kids.

"Before we grew up, I was going to say," you explain dryly, and Jason laughs a bit, a huffed-out breath that he can't really find in himself to stop. You roll your eyes rather fondly and a quiet settles over the two of you, nothing but your breath mixing with his and the faint rustling of your working hands filling the space as he settles. 

But then you finish Jason's stitches, tying off the thread and taping down a new, clean bandage before tapping him on the shoulder lightly to let him know that you're finished. He swings one leg up and over so that he's straddling the edge of the tub and watches as you stand, wincing and letting your knees pop.

"You should've said something," he chastises gently as you lift one of your own legs into the tub, straddling the porcelain to sit face-to-face with him and let your knees bump against his.

"I don't mind," you say easily, and a frown tugs at Jason's lips.

"See, that's what I mean," he murmurs, smoothing his hands across your thighs to rub gentle circles over your knees where he's sure the tiled floor had been digging into your skin. "Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you."

"What do you mean?" You ask softly. Jason looks away, staring at the blood-soaked bandages sitting in the tub. You follow his gaze, of course, just enough to see what he's staring at and then look back at him with your head cocked curiously to the side.

"Sometimes you act like you don't care at all," he says flatly, his hands tightening their grip on your knees.

"When I act like I care, you act like it's killing you," you point out gently, watching as Jason's lips turn down into a scowl as he watches his own blood drip towards the drain.

"Sometimes I think it is," he says dully. You reach to brush a few of his curls back, his hair unruly and mussed from the night as sweat sticks to the strands.

"Then what do you want me to do, baby?" you ask quietly, letting your fingernails scratch over his scalp rhythmically as he sighs and closes his eyes and leans into your touch.

"I want you to let me see you," he replies honestly. "I want you to let me here there for you."

"Not sure you should be saying that," you respond easily. "Something about living in a glass house and all that."

"What do you mean?"

"You locked yourself in the bathroom to bleed out alone so that I wouldn't see it," you point out. There's no accusation in your voice, no cold, hard edge or betrayal to be heard. But Jason's shoulders tense all the same as he opens his eyes and takes your hand in his to press kisses across your knuckles. "You don't need to protect me from yourself," you continue gently. 

"Neither do you," he retorts, the same kindness and love coming back to you in waves.  

"I'm just…" you begin, letting your eyes flick around the bathroom as you feel yourself suddenly under scrutiny. "I'm trying to be there for you."

"That's my job," Jason says firmly. "You gotta let me be there for you." You sigh at that, something long-suffering and loving as you look back at him and lift a brow. 

"When are you going to learn that I love you?" You ask softly, and Jason looks at you like you've pointed a gun to his chest.

"When are you going to learn that you shouldn't?"

"I don't think you get to make that decision for me, Jay," you offer with a shrug. "I think I've earned the right to decide my own life." He sighs at that, looking at you like he loves you too much and doesn't know what to do with it, before he reaches for you.

"C'mere, baby," he says it quietly, a whisper pressed against you as he wraps his arms around your waist and hauls you into him, letting your thighs rest overtop of his as you settle into his lap. "You know I love you, too, right?" he asks softly, his lips pressing kisses over your cheeks.

"I know, Jay," you respond soothingly, tangling your hand into the hair at the nape of his neck. "Maybe we'd both… maybe we'd learn a thing or two from showing it more, hm?" Jason laughs at that, burying his face into your neck as he sighs and rocks the two of you back and forth gently.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours?" he offers, his voice muffled as his lips press against your skin. You tap your knuckles to his head in another chastising manner, but you also smile as you lean down to kiss the crown of his head. 

"I wouldn't mind that," you say quietly, and when Jason lifts his head to look at you, there's no hint of joking in your face. You smooth a hand over his cheek and he lilts his head to place a delicate kiss on your palm while you watch him, your eyes big and loving in a way that makes him feel a bit naked. 

"Yea?" his voice wavers as he asks, his hesitation festering inside him, but you just smile in that gentle, loving way of yours and smooth over the crease between his brows with your thumb.

"Yea," you say easily. "You're not hard to love, Jay. It just takes a bit of practice for us to learn how to give that love."

"And you'll stay with me long enough for me to learn?" 

"Long enough for us to learn," you correct gently, leaning into him to kiss him softly. "And hopefully a whole lot longer than that." He laughs against you at that, chasing your lips as his arms wrap around your waist a bit tighter.

"Well," he says as he pulls away just enough to let his lips brush against yours. "I'm sure as fuck not letting go." You laugh at that, something loud and honest and a bit more carefree than either of you are used to.

"Good," you say easily. "We'll do it together, then."

[jasntodds]

can i request a jason fic 🥺 i was reading through the prompt list and saw two ("here's a spare key, so you don't have to keep coming through the window" and "i didn't know you could cook this good") and i thought they'd make a cute setup for a friends to lovers moment 🥺 sorry for not being around! i've been struggling with reading on my phone for long periods of time the last few months 😭 -guiltywaves

@guiltywaves omg hey!! I love friends to lovers so much dkjf but no no it's totally okay!! No worries!! I totally understand!! It happens to me all the time lmao I'm so sorry this took so long!! I wanted it to be perfect and make sure it wasn't super long!! I hope you like it!!

Maybe I'll do a part 2

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Words: 3,045

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of injuries

masterlist | tag list | requests: open

Jason climbs through your window. A routine of sorts, really. After patrol, he comes by and always through your window. Sometimes he’s injured and lets you help him before you offer your couch to him. Sometimes he just stops by with a snack. But, he always comes in through the window.

Tonight is no different.

It’s after three when your window creaks open, Jason noting to himself to fix it for you. He crawls through your window, your apartment dark as it usually is when he comes by this late. He flips on the floor lamp to your living room before taking his helmet off and making his way to your kitchen to rest it on the table. He finds a note, your handwriting scribbled across the page containing Nightwing symbols at the corner.

Jason rolls his eyes but reads the note.

Leftovers in the fridge please eat

A smile tugs itself onto his lips before he pockets the note, folding it neatly beforehand. He’s quiet, reaching for the fridge where he finds the leftovers already in a bowl for him with a note that has his name on it, something that almost always makes him laugh. He's the only one you ever save food for.

This note has the Robin symbol.

He doesn’t think you even own anything with a Red Hood symbol and a very large part of him knows it’s because you do it to fuck with him.

It works every time.

He grabs the bowl, pulling the plastic wrap from it before he pops it in the microwave. He grabs a fork from the drawer and leans himself against the counter with hooded eyes, sleep tugging at his chest and bones. Patrol wasn't too bad tonight, that's not really it. He's standing in your kitchen and it's comfortable here. He's allowed to breathe with ease in your apartment and sometimes, that alone can make him crave sleep. The white noise of the microwave is only contributing to the heaviness of his eyes until it’s suddenly interrupted.

“Knew you’d be hungry.” Your voice tugs Jason from his almost sleep.

You look tired.

You sound tired.

“Thank you.” Jason’s cheeks turn a pretty shade of red as he rubs the back of his neck with his free hand. “Just gonna eat and head out.”

“You can stay.” You roll your shoulders.

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “‘M fine.” He gives you this toothy grin as some sort of proof he isn’t injured tonight though you’ve already pieced that together with him heating up his food.

“It’s late. You’re just gonna be more tired after you eat, Jay. It’s not like you don’t stay half the time anyway.” You roll your eyes at him before you disappear down the hall.

The microwave dings and it sends Jason quickly reaching for the handle to get it to stop. The noise is so jarring in your quiet apartment it sounds like his ears might bleed. The bowl is hot on his fingertips as he grabs it, quickly stirring before he puts it back in for a bit more time.

“I got you something.” You state as you reemerge from the hallway.

Jason’s brow quirks up. “What?” He let out a half-scoff half-chuckle.

The microwave barely gets a ding off before Jason grabs it and removes his bowl. He places it on the counter before you approach him. Jason faces you, eyeing you carefully before he sticks his fork into the pile of pasta.

“Here’s a spare key.” You stick out your hand and open your palm, revealing a painted red key. It matches his helmet. “So you don’t have to keep coming through the window.”

Jason thinks he might have a panic attack.

He’s comfortable around you. You’re his best friend. You’ve been friends for years, long before Red Hood. You know everything there is to know about him. It’s why he’s so comfortable walking into your apartment and grabbing his food. It’s why he can get some sleep when he’s here. But, having a key feels serious. It feels like a large responsibility. It feels like a commitment to something he’s not sure he knows what to do with.

He's staring at your palm like the key might try to bite and you have to hold your breath. There's always a chance he says no and it really shouldn't be a big deal because he's your best friend but you hold your breath anyway. You tell yourself it's just a key because Jason Todd deserves to feel welcomed somewhere at all times and that somewhere is here.

“Jay, you’re here all the time.” You tell him before you grab his hand and put the key in it. “Just use the damn key. And whenever you want.” You shrug. “I know sometimes you just don’t want to be alone so you can just come over whenever. I don’t know. You’re just always welcome.” You glance to the key in his hand and then up to him, hoping he takes it.

“I can’t do that.” Jason shakes his head, still holding out the palm of his hand.

“And why not?” You challenge.

Jaosn’s different than he was when you were kids. He’s guarded, cautious, you think he’s scared. When he was a kid, he was a little fearless and a little reckless. It wasn’t anything too crazy but a little reckless. He was open and welcoming. He was still cautious but it was more that caution just came from needing to survive from one day to the next. Jason’s caution today makes him look over his shoulder, look at every single person near him to see if they have a weapon. It makes him hide a gun under your couch and in one of your cabinets. He has a stash of food in his apartment he thinks you don’t know about. He’s different now than he was. So, you offer patience while still testing him. He doesn’t need to be different with you.

“Not trying to impose.” Jason tries to play off his own fears. “The window’s fine.” He tries to deflect. “It’s not even a bother anyway and—“

You let out a sigh cutting him off. “You’re not imposing if I’m inviting you which I am. The window’s fine until someone spots you and wants to know what the fuck is going on. The door is right here.” You point over your shoulder to the door. “Just take the key and use it.” You offer him a soft smile. "I want you here." You clarify.

Maybe it’s not the key itself that makes Jason want to run through a window. It’s the implication of what a key could lead to. And what if you ask for it back?

What if you change your mind?

“I painted it to match your helmet.” Your eyes soften, a hint of innocence behind them.

Jason's eyes go to the table, spotting his helmet and his chest feels like it’s on fire. Most of the stationary you own has to do with the bats. You have random collectibles of theirs, too which may have actually been gifted to you but you have them regardless. But the key to your apartment is Red Hood red.

You think you see a smile forming.

“Fine.” He caves, curling his fingers around the key before stuffing it deep into his pocket. “‘M gonna thank you for it then.”

“Okay, Jay.” You shine, relieved he took it.

“Can I eat now?” He points to his bowl of food that's no longer steaming.

“Yes, yes you can.” You chime.

Jason picks up his bowl, leaning his lower back against your counter before he twirls the pasta around the fork. You sit in front of him on your table just watching him. He’s your best friend but it’s hard not to notice how the armor compliments his muscle. It’s hard not to notice how pretty he is even in the low light of your apartment. You think he’s always been pretty but since reconnecting, you can’t help but think he’s stunning and tall and big. Your mind wanders to his hands, the way he holds the fork with large but delicate fingers as if he could break the metal with ease. You think how it would feel to hold his hand in yours, knowing Jason’s always radiated heat. You think how his palms are probably calloused and how they’d feel against your skin and—

Nope.

You shake your head of your own thoughts. He’s your friend and you’re just extra tired and touch-starved lately.

“How was patrol?” You ask with ease, kicking your feet in front of you, just missing his legs.

He shrugs. “Not too bad.” He answers. “Stopped a few robberies.” He states as he twirls his fork around his pasta.

“You look tired.”

He hums softly before taking his first bite, not even realizing how hungry he was until now.

“You look tired.” Jason quips back with the nod of his head towards you.

“That’s because it’s four in the morning.” You laugh softly. “Most people are tired at this time.” You widen your eyes at him to tease him.

"You can go back to bed, don't have to watch me eat." Jason widens his eyes back at you in response.

"No, that's okay." You smile back at him, not wanting to go back to bed when you could be out here with him.

“You know,” Jason starts as he points his fork at you. “Gotta get you different stationary. Tired of your Nightwing, Red Robin, and Robin bullshit.” He changes subject, a little relieved you want to stay up a little bit with him. He feels guilty you're up with him but he does really enjoy your company.

“Aww,” You give him a pout. “But don’t you just love Dick and Damian and Tim?”

Jason blinks at you a few times as he keeps a straight face before taking another bite.

You let out a laugh and Jason thinks your laugh could cure him of all of his sadness.

“They’re your brothers.” You giggle.

“Exactly.” Jason answers.

“I could have painted your key Nightwing blue or the Robin colors.” You tease him with a cheeky grin.

“Can’t pick Spoiler or Orphan?” Jason says it more sarcastically than anything else.

“No, you like Steph and Cass.” You laugh.

“Swear, if I show up to Batman shit, I’m out.” Jason laughs back.

You make a mental note to pick up a Batman mug tomorrow just to fuck with him.

“Of course not.” You scoff but Jason knows he's given you the bad idea.

Jason laughs softly before taking another bite. “Go to bed.”

You let out a sigh before you hop down, noticing Jason is almost done eating anyway. "Pillow and blanket are already on the couch for you."

Jason glances to the couch, seeing a pale blue blanket peaking out from the arm of the couch.

"Thank you." Jason offers you a sincere but small smile. "Goodnight."

“Goodnight, Jay.” You smile softly before heading back to your room.

The next morning, you’re awakened by the smell of something cooking in your kitchen. For a few seconds, you think you’re either dreaming or hallucinating. But the longer you lay in bed, the more you become positive there’s definitely food being made.

It smells a little sweet and warm. It actually smells warm. And yet, it’s almost completely silent in your apartment. You figure it’s Jason because Jason can cook but you have no clue how he manages to be so quiet about everything he does. Sure, it’s his training and his life depends on it, but every time you try to cook anything, you drop at least one pan onto the floor and utensils usually go flying somewhere. You feel bad for you downstairs neighbors.

You grab your phone from the charger, pocketing it before you head out to the kitchen, still wiping sleep from your eyes. The smell grows stronger and you finally figure out it’s your favorite breakfast food. A smile pokes at your lips because, in all your years of friendship, you and Jason have only done breakfast a handful of times but he remembers anyway.

He’s attentive. That’s also something that comes with his training because his life depends on it. But, you knew him before Rd Hood. Before Robin and Batman. Jason Todd has always been attentive and you don’t think it’s something about living on the streets. It’s something that’s embedded into his DNA, pay attention to small things. Maybe that’s because of his mom, his overall childhood of having to take care of her but maybe it’s also just him.

“Morning.” You greet as you stretch your arms over your head, bending your back back a bit.

“G’morning.” Jason greets as he turns around from the stove.

He sounds well-rested.

He looks well-rested for once.

“You’re making breakfast?” You question as you walk over to your coffee maker, an empty cup already ready sitting there for you.

“Told ya I’d pay you back.” Jason states as he continues cooking.

“You really know the way to my heart.” You joke as you get your coffee going. “Always food.”

You watch Jason continue to cook and you think you could probably be mesmerized by everything he does. He's not really doing anything special but it seems that way because it's him. He could trip over a rock and fall into a lake and you'd still be mesmerized.

"Hello?" Jason calls, waving a hand in front of your face. Your eyes snap up to his as you feel your cheeks starting to burn. "I asked how you slept." Jason chuckles as he starts to plate the food for the both of you. "You alright?"

You shake your head, almost fumbling for words. "Yeah, sorry. Zoned out." You clear your throat before you start to pour your cup of coffee. "Good, to answer your question." You let out a breath with the roll of your shoulders. "You?" You ask with a soft smile before you make your way to your spot at the table.

Jason always tends to sleep better here. Your couch isn’t exactly the most comfortable or the biggest but he still feels like he gets real sleep whenever he’s here. He could sleep a few hours and still be more rested than had he just slept at his place.

Jason doesn’t mind being alone, it’s always a bit safer if not for him then for the people around him but being alone gets pretty lonely. He doesn’t have to feel alone here. You’re here and he thinks he’d never be lonely again if you were always around.

“Good.” Jason answers, not willing to elaborate on his thoughts. “Your breakfast is served, princess.” Jason smirks at you with his quip as he sets the plate down in front of you.

“Ass.” You retort with the roll of your eyes just as Jason goes to take the plate back. Your hand grips his wrist. Your hand is no match for him, it’s tiny compared to him and his strength alone is enough but he stops anyway. “No, no, I’ll take this thank you.” You push his hand away and guard your food.

He laughs with the shake of his head and you hope the walls are absorbing the sound. Jason stays at your apartment a few days a week but he’s never here when you wake up. The blanket is always folded on the arm of the couch with the pillow placed perfectly on top. There’s always some sort of note thanking you for letting him crash. Sometimes, if you sleep in because work sucked or you're sick, he picks up some of your favorite snacks and takeout, leaving it in the fridge for you for when you wake up. But, he’s never here.

You find yourself thinking you could get used to this though. His laugh in the early morning and him looking so comfortable.

His hair is all tousled from sleeping. He looks a little disheveled. You see him disheveled all the time because he always has helmet hair and he’s always getting himself into trouble. It kind of comes tih with territory, you think. But, today, it’s just because he slept here. He looks disheveled because his hair is messy and he’s comfortable. He looks comfortable and warm and you’d go as far as to say he looks beautiful.

You hope he chooses to stay more.

“Okay, I didn't know you could cook this good.” You states after taking a few bites, genuinely surprised. Is there anything Jason Todd is bad at?

A rosey shade of pink dusts over his cheeks as he shrugs. “What? Thought I only eat pasta and whatever else you managed to save me?” He quips, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through his ribcage.

“Well…yes.” You let out a laugh while Jason offers you his fake glare.

“Like to cook sometimes, got good at it.” Jason shrugs a shoulder with his minimal explanation.

“Well, now you have to cook more.” You shrug easily as you offer him a grin.

“I have to?” Jason raises a brow at you, taunting you to rethink your words.

You don’t.

“Yes. I said so.” You laugh back at him.

“Not sure I want to now.” Jason shrugs his shoulders dramatically.

“Awww, pretty please, Jay.” You give him a pout and not even a single ounce of him actually believes he’d ever be able to say no to you about anything.

“What’d ya want for dinner?” Jason asks before he goes back to his food.

“Wait, really?” You beam and Jason glances back to you.

There’s always this sort of pull in his chest when things feel good, like he’s undeserving and he needs to wait for the other foot to drop. It feels like this now. He feels comfortable here. He’s happy here with you. You’re his favorite person and you're always the person he wants to talk to you about a new book he read or something insane one of the bats did. You’re the first person, the only person, he goes to when he’s been hurt on patrol. Jason swears you’re his best friend despite the beating and rumbling through his ribcage.

“Unless you’re bored of--”

“I’m never bored of you.” You cut him off immediately. “Okay, I’ll think of something and I can help.” You beam back at him with excitement before going back to your food.

A smile tugs at the corner of Jason’s lips and despite the worrying and fear of this whole thing blowing up in his face, he finds himself thinking he could get used to mornings with you, just like this.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

Small Cuts

Jason Todd x Reader

wc: 1.7 K summary: Red Hood saves you from the chaos, being scared shitless warnings: standard Gotham violence, description of minor injuries, (panic attack), slight angst/comfort, established relationship a/n: for my loyal Red Hood fans (you know who you are), here's a special drabble I came up with while looking through my notes. have fun (divider)

Jason quickly dodges another punch, putting a bullet between the muggers eyes. Yes, Bruce said no guns and killing, but he isn‘t Bruce. He doesn‘t care, these shits need to go down, they did that themselves by doing wrongs. It seems that Dick managed to escort as many civilians as possible from the mall, getting back to his brother to fight by his side. He knows Bane is a powerful guy, but his small army seems to be quite strong too. It‘s annoying him, he probably has a broken rib by now, and the cuts along his body sting, it getting more difficult to fight against the remaining soldiers.

A scarily familiar, shrill scream sounds amidst the chaos, his breath hitching under his mask. He really hopes it‘s not the person he thinks it is. With a quick punch to the other‘s head, he can search for who screamed, already cursing Dick for not clearing the floor properly. It seems like he is on autopilot, remembering you telling him about going on a quick shop to the mall, see if there is anything new. That same mall he is fighting criminals in right now.

He finally spots you, trapped between the wall and a huge shelf that crashed against it, you being in between it. There is just enough space for you to fit in, but not enough to crawl out of it on your own. Besides, you‘ve never looked so terrified before, not even able to breath properly in your panicked state.

Without sharing another glance, he runs up to you and pushes the shelf away from the wall, grunting at how heavy it is. Now that the huge weight is off, you intake a deep breath, close to hyperventilating again. You can‘t even register who is in front of you or that you are free again.

Jason really wants to just let the medics from outside take care of you, but he can‘t. He carefully scoops you up, holding your head close against him, as he hurries away from the fighting scene, patting your back softly with his other hand. Meanwhile, you can barely register that you aren‘t crushed between the wall anymore, but in someone‘s arms, taking you away.

»S- Lady, you‘re alright! I‘m bringing you to safety, you‘re gonna be okay.«

The slightly distorted voice attempts to calm you down, doing little to actually make you stop from panicking. Jason cursed himself inwardly as he almost slipped, having to keep his secret identity from you while still outside, being close to giving up and patching you up right here; call you his favourite nicknames and petnames. It‘s not like he doesn‘t trust you, no, he would do anything for you because you‘d do anything for him. He still sometimes cries himself to sleep, thinking he doesn‘t deserve you. Now, he is close to crying again, but not because of that. His world is injured, because he wasn‘t careful enough. He should‘ve been the one escorting civilians, maybe he would have spotted you sooner.

With quick strides, Jason finally sets you down onto his couch. These are the rare moments he is glad he lives close to the mall, being still dead-concerned about you.

Your knee is badly scraped, a couple of dark bruises littering on your exposed skin, small cuts across your face.Oh, your pretty face. It‘s all his fault.

As if on instinct, he gets his med kit and kneels down in front of the couch, craddling your face in his hands. Now safe in his apartment, he doesn‘t care about his secret identity being revealed to you, he just wants to make this better.

»Darling, I‘m here, don‘t you worry, okay? It‘s me, Jason. Jay-jay.«

Before you can respond, he takes off his helmet and discards it to the floor, cleaning your small scrapes around his face carefully. His fingers barely touch your skin, the wet rug gently cleaning the little blood off of your forehead and cheeks, his own face looking way worse than yours.

Gasping, you finally take in his face and feel a rush of worry again. Leaning up, you cup his cheek, seeing his black eye and cut across his chin. He looks absolutely done, yet he is still on his knees, cleaning at your own wounds.

He is immediately alerted, searching your face for any sign of pain or discomfort. He doesn‘t seem to realise he is injured as well.

»W-what is it? Did I hurt you?« What is that question? Of course he hurt you, he should‘ve been there way sooner.

Taking a deep breath, you try to use your voice; being still shaken up and weak.

»Your fucking eye...« Jason frowns even more at your weak voice, huffing out and leaning you back down on your back. He bites down on his inner cheek harshly, trying to focus and work on your injuries as best as possible. Your eyes stay on his face, silently observing him as you finally start to breath more normally.

Your light scrapes sting as he cleans them up, putting small bandages over them.

»Don‘t they need you?« You croak out quietly again, whincing lightly as he cleans your scraped knee, the wet cloth becoming bloody.

»They can handle it. I need you to be safe first.« Jason mutters back, feeling guilty and bad for causing you more pain while patching you up. It hurts more but you bear through, leaning up on your elbows to see how bad your knee is. You grimace lightly, hissing at the familiar sting while he cleans your wound.

Jason doesn‘t glance to your face anymore, completely focussed on taking care of you. He carefully wraps a bandage around your knee, lifting it up a little on the couch. His fingertips barely graze your skin, his touch even more gentle than usual. Your body is still trembling from the adrenaline, slumping back on the couch with a heavy sigh. It all comes to your senses.

Jason is Red Hood. He just saved you from that terror attack in the mall. Seems to be in a worse shape than you and still patches you up as gentle as possible. He left his team behind just to take you to safety.

»Take off your shirt, need to see the bruises.«

His voice snaps you out of your slow procession of events, humming lightly in thought before carefully pulling off your shirt. It hurts to move your arms up, feeling a painful stretch around your right side. He helps you take it off, eyes quickly scanning over your big bruise around your ribs. It looks even worse now, a darker bruise evident against your right side. He wants to punch himself, he never meant to hurt you.

It‘s not even his fault. He was just fighting, not having been in charge for escorting civilians. Maybe he shouldn‘t feel guilty, he knows better than blaming himself for something that he didn‘t do. But it‘s just unfair, he could‘ve made it less worse if he only put an eye out and saw you and—

»Jason! Your nose is bleeding.«

You finally managed to pull him out of his thoughts, not knowing what to do. Jason quickly stands up again and gets the bathroom, leaning over the sink to get his nose clean and make it stop bleeding. Rushing over, you limp the way to Jason and get to his side, trying to see in what shape he is right now.

»I‘m fine, why are you standing? Get down- sit down, darling, you don‘t need to do anything.«

»I am not sitting down, you need to sit down, you‘re literally bleeding.« You argue back, trying to lead him to the bedroom.

»I‘m not sitting down, I need to get you safe— «

»I am safe.« You reassure him, seeing his hands tremble, eyes seem unfocused. Nothing really seems to help him calm down, grabbing his shoulders and forcing eye-contact.

After some more attempts of coaxing him into the bedroom, you can finally take care of him. He stands in front of the bed as you sit in front of him, patching up the few gashes along his torso.

Jason watches you the whole time, running his hand through some strands of hair occasionally. Yes, it does hurt as you bandage him up, but all he can focus on is you at the moment. Whole and safe, taking care of him finally.

He doesn‘t deserve you.

But he won‘t ever trade you for anyone else.

You don‘t need to talk once you get him all patched up and clean, both of you acting automatically once everything falls back to normal.

Jason crawls back in bed with you like this morning, carefully wrapping his arms around you, no matter how much it hurts his own body. Both tangled up in each other, comforting the other with sweet and grounding words. You are both safe now.

The small conversation paused, letting a comfortable silence fall over the room. After a few moments you speak up again, atmosphere getting lighter.

»I was dating the Red Hood all the time? For two years?«

He groans lightly, looking down at you in his arms.

»I‘m sorry, I… couldn‘t really tell you. But I wanted to, I really did.«

Jason apologises, his guilty expression pulling at your heart again.

»Wait, no, I‘m not mad. It‘s just… a nice surprise? I don‘t know, but I will buy endless Red Hood merch from now on. If you like it or not.«

You tell him with a small smile, making him pause before rolling his eyes. Of course. There‘s no way you would react badly. Especially after saving you.

a/n: WOW! really hoped you enjoyed it, i'm excited to hear your thoughts about it!!

← MASTERLIST

[er-osion]

Stumble In(to my life)

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: You tend to Red Hood after he’s mildly injured on patrol, he then sticks around a little.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: none, fluff

author’s note: you can find part 2 here

∾∾∘⋅∗⋄⋆⋄∗⋅∘∾∾

You looked up from your books to the soft thump outside your window. A normal person wouldn’t have heard the noise at all, but your ears had become accustomed to listening for it. It was late, far later than you should be up, but tonight was a night filled with studying and anxiety, so sleep evaded you. You put a bookmark in your textbook and closed it, being careful of your notes, and got up from your couch. You just reached the window as a large armored figure clamored through. Backing up, you gave the beast of a man space to gracefully tumble through your window and into your apartment. The sound of sirens off in the distance became muffled once again when the man closed the window tightly behind him.

Red Hood never said much. A man of few words you supposed, at least when he was injured —which was the only time you saw him. You couldn’t recall when this little arrangement between the two of you began, maybe around a year ago. The Red Hood crashed and stumbled into your life one fateful night, and had been doing so ever since. But only when he needed a patch job, and he never took off his helmet. Even when you could tell he had a head injury that needed tending, he wouldn’t remove the red helmet. You knew he trusted you, clearly a lot more than he trusted others, but a part of you was still a little hurt. You'd known him for so long and still yet to see his real face or hear his real voice unmodulated. Oddly enough, you’d call Hood a friend. Even if you didn’t know his real name along with many other things about him, and even if he knew very little about you other than the basics, you’d consider him a good friend. And deep down you’re sure he thinks the same.

Hood slumps down on the couch, but you notice he’s careful to avoid being anywhere near your textbooks and notes. You silently appreciate the move, since last time he got blood on your papers and you had to come up with a believable story for your professor explaining why there were blood splatters on your homework.

“Rough night?” You ask jokingly as you get out the first aid kit. Hood gives a ‘Hmpf’ in response and rests his head against the back of the couch. You move your school stuff off the coffee table and set out the supplies from the first aid kit. You let your eyes roam his figure to try and find the injuries you’d be taking care of tonight. You slyly take in Hood’s toned muscles as you look for wounds, taking the action as a less obvious chance to check him out. However secretive he may be, you can’t deny the man looks good. Actually, “looks good” is an understatement, his abs could cut diamonds.

“How many bruises are you gonna have in the morning?” You ask as you help him take off his leather jacket which is crusted with dried blood here and there.

“Too many.” He’s short with his words but by now you can hear the underlying exhaustion in them. His voice sounds robotic from the mask, but it still brings you a wave of comfort to hear.

“Anything I can’t see?” This phrase has become your way of asking where his most concerning injuries are, and whether or not he’s comfortable with you dealing with them.

“No, tonight’s just the obvious stuff.”

“Not any less painful I presume.”

“And as usual, you’re right, angel.” Your lips quirk up in the ghost of a smile at the nickname. You’ve started cleaning the gashes on his arms and wrapping them with gauze and bandages. Hood relaxes a bit more into the couch, tensing only when you start cleaning wounds with the cold water and saline solution.

As you’re working your mind drifts into thinking about the nature of your relationship with this vigilante. Part of you is proud, honored even, that the elusive Red Hood trusts you enough to seek you out for medical care. But another part of you, the part you don’t really want to acknowledge, is angry he only ever visits when he needs fixing. He doesn’t tell you anything about himself, not even ice-breaker facts, and he doesn’t really ask about you. He doesn’t drop by anytime he’s not injured and he never tells you when he’s coming, he just shows up at your window injured without warning. Your heart stings when you think that you might be dead last on Red Hood’s priority list, especially considering he’s first on yours. Does he really only think of you as a patch job? Someone who will treat him without asking any questions? Does he even have any interest in your life at all? Does he ever think about you when he’s not around, like you think of him? By now, you’ve lost yourself in the spiral of your thoughts and are blankly working out of muscle memory. You don’t even notice, but Red Hood does.

Jason watches you work through the eyes of his helmet. He can see the distance in your eyes and can tell you’re thinking hard about something else. But even as your mind wanders, your hands do not. You work efficiently and effectively on cleaning and wrapping his wounds. You take care to check for broken bones and remove any debris you find in his skin. He appreciates you. He’s certain he appreciates you more than you’ll ever know. He didn’t realize how lucky he was when he stumbled through your window all those nights ago. He didn’t realize that night that he’d gain a safe haven. He’s never felt more secure than when he’s with you in your apartment. Jason’s never felt more comfortable than when in your presence. He thinks it’s a little odd. You don’t know what his face looks like, hell, you don’t even know his real name, but his trust in you is an ever flowing river. Jason trusts you more than he trusts himself sometimes. Jason blinks out of a trance he didn’t realize he was in and focuses back on you. The lamps in your apartment provide the only measly light for you to work with, but right now they aren’t crummy. No, the lamps have painted your figure in a warm glow that has Jason’s heart stuttering in an unusual way. The homey furniture melts into the dim background and you're the only thing in focus in Jason’s vision. It’s moments like these when Jason is hit with a flurry of emotions he doesn’t understand. You finish wrapping his last bandage and look up at him with the most gentle but curious eyes he’s ever seen and Red Hood suddenly feels like he’s about to choke. His chest swirls with feelings and he can’t even begin to grasp what they are or what they mean. He wants to say “thank you, thank you for always looking after me even when I don’t deserve it,” but the words get caught in his throat. There’s a tranquil silence that follows where you just look at each other, of course, you can’t tell exactly what Red Hood is looking at but you can feel his gaze on you. When a minute passes you get up slowly and start to put the first aid kit away. Jason watches you from behind the safety of his helmet and moves to help you package everything back up.

Hood’s gloved hand picks up a roll of gauze and brings it over to the kit, but you quickly —albeit gently— put your hand over his to stop him and take the gauze yourself. “You don’t have to do that. You’re injured, rest.” You say with quiet authority and go back to cleaning up the table. Hood doesn’t say anything but leans back into the couch and doesn’t continue to help, though deep down he wants to. He feels he owes you, he knows he owes you. He wants to do something, anything to pay back the kindness you’ve shown him but he can never think of the right thing to do.

“You’re welcome to sit here for a bit, regain some energy before you head to wherever it is you hide during the day. I’ve just got some notes to finish for class.” You provide as you sit down in the chair next to your sofa, repositioning all your textbooks and papers. Hood just nods in reply. “Oh, and you can turn on the tv if you’d like, I don’t mind.” There’s a pause before you see the vigilante move to grab the remote and turn on your tv. You smile a bit at your papers, finding a small happiness in the fact he’s able to settle into your home so well. You secretly wish he’d come and watch tv with you just for fun, not because he needs to recover from a stab wound.

Every once in a while, Jason’s eyes drift from the tv screen to where you’re seated taking notes for your class. Jason does his best to memorize this moment and neatly pack it away in a safe little box in his brain. He wants to remember this quiet moment of togetherness forever. He wants to say something, he wants your beautiful eyes back on him but he also doesn’t want to disrupt the pleasant quiet that swirls around your living room.

Red Hood clears his throat and shimmies into a straighter posture. “Thanks by the way.” You look up at the vigilante and tilt your head in confusion at his remark.

“For what?” You let out a small chuckle, the confusion is evident in your voice. Jason’s lips quirk up in a small smile under his helmet at your confusion at his thanks.

“For all this to start,” Hood motions to himself “and also just for letting me in here. For letting me into your home without fair warning. Your patience with my bullshit seems to know no bounds, you deserve an award merely for that. So… thanks.” Thank you for letting me into your life and making me feel cared for, Jason wants to add on, but that seems a little too open about his feelings for the moment. He hopes you’re able to pick up on the subtext of his words, he hopes you can put together the puzzle pieces of his words that form the colorful picture of his appreciation for you.

You smile lightly, “Of course, Hood. Believe it or not, I actually enjoy having your giant smartass around.” You took a deep breath and let loose a shot in the dark. “I just wish you’d stumble in here when you weren’t injured sometimes, just to hang around.” You awkwardly divert your eyes to the floor and take a major interest in the small stains in the wood. Hood is quiet and unmoving and you can’t tell if that’s good or bad, you can’t tell if you crossed an unspoken line. Jason’s mind is reeling, trying to catch up with the implications of your words. Do you mean you want him around more? Do you mean you want a deeper friendship with him? Do you mean you truly enjoy his presence so much you want more of it in your life? You risk a look back up at Red Hood and when Jason sees the genuine look in your eyes he hopes the modulator in his helmet doesn’t give away the deep breath he had to intake to try and calm his heart.

“Well, maybe I’ll have to drop by more often then, angel.” Hood tries to play off the deepness of the moment with suave teasing, he has to retain at least a little dignity in front of you.

You smirk at his clearly playful comeback, “Just make sure you show up with takeout or some groceries. I can’t be providing everything for you all of the time.” Hood huffs out a laugh.

“I think I can manage that.”

“Good.” You smile warmly at him and Jason mirrors you beneath his helmet. There’s a soft silence that follows where the two of you just look at each other. Then you go back to finishing your notes with the smile still plastered on your face. Jason is already planning out his schedule so he can drop in just for fun as soon as possible without seeming desperate to hang out.

“My cuts are pretty sore by the way and I’m quite fatigued so I might have to stay for a bit longer.”

“Hm, well if that’s what you need to do then I can’t deny you. I’m not going to kick Gotham's hero out of my apartment while he’s down.” You know he’s not really that sore or fatigued. You can tell by his body language or his tone of voice when he is. You know he’s just saying that to ask if it’s okay if he stays a bit longer than usual. Of course, you’d never say no. You’d offer him to stay the night but you don’t want him to get uncomfortable, though deep down, you’re desperate for his prolonged presence.

“Tch, that’s a relief. However, I’m afraid I might also need some moral support, as you can see, your poor hero of Gotham has had a rough night.”

You smirk and raise an eyebrow but don’t deny him. You get up from your seat and move to sit next to him on the couch. Your finished notes are left forgotten on your previous chair and you dial into the show Hood was watching on the tv. “Well then, I guess it’s a good thing my hero of Gotham and I have a similar taste in tv —it makes giving moral support easier.” You feel Hood’s quiet chuckle through the vibrations of the couch, a feeling you want again and again. Jason tries not to think too hard on your use of the word ‘my’ or how it’s echoing in his head like a tantalizing mantra.

“A good thing indeed.”

“I didn’t realize vigilantes had time to pick favorite tv shows.”

“How else do you think we pass the time waiting for a store to be robbed during patrol?”

“I figured you just brooded the entire time, seeing as you costumed weirdos can never get over anything in your entire lives.”

“How rude, us weirdos do get over things, like buildings or cars when chasing down our enemies.”

“Hardy har har, I bet you think you’re clever for that one.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think, I know I’m clever for that one.”

“So arrogant.”

“Not arrogant, confident.”

“If that’s what you want to call it, sure.” The lighthearted banter between the two of you fills the room with the warmth of familiarity. Neither of you seemed to notice how close you’d gotten to each other on instinct. Your shoulders are just brushing his and you can feel his body heat seeping into your skin. You’re fighting the urge to press closer and unbeknownst to you, Jason is doing the same. Your body and heart is begging you to rest your head against Hood’s leather-clad shoulder but you push the thoughts down in fear of making things awkward or scaring him off. Jason’s mind is running rampant with internal pleas for you to rest against him, he wants nothing more right now than to feel the comfortable weight of you against his side. But Jason doesn’t act or speak any of these thoughts into reality, worried he’ll cross a line or make you uncomfortable. So the two of you sit there on your couch for who knows how long. Mingling on the side of cuddling but not quite reaching the threshold. Both of you sit contented with the closeness and security of spending what had been a rough evening together, but silently desperate for more. But more is for a different evening, another night when Red Hood stumbles through your window.

[allllium]

Hi! I have a Jason Todd x reader request if you’re still looking for those! A little angst, a little hurt/ comfort, a little protective Jason Todd.

Soulmate AU where soulmates can feel each others feelings. Jason is on patrol and reader is at their shared apartment when someone breaks in. Jason is not nearby so he feels a lot of feelings while he frantically tries to get home. Reader may get injured but they aren’t helpless, they fight back.

Thank you!!!

Break In

~ I hope this is what you were expecting, this was so cute to me <3

~ WC: 885 [Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort]

- Things go wrong while he's on patrol

Jason is a man that loves with his whole heart. He falls hard but it takes a long time. Once you win him over, he's yours. Growing up the way he did Jason didn't think he'd ever meet his soulmate, not the way Dick and Tim did. As terrible as it is he always assumed you were dead - he never felt that overwhelming feeling of someone else's emotions that people had explained to him all his life. Not until he died.

No one knows why his soulmate bond didn't kick in until he had come back to life, but that's how it happened. Not only did he have to deal with his own problems of coming back but he finally had to get used to yours too. And he wouldn't change it for the world.

“What's got you smiling like that?” Dick asks, from his position on the roof of an opposite building.

“What? A man can't be happy?” Jason continues smiling to himself as patrol goes on. Feeling your relaxed state through bond makes him stay relaxed himself.

Jason usually tries to stay as close to your shared apartment as possible, his paranoia holding him on a strong leash. However, he was forced to step more out of his comfort zone tonight, due to Dick's excessive begging.

He's almost ready to begin heading home when he feels it, overwhelming fear rushing down his spine. He becomes breathless as he quickly starts running home. Not staying long enough to hear Dick's questioning.

So many thoughts are running through his head he can't quite decipher them from one another. What if you're hurt? It's fine you probably just fell or something. But if all you did was fall you wouldn't be so scared? What if someone got in? What if someone from his nightlife is targeting you? What if he doesn't make it in time?

Still, almost halfway to your apartment, he feels as if he can't breathe. He feels as if his heart's in his stomach and all of time has stopped. Suddenly he stops. All feelings of fear and dread have dropped out of his body. Instead they've been replaced with feelings of relief and humor?

Why the fuck would you be feeling humor? As soon as he's stopped, he's moving again. Moving just as fast as moments before, he reaches the apartment in only a few minutes. After running up the stairs and slamming the door open with unbelievable force, he is hit in the face with a pile of dirt?

“Oh Jay! I'm so sorry I swear I didn't mean to throw dirt in your face.” You immediately run over to him and help get the dirt specks off his face.

“Then why did you?” He asks, sounding more confused than ever before. Only once he's done talking does he see the man laying face down on your living room carpet, surrounded with broken pieces of a potted plant. “And who is that?”

“I have no idea. He kinda broke in.” You tell him, moving to clean up the dirt and leaves covering the floor.

“Broke in? Is that why you were scared? That was a dumb question, don't answer that.” He takes off his helmet and sets it on the coffee table. Right next to the smear of blood. “What happened, sweetheart?”

“I don't even know, everything happened so fast. One moment I was falling asleep on the couch and the next I was smacking a guy with Bob.”

“Oh you smacked him with Bob.” Jason sounds strangely disappointed in the death of his potted plant you named Bob.

“I'm sorry he was the closest thing to me, I didn't think about it.” You stand up from the floor to look at the mess still sitting. From this angle Jason can see the bruise starting to form on your jaw bone.

“What happened here? Did he hit you?” He questions, grabbing your hand and pulling you close enough to inspect the bruise.

“Only once, there was a little fight. But I obviously won so it's fine.”

“It's not fine princess, you got hurt. And I could feel that you were scared.”

“I'm alright Jay.” You smile at him and place your hand on the side of his face. “I handled it.”

He can feel your pride run through him. “I'm glad, but that shouldn't have happened. We're moving.”

“No the fuck we're not. I like it here.” You cross your arms over your chest and raise your eyebrows at him.

“Baby, someone broke in.”

“Good. That means it likely won't happen again.”

“That's not how it works.”

“Oh c'mon. What are the chances that happens again?”

“Too high. We'll move somewhere in the country, away from people.” You chuckle at his suggestion.

“As great as that sounds, not yet. I'm alright Jay, I promise.”

“I'm teaching you self defense.” He pulls you into a bone-crushing hug.

“Why? I did great here.” You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him impossibly closer.

“Because I can't promise you'll always have a Bob to protect you.”

“Fine, as long as we get to spend more time together.”

“Whatever you want, sweetheart. I love you.” He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I love you too Jay.” You hum into his chest.