#enemy fire | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

aries-writingblog · 1 year

Text

Enemy Fire: 22.5

Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd × F. Reader

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings:

AN: photos are from Pinterest

YN readjusted her position on the overstuffed suede couch. All of the furniture in the Manor felt stiff, unused. Supremely uncomfortable, despite what Bruce had probably paid for the items.

The Wayne Manor was an interesting conundrum, in of itself.

With its steep staircases and grand, sweeping halls it was all regal. And in opposition to the Gothic exterior, the interior was brightly lit. Floor to ceiling windows, various chandeliers hung brilliantly from the ceilings and sconces decorated the walls.

What was interesting was the mash of art and photography.

What seemed to be authentic, antique paintings. Various portraits of, what appeared to be the Wayne family. Young Bruce and his parents, all smiling and sitting comfortably together.

All around the mansion, there were framed photographs of various stages in the lives of the Wayne children.

Bruce was obviously proud of his children— and even those who weren’t adopted had several photos in their home.

And the animals…

They also had their place in the hall of photographs.

A dog, cat, cow, three goldfish, and a newly acquired pet lizard.

All Damian’s. The boy seemed to have a knack and a liking for the critters. They were all well behaved animals, as well; YN could at least acknowledge his diligence in training the beasts. Even if he didn’t quite trust her enough yet to let them be around her.

A screech down the hall jolted her from her reading. Various other loud noises joined in after the scream— the cacophony fortunately headed down the hallway, not in her own direction.

She had found refuge in the library, away from all the noise and people. Wayne Manor could barely be categorized as crowded, but sometimes it still felt like it.

Jason stepped out of his shower, wrapping a towel around his waist.

He had barely slept since his arrival and it was beginning to wreak havoc on his systems.

Memories he hadn’t thought of in years flooded him every night; Terrors and nightmares kept him awake, when his recurrent insomnia wasn’t on duty.

Every corner he turned in the Mansion reminded him of a time before.

Before the pain and hurt.

Before he was the creature he had become.

He blinked, realizing he had been standing in a haze. Unfocused eyes stared back at him in the mirror before they trailed down to the patchwork of his chest and abdomen.

He clenched his jaw, teeth grinding in aggravation.

He was going to lose his fucking mind in this place.

Jason managed to escape his room, fully dressed. He hadn’t the faintest idea of what he was supposed to do, now that he and YN were a package deal on house arrest.

YN…

Fuck, he hadn’t even checked in with her for days. He had been so strung out, his mind had begun slipping.

Ever since the training session he had sat in on, something sat at the base of his skull. A wriggling, nagging little thing.

Doubt.

He knew it had to be doubt.

It was persistent; Asking if he had done the right thing. If, perhaps STAR labs would’ve been a better choice.

Because Jason had done exactly what Bruce had done.

He made a decision for her. Without her even knowing about an option to consent to. He had made an attempt on her life, for God’s sake.

He hadn’t even stopped to think about the impact of that choice.

What if she had actually died?

Gangsters were notoriously untrustworthy.

Why the fuck had he put her life in the hands of some… guy?

Why the fuck had he gotten involved with her in the first place? She was plenty capable of handling herself.

Why the fuck had he ever thought he could be a friend to someone?

Jason Todd was a cancer.

And he couldn’t ruin her. YN was this… magnificent warmth. He was going to bleed her dry, until she was as cold as he was.

“Are you okay?” YN asked.

Jason blinked. He realized, with a start that he had been blindly wandering the hallways.

“What?” He asked, voice hoarse and strained. He had heard words, but they had been muted— as if underwater.

YN arched a brow, her head dipping lower to catch his eyes.

“You’ve been standing in the doorway for like five minutes.” She explained.

“M’fine.” He brushed her off, leaning against the doorframe. Attempting to be casual. It was increasingly difficult, considering his previous train of thought— that seemed to stick like gum on his shoe. “You been training?”

He nodded to the darkening mark around her eye. Evidence that someone could land a punch on her.

YN clicked her tongue, annoyance settling over her. She guessed he had heard about the training session from earlier, where she handed Duke’s ass to him and slammed Cass to the mats.

She hadn’t known to take it easy— they had told her to give it her all, to see what they were against. To make it fair, she hadn’t used any supernatural abilities, it had only been hand to hand.

But truthfully, Jason hadn’t spoken to any of his siblings yet.

He was simply being observant.

“You here to tell me I’m too violent?” She grumbled, sinking deeper into the sofa, trying to use her book to guard her face.

He sighed, pushing his weight back away from the doorframe.

“You’re too reckless. Sometimes violence is a means to an end, it’s easier and more effective.” Jason explained, moving further into the room. He stopped at the end on the couch, his knee brushing the bottom of her socked foot. “But being hostile and violent without a plan never ends well.”

“I plan stuff.” She grumbled, unhappily. He snorted.

“Not a good plan if it ends with improvise, or if you panic halfway through.”

“Jerk.”

Jason smirked.

Maybe he could bask in her warmth without leeching it. Maybe there was hope.

“What are you reading today, Tails?” He asked, attempting to peek through her fingers to the title.

YN dropped the book to her lap, her pen jotting down small words in the margin.

“Some idiot put these annotations in and they’re all wrong. Going through and correcting them.” She explained, finishing up her writing before picking the book back up.

Jason squinted, focusing in on the small swathe of book title he could read.

It looked familiar. Almost like…

He snapped forward, snatching the book out of her hands. She cried out in anger, confusion on her features.

“Those are my annotations.” Jason flipped through several pages. All the writing was in his neat penmanship, though now there was accompanying writing along side his. His was written in black ink, hers in purple.

Nearly all the purple contradicted the black, not to mention the question marks beside some of his words.

“Oh. You got them all wrong.” YN corrected, peeking over the top of the book.

Jason scowled, snapping it closed.

“That’s not possible. It was my own interpretation.” He argued.

YN shrugged, leaning back into the couch again.

“Your interpretation sucks.”

“You suck.”

“Your mom.”

Jason laughed, a haughty sound as he propped his hands on his hips.

“Jokes on you, my mom is dead.”

“What the fuck?”

Both Jason and YN’s heads snapped to the doorway, where the voice emanated from. Dick stood in blatant confusion at the predicament he arrived into.

YN leaned forward and snatched the book from his grasp, settling back into her place comfortably. A grin on her lips.

Jason frowned— both at her and his brother.

His eyes narrowed as he straightened his spine, his chest becoming more broad. Unconsciously, he leaned to the side, slightly; Just enough to begin blocking Dick’s view of YN.

“What do you want?” Jason groused.

Dick took the opportunity to step into the room further, as if he had been invited.

Jason clenched his fists.

In his visions of warmth, he had never imagined sharing. Much less with Grayson.

“I was going to ask YN if she had eaten dinner yet.” Dick offered, attempting to peek around the mountainous form of his brother.

Jason narrowed his eyes.

“What’s it to you?”

“Being friendly.” Dick shrugged.

“What for?”

“Why are you giving me the third degree?”

YN lifted a brow, her head tilting to see around Jason. The shit eating grin on Dick’s face told her enough.

Jason only bulked up; His chest and shoulders expanding. A sneer on his face.

“Was that a fucking pun— I’ll put a bullet in your ankle.”

YN heaved a dramatic sigh, slamming the book closed and leaving it on the table. She stood and stretched her shoulders out— arms rising above her head. Her shirt lifted, revealing her hips, where her pants were riding low.

Jason physically stopped himself from reaching out and pulling her shirt back down.

A violent shade of green tinged his sight, staking through his heart. Dissatisfied that Dick was able to bear witness.

YN didn’t seem to care that either were in the room with her.

“I’m already booked with Cass, Steph, and Barbara. Thanks anyway, Dick.” YN bumped Jason out of the way with her shoulder. He barely moved. “See you around, loser.”

She disappeared out of the doorway and almost instantly became untraceable. Jason didn’t know how she kept managing to do that— he was able to hear a mouse sneeze from two rooms over. Yet, he could never hear her footsteps or her heartbeat.

It was as infuriating as she was.

“Are they forming a girl group?” Dick asked, pointing after her. He frowned. “Dammit, why does she get accepted into girl’s nights and I don’t?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Bludhaven?” Jason asked, irritated by his brother’s increased presence. “Maybe have a job and shit?”

Dick frowned. He and Jason hadn’t been on the best of terms since the arrest went down. He couldn’t blame him for the betrayal he must have felt.

He did wish that Jason wasn’t such a vindictive personality.

That he would willingly sit and chat instead of keeping everything pent up until it exploded.

“I’m here for the weekend.” Dick answered, simply. He turned it on Jason, eyes wide and innocent. “Why are you still here?”

“I’m making sure you don’t talk YN into signing her soul over to you freaks.” Jason griped, hands shoved into his pockets and chin tilted up. Jaw clenched.

Dick’s brow furrowed.

“What?” He asked, meeting his brother’s sharp gaze. “The Titans— you heard that conversation?”

Jason’s eyes narrowed. What conversation? He had already tried recruiting her?

What the hell was his game?

“I don’t care what you’re trying to accomplish,” He started, his voice low enough to sound calm, but still threatening. “I don’t care if you think she could save all of Gotham City— or the tristate area, or the country. Stop with the hero shit.”

“What if it’s something she wants?” Dick countered, almost instantly. Jason’s jaw clenched tighter. He had just preached to himself about loosening that obsessive, possessive grip. Here he was: breaking it again. “You can’t force her to make a decision you like just because you’re in love with her.”

Oh…

Oh, no…

Fuck.

Fuck— what if Dick was right?

No; No, Dick was wrong. He didn’t love her. He barely even knew her. These past months had been acquaintanceship— strained friendship at best.

Dick was talking out of his league again.

“Shut the hell up.” Jason rumbled, his chest tingling with the building chaos.

“You can’t even admit it to yourself.” Dick scoffed, lips pulling into a deprecating, half smile.

“There’s nothing to admit.”

“You’ve frozen your heart for so long you can’t even thaw it if you wanted to.”

“I said, shut up!”

Jason lunged forward, wrapping his arm around Dick’s throat. He didn’t falter, however, and immediately clawed at his much larger brother’s arms. Managing to wriggle out of his grasp, Dick stumbled back.

His expression read shock. He knew that Jason had been repressing everything, but he didn’t know that he had been denying it existed.

To Jason’s credit, he had a tinge of regret in his eyes. Anger still clouded the bicolored irises, leaving his face creased with the violent streaks of rage.

But his hands started trembling.

He didn’t even think— he had just attacked.

He attacked his brother, again.

Jason backed away, nervousness beginning to settle in his bones. He cast one final glare in Dick’s direction.

“Stay away from her.” He warned, shoving past the eldest Wayne.

Dick tripped over his feet, the force of Jason’s push harsher than he had anticipated.

He was in for an extremely rude awakening, later; Dick unfortunately, knew the realization was going to be a bitch. And even though he was being a first class asshole recently, Jason would calm down after a few days.

He just needed to settle.

The dust needed to clear in his head before he could see his heart.

#jason todd x reader #enemy fire #jason todd x f!reader #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you

111 notes · View notes

aries-writingblog · 1 year

Text

Enemy Fire: 25

Summary: There's a new kid in town, and she's got a city to usurp.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem! Reader

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: language, stab wound, violence, mention of gun violence, alcohol consumption

AN: it’s here, babes. The moment we’ve all waited for. Photos from Pinterest (credit to original creator)

Jason paced over the carpet in the hallway. The strands of thread worn into tracks from how he had been continuously treading over them.

The room to his left was silent— barely even the thumping heartbeats audible. But fuck, was he relieved to hear two.

His hands hadn’t stopped shaking since Bruce told him. He’d shoved them deep into his pockets, forcing his face to stay neutral when his heart exploded into fragments. Piercing his insides, slicing his organs.

In that instant, Jason wished he had let her leave Gotham. He wanted to go back and get her out before anything else could happen.

Go back to the stakeout mission, get up, throw his cup away, get on his bike and leave.

He should’ve known that his luck would bleed into her own. He was cursed and it was on her now.

There was no escape anymore.

The door clicked open, and the tall frame of Alfred presented itself. He closed the door firmly, his gaze swinging onto the flushed face of Jason before him.

“What happened?” Jason demanded, his eyes wide. Boring into Alfred’s face.

The boy was disheveled, clearly distraught. Alfred blamed Bruce; All he was probably told was that YN was stabbed and Alfred was working on her. It was no good, riling Jason up, that way.

Making him worry over nothing.

“She aided Master Bruce in stopping a robbery. One of the thieves pulled a knife. On Damian.”

“She took it for him?” Jason asked, confusion riddling his features.

YN took a knife? For Damian Wayne, of all people…

“Then she shot them.” Alfred continued, untroubled by the bewilderment of his ward.

“Damian?”

“The criminals, Master Todd, keep afoot.” Alfred advised, linking his hands together behind his back.

Jason pressed his hand to his face, exhaling a soft sigh. Adam’s Apple bobbing as he swallowed; His fingers moving to comb through his hair, pushing it back from where it flopped over his forehead.

“She lose blood?”

“Not much.” Alfred informed. Jason’s knees almost gave out from relief. “I’ve finished bandaging her wound, but I’m putting her on strict bed rest for a week. Until I know more about her healing patterns.”

“Oh yeah, that’ll be fun for all of us.” Jason muttered.

YN would not take kindly to being told to sit out on her newly acquired taste of freedom. Even if it was to heal an injury.

Jason approached the door, his hand on the handle.

“Master Jason,” Alfred interrupted, drawing his attention back to the elder butler. His face as solemn as ever, the same gleam to his eyes as always present. “I would advise keeping the arguments to a minimum. The poor girl was just stabbed, I’m sure she wants some rest before the two of you pick it back up?”

“And let her get away with being stupid?” He asked, shaking his head. “No promises, Alfred.”

He opened the door and stepped through.

The blinds and curtains were wide open, allowing as much sunlight as possible to filter through.

That much, he was certain was Yn’s work.

She always seemed to sit in patches of sunlight, like a cat. Relishing in the warmth provided by a star, millions of miles away.

The closest she would let comfort be.

YN sat, sulking on her bed. Hands in her lap, her head turned to stare out of the window. Her lips pursed, face pinched. Blankets over her legs, pooled around waist.

“Jesus, Tails.” Jason grumbled, slamming the door behind himself.

She frowned, her head turned further away from him as he stalked closer.

Without any formalities, he sauntered to her bedside. Using three fingertips, he yanked her shirt up enough to see her side.

“Ow.” She jerked away, slapping at his hand to leave her alone.

Jason resisted her attacks; Though he dropped her shirt, he towered over her body. Glaring down at her.

“Can you maybe not get stabbed while my back is turned?” He asked, gesturing with one hand, down to her injured side.

YN crossed her arms, a pout on her lips.

“I can’t help that.” She croaked, voice harsher than he had expected. “Don’t turn your back, keep an eye on me at all times— I thought that’s why I moved into this godforsaken mansion to begin with and here we are—“

“YN.” He interrupted. She faltered, wide eyes focused on his face. “Shut. Up. You panicked, again.”

Like a child scorned, she bit down on her lip, eyes cast into her lap. She seemed to be retreating into herself.

“Sorry.” YN apologized, softly.

Jason’s hand pushed through his hair. Hesitating, debating whether he would be welcome into her little world she seemed to have retreated into.

He sat down on the mattress, his weight only halfway secured. When she didn’t curl further into herself, he settled more.

He had to wonder, what it was like in her childhood. Having been brought up an instrument of pain. Of terror.

What happened when she failed?

What made her panic every single time she was forced to make a decision?

He didn’t know if the answers were better than the questions.

Jason reached out, carefully. His fingertips lightly brushing her arm before falling to the sheets beside her thigh.

“It’s okay here; You can panic here.” Jason consoled.

Yn’s eyes met his, still watery from pain and tired from her exhaustion and whatever Alfred had prescribed.

“I didn’t freeze up, out there.” She clarified.

Jason smiled, no teeth showing— he didn’t doubt that. YN never froze, exactly. She just… rushed in.

“But you made reckless decisions when shit hit the fan.” He explained, nodding down to her injury. YN’s frown returned, as did her avoidance of eye contact. “It’s something you can learn to control, you can use it to your advantage. Your fight or flight will kick in, but you have to wait it out. Identify what can help you and not just jump to the first thing that comes to mind.”

YN sank deeper into the mattress. She supposed he had some semblance of what her thought process was. Bruce had told her stories of a younger, much less experienced Jason.

One who rushed, far too often; One who fought too hard to prove himself.

Who disobeyed orders and followed his straying emotions to his own death.

A boy who had poured his soul into being who he was today.

She couldn’t compete with that. She had been led around on a leash— aimed her weapon at whom ever stood before her. Unquestioning.

It was why she was doubting herself now, wasn’t it?

YN winced, pulling her knees to her chest. Wrapping her arms around her legs, hugging the solidness against her body. Grounding herself from the spiral she had been caught in one too many times before.

“You think I can?” She asked, her lip half quirked into a smile. It didn’t stick for long; Just enough to flash at him before she buried her face in her arms.

Curling tighter.

Closing herself off.

“Stop doubting yourself.” Jason scooted closer, tilting his head to catch her gaze. “I don’t know what you’ve been told before us, but people can change. They do, all the time.”

“You have a lot of faith in me.” She decided, her eyes meeting his.

Because you don’t seem to have any, he wanted to grab her, shake her, scream at her. Jason had to have faith in her, because he was carrying enough for the whole family.

She had to prove them wrong.

YN could be better.

Because that would mean Jason wasn’t faking. Two data points were always better than a single incident. A lucky mistake.

A fluke.

An accident.

Jason’s tongue kissed his teeth.

He didn’t know what was worse: the skepticism in her tone or the fact that she said it at all.

Sometimes, she was her own worst enemy. Sometimes, she just needed to shut up and stop thinking.

Without warning, Jason swept forward and pressed his lips to hers. YN jumped— startled by his sudden movement. As she jolted back, the kiss disconnected; Not for long, as she surged forward, teeth clashing messily.

She noticed, instantly— his lips were cold. In fact, there was little to no body heat coming from him. His hands that cupped her face were equally chilled.

An unsteady flare burned her chest, her skin grew warmer. Jason’s face burned, his skin warm from the heat emanating from her body. She was so… warm.

God, she was warm. Warmer than her normal, scorching temperature.

This felt cosmic— like he was standing too close to the sun. Tempting the flames to caress his face, burn the oxygen from his lungs.

He broke away, panting, his breath fanning over her lips and his forehead pressed to hers.

His mismatched eyes flickered between hers, analyzing every color and pattern he could. He had rarely found himself that close, or at least, without being harmed.

Even so, she didn’t back away either. Keeping the proximity zero to none; Inhaling each exhale.

“What the fuck was that?” She whispered.

Jason closed his eyes, shaking his head. He knew he had to explain his actions but he didn’t quite trust his voice.

Her fingertips scorched her prints into the skin of his neck. Heat bled onto the edge of his scar— and she could feel his chilled touch, thumb brushing along the raised edge of the scar on her cheek.

“I don’t know.”

YN sighed.

She was actually speechless. His skin felt heavenly against her own— cold, but far from lifeless.

Her eyes closed, eyelashes still wet from her earlier tears of pain and the fit she threw with Alfred’s stitching. The wound that had relatively calmed since her arrival, flared again— every rapid heartbeat sending a fresh wave of dulled, throbbing pain down her side. Washing over her entire body.

But she didn’t regret that. Not now. Not when she had just tasted paradise. From such an unlikely source.

What… the… fuck…

A sudden, stressful knock on the door sent both pairs of eyes flying open. Both parties scrambling away, disconnecting and shattering the strange, uncertain air between them.

“Hey, YN?” Duke called, standing behind the closed door.

YN cleared her throat, busying her hands with the blankets and her own clothes— anything to keep her mind off the walking enigma known as Jason Todd.

“You can come in.” YN answered, her voice nearly level.

Jason was mildly impressed— slightly annoyed— at her ability to act as if nothing had happened. To brush all her vulnerability back under a rug, hide it with a neutral face.

Because his mind had malfunctioned. He felt sluggish and tipsy. Off kilter— his world had just been rocked off its axis by a single kiss. Two pairs of lips brushing together had deconstructed his entire surroundings into 2D minimalist artwork.

Everything had shifted just two degrees.

Just left of normal.

“Jason, hey. I didn’t know you were here.” Duke’s voice was breathless. As though he had run all the way from the city.

“Just leaving.” His voice was hoarse. His face burned as he cleared his throat, cramming all the unidentifiable emotions back down his throat— successfully this time. As they all made it down without getting hung. His eyes flicked to YN. “I’ll be back here in a few hours, Tails.”

YN nodded. Though her mind was flying down the tracks— screaming and crying and, by all means, in full panic mode.

But she was not going to get up and start screaming, without prompt. She was going to act normally until she could think it through.

She could act normal for five minutes until his irritating face left her sight.

How fucking dare he kiss her like that— kiss her at all, really?

Who the fuck did he think he was, and why didn’t she just push him away when it happened?

YN blinked, realizing that she had, one, been glaring at him in silence, and two, he wanted an actual answer. With her words.

Now he was taunting her.

Her skin flushed with another bout of heat, only this time, she recognized it.

Anger.

“Got it. Enjoy your freedom.” YN snipped, folding her hands over her blankets.

Jason tipped his head.

“Enjoy your imprisonment.” He responded, quickly turning to make his hurried exit.

YN clenched her jaw, her hands spreading over the blankets. Smoothing them out. She inhaled deeply before turning her attention back to Duke.

“What’s up with you?” She snapped.

Duke paused. Maybe she wasn’t the best person to ask; She looked extra pissed today. Jason probably had something to do with that— they fought like alley cats on good days.

This seemed to be a bad day.

But he had no one else to ask, at the moment. Other than someone who seemed to be an expert. Or at least, closer to one than any one else of the Manor.

“I might need your help.” He started, hands wringing together. YN lifted a brow, urging him to continue. She might’ve been injured but she didn’t want to sit there all day, listening to his problem. “I have this friend… she had a blood test done last week and found out she has the Metagene.”

This was his problem? Seriously?

“This friend have powers?” YN asked.

Duke thought back to the spark against his palm when he touched the door handle. It could’ve been static, but it had happened every day, at least three times a day, for the past week.

Maybe coincidental.

Maybe abilities.

“No.” He answered, to be on the safe side.

“Then she’s a carrier. Next.”

He blinked.

“Carrier?”

YN scoffed, her eyes piercing through his skull.

She really was in a bad mood today.

“Are you deaf? Carrier. No abilities, you pass it on. What’s the problem?” She snapped.

Duke’s face broke out in a large grin— relief draining down.

He nearly leapt forward to press a thankful kiss to her forehead, until he thought better. Realizing that she was injured, not restrained.

“Absolutely nothing— it is a great day!” He cried, hands on his hips.

YN rolled her eyes.

These people were truly irritating.

“Hey, dickhead,” She interrupted his parade, prepared to rain bombs if she needed. “Being a meta isn’t the worst thing to happen to a person.”

Duke’s smile fell. Guilt stabbed his heart; He didn’t realize that in his celebration, she would be impacted.

He was practically spitting in her face.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” He started, shaking his head. Before he could continue, she scoffed. Her eyes rolling as her head turned away, arms crossing.

Hurt flickered across her features before she covered it with anger.

“Sure.” Her voice was monotone.

Duke pressed his lips together. If he spoke further, she would just become more angry. There was no explaining or apologizing now; She was already stirred up.

She would only lash out and leave both of them hurt.

He turned away, his hand on the doorknob. Stopping for a moment to look back at her.

“Thanks, YN.” He called.

He opened the door and stepped out, hearing a slightly sarcastic ‘no problem’ behind him.

Roy pocketed his keys, shouldering his door open. Jason ambled in behind him, his eyes already bleary. Limbs jelly.

He had nearly broken into the apartment hours prior, jimmying the window and sliding in. He crashed on the couch when he heard very loud, very abrasive singing from the shower.

The first of him that Roy saw was Jason’s ass— as he lay face down into the cushions. The last of his vodka sat on the coffee table beside him.

So after prying his friend from the couch, and putting pants on, Roy downed the rest of the alcohol and then dragged Jason out on the town.

In search of the nearest liquor store.

Which was where they were returning from.

Roy tossed his keys, missing them completely as they came back down, but left them on the floor. He was much more interested in the bag he carried in his arms.

He put it down on the kitchen table, rubbing his palms together eagerly. Jason had stumbled after him, picking up the keys and turning the lights on.

Roy pushed a bottle of something into his chest, before rifling through the bag again.

Jason cracked it open and downed a large gulp, without thinking. He winced at the tingle in his throat.

“What the fuck is in this, gasoline?” He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

Roy’s eyes rolled, head tilting to glance over his shoulder. His hands stalled, glass bottles clinking together in the brown bag.

“You wanted liquor. Mkay? L-I-K….” His eyebrows furrowed, mouthing the letters again. “That’s not right. Liq… liquor.” He shook his head, the thoughts leaving like an etch-a-sketch. Just like that, his brain was blank again. “You wanted to get fucked up. This is the fastest solution.”

“I didn’t want to sear off my tastebuds.” Jason complained.

He thrust the bottle back into Roy’s chest, forcing him to take it. He ambled over to the cabinets, rummaging through the various cups and mugs for shot glasses.

“That’s the sacrifice you make, my friend.” Roy responded, crumpling the bag up. He was definitely feeling the effects of their pregaming; He blinked heavily, trying to clear his bleary eyes. “You never drink, anyhow. What’s the problem?”

Jason groaned, snatching the glasses and leaning his forehead against the door.

Flashes of heat filled his memory, coals being raked across his flesh.

A shiver ran down his spine— he could feel the press of her lips to his. The warmth. The eager reciprocation. His hands on her.

He shouldn’t have run out like that. He should’ve stayed and talked through it all. It wasn’t fair to her.

He squeezed his eyes shut, grinding his teeth. No. No, he did the right thing. He needed to leave right when he did. If he had stayed, he would’ve become a jerk.

He would’ve snapped at her, retreated into himself. Protected himself. And she would’ve gotten pissed and it would’ve ended in a fight.

They always fight.

So why did it feel so good?

“My fucking life is the problem, man.” Jason whispered, his eyes cracking open again.

Roy paused, his mind sobering.

“Jason,” He spoke softly, steadily. He swallowed, teeth running over his bottom lip. “If it’s this again, we’re getting you help, this time. I’m not letting you go through this alone.”

Jason turned, taking in his friend’s stance. The tenseness in his shoulders.

Roy thought…

He left the glasses on the counter, hand extended to his friend.

“No, it’s… no.” Jason stumbled as he stepped forward, a wave of vertigo smashing into his head. He pressed his hand against the sink instead and shifted his weight into the counter. Then, he sank down to sit on the floor, pressed to the cabinets. He pushed his palms into his eye sockets until he saw stars. “I just, I don’t know where my head is at. Every decision I’ve made these past few days have been clouded. The whole situation with YN and Bruce. My family.”

Roy exhaled, blinking away his watery eyes.

He leaned across, snatching the glasses and two bottles before sinking to the floor across from Jason. The steel toes of Jason’s boots pressed into his tibia.

“What’s going on, man?” He asked, settling into place. He cracked the lids of the bottles, pouring up two shots and tapping Jason’s leg.

Jason looked up, seeing Roy knock his first shot back. He accepted the other glass, letting it slide easily down his throat.

He exhaled sharply, allowing Roy to refill the glass. He shot it back before brushing a hand through his hair.

“It’s all just… jumbled up at this point. I don’t know anymore.” He complained, gratefully accepting his next shot.

“Start at the top. What’s eating you the most?”

Jason stared into his empty glass.

That was the problem: everything was. Bruce and Dick, YN. Alfred’s cryptic glances when he asked where YN was. Tim’s doubtful looks on both of them. Cassandra’s extremely concerning, ever growing bond between her and YN.

Because one of them loved to light things on fire, the other could do it with her body.

He didn’t know what was bugging him the most because everything was bugging him. All of it at the same time.

So he spilled.

Everything.

Anything he could think of came tumbling out of his mouth, crashing into the still air of Roy’s kitchen.

The more Jason spoke, the more Roy understood why he wanted to drink tonight. He couldn’t trust himself to tell it sober, so he was forcing his own hand. Talking everything out, speaking it out loud. Forcing himself to come to terms with his situation.

So Roy let him keep talking, and kept pouring drinks.

“And I don’t even blame Bruce anymore, that’s the fucked up thing about this.” Jason spat, infuriated by his torn apart mind. All the narratives he had listened to and choices he made, a toxic concoction of confusion. “I want to be angry at him, at all of them. But they make it so hard to stay angry.”

The redhead hummed in sympathy, a soft grunt escaping him when he shuffled to sit beside the rambling drunk in his kitchen. He settled in, back pressed to the cabinet, shoulder pressed to shoulder. Their extended legs nearly touching, Roy’s wiggling, shoeless foot tapped rhythmically against Jason’s boot mindlessly.

“And YN scares me. I don’t admit it to her, but she scares me. She’s powerful, and she can control the abilities but she can’t control herself.” He slammed his fist into his knee, pounding it like a gavel. Declaring his judgement over this enigma of his mind. “But it’s not even her abilities— it’s her. She is this… giant, fucking problem. It was one after the other and, granted I may have caused a few of those problems, but it’s just… it’s like trouble knows how to find her. She’s a divining rod. And she always lets it get to her. And dammit, she drives me insane; With her— with her, cocky arrogance and her absolute need to be right all the time. And this childlike sense of right and wrong, it’s like she’s not even empathizing.”

“Oh, shit.” Roy tilted, nearly falling over as he grabbed for the runaway cap.

He let it roll across the room— he didn’t need it anyway, the bottle was empty.

“And what’s worse: Dick is on her tail. He’s dogging her about being this hero and saving the world, when she doesn’t even conceptualice being her. She’s never lived.” Jason exhaled, tongue running along the inside of his teeth. His palms lay flat on his kneecaps, wiping sweat onto the fabric of his pants. “And that’s wrong. It’s not fair; To pull her from one fight to the next.”

He released an exasperated breath, marking the end of his tirade.

His chest didn’t feel as tight, he supposed that was some relief. He didn’t feel as constricted, as trapped. That had been the original purpose of the whole night.

But now he was hijacked. His mind replaying the moment. The moment he decided to let his body take control, instead of his mind.

And the first thing it did was press itself to her. Cradled her closely, as if it was possible of softness.

How long had this been going unnoticed— unsupervised? How long had he been suppressing his body’s thoughts, his heart’s thoughts? All in favor of keeping everything under his mind’s control.

In favor of keeping his control.

“I think….” Jason paused, his thoughts muddy. All he knew, for certain, was the feelings that pooled in his chest. Right beneath his sternum, sloshing against his heart. “Roy, I think I love her.”

The red head hiccuped, his brow furrowing.

“Who?” He asked, head tilting against the cabinet to look at his friend.

He squinted, zoning in on a single Jason— because he was seeing multiple.

Jason ignored his drunken stupor, and kept going. Unable to stop himself from regurgitating all the thoughts and feeling he had kept pinned, like a moth to a cork board.

All of it piling on top of each other for weeks— months.

Every time he thought back to a moment in time with YN, he could feel every tilt in the relationship. Pushing it toward the present.

God, he had been so blind.

“For these past few weeks it’s been like this weird… tingle in my chest and my palms get all sweaty. And I thought it was a heart attack or something,” Jason admitted, voice thick with Gothamite drawl.

“My grandpa had a stroke once.”

Jason buried his head in his hands, pressing the backs onto his knees.

“God, what am I supposed to do?” He moaned, voice muffled by his own legs.

Roy grunted, pushing himself onto his knees and flopping directly in front of Jason. He put his hands on his friend’s shoulders and pushed him back, where he could see his face.

“Tell you what we’re gonna do,” Roy slurred, his eyes glassy. “We are getting in your car and going to BurgerBats and getting those shitty little kids meals.”

Jason blinked, heavily.

Had they even been having the same conversation?

Even though, he couldn’t deny that his stomach felt empty. His chest felt full enough for his whole body— bursting at the seams. Waiting for him to explode.

“First, we can’t drive.” Jason reasoned. Roy hummed, disappointedly.

“You’re right, I never even passed my drivers test.” Roy grouched, hands falling from Jason’s shoulders. He settled in at his feet, sliding off his knees and onto his ass.

“Second, it’s BatBurger, you dumb idiot.” Jason scolded, leaning back into the cabinet. Lips pouted, he had already started sulking.

“Hell, what do I know?” Roy exhaled, leaning against Jason’s knees. They sat together in the silence, a comforting, drunken silence, steeped in camaraderie. Roy blinked, his brain reeling to catch up from minutes of words being spoken at him. “You love her?”

The quiet of the kitchen wasn’t oppressive or even passive.

More contemplative.

More troubled. Confounded; They sat, stewing in Jason’s contempt. The faintest taste of happiness in his mouth, on his tongue.

“At the very least.” He confirmed. He exhaled shakily. “I kissed her, Roy. I didn’t even think about it. I was just so relieved to see her alive that I… I just went for it.”

Roy propped his chin on top of Jason’s knees, peering up at him through his lashes.

Jason wasn’t the Casanova of the family— by any means. He didn’t kiss anyone, barely even acknowledged someone’s presence.

There had always been too much on his mind for it to think of women. Well, his exception of Wonder Woman, but that was more of a childhood fascination than anything.

“She burn you or somethin?” He asked, peeking at his forearms in search of any markings.

Jason shook his head, his eyelids drooping lower. He had nearly exhausted himself, and the hard, cool tile of Roy’s kitchen was becoming increasingly appealing.

“She’s warm. Really, really warm. It felt like kissing one of Alfred’s cookies when they’re fresh.” He divulged. His hands held out in front of him, palms caressing her invisible body between them.

“Damn.” Roy slumped more weight against Jason’s legs. He cast a side eye glance to his friend. “D’you make out with cookies when we aren’t watching?”

Jason sighed, cracking one eye open.

“I wish I could kill you.” He teased.

Roy grinned, a doped up, full teeth smile.

“That’s suicide, Jaybird.” He warned. Jason’s brow crinkled in confusion. Roy only shrugged.

Jason pressed his palm to Roy’s forehead and pushed backward, sending him flat on his back.

It was silent for a moment before the redhead burst out into a barrage of giggles, his hands falling to rest on his shaking belly. Face turning various shades of red as he ran out of air.

Jason tilted his head back again, a smile pulling his own lips back.

#enemy fire #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x f!reader

91 notes · View notes