#Jason used to hum that one song nonstop

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Jason hacks into Bruce’s comm when it becomes apparent that he cannot be trusted to keep his birds safe.

Whenever either Tim or Dick are in danger and Batman is nowhere in sight, Jason switches on his side of the audio line to provide mildly ominous commentary.

Bruce is sure his dead kid is haunting him.

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 4 (Jason Todd x Reader)

Jason’s perspective! I’m enjoying this series. you guys have no idea how much it means to me when you enjoy reading them as well, since writing it makes me so happy.

WORDS: 6395 WARNINGS: EVEN MORE FLUFF AND HAPPINESS :’)

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Jason used to dread hearing you scream, needlessly at either him or some unsuspecting person who got too much in your way.

He used to hate the sound of your voice. You were nice to look at, sure. But the moment you spoke? It was like driving the tips of cleaver knives down his ear drums and would go all the way through his head and neck. That shrill screaming at the back of your throat, mixed with the horrible things you said would’ve driven him insane if he didn’t manage to shut you up every so often. It helps not to be so afraid of you. He was the few people who’s actually had the last word in an argument against Y/N.

But now?

But now?

Every word you said, no matter what it was, no matter how insulting or offensive or unnecessary or condescending,

It was like the firmest, knowing fingers tapping lightly into piano keys, each one a step into making a low, steady melody. A remnant of when you sang. Sometimes, at the end of your sentences, he could pick out the notes and he’d pretend you were singing them.

At times, Jason would get lucky and catch you humming. He’d know the songs. But even when he didn’t, he’d stay back and listen. He’d stop everything he was doing just to hear you. Another two weeks had passed since that incident in the library, and since then, the sound of your voice, it had never been the same.

He still couldn’t stand you sometimes. You were a pain no matter what. But it was less often at that point. Your voice made up for it.

Like now, when he was sitting across you on the table. Ms. Peterson asked you both to write the return dates of the books in the cart on a notebook. You worked separately, both of you wearing earphones to drown out anyone who might come to you and ask for directions. It was his idea. He told you listening to music while working would help him focus and that you should do the same.

Paperwork was a bore. And the old woman who refused to use her computer for anything else other than solitaire demanded you wrote them down in notebooks. His wrist was going to hurt in just a few more minutes, and usually, by this time, you’d be complaining nonstop.

But you weren’t. You were silent that day, like the work you were doing actually interested you instead of the usual repulsion. Your hand was gripping tightly onto your pen and your handwriting didn’t look like it was rushed or bothered. Your eyes looked focused, and you had that look on your face when you were mostly relaxed but your mind kept hold onto whatever was in front of you. The same look when you were reading, or when you used the time you had in the library to study for an upcoming test.

Jason looked up from his notebook and momentarily stopped his hand. His eyes relaxed onto you, watching your eyes following your hand on the paper, with your other hand on the book to hold the cover open. Your hair was tied lightly behind your back, and you didn’t take a minute to take notice of him. The song he was listening, it was soft and mellow. It matched the calmness that traced your face. Your mouth started to move, little movements, every so often.

His little plan worked, getting you to listen to music while you wrote. Then you wouldn’t have enough consciousness to notice you were moving your lips to the song. Moving so silently, a stealthy flick of his fingers, Jason took out his phone, the new one that Bruce got him just because his old one had become far too insufferable to use, and paused his music.

You really didn’t notice. But he listened to you intently, pretending to listen to his own music when he was leaning in to hear the lightness of your voice. Humming, softly, and a bit of your actual voice peering out your closed lips. He knew that song. Video Games by Lana del Ray. He noticed you listened to her albums, especially since you had a similar voice as hers. You sung a few of the words in the chorus, then went back to humming. No one else would’ve heard it, and you most probably thought no one heard you, too. The closest one to you was Jason, and he was still listening to his own music. Or so you thought.

Jason didn’t bother holding back a smile, and he looked like an idiot grinning while writing into the notebook, looking at boring covers and taking down the dates. This was the most he’s heard you since sing since that night, and you weren’t even fully singing. Your beautiful voice managed to peek through, still. And he felt something in him lighten, fluttering, the heaviness in his chest thrown out the window almost instantaneously. You had the voice that would lull him to sleep, or the kind he’d listen to when he needed something to rid his mind of a violent cyclone. It didn’t show through much in your momentous hums. But that night, there was a deep soul in your voice. A soul in you. A soul no one would immediately see.

He looked up again to watch your lips move, quirking the corner of his own mouth up. You looked a bit sad, though. And tired. Maybe that was why you weren’t so angry today. He’d taken advantage of the moment too much and you looked up at him, your eyebrow raised. He managed to look busy at just the right time before you’d question him.

Another half hour passed and neither of you moved. Jason didn’t bother turning his music back up again. You might suddenly sing and he wouldn’t get to hear it.

Clicking the pen and leaning back against the chair, he stretched out his limbs. You closed your own notebook and flexed your fingers from an eventual ache.

“Finally.”

“Elphaba over there probably just wants to give us something to do,” you scoffed. Even your sigh sounded sad.

Jason leaned into the table, while you placed your head on your closed fist to rest your eyes. He looked at Ms. Peterson look silently amused at her computer screen. More solitaire most probably, or whatever game that was on a Windows 7 laptop. She looked up from her desk, eyeing the students at a far away table and shushed them from an elevating conversation.

He suddenly had an idea.

“Y/N.”

“What?” you said in annoyance, keeping your eyes closed.

“Wanna have some fun?”

You looked at him. “How?”

Jason leaned in closer to your face. You never wore cologne, but he could smell your hair. It was lemony sweet. “Get old timer there out of her desk. Just distract her for a few minutes.”

“And what are you gonna do?”

“You’ll see.” He winked. It made you smile a little with your eyebrow raised the way it usually. Sparing no time, Jason stood up from his chair and walked over to the carts beside Ms. Peterson’s desk, pretending to busy himself with the pile of books. Looking to you, you stood up and walked over to Ms. Peterson.

“Hey boss,” you said with the lightest voice you could. She picked up on your fake cheer.

“What do you want now?”

“I’m not here to complain, if that’s what you think.” Your voice went back to normal. “I saw a few kids at the back vaping between in the sciences section.”

Ms. Peterson took out her glasses and covered her wrinkly face with her palm. “These fucking kids. Go tell them off.”

You shrugged. “They won't listen to me.”

She looked at you exactly how you thought she would, without an ounce of belief. And you wouldn’t blame her. Jason might have done a good job at arranging books but when it came to telling nosy kids off from messing around in the hidden shelves, you were just the girl for the job.

Ms. Peterson didn’t question you, though. Standing up and pushing her chair back, she walked out of her desk and you went with her, looking back to Jason with your side eye.

Jason quickly went over to her laptop, since Ms. Peterson didn’t have a phone, and went at it with her browser. Everything was loading awfully slow, but thankfully Bruce had told him a few things with quick hacking no matter the system he had to work with. His fingers moving fast, he looked up and saw you emerging from the shelves.

“I’m giving you three days-worth of notes to rewrite, girl.”

“Great. Maybe then you’d give us something necessary to do.”

The old woman pointed her finger at you. “Quit your fucking whining and get back to work.”

You squinted your eyes and mocked her expression, folding your arms. Jason had left the desk and was walking towards you, passing by Ms. Peterson.

“Come on.”

“What did you do?”

He was grinning from ear to ear, and there was a buzz in your skin when he suddenly rushed to the shelf, pulling on your elbow to hide you behind with him. You both peered through the empty spaces of the books and watched at Ms. Peterson took her seat, going back to her game.

“What is going on-“

“Shh.” He held you back. “Wait for it.”

“YOOOOO I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT, SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT. I’LL TELL YOU WHAT I WANT, WHAT I REALLY REALLY WANT, SO TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT, WHAT YOU REALLY REALLY WANT.”

Everyone’s backs shot up and everyone’s heads suddenly turned to the librarian’s desk.

Her laptop speakers, which were usually quieter than whispers, started to recklessly blare out ‘Wannabe’ from the Spice Girls, the walls almost vibrating at the intense volume all across the entire library. Ms. Peterson never looked so horrified in her life, pressing whatever button she can and looking hopelessly into whatever window was open in her tabs. Nothing made the song stop.

You and Jason burst out laughing behind the shelf, you lightly slapping his shoulder and even falling to the ground when you couldn’t take it anymore. Jason leaned against the shelf, holding onto his stomach, while his laughter filled the spaces between the words of the song. You leaned against the opposite shelf, watching him laugh along with you when you managed to open your eyes. Your stomach started to hurt.

You’ve probably never laughed so much in your life.

“Did you-“ he wheezed. “Did you see her face-“

“She looked MORTIFIED!” you laughed again, bending over your stomach to ease the pain. The song stopped and you’ve been laughing throughout the entire three minutes of the song. You simmered down, but your grins never left your faces and you laid against the shelf, still looking at Jason doing the same and calming himself with you.

Biting your lips, you waited for the inevitable.

“YOU TWO. GET OVER HERE.” Ms. Peterson stomped her foot and pointed at you both. Your smiles still hadn’t left even when the old woman had taken you to the Vice Principal’s office, with her ragefully explaining what had happened.

It was so worth it.

Vice Principal Watson looked like she had a storm of a headache, especially when she caught your eye and knew you hadn’t had a smidge of regret from what you’d just done. Jason stepped in eventually.

“It was my idea,” he said. And you looked at him rolling your eyes.

“But she was an accomplice,” the Vice Principal sighed and took out her phone. “I’m going to make some calls. Y/N. Jason. Wait outside.”

Ms. Peterson stared knives into your guts when she stormed out the room. You looked back with your shameful, mocking expression and Jason sat beside you in the waiting area.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he said, though there was still remnants of his smile. “Dragged you into more trouble.”

“Are you kidding? That was one of the best things we’ve pulled out of the last four weeks!” You laid your head back and watched the ceiling. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while.”

He bent over to rest his elbows on his knees. “I wonder what they’ll do to us now.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve done worse. They won't give you a suspension. Especially since, you know, you’ve got the highest GPA in practically the whole school. And what they won't do to you, they can't do to me. I should drag you into my troubles more often to cushion my punishments.”

He quired up an eyebrow and shamefully laughed, cheeks flushing. “I don’t have the highest GPA.”

“I think you do,” you said. “You know. For a dickhead.”

Jason rolled his eyes and looked the other way. Just a few minutes after, the Vice Principal called you back in.

“Well,” she let out a long sigh. “At least you two are getting along.”

You shrugged.

“I’ve made calls to your parents. And though Mr. Wayne was a bit more reluctant, telling me to let you both out by 6 pm instead of 7 since you, Jason, have something important to deal with for the night, I’m giving you both the task to mop up the gym floors.”

“Fuck,” you cursed.

Jason bit both his lips. They had that thing in Bludhaven to take care of with Dick for the night. He wasn’t even supposed to stay too late with library work anymore, since he was coming home even later than usual, delaying their patrols.

“Ms. Y/N, language. You’re both dismissed. Finish things up in the library until 4:30 then you’re both to be at the gym right after. The cleaning materials will be waiting for you by then.”

“Whatever.” Storming out the office with Jason following behind, you both made your way back to the library.

“Well. At least it wasn’t suspension.”

You didn’t look mad. “I don’t really care. I’m just happy I don’t have to go home so early.”

Jason studied your face. Your nostrils weren’t flared. You weren’t glaring at anything. Your eyes were focused forward and you didn’t look at anyone with any hostility. “You okay?”

Stepping into the library, with a cart full of books waiting for you by an angry librarian’s desk, Jason heard you sigh.

“My dad’s back,” you said. “Just when he’d left for a week. I thought that was for good.”

Jason took the cart, and you held onto the metal in front of it to lead the way. Instinctively, you stopped at a shelf and started to arrange the books, with Jason holding onto them to make space while you placed between the spaces. He could smell your hair again from here.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m so sick of walking to school, but hey. Anything’s better than listening to that asshat go on and on about how much I screwed up going home so late every time.”

He licked his lips. You sometimes had these episodes. And he learned it was better to just listen. You didn’t need to be told how to make yourself feel better. It was rare enough for you to actually talk about it at all. The best thing he could do was to keep his silence.

You both turned the cart over to the shelves deeper down the aisle. That shelf. The shelf you knew what to expect with. There was a shelf where people tend to smoke in, a shelf where kids vaped on the floor, a shelf where people slept,

And a shelf where couples go to make out on. Or worse. Do it. Jason’s been scarred with his own past, but nothing’s worse than walking in on two people on the verge of that. You and Jason called that shelf the Boner Aisle. Coincidentally, the romance novels were being placed there.

And when you both turned the cart to the corner, you caught two kids heavily making out without even noticing you’d come.

“HEY! DIPSHITS!”

There it was. The shrill scream that made him flinch and shut his eyes just a bit.

“TAKE YOUR HORNY BUSINESS ELSEWHERE BEFORE I MAKE AN ORNAMENT OUT OF HIS DICK.”

Jason was pursing his lips, not agreeing with her but not disagreeing either. He looked elsewhere at the shelves, avoiding eye contact with the poor couple staring horrified at you.

“NOW.”

They scrambled out the aisle before you could say anything else. Your glare would’ve been enough to drive them out. Your eyes were so wideset that everyone who turned their heads at you immediately looked away before you’d see them.

“Well,” Jason pushed the cart into the aisle. “At least they’re gone.”

“This is the third fucking time I drove those humping chihuahuas out of here.”

“That was a different couple. Each time you scream at them they never actually come back.”

You clenched your jaw. “Good.” You went back to arranging and Jason just couldn’t help but pinch your chin. You scoffed at him, annoyed, but he saw that slight quirk up the corner of your mouth and that light roll of your eyes that had more amusement than actual annoyance.

There weren’t many books for you to arrange, and the last one left was another Braille book that was to be placed all the way up higher than the top most shelf against the wall.

“Dammit,” Jason stood on his tiptoes, reaching his arm all the way up and still couldn’t reach the top. You glanced at his stomach peeking under his shirt. “I can't reach it.”

“Should we get a chair or something?”

“Nah. I’ll give you a boost. Just put it up there.”

He had that devious little smirk. You looked at him, teeth gritting and your eyes squinting at his expression. “Excuse me?”

“Come on. I’ll lift you. I can take it.”

Scoffing, he gave you the book and walked over behind you. “TODD.”

Not even giving you the time to react, he held onto your hips and lifted you off the ground so suddenly and swiftly, his hands gripping tightly onto you like you weighed half of what you actually are. You kicked your legs in the air, letting out a light, playful shriek mixed with laughter, then placed the book onto the top shelf with ease. His fingers lightly touched your skin when your sweater rode up, and it made you chuckle again.

Jason was smiling as well when he placed you back on the ground, his hands lingering on you for the shortest, needless while before pulling away. You turned around, arms crossed with your face muscles trying desperately not to make your grin so wide. But it failed. You smiled at him while lightly shaking your head, leaning your back against the shelf with Jason right in front of you.

“You think that’s funny?”

“It was hilarious,” his teeth showed and his cheeks started to hurt. It didn’t help with the hindrance of your own.

“Do that again, and I’ll skin your arms like a new phone’s plastic cover.”

“Oh,” he placed his hand on his chest. “I’m terrified.”

“You should be.”

He stepped closer. “Should I really?”

“Yeah.” Jason placed his hand right beside your face and stepped closer to you. You had that usual snarl at each other since the first day you met. But each day, smiles came along with them as well. “I’m still not afraid of you.”

“Don’t worry. It’ll come.”

He could really smell your hair from here. Jason shamelessly neared his face to yours, glancing at your lips, catching your eyes glancing at his. “You done gawking?” you whispered.

“Cute.” He scrunched his nose, which made you smile again. It wasn’t awkward at all.

“You trying to intimidate me, Todd? ‘Cuz it’s not working.”

“I think it is.”

“No. I don’t feel intimidated at all,” you smirked, and he squinted at you playfully. You both stared at each other’s eyes, before you heard the worst possible voice you could, the only one that contest your scream.

“IT’S 4:30, YOU BRATS. GET TO WORK.”

Ms. Peterson held out two mops, with a bucket on wheels beside her.

Not long after you found yourselves holding old, greasy mops, swiping along the dirt floors of the gym basketball court.

“Well, this is exactly how I imagined I spend my Friday night.”

He was working with a few feet in front of you. Jason worked with the mop with more ease, since he was stronger. You had a bit more trouble, on the other hand.

“FUCK YOU, PETERSON,” you yelled at nothing.

Only one light above the gym floor was shining at you both, giving you a dim, orange ambiance to an already dark hall. Your back was certainly going to hurt after this.

“You’re swiping at the wrong direction, Todd.”

“No, you are.”

“Look,” you swiped the mop in a clean stroke up and down. “Like this. You’re cutting way too many corners.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve never in my life MOPPED A GYM.”

“Well,” you shrugged. “I’ve had this punishment before. So I’d listen to me if I were you.”

“Listening to you would be like signing my own death sentence.”

“Jackass. DON’T MOP THERE.” You went over and held his mop. “YOU IDIOT.”

He violently grunted. “This is worse than being stuck in a library with you all night.”

“BLAH BLAH WHINY ASS SHUT UP.”

“GOD, YOU'RE-“

Jason made a gesture like he was going to choke you with his bare hands. You squished your face playfully. Four weeks with him, the arguments none stop, and it only came more naturally than it had the first time.

You were only a quarter down the court, and it was getting dark outside. “How many times have you mopped this gym?”

“Twice. Thrice, maybe,” you scaled the outside of the lines. “You’ve never done this before?”

“I’ve only been in trouble a couple of times.”

“From what? Fist fights?”

“Yeah,” he said. He wiped his sweaty forehead and black hair with the collar of his shirt and let it ride up his stomach. “This might have been the last straw before it actually starts to affect my grades. I’d never let that happen.”

You guffawed. “You're a nerd, you know that?”

“At least I’m not a regular at the Vice Principal’s office like you. What’d you do the last time they made you clean the gym?”

“Are you sure you wanna know?”

Jason looked at you take off your sweater, setting it on the railing beside you as you wiped off your own sweat. “Shoot.”

“I tore a guy’s book in half. With my scissors.”

“You fucking love those scissors, don’t you?” he didn’t sound surprised. You laughed and let your hair fall to your now bare shoulders. “Most of my offenses include them. They’re my weapon of choice,” you said. “Tell me about your fist fights.”

You were almost halfway done to the other end. “They were all with Brandon. I really fucking hate that guy.”

“What did he ever do to you, anyway?”

He looked up and around the gym. You were alone, he knew that, but he just wanted to make sure. “Swear you won't tell?”

“Who am I supposed to tell on, asshat?”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “When I moved here two years ago, the coach wanted me on the team.”

“Oh my God,” your mouth dropped to the ground. “You're serious.”

“Fuck yeah I am,” he said, standing up and opening his arms wide. “You ever seen this bod?”

You let out a disgusted gag and rolled your eyes all over the ceiling, turning your head so he wouldn’t see the rest of your face. “Whatever.”

“Anyway. Brandon wanted to try out, too. But they could only have one more guy in. Coach signed me in first, but after talking to Bruce, I declined.”

“Why?”

He didn’t look up from his mop. “I have other things to focus on. I wasn’t exactly interested in the sport and Bruce didn’t want practices to interfere with the training I already have at home.”

“Training?”

Shit. Was that too much information?

“Uhm. Yeah. Bruce made me learn martial arts. I have an entire workout regimen at home and everything.”

You looked at him puzzled. But you bought it. Thankfully. “Brandon must’ve hated that.”

“Yeah. Coach wouldn’t let him hear the end of it. Said I would’ve done a better job at linebacking than he ever would. He took it personally, of course. Then he’d just come up to me randomly and scream shit into my ear.”

“Wow. I almost feel sorry for doing the same.”

He grinned. “He found out I used to be a street kid and that I dropped out at 5th grade. It’s all he ever talks about.”

You stopped with your mopping. This wasn’t exactly your forte. Talking and making people feel better? You’d do better if you stayed silent. Jason didn’t mind. He didn’t want you to say anything either. “Shit.”

“Whatever. Jokes on him.”

“He’s got a new nose and everything. Your training really paid off.”

Jason bowed proudly. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Don’t you even get used to it,” you sneered and pointed the end of the mop at him.

A quarter of the court left. You set the mop aside, leaning against the railing. Jason went out to buy water from the vending machine nearby, and you waited. He came back with a bottle in his hand. “They had one left.”

“You're kidding,” you snarled, leaning your head back. “I wanna drink.”

“Beg.” He held up the bottle from your reach, knowing full well you’d never win against that.

“Jason, I will drown you in your own piss.”

He clicked the bottle open and started to gulp down its contents. You reached up, pulling down his much larger arm that wouldn’t budge, but he kept on drinking and holding you by the shoulder so you couldn’t get near him. Screaming like a bird, you kicked his shin, which made him choke on his bottle and let you finally snatch it from his hands. More than half of it left.

“Thank you.” You sneered at him and started to drink.

He watched you, then, with you unsuspecting, he tipped the bottle over to let you choke on the pouring liquid. You spat out the water and dropped the almost empty bottle with your shirt drenched. “YOU FUCKER.”

He was laughing uncontrollably and started backing away when you took your mop, pointing the wet side at him and started to chase him down the gym.

“Y/N, DON’T YOU DARE.”

“I FUCKING WILL.”

You held out the end of the mop at him, running down the floor which you’d just mopped no matter how heavy it was on your straining arms. He didn’t even run. Jason was sprinting backwards, making faces at you and you growled and chased him around.

You managed to tap the wet end of the mop on his hip. “HA.”

“THAT WAS DISGUSTING.”

“YOU DESERVE IT.”

You almost slipped from the wet floor, but managed to keep your balance. Jason laughed out loud and took it as a chance to grab the mop from your hand and throw it across the room. “ASSHOLE.”

“TRY TO GET ME NOW.”

He kept running around, and you helplessly trying to catch up to him with your legs weakening and your arms so worn out that it ached. But, fuck it all to hell, this was what made sticking around at school late in the afternoon so bearable. Jason’s hair bouncing, some sticking to his forehead, his eyes all crinkled up and your laughter filling the air, you kept running and chasing him around.

You held your arms open, and he did the same, he charged left, then right, with you watching his every move. Jason backed away and started running into the bleachers. You followed right behind him, screaming when your foot almost caught between the seats. He ran all the way up, and when you caught up, raced down by sliding down the railing. There was no way you could catch up.

You ran back to your discarded mop, feeling your hair stick to your skin and you practically swimming in your sweat, you charged back to him again with your mop. “STOP WITH THE FUCKING MOP.”

“NO, I WON'T.”

You chased him, and right when he reached the center of the court, he slipped onto the floor and landed on his ass.

You never laughed so hard in a single day. You stopped running, clutching at your stomach, trailing the mop behind you as you paced to Jason wriggling on the floor, groaning.

“You okay, dipshit?” you laughed.

Jason watched you cover your mouth as your screaming chuckles echoed around the court, seeing you distracted, with your weight leaning into the mop, he moved.

He swiped at your legs, careful not to let you hit your head as you fell, and grabbed the mop from your hands. You screamed indefinitely and he backed away, now with your mop in his hands to protect himself.

You felt pain surge up from your ass, but you brushed it off. Sitting up on your elbows, you cocked your jaw to the side with a fun smirk as you stared straight into Jason’s winning grin. “Terrible things are going to happen to you, Todd.”

“I’d run if I were you.”

Seeing the mop charge for your face, you scrambled off the floor and ran with whatever strength you had left in your limbs. You were sweating and panting off your breath, but you were still laughing so hard that it didn’t matter. Jason chased you around with the mop just like you did.

You were much slower than he is, and the tip of the mop was no joke when he constantly poked at your legs and even your arm. “GROSS.”

“TOLD YOU.”

“GET THAT THING AWAY FROM ME.”

He went on to pick on your arm, which was now drenched in disgusting mop water now and you could smell it. You wanted to barf, but you had to keep running. You almost slipped on the floor again and a loud, skidding sound filled the air.

You got his own mop that he’d set aside, and Jason finally stopped running. Both grinning from ear to ear, you pointed the end of your mop to him, and his to you. Silently, smiling, catching your breaths, you aimed at his arm but he was too quick to move.

Your eyes were even more piercing now that he’s seen you truly being happy.

You managed to hit his leg, drenching his pant leg. Jason squirmed in disgust, then took the end of your mop, pulling it from your hands and throwing it out into the ground. You screamed when he did that and ran for your life.

You went under the bleachers, ducking from the metal poles and beams with him trailing behind you. “YOU CAN'T RUN FROM ME.”

“YES I CAN.”

You turned and hid underneath the dark shades where he couldn’t see you any longer. Jason stopped running, still standing underneath the bleachers, and held onto his mop like it was a weapon. “Where are you, you little shit?”

He stepped out of the bleachers, back out into the court. No movements, nothing he could visibly see.

Silence. Silence. Then his breathing started to slow.

“Y/N?”

Just as he called your name, something climbed onto his back and started pulling on his arms like a large, deranged animal. Jason cried out in surprise, but bent over so you were practically in the air, legs flailing about and your arms tearing at the air trying to get hold of his mop.

“AHHH!” You laughed into his ear, and he kept screaming and running around to get you off of him, but your hold was firm and strong, even with the position so awkward. He pushed the mop further away from his body where you couldn’t reach it. “GIVE ME THAT.”

“NOT A FUCKING CHANCE.”

You kept fidgeting on his back, your laughter never faltering, and his strength allowed him to carry you around even when you desperately tried for the mop. Suddenly, Jason threw the mop onto the floor, and you jumped off of him to run towards it.

But it was his turn to hit him from behind.

“JASON DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE.”

Grabbing your waist, he circled his muscled arms around you, keeping you from running away. Your laughter was through the roof. And his heart never beat so loudly. “JASON GET OFF. NO. NO. NO. JASON AAHHH!”

He lifted you off the ground, your legs flying into the air and your arms struggling to get off his hold. Jason laughed into your ear and you wiggled within his hold, not even remotely having the chance to get off of him. He walked slowly to the center of the court, keeping you steady.

“JASON I WILL KILL YOU WHEN I GET OUT.”

“YOU'RE NOT GETTING OUT.”

“PUT ME DOWN.”

“NO.”

You swung your legs around, throwing your head back to rest it against Jason’s shoulder.

“JASON I SWEAR YOU WON'T HAVE ARMS AFTER THIS.”

“BEG.”

“I’M NOT GONNA FUCKING BEG.”

“THEN I WON'T PUT YOU DOWN.”

“PLEASE PUT ME DOWN, YOU SON OF A BITCH.”

He did put you down, but kept his hold on you so tight, you still struggled to keep off his hold.

Jason found something better to listen to other than your singing, something you weren’t so ashamed to do and something he didn’t have to try so hard to get out. Something not everyone had the privilege to hear, either.

Your laughter.

-----

6:05 pm. It was getting dark outside and the chill ran down your damp skin that smelled of dirt water. With you and Jason heading out the school gates, you put your sweater back on and headed for the sidewalk.

“See you on Monday.”

“You have three days to live,” you glanced back at him and gave your last smidge of laughter for the day. “Enjoy it while you can.”

He mocked your face and turned over to his motorcycle.

Jason couldn’t see the sun anymore, and the lamp posts were starting to light up. Further down, and the posts would stop.

You turned to the corner of the street and placed your hands firmly into your pockets. It was cold when your skin had just been violated by a mop. Your eyes were focused on the cemented sidewalk, and you started for the pedestrian lane. A few minutes and you’d reach the edge of the city, where you’d have to be even more careful at a time like this.

Looking straight forward, your attention was suddenly taken by a buzzing of a motorcycle engine and a boy with a snarky grin on his face.

“Hop on.”

“Leave me alone, Todd.”

“I’ll take you home.”

You kept walking, and his motorcycle followed your pace. “I’m walking.”

“Then I’ll just have to keep following you until you get home.”

“I don’t know what is up with you, dude.” You cocked your jaw at him, then you saw another helmet in his hand.

“Come on. It’s too late for you to walk home. You shouldn’t have to walk every day.”

You finally stopped, looking at both sides of the streets. Jason raised his helmet visor to look at you.

Your smile seemed sad. You weren’t mocking him. You weren’t about to insult him. You smiled, yet your eyes hang low.

Yet, he could see the sadness was just a bit less than it had been when the day started.

“Really?”

“Yes.” He handed you the helmet. “Come on.”

Hesitantly, knowing you weren’t the one to accept favors from just anybody, you gave in. You took the helmet from Jason’s hand and hopped on behind him.

“Hold on tight.”

You grabbed his waist, then he started speeding down the streets to where you usually trailed the sidewalks on foot. He snaked past cars, further down until you were both in the city, the sky dark and the city lights reflecting off your helmets. You leaned in towards him.

You. Of all people. You. The girl who once threw a knife at a classroom wall. The girl who stabbed her lab partner with a scalpel when he accidently spilled frog blood into her coat. The girl who’s made so many people cry, some had to go into therapy.

And you were holding him tight, leaning in to give him your trust.

He felt special. In his own twisted way, he did.

You eventually arrived home. Swinging your leg over the motorcycle, you gave him back the helmet.

“Thanks,” you coughed, scratching the back of your neck and bringing your hands in front of you.

Jason smiled at you, keeping silent as he watched you go up the stairs and into your apartment building. He caught you glancing back and he let the memory of your bright smile burn though his head on the way to the manor.

When he got home, still in a daze, Alfred took the liberty of washing his shirt immediately when he came in smelling like dirt water.

“Master Bruce isn’t happy with you being in so much trouble in school.”

“Tell him to chill. I’m fine.”

“You have twenty minutes to get ready, Master Jason. You leave for Bludhaven in a short while.”

Jason got to his room, and unlocked his new phone.

His heart halted when he saw an unknown number send him a text from ten minutes ago. Jumping into his bed, Jason opened the message.

‘I smell like shit. Thanks a lot, jackass.’

Only you would say something like that after he just saved you thirty minutes of walking home in the cold dark. After all this time, you saved his number after he gave it to you three weeks ago.

‘You’re welcome. It suits you.’

He saved your number with a devil emoji beside your name.

--------

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

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[gobydana]

Hey can you do a batfam x reader fic where she is the new addition. She’s Bruce’s biological daughter and is older then Damian and for most of her life she’s lived in india but because Bruce was her only living relative she had to move and she’s having trouble adjusting. ( no language barrier tho)

A/N: Sorry this took me some time, wanted to make sure I got it right. The reader does not know about family night time activities. Was way longer then I thought it would be. Let me know what you thought!

Y/N got out of the airport to look at the grey landscape. To her, Gotham was dull compared to the vibrant colors she was use to. Living near one of the open markets in India made her miss the colors. Instead rain and grey buildings dotted the intimidating skyline.   

Waiting at the car was her distant Uncle Bruce. Although in this case, she was more the distant one as many didn’t remember her grandfather, the youngest Wayne compared to Thomas. Next to him stood his son Damian. While he was younger, the way he spoke reminded her of older gentle speaking proper. 

She waved hello and got in the back next to Damian and Bruce. Alfred drove them to the manor. Bruce pointed out places in Gotham as they passed. She was use to train as a means of travel. The car was too quite compared to the bustling train stations. 

Truth was she knew little about this side of her family. Her father nor grandfather talked about their American’s family. It wasn’t until her parents passed that she knew about them. Now it was decided in her parent’s will that she would come to live in a strange new country away from the life she loved. She couldn’t believe that someone would just take a child in they barely knew. 

Unfortunately Bruce received some urgent call from work and left his son to introuduce her to the family members and tour the manor. Alfred went to kitchen to work on dinner. Damian scoffed but ushered her to the main room. There stood Cass, Tim, Stephanie, and Duke. They all waved hello and went back to their respected activities. 

She was left alone in the big manor. All of her life she lived in an apartment where she knew all the neighbors. It was a community involvement. So far the residence managed to ignore each other. Damian lead her to her room and then left to work on something else. 

Like everything else in Gotham it was dull. Most the items looked old. While she didn’t have a lot (airplane travel didn’t allow one to carry a lot) she set to work making the room at least look better. Pictures of her family went on the dresser. She made a note to see if there was a local Indian store that could help with decorating. 

Alfred came up to inform her of dinner. He gave the notice that most members of the family were occupied with other work matters, therefore would not make dinner. Instead she sat alone at a giant table eating food too fancy for her liking. 

It turns out work took up most of the families time. It seemed they worked nonstop.  Often Y/N was left alone or with the company of one of Bruce’s many kids. Dick was nice, but most seemed busy. Due to Gotham’s high crime rate, she couldn’t go anywhere without someone. The days of hooping on a train or strolling down to the market was gone. 

One day she was able to convince Jason to take her to the local Indian store and restaurant. She was basically hooping for joy. It was the littlest things that helped the homesickness stay at bay. The whole day she couldn’t help but smile. For lunch she got a giant plate of Hyderabadi biriyani. Later she grabbed some Chaats for the ride home. 

One of her favorite Bollywood movies was there along with some books. The whole way home she talked non stop to Jason about her life back home. He noticed for the first time how happy she was. He made a mental note to talk to the family later. In the meantime, he nodded as she kept talking. 

That night Y/N went to the her room to The Namestake and munch on the candy she had. Jason watched her walk up, humming a song he heard earlier in the store. His phone buzzed as the batkids demanded to know why a family meeting was being called in the cave. Damian was stating it was Tim’s fault already. 

Everyone minus Bruce was complaining as they made their way towards center of the cave. 

“Okay listen up, we have screwed up.” Jason stated. 

Duke raised his hand, “Care to explain more. With this group that can mean anything.” 

“Y/N is homesick and instead of helping her feel welcome, we are so busy and ignoring her. You all know what it’s like to come into this crazy family. Top off with a new country and being in Gotham of all places.” 

“Tt”. Damian replied. “She will get use to it, I did.” 

“You had Dick helping you, she has no one it seems.” Tim remarked. At that Dick nodded his head. 

Normally he is jokingly called the Family Welcomer. This time though, he had been so busy with the Titans, that he too ignored her. It wasn’t fair to Y/N. 

“Besides those in born in Gotham don’t even want to be here.” Tim said. 

“Hey it might be a crime ridden city, but it’s our crime ridden city.” Stephanie shouted. 

Among all the arguing, no one minus Cass noticed Bruce leave the room minus the cowel. He made his way upstairs with a copy of Hera Pheri. It happened to be in his movie collection. He knocked on Y/N’s door. She answered as he held up the movie. Quickly she raced towards the family movie theater while he let out a chuckle. 

The family later found them twenty into the movies. Everyone piled in to join. Soon the whole family was laughing along with the comedy. Bruce made sure to let Y/N know that if there was anything they could do to make her feel less homesick, don’t hesitate to ask. He later asked all the family members to make a point to be around more. 

Soon she found herself feeling less out of her element and more like having a second family. Damian turned out to be an expert at Indian cooking. He wasn’t afaird of the spice and the two would often laugh as some family members couldn’t handle it. Different family members would take her out to explore Gotham. After a year, Bruce even surprised her with a trip to Indian to see all her friends again. 

[harvardforcops]

pepperywisdom: Give👏us👏a👏grayson👏movie👏

freeyukimakoto: RIGHT

and make tiger and dick kiss in it

Set to James Bond music

pepperywisdom: YEs absolutely

Kiss and then Tiger BETRAYS him

but then at the end they’re what? married?

freeyukimakoto: Damian and Bruce vehemently oppose

pepperywisdom: Damian probably thinks that no one is good enough for Dick

Bruce is just like, he tried to kill you? I don’t understand?

even though he REALLY can’t talk

freeyukimakoto: CAN TOU JUST

pepperywisdom: Steph LOVES tiger

ADORES HIM

freeyukimakoto: IMAGINE

THE LOOK ON DICKS FACE IF BRUCE SAID THAT LIKE I JUST IMAGINE TIM IN THE BACKGROUND WILL SMITH POSING TO DAMIANS GENERAL EXISTENCE IN RESPONSE TO THAT

she makes him waffles and he likes them he is a KEEPER

pepperywisdom: Dick just like

Doesn’t even have to say anything to Bruce

He just looks at him

and Bruce starts stammering like

“I know oka Y I know but it’s different because I’m old I mean experience okay I know but like she didn’t kill me and I know tiger didn’t but also I’m your father so what I say goes”

Also I imagine Tiger is slightly scared of Steph

like she’s so tough and exuberant he’s like IT’S ANOTHER DICK GRAYSON. WHY ARE THERE TWO

freeyukimakoto: Sarah

Literally only two people have tamed Damian Wayne

And they're Dick Grayson and Stephanie Brown

Like literally the chosen golden pair

The Same perSON IM DEAD

pepperywisdom: Dick and Steph are both so offended

We are SEPARATE people tiger you should know this WE’RE MARRIED

Imagine Tiger being like

there’s something familiar about Steph?

and he doesn’t realize

Until he sees how terrifying damian who’s been threatening him nonstop since he showed up

immediately like

calms down the moment steph is in the room

the same way he does with dick

and tiger is like wtf the fuck

freeyukimakoto: Steph is externally monologuing while Dick hums HIS made up theme song at the reception and tiger is IN HELL

pepperywisdom: why did he do this. why did he fall in love. why is he such an idiot

Tiger’s vows: I should’ve killed you when I had the chance

Dick: Awwwwwwwww

Bruce: (has a heart attack)

freeyukimakoto: But acTUALLY

Damian is like WAS THAT A THREAT and both Tim and Steph struggle to keep him down

Jason baits the situation

Oh yeah Tiger just wants to...eat golden boy right up ;)

pepperywisdom: Damian fucking breaks his seat

I WILL PROTECT YOU GRAYSON

Dick probably hears him and like, smiles and winks towards where he’s sitting

Damian: That’s a signal! He needs me to help him!

freeyukimakoto: Of course assassins crash the funeral and Damian is convinced it's tigers fault

(It's not, they're taking dick Grayson as a hostage bc some new mob boss wants the wayne fortune)

Tiger is the ransom victim

pepperywisdom: Tiger like

doesn’t even free himself for the longest time

Because he has to go back over his life, his choices

What led him to this? Why is this happening to him?

freeyukimakoto: "It's his butt," Stephanie tells him sympathetically later as they're both nursing drinks at the hotel bar. "Like I love Tim but hooooly shit Dick Grayson's ass. Mmmh." She chews down on her straw as Tiger morosely wonders if he could drown himself in his beer.

pepperywisdom: especially since “it’s my butt” is exactly what dick says when tiger asked him the same question