The Ones Without Packs

He stepped closer, still in his Red Hood jacket, the leather creaking as he moved. The new haircut made him look taller somehow, broader, the sharp lines of his face even more striking. You couldn’t stop staring at the way the longer pieces in the back brushed his neck, the way the sides were faded just enough to show the strong line of his jaw.

You reached out before you could think, fingers threading through the longer hair at the back of his head. It was soft, freshly washed, still a little damp. Jason’s breath hitched as you tugged gently, testing the length.

“God,” you whispered. “You look so good. Like… stupidly good.”

His smirk widened, but there was a flush creeping up his neck. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” You stepped closer, pressing your body against his, one hand still in his hair. The other slid under his jacket, palm flat against his chest. “I can’t stop looking at you. The mullet… it’s hot. Really hot.”

Jason groaned softly, hands settling on your waist, pulling you tighter against him. “You’re gonna make me blush, baby. It’s just hair.”

“It’s not just hair,” you murmured, tugging again, harder this time. His head tilted back slightly, exposing the line of his throat. You leaned in, pressing a slow kiss to the skin just below his jaw. “It makes you look… dangerous. Like you could throw me over your shoulder and carry me off somewhere.”

He laughed, low and rough, but his hands tightened on your hips. “Maybe I will. If you keep pulling my hair like that.”

You smiled against his neck, nipping lightly. “Promise?”

Jason’s breath stuttered. He walked you backward until your back hit the counter, lifting you easily onto it. Your legs wrapped around his waist without thinking, pulling him closer. His hands slid under your shirt, palms warm against your bare skin as he kissed you — deep, hungry, full of all the want he usually kept so carefully controlled.

You kept one hand in his hair, tugging gently as you kissed him back. The new cut gave you something to hold onto, something to grip when he pressed closer, grinding against you just enough to make you gasp into his mouth.

“I love your hair like this,” you whispered when you broke apart for air. “It’s so soft. So easy to grab.”

Jason’s eyes were dark, pupils blown. “You’re gonna kill me tonight. I can already tell.”

You grinned, tugging again, harder. His head tilted back with a low groan, exposing his throat. You leaned in, sucking a mark just below his ear, then another on his collarbone, leaving little bruises that would peek out from under his shirt tomorrow.

He let you. He always let you.

His hands roamed your body — sliding up your back, down your sides, gripping your thighs as he pulled you closer. Every touch was reverent but hungry, like he couldn’t get enough of you. You kept playing with his hair, running your fingers through the longer pieces in the back, scratching lightly at his scalp.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” you murmured, kissing the corner of his mouth. “My handsome boyfriend with his new haircut. I can’t stop touching it.”

Jason laughed breathlessly, the sound turning into a groan when you tugged again. “Keep doing that and dinner’s gonna burn.”

You glanced over at the stove. The pasta was still simmering, but you didn’t care. You kissed him again, deeper, grinding against him as your fingers stayed tangled in his hair.

“Let it burn,” you whispered against his lips. “I’m busy.”

He groaned, hands sliding under your thighs as he lifted you off the counter, carrying you toward the bedroom without breaking the kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, still playing with his hair, tugging gently every few seconds just to hear the little sounds he made.

When he laid you down on the bed, he hovered over you, eyes dark and soft all at once. “You really like it, huh?”

“I love it,” you said, reaching up to run your fingers through it again. “It makes you look… dangerous. Like you could ruin me and I’d thank you for it.”

Jason’s breath hitched. He leaned down, kissing you slow and deep, one hand braced beside your head, the other sliding under your shirt to rest warm against your stomach. “Then maybe I will,” he murmured against your mouth. “Ruin you. Just a little.”

You smiled, tugging his hair again as you pulled him closer. “Promise?”

He did.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of kisses and touches and soft laughter. Jason was everywhere — hands on your waist, lips on your neck, body pressed against yours as he moved with that effortless grace he always had. He let you play with his hair the whole time, tugging and scratching and holding on as he kissed you senseless.

When you finally fell asleep, tangled together under the sheets, Jason’s head was on your chest, your fingers still loosely threaded through his new haircut.

He was exactly where he wanted to be.

And you? You were right there with him.

One shots:

Happy Mothers Day! — Bruce Wayne/Batmom!Reader

Makeup Time! — Dick Grayson/Reader

Blurbs:

Another Dream — Jason Todd/Reader

What you mean eyelashes? — Jason Todd/Reader

Vent:

Mi Pequeña Venecia

Hope you enjoy ♥️

tugging on the drawstrings of his sweatpants while he moans lowly into your mouth. he shuts the door with one arm while the other holds you up against him. he knows you don’t like to touch communal spaces, no matter how clean your gym may be. so jason holds you up against him, pulling your weight back into him over and over. moving your hips until you’re grinding back against him while his hands on your hips keep you firmly planted there. though he second guesses himself still and he watches you intensely.

“are you sure you’re good ma? we can go home.”

you shake your head vigorously, tugging at the hair on the nape of his neck to bring his mouth closer to yours. “i’m not waiting jay.”

when you fucked like this, it was an out of body experience.

mostly because jason held your weight and his own like no problem and there was nothing to dwell on but how it felt. he places a large palm over your mouth when he guides his length through your soaked folds. dragging it up and teasing before pushing inside like he belonged. he let you moan into his hand and watched your eyes roll back in your skull. he shushes you by your ear.

“i know baby, i know.” groaning out quietly as he prods to fit himself in. “fuck— you’re so tight.”

tears prickling at your eyes already, you shake your head slowly while his hips make slow circling movements. “it’s cause you’re so big.”

jason smiles wide, hips thrusting a little meaner as he watches you try grind back against him, but still not to the hilt yet. “yeah? i’m big? but you like that shit don’t you?”

you’re nodding through the haze of pleasure, nails gripping his back as he continue fucking you through it slowly. not even fully inside, giving half just to pull it away. like being manhandled in the gentlest way possible. his strength unmatched and his body intentional, grinding his hips back into you over and over just feeding a few inches before taking it away. waiting to see you whisper in his ear that you need more, desperation evident.

then he waits until he sees the tears by your eyes start to dissipate before he gives you anymore. feeding another inch inside, his eyes drop to watch him split you open. though even after taking him before this, you weren’t used to his size.

“jay, it’s too much.” you gasp out, the feeling overwhelming. “it won’t fit.” too much and not enough at the same time.

“you’ve done this before ma.” jason tsks, “and said you could handle it. so you can take it hmm?”

his voice deliciously sensual already. you cave immediately. your lip trembles and you nod to let him continue. immediately you moan out loud enough for someone to hear and jason clasps his palm right over your mouth again. but he doesn’t coo you through it, his eyes stay piercing yours while his rhythm picks up and he pushes himself deeper. choking on his own spit at how you felt around him, his hold on you remained tight. he stays buried for a minute to stare at you, watch you catch your breath and adjust to his size.

“can you move please?” you’ll ask breathlessly and he’ll shake his head.

“remember what i said baby. deep breaths.” mimicking what he meant, he watches you. breathing deep and letting it out harshly. when you copy him he smiles. “there you go ma.”

then he shifts his hips again and you lose your train of thought. more intense than it usually is, every movement he makes feels like it drags through you. like you’re pulsating around him and he purposefully continues. but his hands still on your mouth when he realizes that you’re close and he pushes further like he could reach the depths of you. kissing your cervix effortlessly while he turns your head to bite at his shoulder. cause it only felt like the good kind of pain, he’d say.

jason would feel his high approaching and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, reminding you how much he loves you like he wasn’t taking you apart without breaking a sweat, yet. his flush tip with the perfect curve, hitting sweet spots everytime. it was a good idea to make you bite down on something.

groaning into your hair, he lifts you sloppily up and down on him, creating the perfect friction. he almost whines when you clamp around him and whisper that you can’t hold on.

he pants by your ear and his voice is huskier than when he’s not like this. “gonna fuck you so full. take you again when we’re home.”

entirely feral just as you are for him, jason caves and sputters when you wrap your legs around him tighter. he’s just as gone as you and you’re practically begging him to follow through on his words. when you finally let go, that’s when he does too. shooting rope after rope and painting you deep from the inside. like the most beautiful and precious thing he’d ever held, he holds you through it.

his hips with a mind of his own, continuing to thrust up into even when your legs wobble around him. he keeps one arm around your waist, firm and stable while the other rests on the wall to keep him upright as he loses himself completely. still sloppily pushing back into you when you whimper and drop your head against his. that’s when he finally stills and pulls your hair gently, just enough to see your face again.

then he kisses you with all the sweetness the world has to offer. he deepens it as he eases you with both arms now, and keeps your legs around him so you don’t fall. letting lips trail down to your neck to leave gentle bites.

when the door gets knocked on hard, the voice that followed made both of your faces burn. suddenly it occurs to both of you that anyone could’ve heard you. roy’s voice is whisper yelling but you’re sure anyone could’ve heard him with how thin the walls are.

“please stop fucking so i can change outta my trunks. i’m chafing over here.”

It started small, it always did. Jason was a little more closed off, a little more tense. You didn't push him for an explanation, you never did, which only made him feel worse.

You knew that the Joker was part of it, having heard through both civilian and vigilante channels that he was more active lately, and far too close to your apartment for comfort. That led to Jason practically begging you to stay at the manor for a while.

And so you did, not pushing back because you knew it was just for his peace of mind.

You packed up Nessie and any essentials. It wasn't an especially hard adjustment, but came with its own struggles. Jason was being more protective, you were rarely without him during the day, and someone was always around during his patrol shifts.

His siblings tried not to be overbearing, but everyone was worried, and they wanted to be careful around you and Jason. Most of them really didn't know how to approach you, the circumstance surrounding the situation didn't exactly make for easy conversation.

You found things to do though, you still went to work, wanting to maintain some normalcy in the midst of all the struggles. Jason often accompanied you to your job at the local library, he'd sit in a corner, usually with a coffee, and read.

But during patrols, when Jason was gone, you'd either curl up on a couch in the main living room or do small tasks. You'd help Alfred when you could get away with it, but he was reluctant to accept help. You began to read more, crocheting when your hands weren't shaky with nerves or simply excess energy.

It went on for a couple weeks, and tonight was your sixteenth night at the manor. Jason had patrol so Cass was sitting with you, at Jason's request. You'd had a conversation with her, but it hadn't lasted very long. So you were now reading, though you were only half paying attention to the story. Jason had been gone a while, and you were starting to get anxious.

Then you heard raised voices, they were muffled slightly by distance, but you could tell that one of them was Jason. You stood instantly, setting the book to the side, and started moving towards the Cave entrance, entering the study and making your way through the entrance down to the cave, vaguely aware of Cass's soft footsteps behind you.

The closer that you go to the bottom of the stairs, the louder the voices got. You could definitively pick out Jason and Bruce's voices, and Dick trying to deescalate the argument, without much success.

"Jason." You called out softly as you reached the bottom of the steps, and he immediately quieted, and slowly turned towards you, moving to meet you halfway.

Jason was obviously distressed, he had removed his helmet, and the mask under it, but remained in the rest of his armor. His face was slightly flushed, a mix of anger and annoyance, and he looked close to actually breaking down from frustration.

Your hands hovered over his shoulders hesitantly, but only for a couple silent seconds before he buried his head in the space between your neck and shoulders, arms wrapping around you securely.

"You shouldn't be down here." He mumbled softly, but the others nearby could definitely still hear him.

"And you shouldn't be yelling." You replied gently, wrapping you arms around him. Even though you said the words to Jason, the pointed look you were giving Bruce from over Jason's shoulder spoke volumes

Then you heard a throat clearing to your side.

"Jason."

It was Dick, and, given his tone, he was worried. He didn't reach out to his little brother physically, but stood nearby, trying to be supportive.

"I'm not going out there again." Jason cut him off, his voice louder, more tense. "If B is going to kick me out of the field, and make me come to this fucking house, then I'm staying here, with them."

"I know, I don't expect you to." Dick sighed, taking a small step back, not wanting to push for the moment, and you could see his movement from out of the corner of your eye.

"Jason, I didn't pull you from patrol without reason." Bruce spoke up gently from across the cave, and you could see that his whole body was tense.

You made a face only vaguely directed at Bruce, a mix of an eye roll and slight acceptance, but you didn't say anything, letting Jason speak for himself for the moment.

"Kinda fucking seemed that way." Jason scoffed, pulling back slightly, kissing your temple, but keeping his arms around you, reluctantly looking over at Bruce.

"The Joker was present." Bruce stated simply, as if that was an explanation enough for his actions and orders.

You sucked in a harsh breath, but Jason just huffed in annoyance and frustration.

"I don't completely shut down at the sight of him, I can manage myself enough to not go catatonic immediately." He insisted, arms around you tightening. "And I have enough self control to not shoot his brains out on the spot."

"It still wouldn't be a good idea." Bruce responded, doubt creeping into his voice slightly, but he tried to hide it.

Bruce took a few steps toward Jason, every word and movement thick with thinly veiled tension.

"And everything that could go wrong was simply avoided by sending you home." He added after a moment, glancing over at you briefly when you made a small sound of annoyance.

"But I'm not home, in fact, the fucking Joker is closer to my home than I am." Jason retorted, snapping slightly, pulling you behind him as his adoptive father continued to move towards him. "Don't act like it wasn't because you don't trust me."

Bruce didn't refute the accusation, and, noticing Jason's stance around you, he paused his movements.

"Jason—" He started with a small sigh.

"Bruce." You cut him off firmly, already subtly guiding Jason towards the stairs slowly with gentleness. "Don't start a fight tonight. No one will get anything good out of it."

You paused slightly, glancing over at Jason's congregated siblings, gaze locking in on Dick, who had a small look of guilt creeping into his expression.

"What ever else is out there you and the others can handle for tonight." You said, addressing everyone in the Cave at large. "Without Jason."

Bruce said your name firmly, as if to try and stop you, and you felt Jason tense under your palms.

Jason stopped, you gave him another small push forward, as if to encourage him to continue up the stairs, but he didn't budge.

"Don't talk to her like that." Jason finally spoke up, watching his adoptive father carefully.

You turned to Bruce, expecting a fight, or for him to lecture you, but you instead found a tired frustration in his eyes. It was as if he was trying to nonverbally get you to understand why he'd done what he had.

"I'm not—" Bruce started with more thinly veiled frustration in his voice, but his tone had softened slightly.

"I know." You interrupted the two of them, sending Bruce a look that simply said to let it go for the night.

"Let's just talk tomorrow morning, when we all have clear heads." You continued, you saw Dick nod in agreement out of the corner of your eyes.

Bruce's shoulders relaxed slightly, he also nodded in acceptance.

"Thanks." You mumbled softly, giving him a small smile before you turned to face Jason, who was still watching Bruce intensely.

"Go Jason." You said softly to him, quietly enough that only he heard you. "He isn't upset at us. You can go upstairs."

Jason nodded slowly, gaze sliding from Bruce to you before he looked ahead of him, once again moving to the stairs, with you subtly leading him.

He was led easily, a small smile forming on his face as he followed you, letting you lead him all the way to his room before speaking.

"Thank you." He said softly as he pushed the door open for you, letting it close behind the two of you.

"Of course." You hummed as if it truly were that simple. "You needed out, and I'm not scared of him."

He huffed a small laugh as he started to shed his remaining armor, which you collected as he redressed.

"I'll bring this back down to the Cave, you get comfortable." You said giving his a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Ya sure you wanna?" He asked softly, watching you carefully. "You don't have to y'know."

"Yeah, I'm sure. It'll be fine." You said with a nod. "Now get comfortable, don't make me force you to."

"Yes ma'am." He said with a slight smile, the frustration and anger from earlier mostly forgotten in the moment.

You gave him another quick kiss, this time on the lips, before taking the armor and slipping out of the room.

You moved to the Cave quickly, wanting to get back to Jason as soon as possible, and as you reentered Alfred appeared beside you almost magically, taking the armor easily with a small nod of acknowledgement.

You smiled slightly, and turned to leave, not wanting to restart the argument, when you heard the sound of Dick clearing his throat to your left.

You turned, automatically stiffening out of instinct, even if you knew he wasn't one to fight, especially with you, and even more so about Jason.

"How is he?" He asked finally, obviously referring to his younger brother. "I know nights after the Joker can be rough—”

"He'll be fine." You reassured him, relaxing slightly. "Just needs some rest, and for someone to be there for him, and with him."

"Which you can do." Dick mumbled under his breath, mostly to himself, as reassurance.

"I can." You reaffirm with a small nod. "He's in good hands, trust me."

"I do." Dick responded easily, as if he wouldn't question that. "Just…let him know I'll take care of the Bowery and Park Row tonight, and for however long he needs me to."

"I will." You said with a small nod, ready to move back up the stairs when Dick spoke again.

"Tell him that if he needs out of Gotham for a while, no one would blame him, we can handle it." He paused before adding. "and that I'm just worried, and care about him."

You smiled slightly, nodding again, and moving to give Dick a quick hug.

"I'll let him know, thank you Dick." You said as you pulled back. "See you tomorrow, be safe."

"I will, see ya." He said with a small hum as he watched you go back up the stairs into the manor.

You walked back to Jason's room quickly, thinking over your conversation with Dick as you reached the door and pushed in softly.

Jason's eyes moved to you as you entered, he was sitting up on the bed, leaning back against the headboard, one single lamp illuminating the room.

"Hey." You hummed as you shed your cardigan and slid into bed next to him. "Dick said to let you know he's taking care of your territory tonight, and that if you need out of Gotham for a while they'll be fine."

"Of course he did." Jason huffed slightly. "He's good at that, being there for people."

You hummed in response, nodding slightly.

"You think you'll leave for a while?" You asked softly, looking up at him.

"No, not if you aren't coming with me, and I know that's a little difficult between your job and college." He said, shaking his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours.

You smiled slightly, leaning up to kiss him, relaxing in the moment before you pulled back.

"As much as I love and appreciate the sentiment, going somewhere else might be good for you." You hummed with a small smile. "And I'm sure I could get some time off, if it really matters that I'm there."

"It does." Jason insisted, causing you to laugh lightly. "But I'll think about it, if you really think it'd be good for me."

"I do." You confirmed with a nod. "but I also think rest would help, so sleep on it."

You reached over to click off the lamp, and Jason let you, pulling up the blankets slightly to help you both slip under them fully.

"Love you." He hummed softly, placing a kiss on your shoulder as his arms slipped around you, letting you relax into him more.

"I love you too." You said quietly as you felt his breathing slow and his body relax as he fell asleep almost remarkably quick, with you not far after him.

You were a bit tired, not physically, but mentally. Nothing had prepared you for what it meant to date Jason Todd. He was different with you, he treated you well and was affectionate, especially in more intimate moments where it was just the two of you.

You had fallen deeply in love with him and vice versa or, at least, that was what you thought, because lately Jason Todd, your boyfriend, wasn’t around in the apartment you shared, the one you bought together in the first months of your relationship. Most nights he wasn’t there. You understood it, he was Red Hood, he had things to do, but when he was there, his presence felt distant. He didn’t want to spend time with you anymore, you barely spoke, and things weren’t going well in bed either. You counted the days since the last time you slept together: eighteen…

You didn’t understand what had gone wrong between you two. Did he not want you anymore? If so, why wouldn’t he tell you? Maybe the problem wasn’t him, maybe it was you. Those thoughts were the worst. You always found yourself overthinking in the middle of the night because of them, long nights with no comfort and no one to call. Your other half no longer seemed to want anything to do with you.

On the nights Jason went on patrol, he came back around four in the morning. Sometimes, if there was a raid or something more serious, he wouldn’t return until midday. You used to wait eagerly for his arrival. When he appeared, you would always throw yourself at him, kissing his soft lips and wishing him good night. He would always hug you, wrapping his muscular arms around your waist, resting his forehead against your shoulder, craving every part of you.

Aside from that, Jason had always tried to be present in your life, adjusting his schedule so he could at least spend a few hours with you. You remember those glorious days as if they were long gone, but you weren’t going to let that be the end of it. You were willing to try to save your relationship, no matter the cost. You needed Jason back.

Today you woke up early, something you normally didn’t do. You looked at the opposite side of the bed. There lay Jason, sleeping as if it were his last day on Earth. You caressed his hair, and he let out a small grunt in response.

The clock read seven in the morning, the perfect time to get up, clean the house, and prepare breakfast. Maybe that would cheer him up a bit and make him pay attention to you.

After several hours, Jason finally decided to get up, just in time for breakfast. You had cooked his favorite cookies. Coffee was served, black, no sugar, with a bit of almond milk, Jason’s favorite.

You were still wearing pajama pants, but you had changed into a tighter shirt, no bra. The intention was clear.

As soon as he crossed the door, you greeted him enthusiastically. He didn’t look at you; instead, his eyes went straight to the cookies. A small smile slipped from his lips. You would have liked that smile to be for you and not for the food, but a win was a win, however small, right?

When he finally looked up at you, he greeted you without much enthusiasm. He didn’t notice the shirt or the shape of your beautiful breasts without a bra restricting them. He didn’t even give you a good morning kiss.

You both sat at the table. Jason’s chair let out a small creak when he dropped his weight onto it, showing how old and worn it was. “Damn chair, we need to replace it,” he muttered between his teeth.

You nodded without paying much attention to what he said. Instead, you were stirring your hopes in your coffee, dissatisfied. You sighed, remembering how the touch of his lips against your skin used to make you shiver and feel like you truly belonged somewhere, like you belonged to him. Those precious days felt like they were from another lifetime…

Did he not desire you anymore?

It seemed like passion had vanished, leaving behind a rigid stone wall that, no matter how much you tried to break it, you couldn’t even crack. Condemned to live a life longing for someone who no longer needed you.

Leaving your thoughts behind, you got up to shower and go to work.

At the large warehouse where you worked, the day passed slowly. Cigarettes didn’t help calm the small knot of anxiety that had begun forming in your chest just from thinking about Jason. You feared your boyfriend no longer loved you.

Maybe I am the problem, you kept repeating to yourself.

Writing your thoughts and feelings in your small notebook no longer helped; on the contrary, it made things worse.

When you returned to the apartment, the air felt cold, empty, and somehow no longer carried that comforting scent that used to make you feel safe.

Jason wasn’t home. He would probably arrive late again, damn patrols…

You opened the fridge door, but there were only depressing cans of tuna that Jason insisted on eating because they had more protein than those processed supermarket foods.

That night you didn’t eat dinner.

When you woke up the next day, you didn’t notice any trace of your boyfriend, but his pillow was gone.

When you went to the living room, you saw Jason’s body resting on the sofa.

You raised an eyebrow. So now you didn’t even sleep together anymore…

Determined, you approached him to wake him up. It was time to confront him and ask what the hell had been going on lately.

“Jason,” you murmured.

Seeing he didn’t wake up, you raised your voice slightly.

“Jason Todd.”

The man slowly opened his eyes, stretching his arms.

“Is something wrong?” he asked sleepily.

One of his eyebrows lifted slightly, a small gesture he always made.

You crossed your arms. “We need to talk.”

Hearing your serious tone, he straightened up and got off the sofa.

“Is it necessary?” he replied.

His eyes were red from lack of sleep.

“Jason, don’t you love me anymore?”

Boom, straight to the point.

Jason blinked, confused. His expression was unreadable. He didn’t know what to answer and his brain couldn’t find any excuse, maybe because he had just woken up and you were already throwing a bomb at him.

“It’s not that…” he said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Then what is it?”

“It’s nothing.”

Hurt, your eyes began to well up. “Well, from my point of view, it is. You don’t look at me, there are days you don’t speak to me, and we don’t sleep together anymore, among many other things.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Jason didn’t dare look you in the eyes, the bastard. He felt ashamed. Everything you said was true, but he couldn’t help it. Something had changed. He didn’t know what, but he felt it. Maybe it was true, maybe he didn’t love you like he once had, or maybe he was just afraid of how much he loved you, a contrast he couldn’t understand.

“Are you so busy that you can’t say good morning or good night to me?” you snapped.

Silence stretched between you both. The words hung in the air, unanswered. Jason stayed in the same spot, unmoving, not daring to respond.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” he admitted after a while of uncomfortable silence.

“Then let’s talk about it, because I can’t take this anymore, Jason. I feel like I’m chasing ghosts and it’s destroying me,” you replied. Your voice cracked a little, but you didn’t allow yourself to cry yet.

The man looked away. You could see tears beginning to form in his eyes. You had never seen him cry; he always hid behind walls that didn’t let you see much of him.

You reached a finger to wipe his tears. He gently pushed it away. At that rejection, you stiffened.

“I don’t understand you.”

“You don’t need to.”

“You’re going to lose me,” you said, now crying too, unable to stop it. “Is this what you do? Push people away when your life starts making sense again?”

Jason stayed silent. He didn’t know what to answer, because maybe it was true. He loved you so much that just having you in his life scared him in a way he couldn’t explain, but it was also true he had never been good with words, so he swallowed his emotions and said in a distant tone: “I have to go. Gotham needs me.”

I need you too. The words didn’t come out; they got stuck, unable to leave your lips. You watched as your boyfriend’s figure faded in front of you.

Days passed and everything stayed the same. Jason started sleeping more often on the sofa. Neither of you dared to talk, neither at lunch nor dinner, though you rarely ate together anymore. Miserable, you cried at night trying to numb the pain inside you.

Jason walked through Gotham’s night streets, holding his Red Hood helmet in his calloused hands. Patrols had become harder. When Jason entered a room, the atmosphere changed. Everyone could tell how broken Jason Todd was.

Down the empty street, in the distance, you could only see a couple kissing passionately. Passion radiating from them. Poor Jason wanted to die when he got closer and realized it was you with someone else.

“Oh…” That was the only word Jason could say.

When you noticed his presence, you quickly pulled away from the guy, a drug addict you had met a few days ago on the street, with whom you had formed a connection due to your similar emotional state.

The Junkie, addicted to drugs, desperately craving something that hurt him.

Ha.

How ironic. You were the same, but with Jason.

Furious, Jason approached the guy. His face would never be the same after the beating he intended to give him. He raised his fists, but before he could strike, you stopped him.

“Wait,” you begged, “it’s not his fault.”

“You betrayed me.”

“Jason, I…” you stammered. He was right, damn it, of course he was. Your boyfriend might have been neglecting you, but you were the one who had crossed the line. You had cheated.

Fuck, fuck, fuck…

You had screwed up. Now there was no way to fix things…

“I thought you were better than this. I never thought you would stoop this low,” he whispered angrily. A hint of sadness was in his tone. He had let the drug addict go, who was now on the ground searching through his pockets, but neither of you cared.

“And what did you want me to do?” you shouted, “Stay still, waiting for the day you decide to love me again? I have needs too, Jason. I need to feel something.” You said defeated. “And I’m disgusting because I cheated on you with the first person who gave me a bit more attention than you, and I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help it.”

Jason felt broken inside, but he knew you were right, and deep down he had a feeling this would happen sooner or later. Maybe if he weren’t such a coward, he would have already put that damm ring on your finger that he had been hiding under his underwear for months…

The Junkie, in full panic, pulled out a knife, afraid Jason would kill him for catching him kissing his girlfriend, and let’s be honest, he probably would have if you hadn’t stopped him.

With a single move, Jason dodged the attack. Lucky for him, he was still wearing the Red Hood suit (except the helmet), so that little knife wouldn’t have done much anyway.

A sharp pain appeared right under your ribs. It turned out that when Jason dodged the stab, because you were so close, the blade had pierced your abdomen.

Blood, a lot of blood. For how small the blade was, it began to pour out of your abdomen.

You placed your hands over it. When you looked at them again, your palms were covered in a dull red.

“Jason…” you sighed.

He quickly knocked out the drug addict before he could escape, leaving him unconscious. Desperate, he rushed to you, helping you sit on the ground.

He took off his shirt to press it against your bleeding abdomen. His muscular torso now visible in the moonlight. “Shit, babe, I’m so sorry.” His voice broke. A small smile appeared on your face. Babe, that word you hadn’t heard in so many days.

Jason pressed the shirt harder on your abdomen, using his free hand to help you lean against the bench leg. You could feel his hands trembling under your weight but didn’t comment on it. “Jay, I’m sorry,” you murmured, instinctively bringing your hands toward the wound, feeling intense pain that didn’t seem to go away.

Jason moved your hands away; the last thing he needed was for you to get an infection on top of everything “I know, I know…” He pressed harder. The knife must have damaged an internal organ, probably the liver, he bit his cheek.

His hands were shaking even more.

Jason didn’t understand why; he had been through worse situations, but the fact that the victim was you… He was desperately trying to stop the bleeding, but more and more blood kept coming out and your skin was starting to lose color.

You felt a sudden headache that made you dizzy, and nausea began to rise. The last thing you wanted was to vomit on Jason.

Weakness began to take hold of you, and would have sworn you were on the verge of fainting, though luckily you didn’t, not yet.

“Listen,” he ordered, “I don’t want to scare you, but I think this is worse than it looks and you need urgent medical help.” Jason’s mind was racing. His motorcycle was only five minutes away, but you couldn’t walk, and carrying you wasn’t feasible.

“I’m going to call Bruce,” he finally said. “He’ll know what to do.” His Red Hood helmet lay a few inches away, forgotten on the ground. It had a direct communication system he could use to call him…

With trembling fingers he tapped the side of the helmet. Help was on the way.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, needing to distract you from the hole in your abdomen. He noticed your eyes beginning to fill with tears from lack of oxygen, breathing becoming weak. Jason ran his trembling fingers over your cheek, moving a strand of hair away from your face.

“Damn it, I’m sorry too,” he admitted, his voice breaking, “I’ve been an idiot, I was scared. No one had ever made me feel like this and…”

You interrupted him by touching his cheek. You didn’t have much strength left. Your hand instinctively moved toward his tears. This time he didn’t pull away. “These days have been really hard, I didn’t understand anything, I thought…” The words got stuck in your throat. Now that you looked into his eyes, you realized how stupid you had been. “I thought you didn’t love me anymore…”

“Sweetheart, that’s not going to happen,” he pressed the shirt harder, glancing at his wristwatch. Ten minutes had passed since he called Bruce. Damn, where was he?

He looked back at the helmet; it emitted an error sound. Damn it. “I promise you,” he added.

You tried to speak, but you couldn’t. “Pinkie promise?” finally said a few seconds later, knowing how much your boyfriend hated that phrase; he thought it was too cheesy.

“Pinkie promise,” he replied. In response, you smiled weakly.

You rested your forehead against his. You needed to feel his warmth, as the cold had begun to surround you. Your body no longer absorbed his heat like before; Now your eyes were half-closed, disconnecting from the world, and it felt horrible, but you couldn’t stop it.

Jason, devastated by the situation, closed the distance between you two, pressing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss that showed how much he desired you. You sighed at the kiss you had missed so much. But didn’t return it; you didn’t have the strength.

Your boyfriend noticed it, of course he did. The blood soaked through the shirt, now staining the cold asphalt. It made him even more nervous; the situation was slipping away and you were fading in front of him.

“I swear if you die I’ll kill you,” he said between a mix of laughter and what sounded like... Wait, was that a sob?

The helmet emitted another sound; a broken voice came through it. “Jason? What’s going on?” Bruce.

Jason turned his head toward the source of the sound “It’s an emergency, she’s been stabbed in the abdomen, she’s losing a lot of blood, I don’t think she’ll make it much longer…” he replied urgently.

“Situation assessment?” Bruce asked.

“She’s been pierced by a damn knife!”

A sigh. “First step, don’t panic,” Bruce ordered. “Are you trying to stop the bleeding?”

“What do you think?” he snapped sarcastically, losing patience and time.

“I’m on my way.”

Sleep was beginning to take over you more and more. You felt weaker and dizzy; the damn addict had stabbed you hard. When you tried to close your eyes, Jason stopped you.

“Keep your eyes open. Help will be here soon,” Jason said. “Don’t follow any light or go into any tunnel, okay?” He said it jokingly but his tone was serious.

You shifted uncomfortably; the pain increased along with the bleeding. You looked at Jason’s shirt, once black, now stained with a red that would probably never wash out.

“Jason I—” your words came out slow and weak, “I don't think I can.” Your vision blurred. You couldn’t see his face clearly anymore.

“Of course you can,” he murmured. He was afraid. His trembling fingers began to stroke your hair as a final act of kindness.

The minutes passed, and no one showed up. He was losing you...

“Hey, sweetheart…” he whispered, tapping your cheek. You had closed your eyes, and for some reason you didn’t open them again. “No, no, no!” Jason panicked. His hands started shaking. He didn’t know what to do. You were slipping away, dying, and he could do nothing.

In a last desperate attempt, he held you tightly, embracing your cold, lifeless body.

The pain was unbearable. It felt as though he'd been stabbed twice. Once in the forehead, and that was the one that hurt the most. He couldn’t stop thinking about all those days, the long days, as he called them, where he couldn’t show how much he loved you. Guilt consumed him.

Another stab in the chest. The one that killed him. A sharp pain spreading that he couldn’t extinguish. He had never asked you to marry him or told you how much he loved you, damn idiot.

Devastated, he began to cry for real this time. He had lost you forever.

“Stop,” Jason grumbles. He presses his palm against your hip and shifts closer, his hair brushing your side as he shifts closer to you.

“Stop tickling me and I’ll stop moving,” you counter, moving your thumb in an arc beneath his ribcage.

“You’re fine,” he argues.

You smile as Jason’s eyes close, a content smile on his face. Gently, you trace the ink that had been beneath your hand.

“There are few people whom I really love, and still fewer of whom I think well,” you whisper. “But you’re both.”

Jason hums against you and slips his hand higher toward your waist, pushing your sleep shorts past his spot on your hip. Since your first kiss in a Wayne Enterprises elevator, his hand has found the same spot — his destination for and a conduit of comfort, love, and adoration. He pushes himself up carefully to kiss the small tattoo there.

“I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve,” Jason murmurs.

“Careful,” you warn, pulling him closer when you roll back on the bed to look up at him. “A lady’s imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”

“My lady jumped from a series of somewhat dangerous but serendipitous makeout meetings to matching tattoos,” Jason reminds you, smiling at you with his chin resting on your hip bone. His finger continues tracing the tattoo on your other side while you tap the mirror image where you often hold your hand to feel his heart beating.

“You didn’t argue,” you muse.

“I can’t argue with you. And I certainly wouldn’t consider arguing against a nod to Austen’s masterpiece.”

“Me and you.”

The ampersand tattoo design is from the cover of the copy of Pride and Prejudice you both had with you when you met. It was the reason you approached Jason in the first place. Then passing conversation about Elizabeth and Darcy became meeting for coffee to discuss the themes and implications of the book, then a night at your apartment to binge watch all the adaptations and choose a favorite together. Soon after that, Jason asked you out and you’ve never looked back. The tattoo has become more than a reminder of the book; it’s a symbol of the connection between you and Jason. And.

“Do you really think we’d get married someday?” Jason wonders.

“I do,” you admit. “I’d like to, even. Life with you is the life I always dreamed of.”

“And we can grow old and grumpy together,” he muses. “You getting prettier and smarter each year that I get more impatient and develop more joint pain.”

“What’s the quote about making fun of neighbors?” you inquire, chuckling at Jason’s view of the future.

“Uh… For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbors, and laugh at them in turn, I think?”

“Smart and handsome,” you sigh. “I think you’ll be the one getting prettier with age.”

“Maybe,” Jason mutters. He pushes himself up and kisses you slowly, smiling against you when your hands gravitate toward the tattoos, like there are magnets within each of you that will always lead the other home, a lighthouse in the storms of life, a home in a cruel world.

“You want to watch the movie don’t you?” Jason knows.

“We can make scones and call it a date,” you suggest.

“A few more kisses and I’ll consider it,” he groans, lying against you so you can’t leave him here. As if you would.

“Her heart did whisper that he had done it for her,” you murmur when he begins kissing along your jawline.

Jason freezes before he reaches your lips again. Sitting up, he inclines his ear toward the door and scowls. “We have company,” he whispers. “Rain check on that date?”

“On one condition,” you stipulate. “You read to me tonight. Any book you want.”

“I’m reading Wilde right now.”

You lean forward and kiss Jason’s tattoo. His breath catches, his eyes steady on you as you raise.

“Deal,” you agree. “Now, let’s see who’s here.”

“It’s Dick.” Jason grabs your wrist to keep you in the bed, blinking rapidly before suggesting, “Maybe he’ll leave if we stay quiet.”

“We won’t stop breaking in until a sister-in-law asks us to!” Dick calls from the kitchen. “Even then it might be a case-to-case basis.”

“Wilde,” Jason reminds himself, holding your hips as he stands.

“I love you,” you remind him.