Hello madame terrain, I have been thinking about boxer!jason for some time now and I'm wondering if you have any thoughts about him? if not that's totally okay too ☺️ love all your writing!!!
lol hi, madame terrain is adorable 💕 also boxer jason is big brained!!! let's do it ;)
boxer!jason todd x gn!reader. reader is an apprentice to a ringside doctor (leslie thompkins). tw creepy OMC intimidates reader, jason protects/defends r, fluff, my attempt at boxing stuff.
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Leslie said she'd be back in an hour.
You're currently at the thirty minute mark, hoping for a natural disaster, an angel, anything, because...
"Doc gives me stuff for my pain all the time," Keith says for the third time. "It's real simple."
Keith Dixon is one of the gym's regular fighters. You haven't seen enough matches to judge his fighting, but you can confidently say that his people skills are in the toilet.
He'd barged into the office ten minutes ago and had refused to leave even when you said Leslie was out.
You need to make a break for it.
"You have to wait for Dr. Thompkins," you say, lifting your chin. You won't give in and risk losing this job. No way in hell. "I can't administer medications. I'm not licensed."
Keith rolls his eyes. He's a hothead, new to Gotham. Likes to fight. Likes to fight mean.
"Look, you're new. I'm just giving you a heads-up on how things work around here," he says, backing you up further. You're nearly against the wall.
Where the hell is Leslie?
"I'm sorry, Mr. Dixon, but I can't prescribe painkillers without her supervision."
"Uh-huh. Know what I think? I think you're just not cut out for the ring," Keith says, cornering you against the cabinet. "Cute thing like you shouldn't be hiding in an office. The Doc ought to know better..."
"Is there a problem?"
The new voice makes you flinch, just a little. Keith pulls back, posture easy but guarded. The second guy holds himself similarly. He's also well-built, clad in a gray tee and black sweatpants. His hands are wrapped.
"J-man," Keith says, daggers in his teeth. "Man, I thought you were benched for the week. You meet our new assistant? They're still getting used to how things run around here."
The mystery man looks at you. His eyes are a lovely teal.
"Is he botherin' you?" he asks.
"I—" You swallow. "I was just explaining to Keith that I can't administer medicine without Dr. Thompkins."
Keith huffs. "Jason, tell 'em how this works."
Jason faces Keith. They nearly match each other in height and bulk. You hope to God they don't decide to brawl here and now.
"I think you're the one who needs a reminder, Dixon," Jason says coolly. "Seems pretty straightforward to me. You need to wait for the Doc. So was there something else you needed?"
Keith's mouth presses into a line. You can tell he's got about a hundred ugly thoughts on his tongue right now.
"Nope," he grits out.
"Mm. Then step off."
Keith obeys. You slip out of the corner.
"I'll come back," he says.
"When the Doc's here," Jason adds. It doesn't sound like a suggestion. "If y'need a reminder of her schedule, I don't mind giving you one."
Keith looks at you. You hold his gaze, heart pounding.
"Of course," he says, all false charm, and pushes past Jason. "See ya in the ring, J.T."
You can't relax even after Keith leaves. Jason remains in the doorway. You close your eyes at the thought of dealing with another fighter. It's not bad with Leslie here, but this is your first time alone. It's already a disaster.
Obviously, none of the fighters respect you like they respect Leslie, even after three weeks of you working here. You don't even know all of the fighters.
"Hey." Jason doesn't move from his spot as he asks. "Y'okay?"
"Yes," you say, keeping your back straight. "I'm fine. Do you need medical attention?"
"I just came to get some more wraps. But I can get 'em at home."
His voice is softer now that Keith's gone.
"No need," you say. "That's what I'm here for."
You get a roll of tape from the drawer. It takes you three tries to pull the edge out. You drop it twice.
You feel Jason's eyes on you. You keep pulling the tape, but it won't comply.
"I got it," he says. "I can wrap myself. Toss it here."
You pause, tape half unfurled. "Dr. Thompkins told me to do all wraps myself."
"Leslie's cool. I won't tell her, anyway."
You shake your head. "Why don't you want me to wrap your hands?"
Jason glances to the side. He leans against the doorframe, purposely casual.
"'Cause Keith's a big guy. And I'm a big guy. And your hands are still shaking."
You tighten your grip on the tape.
Jason gestures to the office. "This is your space. I won't come in if you don't want me to. That's not how this works."
"It's... it's the job," you say, startled. "I don't—I've heard that Keith's rough with everybody."
"Yeah, well, he's an asshole. You shouldn't have to be rough back. Good fighters turn it off outside of the ring. I don't want to make you feel small. Alright?"
Tension bleeds out of your spine. You no longer feel like prey.
"It's easier if I wrap them for you," you say, and turn your back on him to fetch the antiseptic.
The tiles behind you creak as Jason hesitates for a moment. Then he walks in and sits in a chair, so you're higher than him.
He looks up at you. He really does have beautiful eyes. His eyelashes are dark and delicate. There's a faded bruise on his cheek.
He's boyishly handsome, with a mouth that looks like it smiles a lot.
"Do you also fight here?"
He nods. "Since I was eighteen. Been here a while."
You take one of his hands in both of yours. Jason's already thrown out the old tape. His knuckles are cut up. They're covered in scars. His fingernails are short and neat.
His hands are big, far bigger than yours. Veins feed into each other from the backs of his hands up his forearms.
You take out the antiseptic spray.
"Might be cold," you warn.
"'S okay."
You spray his skin. Jason doesn't even flinch.
"Your hands are really soft," he says.
"Oh, thank you. I use Isley's Salve. Works great."
Why did you share that?
Jason's mouth quirks. "Yeah? Might have to try that. My hands have seen better days."
"I have some in my bag." You let go of the half-done wrap and dig through your backpack. You pull out the small tube of salve and squeeze some onto his hands.
Jason is quiet and still as you rub in the lotion. He's pliant as you finish the wraps, letting you turn his hands over. You pull the wraps tight.
"All done," you say, face suddenly warm like you've been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.
He flexes his hands a few times. "Thanks. You're good. I can see why Leslie chose you as her apprentice."
You shrug. "Anybody can wrap hands."
"Dunno. I've seen some pretty shit wraps in my time."
"Oh. Well, um, I'm here most of the time, so feel free to come by and get your wraps changed."
He hums. "Sure. Don't worry 'bout Keith. I'll take care of it."
Your eyes widen. "I don't want more trouble..."
"You won't get trouble, I promise. We don't tolerate that here. 'Sides, he's overstayed his welcome."
You nod. "Okay. Thank you, Jason."
"No need for thank you's. Y'alright getting home?"
"Yes, I'm okay. Leslie's dropping me."
Jason nods, then picks himself up. He pauses like he wants to say something else, but he strides out of the room like he's in a rush instead.
"Well, um. G'night," he says over his shoulder. "Take care."
It's about fifteen more minutes until Leslie returns.
"Everything alright?" she asks in a tone that tells you she already knows the answer. "I ran into Jason on my way in. He said Keith Dixon gave you some trouble. I'm sorry I took so long. Are you alright?"
"You ran into—I thought Jason went home for the night."
Leslie looks like you've just told her the sky is red. "He wanted to make sure you were okay. So he waited till I came back. Are you okay? Did Keith hurt you?"
You shake your head. "No, I'm alright. Just shaken up. He's a bully. Wanted painkillers."
Leslie frowns. "He won't bother you again. I'll make sure you're not alone."
"It's okay. I mean, Jason was there."
She nods. "Mm. He's a good boy. I know his father."
"Yeah, he, uh, was nice. I wrapped his hands."
Leslie raises an eyebrow. Your shoulders rise.
"What?" you ask. "You said to practice my wraps."
She shrugs. "Nothing, nothing. I did tell you that. I'm glad you got some practice in."
You follow her to her car. Soon, Leslie pulls out of the lot.
"Leslie, do you mind if we stop at CVS?"
"Sure. What for?"
You feel for the little tube in your pocket.
"Need more Isley's Salve... I'm, uh, running low."
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