GOOD Hope He Has A Happy Ending🙏

GOOD hope he has a happy ending🙏

birds of a feather : ground rules

warning/s : suggestive content and smut, minors DNI

OCTOBER 18, 10:32 PM

location— atsumu miya’s car

following the end of your conversation with tobio, you throw your cellphone to the floor, agitated at how it turned out. you don’t know what it is that you were expecting, but definitely not the blatant rejection you faced. if only he would’ve rendered you a chance to explain yourself, maybe you could’ve roped him into hearing an acceptable justification. not that you didn’t try to explain yourself, it seems, you just failed to do a good job at it, or rather, there was no appropriate justification on your end.

the thud resulting from your cellphone hitting the ground makes atsumu turn his neck in the direction of the sound. he notices the cellphone laying on the ground, then turns to look at you and notices the frown stitched into your face.

atsumu puts two and two together and concludes that the conversation between you and tobio didn’t go the way you expected it to. he doesn’t want to implore, but ends up inquiring anyways, “what’s wrong, yn?”

“damn him, that tobio.” you grunt, continuing to complain, “i hate him so much.”

atsumu flicks your forehead, rolling his eyes, “i’m sure you don’t.”

“he’s your best friend, after all.” he stresses on the term as he drags you closer to himself, lifting you to put you on his lap.

he puts his arms around your waist, postulating, “he’ll come around eventually.”

atsumu nuzzles his head between your boobs, and you reflexively begin running your fingers through his hair, grumbling, “he could’ve at least heard me out.”

“some best friend he is.” you hiss, rolling your eyes.

atsumu slaps your back, taunting you, “we could say the same about you.”

“you ditched him for a random guy, after all.” he mentions, raising his head to smirk at you.

you purse your lips, mumbling, “you’re not just some guy, tsumu.” you lift his head to place a quick kiss on his lips. just as you’re about to withdraw, he pulls you in for a second kiss. his brisk hands unzip your dress and lugs away from the kiss, smugly smiling at you as he reaches to remove your hair-clip, allowing your hair to flow down your back.

he runs his hand through your hair, putting his forehead against yours, whispering against your lips, “i really hope i’m not.”

you kiss him on the cheek and descend to leave a trail of your kisses from his cheek right down to his neck. you open up the buttons of his shirt, giving him a hickey underneath his clavicle. you grin at him once you’re done, locking lips with him once again. he pulls away, fingers still meddling with your hair, chuckling, “marking your territory once again, are you?”

he points to the corner of his lip, brandishing the hickey you gave him earlier, before pulling you closer to him. he shifts your hair to the other side, pressing his lips against your neck, leaving a mark, making you groan. he claims, his warm breath condensing against the cold skin of your neck, “you’re mine, kitten.”

“only mine.” he asserts, kissing the blade of your shoulder, leaving another mark against your skin.

you nod, accepting his claim as you pull your body away from his. you rub your thumb against the skin around the corner of his lips, tainted by you, smugly smiling at him as you lock in his gaze, “i thought you didn’t want anything to do with me.”

“i’m just a man.” he shrugs, kissing you on the cheek, then on the neck, followed by your shoulder, confessing, “i’m no fool to deny the touch of a woman like you.”

he drags your sleeves down, pulling the dress off your torso to reveal your brasier. he unlocks the hooks in a moment using a single hand, and rips the garment away from your skin, throwing it on the front seat. it reveals your breast. he slides your dress further down to reveal your abdomen.

he begins by kissing the undersurface of your boobs, then goes on to kiss your nipples, one after the other. the feeling of his soft kisses against your sore spot fires your nerve endings, turning you on, inciting you whimper. he then slides his hand underneath your dress, putting it against the inside of your thigh.

“in the car?” you shoot him a look, wide eyed, “are you insane?”

“shh.” he puts a finger to his lips, demanding no reluctance from your end before he moves his hand upwards along the skin of your thighs, making you ticklish as he approaches the strap of your underwear. he pulls at it, making you flinch when he releases his fingers the elastic recoils against your skin.

he engages his fingers with the strap of your underwear once again, pulling it down to clear his access. he advances his fingers towards your cunt, targeting your clitoris first and foremost. you moan loudly when his fingers run against your sore spot. he repeats the motion of his fingers yet again, demanding you to moan for a second time in row.

atsumu laughs, satisfied as his manoeuvre proves to be fruitful. he inserts his fingers inside your pussy, skilfully moving them around, stimulating you in an attempt to get you to cum. the motion of his fingers inside your cunt irks you to whimper over and over again. you finally cum when he brushes his fingers past your clitoris once again.

he doesn’t stop there. he intends on stimulating you further more. his fingers find themselves hovering around the same spot knowing far to well where your body prefers to be touched by him. he teases you by gently rubbing his fingers against your clit. you whimper, “t-tsumu, more.”

you mumble, huffing as you feel yourself cum and the cum dripping down your legs onto his pants, “p-please, more.”

atsumu laughs, razzing you as he wipes the cum off his pants and paints it on your lower lip, “now lick, kitten.” you don’t follow his order, too stupefied as your hormones are surging and all you want is more of him and the pleasure he has to offer you.

atsumu licks the cum off your lip himself, smirking as he gulps it down, praising you, “my kitten tastes so good.”

he confesses, entwining his fingers with your own, kissing your knuckle, “so glad you’re all mine to take.”

“aren’t you, now?” he drops your hand, questioning as he cups your chin, withholding your gaze, expecting you to answer.

you hum, still dazed, agreeing, “yes, all yours.”

“i’m pleasuring you so well, kitten.” he sneers at you, putting his fingers inside your needy cunt once again, urging you to cum as he glides along your walls and skilfully rolls his fingers inside you.

you cum with his fingers still inside your pussy. your fluid drips down his digits. he pulls his sticky fingers out of your cunt, and then puts them in once again, dictating, “you know you need to pleasure me too.”

“i know i—.” you nod, agreeing with him, but he cuts your words short, taking his fingers out of your pussy and cupping your chin with the same hand that was inside you earlier.

he licks the liquid off his fingers with his hand still on your face, giving you a taste of yourself when he kisses you. the sweet taste of your own mess dissipates on the surface of your tongue. he withdraws, putting his fingers on your clitoris, squeezing the spot, demanding, “kitten, i’m hard now.”

“and you better pleasure me.” he orders, smirking as you whine loudly, cumming once again, dirtying his fingers for a second time.

he withdraws his fingers and forces them in your mouth, letting you have another taste of yourself. you squelch, but you lick the cum off his digits. he stares you in the eyes with a smug look painting his face, while you’re in a complete haze, staring at him blankly as he removes his fingers from your mouth. he kisses you on the lips, appreciating, “you’re a good kitten.”

“now be better and make me cum.” he instructs, squeezing and nibbling at your nipples, coaxing you to whimper in pain and in pleasure.

you nod, accepting his demand of being pleasured by you. he throws you off him and points to his pants gesturing you to unbuckle and take them off. you struggle all over the place trying to unlock his belt and loosen his pants. you final achieve your goal, revealing his large, hard and veiny penis that stares you down, waiting to be put either inside your mouth, or your cunt, whatever seems easier to get into.

atsumu pushes you down, putting pressure on your shoulder as he lays you flat on the car seat. he climbs on top you, ready to insert his dick inside your cunt. he spreads your legs apart, entwines his fingers with your own, and pins your hands on either side of your head, against the car seat. he begins to put his penis inside your vagina, gently sliding it in. you feel his large self scaling your walls as his dick enters your cunt, and you feel it slide outside of you too.

although he’s been inside of you before, but because he’s so big, the feeling of his dick moving inside and outside of you hurts you and pleasures you all the same. he puts his wood inside of your cunt once again, hoping to stimulate your g spot and incite an orgasm on your end.

he continues the motion of his dick, sliding it inside your cunt, then pulling it out of you, and at a certain point, you’re overstimulated, moaning and groaning continuously. while he’s still inside of you, you experience a sexual high, an orgasm incoming, and you cum, tainting his dick. aroused by your neediness, atsumu cums as well, carelessly inside of you.

he takes his dick out of you, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. he gives you a break when he notices his erection is gone and his dick has softened. meanwhile you’re breathless and all over the place, but also overstimulated enough to cum once again. with the liquid dripping down your thighs, he makes an effort to lick it off and clean up for you.

once he’s done, he puts his weight on top of you, resting his head against your breasts squishing them under his weight. he places his hand on your cheek, patting it, praising you, “you were a good girl tonight.”

“i’m hungry.” you mumble as your stomach groans, making atsumu burst out in laughter.

he cracks a joke, “looks like i wasn’t enough for you.”

“clearly not.” you chuckle, joining in his humour, smiling tiredly at his face.

you surmise, gauging the state of the two of you, “we also need a shower.”

“mhm.” atsumu hums, nuzzling his nose between your breasts. he then slides up and kisses you on the lips before getting off you.

he takes a spot at the end of seat, putting on his underwear and his pant. he collects your underwear from the floor of the car and your brasier from the front seat, handing you the pair in order to slide the garments on. you stretch your hand and receive the garments, requesting, “i’m sore, can you pull me up?”

“sure.” he nods as he grabs your hand and drag you off the car seat.

he asks, gesturing at your brasier, remembering you had a hard time putting it on earlier, “need any help?”

you shake your head, signaling that you’d prefer to be aided by him. you turn your back to him, sliding your arms into the straps of your brasier. you collect your hair and tie it into a ponytail, allowing maximum visibility to make the task easier for him. he puts the hooks into their respective eyes, cupping your boobs, kissing your cheek as he teases you, “just making sure they’re secured.”

“you don’t need to.” you take his hands off your breasts, rolling your eyes.

you slide your underwear into position, then pull up your dress into the correct position, turning around once again, requesting, “can you zip it?”

“sure.” atsumu agrees to do it for you, helping you out.

he suggests, nervous hand scratching the back of his neck, unsure if you’ll consent, “you should spend the night at my place.”

“i don’t mean to force you,” he starts blabbering nervously, stuttering around his words, “i mean you can shower then we can have some food and sleep.”

you can’t help but laugh out loud at the nervous mess that he instantly became at the mere thought of inviting you over to his place. you find it ironic because he had no trouble thrusting his dick inside of you not once, not twice, not thrice, but four times so far. but now that he has to invite you to spend the night, he’s getting cold feet. you don’t think it’s embarrassing on his behalf, just comedic.

he isn’t sure what warranted your laugh, but it makes his more nervous, and he continues jabbering, “i don’t have anything fancy at home right now, but we can have some ramen.”

you keep staring at him with an amused expression on your face, letting him prattle and stumble around his multiple suggestions. you’re still in disbelief that this is the same man who has made sexual advances on you on multiple occasions and succeeded in subduing you every single time.

“maybe we watch a movie or two before heading to bed.” he goes on, rephrasing, “no, but a lot warm shower first, of course.”

you kiss him on the lips to shut him up for once and for all. he reciprocates, kissing you back. his hand finds itself dragging your sleeve down once again. but you slap his mischievous arm, halting him, “enough.”

“let’s go to your place already.” you push him off you, leaning toward the back door to open it up so that he can get to the driver’s seat.

“yea, let’s go.” atsumu mutters as jumps out of the back seat. he closes the door behind him, simultaneously opening the door to the front seat. he puts himself into the driver’s position and keys the car in order to get the engine going. he begins driving in the direction of his apartment.

you request, pointing to the stereo, “put on some music. won’t you, tsumu?”

“yes, kitten, whatever you want me to do.” he complies, turning the knob to raise the volume, proceeding to select a radio station at random.

in the backseat, you’re bemused at his choice of music, but before you can retaliate and coerce him to switch stations, your body, extremely sore from all the pleasure seeking tonight, drifts off to sleep almost instantly.

atsumu notices when his terrible choice of music doesn’t incite a response from you and he’s met with dead silence from the back seat. he turns around to check on you, only to find you passed out in your spot, neck hanging in the air without any support.

he pulls his car to the side of the road and gets out of his seat. he opens the back door to position your body such that you lay flat on the backseat in a rather comfortable position, as opposed to your previous one. he jumps back into the driver’s seat and begins driving towards home, reaching out to lower the volume of the stereo, declining the possibility of disturbing you while you’re sleep.

OCTOBER 18, 11:25 PM

location— atsumu’s apartment complex

once you reach atsumu’s apartment complex, he parks the car in his designated spot. he gets off to open the back door and grabs your purse first, sliding it over his arm. he then lifts your body off the seat as subtly as possible, such that you aren’t woken up by his movement. he carries you all the way to his flat, supervising diligently, making sure that any move he makes doesn’t lug you away from your slumber.

standing in front of the door to his apartment, he finds himself in a dilemma, unsure of how to reach for his key in order to open the door. with his hands busy holding you close, the task seems unachievable. left with no option but to disturb you, he whispers into your ear, “you need to wake up, kitten.”

“i’m sorry.” he apologises, kissing your forehead.

when you don’t wake up in the first go, he repeats, whispering into your ear, “come on, kitten.”

“it’s time to wake up.”

you feel his hot breath against your ear drum, forcing you awake. you flutter your eyes open, finding yourself in his arms, quite confused, unsure of the circumstances. after analysing for a moment, you realise you must’ve fallen asleep and he must’ve had to carry you all the way to his apartment.

you mumble, voice sleepy, “i’m sorry.”

“you can let me down now.” you say, yawning, jumping out of his arms, “i’ll be fine.”

you put your head against his shoulder, sleepy eyes on the verge of closure, and he supports you by the waist as he reaches for the key and opens the lock. he pushes the door open, entering himself. then, he take your hand, leading you in. closing the door behind him, he drops down to his knees to free your feet from your footwear.

you step back in hesitance, chirping, “you don’t have to.”

“please, i can do it myself.” you insist, squatting down to release the straps of your shoes, but you’re so sleepy, you lose your balance and fall to the ground.

you squeal, “ah, shit.”

“well that was certainly embarrassing.” you chuckle at yourself, rubbing the nape of your neck nervously. atsumu doesn’t laugh at you, he only makes an effort to help you out. he takes your foot in his hand, unbuckles your ankle strap and takes the heel off. one followed by the other.

he gets off the ground himself, then holds out a hand for you to take. you accept, putting your palm in his. he grips you by the hand and helps you, pulling you up. he instantly lifts you in his arms. you’re taken by surprise in the first few seconds but after a while, you don’t mind in the least. your muscles are far too sore to be put to work and if the cause for the same is aiding you with the commute, you aren’t going to be one to complain against it.

he carries you inside his apartment, leaving the genkan, and takes you straight to his bedroom. he puts your figure on the bed. without saying a word, he walks into his closet.

a muffled voice speaks from the inside, “i know you’re very tired, but i’m going to draw you a bath right now.”

“you should clean up.” he recommends.

he walks out of his closet with a towel, a pair of night suit that belongs to a female and one of his own hoodies. he puts the towel on the chair next to his mater bed, then places the two options on the bed sheet in the space next to you, pointing at the night suit, informing, “that belongs to rin.”

“and that’s mine.” he points to his hoodie.

he offers you a choice, “choose whichever you want.”

he shrugs, explaining himself, “i understand that rin’s clothes may make you uncomfortable, but i only brought them out because you’re the same size as her.”

“it’s okay.” you purse your lips at him, declaring, “i think i’m gonna go with your hoodie.”

he nods, quickly clearing rin’s outfit from the bed, “of course, not a problem.”

“the bathroom is right there.” he points to a door, guiding you to the bathroom.

you drop your back against the bed, babbling as you yawn, closing your eyes, “you go first.”

“i’m going to lie down for a while.” you say, turning on your side, drifting to sleep.

he nods, leaving you on the bed as he walks into the bathroom, “alright, i’ll be right back.”

atsumu takes a shower first, changing into a set of fresh clothes. he comes out of the bathroom to find that you’re still asleep in the same position he left you in. he sits beside you and leans closer to wake you up, when he notices your light snores. he chuckles to himself because he finds it absolutely adorable.

he tickles your feet, whispering in your ear, “it’s your turn now, kitten.”

you’re jolted awake by the ticklish sensation spreading across your foot plantar aspect. you whine, reaching out to slap his hand, “what the hell.”

“stop it.” you grunt, rubbing your eyes open.

he takes you by the waist and drags you out of bed. he picks up the towel from the chair, putting it on your shoulder.

he gives you a light push in the direction of the bathroom, instructing, “go take a shower, i’ll be in the kitchen.”

“okay, i’ll go.” you maffle, yawning as you enter his bathroom.

you close the door behind you, while he walks out of the bedroom and trails towards the kitchen to make preparations for dinner for two.

once you’re done, you put on his hoodie, tie your hair into the towel for the water to be absorbed by the fabric, and walk out of his bedroom. you navigate your path to the kitchen and find atsumu waiting on you, two packets of shin ramyun, a pot to cook it in and cutlery to serve, as well as other necessities arranged on the island.

“i was expecting the food to be ready by the time i made it out of the shower.” you approach him, sighing in disappointment when you find the packets of ramen untouched.

he raises his brow at you, wrapping an arm around your waist, dragging you closer, “is that why you took your sweet time, kitten?”

“precisely.” you nod, adding to his sarcastic remark, walking out of his hold to lift the pot off the marble top.

you take it to the sink to fill it up with water. he follows, turning the tap for you while you hold the pot underneath the stream of water. once it’s filled a little under the brim, he closes the tap and you place to pot on the stove. he turns on the heat, adjusting it to maximum so that the water will come to a boil faster.

“dry my hair, i’ll cook for us.” you instruct, releasing the towel that binds your hair. you hand it to him.

he accepts your request, putting the towel over your head, massaging your hair as he makes sure the remainder of the water is soaked up by the towel that has already done a good enough job. you turn around to grab the packets of ramen from the kitchen island. atsumu follows your lead, focusing on drying your hair while you move back to the stove.

you ask, cutting open the first packet of ramen to retrieve the cake of noodles, “how the hell did you come out of the bathroom with dry hair, anyways?”

“one, mine is short.” he justifies, dropping the towel over your shoulder. he pinches your cheek, mentioning, “two, i used a hairdryer.”

you sigh, slightly disappointed in yourself, “seems i completely missed it.”

“you can use it now if you’d like.” he suggests, picking the towel off your shoulder, putting it on your head once again, continuing to dry your hair.

you decline, insisting, “no, thanks. i should cook the ramen first.” you cut open the second pack to retrieve the second cake of noodles.

once the water comes to a boil, you add the raw noodles to the pot, minimising the heat. you take the tastemakers out of both the packets, putting them to the side. you peek around, looking for the bin.

you ask, holding out the waste in front of his face, “where do i throw this?”

he drops the towel on your head, collecting the waste from your hand and walks over to the bin in the corner of the kitchen to discard it. you continue keeping a watch over the noodles being cooked in the pot. he returns and begins massaging your hair once again.

“you’ve done enough.” you state, turning around to face him. you take the towel off your head and walk to the dining table in order to temporarily place it on a chair for it to dry a little.

you walk back to the stove to check on the ramen. you take a pair of chopsticks and pick a noodle out of the pot. you blow some air over it, then chew on the noodle to confirm that it’s cooked. once you’re sure, you turn off the heat and drain the water, adding the tastemaker to the pot. you mix it around, making sure it spreads evenly, before you serve the noodles in two plates.

you grab the noodles with your pair of chopsticks, and turn around to offer the bite to atsumu, “here, have this.”

atsumu takes up your offer, complimenting your skills, “good job, chef.”

“but nothing tastes as good as you, kitten.” he sneers at you, then closes the distance between the two of you to place a kiss on you lips.

you scrunch your face, disgusted, complaining, “really, tsumu? you had no business saying that right before dinner.”

“my bad, kitten.” he sighs, apologising.

he relieves your hand of the plate and places it next to the other plate that has been served. he wraps his arms around your waist, locking you in his hold. he kisses you, thrusting his tongue inside your mouth, playing around. you pull back instantly, wiping the saliva dripping from the corner of your lips.

“really?” you roll your eyes, whining in disbelief that he still wants more for the night after doing you twice already.

he mumbles, pushing the loose strands of your hair behind your ear, “of course, only if you want to.”

“my body is sore, i can’t.” you decline, pushing him off you. you move on to grab your plate of ramen and start walking towards his couch.

you reason with him, “besides, i need to finish my ramen before it gets cold.”

“of course.” he grieves, his smug smile lowering into a frown as he approaches his own plate of noodles and trails to the couch to join you for dinner.

he puts his plate on the coffee table, putting his arms around your waist, lugging you closer to himself. you’re busy eating your ramen while he kisses your cheek, then your neck, unwilling to let you go, unwilling to touch his share of the food. he isn’t desperate to eat his ramen, he’s only desperate for you. meanwhile you don’t think you can take any more action for the night.

he hugs your tighter, canoodling with you, mumbling, “you’re so cute, kitten.”

he puts his chin on your breasts, mentioning, “so squish, just like obi chan.”

at the mention of her name, obi chan appears, meowing. she jumps on top of the sofa, taking a spot on your lap. atsumu pats her butt, frowning, “obi chan, leave. we’re busy.” the cat gets off, agitated and starts walking in the direction of the bedroom.

“don’t act like a baby.” you warn him, offering a bite out of your own plate, “have the food before it gets cold, will you?”

he takes your plate away, putting it on the coffee table. you lean closer to the table to grab a hold of it, but he stops you and pulls the hoodie off you, revealing that you’re wearing nothing underneath.

“idiot.” you screech, quickly shielding your breasts using your hands.

he apologises, bowing down to you, “i’m sorry i didn’t know you were wearing nothing underneath.”

“i washed my bra and left it to dry.” you explain, vigorously pulling the hoodie out of his grasp to put it on.

he smirks, shrugging, “well nothing i haven’t seen before.” you slap his cheek, albeit not vigorously.

he pretends to be hurt, grunting, “ouch.”

“deserved.” you announce, grabbing your plate of noodles, continuing to dine.

you instruct atsumu, pointing at his untouched plate, “eat.”

he doesn’t bother following your order, instead he nuzzles his nose against your freshly washed hair, speaking in an undertone, “i’ll have it later.”

“right now, i just want you.” he reveals, interrupting the bite of noodles you’re about to gulp down, when he cranes his neck, putting it in the way to kiss you on the lips.

you return his kiss before shoving his face aside. you quake at him, playfully slapping his cheek, then pinching it, “you’re so clingy for someone who doesn’t even want me in his life.”

he wraps his arms around you again, pulling you in closer. you turn your head to kiss his cheek before going back to your dinner. he interjects your next bite, chowing it down himself, laughing at the offensive look that his action put across your face. you roll your eyes, preparing another bite for him, holding it out for him to take.

“i never said i don’t want you.” he confesses, moving your hair out of his way to nibble at your ear, stating, “i just don’t want a girlfriend right now.”

atsumu instantly drops down on one knee. you pay him no heed, knowing all too well that nothing worthwhile is going you drop out of his mouth over the span of the rest of the night. you continue eating the final remnants from your plate of ramen.

still on his knees, he grabs a bite of noodles from his bowl, holding it out to you, proposing, “miss yn, though i cannot make you my girlfriend right now, would you like to be my girlfriend who’s not my girlfriend?”

you know exactly what it means. it doesn’t take you long to figure out that he just wants to keep you around for the sex until further notice. he may proceed to make you his girlfriend or just use and drop you, whatever the future him decides. you want to deny deny deny, but you recall that you had a conversation regarding this issue with him prior this night and still ended up sleeping with him a while later. you’re definitely not god’s strongest soldier when it comes to this man.

“that makes no sense.” you roll your eyes, flicking his forehead, ordering, “get off the damn floor now.”

“fool.” you chastise him.

he stands up, taking his spot next to you, caging you in his embrace once again, nuzzling against you neck, mumbling in a dejected tone, “i’m sad that you rejected me.”

“you just asked me to be your fuck buddy.” you run your fingers through his hair, commenting, “of course i rejected you.”

he looks up at you, smirking at your face, making a claim based on your past experiences, “you and i both know you’ll be weak for me any time i ask you for it.”

“fair enough.” you accept, making no attempt to hide your lack of rigidity when it comes to man clinging onto you.

you give it a thought. you shouldn’t, but you still do. you look at the situation from all angles and you conclude that the worst that can happen is that you end up falling for a man who possibly won’t reciprocate your sentiments. that will probably equal to a few days of crying and whining to shoyou and yachi. but if the tables turn and you successfully make him fall in love with you, you’ll be a winner. the chances of the latter becoming a reality are rare, but you’re willing to take a chance as long as the probably of it isn’t zero.

it sounds stupid, but you can’t deny that you’ll never be able to decline atsumu’s approaches. if you’re to run into him ten thousand more times along the course of your lifetime, you’ll end up in his arms every single time, allowing him to take advantage of you as he pleases. you’re just that weak for some reason, lacking a spine. hence, you choose to no longer see the harm in accepting his shit proposal.

you welcome his offer, muttering, “whatever, i don’t care if we do this.”

“great.” he rejoices, embracing you tighter, kissing your head vigorously multiple times.

you interject his joy, “but i have a few conditions.”

“nevermind.” you drop the idea of mapping any ground rules regarding your arrangement, not that you had planned any to begin with. you didn’t even know you’d end up in an agreement of such nature with him. you were just about to make up some rules at random.

but you still lay down one single rule, “let’s keep our contact to a minimum.”

“we’ll restrict our contact only to our arrangement.” you make a declaration, holding out your hand to sign a treaty with the opposing party, “agreed?”

“agreed.” atsumu grins at you, shaking your hand, utterly satisfied in himself for bagging a girl so effortlessly.

彡 yn said yes to atsumu because of her big fat crush on him, other than the fact that she can’t say no to him.

彡 yn and atsumu ended up watching her favourite movie (how to train a dragon) before they went to bed.

彡 atsumu ended up asking yn if she’d like to spend the day with him and despite her own rule, she ended up saying yes.

彡 yn’s waffles tasted bland because she forgot to add sugar to the batter. so she had to compensate with syrup.

彡 atsumu posted yn on his official account on purpose. he very much intended to do so.

彡 chiyo is extremely happy about atsumu and yn being a thing because she likes tobio.

彡 atsumu picked out the lego set specifically for yn because she’s an artist and he wanted to give her something she would be interested in.

彡 for a change atsumu and yn didn’t end up sleeping together after their date. he just dropped her off at her dorms.

previous : ninth circle of shame

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🐰 imma take my leave.

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Petrichor [13]

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Powered!Reader (little bit of fwb)

Words: 19,197

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/comfort (i know!!), manipulation (canon), gaslighting, jason being drugged against his will (canon), description of scars (jason has autopsy scars because i said so), mentions of the roof scene, mentions of gore?, mentions of death, mentions of withdrawal, self-deprecating thoughts (jason tried to walk off of a roof and titans never mentioned that again so we're going back to that mindset for him for just a second, there's no attempt or anything, just his thoughts), violence, blood, mentions of abuse, mentions of drug addiction (canon), drug use (canon)

Summary: ❝Pylades: I’ll take care of you. Orestes: It’s rotten work. Pylades: Not to me. Not if it’s you.❞

Gotham is home, not just for Jason but for you, too. And now that you’re both finally back home, together, you’re ready to see where this next chapter brings the two of you. He’s your best friend and you’re his. And you both might want a little something more with being back home, the place you both feel most comfortable. Surely, nothing could possibly go wrong now.

A/N: I was writing the warnings and wow lmao poor Jason. I can't wait to write him a happy ending lol You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Maybe going back to the manor would be in your best interest. You could go there and lock yourself in your room, throw your technology against a wall and call it all good enough. No temptation to turn back around, no temptation to pick up the phones and hit redial, and demand it’s a mistake and you take it all back. It would be easier to go to the manor and tell Gar what happened because maybe Gar would tell you it was the wrong decision and none of you can give up on Jason. But, none of this has been easy so you don’t go to the manor. Instead, you go back to the Excellent Gotham, going up to the roof through the back where the crime unit doesn’t see you.

You ditch your phone and your necklace on the roof, figuring all of it will be safe for an hour. You hide everything under the radiator unit before you head back down and back to your bike. Then you drive to the one person who will not be so understanding of this entire mess but deserves an answer. And deserves to know what’s going on, just in case.

“Hey.” Molly greets, standing in her doorway.

Her hand rests on the doorframe, blocking you from inside while she wears a sowl. You look to your feet and then back to Molly, knowing this is going to be difficult. You're thinking your own guilt might fall into the air and suffocate you like carbon monoxide poisoning. Maybe that’d be less painful.

“I need to talk to you.” You state softly, tugging your sleeves over your blood-stained hands.

Molly scoffs, shaking her head as she keeps her hand on the door. It’s unbelievable. She knows Jason dying was horrible. It’s worse that you had to be the one to find him mangled and bloody. But, Molly cleaned his blood out of your suit and off of your hands. She cleaned his blood off of the bathroom floor that night all by herself. It was Molly that got you into bed with tear-stained cheeks and the smell of iron radiating off of you. It was Molly that had to take care of you instead of grieving for her friend. Molly didn’t see what you did but she didn’t have to because the blood across the entire bathroom and your traumatized demeanor told her everything and it was fucking traumatizing for her, too. Molly still tried to be there for you and you do what you always do. You run away from everything that hurts. That left Molly alone to deal with the loss of one of her best friends. Alone.

“You’ve been ignoring me for a week and now you want to talk?” Molly spits back. “I lost—“

“It’s about Jason.” You cut her off because you know you've been a shitty friend. You know. Molly hesitates, her eyes narrowing as she shakes her head. “You can yell at me all you want and you can slam the door in my face but I bet you didn’t replace your locks so I can just break in anyway.”

“Seriously?” Molly asks, unamused.

You shrug softly, sucking in a deep breath. “It’s important. I know, alright?” You gesture your arms out. “Just…let me fucking--”

“Is that blood?” Molly asks, seeing your hands.

You look down, blood staining your hands yet again. Your hands are shaking and you didn’t even realize it. When did they start shaking? Have they been shaking the whole time? When did the blood dry anyway? It feels chalky on your hands and it makes you grimace, shaking your head quickly.

“Uh…yeah.” You nod and you see Molly’s face soften. You swear you don’t deserve sympathy. “It’s not mine. It is why I’m here though.” You say softly. “Not Jason's either, to clarify.”

Molly raises a brow at the last remark, knowing it can’t be Jason’s on account of him being dead. But, she’s watching you shift your weight on your heels and your hands shake at your sides. Molly might be mad but she is also intrigued with what this could have to do with Jason and at the end of the day, she is worried about you. She knows your body count is up to four but she knows you would say it’s five. And that’s always concerning. So, she lets out a sigh and moves her hand, stepping aside so you can enter the apartment.

“I’m mad at you. But, fine. Say whatever it is.” Molly crosses her arms over her chest as the two of you stand in her kitchen.

“I’m sorry, okay? You were looking out for me and I just….couldn’t deal with it. I’m sorry for yelling and being mean. I know, I know you lost him, too. And I’m sorry.” You swallow thickly. “I just…” You shrug in defeat. If you're going to get Molly to listen to you, you need to tell her why you did it. “I think I thought I didn’t deserve your help, okay? Maybe that’s what it was. Like…” You pause, looking up to the ceiling. “Uh, ya know? I, uh, I couldn’t look out for Jason when he really needed it so I didn’t fucking deserve it. I don’t know. But I’m fucking sorry because you didn’t deserve that.”

“I know.” Molly nods, softly as her brows furrow. As mad and as hurt as she is, she never wants you to feel like you don’t deserve help. No one should feel that way and it wasn’t even your fault. “Why would you think you don’t deserve help?”

You grit your teeth. “Oh, well, that’s part of what I get to tell you.” You roll your eyes. “He just…” You chew the inside of your cheek. “He has saved my life more than once and…I couldn’t fucking save him. And I should have seen it and I didn’t. I should have been there for him and I wasn’t…not in the way he clearly needed. He did….so much for me without ever knowing it, I think and I just…couldn’t repay him. So…I took it out on you and Gar and Dick and everyone. And I’m just really fucking sorry.” Your voice cracks.

There’s a fear creeping into the back of your head and for a reason you don’t quite understand, you think about the anti-fear drug. It would be easier to have this conversation if you had it. But you don’t. You have to suck it up and it sucks. It’s making you think you were too hard on Jason for making and taking the drug in the first place. You snapped and went after him and maybe you were too hard on him because he was suffering and he wanted a way out without taking a way out. He just wanted help and to be Robin. It’s all he ever wanted, to be fearless so he can do the one thing everyone thought he was best at. You think about the drug because all you want right now is to stop running from everything that hurts and that scares you so you can stop hurting other people. The people that care about you. Maybe you were too hard on Jason for it.

“And I’m sorry for ignoring you. I did what I always do. I know. And I’m sorry. And some shit fucking happened and it just…got so fucking messy and I’d have to lie to you and I couldn’t do that. But…” Your rambling pauses. “I have to tell you because it’s not fucking fair to you and uh…I’m just…scared and tired of keeping secrets. But you can’t tell anyone.”

Molly lets out a breath as she watches you tug your sleeves down over the ligature scars. They’re fading, slowly. But they are fading and it doesn’t excuse you for being a shitty friend but…this can’t be easy. Molly puts herself in your shoes. You're uprooted from the only thing you've ever known and then tortured and given powers. Molly knows you always hated the idea of having powers. It was always good for other people but no thanks for you. Now you're stuck with them and not even by accident or by your own doing but by your abuser. You're then thrown into being a vigilante. Something you never quite understood why someone would do. Why risk your life for other people who don’t give a fuck about you? And then Jason. It’s not right but… things haven’t been easy.

“Okay.” Molly nods softly. “But, you need to get help for your own shit, okay? It’s not fair to me, you’re right.”

You nod quickly. “Trust me, already thought about that.” You scoff. You should have followed in Jason’s shoes. You should have taken Bruce’s advice and just talked to Leslie.

“Okay so…what’s going on?” Molly asks as she uncrosses her arms, resting one hand on her hip.

“Jason’s alive.” You spit the words out so fast Molly nearly misses them.

“That’s not funny.” Molly shakes her head but her voice lacks any and all venom.

“Yeah.” You scoff. “That’s what I said but he is. Long story, not mine to tell. But he’s alive. He’s Red Hood.” You explain, keeping it short.

Molly nods her head once, realizing that’s why Red Hood dropped Deigo off. That’s how he even knew about the missing kids. It’s because Red Hood is Jason. That explains a lot while also explaining almost nothing.

You nod softly. “Yeah, he killed Pete Hawkins.” Sam states as if you could see Molly putting pieces together.

“And you knew?” Molly asks as you watch her eyes start to glass over.

“He asked me not to fucking tell anyone and I told him he had to tell you and Gar because you’d both hate me if you guys knew I knew and didn’t say anything.” You shake your head and while that’s true, that does not stop the guilt from turning your stomach. “But shit is hitting the fan and…I don't know when he plans to tell you and I’m tired of keeping his secrets.”

Molly’s brows furrow as she’s taken aback by everything. Jason is alive and comes back as a crime lord. That’s already weird but now you're standing here saying you're tired of keeping his secrets. You're nothing if not loyal to the people you love and Jason is very high up on that list of people.

“Okay, hold on.” Molly closes her eyes for a second as she tries to process everything. “So, he’s alive but he doesn’t want anyone to know? Instead, he decides to become Red Hood? And now you’re suddenly not on his side? What the hell is going on?”

You gesture your hands, waving them slightly with the roll of your eyes. “Mr. Drake was shot today, hit on Excellent Gotham.”

“Is he okay?” Molly rushes. “Why…wait. Jason…didn’t?”

“Uh….I don’t know. Tim’s gonna text me but uh, yeah it was Jason.” You suck in a breath and you decide you're just going to tell the story as quickly and as plainly as possible. It’s going a bit numb anyway. “Some sort of threat to Tim because Jason is working with Scarecrow to make an anti-fear drug. Jason left the formula and it was coded. I figured it out, Jason figured out that I had to go to Tim. I only even went to Tim thinking Jason wouldn’t think I would do that. But, of course he did because he knew I’d never be able to look you in the eye and not tell you he’s alive. So, yeah.”

Molly blinks a few times as the room falls silent. When you said it was about Jason, you really could have prepared her a little more for this. What the hell is going on and how is Molly supposed to just take all of this in? There’s a small part of her that wonders if this is just a fever dream.

“Can…can I wash my hands while you digest that?” You ask after a few seconds of silence.

“Yeah…” Molly points to the kitchen sink while you walk over. “Why the hell are you so calm?”

“Probably shock.” You mutter. “Oh, and let me give you a rundown of everything that’s happened, literally this week. Jason’s alive so Dick and me dug up his grave. Fun. All of the Titans got mad at me and basically turned on me for knowing he’s alive. Ya know whatever. Then I remade the drug, got high, me and Jason then fought each other cause I went to confront him. While I was there, he was putting a bomb in Hank’s chest. I failed, blah blah blah, we all failed. Hank blew up. Me and Dick kidnapped Crane, then fought Jason again. They almost shot me so I fought both of them, then Babs got Dick shot. Then Excellent Gotham got shot up while I was inside and I killed 3 more people because Jason gave them the drug.” You say casually, the water almost overcoming your voice.

“There’s so much to unpack there.” Molly mutters softly and decides maybe she should sit down. She needs to figure out which part of that she wants to dive into first.

“Oh, yeah, it’s been a very eventful week. At this point, I think this is just my life. You know that little stuff I’ve been telling you about what happened?” You ask.

You told Molly bits and pieces of what happened to you, specifically over the last couple of years. But, you've also been very careful to avoid anything that could ever out any of anyone's vigilante alter egos. You've been very careful not to give anything too detailed away about what happened to Jason in San Francisco. You always kept a lot of the details to yourself, partially to keep secrets about everyone but also to spare Molly horrifying details. But, in order for Molly to understand everything that's led Jason here, she has to know the whole story. In every detail.

“Neglecting every important detail that would make your stories make sense, yes.” Molly quips.

“Right, well, you know Deathstroke?” You question and Molly nods slowly, already hating where this is going. “Well, when we got hurt together, yeah, it’s because Deathstroke and Dr. Light kidnapped us and then tortured us. Some vendetta against Dick. And uh, you know Jason’s limp he has sometimes? Yeah, Deathstroke dug the tracker out of his leg. Dropped us from a skyscraper, Conner saved Jason when he fell. Dick pulled me in. So, ya know, oh, the powers! Jerry, abusive fuck, yeah that’s all him.” You say with the nod of your head.

“You were both kidnapped by Deathstroke?” Molly asks, earning another nod. "And Jerry gave you powers?"

"Well, experimented on to give me powers to give himself powers, yes." You nod your head, chewing the inside of your cheek. "Not really relevant right now, but I figured I'd throw that in there."

You suck in a deep breath before you explain the story of Deathstroke to Molly. And the events that followed, this time in excruciating detail. Everything between being hit and Jason being choked. The two of you trying to defend the other only for it to be useless. You explain everything that happened outside of the skyscraper and then your talk in the bathroom that, up until this moment, has been just between you and Jason. Then you tell her about Jason walking out to the roof. You tell Molly every detail.

“That explains a lot.” Molly nods. “I knew he was different. I knew something bad happened over there but…” Molly's heart aches and she really wishes Jason could have told her or talked to her about it. She isn't sure she could have helped, but she would have tried.

“Yeah…” You nod your head.

“Why are you telling me now?” Molly shakes her head in confusion. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I don’t know. I just…you asked why I’m so calm and I just think it’s my life now. And I think you should know. I think you need to know the whole story in order to understand any of it. It’s bigger than Bruce taking Robin away from him. You have to know the story and you’re the only one that doesn’t.” You shrug softly.

“Right, okay, yeah. That makes sense.” Molly nods her head before she decides to switch back to something else you said. Molly takes a seat at the kitchen table. “Wait, hold you, you made a fucking drug and then took it?!”

You glance at her as you shrug and then look back to the water. Everyone is so upset about that part of the story. “Yes. I’m fine. It was fine. Ya know, it wasn’t like…I didn’t die.”

“You’re an idiot.” Molly groans as she holds the bridge of her nose while you dry your hands.

“I’ve been told.” You nod your head as you lean against the counter, keeping the paper towels in your hands.

“I have so many questions.” Molly rests her elbow on the table. “Why is Jason working with Scarecrow? I mean, are you sure?” Molly isn’t sure why she asked. You and Dick literally kidnapped him, so you have to be sure but she just finds it so hard to believe.

“Oh, we are positive.” You let out a sigh. “Robin can’t be scared.” You grit your teeth, the anger bubbling back in your stomach like mixing pop rocks and pop. “It’s…Bruce made Jason feel like he was only ever good enough as Robin. And he made him and Dick sign a fucking contract about not being scared or something. I don’t even know. So, Jason gets fucking PTSD from Deathstroke because Dick got Deathstroke’s son fucking killed and Bruce sends him to therapy and then for some fucking reason, decides to just….take it away. Robin can’t be scared so Jason got immediate help, I fucking guess.” You sneer and you're still so mad at Bruce.

So much of this is on him and he just left. He left Gotham in the hands of the Titans as if they weren’t busy with their own shit. He leaves and Jason’s back but he wouldn’t know because he’s unreachable. His own son is back from the damn dead and he doesn’t even know. His other son is being hunted down and again, he doesn’t even know. Dick lost Jason, too but it was all about Bruice even though Bruce is the one who could have prevented this. He could have made Jason see he didn’t need to be Robin. He could have killed the Joker sooner. He could have just let him be Robin. There were options and Bruce always chose the worst one. You all let Jason down, but at least you and the other Titans are here unlike Bruce.

“Why…I mean…” Molly sucks in a breath, trying desperately to understand Jason. “So, he makes an anti-fear drug and I’m assuming it’s the opposite of the fear gas?” Molly asks while you nod. “So, he’s just…not scared.” Molly rolls her eyes. “He doesn’t feel anything else, does he? I mean…it’s why we can’t live without our adrenaline glands.”

You nod, walking over to the trash can to toss out the paper towels. “Yeah, it’s a little more complicated than that but yeah. It, uh, it’s like it gets rid of hesitance, ya know? And then you just….do whatever seems fun and it thrives off of anger. It doesn’t matter what you do either as long as you’re fighting. That’s how we fought. Neither of us really…tried. But, we did anyway and that’s why. So, uh, yeah. But, um….I think Crane is withholding it. It looked like he was going through withdrawal tonight.” You explain as you chew the inside of your cheek.

“He was actually there while Excellent Gotham was hit?” Hurt consumes Molly's voice as her brows raise.

“Yeah, outside. He didn’t know I was there. He didn’t see me, I guess but that doesn’t matter.”

Molly watches you carefully and as much as Molly wants to believe you're here out of the kindness of your heart to let her know about Jason, she also knows that is not the case. Everything is hitting the fan. You're friends with Tim and you both could have died. Jason is targeting the Titans. Gar is Jason’s friend, too. Jason knows you're always at Excellent Gotham. If he’s willing to target them, who else is he willing to target? You would not be standing here confessing everything if you weren’t scared and if something else didn’t happen.

Molly scolds your name as you walk over, taking a seat across from her. “Why are you really here? You didn’t come because I deserved to know. I know you.”

You shift in your seat. “If he shows up here, calls you, texts you, I need you to call me, Dick, and Gar, okay? Don’t let him in. I don’t think he’ll come after you because you’re his friend, too but…I also never imagined he’d ever target the Drakes.”

“He’ll know you came here.” Molly gestures a hand toward you, eyes darting to where the necklace normally sits.

“Ditched my phone and necklace.” You state. “I’m going back for everything when I’m done here and I don’t actually think that’s how he knew about Tim. I don’t think he’s tracking me or anything but yeah, I wasn’t taking that risk.”

“So, I just…call you guys?”

You nod. “Yeah, keep him here or on the phone until we show up. I’ll text you their numbers when I grab my phone. I just…want you to know. And uh, don’t…don’t go out of your way to contact him, please, okay? I really, really, want you left out of it. Crane is fucking insane. And I know he’s gotten into Jason’s head so Jason’s been trying to kill Dick. I think if Bruce were here he’d be going after him, too. I don’t know if the hit on Excellent Gotham was all Jason or Crane. I don’t know. The more people involved, the more people Crane can weaponize Jason against.”

Molly takes everything in and she’s starting to grow worried for Jason. If Jason is targeting the Titans, of all people, where is that going to leave him? Even if all of this is Crane and the drug, what’s going to happen to him? You're sitting here confessing everything to her which means, to some degree, you've lost hope in him. And that’s not something Molly ever imagined happening. Is there only one way for this to end?

“What’s gonna happen to him?” Molly asks quietly.

You shrug. “I don’t know.” Your eyes start to water. “I hope he uh, stops taking the drug entirely and uh…then he comes home but I don’t know.” You sniffle softly, biting down your own tears.

If Jason doesn’t stop taking the drug and he keeps working with Crane, that only leaves two options. Lock him up in Arkham or kill him. Not that anyone wants to do the second option, it’s just that Jason will force it. He won’t go out quietly or easily. It’ll be a fight to the death and you know that and you hate the idea of it. You think about everything you could possibly do to take the drug away. The only other thing is to try and kidnap him but, given your history, that just seems fucked up. You don’t want him kidnapped or in Arkham or dead. All you can do is hope he snaps out of it.

Molly nods softly before tilting her head to the right slightly. You're looking down at the table, tugging your sleeves over your hands. “Are you okay?”

You shake your head softly before looking up at Molly. “I, uh, I ended things tonight.” You state as you watch Molly’s frown grow deeper. “And, I don’t mean it, I think we can get him back but, uh…I told him I gave up on him and I…regret it.”

“I’m so sorry.” Molly says and she knows it’s bad for you to even say it. You're usually careful with your words when you're angry. “Have you tried everything else? To get him back?”

“Everything. I’ve tried talking to him and fighting him and yelling and we tried to trap him. I tried defending him and…yeah.” You nod, the lump growing in your throat once more. “But…I promised him I’d never be like everyone else and I stood there and I did it anyway. I don’t fucking mean it but I just…he could have gotten me and Tim killed. His dad might die. It’s not really Jason but it’s just…I just regret it. He’d never do that to me.” There’s a crack in your voice as your eyes start to burn and turn a haunting shade of red.

“We’re not kids anymore.” Molly says sternly. “You can’t keep every promise you make. Jason has always been bull-headed. I’ve known him for years. If Jason is good at something, it’s pushing people away.”

“Yeah, I know. His self-preservation is just self-destruction in disguise. But...”

“No, fuck that. You just said he blew up Hank. He’s trying to kill Dick and he could have killed you more than once. He died and instead of coming back home to you or even crashing here for some reason, he became Red Hood. And that’s fucked up. I love Jason but what he’s doing is wrong and maybe he needs to hit rock bottom alone for it to make sense to him. You defend him against everyone and everything no matter what he does. Did you ever stop to think that the Deathstroke situation was his fault? You and Gar went along with the plan but Jason wanted to prove himself so you agreed. It was his fault. Sure, Dick had a hand in it and so did Rose and the other Titans. But it was Jason who didn’t listen. It was Jason who thought he was better than a group of Titans. It was Jason that got you both dropped from a skyscraper. But, you come back and you take the blame for some reason. Why? Because you didn’t tell him no? So? I met Gar and I don’t think Gar would have told him no with or without you. So, if it’s your fault, it’s Gar’s fault but you won’t say it’s Gar’s fault. It’s Jason’s.”

Molly isn’t going to let you beat yourself up over this again. You telling Jason you're done and you're giving up, that’s a huge thing. And Molly knows it. Molly would love to believe there is another way. Jason doesn’t handle abandonment well but if you're doing it, there is no other option. Jason needs to understand, in some way, that he can’t just take a drug and make everything okay again. That’s not how it works and it hurts people. He’s hurting himself and he’s hurting everyone else who cares about him. Maybe Jason needs to feel alone to get it.

“Okay, yeah, maybe. But, I just…what if this is worse, Molly? What then?” You sniffle. “What if…ya know? I don’t want it to get him killed again.”

“He’s going to get himself killed again regardless and you’re going to blame yourself for it no matter what you do.” Molly says harshly. “You’ve tried everything else, try this. If it doesn’t work, then you tried.”

“That’s not good enough!” You stand up, slamming your hands on the table. “Just trying isn’t fucking good enough! It has to fucking work!” There's a squeak to your voice as if your vocal cords are finally giving out.

“No!” Molly yells back. “Sometimes, things just aren’t enough, no matter how hard we try. That’s just how it is.” Molly shakes her head.

"Yeah, but it should still be enough. It just has to be. It has to be...worth it." Your voice grows desperate.

"It's always worth it. It's always worth it to try. Do you think Jason regrets trying with Catherine? Do you blame Jason for Catherine dying?"

"What? No, of course not." You scoff.

"Exactly. Because he tried. He didn't let her overdose. He could have. He could have let her starve, too but he didn't. He loves his mom and she tried, too. But, you know how addiction is. Jason's trying wasn't enough to save her and she died. Catherine trying to be a parent wasn't enough and it lead Jason to the streets and shitty foster homes. But, that doesn't mean their effort wasn't worth it. Bruce tried, as much as you hate him, he tried and it got Jason killed and Dick a mess. I tried and you still took off." Molly shakes her head. "Dick has tried with all of you and you're killing people and losing your mind, Jason is a drug addict working for Scarecrow, Gar is trying to pick everyone off the floor, Hank blew up, Jericho got killed, Dawn is gone. That doesn't mean his effort was wasted or useless."

You let out a breath and maybe Molly makes a point. There is a point in trying. It might work but you would never know unless you try. Putting in the effort is worth it but it's really hard to swallow when you feel so guilty about it. And what if it's not enough this time? Where is that supposed to leave you and Jason? All you want is him to be home and happy and healthy and safe.

“What do we do when it’s not enough? How do people even come back from that though?”

"Then we try something else." Molly answers simply. "And we keep trying. You giving up might be enough because if you give up, I’ll side with you and he knows that. So, will Gar. So, will the Titans. He’ll be alone. You’re the last living person that would ever give up on him and you’re his last chance at climbing out of the hole he dug himself. Maybe it is enough but you’re never going to know if you pick up your phone and call him.”

You nod your head quickly. “I know. It’s just...I wish I would have just been enough to keep him...out of this. Like...that my validation was enough and love for him was. Or yours and Gar's. I just hope you're right and trying this way is enough. I don't--”

“No.” Molly protests. “And you are enough. Don’t let his bullshit make you ever think that you’re not. You are. And he fucking tried with you, too. I have never seen him try in a way that he did with you. So, it was always enough for him. But, sometimes, being enough isn’t the problem. It’s bigger than you and me and Gar. You’re enough. And he tried. And you tried. And I’m betting he’s still trying in his own Jason way because if not, you’d be dead. And we both know it. So, he’s still trying so you try this way. You tell him you give up and then you figure something else out. You have never known how to quit anything in your entire life. I mean, you would just ghost people because you can’t quit a damn relationship.”

“Okay, that went from inspiring to mean. Thanks.” You quip. "I didn't ghost people." You mutter through a huff.

Molly narrows her eyes, offering you an accusatory look. "Yeah, you did." Molly argues. "But, you didn't ghost him, you actually ended things tonight because you’re still trying.” Molly pleads with you. “That is you trying and that is what’s important. And you don’t mean it. So, what are you gonna do?”

“Wait, I guess.” You shrug. “Try to figure out what else they could have planned. Work on the inside.” You suck in a breath, Molly waiting for another idea. "Bruce has a cure for the fear gas on the Batcomputer, maybe we can work on a cure for this one. Or just destroy the batch Crane is making while also finding a way to just take him out. Take him out with the drug and Jason has no choice then." You ramble, just tossing out the first things that come to your head.

“Exactly. He thinks you’re giving up but you’re not. You’re trying to find another way to save him. Don’t beat yourself up for it. But, then if he calls me, I’m going to talk to him not because you told me to but because I don’t want him mixed up in this shit either.” Molly sucks in a breath. “The one thing that has always worked with Jason is just having someone who listens.”

“I know. Shit sucks.” You let out a deep sigh. "Hope it works."

“We’ll get him back. You’re not alone in this either.” Molly offers a soft smile. “Then, you two can sort your shit out and give each other a fair shot at this. It’ll all work out.”

“That’s really optimistic.”

“I believe in you and I believe in Jason.”

You offer a soft smile. “Thanks.” You sniffle softly. “You should talk to Gar, you two got this whole optimism thing going. Could be like motivational speakers or some shit.”

“You’re hilarious.” Sarcasm fills Molly's voice this time.

“I’m an idiot and hilarious. Mulit-facidet.”

“Right.” Molly rolls her eyes. “How was he though? I mean…after you told him?”

“He gave me this look once, uh, the day we got together and uh….he asked me what was so bad about him.” You shake your head. “I mean, I wanted to burst into tears with the look he gave me and the way he said it. It just….fuck Bruce, man.” You scoff. “And fuck me I guess because he gave me that same damn look tonight. You can be as optimistic as you want, but I don’t he’s going to forgive me for it.”

“I told him once that it was you.” Molly states. “You were it for him and he was it for you. It was just the two of you but you’re both stupid and stubborn. You guys were together the next day.” Molly’s eyes widen. “I still think that’s true.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re the only one he told he was alive. He could have told me when he brought Diego back but he didn’t. He told you. He could have dragged you into the Crane stuff but he didn’t. I don’t think for a second, he did it to be an asshole or to push you away and I don’t think you believe he did that either. And that day, outside the house, he knew exactly what to do. Your hands were glowing and he didn’t even hesitate like he knew you’d never hurt him. Because Jason is forgiving. Stubborn and self-destructive, but forgiving.”

You remember your first night in Gotham and how casual he was but he seemed so happy and excited. You don't think you ever saw him smile so much before. And you think about how you almost kissed him that night because he was being Jason, annoying and yet somehow charming. You think he wanted to kiss you, too. You remember how you both were happy then. You both were happy before and you think about the day you blurted out that you loved him. It was the start and end of everything. You remember how he kissed you with everything in him that day as if he couldn't fathom being loved for just being Jason Todd. And you remember how happy he was. Happy and loved and safe. You wonder if there's a pit somewhere that can send you both back to those moments.

“Yeah, I hope you’re right.” You offer a sad smile. “Really miss him.”

“We’ll get him back.” Molly smiles softly.

“Thanks." You clear your throat. "Uh, I gotta head out but thank you. I’m still gonna keep my distance a bit just in case but if something happens, call me and same thing if anything with Jason happens.”

“Of course.” Molly offers a reassuring nod.

“I’m still sorry.” You scrunch your nose.

“I know.” Molly scoffs. “I forgive you. Just work on your shit after this is over.”

“You got it.” You roll your eyes before you head out.

You head back to Excellent Gotham to grab your things before you head back to the manor. Once back at the manor, you find Gar and the two of you sit down to discuss the night. You explain everything to him, what happened at Excellent Gotham, Mr. Drake, Tim, Molly, and Jason. You explain it all just trying to keep him informed and then you say you don’t want to be involved in the whole thing anymore. Maybe it’s safer for everyone if you aren’t involved. Dick is already painting a big enough target on everyone, you don’t want to contribute to that. So, the two of you talk back and forth well into the night, Gar just trying his best to be there for you but he tells you almost the same thing that Molly said. Besides agreeing with giving up. He knows you didn’t tell him that to give up literally, but he is worried it’ll send Jason further over the edge. He doesn’t say that but he doesn’t tell you it’s all going to be okay either. So, you both just sit and talk until you fall asleep.

The following day, everyone is gathered in the Batcave around the Batcomputer. Dick is explaining that Jason and Crane are putting the drug on the streets and last night was a just a trial. You broke the news to Dick when you woke up and right about now, you're regretting it, Dick says none of you can look at Red Hood as Jason anymore. Not when they're distributing the drug to innocent people on the streets.

"Is that really fair?" You ask as you cross your arms over your chest.

"Yes." Dick answers sternly. "You know what he's done and what he's doing. You took the drug. Do you want other people—"

"That's not what I'm saying." You sigh. "Look, it didn't turn me into a killer. Or some shit. And I'm not like.....normal. So, Jason has to be in there, off the drug. Like all of these people."

"But we can't view him like that. It'll cloud our judgment. Right now, he is Red Hood and him and Crane need to be stopped. If you don't want to be involved, I understand."

"I thought you were done anyway?" Gar asks, still a little bitter about the conversation from the night before.

He tries to be there for you but he really doesn't agree with you giving up and not wanting to help. They need you because you're the only one that has ever been able to get through to Jason. And without you, who's going to convince Dick not to kill him? Or Kory? They're both tired of this and Gar doesn't stand a chance arguing with them. You, on the other hand, will argue and fight to the death if that's what it takes.

"I am." You snip. "I'm just saying." You roll your shoulders. "I fucking told you, he was worried and scared last night. Crane is withholding it from him. So, maybe we give him a day or something to come around, let the drug flush itself out. I was fine the next day but Jason's been taking it, probably, nonstop for a week. Erasing who is, I don't think that's gonna help." You narrow your eyes. "Unless, you have other plans than bringing him home."

"He's had plenty of chances to come home." Kory says, putting a hand on her hip.

"I thought you were against innocent people getting hurt?" Dick questions.

"Alright, if you wanna argue about morals and shit, go find Bruce." You scoff. "Whatever." You put your hands up in defeat, knowing there's no changing their minds this time. You don't even know why you're here.

Dick continues to explain he's going to use an illegal computer while Kory and Blackfire have someone else to take care of, leaving you, Gar, and Conner to themselves.

"What are you going to do when we find Jason?" Gar asks as Conner excuses himself to grab food for him and Krypto.

"Well, I guess nothing, Gar." You shake your head, a snip in your voice as you spin slowly in your chair at the Batcomputer.

"He depends on us and you're just giving up." Gar protests.

"He almost fucking shot me and he almost killed Jack!" You yell as the guilt and regret continue to chew away at your bones. "He didn't pull the damn trigger but he already knew what they were gonna do."

"But it wasn't him." Gar's voice goes quiet but still holds the same annoyance.

"Yeah, but he's going to have to deal with his own consequences. He woke up one day and decided he didn't want to be scared anymore and went to fucking Crane. That was Jason Todd's decision. Before Red Hood. He needs to deal with it." You grit your teeth and it sucks.

It all just sucks and Gar is really making the whole thing worse. You don't expect him to side with you all the time, that's fine. But, it'd be really nice if he would just accept this. Molly did and Molly agrees. It is torture not picking up the phone and calling Jason. You just wish Gar could see that.

"He was desperate." Gar defends and you don't know why he's being so stubborn about it.

"So was I." You say softly. "But I didn't go to a psychopath for help. He has to deal with it." You say quietly. "Why are you so..." You wave your hands around slightly, raising a brow at him. "I don't know, defensive about it?"

"The whole team is just falling apart." Gar shrugs. "And Dick doesn't seem like he really wants to try to help Jason anymore."

"I know." You roll your chair over to Gar's before putting your hands on his shoulders. "It's hard but you keep your optimism. I'm not gonna let Dick or Kory kill him. I might not stand a chance but they'll have to go through me if that's what it's going to lead to. You know I don't even mean it. But I can't just take it back. You know I can't. I've tried everything else, Gar." You let out a sigh, dropping your hands from Gar's shoulders. "I'm gonna go to the hospital and check on Tim. I owe him that since I can't tell him anything else." You stand up and start to walk off. "Let me know if something happens though, please. I do care. I just....can't, Gar. It hurts."

"Can I come?" Gar asks with the scrunch of his nose, scratching the back of his head.

"Actually, yeah." You nod your head and offer him a soft smile. "That'd be really nice." You jerk your head towards the hallway. "Come on, I'll drive."

Jason shows up at the old ice cream factory where Crane's been having the anti-fear drug cooked. With the anti-fear drug making its way through Jason's system over the past few hours, he's still feeling a little confident as he walks in for another inhaler, even if it feels like there's a weight tugging at his chest. Technically, disturbing the drug worked which means he was right. He's just actively trying to forget about what happened after. He tries to focus solely on being the one in charge now. He is not replaceable or expendable and he's hoping Crane sees that now. He just destroyed the last good thing in his life for this plan and the second the drug wears off, he's consumed with regret and guilt. If that doesn't show dedication, what else does?

And Crane seems to be fine with it. He doesn't seem angry or upset. And that, for some reason, is making Jason feel uneasy. Bruce and Dick would be pissed and would be screaming at him, even if he were right. But, Crane is just saying he understands and he's not like Bruce. He forgives him for betraying him. Something seems off but Jason isn't going to push to find out what's going on. That just seems like pushing his luck. So, he plucks an inhaler from the table and hits it.

But, there's something wrong.

It burns. His throat feels like it's blistering from the inside out. His lungs feel like they're going to spasm right out of his chest. Jason starts coughing, asking Crane what's in the inhaler as his legs grow weak. It's hard to breathe and despite the drug he just took two hours ago, he's starting to panic. The last time it was hard to breathe like this, he died. He died. He died. He died and it was brutal and terrifying. He can't breathe and why can't he breathe? What did Crane give him? Why would Crane do this to him? Is Crane really going to kill him?

Jason's head spins as his limbs grow weak making him fall to the floor, trying to grip the table to stabilize himself. But, he falls anyway and his heart is beating so fast he thinks he might go into cardiac arrest. Everything spins and fades in and out of blurry and full focus. He can't fucking breathe and everything is heavy. It's heavy and his eyes are heavy and then it all goes black.

You and Gar make it to the hospital and spend a few hours hanging out with Tim who's grateful for the company. The good news is that his dad is going to be just fine and they're talking about releasing him as early as tomorrow. The bullet didn't hit anything major which is pure luck. But, he's thankful to have someone to talk to and keep him company anyway even if a part of him is still a little bitter about the whole ordeal, as he should be.

But, then Gar gets a text from Dick. They know where Jason and Crane are. They're getting together to shut them down and bring them in. Dick, specifically, doesn't want you there. Given everything that's happened, he doesn't want you involved anymore. Either you'll be a target or you're going to flip. If this ends poorly, you'll be a problem with bringing Jason and Crane in. It's in everyone's best interest if you stay out of it this time.

"Sorry, uh...I have to go." Gar says quietly.

You eye him and you know. "Dick?"

"Yeah." Gar nods his head. "He's gonna come get me so you can stay here."

"Ahh." You nod once, your heart sinking. You're staying out of it anyway but if Dick wants Gar back and is coming for him, that means maybe they found them. Some part of you still wants to be there just in case something happens. But, you can't very well go argue with Dick outside of a hospital entrance about going to fight Red Hood and Scarecrow, so you just suck in a breath. "Um...can...can you just...ya know?"

Gar hesitates and he thinks for a second. If it came down to picking between Dick, Kory, Conner, and Blackfire or Jason, who would he pick? The Titans are his family but so is Jason and he doesn't want to bury another friend. He doesn't want to bury him again. Gar thinks about it and he's thinking if it came to it, maybe he would stand in front of Jason just to make sure Dick didn't kill him because he would do the same for Dick. And Jason would do the same for him.

"I'll do everything I can and I'll call you." Gar says. "Promise."

"Thanks, Gar." You offer a sad smile.

"Of course." Gar smiles back before looking to Tim. "Nice meeting you, dude. Glad your dad is okay." Gar says with a smile.

"Thanks, yeah, you, too." Tim nods his head as the two of them say their goodbyes and Gar heads out. Your eyes linger on the exit, finding it hard to just sit here. What if you saying you're giving up gives the Titans some right of passage to kill him? What then? "What? You're not gonna go?"

You shake your head. "No, I, uh, I thought I'd hang out with you a little longer. It's probably just some bullshit anyway." You shift in your seat with the roll of your eyes.

"Jason almost gets my dad killed and now you're not going to be involved?" Tim questions, a bit of hurt and anger in his voice.

"You're not gonna quit are you?" You question him with a slight grimace.

"Nope." Tim shakes his head.

"I broke up with him, not my business." You shake your head. "And that's if it's about Jason. Not sure why it would be but ya know." You roll your shoulders, almost giving up on keeping this whole thing a secret from Tim, too.

"Right." Tim scoffs.

"Look," You face him in defeat. "You want me to tell you things I don't know about," Your eyes widen, a hint for him to shut up about it. "But you also won't trust me. I'm just asking you to trust me, okay?"

"Will you ever tell me?" Tim asks carefully.

If you were being honest, you think you can trust Tim to keep it all a secret. He could be on forums and showing everything he has to news outlets about Bruce being Batman and Dick being Robin and Nightwing. If he wanted to tell everyone, he could and enough people would believe him. But, he keeps it to himself besides to you because you're a Titan. So, you think maybe you'll tell him at some point when everything calms down. It's all a little dangerous right now but maybe one day you will.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But, you have got to fucking trust me."

"Alright, fine." Tim gives you a soft but triumphant smile. He's won enough for now and you know it.

That seems to be enough for Tim to drop it for now as the two of you go back to talking about everything that's not vigilante-related for once.

Jason finally starts to come to, his head heavy and throbbing. His eyes are burning as if he has the worst cold he's ever had and his vision is blurry, coming into focus a little slower than usual. His wrists are duct taped to the arms of a chair and his limbs feel too weak to even fight. He tugs just once but it's useless. He's been trained for this. He escaped that time with Deathstroke easily because it was in the training and duct tape is easy to escape from. But, he can't and the real drug has worn off. Tears start to brim his eyes and he has never felt more alone than he does right now.

He thought he could trust Crane. Him and Crane are supposed to be in this together. He said they had the same view of the city. But then Crane poisoned him. Why would he do that to him? Jason trusted him and Crane poisoned him. He knows he went behind Crane's back but Jason never did anything to hurt Crane yet Jason's the one duct taped to a chair and drugged. Jason swallows the hard lump in his throat and he should have just stayed in line.

He did it again.

He fucked it all up. He just had to go off and do his own thing with targeting Excellent Gotham, giving the drug to those random guys behind Crane's back. It's the same story over and over again, he just can't help himself and Jason wonders what the fuck is so wrong with him that he can't just stay in line. People trust him and then he pushes them away and he betrays them and he goes off on his own. Why does he always do this? It's all his fault and he trusted Crane. He really did. And he feels so alone.

Crane was the last person Jason thought he had that he could trust. Jason burned every single bridge he had with the Titans. Kory is going to be pissed and is going to take Dick's side, especially after Hank. Dawn would never trust him after what he did. Conner doesn't know him well enough. Jason has tried to kill Dick. After what happened last night with you, Jason doesn't even think Gar would help him. He's all alone. He's alone and he hates being this alone. He has no one and his mind is clear for the first time in a week. He is fucking terrified and filled with shame and regret and remorse and everything is hitting him so hard he just wants to scream. He hates it.

You were right. He does regret it. He regrets all of it. He shouldn't have gone to Crane. He shouldn't have killed Hank. He shouldn't have targeted Dick. He never should have fought you or went after the Drake's. Everything he's done, he is regretting and there's nothing he can do about it. But he remembers you saying he can call Dick. Dick is his brother. He tried to kill him but maybe you're right. You would never tell him to call Dick if you didn't know for sure. Because even when you give up, Jason knows you wouldn't risk him getting killed. He has to get out of here but he's weak and tired.

"I pity you, Jason." Crane says, but his voice is foggy as if he were down a long and distant tunnel. "You were reckless and you were impatient last night. And you act out of fear, not out of strength. You see, you're still afraid of Dick Grayson. And I failed you. I failed you as a teacher. But here's today's lesson. You know how I broke Batman? It wasn't with fear, it was with patience. I'm going to show you that you don't need to go running around Gotham, trying to destroy the Titans, you can just sit back and watch as the Titans destroy themselves."

Jason remains silent, unsure how he's even supposed to argue or if he can. It was Crane's idea to destroy the Titans anyway. Jason has just been so mad at them and felt abandoned he thought Crane was right but now he's not so sure. He can't be sure anymore. It all feels like lies. He's sobering up and everything feels like it was a lie. Just to use him.

"That's how we're going to take care of that...unpleasant girl of yours." Crane puts his hands behind his back, standing as if he owns the entire world. Jason's jaw clenches, his eyes focusing on Crane. "Patience. You wouldn't do it but you don't have to." Crane offers a kind smile and it makes Jason's skin crawl. "You see, your little act last night I'm sure really bothered her, right? You could have gotten her killed and her little friend. She has nowhere to go now, besides to the Titans and as the Titans crumble, so will she."

"That's not part of the plan." Jason chokes out, finding the energy to argue this point. "You said we'd leave her out of it."

Crane promised him from the beginning they would keep you out of it as long as you didn't side with the Titans. And you technically, did not do that. You've only been on Jason's side, just using Dick as a way to try and help him. Crane promised they would leave you out of it and you could join their side if you wanted to. Jason's getting the idea that was just a lie, too just to get him to cooperate with whatever Crane wanted to do.

"Did I?" Crane asks. "I don't think I ever said that. But," Crane sucks in a breath, leaning down to be eye-to-eye with Jason. "She threatened to kill me. She even beat me up." Crane almost sounds pitiful and hurt. "I told you, Jason. She's not on your side and she never was. Now. You can sit back and watch her destroy herself." Crane leans up, walking to the window to watch the workers.

You already gave up on him. You and him are done. There is no coming back from last night. But the panic still floods Jason's system because he knows, despite everything his mind has ever conditioned him to think, it was the hardest thing you had to do. He knows you tried to do everything besides that and he loves you anyway. He loves you anyway and he dragged you into this. He put you right in the middle of him and your friends. Your family that you tried to have. He did that to you.

Last night you said all Jason has done since coming back is hurt you, and you're right. He never meant to. He never dreamed of it hurting you but he did and now he's terrified it just got that much worse for you. You deserve better and Jason has no idea how he's supposed to get out of this.

Crane has to let him go eventually. Crane will need Jason for something and he can warn you. You told him not to contact you or Gar but maybe this will be an exception because you have to know. And maybe he can take your advice for fucking once and just call Dick. Because Crane just drugged him and is holding him hostage. Maybe he never could trust him.

It's quiet on the way back to the Manor. It's as if no one really knows what to say or how to say it. Sure, the fight went just fine just like it usually does. They make a really good team and Blackfire is a good addition to the team. But, they didn't get Crane and they didn't get Jason. Instead, Crane and Jason are in the wind but Crane was also holding Jason hostage. Something happened that led Crane to do that and Gar is the one sitting here wondering what they're going to do about it and who the hell is going to be the one to break it to you. It was Dick's bright idea for you not to come along and maybe if you would have, you could have gotten Jason. Maybe if they had one more person it would have went differently. The team is divided and Gar hates it.

"Who's gonna tell her about Jason?" Gar asks and they walk through the Batcave.

The other Titans turn to look at him, glancing between each other before landing on Dick. It's not Conner or Blackfire's place to say anything, it's not their job. That's all Kory and Dick but Dick doesn't seem like he's going to be the one to say anything. You can say you're done all you want but Dick knows if they tell you, you'll go off the rails looking for Jason. It could get you killed, Jason killed, and you could kill Crane. Even if you do find them, what's to stop Crane from kidnapping you, too? Crane clearly has a way to do it if he can do it to Jason. And what if it's a trap? What if Jason isn't being held captive but it's a way to get the Titans to a different location? Telling you seems like it might just be a bad idea and in your best interest for your own safety.

"We don't have to tell her." Dick says.

Gar's eyes nearly bulge out of his head. "Seriously, dude?" Gar scoffs. "It's Jason. She's going to be pissed if she finds out and we didn't tell her."

"She decided she doesn't want any part of this anymore and I think that's for the best. If we tell her, we don't know what she'll do. We still need Crane." Dick argues, keeping it short.

"Screw that, man." Gar groans. "He took Jason and we know he did. There was proof of it back there. If something happens to him, she's gonna never forgive any of us. Let her decide if she wants back in."

"He's right, Gar. She's been a little bit of loose canon lately." Kory offers kindly.

Gar is also tired of the secrets. All keeping secrets from each other has done is get them hurt. That's all it's done and now they want to keep this huge thing from you? That's insane. You have every right to know and he doesn't understand why they would want to keep it from you. Maybe you'll explode but it's not like anyone else is going to go save Jason. What if he actually is in danger?

"Because of everything that's happened!" Gar defends, tossing his arms out to his sides. "If you guys were in her shoes, you'd probably be loose canons, too! I mean, Dick has been going off on his own most of the time. Bruce even snapped. And we just have to pretend like everything is normal?"

"I mean..." Conner chimes in. "She didn't tell us he was alive."

"Yeah, and that sucked but she was scared for his life. It sucks but at least I get it. And it was one day! What is keeping this from her going to do?"

Dick crosses his arms and he's really missing the days where the only problems he had were Jason and you pulling some dumb prank just to harass him. "Do you think she'll sit back and let us handle it or do you think she's going to take it into her own hands?"

Gar knows you will. It's Jason but Gar also knows that if it were him, you would do the same thing. The only reason you didn't come after him by yourself with CADMUS is because you didn't know how to and it was CADMUS not just one person. But, Gar also got the story about you being the driving force to make sure you all saved him, regardless of what was happening to Dick. Gar was the first priority. You're going to take this into your own hands but at this point, Gar is ready to jump right in with you. Jason came to save him.

"I know." Gar shrugs. "But what if she doesn't? What if she asks for help this time? We just don't even give her the option?"

"That could get her killed. It's for her own protection." Kory says.

"Well, that sucks." Gar snaps. "Keeping secrets from each other doesn't keep any of us safe." Gar scoffs as he goes to leave.

Now he knows how you feel. Arguing with them is exhausting. They won't even listen. It's either whatever they want to do or nothing. That's normally fine. Gar normally agrees and Dick and Kory usually do know better but not this time. This time it's wrong, for your own protection or not.

"Gar." Dick calls.

Gar turns around quickly, a look of defeat on his face. "If she asks, I'm not gonna lie." Gar shrugs his shoulders before he turns away and heads upstairs.

Gar finds you in the kitchen, rummaging through the cabinets for food. He wonders if this is what it felt like when you knew Jason was alive. His stomach feels like it might fall right to his feet, heavy with guilt. He wonders if you were also mad at him for asking you to keep it a secret because Gar's mad at Dick and Kory. It really fucking sucks and Gar wonders how the hell you even manage to keep everything a secret. He's been standing here for just a few seconds and he already wants to snap and spill everything. Maybe that's why you've been a bit off, because this just sucks and it's heavy.

You pop your head out from behind the cabinet door, a granola bar sticking out of your mouth, feeling someone had entered the kitchen. "Hey." You greet as you pluck the bar from your mouth.

"What are you doing?" Gar questions.

"Looking for food. Hospital food sucks." You say softly. "I guess." You mutter quietly as you pluck a box of Mac and cheese from the cabinet, a displeased look on your face.

"Don't you like that?" Gar asks, entering further into the kitchen.

"Yeah," You sigh. "Just not feeling it but I don't wanna go through the effort of making anything else or looking." You look at the box and back to Gar. "Is there real milk in this?"

"Uh, yeah." Gar chuckles, sticking his hands in his jacket pockets. "Why?"

"Could have made it with the vegan butter and oat milk if you wanted some but never mind, I guess." You sigh, moving to the cabinet with the pots. But the room goes oddly silent, making you look back at Gar. He's just standing there, watching you. "What happened?" You ask as you turn around, leaning against the counter.

Gar shifts his weight on his feet. "What makes you think something happened?" Gar asks softly.

"You have a look and you're quiet. You didn't point out Bruce probably has vegan Mac and cheese somewhere or Dick probably pick some up for you." You explain. "I can always tell with you and Jason when something's wrong."

You watch as Gar looks to the ground and you're terrified what's going to come out of his mouth. Jason can't be dead again because Gar probably would be crying right now but he's not and his eyes aren't red which means he isn't sucking it up for your sake. The other Titans are probably fine because Gar wouldn't be so hesitant to tell you if something happened to them. So, you have to assume it has to do with Jason and there's a small part of you that thinks the Titans won this time and they sent Jason to Arkham instead of bringing him home. You swear you'll lose it if that's what happened.

"Um..." Gar scratches the back of his neck as he looks back to you. "Can you promise not to freak out?"

"I can't promise that." You shake your head as you brace for whatever bullshit Gar is gonna say next. "Jason, right? Something happened?"

Gar nods softly. "By the time we got to the office where Crane and Jason were, they were gone. But, we think Crane had Jason duct taped to a chair and took him with him."

You blink a few times and you swear you just forgot how to breathe. Not again. This cannot possibly be happening again.

"C-crane...you-I mean...you guys think C-Crane kidnapped him?" You sputter.

Gar nods. "Yeah."

Jason said you're the one with a habit of getting kidnapped but so far, you're both two to two here. And you hate it. Why the fuck would Crane need to kidnap him in the first place? If they're working together, then Crane has no reason to. Unless Jason is actually turning on him. In which case, it just got really dangerous to be Jason Todd.

"Do you know where they went?" You ask, trying to keep your voice level.

"No." Gar answers shamefully.

You offer a large nod as your appetite vanishes. You push from the counter, leaving the box and pot on the counter. "Thanks for telling me." You say as you walk up to Gar. "You guys aren't going to look for him, are you? And Dick said not to tell me, right?"

Gar nods once more, letting out a deep breath. "Dick thinks it could be a trap and yeah, he's worried what you'll do."

"Got it." You let out a scoff with a bitter chuckle.

All you can hear is Tim in the back of your head about how you're supposed to be a hero. Well, so is Dick. You think that word is starting to lose its fucking meaning because what kind of hero just lets a psychopath kidnap someone? You know it's more complicated than that but they're brothers and Jason was kidnapped. Again. It was fine the first time, but what? Round two and he's on his own? Is that how it is?

"You're gonna go, aren't you?" Gar asks.

"Yeah, and if Dick's gotta fucking problem with it, he'll have to go through me. I'm not letting Crane kidnap Jason and hold him fucking hostage. I don't care." You shake your head, venom shooting through your words.

There's a bit of relief that fills Gar's chest. Maybe Dick is right and it's a trap but what if it's not? Deathstroke and Dr. Light could have been a trap, it kind of was. But, Dick went anyway to save Jason and you. Trap or not, you all should be trying to find Jason and help him just in case it's not a trap.

"Can, uh, can I help?" Gar asks, making you do a double take.

Gar tends to do what Dick asks, especially since the whole Deathstroke thing and you both accidentally losing Conner for a day. You kind of figured he wouldn't try to really stop you because that would be useless but you thought maybe he'd offer some voice of reason. The last thing you ever expected was Gar to ask if he could help, despite Dick's wishes.

"Huh?" You hum, eyes wide. "What?"

"He's my friend, too." Gar shrugs. "And he came to save me. I wanna help find him." Gar lets out a breath, eyes hopeful you'll let him help.

"Yeah, uh...I mean...it could be a trap. I mean...are you sure? Dick is gonna be pissed." You furrow your brows, still eying him with confusion.

"I know." Gar nods. "But, I don't want you doing this alone either in case it is a trap or something happens like last time. I just wanna help. We can't let Crane hold him hostage."

You nod quickly, figuring maybe it would be nice to not do this completely alone. "Okay, but, can you stay here? I might have to do some stuff you don't like and if it is a trap, we might be fucked." You say and Gar is about to protest. "No, no, I have an idea. Follow me." You gesture for him to follow you as you walk past him.

You and Gar walk to Jason's room, you shutting and locking the door behind you. You go to one of Jason's hiding spots and grab the tablet. You always put it back, exactly where he kept it, just in case. You unlock the tablet and go to the software used to track your necklace. The tracking device is only synced with his tablet and his phone since you hated the idea of Bruce being able to track you. Jason was always fine.

"Here." You hand it over, showing a green blinking dot right on top of Wayne Manor. "You track me. My phone is synced to the Batcomputer. I'll text you every hour on the hour. If I miss, you call and if I don't call back in thirty seconds, get Dick. Something went wrong."

"Why do you know about this and just why?" Gar asks, confused as to what's even going on. "Why can't I go with?"

"Because Jason is a shithead who was lying to me before he died. I know where all of his hiding spots are and he knows where all of mine are. I, apparently, am the one with a habit of being kidnapped but I didn't want Bruce involved. Jason swore he'd always come find me." You shrug casually. "So, you track me and then we know where he is. And then maybe we tell Dick where they're hiding out. See, everyone wins. If you're with me and we both get kidnapped then Crane has all three of us and Dick and Kory won't know where to go. I need someone here, just in case." You explain quickly.

It's not a lie, it's true. You've put some thought into the vigilante life after all of this is sorted out, hoping things go back to some form of normal. It's dangerous to be out there as a team and alone. It's dangerous both ways and it's dangerous to have people know but, you think it might be worse for you to be alone out there and no one know where you are or what you're doing. Having someone be eyes and ears behind a screen seems like it might be helpful, especially if something goes wrong.

"Right, okay, yeah." Gar nods and this isn't really what he meant by helping but you have a point. At least this way, if something happens, it's not the three of you stuck in a bad situation with no one knowing where you are. At least they'll know where to find you and Jason. "You're gonna call if things start looking bad, right?" Gar asks as you remain silent, moving your eyes from the left to the right before landing back on Gar. "Dr. Light? Deathstroke?" Gar presses, narrowing his eyes slightly.

"Fine." You nod your head quickly. "If it starts looking like it might go even a little south, I'll call you. But, I don't even know if I'll be able to find him."

"What're you gonna do?"

"I know a few people I can grab, try to get some intell on where Red Hood and Crane would go. Someone knows and they'll start talking."

Gar lets out a sigh, deciding it's best he doesn't know what you're going to do to them. Maybe him staying back is a good idea if you think that's the only way to find him. If anyone is gonna know how to work around Gothamites, it'll be you.

"They in Batcave?" You ask as you head for the door.

"Yeah."

"Great." You suck in a breath. "Okay, I'm going to get my suit and find him. If he asks, you can tell Dick you're helping but try not to show him, please. He'll come after me and probably fuck it up. If Crane has him hostage, I can get through to Jason."

"Are you going to bring him back?" Gar asks, a bit of hope in his eyes.

"Not if he doesn't ask." You shake your head. "If Crane had to duct tape him to a chair that means Jason isn't siding with him as much anymore. While I feel guilty and I hate myself for last night," You shake your head. "Maybe that does have something to do with it." You start the walk to the Batcave. "He has to make the decision on his own. As much as it fucking sucks." You scoff. "Okay, I'll be back later. Every hour." You nod once before you dart behind the grandfather clock.

You walk right over to the display with your suit, ripping the case open as you grab Dick's and Kory's attention. If they want to work this alone and not save him, fine. But that's not you and they're not stopping you.

"Where are you going?" Kory asks.

You spin around and you shrug your shoulders sadly. "To save Jason." You answer simply.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" Kory asks and they really should have known Gar was going to tell you immediately.

"You're staying here. We don't--"

"I don't care." You roll your eyes as you cut Dick off. "Do you really want to tell me to just...let Crane kidnap him? Me? Of all people?" You ask.

"It could be a trap." Dick argues and he's also tired of this back and forth. He's never met anyone so hardheaded. Why can't you just listen? Just once?

"Yeah, maybe." You shrug softly. "And that's a risk I am willing to take because I give a fuck about him." You snip right back. It almost feels like you're arguing with your parents.

"You could get hurt or worse." Kory states. "For all we know, this is what Crane and Jason want."

"It's not safe." Dick says. "We can't risk it. You don't know what you'll be walking into."

"I don't fucking care if I get hurt!" Your voice cracks with frustration. "That's part of the job! Getting hurt to keep people, innocent strangers safe. You think I'm not gonna risk getting a little hurt to save someone I actually care about? I love him anyway and I'm going to save him." You let out a bitter scoff. "You know, Tim said something to me last night. I didn't tell him shit, don't worry. But, he said that I'm supposed to be a hero." You shake your head. "And he's fucking right, ya know? It's just complicated but look at you guys. We're supposed to be heroes! And you're all just gonna...sit back? Let whatever happens, happen? No, fuck that. I did that last time and we see what fucking happened."

"We aren't sitting back." Dick says sternly. "We've been trying to bring home this whole time but he clearly, doesn't want that. He dug his hole and he has to deal with it. He made his choice."

"I'm not going back and forth about it anymore. Just...what is it? I mean, Deathstroke, was it just that you felt you had our blood on your hands? So, you were obligated to do something? And now that Jason's kidnapping doesn't have shit to do with you, your hands are clean? Is that what this is? Why not try to fucking save him?! You know Crane. Crane could have snapped and then...what? That's just it. One less body to deal with."

"Hey!" Kory scolds. "You know that is not what this is. We all have given Jason a fair chance but Dick's right he made his choice. He knows how bad Crane can be."

"That doesn't make it okay." You say quietly. "I made a promise to him and I broke one of those. I'm not breaking another one tonight. He is not Robin anymore so if Crane wants to go after him, he gets to deal with me and if you have such a fucking problem with that, I guess you can try to stop me but I'm going." You turn back around, grabbing your suit before you slam the case closed. "I was wrong about what I said about trying. Sometimes, it isn't enough. But, at least I'm fucking trying. Unlike you guys."

Dick lets out an exasperated sigh. "You don't know when to quit do you?"

You shake your head, the corner of your mouth perking up. "Not when it comes to people I happen to like." You spin around, suit in hand and you head off to change and leave.

"You know, she handled that well actually." Kory says softly. "All things considered."

"Yeah." Dick scoffs. "That's the worrying part."

You head off on the bike once you're suited up. You get to Crime Alley figuring that might be your best bet for any type of answer. You use your phone to look into the men you killed last night and see what their ties could be to Red Hood and Scarecrow. Their files don't have too much but they are a few notes about people the three of them used to run with so you figure you can start there. Someone knows where Red Hood and Scarecrow would be. This is Gotham and they're in the drug trade.

You track one of the men down, following him carefully from the rooftops and waiting for the right moment to confront him. The whole rooftop thing might have actually been a good idea, you will give Bruce that one. You wait until an alley with almost no lighting comes up. So, you take your opportunity to get down from the rooftops and beat him to the alley. Just as he approaches, you yank him into the alleyway, slamming him against the wet brick as hard as you can.

"Where is Red Hood?" You seethe, your teeth grinding under your mask,

The man looks down at you as your arm is pressed against his throat. "How the fuck would I know?"

You pull back just enough to shove him against the wall, this time his head bangs against the wet bricks. "Bullshit. You know where he's hiding out. Him and Scarecrow, fucking spill."

"Fuck you." He spits.

You do not have time for this. You're done arguing and going back and forth with people. All he has to do is give up a name or a place. It's not that hard. So, you pull out a knife and hold it right to his jugular.

"Do you wanna end up like your friends? It's all pretty easy to make happen." You press the tip of the knife into his skin, just enough to break skin and blood starts leaking down his neck.

His eyes widen, filled with panic. "I don't know!"

"Bullshit!" You yell back, doing your best to refrain from pressing the knife further into his neck. "Red Hood was able to get your friends which means there has to be some sort of connection. Tell me where he is."

"I don't know!" The man's voice is panicked. "Jeremiah! Word is he has an in with Red Hood and Scarecrow for whatever they're cooking."

"And where the fuck would he be?" You almost mock him. A name is fine but come on.

"Robinson Park!" He yells back, the panic leaking from his pores. "He's been dealing there."

"Thank you." You pat the man's cheek. "Was that so fucking hard?" You scoff, dropping the man. "Seriously, get your shit together and do something more productive." You roll your eyes as you shoot the grappling hook to the rooftop, leaving the man alone in the alley.

You reach Robinson Park and give Gar a quick text to let him know everything is fine. Then, you make your way inside of the park to look for this Jeremiah guy. You were able to figure out what he looks like thanks to him and the guy you just grabbed having been busted for dealing just a few months ago.

It doesn't take you too long to find him near a bridge. That's where you sneak up behind him and grab him, slamming him against the cement just as you did with the previous guy. You're hoping he'll be willing to spill a little quick but you're also betting you're not going to get that lucky tonight.

"Red Hood. Where is he?" You ask with fire in your words.

Jeremiah laughs. "You think I'm gonna tell you? You're a fucking bat--"

You yank your fist back and punch him in the face. He spits blood out by your boots, looking back at you with fury. "I am not a fucking bat." You say through gritted teeth. "I will burn you alive limb by fucking limb until you spill where Red Hood is."

"Yeah? And uh, what makes you think I even know?" He gives you this grin that makes you want to scream.

"Word is you have an in for the drug him and Scarecrow are putting on the streets. I assume it was a test run last night. Unless, you're full of shit just trying to get some weird ass respect." You quip, tilting your head to the right.

"I'm not telling you shit." He scoffs.

"You know, Red Hood decapitated six men, right? Of some of Gotham's most notorious families in the business. Yeah, I can be worse. And I will start with you." You tug your glove off with your other hand, still keeping pressure on his neck. You show the neon green so bright it illuminates your face. Jeremiah watches you before you touch a finger to his face, he lets out a horrendous scream, echoing through the tunnel under the bridge. "Every limb but I won't kill you. I'll let infection set in and that can kill you. Tell me where the fuck he is!"

Jeremiah lets out a sigh, gritting his teeth. "There's that old ice cream factory. They were cooking there."

"They're not there. Titans showed up tonight. Where else would they go?"

"Aren't you a fucking Titan?" He sneers.

"Does it really seem like I'm a Titan?" You narrow your eyes at him.

"There's the old Wellington pump station. Heard they had a hookup there." Jeremiah says reluctantly. "I don't fucking know anything else."

"Thank you." You let go of him as he falls to the ground. "You know, you should also get your shit together. I know you deal to kids. Stop or I will actually kill you. Leave kids the out of it." You roll your eyes, earning yourself a confused look as you walk out of the tunnel.

Once you get back to your bike, you head right to the pump station. The drive feels like it takes an eternity when it only takes twenty minutes. You're growing more anxious as more time goes by. You don't know how long Crane has had him tied up for or what he's doing to even keep Jason tied up. Jason should be able to get out of duct tape. So, you worry as every minute passes by.

The closer you get to the building, the more you start to remember what it was like the night he died. The drive and how it was freezing but you didn't even notice because you were so panicked. You were going to save him but you were too late. Every second from the phone call to Molly until you passed out is embedded into the deepest parts of your mind, tattooed and stitched as cruel reminders of the world you live in sometimes. You can't forget but you're trying to save Jason again and it's like you're thrown back into that night all over again.

It can't end like that again.

It can't.

When you get to the pump station, you park far off in the old parking lot before making your way to the back of the building. You use your grappling hook to get to the roof where you find a skylight looking into the building. That's when you spot Jason, now tied to a chair. Crane is walking around, throwing his hands around dramatically but there seems to be a pep in his step, as if he's happy or excited about something. You roll your eyes. He's so fucking insane.

A part of you does question if this is a trap. Jason is faster and stronger than Crane. Jason should have been able to escape. He has all of the training and he can easily take Crane. It doesn't even look like Crane is armed but you know Jason is. It doesn't make a lot of sense but you're watching carefully and Jason doesn't even seem to be partaking in whatever nonsense Crane is on about. So, you brush the thought of it being a trap away and think maybe Crane drugged him. That would explain everything. Trap or not, you're getting into this building and you're grabbing Jason.

You try to look at everything surrounding them and the drum barrels on the catwalk. All you need to do is distract Crane long enough to get Jason free. That's the point. It's not so much a rescue mission as it is just getting him free. If you can get him free and he can walk, he can escape Crane if it comes to that. Then, you spot an alarm sitting far off on the back wall and you have an idea.

"Hey, you at the Batcomputer?" You whisper into the phone.

"Uh...yeah, yeah, why? What's up?" Gar wheels himself closer to the keyboard, looking at the screens.

"Crane has Jason tied up. I'm at a pump station but I can see an alarm of some sort, not a fire alarm. Is there any way to like...trigger it from where you are?" You ask.

"I can try, hold on." Gar says as he starts typing away.

"Or trigger anything to distract Crane so I can grab Jason."

"How long do you need?"

"Three minutes, tops." You keep watch as Jason's head nods softly as if he's trying to stay awake and failing miserably.

"Okay, yeah, there's an alarm system that's still active in the building. I can set it off but as soon as Crane disables it, that'll be it. So, you have to be quick." Gar explains, getting into the building's security system.

"Okay, yeah. Quick, got it." You nod your head. "Ready when you are."

"Hang up and I'll trigger it. Text me when you get somewhere safe."

"Of course, thank you." You say softly before you hang up.

You grab a knife from your belt and start working on the lock to the skylight. Luckily, this was a part of Jason's training. Lock-picking. Of course it was. As soon as you have the lock picked and the window ready to be opened, you hear the blaring of an alarm.

Jason and Crane both jump, looking around as the noise echoes and bounces off of the walls. Crane looks to grow more and more annoyed before he storms off and that's when you make your move. You open the window, using the grappling hook to lower yourself down as quickly as possible.

Once your feet touch solid ground, you yank the hook loose and run to Jason, immediately bending down to be face-to-face with him. His pupils are blown and he's barely awake but his eyes widen just a little, trying to make you out. It's blurry but he swears it's you. That can't be right. Why the hell would you come?

You swear you find yourself hating Crane more and more by the second. You shake your head and grab a knife, cutting Jason's hands free before you come to his face again.

"Jay? Can you walk?" You ask quietly, just loud enough so he can hear you above the alarm. But all Jason does is stare at you and he just can't believe you're really in front of him right now. Maybe he's hallucinating. "Jay?" You place your hands on his cheeks. "Hey, can you walk?"

It's you. You came.

Jason nods weakly and he thinks he might burst at the seams. He thought he was alone.

"Come on." You help him up.

Jason's arm rests over your shoulders as the two of you head to the exit, opposite the way Crane went. Jason's footing is a little unsteady but he tries his best while you keep him stable, one arm wrapped around him and the other holding his arm around your shoulders.

The entire walk to your bike has Jason's head spinning, both from the high and the confusion of you showing up in the first place. You broke up with him and you gave up on him. His head might be foggy and he might be out of it right now, but he knows that happened. And yet you're here anyway. Not Dick or Kory or Gar. It's you who showed up. Maybe you shouldn't have but you did. And even in this state, Jason thinks maybe it was still a hard decision, given what happened last night...and the last time you found him. But, you showed up anyway and he does not deserve that.

Every part of you wants to explode like a volcano. It wasn't fucking a trap. Crane drugged him and tied him up so he couldn't fucking leave. That's what happened. Dick and Kory, they were wrong. They were fine letting Jason suffer over a what if situation. You just grabbed him without any damn problems. All you needed was a little help from Gar. it was fine. It went fine but who knows what Crane's plan for the rest of the night was. This could have gone so much worse for him and Dick and Kory just didn't care. They didn't care enough to try.

And then there's Crane. It just drives you insane. Jason got himself wrapped up in this but he doesn't deserve to be drugged and held hostage. You swear people in general don't really don't deserve it. But, now it's happened to Jason and you think maybe you shouldn't leave him again. Every part of you doesn't want to leave him again.

"Can you hold on?" You ask as you reach your bike.

"Uh..." Jason sucks in a breath before he nods. "Yeah, got it." He mutters, his words slurring together slightly.

"Where do you wanna go?" You ask, biting down your own hope that he'll say the manor.

Jason's heart rate spikes for a quick second with the question and for that split second, he almost spits out manor. But, that second is just that, a second. He can't go back. Not like this. Not now. If they want to turn him in, he can't run or defend himself and he's not putting you in that position anymore. So, he tells you another hideout he has and you just nod, all hopes of bringing him back fading away.

"I'll go slow." You say softly as you get on the bike first, Jason wobbly getting on behind you.

You bend uncomfortably around, popping the spare helmet on his head. You slide the face shield down before turning back around and grabbing his arms to wrap around you. Once your own helmet is on, you take off, leaving the pump station in the rearview mirrors.

When you reach the hideout, you help Jason inside and upstairs with his directions. You reach the room that contains a mattress, an old broken dresser, and a few lamps scattered about the floor. You help Jason over to the bed and help him to sit down.

Jason sits with his knees bent, feet planted on the floor and his eyes locked on you. He just can't believe this is real. He still thinks he might be hallucinating or maybe he's just having a really vivid dream.

"Are you okay?" You ask as you kneel in front of him, resting your hands on his knees but Jason's head sways. "Jay?"

Everything hurts and it's spinning. And his chest hurts, the lump in his throat hurts. Every piece of his body is aching and burning and heavy, exhausted. But, you're here, right in front of him. You broke up with him last night and you gave up but you're right in front of him and he is so thankful. Why are you here? He doesn't deserve it.

Jason reaches forward, tugging your mask off of your face as if just to make sure it's you. "You came." His brows pull together as if he's in pain.

Your heart breaks at the surprise and tenderness of his voice. He really thought you wouldn't? You know what you said but...does he think it's that easy?

"I'll always come to save you." You whisper, your eyes watering as they scan over his face.

Jason can feel his bottom lip start to quiver. He really fucked it all up and he's high and it's the worst high of his life. It all sucks and you're here and he doesn't know why. He wants to take it all back. He wants to turn back time and take everything back. He wants to go back to that day in your room when you were the one that told him loving him is the easiest thing you'd ever done because he knows that isn't true anymore. And it is breaking him.

"But you..." Jason chokes on his own words. "You said you were fucking done and--"

"Doesn't matter." You shake your head, cutting him off. You search his face until his eyes meet yours. Jason thinks you've never looked sadder. "If someone's going to hurt you or kidnap you, they're gonna have to deal with me." Your voice is candid but there's a weight of heartbreak etched in every syllable.

He doesn't deserve it and Crane betrayed him and hurt him. Another person he trusted hurt him and yeah, he went behind Crane's back first but did he deserve this? And you're the one still offering him kindness through everything. He could have gotten you killed, twice, and you're sitting in front of him with sad but kind eyes and Jason hates who he's becoming.

Jason sucks in a shaky breath and there's a part of him that can't do it anymore. He can't deal with the heaviness or the way his chest feels like it's going to collapse in on itself. He can't deal with the spinning or the numbness or any of it. His head bows forward slowly until his forehead lands on your shoulder. Tears start to fall from his eyes and everything around him is fucked up and a mess and it's all his fault. Why did he do this? What has he become? Was he better off dead?

Maybe he was better off dead.

Your teeth grit together as you hear him sniffle and feel him shake. Hitting rock bottom shouldn't be like this because it's him. If only he knew that he always deserved better and believed it. Maybe if he was treated better from the beginning. Maybe if trying would have just been enough the first time around.

"Jay." You whisper, hearing a soft cry come from Jason's throat. "It's okay." You say softly, moving away just enough to get him to pick his head up. You shake your head at him, brows knitted together. "It's okay." You say again but this time you move closer and pull him into a hug and that's when Jason finally breaks entirely.

He's hurt so many people. And for what? He can feel the itch of withdrawal and the migraine kicking in. He wants to peel his skin off of his bones but his chest hurts and he doesn't think he can breathe. He sucks in a breath but all that comes from it is a cough and a cry. He wraps his arms around you and he feels you hug him tighter. Why are you doing this? He doesn't deserve it. Why did you even save him? Maybe he shouldn't be saved. Maybe Joker had it right the first time. Hank would be alive. Tim's dad would be okay. You wouldn't be mixed up in this. Dick wouldn't have been shot. Maybe it would be better if he had just stayed dead.

It feels that way anyway.

It's like a pull he can feel in the marrow of his bones, The betrayal to fate. He has no business being alive and he can feel it. Maybe that's how it should be. He was never very good at being good anyway and if he's no good, what's the point? He's more fucked up than he ever was before. Why does he bother trying? He should just be alone, it's what he deserves.

But, there's this voice in the back of his head that says maybe it's just the high this time. Whatever Crane has him on maybe it's messing with his head, maybe it's that and the betrayal of the night. Maybe it's the withdrawal. Maybe it's just a mix of everything.

So, he pulls away and your hands come to his face and it's like an instinct. There's no effort in you showing up and caring about him because you just do. And it's right now with your thumbs, rubbing the warm tears away that Jason starts to wonder if this is unconditional. There were always conditions to people loving him and he thought maybe yours was just that he was three for you, or maybe Crane was right about you using him. Maybe it was just that you felt obligated to him because of Deathstroke. But, he almost got you killed and you fought and he killed Hank and you're sitting in front of him, helping him as if it is the easiest thing you've ever done. You just do it and maybe that's unconditional, even when someone says they give up.

Jason's breath is shallow and ragged and he just can't breathe. He wants to remember what it feels like to breathe again. To breathe effortlessly.

"Hard to breathe." Jason mutters, tears slowly falling down his cheeks.

You nod your head before you rest your forehead against his. Your eyes close and you just sit like that. Jason's eyes close a few seconds later and he always wonders how you know what to do and say. No one ever did. Not like this. But, you do this and the act of you being there, in this moment, without even saying a word, gets Jason to suck in a full breath for the first time tonight. His tears start to slow down and the brutal thoughts about himself start to grow quiet. The only sound he can hear is his own breathing and the cars passing outside. He never thought silence could be so comforting.

You aren't sure if this night changes anything. Maybe he'll go right back to Crane but maybe he won't. Maybe tonight and last night stacked on top of each other is enough to get Jason back on solid ground. Maybe he's tired of drowning. You're hoping he's tired of it. And even if not, for tonight, you're going to let yourself believe he is. Because he was the one kidnapped and held hostage and betrayed. He was the one left alone and the only people willing to help him were you and Gar. Maybe letting him hit rock bottom was a good enough idea, but maybe you aren't willing to follow through with it. Not if it leads him here. There has to be another way.

There is always another way.

You pull away once Jason's breathing seems to be back to normal. "You okay?" You whisper, Jason seeing your own eyes turning a light shade of pink.

"I'm so fucking sorry." Jason coughs out. "For fucking everything."

"I know." You nod your head quickly, brows pulling together.

"No," Jason spits and he hates how his mouth feels like he's tried to swallow thirty cotton balls. "You don't fucking deserve it. None of you do. I'm so sorry." Jason's voice is pleading and begging and you wish you could take out of your own heart and replace it with his just to ease some of his pain.

"Jay, you're high. We can talk about it later, okay?" You nod your head. "Come on, let's get you to bed, okay? You gotta sleep it off. I don't know what he gave you." Your hands slide off of his face and back to his knees.

You would love to discuss this now but you're not sure how much of this he'll even remember when the high wears off. If you're going to talk, you want him to be sober. This isn't actually his fault this time but you still want him to be sober.

Jason nods his head, feeling more defeated than he already was. He's thinking you really mean it. You really are done and you really are giving up on him. You were just there so Crane didn't go too far and kill him. And he wants to take it all back.

"Hey, I promise, okay?" You nod your head softly, seeing the deflated look on his face. "We can talk tomorrow if you still want to, promise." You offer a subtle but reassuring smile and that seems to do the trick.

Jason nods softly again and accepts it. He's exhausted anyway and maybe him spuing apology after apology like this isn't going to get either of you anymore. Maybe you're right. He just hopes you mean it.

"Want help?" You ask.

Jason shakes his head, tugging his jacket off sloppily before telling you his spare clothes are in the broken dresser in the corner. You grab him a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from the drawer before moving back over to him. Jason struggles more and more trying to get the hoodie off, his limbs failing him as he grows defeated and exhausted. The breaking really used up all of his remaining energy.

"Lemme help." You rest the clothes beside him before you tug the hoodie off gently.

You help him take the armor off next, leaving him in a black tank top. And that's when you see two scars peaking out of the very edges of the tank top on his chest. Your heart plummets remembering exactly what he looked like after the autopsy. His face was mangled and pale, blood long cleaned off of his body and the stitches trailing from his chest down his abdomen. You wonder why those didn't heal but the marks on his face did. But, your heart breaks because now he's permanently marked with what happened to him. He'll never be able to forget it anyway, but now he has a physical reminder and that's just not fair. At least he can probably dye his hair if he wants but there's nothing to do about the scars.

Why did it have to happen to him?

You glance to his face, his eyes drooping and then you look at the white streak of hair. Jason said he thinks it's lame and you wonder what he thinks of the scars. You think he probably hates those, too. Another reminder. And you want to say something but what the hell are you supposed to say? Yeah, sorry Bruce had an autopsy performed? Didn't think you'd come back from the dead? That's ridiculous. But, you also can feel his stare falling back on you and he starts to shift. Not saying anything, that's always an option with him. You don't have to.

So, you don't. Instead, you just trace over them because that's what you always do to his scars. And Jason thinks he might cry again. He hates those fucking scars. The white streak he can deal with, but those scars? Why did Bruce even have it done? Was it not fucking obvious what the cause of death was? He was brutally murdered by a crowbar to the face, something he'll never forget, and now he has fucking autopsy scars. Those are a little hard to explain. At least if he had crowbar scars, they could be explained by a mugging. The white streak is just a choice. Autopsy scars? There's no normal explanation for those. But, then you run your thumbs over the scars anyway as if they're any other scar and Jason wants to combust. He thinks he might burst into flames right under your fingertips.

You offer a small but kind smile before you help him take his boots off. And something about him not refusing your help this time is kind of reassuring for once. Usually, Jason would be telling you he can do it himself and he's fine but now he's just quiet. A part of that is concerning but him letting you help without protest is nice and maybe he's coming around. Maybe he is off the drug.

Once Jason is out of his Red Hood gear, you help him get the other hoodie and pants on before Jason finally lays down. His head spins but his back starts to cramp in just the right way that starts to feel good. And all he wants to do is sleep this whole thing off.

You offer him a sad smile, resting your hand on his cheek. "Okay, I'm gonna head out. Call Dick if you change your mind and you wanna come home." You whisper before you go to stand up.

You don't really intend to leave. You figure you'll just go downstairs until he wakes up and then you can go from there. You don't want to overstep by staying here with him if he's not going to ask. At the end of the day, he's out of it and it's not really your place right now. Even if the very thought of leaving him alone makes you want to burst into tears.

Jason doesn't even think before he grabs your hand as you pull it away from his cheek. You haven't even gotten up. Your other hand is on your knee to help yourself up and you're looking at Jason, one brow raised and waiting. He doesn't want to be alone. Not this time. Just for tonight, he can't be alone.

"Can you stay...please?" Jason lets go of your hand, eyes looking up you, sad and pitiful.

It's like a knife is shoved through your ribs and right into your heart. How the hell could you ever say no to that? Jason Todd rarely asks people to stay and you already left him once. You're not doing it again. There will be another way because this? This isn't it. This is torture for him and for you and there is another way. You're not leaving him alone so you nod.

"Okay." You nod your head and Jason moves over. You sit down, moving the pillow up against the wall so you can lean against the wall comfortably. "You can lay down." You say softly, gesturing to your lap. "I can play with your hair until you fall asleep."

Jason eyes up you, barely keeping his eyes open but there's a warmth that consumes his chest this time. "Thanks for everything." He has no idea how he'll ever be able to repay you. But, he is so thankful you're here and that he's not alone.

"You and me." You say right back as Jason lays his head down in your lap.

Tears prick his eyes as they close because it's still you and him. Somehow, against all odds, it's the two you. He does not deserve it but he's thankful and he loves you. His head is pounding and throbbing, dizzy and foggy but he finds himself thinking maybe he's done with Crane. After everything tonight and having you still show up, maybe you're right. You've tried to save him this whole time but all he's done is push. You stayed for him, at the very least, maybe he can try to stay for you and then himself. Even if it's too late to salvage anything between you.

Your fingers tangle through the white streak of hair, lightly rubbing his scalp and you think this feels normal. Some part of this feels normal and maybe you're starting to hope it can go back to normal if he comes back to the manor. Maybe he can forgive you. You forgive him. You forgave him the second you saw the look of withdrawal on his face. You forgave him for everything else the second your own high wore off. Maybe if he calls Dick, if he's really off of the drug, maybe it can go to normal and maybe Molly's right. Maybe you can find a way back.

You plead for you and Jason to be able to find your way back.

It doesn't take long for the exhaustion to take over and send Jason into a deep sleep. You can always tell when he really falls asleep because his leg twitches and then his entire body relaxes as if it's the only time he can really breathe. It's as if being awake is just too hard sometimes so when sleep does take over, his entire body just collapses on itself. You desperately wish it weren't so hard for him. It's not really your job anymore, but if there were a way to make it easier for him, you'd do it in a heartbeat.

"Hey." You whisper into the phone, your hand still running through Jason's hair.

"Is everything okay?" Gar asks quickly.

"We've been worried." Kory adds in and you figure you're on speaker and you wonder when Gar decided to loop them in.

"Yeah, everything's fine. Crane drugged him. He's asleep now." You watch the white fall over your fingers and then through them. His arm is draped lazily over your legs but keeping you in place and you wonder if it still feels safe like this for him. It does for you.

"He's asleep?" Dick questions and you think there might even be a softness to his voice.

"Yes." You answer back. "Whatever Crane drugged him with was enough to subdue him and now he's tired. So, he's asleep."

"Is that what he told you?" Dick asks and you just roll your eyes.

"No, but I could tell given he was tied to a chair and I had to help him walk. He was drugged." You mutter sternly, trying to keep your voice down.

"Is he okay?" Kory asks and you can hear the worry in her voice.

You keep your eyes on him and it's the same answer. It's always the same answer and you really, really hope one day it'll change.

"No." You answer. "He's not. But I got him."

Gar can hear the bitterness mixing with heartbreak in your tone. He's relieved you were able to get Jason and setting off the alarms works. He's a little surprised it worked since the three of you together don't seem to have the best of luck. But, you have Jason now and he knows you fought with Dick and Kory before leaving, about them not helping. Gar isn't sure you're going to be so willing to come back, especially if you're getting through to Jason.

"You're not coming back, are you?" Gar asks.

You swallow thickly. "No, I gotta stay. I can't leave him like this. But, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Did he tell you anything before he passed out?" Dick asks.

"He said he was really sorry but he, uh, he was really upset and drugged so I said we'd talk later. Then, he asked if I could stay. Um...I think maybe, he'll come around when he wakes up so if he calls you, Dick, you better answer and let him come home, okay?" Your words should be stern but instead, they're desperate and aching.

"Okay." Dick agrees simply, not willing to go back and forth this time. "Did you kill anyone tonight?"

"No, " You scoff. "I let them off with a warning for helping me."

Dick gains a soft smile. He didn't want you to go. He was really concerned for your safety, for all of the Titans' safety. But, you didn't kill anyone and you were right about Jason. You got him free and brought him somewhere safe, with just a little help from Gar. You had a plan of some sort and a backup just in case it was a trap. Dick hopes Jason realizes one day how lucky he is to have someone who's willing to learn from past mistakes and forgive and forget so easily. Not many people are willing to do that. And Dick is proud.

"Good work." Dick says. "Both of you." You can't see it but he offers Gar a simple nod.

You're still a little mad but it is nice to hear you did good for once. Bruce wasn't very much of a positive reinforcement kind of person. Jason always said you were doing a good job but it was different and that's when you finally get it.

Molly and Gar were right. It was never about you being enough for him because it's different. Your validation is important but you weren't the one who gave him the suit. You weren't the one that took him in. Jason always knew you were doing good and you're good at being a vigilante but hearing it from Dick, means something different.

It's like you expect Jason to think you're good because he loves you and that's the thing. Of course, you always believed in him because you love him. That was never the issue. Dick's been doing this for over ten years. Bruce even longer. And Dick was the one who said you could be a Titan. It was Dick that introduced you to it. Like Bruce introducing Jason to it. It's different hearing it from the person who believed in you. It never had anything to do with you.

"Thank you." You say softly, a soft smile on your lips. "I'm gonna go. Thanks for letting me do this and not following me." You say. "I'll be back tomorrow." You sigh before you hang up, resting your phone on the floor beside the mattress before you rest your head against the wall, closing your eyes.

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whydoyoucare866

1 year ago

are we still friends?

PAIRINGS:

Titans!Jason todd x reader

SUMMARY:

Bruce has taken in Jason Todd as his youngest son and the new robin some months ago, Bruce’s goddaughter also came back to Gotham after being away for a year.

Some months after meeting Jason she starts a friends with benefits relationship with him, suddenly Jason has to move to the Titans tower and two weeks later Bruce sends her too, but, why is Jason ignoring her and acting like he doesn’t know her and why does it get worse when Rose Wilson arrives to the tower??

TWS: angst, blood, canon violence, mentions of death, anxiety, jealousy, friends to friends with benefits to enemies to lovers?, maybe death of a main character (haven’t decided yet) change of plot

AN: Hii! so I decided to make this a series but I haven’t decided if red hood and Jason’s death is gonna happen yet!!! anyway i hope anyone who reads this enjoys

1. Moonlight

2. The Night We Met

Chapter 3

casual // touya todoroki part 3

when the boy you're in love with wants to keep it casual

a/n: so much happening in this one sorryy i just wanted to nicely wrap it all up lmao i need more soft touya/dabi content plssss i love u dabi fuckers but ur all so horny! <3 thank u everyone who was on ur knees begging for touya to suffer i hope i delivered.

part one part two

It had been about a couple of weeks since your outbursts at Touya's apartment. Since then, it's been eerily silent outside of the usual city noises- you couldn't even hear his footsteps at night anymore. For the first few days, you were living on eggshells around your apartment complex. Your window stayed locked with the curtain drawn, music would continuously be playing throughout your living room to mask any type of noise, and you rarely left your front door.

You were in a constant state of battle between your brain and your heart, but had ultimately accepted the demise of your relationship with Touya. After several "pep talks" with Toga, and her berating you to "stand the fuck up" and to get yourself together, the hope that you clutched onto slowly began to falter as the days went by.

"Like, look at this. Does this look fucking casual to you? " You whine to Toga, while scrolling through the messages Touya had been sending you since that night. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes.

"It pains me to see you this way. Him too." She pouts. "He has his reasons to not want anything serious, and maybe once his chokehold on you is gone, y'all can rationally talk about it, but PLEASE, Y/N, you're killing yourself by overthinking everything about your relationship with him."

You knew she was right, but you were still allowed to be bitter about it all. The universe seemed to enjoy the melancholic energy in your apartment as well as your sulking. Even with all of the windows closed, you could hear the storm coming down loud and clear.

You stood by your window for a moment, debating if you should open the curtains and enjoy the weather, or keep it shut to protect your peace from potential disturbance.

How much longer will I hide in this apartment from him?

You slowly draw the curtains back, revealing the melted gray skyline of the city, swallowed whole by fog and pelting rain. You open your window, and step out to sit on your windowsill, letting a gust of chilled wind sweep past your bare face. You take a deep breath of the cold air, savoring this solitude for a moment.

You had been properly ghosting him for a couple weeks now. You weren't sure what you would say to him when you would eventually run into him or decide to finally talk it out.

Something that worried you even more, was when you would eventually start going out with your mutual friend group again. Toga assures you that it would be fine, and that no one caught wind of everything that happened between you two, but that wasn't your main concern. You weren't so sure if you could pretend to be on normal terms with him anymore, especially in front of a crowd. The thought of having to continue pretending in front of him and everyone made your skin crawl with anxiety.

The scent of burnt tobacco in the air mixed in with the aroma of wet pavement emanating from the earth below pulled you out of thought.

You look up to see Touya leaning up against the railing of the fire escape with a cigarette in between his fingers, looking off into the city.

You take in a sharp inhale of air and snap your gaze forward, trying to find anything on the street to distract yourself. Maybe he didn't notice you, but his presence alone was enough to stop your breathing.

It's been two weeks, no contact, barely a glance. Do you end this now? Or do you try to silently crawl back into your apartment and pretend like you never saw him? You could just start with a "hey" or something. You asked yourself what would Toga tell you to do in this situation.

"What 'cha been up to?" He suddenly breaks the silence. "First time breathing fresh air in a minute?"

You purse your lips and glance back up to see him exhaling slowly and letting the tendrils of the smoke dissipate into the dark clouds, keeping his gaze straight ahead.

Fuck.

"The usual." You say, fiddling with the hem of your hoodie. "And no, I've been out and about."

Which was a lie.

There was an extended moment of silence. You almost guessed that he went back inside, but you didn't dare look up to check.

"You haven't responded to my texts." He cautiously says. "It's been a while, you know?"

"I know."

"You don't want to talk about it?"

"I don't really know what to say."

Another beat of silence.

"Can I come down?" He asks.

You glance up and meet your eyes with his, causing your stomach to knot.

"Sure." You sigh.

You guess you'd rather get it over with than let the anticipation of it sit in the back of your head for much longer.

He sat on the ground across from you, letting his back rest against the rails. He offers his cigarette to you, which you willingly took for the nerves.

You two sat in silence for a moment while you soaked up each other's presence, occasionally passing the cigarette back and forth.

"I fucking hate you." You finally say.

"Okay."

"But I love you, which is worst."

It felt like there was a sudden shift in the pressure on your shoulders now that you've said those words to his face, sober, calm, and intentionally. You felt more confident speaking about it.

"For our whole arrangement or whatever this is, I've always wanted some part of you that you couldn't give me. None of that was your fault, but I'm not sorry for it."

"You shouldn't be-" He starts.

"But." You cut him off, meeting his eyes. "I am sorry for how it came out. I didn't mean to villainize you when we weren't in a relationship, and we didn't establish anything. You don't owe me that just because I caught feelings."

He took a moment to make sure you were done speaking, in which you motioned him to continue.

"Okay, well, yeah you shouldn't be sorry for your feelings. Ever. And I never wanted you to have to pent it to this point, you know? I wish you could have told me about it sooner, but I get why you didn't."

"You knew I liked you." You cock an eyebrow. "You told me that night."

He sheepishly rubs the back of his head. "Well yes, and no. I found out you had an inkling of a crush, but that was when we first met way before we started doing this and it never came up again, so I didn't think anything of it. I seriously never thought it developed into... something more."

"I guess it's my fault that it exploded out like that. I just hoped that it would sizzle out. I wasn't ever planning on telling you, honestly. "

"At all?" His eyebrows furrowed in hurt.

"Would it have changed anything?" You cock an eyebrow. "We'd still be having this conversation."

"What was your plan then? If you weren't going to tell me?" He bitterly says, suddenly upset. "Wait for me to notice? Return the feelings? C'mon now, Y/N, you're better than that."

Ouch.

"Better than that?" You scoff. "Okay, then tell me Touya, one night I'm in your bed and we're rubbing noses, kissing, we're laughing together, and it suddenly comes out. 'Touya, I really like being with you like this, and you make me feel like a better person. I only want you. Let's be together.' What would you say?"

He pressed his lips together, suddenly quiet.

"If I'm so great, don't you think I deserve to hear it back from someone who feels the same?" You take a long drag of the cigarette, holding it in until your lungs burn. "Why would I put us in that situation when we both know you wouldn't be able to say it back?"

"Y/N, I didn't mean it like that. Of course you deserve it. You deserve it more than anyone." His voice falters. "It's all really complicated in my head right now, but I guess what I'm trying to say is that I wished you didn't let me hurt you like this. I genuinely do consider you to be a best friend of mine, and I care for you, so much. You know that right?"

You roll your eyes. "Duh, I know that. I've accepted this unrequited love for a while now. There were just some friend aspects that made the romantic aspects made sense and everything else confusing. Your siblings, visiting your mom with you, all of our talks- it just made things complicated, and not so.. casual."

"I'm sorry." He mutters. "About everything."

"I'm sorry, too."

After a second, you reach your hand out to him, in which he didn't hesitate to grab back. You didn't have much more to say, but this last physical exchange said it all.

I forgive you. I care about you. Take care of yourself. Don't be a stranger. I love you.

You couldn't help but sadly smile at this. This was the end of your entanglement with him, as long and messy as it was, you still hoped that he could someday meet someone to fall headfirst into- the same way you did for him.

"We're still friends?" You silently asked.

"Don't be stupid." He releases his hand from your grasp and lightly swats at your arm. "Of course we are. And neighbors, so terrorize me any time you want, and I'll do the same."

"Deal."

"So you don't like him anymore?" Toga asks, kicking her legs back and forth as she sits on the bathroom sink counter while Kurogiri goes at your hair with kitchen shears.

"I'll always love him, but I don't feel like I need to mourn what could've been with him anymore. We're fine, we've talked, and we're still friends. That's all I can really ask for." You shrug.

"And your hair? What's all this for, then?" You motions to your hair.

"Can't I just want a haircut?" You roll your eyes.

"Hair holds energy." Kurogiri suddenly says. "Cutting a significant amount off signifies an acceptance of change and the turning over of a new leaf."

"Exactly. Thank you, Kuro." You beam. "You get it. It's my symbolism for moving on, or some shit like that."

Another couple of weeks have passed since your last chat with Touya. You had seen each other in passing, and you've hung out at each other's apartment with the others. You were grateful that it all felt semi-normal. Everytime you were in a room together, you felt that there will always be a twinge of magnetism in your fingertips that's going to want to grab him and pull him towards you, but lately, you've been obedient and refraining yourself from getting too close.

"Your hair is so cute, I want mine short like yours now!" Toga pouts, fiddling with snipped lockets of your hair.

"You would hate short hair." You say matter-of-factly. "You wouldn't be able to put your hair in braids or buns anymore."

"I guess you're right." She murmurs. "You sure you don't want to go out with us?"

Kurogiri and Toga were preparing to meet up with Jin at the bar on your street. Of course they thought if they ambushed you at your apartment, they could drag you with them, but they couldn't have been more wrong.

"I'm sure. Be safe and let me know if you need to crash here or something, okay? Thank you Kuro, for the cut." You squeeze both of them in for a hug before ushering them out.

"Don't kiss any randoms, drink water, and slow the fuck down when drinking." You warn her. "Kuro, don't get in a fight, and tell her to fuck off if she makes you carry her home again."

He shoots you a thumbs up. "If you change your mind, you can always meet us there."

After the door shuts behind them, a long sigh escapes your lips. It was a Saturday night and you had no plans other than sweeping up the hair off your floor. On nights like these, you would usually be spending it with Touya, but things have changed now, and you were still avoiding spending one-on-one time with him like the plague.

As you start putting away the kitchen shears used to chop your hair, your phone goes off.

"Tenko?" You set the phone on speaker, continuing to sweep the ground.

"Please God, are you home?" He asks frantically.

"Yes? What's wrong?" His tones stop you in your tracks.

"We're upstairs. Dabi and Spinner can't handle their weed and are too fucking high. I need help before I start beating the shit out of them."

You deadpan. He's asking you to babysit on a Saturday night. You may be lonely, but not enough to have to deal with a few idiots who were on another planet.

But it would give you a reason to see Touya.

You missed him, but you had spent enough sleepless nights crying into your pillow about your loss. You still weren't sure if you missed pretending to be his, or the friendship you had prior to your confession. This inner conflict only drove you further away from him.

In the background, you hear craze laughing and crashing as if furniture were being thrown.

"Who are you talking to?!" Spinner's voice screeches from the background.

"Fuck off! Don't come near me!" Tenko cries, muffling the phone as if he was holding it under his arm.

"So you're all at Touya's? Who the hell is Dabi?"

"Dabi is Touya." He scoffs. "It's his gamertag, duh. Can you please just come over? I want to play league of legends and these fuckers keep bugging."

"Is that Y/N? Gimme the fucking phone." Touya joins in on the conversation.

"No!"

You couldn't help but laugh at his misfortune. Tenko had always been the most impatient and childish out of the boys, so it was satisfying to hear him suffer for once- especially when you knew that this was 100% his fault.

"So sorry baby boy, even if I wanted to, I can't. I have someone over." You lie.

You figured that a simple no wouldn't be enough to get Tenko to drop it. He's always had a sort of ick about hook ups and preferred to stay as far away as he could from hearing about his friends' sex life. It would also save you the trouble of dealing with them marching downstairs to bang on your window until you let them in.

"Fuck. Whatever, say less-" Tenko starts.

"WHAT?-" Touya interrupts before the phone hangs up.

You set your phone down and release a breath of relief. You applauded yourself for not giving in so easily. One step of many.

Almost immediately after Tenko had hung on you, you received a text.

You rub your temples, mentally groaning. You could never escape. You realized, as you stood by the window debating whether or not you should open it for Touya, that two weeks prior, you were in the same position- sitting in between letting him in or shutting him out.

Maybe nothing had changed after all.

You open your window, letting the click of it unlatching give him permission to enter your apartment. For some reason, your hands were sweating. You haven't been alone in each other's presence for a casual hangout in almost a month now, and you weren't really sure how to be a normal person around him without the others to act as the buffer.

"Thank god." He steps in and immediately shuts the window behind him. "It's so fucking cold, I was debating on jumping."

The moment he turned around, his jaw dropped. "Your hair." He gasps, covering his mouth with a hand. "Holy shit."

You sheepishly smile at the sudden reaction. "What? Not a fan?"

"Not a fan?" He exclaims. "I thought I liked the long hair, but wow. Fuck."

He flops down on your couch, still looking at you in awe. "God, you're so pretty. I'm nervous now." He chuckles, rubbing the back of his neck.

You roll your eyes, chucking a pillow at him. "Shut up or you'll scare off my date." You tease. "We're gonna finish up, but you stay here and be quiet, okay?"

His cheesing smile instantly drops. "You're fucking joking. Tell me you don't have someone in your bed right now."

"And what if I do?" You put a hand on your hip.

"Don't do that to me, Y/N." He pouts. "Kick them out pleaassee."

"You're such a baby." You sit down on the couch beside him. "I was kidding. No one's here. I just wanted Tenko to leave me alone, but clearly that didn't work out, huh?"

It was sadistic of you, but you did enjoy seeing him squirm at the thought of you spending your night with somebody else.

"Can't hate me for wanting a little distraction. You've just been avoiding me. Don't think I haven't noticed." He mutters.

"Avoiding you? That's a bit clingy of you, don't you think?" You joke.

You met his gaze to realize that he wasn't joking. At all. He had a pouty expression that only a child could master, and those bloodshot eyes were the equivalent to a poor puppy dog's.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You asked, suddenly taken aback. "What's wrong?"

"If I tell you something, promise you won't hate me?"

Your stomach drops. You didn't have a clue as to where this conversation could go next and couldn't figure out what that look on his face really meant. You had been playing your cards right, kept your distance, maintained your friendship, what more could there have been?

"What is it?"

A beat pass. His lips parted, but no words came out.

"I think I'm actually at a 7.8." He slowly says, gauging your incoming reaction. "Like, a strong 7.8." He murmurs.

A chuckle escaped your lips. That dramatic of an expression just to tell you that he was really fucking stoned made your heart swell a bit and a wave of relief come over you.

"It's fine, Touya. I promise." You wave off. "I'll always take care of you, it doesn't matter."

"Well, no it's not just that. I'm at a strong 7.8 and I have to tell you that I'm having a lot of feelings."

You stared at him for a second, digesting what he just said but not quite getting it.

"I don't think I'm following."

His cheeks puff in frustration. "I'm trying to say that I want to talk to you about... complicated stuff, but I'm stoned, so it's going to come out sounding stupid."

You nervously chuckle. "Don't you think you should talk to me about it when you're sober, then?"

You concluded that you definitely should have kept your window shut and left him on the fire escape- to jump or to freeze whichever came first. You were mentally cursing Tenko for your misfortune of having to deal with this with no preparation.

"Why would I do that when it's easier doing it like this?"

"Because last time someone did that, it ended up in flames. You remember that?" You press your lips together. "Do you want water or something? Some snacks? At least to sober up?" You stand up, starting your way to the kitchen.

"You're doing it again. Avoiding- or an even better word, deflecting." He hums.

"I'm not avoiding or deflecting, Touya. I'm making sure you're taken care of and even more important, don't say anything stupid." You come back with a glass of water and set it on the table in front of him.

"But I want to say something stupid."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"Because it's easy in this state and I don't care about the consequences. Duh." He deadpans. "Sweet girl, we are going in circles here. Just let me speak. It's not like I'm totally incoherent or anything. I mostly still have full function of my brain right now....unlike you when you had a silly little something to say." He shoots you a side eye.

You bite the inside of your cheek at the nickname you haven't heard in what felt like a lifetime ago. You take your seat beside him again in defeat.

"Fine. Say your 'silly little something' then."

"Like I was saying earlier, I'm having a lot of feelings." He begins, waving his arms as he speaks. "You following?"

"Mmhm."

"And I'm having these feelings because you've been avoiding me- don't even try to deny it either. We both know you've been avoiding me. Anyways, this probaabbllyyy..." He draws out "..started about a week or so ago, so I've had a week to sit on it, but one day I was like DAMN. This shit sucks! And then I asked myself Well, why does this shit suck so bad? and I came to the conclusion that I..... miss you."

You stared at him for a moment, watching him fiddling with his glass of water and rubbing his bloodshot eyes while he anxiously waited for your response.

"Touya, read the damn room." You roll your eyes. "Okay so if I have been avoiding you, you realize that the time away from you was very necessary for me? I literally confessed my feelings for you, and you told me you didn't feel the same way. Which is 100% fine, but what am I supposed to do? Pretend like everything's normal and go back to hanging out with you like nothing happened?"

"Don't hate me." He murmurs, following up the silence that fell between you two. "I know it's selfish, but it's been hard and confusing for me too."

"I could never hate you, but I really would like to mean it when I say I'm over you. Just give me some time, okay? And then we can hang out and be besties again and all that shit. It's not a big deal to not see me for a couple weeks." You take a sip of your own water cup.

"I don't think we're on the same page right now, Y/N." He mutters.

Another silence falls between you.

"I don't follow anymore. What do you mean, then?"

"I'm having a lot of feelings... about missing you. And us." He avoids your gaze, looking down at his hands.

Us.

"Us." You repeat. "Okay? Keep elaborating." You slowly say, fiddling with your own hands now.

"I know I don't have the right to say this after all that shit that happened, but for a long time, it felt like what we had going on was really good and then all of the sudden it's gone. I knew it was for the better, for both of us, but then after these weeks of not seeing you anymore, it's like I lost you completely and I miss you."

Your stomach simultaneously twists, drops, and threatens to climb up your throat. You didn't know if this sick feeling was coming from anger or the years of yearning coming back to the forefront of your mind.

You reach over, and hold his hands into yours. "Touya, I'm going to hold your hands when I tell you this, okay? And I tell you this because I hold you so close to my heart, and want to continue to do so, but yeah you don't have a fucking right to say all that shit." You huff. "You didn't lose me, because you never had me. You never had me, because you never wanted me. You didn't. I don't hate or blame you for it, but I can't change you. Do you understand?"

He slowly nods his head.

His expression fell into sadness. You weren't sure if it really clicked for him, or if he was fighting his own conflictions about your mess of a relationship, but you knew that above all, you had to protect your peace.

"But what if I can change myself?"

"Wow, you really did miss me, huh?" You tried to lighten up the thick air that had fallen in the room.

"Tell me what I can do, and I'll do it." He squeezes your hands, scooting himself closer to you where your knees were touching now. "I'll change."

Your eyes widened in shock. "Seriously, Touya. You don't have to change anything- you shouldn't. Like I said, the distance made things hard and weird for our friendship, but we'll be back to normal, just give it time."

"Maybe let's talk about this another time, okay? When you're not high." You smile, trying to deescalate the frustration between you two. "We can turn on a movie or something."

"No, Y/N. You're still not getting it... and deflecting." He sighs in frustration. "Your normal is not my normal. My normal is being able to touch you and kiss you and hold you close to me and tell you how fucking beautiful and great you are. I want you to fuck up my hair and paint my nails, call me a piece of shit, your sweet boy, all of it. Tell me what to do to get that, and I'll do it."

You almost pulled back in shock.

"Touya. Listen to me so carefully. You. Don't. Want. Me. Like. How. I. Want. You." You say slowly. "We are friends. Friends don't do all that. There is no world where we can do any of that anymore. How are you asking me to do all of those things with you, when you don't feel more for me? I can't do that to myself, and you know how it killed me."

"Y/N. I will get on my knees right now if you want me to." He begins. "Listen to me, I've slept in my own bed every single night since you left, I've left my window and door unlocked for you, I've been waiting for you for the past month. I know I can be so fucking stupid sometimes, and not know how to talk about my feelings or go about a relationship, but I only want you. Okay? Please. I'm sorry it's taken me this long to realize that, but this isn't like how it was before. I. Want. You."

Your jaw went slack. You realize that this whole conversation had been a poorly navigated confession. Touya wasn't telling you that he missed your weekly hook ups and late night snuggle sesh. He was confessing to you and you had no clue how to take it all in. You had spent weeks trying to get over him- you've just cut off all of your hair for the cause, just for him to sit here and tell you that he's been yearning after you for the past few weeks as you had for him since the beginning of your friendship.

"Please." He grips your hands tighter and brings it up to his mouth. "Please give me a chance to fix it. I'll prove it to you. It was never casual. You do deserve to hear it back. I'm the biggest fucking idiot on the planet to lose you. Tell me you still feel the same way." He mutters into your knuckles with a sense of desperation. "Please."

You took a sharp intake of air. Letting this conversation sit for a second. You debated on asking him to leave and give you a few days, but knowing that Tenko and Spinner were still in his apartment, you couldn't do that to him.

"So, this is you telling me you want to be with me." You finally asked. "You have feelings for me."

He nods his head. "More than that. I want to be yours. And I want you to be mine."

"And not in the way that we were before all this. You feel the same way I do? Like everything I told you on the fire escape a couple weeks ago."

He nods once more. "If you've felt this tightness in your chest as if something is going to rip open at the thought of me not being there anymore, then yeah. The same."

"God, you really had to be stoned to do this?"

"I also wish I had a bottle of tequila and a pack of cigarettes right now, but this will do." He smiled. "I do feel like i'm going to shit myself, I'm so sweaty, and the cotton mouth is insane right now, but I like you so much, I don't want to fuck this up."

He cautiously reaches his hand up to tenderly cup your cheek, swiping his thumb across your lips. He pulls your head into his, letting your foreheads rest against each other.

"You're a fucking idiot." You mutter against his thumb. "So, so stupid. This was a lot, Touya."

"I know, and I'm sorry. I guess we're even now though, huh?" He chuckles nervously. "Um, so yeah I am still shitting myself because you haven't given me a response, sooo...what do you say?"

"Say please one more time and maybe I'll consider taking your sorry ass back." You tease as a smirk grows on your face.

He drops his hand back to your own and leans back, taking in your whole view. A grin spreads ear to ear as a light blush brush on his cheeks. "You are absolutely wicked, my sweet girl. So breathtakingly evil and I am nothing more than a dust particle living in your world. Please. I will never deserve you, but let me be selfish anyways and want you. I want you more than anything. Please."

"God, you're so good at that." You couldn't help but laugh at this theatrical version of a confession. "I guess, if you want me that bad..."

"Can I kiss you?" He quietly asked, "Please."

You smiled, returning the small physical gesture by rubbing his knuckles with your thumbs. Your body was on fire and had been craving this physical contact with him for the past month, and you desperately wanted to just lunge into his skin and devour him whole to make up for lost time.

"No."

His smile falters into the saddest pout you've seen.

"I want you to take me out first. I want you to come to my front door with flowers and a cute outfit, I want dinner, an activity planned, I want you to properly ask me out, maybe grovel a bit more, and then if I say yes, you can kiss me."

He pulls your hands up to his mouth to kiss your knuckle. "That was so fucking hot. You got it, sweet thing. Anything, anything, anything. I'm yours."

tags: @whitneys-favorite-slut @lanxsee @bumblebeebutter @randomrosie01 @lillycore @rinheartshyunlix @yuwuuta @itawifeyy @0fffia @the2ndl @moonchild701 @oldspirit @misguidedswagger

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whydoyoucare866

9 months ago

ᴡʜɪᴛᴇ ʙᴏʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ — ᴀᴜɢᴜsᴛ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ

sᴘᴇɴᴄᴇʀ ʀᴇɪᴅ (ᴍᴀᴛᴛʜᴇᴡ ɢʀᴇʏ ɢᴜʙʟᴇʀ)

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whydoyoucare866

1 year ago

this is so so beautiful

Emergency Contact

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Leave me something - or let me out. I'm starving. Push me, pull me. Waiting for the start of:

Things that I want, this happily ever after. You choke on your words, but you swallow them faster. Just want you to be my Emergency Contact.

Summary:

After Jason miraculously comes home from his brush with Deathstroke, you're both feeling it in very different ways. You have an unexpected physical wound from the battle, and he has many (very expected) emotional wounds. You help each other heal. Even if it's very stubborn on both your parts.

Jason Todd x GN!Powered!Reader. Enemies/FWB to Lovers. Angst and Hurt/Comfort. (Slight Smut). Set during Season 2, Episode 5.

Word Count: 10,400

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

If you want to be notified whenever I post a new fic, make sure to follow my library blog @sundropslibrary and turn on notifications there.

List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst, Jason has a self deprecating inner dialogue, (kind of) enemies to lovers - more like annoyances to fuck buddies to lovers, friends with benefits to lovers, the reader and Jason have a bantering/argumentative nature to their relationship, the reader is meant to be 100% gender neutral (the reader is never referred to in the third person, so there is no need to use they/them pronouns, but the reader is not called she/her or he/him), Jason calls the reader ‘babe’ (imo, a completely gender neutral term and he would call anybody that), mentions of alcohol (Jason drinking a beer), the reader character has ice powers (not entirely relevant to the plot but I couldn’t help myself lmao).

sexual themes throughout, mentions of sexting (no detailed descriptions), mentions of sexting in public, mentions of the reader character sending nudes to Jason (no detailed descriptions of the photos), one scene with detailed smut (but it is not the primary focus of the fic), the reader’s genitals are not described in any specific way, some dirty talk, Jason is more dominant and the reader is more submissive, penetrative sex, Jason is annoying even during sex, Jason has a pain kink (even when he’s a dom, he’s a painslut, I don’t make the rules), scratching/marking (Jason receiving), slight humiliation kink.

mentions of canon level violence, mentions of kidnapping (in alignment with canon), mentions of Jason being beaten by Deathstroke, mentions of Jason’s near-death experience (being dropped off the building), gun violence, the reader is injured - has a bullet wound/bullet fragment in their stomach, mentions of blood, descriptions of first-aid, mentions of puss from an infected wound (theoretically, not something that happens in the fic). That should be everything.

A/N: The title for the fic comes from a song by Pierce the Veil of the same name. It's a newer song, and it's one that I absolutely went to when looking for a title for this fic. The concept of becoming someone's emergency contact is about upgrading the relationship from casual to much more serious, and just the whole song, and specific lyrics in it suit this fic so well. I highly recommend listening to it paired with this fic.

This was based on a request from my old blog, but obvi I don't have that ask anymore - the request was about Jason getting shot and having his wound attended to by the reader, but I changed it to the reader getting shot cause I thought that was more interesting and less common. If the person who made that request sees this and finds my new blog, I hope you enjoy it! And in general, I hope everyone who reads this enjoys it.

...

If asked, you would be hard pressed to explain your relationship with Jason Todd.

The best way you could describe it would probably be - friends with benefits?

But most of the time, the two of you weren’t even friends. You weren’t the type to hang out casually, or spend time alone together if it didn’t involve ripping each other’s clothes off.

If you ever exchanged secrets or those precious bits of your most raw selves, it was by mistake. It was through sarcasm, or coming off the tired lips of someone who had just been exhausted by a few orgasms. The two of you knew each other well, quite literally inside and out. But you always made a deep, concerted effort to hold each other at arm’s length. And maybe that’s part of what all the snark and harsh words were for.

It wasn’t all arguing. You were friendly. You could be civil, at the very least.

Right from the moment you had first met Jason, you had found him to be so damn annoying, a shitstain on the earth - yet, someone you couldn’t stay away from. The line between flirtatious banter and a truly grinding argument was always so thin with the two of you.

…

You hadn’t expected that your life would be truly changed when you walked into that safehouse in Chicago that day. You truly thought nothing of him when his eyes landed on you - in those moments, a completely anonymous stranger, raking his eyes over you like you were a piece of meat. It was a gaze that immediately made you feel naked, something that made you want to smack him. You told yourself it was because he was being a pervert, not because of the heat that curled in your gut at feeling so intensely desired by him.

He had been sitting on the couch sipping a beer like he owned the place, his thighs spread wide in a way you immediately decided was arrogant and annoying rather than hot - showing off his muscle tone as if it was trying to break through his jeans. Definitely annoying. Definitely the stance of a fuckboy trying to look bigger and badder than he was. He definitely was not attractive.

When Dick led you, Rachel, Gar, and Kory further into the condo that seemed far too conspicuous to be a safehouse, the stranger you would later come to know as Jason quickly spoke up.

“Who are your friends?” He asked.

As he rose from the couch, his eyes lingered on you. Though his words seemed more out of curiosity, you couldn’t help but feel that bite of something more salacious lingering in his voice.

It caused you to scoff and roll your eyes.

“Not important.” Dick declared, his voice snippy. He was clearly annoyed with this new guy, and you could tell that your perceptions of him were definitely not ill-informed.

“Who’s he?” Kory asked, going for the obvious question.

“Not important.” Dick parroted out the words again, sounding much shorter with his patience.

“Anybody want a brew?” Jason asked, motioning with the beer bottle in his hand.

“Brew?” You twisted your eyebrows with disgust, staring him down as you commented on his odd choice of slang.

He didn’t get to reply, as you were trampled over by Gar’s enthusiastic voice in your ear.

“I do!” He said, raising his hand with excitement.

“No, you don’t.” You quickly told him, reaching out to grab his hand and put it back down. “It’s disgusting.”

You had a grand suspicion that Gar had never drank beer before, and he had no idea what he was truly asking for. Rather, he was simply taking advantage of trying new things because Dick and Kory were incredibly slack parental figures and he was away from home for the first time.

“No, no one wants a brew.” Dick sighed, shaking his head. He threw Jason a small glare and you resisted the urge to laugh.

“That can’t be Adamson.” Kory said, motioning toward Jason.

This left you confused. But you didn’t question it.

“He’s not Adamson. Adamson’s in the bathroom. Unconscious.” Dick explained.

“Hi, I’m Rachel.” Rachel told Jason, offering him a sweet smile - being her usual sweet self.

“Jason.” He introduced himself, in that moment, finally giving you a name to that obnoxious face.

“I’m Gar!” Gar said with a grin, to which Jason nodded.

Jason caught you glaring at him, and looked you up and down again, as if trying to willfully tear off your clothes with his eyes. It made your skin itch with heat and you would forever deny that it was a feeling you liked.

“What can I call you, babe?” He asked, his voice entirely slimy, the kind of tone he would have used to recite cheesy lines to Tinder dates, you were entirely sure of.

Before you could come up with some clever reply, Dick sighed in frustration and started balking again.

“Okay, who we all are doesn’t matter right now.” He pressed, his neck so entirely tense that veins began to pop from the skin. “Can we just chill out, relax, sit on the couch and watch TV or something?”

It seemed that he wouldn’t get his wish.

Gar quickly charged around the table, finding something else to get strung up about.

“Yo, when did you get another one?” He asked, putting his hands on both of the expensive cases on the long dining table - a copy identical to the one you knew to be containing Dick’s Robin outfit.

It made you curious, and the answer that followed certainly surprised you.

“That one’s mine.” Jason said, his chest literally puffing out with pride as he stated the fact.

“No way.” You scoffed.

“Yes way.” He quickly argued back, the whole exchange sounding entirely juvenile.

“This one’s yours? Wait, you’re Robin too?” Gar quickly put the pieces together.

“I thought you were Robin?” Rachel commented, tilting her head toward Dick with curiosity.

“I am.” Dick said firmly.

“He was.” Jason corrected, a cocky smirk forming across his lips.

“Batman really lowered the height requirement, huh.” You said.

The words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, seeing as it was likely the only thing you could nitpick about Jason’s appearance. Between his stunning sharp jaw, his piercing blue eyes, his oddly appealing wild hair, his muscle tone being somehow visible beneath his baggy clothing - all of it made you equally frustrated and annoyed with him, and your baser urges couldn’t resist the low-hanging fruit.

You felt victory and a slight pang of guilt when Jason deflated because of your comment, shrinking back into himself at your words.

He didn’t have anything to say in return, he simply sipped his beer.

“Wait, how many Robins are there?” Gar said, beginning to excitedly ramble at the thought. “Are there a lot? Cause I would love to-”

“Okay, quiet.” Kory cut him off, clearly becoming annoyed with all of this dancing around the point as much as Dick was. “Sit.”

Her words were firm, and you couldn’t help but to listen. You found yourself collapsing to sit on the couch while Rachel and Gar took seats at the dining table. Jason continued to linger in the middle of the room, staring at Kory and Dick as their frustration filled the air.

“Bathroom.” Kory told Dick, and then they left to deal with whoever - or whatever - Adamson was.

Jason sighed and took a seat beside you. When his eyes fell on you, you set your jaw and glared at him. You didn’t give away a single ounce of the heat you were feeling as his eyes locked with yours.

“Even if I am the shorter Robin, I can assure you that everything else about me is… very long.” He lowered his voice and whispered those last words, crowding into your personal space as he did so.

It sent shivers down your spine, his silken voice making the words sound too tempting. Even if you twisted your face and said ‘gross!’ causing him to dissolve into laughter, you didn’t make an effort to move away from him or put any space between your two bodies on the very large couch. You told yourself it was because you were tired from a very long day of travel, not because you were enjoying the smell of his strangely expensive cologne from this close by.

His grin was still entirely smug, and you couldn’t stand it.

When he raised the beer bottle up to his mouth again, you reached over and put a hand on his forearm, forcefully dragging his arm down as you made a snide comment.

“That shit is disgusting, why the hell do you drink it?” You asked.

You found your face drifting toward his again and if asked, you would say it was a form of intimidation - not that you were being drawn in by an unconscious attraction to him.

“Because I can.” He replied, just as snide as he slipped your grip and sipped on the drink.

You mocked his words in an entirely childish voice, and then you raised a single finger up to it and skimmed along the neck of the bottle. It took only a single moment of concentration with your skilled powers to freeze the beer inside solid. He thought he felt an extra chill coming off his hand, but convinced himself that he imagined it. But when he kept it tilted and nothing came out to meet his lips, he shook it and then stuck an inquiring eye inside the bottle.

When he saw that it was completely frozen, he looked over and saw you grinning, and little did you know - that was the moment he became completely taken with you. You were one of the most annoying people he had ever met, and he found himself so intensely attracted to you.

Even if it was getting under your skin by arguing with you or fucking your brains out, he knew in that moment - he had to get inside you and drive you insane the same way that he knew you would for him.

…

When Dick left to go check on his old circus friend Clay, Jason winked at you and said ‘don’t miss me too much’. You made a show of putting a finger near your mouth and audibly gagging.

Later that night, when Jason didn’t return, you hated the curl of disappointment that panged in your stomach. You wanted to hit yourself for staring at the door, waiting for the second Robin to come in behind Dick.

You hated yourself even more for replying to Jason’s texts.

Apparently he had taken your phone out of your jacket pocket when you went to the bathroom (not to see Adamson - a different bathroom, to pee). And he had put himself in your contacts as ‘Hot Guy’. He had also sent himself a text from your phone that read ‘omg Jason you’re so hot, will you fuck me?’. And then replied to it from his own phone with a picture of his cock.

Unfortunately, the only thing you could mock about the picture was poor lighting.

When you told him as much, he quickly remedied that with several more pictures - ones with better lighting. He sent a video with very distinct audio. You would deny that you rushed to put your headphones in to listen to it while you sat on the train with Kory and Gar. You would deny that it drove a hard, hot pain between your thighs.

You dug through a folder and sent some pictures of your own. You told yourself it was to prove to him that you were too good for him - to show off something he could never actually have. To tease him.

You would deny that you loved the compliments he gave you, that you ate up the affection like a plant lovingly soaking up the sun.

When you were sexting him, you had no clue that you were ever going to see him again. It was almost mindless, something for a dopamine hit to distract yourself from all the chaos going on around you. You weren’t doing it because you actually liked Jason. You didn’t have any real attractions toward him, or any real plans to carry out all of the bold things you said in those messages.

You had no clue that you’d end up living together.

When you did find out that Dick would be taking Jason into the newly reopened Titans Tower along with you, Gar, and Rachel, you didn’t make a big deal of it in your mind. When Jason made flirtatious remarks toward you in person, you brushed him off. You put up a wall.

You told yourself that he was nothing more than a cocky, shallow guy who would use you for sex and then throw you away - something you could never actually build a proper relationship with. And if you were supposed to live together, be some kind of team like Dick expected you to be, then you couldn’t be messy. You couldn’t get emotional.

You had no clue that on one of those first nights living together, your self assured discipline not to give into your lust for him would break like a wafer cookie, and you would be in his bed faster than a sea turtle running into ocean.

…

“Fuck, babe, you feel so good on my cock.” Jason grunted, his face buried in your neck as he thrusted deep inside of you. The loud squelch of artificial wetness coming from between your thighs as he worked his hips, working you open with a needy, demanding pace. “Bet you love this cock, huh? Tell me how fuckin’ much you love it.”

“Shut up.”

The words came from your throat as a weak whimper, much less powerful than you had intended.

You didn’t want to give him any more power than he already held over you - he had you weak and willing on his cock, something you would have never admitted could be true until it was happening in these moments.

Though you would never admit it aloud, you loved the way he handled you. Having you pinned against the bed with his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, having you breathless and moaning as he fucked into you with fast, obviously skilled strokes. Your nails cut into the flesh of his back, and he let out a low rumble from his gut as the sharp sting sent a wave of pleasure through him.

You hated the twinge of lustful embarrassment that curled in your gut when he chuckled at your words.

“Oh, you want me to shut up?” He asked, slightly breathless from the act himself, moving one hand beside your head to raise himself up slightly to look in your eyes.

He was sweaty, disheveled, his hair a mess, his muscles taught with the effort as he continued to pound into you. You hated that you had imagined him much like this before, and that this outlived all of your fantasies.

“Yes.” You fired back. “Just shut up and fuck me.”

He bit his lip - something you didn’t know was him trying to hold back his orgasm, so utterly turned on by your bratty defiance, the twinge of a whimper in your voice as you said those words.

“You weren’t tellin’ me to shut up when I was texting you.”

He said, all hot breath fanning across your chin, his hips spearing forward in sharp, hard hits that made your skin smack loudly together. It made you work hard to suppress moans deep in your chest in a way that was painful, like venom inside your lungs. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of your sounds, of knowing just how good he was fucking you - even if he could see it written all over your pleasure twisted face.

“You only begged for more when I was tellin’ you how I was gonna lay you on my bed. Take you apart… make you scream my name.”

He reached his other hand from your hip to the point where you were joined. He began touching that tender place, making sharp, vicious strokes that were almost vengeful. Tears easily gathered in your eyes and he let out another chuckle when you choked on a deep, pleasurable wail.

“Tell me, how many times did you touch yourself reading what I wrote?”

He asked, leaning down to whisper the words right in your ear.

“How many times did you cum thinking about me?”

“I didn’t.” You choked out, digging your nails deeper into the skin of his back, causing him to grunt as the pain mixed with the pleasure flowing through him.

“Sure, babe.” He smirked down at you, turning that look into something absolutely pavlovian that would forever make you feel his cock deep inside of you when you saw it, rather than feeling annoyed.

Maybe from that point on, it was a bit of both.

In an effort to shut him up, you reached up and claimed his lips. It was supposed to be a kiss, but it was mostly teeth. When you bit down on his bottom lip, snarling, he tasted blood and the way he moaned at the pain was absolutely unmistakable. It was something you remembered and used against him many times after that.

…

You wouldn’t allow yourself any room for self hatred when it came to that break in your self control. When it became an ongoing thing, you spun it as positive in your mind.

It was just sexual release. You and Jason both needed it. It paired well with intense training and the heavy studying that Dick made you do. It lowered your stress levels a lot, and it helped you get through the day.

The more time you spent around Jason, the more you got to know him, and the more you came to realize that he was nowhere near shallow. You easily saw that he was caring, deep, complex, troubled. The more time passed, you found yourself falling for him and the more you deeply denied it. Because it was just sex.

Things were good between the two of you, and you knew that if you added anything else to the mix - any complicated, mushy feelings - you would fuck it up.

You were especially reminded of this - how important it was not to fuck things up - just a day or so before every other force aside from you railed Titans Tower and began royally fucking things up.

…

It was a morning just like any other at Titans Tower. It was delightfully quiet - even though Dick demanded that everyone get up at ungodly early hours to begin training, you had somehow managed to wake up before everyone else and you were enjoying the peace it brought you.

When you got up to see that Jason was already in the kitchen, standing at the counter as he munched on a bowl of cereal, you wanted to scorn the idea that your peace would be interrupted. But instead, you found yourself willfully suppressing a smile.

You yawned and walked over to the counter, grabbing a bowl from one of the cupboards, thinking that cereal was just the right idea on his part. A deep frown cut through your face when you poured out the rest of the cereal box he had left on the counter, and a very measly amount fell into your bowl.

“What kind of asshole only leaves three fucking cornflakes in the bottom of the box?” You scoffed, causing him to chuckle.

“Learn to count, babe.” He told you, speaking with his mouth half-full. “That’s more than three.”

You rolled your eyes. You were likely exaggerating - but still, it seemed rude to you to leave such a small portion, barely a handful, in the bottom of the box.

“Or did I make you cum so hard last night that I knocked the common sense out of your head?” He added on, throwing you that signature smirk that made heat bloom between your thighs.

You let out a sarcastic snort, giving him a purposefully disgusted grimace as you lifted the bowl up and dumped the remaining cereal into his portion instead.

“You might as well take these.” You told him. “And don’t flatter yourself, you’re not that good.”

You moved behind them, distracting yourself from the conversation by making a cup of coffee.

“Oh really?” He perked up, rising to his full height, pure mischief in his voice. “It didn’t sound like it last night.”

Much to your horror, he then began imitating your moans.

“‘Oh, Jason! Oh, fuck me! More!’”

It was a cartoonish, pornographic imitation, something he likely wouldn’t have done if the others were anywhere within earshot. Oddly enough, even though your relationship was casual, you still kept it guarded and private, as though it were some precious secret that needed to be kept from the others.

“‘Jason, please, your dick is the best! Oh, make me cum!’”

But that was the farthest thing from your mind as embarrassment curled in your stomach, the reaction he likely wanted to draw out of you. You hated that you didn’t truly know if it was accurate or not, because sometimes - yes, he did fuck your brains out and make you completely mindless on his cock.

But you would never admit that he was right.

“Shut up.” You sighed, causing him to dissolve into laughter, feeling as though he had won.

But you wouldn’t simply leave it at that.

Instead, as you pushed the button on the machine and your coffee began to drip, you turned around and gently placed your fingers on the side of his cereal bowl. You froze all the milk inside of it solid, making it into one large frozen chunk with the spoon stuck inside when he wasn’t looking - distracted, staring at your face, looking for any trace of the reaction that he had drawn out of you.

You just glared, and he smirked once more.

When he picked up the spoon again and went to take another bite, the entire bowl came with it. He sighed in defeat when he realized what you had done.

“You know, it’s so damn annoying when you do that.” He sighed.

“I know.” You grinned at him.

He couldn’t help the butterflies that fluttered in his stomach at this. He resisted the urge to grab you by the sides of your head and steal the grin of your mouth with his own. He told you that it was out of annoyance, and not affection. He told himself those lines were most definitely not blurred when it came to you.

…

Confessing your feelings to Jason would not have been your choice.

Given the choice, you would have let your feelings quietly live and die inside of you. You would have just kept Jason as a friend. You would have even dropped the amazing sex if it meant staying on good terms with him.

But the stakes rose pretty quickly, and things were taken out of your hands. The choice was stolen from you and Jason entirely against your will.

When you found out he was missing, supposedly kidnapped by Doctor Light on the heels of some misguided plan - something inside of you shattered. Up until that moment, if you thought it was just a stupid crush, or an infatuation inside of you that would easily fade with time - you quickly found out that you were wrong.

You went through the stages of grief like a rocket.

Denial. Staring at the door, waiting for him to walk inside at any moment. Just like you had back at the safehouse.

Anger. Being so pissed at Dick at the other older Titans that you could barely breathe. How had they let this happen to him? How could they make him feel so inadequate that he felt the need to go out on his own, half-cocked, clearly doing something in the name of looking for their approval?

Bargaining. You would have traded places with him. You would have been the one, alone and scared and stranded if it meant that he got to be at home safe. You would have gone with him to carry out the stupid plan if he had only asked. Why hadn’t he asked you?

Depression. You wept in your room, hands clasped over your face, letting out chest-shaking sobs as you thought of the possibility of him never returning home again. You realized the possibility of him dying was very real and it made your lungs burn.

And then finally - Acceptance. You finally accepted that your feelings for him were something bigger, and if it meant that you were the only person in the Tower who truly cared about him (probably aside from Gar) - the only person who didn’t just see him as a pawn to be used against Deathstroke - then you had to do something about it.

So you laid out your love for Jason. You put it all on the line for him. You accidentally confessed to him, showed your feelings in a gesture so quiet it screamed.

You knew that for someone who stepped up to become Robin, someone who scorned cops for pummeling down on the innocent when they were supposed to be protectors - stepping up to try and save his life meant a love bigger than anything else you could have done.

And he was terrified of it. There was a big justice in your love for him. And to him, there was an even bigger justice in giving you an out to escape it - to escape loving him.

…

Hectic.

That was easily how you would describe the last few days at Titans Tower.

Between the unexpected arrival of Rose - Dick taking on another stray because, like Rachel said, he couldn’t resist a bird with a broken wing. Finding out that she was related to one of the deadliest men on earth that the Titans apparently had previous history with. And then Jason going off on his own without telling you, some botched hostage trade, and the group picking up yet another stray - a strange boy who had saved Jason’s life. It was all a blur of hectic chaos that had you snapping your neck to keep up.

Sleep was scarce and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d had a proper meal.

But you weren’t truly worried about any of that.

Dust had been kicked up around your life, and you couldn’t wait for it to settle before you made your next important decision.

Even though the wounds were still tender, you knew that things were safe for now, and your number one concern was Jason.

The minute he had gotten in the door, even though he was slightly hobbled and clearly sore from whatever Deathstroke had done to him, he rushed out of your sight. He was clearly eager to get away from everyone like a wounded animal sulking away to lick his wounds in peace. And when you had chased him, ignoring a nagging pain in your own side from the fight, he had slammed his bedroom door in your face, entirely uncaring of the fact that you called out his name, concerned for him.

The rest of the group was distracted with Conner - not knowing what he had been shot with or how to fix it. You hated it, but in the eyes of the group, yet again, Jason and any of his problems fell to the back burner.

After you had taken a short shower and changed your clothes, you found yourself here. Standing in front of Jason’s closed bedroom door, hoping not to face another cold rejection.

You wondered if he would be sleeping, wondered if you should interrupt his peace. But you knew that sleep was unlikely after everything that had happened.

So you took the leap.

You raised a fist, once again pushing down that stinging pain coming from the right side of your stomach. You reasoned that it was probably nothing more than a bruise forming there. And you knocked on the door.

A few moments later, the door was jerked open, and Jason glared at you.

His eyes were dull and tired, and there was a large bruise forming on the side of his mouth. Probably one of many others that you couldn’t see, from the way he had been walking earlier. He likely hadn’t been sleeping, but you had disturbed him.

“What the hell do you want?” He grumbled out, his voice dull, lacking any true fight.

“I wanted to check on you.” You told him, entirely honest. “I know it might seem stupid, but I wanna see how you’re doing.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes.

He wanted to agree that - yes, it was stupid. It should have been obvious how he was doing after being kidnapped, beaten, and dropped off a building. But he was an idiot who had gotten himself thrown headfirst into that mess, thinking he could handle it. And he didn’t need to go crying to you about how badly he had fucked up. He had made a poor choice and he deserved all of the consequences. It was a simple fact of life.

“I’m doing just fine, thanks.” Jason said, entirely snide and sarcastic. “Look, I don’t need your help, okay? So fuck off.”

It was a set of harsh, cutting words. But he thought getting distance from you would be best. This whole thing had woken him up from the sweet little fantasy the two of you had been participating in. He was a natural born fuck-up. And sure, he could have you for a while, play around a bit - but he could never truly make you happy. Eventually, he would fuck you up too. He was a harsh poison and it would be better if he got out of your life before you felt the full effects.

He moved to shove the door closed and upon instinct, you reached up and fought him on it. Unconsciously, you winced as a sharp pain came from the injury in your stomach, reaching for it with your free hand as you held the door open with the other. It should have been no big deal. With your meta abilities, you usually healed quicker. You weren’t even used to feeling it when you got hurt. You were probably just feeling it worse because you were tired.

You tried to ignore the pain. But in a moment, Jason’s eyes went wide with worry as his gaze darted from your face, knit with pain, to where your hand was nursing the injury. Any sense of smarmy discontent dropped from his features, immediately being replaced with a softness and worry for you.

“You’re hurt.” He said quietly.

He let the door fall open again, reaching for your hand to inspect the injury himself.

“I’m fine.” You played the card this time, exchanging his lie for your own.

It was an odd play. He had lied about not being so torn up inside, emotionally devastated as he was, and now you were lying about not being physically injured from the fight. The two of you made an odd, but perfectly matched pair.

Jason barreled right past your words, and you were easily pliant to his touch as he removed your hand from the injury. You certainly were not expecting for him to find anything incriminating under your hand. But he glared at you when he found bright red spread across your palm, a glossy wetness leaking through your shirt.

“You’re bleeding.” He grunted at you.

Clearly, he was disappointed in the fact that you had neglected to bring this injury to the group’s attention. Pissed off at the fact that you weren’t in the medbay with Conner receiving some treatment right now.

Maybe you could blame it on the chaos. Maybe you could blame it on the fact that with everyone so emotionally distraught, you didn’t want to be just another problem for everyone to fuss over.

“Whoops.” You breathed out sarcastically. “I didn’t even notice.”

That last part was honest. In all the adrenaline, all your worrying over whether or not Jason was going to live as you watched him dangle so high off the ground - you truly hadn’t paid any mind to the injury.

“You didn’t-?” Jason huffed out in anger, but didn’t bother finishing the sentence.

Perhaps he partially understood himself, knowing how the adrenaline from a fight could stamp out pain. Or perhaps he knew how truly stubborn you were and he didn’t want to waste his energy arguing with you.

“You need this treated.” He added on.

No matter how fucked in the head he was, he never wanted to see you hurt. That was something he would definitely waste his energy on - wearing down your stubbornness until you let him or someone else in the house take care of the injury properly.

“Conner is worse off than I am.” You shrugged. “He needs the attention more.”

“Then let me help you.” He said, an impatient nagging rising up in his throat. “Bruce gave me some first aid training. One thing that means I’m not totally useless.”

The words made your chest ache for him, a pain that easily competed with the bleeding wound.

“Jason-”

You wanted to argue with him. You wanted to tell him he had infinite worth to you.

But of course, he cut you off.

“Just go sit on the bed.” He told you, quiet, but a firm command that you couldn’t ignore.

He gently pushed past you, on a quest for some supplies to patch you up with. You then found yourself drifting into his room almost mindlessly, your hand clutching the wound again upon instinct. It was a place that you felt oddly at home. The nights you had spent in that bed since coming to Titans Tower, your head delightfully empty as he had fucked you hard and fast - they were by far your favourites.

You would say it was because of the sex, and not just because you got to be wrapped up in Jason’s arms. Maybe everything had changed. Maybe your answers were different now. Maybe you were raw and tender and Jason wasn’t prepared to chase you in that devotion.

But that was just the thing. With you and Jason, there was never any sense of devotion. You and Jason were always hard and fast. Teasing each other, verging on the edge of vengeful. It was a flame that burned intensely hot - but it was never anything soft. It was never anything that prompted you to knock on his door so late, wanting to check on his well being. It was nothing that prompted you to make chase to put your life on the line for him.

Even just knowing that he had the intent to attend to your injury, called himself useful because of it - the thought cradled you like a warm blanket. It had you balancing on the edge of a dam holding back a barrage of feelings that you had been quelling down since the moment you had first put your lips on his.

“I told you to sit.” Jason’s voice came from behind you.

He had raided the infirmary and now had a handful of supplies - luckily without anyone seeing him or questioning why. When you turned to him, he was closing the bedroom door behind him, sealing you both in with this newfound soft intensity, the tired lull of two people unwilling to hold back that softness anymore. It was entirely dangerous, and entirely life-saving at the same time; and neither of you realized it.

“Since when do you get to boss me around?” You told him, your voice low and lacking any true spirit or sarcasm.

It was in the same vein as the banter the two of you usually threw around - bickering about who was a bigger asshole, who was more stubborn, who was better in bed.

You expected some kind of sexual comment in return. You could almost hear it now - he was the boss of you because he made you melt on his cock, made you mindless and dumb with it.

But, no dice.

The longer you stared at him, catching bits of the fresh pain swimming through those gorgeous blue eyes, you wished so badly for the mischief and sarcasm and light to come back and bite you the way that it used to.

It only made your stomach churn harder at the whole situation. Things had officially changed between you and Jason. You had yet to find out if it was for the better, or for the painstakingly worse.

Jason sighed through his nose.

“You can be such an asshole sometimes.” He told you. Coming from him, and given the nature of your relationship, you knew it was almost a compliment. “Will you just sit down and let me help you?”

Even though you were utterly terrified of the swelling of emotions you felt, bound to come to a head - you did.

You sat on the edge of the bed and he placed the supplies beside you.

When he mumbled out a quiet ‘lay back’, and you did, his cool fingertips at the hem of your shirt pulling it upward felt strangely more intimate than any other time you had been in this same position. It wasn’t heady, you weren’t granted the distraction of his mouth on yours and his tongue shoved between your lips while a harsh throbbing nagged between your legs.

This was quiet, and calm, and gentle.

When you caught his eye above you as he wiped away the blood with some clean gauze, you saw nothing but pity and worry and sparkling affection for you. You almost dared to call it something as epic and dangerous as love, buried deep in his eyes. He worked with the most delicate touch, almost as if he was afraid to break you, before he glanced down and inspected the wound.

His brow furrowed with even more intense worry, guilt nipping at his insides when he got a good look at it.

“I think I see a bullet in here.” He told you, and then he moved around the bed and grabbed his phone, turning on the flashlight to have a better light to inspect it. You felt intensely naked, intensely caught when he began shining the light on your stomach with a harshly inquisitive look across his face. “Definitely something shiny. You got shot and you didn’t fucking tell anyone?”

It was only then that you realized when you had gotten the wound - the exact moment clicking into place in your mind.

“It was only a ricochet.” You argued quietly. “It’s not that bad.”

Jason scoffed and rolled his eyes, and began sorting out his supplies, preparing to pull out whatever was lodged inside of you.

…

Dick explicitly told you to stay put.

They only wanted the more experienced Titans, the Varsity squad on the case when dealing with Deathstroke. He blamed young naive incompetence as the reason Jason had gotten captured in the first place. You blamed him and Bruce pushing Jason out, making him feel like he needed so desperately to prove himself. But it was something Dick wasn’t ready to hear - an argument you weren’t going to have with the very stubborn team leader.

Instead, you went for the silent route. You trailed the rest of them out of Tower, and when Dick strayed away from the rest of the group, his head on a swivel as he glanced back and forth, seemingly wanting to assure that none of the others were following him - you followed your gut instincts and went after him.

You hid in the shadows and the moment that Deathstroke hit the button and those panels scrolled up, revealing Jason stranded on that scaffolding - you couldn’t help yourself.

“Jason!”

You screamed out his name, you leapt forward.

Dick didn’t have time to scold you, not before the gunfire started.

Kory came out of nowhere - seemingly, she had the same idea as you. Putting her life on the line for an emotionally repressed man that she hadn’t admitted her feelings for. But she was there because she was in love with the other Robin. (Or rather, a man who claimed over and over again that he wasn’t Robin.)

Things quickly became a blur - flashes of flame as Kory fought, battling with the muzzle flashes from Deathstroke’s guns, limbs flying as they fought each other. You didn’t see it, but Deathstroke raised and aimed at you as you rushed toward the window, blindly going after Jason. In response, Dick charged forward, redirecting the gun as he pulled the trigger. You heard the sharp ‘ping’ sound of metal on metal - what you couldn’t see was the bullet hitting one of the metal beams in the ceiling. But you certainly felt it when it sliced into your side.

At the time, it was nothing compared to the fear you felt for Jason.

His eyes were wide with terror, and you could only focus on getting him to safety. You had no idea that a large part of his panic came from seeing you in the building. He had hoped that Dick would keep you away from all of this. But there you were, standing a few feet away from a man with a gun who was shooting around wildly. Jason would have delighted in being dropped off the building to his death if he had to see you get fatally shot when he could do nothing but squirm on the other side of the glass.

You put two hands on the glass, banging on it - of course, it was no use. It was inches thick, meant to keep people from going through it at this height. Working entirely on instinct, you put your palms flat across it and began forming ice crystals over it, hoping to make it rigid and breakable if it was frozen.

Once there was enough ice, you quickly looked around and spotted a metal pipe there for the in-progress construction of the building, so you grabbed it and rushed to smash the glass with it. You felt victorious as it shattered, and Jason flinched away from the shards, putting you one step closer to freeing him.

Though the moment the glass was cleared, leaving the wind whipping around you, his first words of greeting to you were not celebratory.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He barked at you, clearly angry with you.

You felt a dull ache in your chest at this. You thought he might be relieved, happy, pleased. At the time, you couldn’t interpret his harsh reaction as worry for you possibly getting hurt.

Nonetheless, you ignored his harshness. You would save him, whether he wanted to be saved or not. You draped your body through the window, reaching out to him. You made an effort to keep most of your weight planted on the floor of the building, in case the scaffolding wasn’t stable enough to hold two people at once.

“What do you think?” You replied, pure sarcasm dripping through your voice as you reached behind Jason and began fiddling with the rope around his wrists.

The position put the two of you in intensely close proximity. Jason caught a whiff of your unique scent, the shower gel you used that mingled with your body’s natural oils; and he felt so painfully at home. For the first time that night, he held back tears. He couldn’t help but to lean his forehead on your shoulder, taking comfort in having you so near after being on edge and terrified for so many hours. You resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair, to cradle him and give him further comfort. You forced yourself to focus on the task at hand - getting him to safety.

Behind you, at the very back of the room, Dick and Deathstroke wrestled with the remote for the explosives attached to the scaffolding.

Just as you managed to get Jason’s wrists freed, Deathstroke hit the switch, and the bombs went off.

…

You winced loudly as Jason dabbed at the wound with disinfectant.

“I would say sorry… but, you’ll thank me later when this isn’t swollen and leaking puss.” He told you, throwing you a small smirk.

It was smug. It was the usual kind of humor that he gave you.

It was comforting to know that every trace of the Jason you knew hadn’t been stolen by Deathstroke.

You held your breath as he pressed down with the medicine-covered gauze again, drawing much less of a reaction out of you this time.

“Great mental image, Jay.” You replied, your voice dull. It lacked any of the true bite you wanted to deliver in response to him. “I’m sure it’s such a turn-on thinking about my puss.”

It was meant to be a joke. But even unconsciously, it was an acknowledgement of that dangerous line - the line between truly caring and just using someone for sex. The line between having someone in your life as a body to get off with, and being so… homely with them.

You and Jason were towing that line dangerously. It was a thread that you were balancing on, and it would either break, or you would cross to the other side and be forever bonded to him.

Jason shrugged. “Maybe I don’t have to be turned on by you all the time.”

There was more stuck in his throat. Another dangerous acknowledgement of that line.

‘Maybe I just have to care.’

Both of you lulled into silence because neither of you dared to say it.

After a few moments, Jason put down the gauze and hesitated to reach for the tweezers. He knew that pulling the bullet out would be painful, but inevitable. It was a lot like the state of your relationship with him. Break it off, and find happiness elsewhere, or acknowledge this big thing swelling to fruition between the two of you. Have Jason fuck it up eventually. Painful, but inevitable.

“You shouldn’t have to be hurt like this.” Jason said quietly. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt for my sake.”

There it was again - words with a dangerous double meaning.

You looked up at him, pure pain knit across his face, and for a moment he looked from the tweezers to you and he could hardly stand holding your gaze.

‘It’s worth it.’ You wanted to say. ‘For you, I’d bear any pain.’

The words lived and died behind your eyes, and your tongue decided on something else entirely.

“It’s nothing.” You told him.

You downplayed the pain, pretending that the injury was only a minor inconvenience for you. And in the grand scheme of life, it was. With time, it would heal. Losing Jason would be something you’d never heal from.

Jason shook his head at this statement.

He forced himself to reach for the tweezers then. He handed you his phone, a silent agreement that you would hold the light as steady as you could. He knew you well, too well, and he knew that you needed something else to focus on to push away the pain. He put his free hand on the plush of your stomach, pulling back slightly to hold the wound open while you held the light on it.

When the sharp metal of the tweezers breached your wound, you wanted to swear. You wanted to call him an asshole as the pain shot through you. You wanted to scold him for leaving the Tower and being kidnapped in the first place. But you knew that even if it was playful or sarcastic, fueled by the bite of your pain, it was not what he needed to hear right now. So instead, you held your breath, and gripped his phone hard, keeping the light steady as you bared the sharp shocks of pain.

After a moment of digging around that felt like an eternity, he pulled out the fragment and held it up to show you as you collapsed back against the bed, panting with tears stinging the edges of your eyes.

“It’s not nothing.” He declared sharply.

You couldn’t conjure a response. You knew he was right. And you didn’t want to be forced to admit it.

Instead, you turned off the light from his phone and relaxed into the bed, closing your eyes as he walked around to the trashcan and threw out the bullet fragment. It fell into the bottom of the plastic wastebasket with a very small ‘ping’ - making you wonder how something so small could cause so much trouble.

Jason quickly returned to you, dabbing more disinfectant into the wound in a way that made you groan and flex away from the touch. Once again, he did not apologize.

There were a few moments of muddy silence with nothing but your slightly labored breathing, trying to contain your sounds of pain so as to not make him feel any further guilt about the whole incident.

Your mind churned, and you couldn’t help the next words that came from your mouth.

“I meant what I said.” You told him.

At the sound of this, his hands immediately stilled. You felt his eyes on you, and you forced yourself to open your own and look up at him once again. He stared you down with intense examination. He looked for any ounce of falsity, any sign that you were lying, even posturing to make him feel better after everything that had happened.

He didn’t find any.

You thought he might acknowledge you, that he might say something back to return your mighty words. Instead, he simply reached for more gauze, and began putting a final bandage on your wound.

…

The explosion caused a sharp rattle through your ears. It shocked you and made you dizzy and put the whole world off-kilter. The only thing you could perceive past the mind-numbing hum in your brain was the feeling of Jason’s rough glove gripping tightly onto your wrist, so you gripped back as hard as you could.

When you blinked open your eyes, you were half-hanging out of the open window, the edge of the floor cutting into your waist as you held onto Jason by nothing but his wrist. His whole body weight created a harsh burn, straining on the muscles in your shoulder as you watched him dangle hundreds of feet above the street.

Panic flooded you.

You scrambled to reach out with your other hand, and the moment you moved, your shirt slipped against the sleek, polished material of the floor and you began sliding out the window. You gasped and Jason stilled his panicked flailing immediately.

“Don’t move!” He shouted.

“Give me your other hand so I can pull you up!” You shouted back.

Beyond the unpleasant hum of your eardrums rattling, you still heard chaos behind you. Gunshots, the grunts of fighting, Kory and Dick’s voices yelling. They were busy with Deathstroke, they couldn’t help you or Jason.

Jason looked up at you with glassy eyes.

He knew that with all his gear weighing him down, even with the training you had been doing, you wouldn’t be able to pull him up. Not by yourself. And if you weren’t careful, his body weight would just pull you out of the window and cause you to go tumbling down to your death along with him.

When you saw that frown etch across his lips, that filthy look of dawning - you glared at him.

“Give me your other hand!” You screamed, your voice raking across your throat like hot coals. A hot boiling rage at the fact that he seemed almost determined to die.

There was one thing he was determined about. If he was going to die, he wasn’t going to take you down with him.

His gloved wrist started to slip from your nervous, sweaty palm, and you tried hard to hold on tight. You formed large shards of ice, hoping you could create some kind of bond there by freezing your hand to his. But it would only be temporary with gravity trying to tear the two of you apart.

“You have to drop me, Y/N.” He said, nothing but pure mourning on his lips. “I’m dead weight.”

You both knew it was a horrendous double meaning.

He thought he was a dead weight to your life.

“No!” You immediately defied this thought, that feral rage ripping at your throat once again. “I’m gonna pull you up. I’m gonna pull you up!”

You reached your other hand down and tightly wrapped both of your hands around his wrist, yanking upward. The harsh movement caused you to slide even further out the window. You were now dangling dangerously over San Francisco with only the thickness of your thighs giving you any real stability on the intensely high up floor. It made you dizzy, and the only thing you had to focus on were the wet wells of Jason’s eyes staring up at you.

“It’s no use!” Jason said tearfully.

You ignored him.

You cast your chin over your shoulder, and began shouting.

“Help me!” You screamed, trying desperately to get the attention of Dick or Kory. “Help me! Fuck!”

“You have to let go.”

Jason’s words immediately shifted your focus back to him.

But of course, you refused.

“I’m not letting go of you!” You declared sharply. “Not that easily.”

As he stared up at your tearful eyes, he knew that you meant it as more.

Unfortunately, it was the one thing he was terrified of.

He thought that you saw him as some shiny perfect thing, something good and worth having in your life. He thought that you were incapable of seeing the poison, the true fuck-up that he was. If you didn’t let go of him, sooner or later, just like everyone else in his life, you were going to get burned.

So Jason did what he had to do.

He began prying your fingers off his wrist, trying his best to keep you stable while he forced himself from your grip.

“No!” You shrieked. “No, no, no-”

You didn’t have much room to fight him about it without falling out of the window yourself.

You made a move to readjust, to get a tighter grip on him - and it was the one deadly move that caused him to slip out of your touch completely.

You were forced to watch on in chest clenching horror, blinking through heavy tears as he began hurtling toward the ground.

…

If not for Conner - a literal miracle - swooping in and saving Jason at the last second, then you would have spent the rest of your life regretting those moments, wondering what you could have done differently to save him.

When Jason finished taping down the bandages, making sure the wound was clean and secure, he laid his palm flat on top of it. It was a kind of ‘kissing it better’ that instantly spread warmth curling through your gut. It was a touch so incredibly tender - especially compared to the heated, aggressive groping you were used to from him - that it caused a whimper from the back of your throat.

You knew it was unlikely, but you hoped that he hadn’t heard it.

“All done.” He said quietly.

You instantly felt regret when he took his hand away and began tidying up the medical supplies. But you forced yourself to sit upright, now feeling only muscle soreness and a much duller pain coming from the area. You felt intensely thankful for his care as you pulled your shirt back down, righting your clothes back into place.

“You’re free to go now.” Jason told you, his voice still low, as though a single decibel would shatter the delicate peace between the two of you.

You felt your heart sink.

In an instant, you understood what it was - he was concerned about your physical wellbeing, but he didn’t actually want to have you around. Just like his reaction to you showing up at the hostage exchange - he didn’t want your presence there.

You heaved a sigh and got off the bed as Jason busied himself with gathering up the used gauze to throw it away. As you put your hand on the doorknob, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to leave.

It was something else.

It had to be something else.

Jason hadn’t let himself drop off a building in some desperate ploy just to get away from you. He had been trying to save you.

He was so utterly willing to give his life for yours.

And now he was trying to back down from that.

You turned and faced him, leaving the door closed. When he turned from ditching things in the wastebasket, he froze. He was entirely surprised that you were still there.

The two of you locked eyes, both staying still - like a predator and prey locked in a stalemate, wondering who would run first.

In this situation, you weren’t sure who was the prey.

You were both so vulnerable.

Jason thought it would be selfish to get caught up in all of this, to finally admit those dangerous feelings he had for you. When he cared for things, he usually ended up breaking them. Of course, it was never on purpose - he was an idiot. Everything he touched, he fucked up. He had made that more than evident with his last braindead plan, the outing to prove that he was worthy of being Robin. Something that had gotten you shot, probably could have gotten you killed.

If you stuck with him any longer, you probably would end up being killed. And he would never forgive himself for that.

He would be better off ripping himself from your hold, as much as it hurt. Giving you a dose of that heartbreak now so that you could get over him and go after better things.

As you stared at Jason, you could see all the pain boiling underneath his surface. You wondered what he was thinking, what the hell he was churning over in that intense brain of his - but you didn’t dare to ask.

You knew that he needed to be held right now - in every sense of the word. You knew that he needed to be cared for the way he had cared for your wound, pushing past the pain in order to heal. You wondered if he would lay down and bear it or if he would continue to fight you.

You were the one to bravely step forward. Though Jason was tempted to ask you to leave, that thing inside of him yearning to marinate in his isolation because he deserved it, he pushed it down. He let his hands naturally come to sit on the plush comfort of your waist as you put a gentle touch on both his shoulders, leaning into his body ever so slightly.

You laid your forehead on his cheek, right next to that ugly bruise that had been left on him, and he let out a contented sigh as he felt your warmth envelope him. For the first time since his feet had touched the ground, he felt calm. He felt safe.

You smoothed a hand across his shoulder, and raised your head, using your touch to gently tip his face toward yours. He quickly realized that your intention was to kiss him. And something ached in his heart - something painful and longing. He knew that it would not be needy and haste with the intention of pile-driving toward sex like your other kisses had been. He knew that it would be the metamorphosis of your relationship that he was not prepared to go through.

He nuzzled along your forehead, gently stopping you.

“Please don’t do this.” He murmured quietly into your skin.

He knew that it would break him.

He knew that this was the moment - like Gatsby reaching up toward the stars - this would be the moment that he was tied to you forever, damned by his love for you. Only, much different than Gatsby, he wasn’t destined for some grant fate if he didn’t have you. He was on a one way path to a messy death, and he was determined not to take you down with him.

Tears pricked the edges of his eyes at the thought.

You pulled back, just enough to properly look him in the eyes, and your own tears formed when you saw that pathetic puppy dog looking back at you.

“Why not?” You demanded, much sharper than you intended. You knew he was fragile and you didn’t want to upset him any further than he already was.

“You know why.” He replied, his voice barely scraping above a whisper as the emotion clutched at his throat.

Jason wanted to hold onto you forever, but he was also a realistic person. He expected that any minute now, you would rip away from his arms and charge out the door, entirely angry with him, and this would finally be over. You would finally be safe from him - safe from any nasty fate his life could conjure up for you.

You hated what he was asking of you - asking you not to care for him anymore. As if you could somehow switch it off. Impossible.

“I meant what I said.” You repeated yourself, still entirely firm in this conviction. “I’m not gonna let you go that easily.”

You leaned in, planting your lips on his in a light kiss. A pained sigh ripped through you when he didn’t make any moves to kiss you back.

“Jason, please.” You whimpered out desperately. “If you get to bandage my bullet wound, then I get to do this.”

Jason wanted to spell it all out for you, plain and dirty. He wanted to get angry, he wanted to scream. He wanted to rush along the inevitable. He wanted to tell you what a poison he was to the world, that he deserved to die and you deserved better things. But he had the utmost feeling that you wouldn’t listen.

“Please, stop pushing me away.” You whispered against his lips.

Instead, he listened to your plea. He let himself indulge in this selfish softness for once.

He reached up and grabbed your jaw, pulling you into a firmer kiss, declaring every ounce of passion and terror that he was feeling in those moments. You answered it all right back - digging your fingers into the shoulders of his shirt, letting out a hot huff against his cheek as you leaned into his body.

He would never be perfect - but he was yours.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie. That is still my username on AO3, so if you saw this fic posted on there, it is my fic. Please do not accusing me of plagiarising fics if you see this, because this is my own fic. This is my new blog. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

376 notes View Post

whydoyoucare866

9 months ago

i know that’s right🗣️🗣️

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whydoyoucare866

8 months ago

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

3K notes View Post

whydoyoucare866

11 months ago

[3:47 PM] Sakusa Kiyoomi

Writing side smut stories is way easier - trying hard to break out of this writer's block for the two ongoing stories.

Warning: smut, Omi is a virgin; on an Omi rush

Kiyoomi was not only an extreme germophobe but also an extreme rule follower.

When he injured his right wrist from a terrible fall after a last-second spike, it resulted in a fracture that required his wrist to be put in a cast.

“You need to refrain from all activities, even cleaning. You’ve put too much stress on your body and need to rest,” his primary provider instructed, aware of his extreme cleaning hobby.

He was ordered off the roster for the next six weeks before his next X-Ray appointment.

His day couldn’t get worse…

Until he got home and saw an unfamiliar face in his home.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She cocked her head and raised a brow, “I am your temporary cook and cleaner, Mr. Sakusa.” She reminded him that his cook and cleaner, Mrs. Kikuchi is on vacation for the next eight weeks and she is the temporary replacement.

“Oh,” he uttered, remembering that he was going to have a new person filling in. “Sorry, I had a rough day… can you get me something to eat?”

The frown on this person’s face shifted into a smile, “absolutely, what would you like?”

“An omelet, light on the salt and make the egg slightly runny.” He is suddenly reminded of how it took Mrs. Kikuchi weeks before finally getting his request right. Kiyoomi prepared himself for an overly-cooked omelet.

Five minutes later, his eyes widened at the pretty omelet before him. That was cooked perfectly, just like how he wanted it.

He eyed her suspiciously, not knowing why, before taking a bite.

He groaned.

Groaned.

Fuck, this is delicious! He thought, devouring more of his meal.

He struggled to eat with his non-dominant hand but was too hungry to care.

“Would you like for me to cut your omelet for you?”

Kiyoomi blinked, shocked at her question before answering, “y – yes, if you can?”

Y/n nodded and reached to cut his food for him.

His eyes dart between his food and this woman he’s only known for twenty minutes. He can’t remember the last time he had his food cut up for him and can’t figure out why he was feeling hard from the simple non-intimate gesture.

He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

“Can I get you anything for you to drink?” Y/n asked with a smile that had a hint of satisfaction behind it.

His heart rate increased at her smile, and he stuttered, “o – orange juice, please.”

This woman was maddening.

Not only did she turn him on and made him horny almost 24/7. She also made him frustrated because she wanted to go out after her shift.

“It’s raining.” He argued, gesturing to the window blurred by the heavy downpour. “It’s too dangerous to go out.”

She called his name, his fucken weakness, and prayed she doesn’t look south cause he felt his cock twitch to life.

“It’s just raining, I’m just going out for my friend’s birthday and I’ll be back.”

After two days, Y/n was staying in his home, with him, in the guest room.

Unlike Mrs. Kikuchi, who came to his house every morning for her shift, Y/n stayed with him since he was going to be home for six weeks for recovery. He calmly, yet desperately begged her to stay with him, giving her the excuse that he’d need her more since he would be home more frequently.

Kiyoomi went as far as making a mess and dirtying himself and his home for Y/n to take care of, just to have her in his presence.

“Yes, I’m aware it is raining, Y/n, and it’s not safe to go out.” He blocked her in with his left arm. “If – if something happens to you…” I wouldn’t know what to do, “I’ll – I’ll go hungry…”

Her mouth curved into a smirk, “Sakusa Kiyoomi, are you only using me for my cooking skills?”

I want to use you and let you use me in anyway way possible, he wanted to answer. Sexually.

“No…” he breathed, his breath heavy. “I just don’t want you to go,” he answered honestly.

Y/n’s fingers touch the bottom of his shirt before lightly trailing up his chest. “Your actions… some might think… you are implying something…”

“Like?” He whispered.

Her fingers suddenly gripped the collar of his shirt and tugged him forward until their lips were mere centimeters apart. “That you want me.”

Kiyoomi’s eyes glance between her eyes and lips and suddenly the anxiety of her leaving him disappeared and replaced with confidence. And horniness. “I do.” He breathed against her lips, “I want you, Y/n. Fucken badly.”

“I can tell, I can feel you.” His bulge was pressing against her belly.

Y/n pressed her lips lightly against his in a soft kiss, to gage out his reaction.

Like a starved and hungry man, he lunged at her, his left hand pressed behind the back of her head as his lips eagerly moved against hers.

Her hands rested at his waist and Kiyoomi groaned, he was ticklish and it felt weird to have someone hold his waist. But he loved it. Only Y/n’s touch. She pulled him against her until he sandwiched her against his kitchen wall.

“Fuck, your lips… taste so good,” he murmured, “I wonder how your other lips… will taste…”

She burst out laughing, her arms wrapping around his waist. “Kiyoomi… you never fail to amuse me.”

He wasn’t sure if her comment was sarcastic or not, but he didn’t care.

“Please,” he begged, just begging for anything.

She looked up at him, his dark eyes pleading also. “You want to taste my other lips?”

“I want to taste all of you.” He knocked his forehead against hers, “don’t go, stay with me. So I can please you.”

Y/n groaned, “how can I say no?”

“Say yes that you’ll stay with me, you won’t regret it.” He pulled her to his living room and forced her to take a seat on his expensive couch. He manhandled her until she was bare and naked in front of him, and he kneeled before her with her legs spread wide.

Y/n can sense the hesitation from him. “Second thoughts?” she half teased and was half serious. If he was regretting it, goodness, it would be an embarrassment for them both.

Kiyoomi shook his head, eyes set on the sight of her bare pussy before him. “I…” he choked, “I… actually haven’t done this before.”

Y/n’s eyes widen, “what?”

His tongue slips out to moisten his lips before biting down on his lower lip, looking slightly guilty. “I’ve never… actually… seen a naked woman before…” Y/n’s surprised look made him blurt out suddenly, “I’m actually… a virgin still.”

“Oh…” her voice emphasized on the word. “I would… have never guessed that.” When he looked disappointed, she quickly added, “I don’t mean it in a bad way!” she corrected. Y/n sat up and cupped his face, “Kiyoomi, you are gorgeous. Don’t think I haven’t seen you prancing around shirtless with your sweatpants hanging off your fucken hips. I would never have thought you were still a virgin.” His eyes stare deeply into hers and she’s unsure he got her message. “Being a virgin is okay, there’s nothing to be ashamed about it.” She rubbed the tip of her nose against his. “We don’t… have to do this… please don’t feel pressured to do this.”

He shook his head, pulling away from her gasp and looking into her eyes with determination. “Teach me how to please you, teach me how you want to be pleased… I’ll do it. I’ll learn…”

“Kiyoomi, how did you take care of yourself all this time? I’m sure… you had times when you needed some relief… right?”

His cheeks flushed, before he muttered, “don’t laugh, okay…” when she nodded he answered, “I get off with a sex doll.” He waited for her to laugh at him, to embarrass him.

But she never does.

He peers up at her, not realizing he looked away.

She looked at him with sincerity and caution, “are you sure, positively sure you want to do this?”

He nods.

Y/n let out a shaky breath and leaned back, widening her legs. She used her hand and spread her pussy lips, “see how I’m wet here?” Kiyoomi nodded. “You want to arouse me, get me wet like this, which… you did.”

“I did? How?” He looked up at her like a schoolboy genuinely curious.

“By begging me to stay in tonight, it was fucken hot,” she smiled brightly and then tapped her finger against her clit, “this is the –“

“Clit,” Kiyoomi answered in a whisper.

“Correct,” She relaxed against the couch, “now, touch me, you can graze your fingers against my pussy until you’re comfortable.”

His fingers glide against her pussy, coating his fingers. He pressed this finger pad against her clit, circling it. “I’ve seen… porn where… they do this… do you… like it?”

Y/n hummed. “When you’re ready, you can put a finger inside me.”

Kiyoomi gently inserted a finger and glanced up at Y/n who grimaced, watching his finger slowly disappearing more into her hole. “Am I hurting you?”

She shook her head, “no… feels good.” When his finger was knuckle deep, Y/n instructed him, “you can move your finger in and out if you’re ready.”

He does as he is told, pumping his finger gently in and out of her.

“When you are comfortable… you can add another finger.”

And he does, his forefinger and middle finger are both pumping in and out of her.

“You feel so… soft… and warm…”

Y/n’s hand gripped her knees, keeping her legs spread wide for him. She felt her eyes rolling back at just the feeling of his two fingers and she wanted more. “You’re not so bad yourself…” she murmurs.

She was becoming wetter by the second as he fingered her.

“Can you… take three fingers?” he asked cautiously.

Y/n opened her eyes, “if you want?”

He nodded eagerly and Y/n smiled, giving him the green light.

Kiyoomi inserts three fingers, quickening his pace. “Can… I also use my mouth?”

Y//n tensed, “I haven’t showered yet.”

“So?” he questioned.

“You’re not grossed?”

“With you, no?”

“If you want to.”

“I do,” he smiles before giving kitten licks to her clit.

Her back arched against the couch at the contact of his hot tongue. Seeing her reaction, Kiyoomi shifted his mouth and suckled the little nub hard until Y/n was wreathing against him.

He’s seen how men do it in porn videos and mimic it.

“God, Kiyoomi!” Y/n shouted.

Her pussy began tightening around his three fingers and he lift his mouth, “are you… close?”

She nodded, her cheeks flushed. “Yes… make me cum with your mouth and fingers.”

His eyes remained connected with hers as he suckled her clit and continued to pump his fingers.

“Am I doing a good job?”

“Yes! Yes, Kiyoomi… so good… so good for me.” She gripped his hair, “faster, I’m so close…”

Aiming to please, Kiyoomi brings out her orgasm. She shudders against his fingers and mouth and aside from volleyball and cleaning, he has never felt such satisfaction before.

When Y/n comes down from her high, Kiyoomi gently slips his fingers out and notices her wince.

“It’s okay… just your fingers filled me fully and I feel empty now.” She assures with a smile. She sat up and saw the mess she’d made on his leather couch. She looked at his crotch, he was hard against his jeans. “Should we… take care of that?” She nods at his bulge.

Kiyoomi’s cheeks blushed. “We don’t have to…”

“I want to, but I want you to want it too.” Y/n said sternly.

He nods, “God, I feel so silly.”

Y/n grabs him by his chin and gazes directly into his eyes, “not silly at all. Now, do you want to do this?”

“Yes,” he answered in a heartbeat.

Y/n smiled, “good, I’m happy to hear that. It seems like you’ve watched porn, is there a position you want to try for the first time?”

“Here,” he answered quickly, “how you just came in front of me. I want to have sex with you right here.”

“Okay,” Y/n answered, leaning back. “Take off your clothes then.”

He stripped so fast and was naked in seconds. Y/n couldn’t take her eyes off his cock that was standing proud and ready.

Kiyoomi reached for his jeans, fishing out a condom. He swiftly and smoothly slid it on and looked at Y/n, as if waiting for her permission.

Y/n was nibbling nervously at her lower lip, “I haven’t had sex in a long time but I’m ready whenever you are.”

He touched her pussy, feeling her wetness from moments ago. His eyes drop to her breasts, which he has neglected. Kiyoomi reached with both palms and fondled her breast.

A soft moan escapes her lips and Kiyoomi dips to take a perky rosy nipple into his mouth. He suckles and nips before switching to show the other side the same attention.

“The other day when you wore a low-cut shirt… it took everything in me to not push you against the fridge and suck your tits.” Kiyoomi leans forward and kisses Y/n, “let’s take it slow and easy?”

“Okay,” Y/n nodded and tensed when she felt the intrusion of his cock. She felt him pause and she exhaled, relaxing her body, slowly feeling more of him until he was fully inside her.

For a moment they savor the feeling of just being one. Kiyoomi’s body loomed over hers as her body curved against his leather couch.

“God, this feels good, so good…” he murmurs. His head drops against her shoulder. “Can I move now?”

“Yes, yes Kiyoomi.”

Hooking his arms around her body, he began thrusting his hips. His hips began moving faster by the second when he got the rhythm down. He felt Y/n’s nail dig into his shoulder blades and that encouraged him.

“Yes! Yes!” Y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, wrapping him closer.

His thrusts were becoming so deep that it was shifting his couch, scooting back with each thrust. He unwound his arms from around her and grip the back of his couch while continuing to thrust into her. His Y/n.

Now that he had a taste of a real pussy, there was no going back.

“So good… fuck… so good,” he cooed repeatedly, pounding into her heavenly pussy. “Best pussy ever…”

Y/n looked up into his eyes, a smirk on her lips, “but it’s the only real pussy you’ve had so far?”

Kiyoomi mirrored her smirk before his left hand snaked into her ruffled hair. He gripped the roots of her hair and growled, “the only one I want.”

The smirk on her lips disappeared and he smashed his lips against hers in a hungry kiss.

Y/n couldn’t believe the stamina that this man had. However, given that he played professional volleyball for a living, it made sense that his endurance was exceptional.

Even with sex.

He wanted more and more.

They fucked on many surfaces, the coffee table, against his glass window, on his kitchen island…

“E – enough…” Y/n pleaded, her arms trembling as her grip around his neck was slipping from their body sweat. He currently is carrying her, his strong arms supporting her from underneath her knees, making her spread wide and at his mercy, as he bounced her on his cock while standing.

They have used condoms littered all over his place. She didn’t know where he was pulling these condoms from, like had a magic bag full of them somewhere near.

Without withdrawing, Kiyoomi walked over to his kitchen counter and set Y/n at the edge. Slowly, he pulled out and his soft cock slipped out. The tip of the condom was full of milky white cum.

That was the last condom he had.

His breath finally calmed as he gently pushed Y/n’s head back to stare down at her. “Sorry… I got… carried away.”

Her lips curve upward into a tired smile, her eyes barely open. “Yes… you did.” She gently smacked his arm, “can’t believe you were carrying me with your injured arm.”

Kiyoomi shrugged his shoulder and looked at his cast, “it didn’t hurt.”

They laughed in sync before Kiyoomi pressed his forehead against hers. “Do… do you want to spend the night in my bed? With… me?” his voice was full of anxiety, waiting for her answer.

“I don’t want to be anywhere else.” . . .

>>> @queenelleee @mfreedomstuff @erintaro @callmeraider @chaotic-fangirl-blog @wolffmaiden @cloud-lyy

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whydoyoucare866

1 year ago

Hii I am more of a silent reader but really want to start making requests but if you don't like this request you totally don't have to do it. All so if this is too long sorry.

So maybe a Jason prompt with "why not them why me" like they have been spending more time with the Bat boys, making Jason jealous. They confesses they did it to be liked by her boyfriend's family.

Hey anon! Thanks for the request. I tweaked it a little, but it's got the same theme you requested. Hope you like!

jason todd x gn!reader. jealous/sad jason, happy ending, proposal, established relationship. he's the goodest boy. ft the batbros.

****

It's close to nine PM when Dick finally drops you off home.

You turn to Damian first and hold out your hand, expecting him to give you his usual handshake goodbye.

Instead, Damian pats your shoulder and gives you a nod. You blink, startled.

"Today was enjoyable," he says, holding the book about saltwater creatures that he got from the zoo. "I will inform Todd that he has chosen well."

In Damian speak, you may as well have gotten a hug and a blessing.

"Oh," you say, trying not to tear up. "Thank you, Damian. I had a good time, too. Thank you both for spending the day with me."

"This was a test," Damian says, and Dick rolls his eyes in the rear view mirror.

"Dami, stop calling it a test. It wasn't a test."

"Richard, I don't know why you insist on lying. They obviously have figured out that it was a test. In any case, they've passed, so it doesn't matter."

You hide a smile as Dick gives up and gets out of the car. He opens your door.

"I'll see you later, Damian," you say. "Good luck with your science test."

"I do not need luck," Damian replies. "But I appreciate the sentiment. Goodbye."

You follow Dick into your apartment building. You're happy; last week, you spent the day with Tim and Cassandra. The week before that, you officially met Bruce and Alfred.

Dick and Damian were the last "test," and the ones you were most nervous about. From what Jason's told you about his family, Dick and Damian, while total opposites in temperament, are extremely shrewd in their judgments of character, and not easy to please. For all that Dick is friendly and warm, you know he's studying your every move to ensure that you're a good match for his little brother. Not that you blame them; you're sure that being children of a billionaire has resulted in some awful dates.

Today was your fourth outing with Dick, and your second with Damian. At first, Damian seemed totally closed off to you, which you understood. You're his brother's partner; what twelve year old gives a shit about that?

But you feel you've made good progress today. You feel like the Wayne's really like you, and don't just tolerate you because they have to.

"Please don't listen to him," Dick says while you wait for the elevator. "Damian thinks every social interaction is a test. We're working on it."

"It's okay," you say, because it is. "I get it. I'm glad I passed."

Dick shakes his head. "It was never a matter of passing. We thought you were great the first time Jason introduced you to us."

"Dick..." You melt at that, both out of relief and fondness. Dick is probably your favorite one of Jason's brothers, after Damian, of course. He's the most sympathetic to your attempts at connecting with the family and the one who's the gentlest with you.

He smiles, all sunshine, and you're abruptly glad that Jason has a family like this one.

"Are you gonna ask him this week?" Dick asks.

You bite your lip, unable to hide your smile. "I think so. What do you think?"

"I think it's perfect. He doesn't like all that fuss. And you'll be letting him know that you want to marry just him. Not when you're dressed up, on a date, but all of him."

"I do," you say, voice thick. "I do want that, D."

He nods, eyes soft. "I know. I'll see you next week," he says. "Don't worry about the dinner, okay? You're practically family now. And I expect to see a ring!"

He pulls you into a quick hug, and you sag in relief. You did well. It's been confirmed.

"Thank you," you say softly.

The elevator doors open. Dick lets you go, and you wait for the doors to close before you go to your apartment.

"You're out late."

You jump, almost dropping your bag of zoo souvenirs. Jason is leaning against the couch, arms folded. You laugh a little, holding your chest.

"Jay, you scared me! Jeez."

You go to him and lean in for a kiss. He dodges you, slipping away to the kitchen to get a glass of water.

You blink owlishly, trying to process what just happened.

"Um," you begin. "Is everything okay?"

"So where was it this time?" Jason asks. "Escape room? Art museum? Some other place you can't be seen with me?"

"Jason, what are you talking about?"

He finally looks at you. His gaze is intense, lethal. It makes you take a step back. He turns away.

"Where'd you go today? And be honest."

"We went to the zoo, and then we went to dinner. Me, Dick, and Damian. Jay, what's this about?"

Jason looks up. His gaze is no longer lethal; now it's just melancholy.

"Are you with me to get to them?" he asks.

"Get to who?"

"The Bats. Gotham's finest. Bruce Wayne's rag-tag group of orphans he can't stop collecting."

"Are you asking me if I'm in this relationship to get to your family?" you ask, unable to keep the frustration out of your voice.

"Yes. That's exactly what I'm asking. I'm asking if you like my media-trained, not-undead family who you can actually spend time with publicly. I'm asking if you like my Boy Wonder brother, who'd probably show you a better time than I can."

"Jason Wayne, I have never cheated on you or thought about cheating on you. With Dick or anyone else," you say firmly. "Now, what's this about?"

Jason's face falls.

"You're right," he says quietly. "That was stupid 'f me to say. I know you're faithful, baby."

He won't look you in the eye now. It is reminiscent of the beginning of your relationship when Jason would retreat whenever you argued. It wasn't until you confronted him about it that you learned that he thought every argument was your last and that you'd break up with him the next day.

"Jay," you say, getting closer. "Something's obviously bothering you. Talk to me, please."

He stays quiet. You get close enough to touch him, but you don't, in case he's not ready to be touched yet.

"Why me?" he rasps.

"Why you what?"

He takes a sharp breath. "Why not them? Why me? Why d'you bother with me?"

"Jay, baby, where's this coming from? I don't bother with you, I love you. I am in a relationship with you because I want to be."

"You've hung out with them this whole month," he mumbles. "And I know we can't go out anytime 'cause I'm technically dead, but I just—I mean, we could work something out if you really wanna go. I wanna do that stuff with you too."

"Jason, no, no," you say, and reach for him. This time, he lets you pull him into a hug, and you kiss his chin. He makes a soft sound in his throat.

"Oh, honey, is that what this is about? You think I'm replacing you?"

"'S happened before," he mumbles, and you screw your face up so you won't cry at that.

"Jason, I—" You take a deep breath and release him until you're holding his hands. "Fuck me, I guess there's no time like the present."

Jason squints. "What're you—"

"I met them to ask for their blessing," you say before you can lose your nerve. "I hung out with them because I wanted to make sure they'd like me, and I should've told you, but I wanted to keep it a surprise."

"Keep what a surprise? Sweetheart, what's—"

You let go of Jason's hands and get down on one knee. Jason's eyes go wide.

"Holy fuck," he says, and you laugh wetly.

"Jaybird, we've been together for a long time, and I'm positive that you're the person I want to spend the rest of my life with. I hung out with your family this month so I could be sure that we'd get along. Because I know they're important to you, even if you have your rough patches."

"Holy fuck," Jason says again, eyes glassy.

You smile and pull out the black velvet box with the ring that Alfred had helped you choose.

"Jason Wayne, I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you—mmph!"

Jason is on you in an instant, and the box tumbles from your hand. He presses you to the floor and kisses you hard, his hands squeezing your waist.

"Jay, this part is supposed to come after we get married, not before," you say when he finally lets you break for air.

"What can I say? Commitment gets me hot."

You wrap your arms around his neck, comfortable under him. Jason kisses you again, softer and sweeter.

"So is that a yes?" you ask.

"It's an emphatic yes, oui, si, ja, da..."

"Okay, I get it, Bruce put you in private school," you say, rolling your eyes. Jason pinches your hip and you squeal.

He rolls you over so you're atop him.

"I'm sorry I said those things," he says. "I didn't—I know you wouldn't do that. I was just upset, but I shouldn't have accused you out of anger."

"I forgive you," you say and kiss his temple. "It's not the last fight we'll have, and if I was afraid of a few arguments, I wouldn't ask you to marry me, Jay. Thank you for communicating."

"Fuck, I love ya," he whispers, and hugs you tighter.

"Ditto!" you say, and he snorts.

"So my entire family knows I'm getting married then, huh?"

"What? No. I only told Dick."

Jason laughs. "Yeah. Everybody definitely knows."

"Jay, I didn't mean..."

"Aw, baby, no, it's okay. I never thought I'd actually make it this far, so it's really okay." He kisses your nose when you start to frown. "And I'm the first Wayne to get married for real. Suck it, B!"

"Please don't put that in your vows, Jay."

Jason grins so hard, his cheeks puff out.

"No promises, fiance."

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