This Au Is The Funniest Thing Ive Read In A While

One Last Time

Mattheo Riddle x Reader

➸ summary: after weeks of torment, you find something that completely changes what happened between you and mattheo. things finally come to a head when you confront him about it

➸ warnings/notes: angst, eventual fluff, eventual smut (18+), soft!mattheo, fwb!reader, normal people quote🤫

A/N: second and final part to ‘through my fingertips’

word count: 3k

————————

THE DAYS DRAGGED into weeks as you floated through your daily life. Everything seemed like a dream, like you were only watching yourself from far away, but weren’t actually living your own life. Mattheo was no better, either.

He partied and attended classes like normal, but his usual escapades of finding women to “wine and dine” were long forgotten. The only thing occupying his mind was you and your last moments together. Everything was perfect, just like everything is with you - if only it wasn’t for the fact that his heart felt like it was ripping out of his chest when he slowly put his clothes back on. Your shoulders rising and falling as he tied his laces made his head fuzzy and the only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to crawl back in bed and take you into his arms.

If only that’s what he actually did. Instead he sat at your desk, watching you intently as you mumbled sleepily, your legs scrunched up in a fetal position.

A switch flipped inside of him that morning. He needed to get this thoughts out, to put them somewhere so that he didn’t have to carry it alone. The thought of burdening you with more than you were already harboring made the unbearable clench in his chest worse, so he opted to find a piece of paper and pen. Mattheo recalled you saying that whenever you were unsure of yourself, you wrote in your journal to help piece your mental state together.

So that was what he did. He wrote it all. From the day he met you to the day he realized he loved you, right to the very second that he was in, his eyes lingering on your slumbering form every so often.

When he left your room he scrunched it up and threw it in the trash in his room. There was no need for you to see it. It would only hurt you more.

The bell rang to signify the start of your lunch break. Really, you weren’t too hungry these days, but you followed your friends out to the courtyard anyway, hoping that their presence would lift your spirits. In your most desperate moments, you found yourself closing your eyes as you sat in the sunlight, imagining with all your might that the warmth was really Mattheo’s arms pulling you into him. That was always how you felt with him - warm.

But as warm as he was on the outside, he was just as cold on the inside.

As you leaned your back against the rough tree stump, you let the breeze take you away into your own memories. Your friend’s voices shifted into white noise, and the darkness behind your eyelids started to take form in the likeness of him.

You thought only of him. Those dark brown eyes that made you melt in his arms whenever he looked at you, how safe you felt when his head was rested on your shoulder from behind, and his arms wrapped around you securely. But most of all, you remembered how his voice sounded - how it would brush over your face when he kissed you goodbye.

He used to kiss you goodbye. Who does that in a casual relationship? Was he really leading you on - were you just too oblivious to notice his tricks?

A poke from your left broke you from the trance. Following the person’s gaze, you looked towards the end of the courtyard, your friend beginning to point at the intruder. There stood Theo, hands in his pockets as his eyes fixated on you. You didn’t know why he was here, or what he wanted. In all the time you were seeing Mattheo he never really tried to talk to you.

Turning away from him, you continued just as you were before. Ignoring every reminder that Mattheo existed while simultaneously daydreaming of everything being okay again.

Mattheo woke up with a racing heart. The night terrors he used to have morphed into dreams of you somewhere along the way. Maybe the change happened the morning that he came back from yours, or perhaps it was a gradual switch over the course of these painful few weeks. Whatever the cause was, he didn’t care to know. He just wanted it to be over; because the nightmares of his father coming back to find him were less terrifying than the reality he was living in. Making up images of you in his mind, only to awake cold and alone.

It was obvious what was going through his head. Each of his friends could tell, but Theodore was the only one who shared his pain. Mattheo never spoke about what you said to him, but on the days that Theo would sit with his friend in silence, trying to offer some sort of company and comfort, the choked sniffles and attempts at hiding his tears were enough indication that he was hurting badly.

Theo needed to do something. He couldn’t keep watching his friend ruin his own chance at happiness.

One evening he decided that enough was enough. The door to Mattheo’s room slammed open, the room void of any color and joy. Theo spent at least an hour looking around the room. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but when he found it he would know.

Fate must have been working with him because he noticed himself kneeling on the floor, hand reaching into the bin at the end of the room. He uncovered a wrinkled letter, Mattheo’s handwriting sprawled across it haphazardly.

He only read the first sentence, but he immediately knew that you needed to see it.

Feet moving faster than his brain, Theo ultimately found himself outside your bedroom. Not sure whether to knock or slip the note under the door, his jumbled mind somehow did both. You opened the door in no time, your eyes puffy and your hair pulled back from your face. He was used to seeing your bright, cheery smile, not this ghost of a person.

“Hi. I’m Theo,” he said stupidly.

You sighed, running your hair atop your head to push down any flyaways. “I know who you are, Theo. Why are you here?”

His eyes flitted to the floor where the white sheet stood, right next to the fluffy socks on your feet. He remembered the day that Mattheo bought you those, and he adamantly denied that they were from him. You knew, though, as you opened the “anonymous” gift with a big grin.

“You should open that,” he said, his eyes meeting yours once again. “If nothing changes after you read it, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Confused, you mumbled some sort of agreement and closed the door. You didn’t need his friends hounding you as well as the lingering memories of your time together. Leaning down, you picked up the letter and sat down on your bed. Your heart stopped when you noticed Mattheo’s signature handwriting - you knew because he always crossed his t’s dramatically, and you used to make fun of him for it.

———

Dear, To my,

When I first met you. If you asked me a month ago what love meant, I would’ve told you it was a made up fairytale that people tell themselves to feel better. That it’s a weakness and a burden, but when I first saw you that day in the hallway, I never really stood a chance. You wormed your way into my soul and made a home there, all cozy and pretty, just like you. Maybe I always knew that I was falling for you, but when you held me in the palm of your hand, so gentle and sweet, like I would break at any moment, I knew I was in deeper than I thought. No one has ever seen me the way you do - no one has ever pushed past the ugly and scary parts of me to find the one good sliver of humanity inside. If only You know that I'm not a religious person, but I do sometimes think that God made you just for me.

Your quiet snores are like music to my ears as I write this. I’m reserving it all to memory before I can never hear it again. I don’t blame you for thinking I don’t care, but I traced the words ‘I love you’ on your skin while you slept naked in my arms and I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for saying it through my fingertips instead of my mouth.

It’s If you ask me now, I’d say that love is sitting in front of a beautiful girl as she sleeps, writing letters to her that she’ll never see. To me, love is only found in the shape of you, and now as I sit in your room for the last time, I’m trying to make a mold of it to bring back with me. But nothing will be as good as the real thing.

Love, I realize now, is just you.

———

Tears dropped down your face, landing on the ink and causing it to bleed into a black mess.

If he had said half of this to you when he was here for the last time, perhaps things would’ve turned out differently. Maybe you just never gave him enough of a chance. There was no use in dwelling on it now; what’s done is done, and all that matters is what happens next.

You sat like that for half an hour, crying onto the paper as you reread the words over and over again. You had to find him.

Deciding against changing your clothes and completely forgetting to put on your shoes, you balled up the paper in your hands and sprinted out of your room. Eyes followed you along the corridors, worried murmurs and whispers shadowing your every move as you hurriedly looked through the common rooms and hallways. It was a Sunday. He was most likely in his room.

When Mattheo opened the door, the last thing he expected to see was you.

“You’re an idiot, Mattheo Riddle,” you said, your voice still quivering from crying all day.

He didn’t exactly disagree, but he also didn’t understand where you were coming from. Haven’t you been trying to ignore him? Something big must have happened for you to actually come to him.

“I know,” was all he said, too exhausted to question you or argue.

“No,” you said, pushing your way into his room. “You don’t understand. You’re an idiot.”

Mattheo’s nostrils flared. Did you only come here to insult him? He was already having enough of a hard time as it is, he didn’t need you reminding him of things he already knew.

Swinging the door closed, he crossed his arms against his chest. “Yeah, anything else you need to say?” he grumbled, his head throbbing from both anger and pure sadness.

He felt a piece of paper hit his head. When he looked to find the source, he recognized it within seconds. You read the note. How on Earth did you find it? He felt humiliated - he never thought he would bare his heart to someone like this, the concept too foreign for him to even comprehend.

“You let me think that you hated me! If you had just - if you told me, I wouldn’t have let you leave.”

A thick wad of spit traveled down his throat. He could barely swallow, his mouth was too dry. In all honesty, he wasn’t even hearing you properly - you said something about leaving?

“What?” he croaked.

“Tell me now. Tell me with your mouth, and not your fingertips,” you pleaded, searching his eyes for any indication that what he wrote was true. “Say it now and I’ll give you another chance.”

It was like the floodgates opened, and Mattheo’s resolve completely crumbled.

You read the letter, and you weren’t disgusted by his proclamation of love. Here you were, wanting him to reassure you that what he said was real, that he really meant it all. You did care, and you did want him in the same way that he wanted you - you were just as scared as he was.

Mattheo fell to his knees, his hands circling your waist and his brown locks finding refuge on your stomach. The tears wouldn’t stop flowing, and above him, your own sobs matched the rhythm of his. You messed with his curls as you cried it out together, his head digging into the fabric of your clothes, causing wet patches to form there.

“I’m yours. I’ve always been yours,” he cried, his grip on you only growing stronger by the minute.

You kneeled down to his level, your forehead meeting his as his and your salty tear droplets met together in the middle. Wiping Mattheo’s cheeks with the pad of your thumb, you whispered to him, your lips brushing against his at the proximity.

“Please come back to me,” you said.

“I am, I am,” he replied, so quickly that he almost didn’t even catch it. “Can we try again? Just one last time? I promise I’ll be better.”

With a nod of your head, the deal was sealed. You stayed wrapped up in eachother’s embrace for an eternity, the unspoken words between you being exchanged through every squeeze, and sniffle, and touch of skin. The need to be closer got hard to ignore, to the point that you were both so pent up and needy, that your lips found purchase upon his without you even thinking. It was like you were on autopilot.

Hands were pulling at his shirt, roaming across the planes of his torso as you grabbed at everything you could reach. He carefully stood up, lifting you along with him as he slowly walked you to his bed.

Mattheo guided you to lay down, his mouth trailing vows of love across your neck as his hands raised your shirt and bra off. He let his hands rest on one of your breasts, kneading it softly. Your skin was buzzing at the contact. You didn’t realize just how much you missed him until you felt the heat from his touch meet your inner thigh.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he muttered against your skin, his mind so hazy that he hadn’t even realized that he finally admitted to you what he was so afraid of admitting before.

Vision growing blurry, you nodded, a gasp interrupting the words that were about to come out. Mattheo’s fingers were already working through your folds, the deft movements bringing you closer to the edge. With every pump and curl, he punctuated it with a kiss on whichever body part he could reach. His knee pushed your legs apart further, wanting to have as much of you as he could.

“I’m so sorry,” he babbled, his eyes closing upon hearing your whiny sighs and moans. “You deserve everything. Let me give you everything.”

Your nails dug into his bare shoulder as you came with a loud cry, tears falling onto the bedsheets from the heavy emotions you were feeling. It was all too much. Mattheo’s words of affection, and the way he pulled your pants down so deliberately, ghosting his lips upon every inch of your legs - you might as well have died and gone to heaven.

Unbuckling his belt, you freed him from the confines of his clothes, hand closing around his shaft as he sighed in relief.

“I love you,” you said, craning your neck to capture him in another kiss. Mattheo rested his elbows beside your head, his eyebrows scrunching and his head nodding at your words.

“Say it again. Please,” he groaned.

The tip of his cock was brushing against the entrance of your hole, his own hand moving it up to trail along your lips every so often. It was a mess of wetness, the desperation you both felt for one another obvious.

“I love you, Mattheo,” you said, before a moan slipped out as he thrusted into you, so slowly that you felt like you’d pass out. Everything he did was without rush. He let himself rest inside of you for a moment, head resting in the crook of your neck as his breath tickled you.

Pulling back almost fully, he snapped his hips down harshly, before lifting them again, slow and meaningful. The combination of his deep thrusts and slow pull outs made you see stars, your thoughts completely gone from your mind as you held onto Mattheo for support. He was the only thing that was keeping you sane right now - even though he was also the one driving you crazy with pleasure.

“Missed you,” he spoke, his voice muffled by your hair. “You were made for me, I swear.”

Panting in unison, your movements sped up. Before even thinking about himself, Mattheo snuck his hand in between your bodies to flick your clit, the nub already slick with arousal. Your teeth scraped across his bicep, trying to hold back from being too loud. This only made him move faster, the only thing on his mind being your orgasm. Right now, you were his biggest priority, and you most likely would be for the rest of his life.

It wasn’t long before you reached your peak, Mattheo following close behind.

He collapsed on top of you, his breathing erratic and his heart racing a million times per minute. He was a little terrified that he was going to wake up and realize that this was all a dream, but when he opened his eyes he only saw you, a small smile playing on your lips as you let your eyelashes flutter closed.

“I meant everything I said in that letter,” he whispered against your collarbone. “I love you, and I’ll spend forever proving it to you if I have to.”

You turned your head to face him, heart softening at the way he looked at you - like you were everything. And to Mattheo, you were.

“Better get started then,” you said as your smile grew, “because we don’t have forever, but we do have all day.”

With a laugh, he kissed your lips once again, his tongue never having tasted enough of you. You needed to thank Theo big time.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @tomriddleslove @ahqkas @hoeforvinniehackerrr

©𝐜𝐫𝐯𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐝𝐠𝐟

Jealous :J.T. x fem!reader

Summary/idea: by @littleprettykitten:

Suddenly i have an urge to ride Jason Todd, marking his neck with bite marks and scratching his chest, all jealous and possessive because someone was flirting with him. I want that hunk of a man mewling under me, saying my name like a prayer and telling me how much he loves me. I want bruises on my hips because he was clutching them too tightly and his teeth on my breasts and shoulders because that was the only way he could muffle sounds he was making.

So, here it is.....

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI!

***

„You know, usually it’s me who make you jealous like that. ….” She whispered grinding her hips more into him, causing a groan to escape his throat.

“I didn’t….”

“Sh, baby.” She pecked his lips, lightly, teasingly, pressing her body closer to his, nibble fingers running around his abs, chest and shoulders, barely touching, igniting his fire and the need for more “don’t talk….. just feel me….”

Barely a few hours ago they left the house, finally finding some time for the long-overdue date. The plan was simple – movie and dinner. Just spending time together with no rush, no fighting criminals, no patching wounds.

Well, it did not exactly go as it was supposed to.

Sure, they get to the movie theater, but from that, the things started to go downhill, making the date less than romantic.

“Can you go and buy the tickets, Jay? I’ll just take a quick stop by the bathroom.”

“Sure, princess. You go and powder your nose or whatever else you have to do.”

So she went. And when she came back, there was a unfamiliar girl talking to Jason and fucking twirling the strand of the hair on her finger, making doe eye at Y/N’s boyfriend, giggling in a way-too-friendly way.

“Are you here alone?” the girl smiled, putting a hand on his biceps. “It’s such a coincidence I am too. And I could really use some company. “

“I’m not really interested.” He muttered, moving away from her touch. Y/N was the only person in the whole world that were allowed to get this close to him.

“Why not? You seem like you are in need of a girl’s attention. Clearly you are touch starved and I know how to take care of a man.”

“I actually got a girlfriend.” He hissed

“ Really? She’s not doing much of a good job then” the girl laughed “besides, I don’t see her.”

“turn around!” Y/N called from behind, silent fury on her face as the girl spun and looked her up and down “now you see her.”

“I don’t see much.” The girl smirked, but before Y/N could start a fight, Jason stood up from his seat, wrapped an arm around her waist and led her straight toward the screening room, whispering soft, reassuring words in her ear and caressing her skin gently. That did not, however, stop Y/N from turning her head and throwing the daggers at that freak who dared to even come close to her Jason. She just smirked vindictively and both girls knew what that was supposed to mean. 

He’s going to be mine.

Well, over Y/N’s dead body.

Much to Y/N’s displeasure, the girl entered the same room and took a seat right next to  them. Oh, great, now the movie might as well not even exist. The only thing Y/N was able to concentrate on now was the smell of too much used perfume, slight, flirty giggling and annoying whispering.

“You know, I think you could play the main role in that movie” the girl whispered, not even trying to hide what she was saying to Jay “you are so much more handsome than the lead….”

“Could you just stay quiet?” he mumbled

“And so well-build” the girl continued, touching his chest “all muscles, so hot.”

“Will you stop this? I told you I’m not interested.”

“Come on, sunshine. You have a chance to take me home. Aren’t you at least a bit interested how it could be with someone who’s open to some experimentation? Not all vanilla?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Your girl, obviously. I know she can’t satisfy a man like you.”

“What the….”

“Enough!!” finally Y/N snapped and jumped to her feet, getting some shouting and cussing about disturbing the peace. Well she couldn’t care less.

“Y/N, baby, please sit down and try to relax….” Jason tried to calm her down, but she was past that. Her eyes were burning with rage and fury, possessiveness of him finding the way out.

“Relax? She’s trying to seduce you!”    

“And clearly it’s working” the girl laughed.

“Do you want to take this outside you little…..?!” before Y/N could finish that sentence one of the cinema worker appeared behind them and, well, to say the least, kicked them out. Awesome. One hell of  a date.

But frankly, it gave Y/N the opportunity to drag Jason back to their place and that’s how he ended up splayed on the bed with her straddling his lips and riding him like crazy, not allowing him to take any action or even a single breath.

“Baby….. princess…..” he whined grabbing on her hips and trying to force her to move faster. The slow, punishing pace she set was slowly making him crazy.  “please…. Don’t tease me. You know that girl there did not….”

“She was fucking flirting with you!” she hissed, pushing his hands away, pining them by his sides and slowing down even more making him throw head back in frustration “and you’re mine.” Leaning forward she started kissing his exposed neck, licking and biting hard enough to form a hickey. The sign of belonging.  In the most visible place he would never be able to hide. “I want you to remember that.”

“Y/N…..” he panted, once again trying to grab her hips, but being too whiny and putty and weak because of all her actions. He never needed to say a thing, the sounds, the groans and moans he was making telling her how much pleasure she was giving him. But…. She was possessive. She wanted more from him and wasn’t going to let go until he was completely falling apart beneath her. She wanted to make a mess out of him to the point where all he wanted was her , her body, her touches. She wanted to wipe the thought of the rest of the female race off his mind. He was supposed to think only about her.

“Do you want me to bond you?” her right hand started tracing patterns on his chest “cause I know how to do that my pretty boy. Unless you behave….”

“No…. no, please….. Ah, I ….. I want …. Y/N……”

“I love it when you say my name like that, Jaybrid.” She whispered in his ear, picking on the pace, skin slapping on skin, echoing through the empty, dark room.

“Y/N….” he whimpered, wanting more, more, more, but unable to ask her for it, settling on anything she would give him. Consumed by her. By the lust and need. And yet, still holding back. The way his face was twisting in pleasure, his eyes fluttering close, his breath hitching and how he was biting on his lower lip was telling her that he was fighting to conceal all the sounds she needed. Well not a chance.

“What do you want love?” one way or another, she was going to get them out. No matter the cost. And if biting on his earlobe, scratching his chest, grinding and circling the hips to create different angle and pushing past his limits was the way to achieve that she was not opposed to.  

“You…. I want you. Please…. So bad. More. More, please…”

“Tell me you love me.”

“I fucking love you. I love you. I am yours. Please, please…..Y/N. Y/n love, let me touch you. ”

“Jason…..” she whispered seductively, groping his pecks  “Jason…..” she was strong and the jealousy definitely spur on her dominant side, but she was still just a woman. With needs. And with her perfect man whining and begging for her.  And her control was slowly slipping. Slightly. “Yes. Touch me.” suddenly his hands were free, clutching her sides, pressing her closer, faster, further. Going in deeper, hitting that one spot where she needed him most.

“Ah!” it was now her turn to let out a moan. “Jason….”

“Y/N,….. Y/N…..” he chanted like a prayer, propping himself up, arms traveling to her back, trapping her  “I love you, I love you…. you….fuck,  so good.” Their sweaty bodies clung to each other almost like with glue, reaching for any part of each other they could possibly reach.

“Just good, huh?” she smirked, tangling fingers in his hair, pulling gently “just good?” her hot breath fanned over his sweaty, reddened face.

“Fucking perfect” he bit on her shoulder trying to muffle another groan and she shivered in pain and pleasure combined, tightening the grip on him, her hips moving on their own accord in the pace the legs were barely able to withstand. But she was far from giving up. She was going to catch her high.  

“Say my name again.” she commanded, breathily, being so close to the release. So fucking close. “I want to hear you say it.”

“Y/N.” his mouth travelled down her body, kissing her collarbone and sinking teeth in her the soft flesh of her breast, soothing the stinging pain with his tongue.

“Again!” she screamed throwing head back “Again!”

“Y/N. Mine. “

“Yes! Yes!” she screamed, holding him tighter “Jace, baby, god, please!” she was not going to let go before pushing him past his breaking point “Cum with me. Cum with me now! I fucking need you to cum! Inside, please, baby. Fill me!”

“Y/N!” at the end, overwhelmed by the feeling of her pussy clenching around him, his lustful brain finally helped him find enough strength to snap his hips against her, squeezing her hips tight enough to leave purple hand-shaped bruised.  “baby, my baby, my girl, my love.” He pressed his lips against her, kissing her frantically, with urgency and clashing teeth, throwing all his load inside her. So fucking deep, her entire body spasming in his embrace, nails clawing on his back, becoming one, not sure where he ended and she begun or the other way round.

“Y/N….” he panted pulling back and leaning his forehead on hers once his balls were empty and his cum was dripping from her pussy. “Baby….”

“You’re mine.” she managed to say “Mine. You hear me? Mine”

“Were you that jealous?” he raised an eyebrow

“Maybe. Maybe not. but fuck, you are just so hot whining underneath me.”

“I liked you on top.” He whispered leaning his head and pecking her lips gently, still keeping her in his embrace, their breaths slowly coming even.

“Really? Her eyes widened in surprise. “I mean of course you did. I am a fucking goddess.”

“Yes.” His flushed cheeks made this tank of a man look like a little, shy boy and damn, she loved that. She adored being the only one to make him this soft and submissive.

“We gotta do this more often than.”

@jasontoddsthickbabe - please forgive me, but I thought about tagging you.

The Night We Met

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??

A/N: I finally figured out a song to base this chapter off, I’m sorry I went so off with their conversation and didn’t really get anywhere with it, I just really want them to bond and I don’t think ahead of writing I just start and see where it takes me, I know this can be really boring but I want this to be a LONG fic and a slow burn and that can’t happen if the whole plot happens in two chapters so bare with me please!

TWS: slow burn, 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

Keep in mind that English is not my first language, I also know nothing about guns, human anatomy or fighting in the language so I'm sorry if I make a lot of mistakes

Gif credits to Titanstv on Pinterest

Story Masterlist / Main Masterlist

You felt a throbbing pain in your head and started slowly opening your eyes and becoming aware of your surroundings, you were trying to figure out how long you had slept for since according to the sky it was night now and you didn't know if it was the next day now or if you had just slept some hours, now that you think of it, you didn't actually remember falling asleep either, well thats what happens when you cry too much after not sleeping for two days i guess, you decided that you would really love a glass of water right now and started making your way to the kitchen, you hoped no one was awake or at home, after your whole emotional moment with Bruce and Alfred you realized how embarrassing it had been to cry your heart out in front of someone who did not even know you and how much of a big deal you had made things that seriously were not that deep, then you cried more of embarrassment, and then you realized how much of a baby you were being, and realized you were really sleep deprived and really needed some sleep.

You arrived to the kitchen and just as luck would have it, there was no other than Jason Todd, the guy who had to awkwardly witness a girl he didn't know sob her eyes out but while thinking about it you realized that making it a bigger deal than it was would only make it actually embarrassing and would probably ruin any chance of friendship with that guy so you decided that you would let it go and it had never happened.

Jason didn't acknowledge you at all, he was too concentrated on eating what he had cooked for himself earlier and honestly he didn't seem like a very social guy so you just let him be.

You reached for a glass but then decided that maybe you should grab a thermos so you could bring it to your room and not have to make your way over to the kitchen every time you were thirsty, the noise made Jason acknowledge you but he just gave you a nod while he looked at you and you just returned it, you went to fill the water and you could still feel Jason staring at you, the environment was really awkward and Jason looked like he wanted to say something, or maybe he just wanted you to leave, well, this was your chance to talk to him, if he didn't want to talk to you back then you would just let him be, no harm in trying to make friends in your own home.

"Aren't you supposed to be out there with Bruce?" you asked him

He shook his head and pointed to his ribcage "got stabbed, Bruce wouldn't allow me to go back out there"

"Huh, how'd you get stabbed?" you asked not being bothered by it, you were used to these kind of things

"Harley" he said nonchalantly

"Oh" you said and nodded at him

"Mhm"

"I thought she hadn't been active in a while?" I said, Dick had told me before he left Bruce that Harley hadn't made an appearance in almost a year and it looked like she might want redemption.

"Yeah but Joker was put back in Arkham some months ago, we thought they had broken up but turns out it was just an act and she was just plotting something to try and get him out or get revenge or something like that, and well i may be skilled but Harley is Harley" he said taking bites of his food.

"Yeah I get you, even I am scared of going against Harley"

"You are? haven't you beaten her like a lot of times?"

"Yeah but miss girl is not just crazy and skilled but she's also in LOVE like not cutesy love, but maniac love that's a dangerous combination" you said in an exaggerated way to get your point across.

"I wouldn't call that love" he said while shaking his head before taking another bite of his food which you had no idea what it was.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Obsession I guess, she's like obsessed with him, she would throw herself against chemicals that will probably kill her if he asked for it... oh wait she already did"

"Yeah, poor girl would give her life for someone who just manipulates her and uses her”

"I mean yeah, but I wouldn't call her poor she's still a psycho" he shrugged.

"Maybe, but she's in love, even if you wouldn't call it that i think i would, its not a healthy love but she just loves him in a really obsessive unhealthy way, also if you see it in a way, we are psychos as well" i say before taking a sip of my water.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he sipped what must be coffee from a mug and looked at me curiously.

"Well, what kind of people just beats up other people every night?"

"Well yeah, but we only beat criminals and people who deserve it, they actually kill" he said trying to defend his point.

"I mean, yeah they may kill and we don't, but what's worse? dying or being paralyzed and basically tortured for life?"

"What do you mean?" he frowned and tilted his head a bit, he was intrigued in the conversation now.

"Well do you honestly think everyone will just be fine after being thrown around and beaten up until the point where you know if you give one more punch they'll die? I mean even professional fighters get brain paralysis or quadriplegic or like vegetative state from a bad blow and they have like precautions in those fights, now imagine in a fight where there's no precautions and the only stop sign is either them going unconscious or them not being able to move or them being a step away from death keep in mind that the criminals that you beat sometimes aren't trained or don't even know how to fight like regular thieves and shit, im obviously not talking about criminals like Ivy or Harley and stuff and a lot of the vigilantes have actually killed at least one person, maybe not intentionally but yeah" I explained to him.

"Huh, I guess if you think about it like that you're right" he nodded and took one last bite out of his plate

"Of course I am, I"m always right" I smiled at him

"Sure you are" he rolled his eyes in a playful way and stood up to wash his dirty dishes.

"I am!" I say pretending to be offended

"Uh huh, whatever you say" he smiled at me, "well, uhm its pretty late and I guess I should try to get some sleep, so see you tomorrow, I guess" he said before starting to head out of the kitchen.

"Sure, goodnight" I said to him.

"Night" He replied before finally leaving the kitchen.

taglist:

@fairyeoll @singitoutgirl26 @mad-die45 @just-lost-inbetween-worlds @pariahsparadise

forced my bf to watch cm w me, forgot i was watching it w my bf and started screaming and shaking him when mgg came out… LMAOOO

Petrichor [12]

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

Words: 12,719

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, blood, violence, canon violence, manipulation, gunshot wounds, mentions of drug use, drug use, reader is fed the fuck up, description of withdrawal (kind of??)

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 really do just love angst so much lmao 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 😭

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

The next day Jason is with Crane. Jason is still reeling from last night. Dick knows pretty much everything now and that wasn’t a part of the plan. Jason thinks it’s only a matter of time before Dick shows back up and destroys the entire thing. It’s only a matter of time before Dick ruins everything all over again. And he thinks about you and how mad and worried you were. It’s all growing a bit too heavy for him, even with the drug. But, he pushes Crane anyway.

The sooner they get this plan in action, the better. The sooner Jason can take care of Dick, the better. But, Crane isn’t having any of it. Crane wants to go through with his plan but he’s also not telling Jason a single thing about it. It’s like Jason is just a piece in his game, a pawn. Doing all of the bidding and only knowing what’s going on when he actually needs to in order to do Crane's bidding. But, Jason shakes that thought off because Crane cares about him. Crane wouldn’t be just using him. Right?

“I met that girl of yours.” Crane states, getting tired of Jason’s pestering about going after Dick.

“I heard.” Jason quips, his voice snippy and harsh.

“She is a handful, isn’t she?”

Jason knows what he’s doing and he won’t. He can be as high as Crane wants him to be but he still has a line. And that line is you. It is always you. Anyone but you.

“I can handle her.” Jason states.

“Can you? You can fight better than her. You've had the training. But, like Dick Grayson, she walked away from last night.” Crane lets out a wistful sigh. “And she threatened to kill me.” Crane looks to be hurt as the words leave his lips. Jason knows better than to think someone threatening Crane's life would hurt his feelings. “Doesn’t it bother you that her and Bruce didn’t kill the Joker for you?” Crane asks and Jason’s eyes land on the floor. “I mean,” Crane lets out another sigh. “That maniac killed you and they couldn’t be bothered to kill him for you. Sam is at least a killer now but not for you. I, though, I brought you back.” Crane gives Jason a sinister smile as he places a hand on his shoulder.

Jason hates it because Crane makes a point. Bruce couldn’t even bend his morals for him. Bruce said he was his son and he took him in, he let him be Robin. Bruce was supposed to protect him and everyone else. But, then he couldn’t even kill the Joker. He’s not asking him to kill Two-face or The Riddler or even Crane, but he should have killed the Joker for him. That’s the part that hurts. And you turn around and starts taking out lowlives but you didn’t even hit the Joker first. Not even for him and you've been wanting his blood on your hands since your mom died. But, somehow, that wasn’t enough for even you. Jason, though, does know someone killed him. And he knows what you said about what him dying did to you. He thinks that person just beat you to it. Bruce though, even Dick. Dick could have killed him, too and he didn’t. No one that claims to care about him at all killed the Joker for him and none of you brought him back. Jonathan Crane brought him back from the dead. Not the people who care bout him.

“This isn’t about her. It’s about Dick.” Jason shakes his head because you're still the line. Despite it all, you're the line he won’t cross.

Jason knows, under the haze of the drug, you would have brought him back from the dead if you knew how. And if it were something you knew he'd want. You would have fought and chewed into fate and the Reaper with nothing but your bare hands just to bring him back. You would have killed the Joker if someone didn't beat you to it. After everything going on, you're still the one person who hasn't given up on him.

You're the line.

“See, that’s your problem. It’s not just about Dick Grayson. It’s about all of Gotham and your girlfriend is a part of that.”

“Okay.” Jason states, unsure where else he could possibly be going with this.

“She’s going to be a problem, just like that older brother of yours.” Crane warns as he turns back around as he walks into the little office building. “She’ll come after me eventually and then I bet she’ll come after you, with Dick Grayson at her side.”

“She’s not a problem.” Jason defends.

You could have killed him last night. If the first knife would have missed, you would have had a second one already in the air on its way to his jugular. If you want someone dead with a knife, you're more than capable but instead, you didn’t. You've had opportunities to kill him and fight him at full force but you don’t. You aren’t the problem, no matter what Crane says.

“Isn’t she? She still wants you to join their side and turn me in, the person who has helped you the most. Haven’t you thought about her using you? Her fear drove her to you and now she’s lost. She doesn’t know who is without you because she got to try to fix you and distract herself from it. You got her to live in that fancy mansion.” Crane says and Jason, right about now, is pretty glad he left out more about you.

Crane pushes sometimes for more information but Jason deflects and pulls information about anyone else he can. Jason won’t let Crane target you. That’s not how this partnership is going to work. It doesn’t matter. Jason Todd doesn’t make very many promises, but he made a promise to you and he’s not breaking it. You don’t break your promises to him.

“She’s not using me. I can get her to join our side.” Jason states, his voice growing more annoyed.

“Then why haven’t you?”

“That wasn’t part of the plan.” Jason lies.

“If I told you to give her the drug and help us, would you?” Crane asks, his brows slightly furrowing with the question because he’s already pretty sure he knows the answer.

Crane doesn’t know you already took the drug. Crane also doesn’t know the real reason Jason burned down his lab. Jason told Crane he was just covering his tracks after Hank. He knew Dick would be digging deeper and he might find it. That isn’t actually a complete lie, that’s probably what would have happened if Dick didn’t already find it. But, the real reason was that he didn’t want you going back and making more of it and taking it. He feels the comedown and sure, while he’s high or when he’s desperate not to feel that way again, it feels worth it. In those moments it always feels worth it but you were always better with dealing with your shit than he was. He doesn’t want you involved with Crane and he doesn’t want you addicted to the drug. You deserve better.

He’d never give you the drug. He’d never ask you to work alongside Crane.

“Yeah, she would do it. She’s just as fucked up as I was.” Jason lies through his teeth, shifting his weight to his right foot.

Crane nods his head but he met you. You're not scared, not in the way Jason was. He can tell you have her own issues but you're not like Jason when Jason showed up at Arkham. “Maybe she’s not who you thought she was.” Crane sighs. “You should really be focused on taking care of her with Dick, if that’s your goal that is.”

“No.” Jason states firmly. “Not happening.” Jason scoffs. “She’s not a fucking problem. She fights with Dick all the damn time and she fought him last night with me. Nothing to worry about.” Jason shakes his head, still a little confused what that was even about.

“Oh, I’m not worried.” Crane states. “You are. If you don’t take care of her, you’ll always be stuck here. You’ll never be able to get to your full potential because you’re too worried about what she’ll do. Maybe what she’ll think of you. Though, I have to say, she is not pleased with you over that Hawk fellow.”

“And she still fought Dick for me.” Jason urges. “Clearly, she doesn’t have that big of a problem with it.”

“I’m just giving you my advice. You want to be fearless but you’re still scared of what she’ll do and what she thinks of you.” Crane tsks.

“I’m not taking care of her. I want to go after Dick. Look, we know the drug works. I’m exhibit one.” Jason states, trying to deflect from you. It can’t be you.

“You’ll see, my boy.” Crane states.

The night before rings through your head like a migraine you can't quit. You and Dick got back pretty later, or rather early in the morning. Dick was instant he could take care of the gunshot wound on his own. He'd done it before, apparently. So, that left you to your room alone and sleeping didn't come too easy.

You could have had both of them but Dick just wouldn't listen and Jason doesn't listen and you're too damn loyal to him. If it were anyone else, you could have thrown a knife to injure them and you would have had him and then could have gotten Crane. But, it's Jason and you don't want to hurt him even if hurting him could bring him back and end up being for his own good. You just won't take the risk. And it sucks. And then you almost got shot because Jason and Dick can't work out their problems like normal people with an actual conversation. You're stuck in the middle of the two of them and you don't even know how the hell that happened.

And then there's the way Jason looked at you when you asked him to come home.

The drug must have been wearing off because he looked scared and for the life of you, you don't know why he would be so scared to come home. Yes, he killed Hank and that's bad but everyone attacked Gar while possessed and moved on from that. Gar killed people when he was being controlled. Jason is killing people while he's manipulated and drugged. None of them have attempted to do anything about any of the people you've killed. Dick just let Bruce walk right out after killing the Joker. Jason shouldn't be scared to come home and you feel horrible he clearly does. Getting him back just got a lot more difficult it seems and you're starting to second guess where you should stand in all of it.

You walk into the Batcave where you find Gar and Kory, looking to be researching something on the Batcomputer. You're best guess is they're trying to track down Jason. That's the only thing anyone is doing these days anyway.

"There you are!" Gar yells with excitement and relief as he rushes to you.

Gar's been worried. You and Dick went off without an explanation and didn't come back last night. Neither of you could even be bothered to answer a phone or keep the phones on for that matter. Kory hadn't heard anything and neither did Connor. He's relieved to see you're okay, even if you're looking a little out of it.

"Oh, yeah, hey." You let out a sigh as Gar brings you in for a hug.

"Where were you last night?" Kory questions. "And where is Dick?"

"And what happened?" Gar asks as he pulls away.

You furrow your brows, looking between them as your heart misses a beat. "W-what do you mean?"

Have they really not seen Dick? You might not have slept long or well but Dick is still, somehow, usually always awake. At least here like maybe the manor is haunting him in its own way. But, Kory and Gar are watching you expectantly and you worry maybe something went wrong with the whole gunshot thing.

"I don't think it's some coincidence you and Dick disappeared yesterday and stopped answering your phones." Kory crosses her arms.

Your jaw opens and closes a few times. "Uh..I mean...yeah..." You offer a yikes expression, squinting your eye slightly.

"Explain, now." Kory states sternly.

"Well, uh, you see...you haven't seen Dick or...heard from him?" You ask slowly.

"No." Kory grows more annoyed by the second.

"Not since he dropped Dawn off." Gar offers, hoping you get to the point soon.

You suck in a breath as you tug your sleeves over your hands. "Uh, yeah...so Dick got, uh shot. But, he was fine."

"So, you just went to bed?!" Gar asks.

"And you didn't think to come get me? Or any of us?" Kory demands.

"He said he had it and he's been shot before. I wasn't gonna argue with him."

"Since when? You argue with him all the time." Gar shakes his head in disbelief. Of all times you aren't going to argue with Dick, it's when he's shot. He could be bleeding out somewhere.

"Yes, I was not in the mood last night." You defend your stance as regret starts to chew at your stomach.

Kory lets out a groan. "And where did you last see him?"

"In the living room? Before I went to bed." You state but before you start giving up more answers, the one and only finally makes his way into the Batcave. "Oh, thank fuck." You let out a breath of relief.

"What happened!?" Kory asks quickly, immediately rushing over to Dick who's a little unsteady on his feet.

You and Gar watch the two of them and you can't help the grin that comes to your lips. Rachel made jokes about the two of them and said she thought it was weird but they'd be cute together. You get it now. Kory ran to him in the same you would have if it were Jason. Dick is clearly the idiot between the two of them.

You eye Gar. "Bet you ten bucks it'll be Kory to close the deal when she gets tired of waiting for him to get his shit together."

"I'm not gonna bet on that." Gar whispers with a soft grimace.

"Because you'll lose?" You raise, offering him a smirk.

"Yes." Gar chuckles. "I don't know if Dick is capable of having that conversation unprovoked."

You nod, rolling your eyes. "Batboys." You let out a sigh. "Okay, I give Kory a month."

"Four, tops." Gar sticks out his hand and you shake it with a soft laugh before you and Gar follow Kory and Dick to the medbay.

Dick takes off his shirt and reveals a gunshot wound on the upper left side of his chest. You furrow your brows. It looks nasty and his entire chest is covered in blood, most of it dry but some of it still looks fresh. Kory shakes her head, grabbing the supplies to stitch up the wound. Gar and you watch for a few minutes, mostly grimacing at the sight of it.

"Dude, that looks horrible." Gar scrunches his nose.

"Five inches over and we'd be burying another body." Kory says as she starts addressing the wound.

"Dude, seriously?" You huff. "You said you'd take care of that." You roll your eyes. You wonder how he could be so dumb. And reckless. It's not like it's a cut or a scrape. It's a literal gunshot wound close to his heart.

Kory stops what she's doing to look at you, Gar nearly snapping his head at you. Dick just glares at you, looking more annoyed than usual.

"What?" You ask, looking between all of them with wide eyes. "What'd I do now?"

"Let him go to bed with a gunshot wound and not tell anyone." Gar mutters under his breath, making you snap your entire attention on him. That's uncharacteristic.

"I'm not gonna force someone to let me help clean up their wounds." You mutter right back, earning a glare of disbelief from Gar. "Okay, unless it's Jaon or you." You snip back. "Sorry." Your eyes widen, looking between the three of them.

Gar keeps his stare on you. You're supposed to be friends and you're not looping him to anything anymore. You and Dick go off to fuck knows where and Dick almost gets killed. They're trying to find Jason since he went dark and you two can't be bothered to work as a team with the team. It's ridiculous. You're supposed to be a family.

"Explain." Kory warms, looking between you and Dick.

"It's nothing." Dick states, watching Kory stitch the wound.

"Nothing?!" Kory yells. "You two went off last night without a word! We deserve an explanation."

Dick pauses and you're not about to be on Kory's bad side. If Dick wants to piss Kory off, that's all on him. You do not want to do that. Kory is usually very nice but you have a feeling being on her bad side could get ugly. Plus, it's Kory.

"Jason's working with Jonathan Crane so we kidnapped him and took him to the cabin to lure Jason there. Then Jason and Dick started fighting and I helped. And then a helicopter came and Dick got shot." You explain simply.

The room falls silent for a few seconds as everyone looks between you and Dick. Kory wants to know why everyone who manages to get involved with Bruce Wayne ends up being some of the most reckless people she's ever encountered. Gar is piecing together everything you've told him and now he's even more frustrated. You and Dick went after Scarecrow and decided you could take him on and Jason on your own without any issues. You both didn't even have a backup plan. And Gar is realizing you not only took Jason's drug, but if it's Scarecrow, it was probably something he designed. You took a drug Scarecrow designed and knew that. Then neglected to tell everyone that piece of information.

You both could have died last night and everyone is supposed to just be normal about that. After everything.

"Wow, thanks." Dick quips.

"I'm not gonna disobey Kory. That's all you." You shake your head as you cross your arms over your chest but you can feel Gar's eyes still boring into you.

"And whose side were you even on last night, by the way?" Dick questions.

"You two morons almost fucking shot me!" You yell. "I was on your side. Hello? Do you not remember that and then you got the first swing on him. I was with you guys until you two almost shot me."

"That was Jason." Dick argues. "He pulled the trigger, not me."

"Because you grabbed his arm! It was aimed at you originally, not me." You let out a scoff.

"Enough." Kory warns, growing tired of the back and forth. The specifics of the fight last night don't matter right now when she's trying to fix a bullet wound that could have been fatal. She is so sick of losing people. "Barbara's responsible for this?" Kory asks.

"One of her snipers is, yeah." Dick answers.

"On her orders, I'm sure." Kory states. "Maybe I should go and have a word with her."

"I think there's been enough bloodshed for today." Gar adds in. "That was way too close, man." Gar's voice is soft but drenched in worry.

"I almost had him." Dick defends.

"No, I had him." You protest. "I had a knife ready to go. He never would have done it. I could have gotten him just fine but then you had to take the damn gun and I almost got shot." You pause for a second and if Dick would have just trusted you, maybe you really could have gotten him back. "We almost had him."

"Neither of you are listening!" Kory yells, looking between the two of you. "You scared us. Going out on your own, getting shot. It's not okay."

"I didn't want to put you guys at risk." Dick says. "She was here when I got the call. She's the only one that ever got through to Jason before. That's the only reason she went." Dick states calmly while Gar looks back at you as if waiting for you to explain why you didn't at least tell him.

"I'm not dragging you into it." You look to Gar as you shrug your shoulders.

"Oh, bullshit, guys." Gar spits and he's sick of this.

"Excuse me?" Dick questions.

"Dude, Hank blew up!" Gar yells. "Dawn left us forever, and Jason went dark. You're killing people!" Gar looks at you. "This family is dying and you two go out alone and Dick gets shot?" Gar yells before he starts growling lowly, his entire face turning green while his teeth turn into fangs. "Do you even hear the words coming out of your mouths!?"

"Gar?" You question slowly as your eyes grow wide. You've never seen him this upset before.

"Gar!" Kory yells, trying to snap him out of it.

"Hey." You stand in front of him, putting your hands on his cheeks. "Hello?"

His eyes land on yours, refocusing his attention and the fire in his bones starts to calm. The green fades from his face as his fangs start to retract. He's so upset and hurt and terrified for the lives of the people he cares about most, he didn't even realize he was starting to transform and Gar doesn't lose control.

"What?" Gar asks, his eyes scanning your face.

"Take ten." Kory states and she also feels like they're starting to lose everyone.

"Come on." You offer your hand to him as you turn around to walk away. Gar joins his hand with yours. "Don't do anything fucking insane without looping me in." You look over your shoulder at Dick, sending him a glare before you turn back around. "You were turning green." You whisper to Gar as you walk hand-in-hand across the Batcave.

"Because you guys could have died last night! I'm sick of losing this family!" His voice is panicked this time.

Gar might wear his emotions on his sleeve, but he is also very good at controlling his emotions. He never just loses control but he is today and it has you feeling even more guilty than you already were. Dick has Kory and Babs. You have Gar and Molly. Conner didn't really know Hank and he doesn't really know Jason. Gar, though, he knew Hank and was friends with Hank. Jason is his best friend and yet everyone has someone besides him. Everything has been a mess and Gar is the one left trying to fix everyone and help everyone but who helps him?

"Come on." You tug him along with you until you reach the living room. You let go of his hand and take a seat on the couch. "Yell at me for it. Go for it. You're scared and mad at us, fine. I get it. So, yell about it. I'm not gonna tell you to take ten. Turn green, turn into a tiger, go for it." You say with ease while Gar just stands in front of you, growing confused.

"What...? But I...I don't know..."

"Look, if you need to yell, do it. I deserve it and Dick does, too. You let me bitch to you for months. So, yell about how you're scared. I'm not gonna be hurt or mad. If it'll make you feel even a little bit better, do it. You take care of all of us, all the time. Take care of you." You offer and it's true. If he needs to yell about it, he should. You're not worried about him turning into a tiger. Gar deserves to let everything off of his chest. He always lets everyone else vent to him.

Gar's eyes narrow slightly. "This feels like a trick."

"It's not. I'd yell at Jason sometimes. He just kind of let me and then he'd yell at me. It was never that we were really yelling at each other, but just yelling. Because we were scared or mad. It usually helped. So, go for it." You shrug softly. "I do deserve it though so ya know."

Gar lets out a breath and decides he'll take the opportunity. He is just scared for all of you. Losing Donna was really hard. And losing Jason was worse. He was close with Json and that sucks. And now he's back and he's dark, working with a maniac. Hank is gone, there's no getting him back. Gar just can't lose more people and he's pissed that you and Dick don't seem to care how any of them feel about it. You're supposed to look out for each other to make sure you don't get blown up or beaten to death but Dick and you just go off on your own without a word.

"I'm just mad at you guys and I'm scared you're gonna go out there and get yourselves killed." Gar groans. "We had no idea where you guys went. You guys left and didn't loop us in. We're supposed to be a team and I know you're between teams but we're at least supposed to be friends! Jason is my friend, too! I want to be on his side. But you guys aren't telling us anything! I don't want to lose any more people."

You're tired of everything and you're tired of keeping secrets especially when Gar is looking at you desperate for answers. He says you're between teams right now but what if you don't want to be anymore? Jason is going to do whatever Crane is putting him up to and Dick is going to off and do his own thing anyway. Nothing you're doing has been working anyway. Maybe you're tired of being the one in the middle.

"The call about Crane came in and we left. I was with Dick and I don't think he would have looped me in if I wasn't already there. You're my friend. You're right. And that's why I didn't tell you." You state. "It's just...I wanted to protect you, I guess. I, uh, I've been dodging Molly's calls and texts, too because of it. I'm with you, I'm sick of losing people. So, I didn't tell you."

"Okay and I get that but this is what we do." Gar urges. "We help each other and we help other people even when it's dangerous. It's dangerous but you and Dick still go out there alone. At least if we're all working as a team, we have a better shot of making it home."

You chew the inside of your cheek and you think your heart might stop beating soon. "I fought him, ya know? And I know what that was like because even though I was high, I'm sober now and I remember every detail. And it fucking sucks that happened. I didn't want that to happen to you. I don't want him to have a bigger reason to target you." You shake your head and you shrug slowly and weakly. "He's not your fight, Gar."

"Yeah, he is." Gar urges. "Why wouldn't he be? He's my best friend."

"Because I owe it to him." You nearly yell. "I owe it to him to fucking save him because he saved me more than once and I never fucking told him. I missed it. I will never forgive myself for it. I have to save him this time."

"You don't have to do it alone." Gar's voice nearly breaks and he desperately wishes that's something you would understand. You never have to do this stuff alone. That's part of being a team and a family. "He's our friend. He's our family. We weren't here and that sucks! But he's not just yours to save. What if you can't do it alone?" Gar asks. "You're up against a freaky drug, Jason who I don't think you could really fight if you had to, and Scarecrow!"

"I know." You nod your head. "I don't know, okay? I know I can't do it alone. I'm sorry. I really am." You suck in a breath. And you're realizing you do a lot of things alone. It's as if it's easier to do them alone and only disappoint yourself, risk your own life than drag other people in the middle of it. "Really, I'm sorry. I was...scared if I tell you then you have to tell Dick and what if that got Jason killed, ya know? I don't know. I'm sorry though."

"You can tell me." Gar says. "I know you're worried about him but you can tell me and I won't tell Dick." Gar stresses. "Not if there's a risk it'll get Jason killed again."

"I know." You nod. "I'll try harder. I'm really sorry, Gar." You let out a breath. "I'm, uh, I'm gonna stay out of it today and take a breather. Might head to Excellent Gotham later, just so you know." You offer a soft smile.

"It's okay." Gar nods his head and offers a soft smile back. "You're going to be able to do that?"

"Yeah, I think better when I take a step back and I need to find a way to not be in the middle." You let out a soft chuckle. "While not doing it alone. But, if something happens..."

"I'll let you know." Gar's eyes widen. "Thank you." Gar clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "That did help a little actually."

"Told you." You laugh softly as you get to your feet. "Want some food now? Yelling really works up an appetite."

"Yeah okay." Gar chuckles as you get up. "Oh! I can tell you about Blackfire."

"Blackfire?" You quirk a brow.

"Kory's sister. She was kind of tapping into Kory's head and she attacked me yesterday so we went to find Blackfire. Some scientist was holding her captive." Gar states excitedly.

"Um..." You stutter. "Well, we already have so much in common." You laugh softly. "But yeah, no, please explain literally all of that." You say eagerly as the two of you make your way to the kitchen.

Jason and Crane are standing in the washing area of an operating room, watching as the surgeon and the nurses prep a kid for something. Jason isn't sure why Crane made him come here. He said he wanted to show Jason something. It's important he understands what's going on and Jason's part in all of this. If Jason were being honest, he thinks Crane is full of shit this time and he just wants to get out of here. This feels wrong.

Then it gets worse.

A woman comes in holding a sword and starts slicing up the surgeon and nurses. Jason's eyes grow wide as his breathing stops. Blood sprays over the walls and window right in front of Jason. A nurse backs against the window with her hands up and begs for her life only for the woman to slice her, too. This isn't right. Why would Crane do this? They're doctors. They're helping some kid live and Crane has this woman come in....and kill them. She takes something with her before looking at the window and offering Crane a nod. Jason questions if all of that bloodshed was for that one thing. She didn't have to kill them. But, she did.

"You are expendable. If you're not happy here, you are replaceable. Remember what I said." Crane says as he faces Jason and that's when Jason realizes this whole thing might be to help Crane, but the show was a threat.

Crane is withholding the drug from him today. Jason finished the inhaler and then Crane refused to give him more until they came here. He's withholding it on purpose, let Jason's fear kick in just enough to keep him in line and make him desperate. And it's working.

He's scared again.

He's scared he'll end up like the surgeons and nurses. He's scared Crane is the one who's going to turn on him. Red Hood is supposed to be the face of the whole plan. That was the point of creating that alter ego. Crane wants Jason to get rid of you and just do whatever he says, when he says it. He wants him to divert from the original plan while telling him nothing about what's actually going on. He can't do that. That is his line.

Crane can try all he wants but no amount of drugs or manipulation will get him to cross that line. He might believe Crane sometimes about you, maybe he has a point sometimes. But, he won't kill you. You could have killed him at any point but you don't. You could have pushed him off a roof but you didn't. When Jason gets desperate he thinks of that because you're the one that stood on that ledge with him despite your fear of heights. You're the one that talked him down that day no one else and he owes you something for that alone. He won't go after you. He doesn't fucking care what Crane has to say about it, he won't do it.

The more he thinks about it, the more mad he gets. Crane thinks he's expendable, just like Bruce. But he's not. Why does everyone think he's so fucking expendable and replaceable? Why is nothing he does enough? He turned on all of his friends for Crane. He killed Hank for Crane. That's not enough to prove he's not replaceable and expensable? It's infuriating. He'll prove Crane wrong. If Crane wants to get to you, he'll have to go through him first. If Crane wants to wait to distribute the drug, that's a Crane problem, not a Jsaon problem. And he knows exactly what he can do to prove Crane he's not expendable and he can be trusted.

Later that night, you find your way to Excellent Gotham. The other Titans have been busy trying to locate Crane and Jason. You kept yourself busy with a scrapbook page while they did their own thing. It's not really all that nice distancing yourself alone. You figure Excellent Gotham at least provides dinner and you can talk to Tim, someone who doesn't know everything that's going on and doesn't come with the feeling of guilt. If Tim wants to talk about who the Titans are and Batman and Robin, that's fine, too because it's what you always did. Before everything. It'll feel normal anyway. At least Excellent Gotham is a good distraction and lets you take the breather you need. If you're going to be any help, you need the step back. You're too close to it all.

So, you stand at the counter with Tim on the other side as a large smile consumes your face, a take-out counter resting open in front of you.

"Okay, okay, why Bruce Wayne? Like, okay if Dick were Robin, how does that make Bruce Batman?" You question as Tim leans against the counter.

There's a genuine smile splitting your face as you point at him with your fork before going in for another bite. You've been here a few hours, checking in with Gar every so often, a way to try and keep your word to him. And this is helping. You might be in a heated discussion about who everyone is but it feels normal. It doesn't feel heavy anymore. It's just a normal conversation with a friend and it doesn't feel fucking sad. It just feels warm.

You don't remember the last time you felt warm.

"He's rich." Tim scoffs, a grin plastered across his face. "And why else would he let Dick go out there?"

"Unless he doesn't know. Bruce is a busy man. Dick being Robin doesn't mean Bruce is Batman and that's if Dick is Robin." You argue with a laugh. "And that means you'd also be wrong about Jason."

"No, no, I know I'm right about Dick and Jason." Tim pauses, the smiling falling. "Is...is that okay to talk about? Jason?"

"Yeah." You nod with a soft smile. "I, uh, I like talking about him."

"Okay well," Tim picks right back with enthusiasm. You find it amusing how into this he is. Especially since he's right. "He has to be Robin. He has the same fighting style. He walks the same way, how do you explain that?" Tim raises. "And Robin 1.0 and Robin 2.0 share the same height difference as Jason and Dick." Tim states. "If they're the Robins, Bruce has to be Batman."

"Unless!" You yell with a laugh, flinging your fork around. "Dick recruited Jason because they're brothers! Like I said, Bruce is busy. What if Batman is just some guy? Like Kick-Ass. Doesn't have to be some rich guy and maybe he's recruiting kids." You argue and truly, you're only defending Bruce because you think it's funny. And Dick would kill you if you outed fucking Batman.

"Batman can be Batman because he's rich." Tim laughs. "Uh, where has Bruce Wayne been? Where has Batman been? They disappeared the same time!" Tim laughs.

"Bruce is on business! Maybe there's a Justice League thing!" Your laugh reverberates through the restaurant. This feels like home. "How the fuck would I know where Batman is?" You put your fork back in your food. "And that's still assuming Dick is Robin! He's not. Explain Dick having a stick up his ass. Robin is more free-spirited!"

"Sorry to interrupt this very important conversation." Mr. Drake states, walking back to the counter. "But Tim, where is Stephen? Get him on the damn phone and find out where he is. Or you're stuck here all night."

"Shit." Tim mutters, checking his phone to see Stephen's shift started an hour ago. "Okay, hold on." Tim says. "And we'll continue this." Tim laughs as he calls Stephen on FaceTime. "Where are you, man? Your shift started over an hour ago."

"Priorities. My girl's parents are out of town. I'll be there in a second." Stephen says through a grin.

"Seriously? I could have plans." Tim protests.

"What plans?" You snort. "You're here with me arguing about Batman."

"Whatever. Just hurry up." Tim says as he hangs up and three men walk into the restaurant.

Tim is about to start talking all over again with even more enthusiasm and proof but he gets a look at your face, eying the men as they walk further into the restaurant. Maybe you’re just paranoid but they look like they’re up to something. It’s that their walk is steady, determined, but careless. Their eyes don’t land on the menu or Tim or Mr. Drake. They’re pointed at the register. And that’s when you see the reflection of metal sticking out of the last guy’s waistband. He looks to you and then it starts.

The throbbing kicks in like a freight train. It’s an armed robbery and they plan to go out swinging. You’re quick, rushing to Tim as they pull out their guns. Gunfire surrounds and encompasses the restaurant as you tackle Tim to the floor behind one of the counters.

Tim leans against the counter, ducking his head with every echo of a gunshot. His eyes are on you as you take a breath, as if to be debating what you’re going to do. And Tim knows you knew this would happen. You were running to him before they had their guns pulled. And his thoughts are confirmed when you look back to him with fury in your eyes.

It’s been less than five seconds but it gives you enough time to gather yourself. It’s all you need. These people are not going to walk in here and murder the people you care about. They picked the wrong restaurant on the wrong night during one of the worst months of your life.

You lift your hoodie, pulling a knife from the belt around your waist before you pop up from behind the counter.

“Ya fucking missed, assholes!” You yell over at them as the knife leaves your fingers, connecting with one of the guys’ eyes, embedding itself deep into his skull as he drops to the ground.

The throbbing starts again from the side and you duck down just before a shot comes your way. You take another deep breath before grabbing another two knives and throwing one, hitting one of their jugulars. The last one still standing locks eyes with you, his gun pointed right at you. He has this…grin, one you almost swear you’ve seen before but you’ve never seen him before this. His breathing is steady and he actually looks relaxed while you have your arm ready and aimed with a knife, right at him.

His pupils are blown.

And then your heart sinks because Crane is free on the streets and these guys came in here completely fearless. This one finds the whole damn thing amusing. Maybe he’s just high on something else, or maybe you’re right and Jason and Crane have moved to disruption. Excellent Gotham wouldn’t just be a coincidence.

“Give me the money and it’ll be over.” He says so easily you nearly roll your eyes.

“Kiss my ass.” You throw the knife, hitting this one in the arm with the gun.

Then you throw another one, hitting him just below the eye. He drops to the ground in a hard thump, leaving the restaurant a glass and gun-shelled mess. The smell of gun metal seeps into the air while an eery and dense silence consumes the place.

Tim calls your name not ten seconds after the last man drops. There’s panic in his voice, a sense of dread. You rush right over to him where he’s against the food counter now, his dad leaning against the side of it. Blood seeps through Tim’s hands are he tries to hold pressure on the wound. You kneel down, seeing Mr. Drake breathing heavily. Your eyes scan over him, quickly running over the crash course Jason gave you in gunshot wounds once.

“He’s been shot!” Tim yells, desperation in his eyes as he looks to you, silently pleading for help. He knows you're Bluejay. He can only assume you've had some sort of training in this. More than he's had.

You can feel the lump in your throat grow and the spinning of your head. Blood never really bothered you and it didn't with Dick. But, it was mostly dry with him earlier and this, right now, is fresh and active. Your bones feel like they're going to vibrate through your skin and your teeth grind together, trying to push every thought out of your mind that isn't first aid. 

You have to help.

“Okay, move.” You urge as Tim pulls his hands away. Your hands are shakey as you lift Mr. Drake’s shirt, seeing the wound oozing and you think you might prefer knife wounds instead of gaping holes. “It’s gonna take the ambulance ten to fifteen to get here,” You rush out. “So, we–”

“Is that…?” Tim asks, cutting you off as his eyes are on the window. He only even looked up to see if he saw someone for help or Stephen but instead of help, he just saw one person.

Jason Todd.

You look up just in time to catch a glimpse of him before he turns around. This cannot really be happening right now. Jason Todd is supposed to be dead. It was all over Gotham City News. Bruce's newest adoptive son was killed in a freak accident. This is going to be a lot harder to explain to Tim and you want to explode. If he's here, you're right.

Why the fuck would he be here and why the fuck would he target the place you frequent?

“Okay, keep pressure.” You look to the door, seeing Stephen rush in. “Stephen, call an ambulance and grab some towels!” You yell as you get to your feet. “Stay here, hold pressure with the towels. I’ll be right back.” Your words nearly slur together as they come out as fast as your mouth will let them.

You rush outside where you see Jason, his back facing the open windows of the restaurant. You can’t believe this. Of all the things he could do, of all the damn people in Gotham he could target, he really came for you. For your friend and his family. You can’t fucking do it anymore. This is insane. If he wants to go after Dick, fine. Sibling rivalry bullshit taken to an extreme. But this? This is targeting innocent fucking people.

“Jason!” You seethe as you approach him. “What. The. Fuck!?” You scream, nearly vibrating from the anger coursing through your veins.

But then Jason faces you.

The anger washes away as your mouth opens, looking for words. There are dark circles under his eyes, a hollowed expression of the charism that used to radiate off of him. Maybe it’s the dark lighting but you swear the green in his eyes is pale, his skin is pale. He looks like a shell of who he used to be. He’s been acting like it but now…he really looks the part and you’re getting the idea that something really bad is happening.

Jason’s eyes are wide, tired, and exhausted but wide as he sees you come to a dead stop a few feet away from him. Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be here. You should be with Dick and the other Titans. He didn’t see you inside of the restaurant. Not before the gunfire or after. How did he miss you? It can’t be you. He just wanted to show Crane he was right. He wanted to prove he could do this. He chose Excellent Gotham on purpose, a way to show Crane it’s a threat at you without being a real threat. He knows you went to Tim for help. You weren’t supposed to be here.

Jason questions your name, closing the rest of the distance between the two of you.

His hands immediately come to your face for just a second and they send a chill down your spine. His fingers are like icicles and they're clammy, completely different than how they usually are and it breaks your heart. He keeps his right hand on your cheek, while the other hand goes to your waist. His eyes scan you over quickly, desperate to make sure you weren’t hurt in the gunfire. He didn’t take the drug again yet, he was saving it for after. He’s scared. Panicked. Desperate and guilty. You have blood on your hands and on your clothes. Can’t be yours. Not you. 

Please not you.

“Are you hurt?” Jason rushes but his voice is weak and fragile, echoed in pain.

You eye him and you’re stuck between wanting to punch him and wanting to kiss him in hopes to make it all better again. He’s slipping so far away from you and you’re scared how far he’s willing to fall. Crane is doing something to him. He has to because he didn’t look like this last night. He didn’t even seem like he cared this much last night. Right at this exact moment, he feels like the old Jason. And you nearly get sucked right back into his gravitational pull.

“What…” The venom is gone from your voice. “What is he doing to you?” You ask, your hand comes to to his face. Not him. Not again.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Jason’s voice breaks.

“You know I’m always here. I was hanging out with Tim. Jason…what the hell is he giving you?” You look him over and you notice him favoring his leg. You haven’t seen him much since he’s been back from the dead but this is the first time since that first day you’re noticing it. You always notice it.

“Are you hurt?” Jason asks again and he can feel his heartbeat in his throat. He wants to spit his own heart right onto the ground in hopes it’ll stop the pain in his chest.

“No. I’m fine. It’s not mine.” You urge, catching him glancing at your free hand. “Jason, what is Crane giving you?”

Jason shakes his head, dropping his other hand to your waist. He misses you. He’s been so damn high all the time, he’s been able to ignore the longing in his chest. The one who always swore was his heart searching for yours. He could ignore it with ease but Crane has been keeping the drug close to his chest and this batch isn’t very good. He can feel it more tonight. It’s wearing off quicker. He can feel the worry for you and the care and the fact he fucking misses you. And the guilt for everything that’s led you both here.

“Same shit.” Jason grits his teeth. “You took it, you know.” He hates the words leaving his lips because they sound bitter and angry but it’s not at you. He just wants you to be okay and he wants to get the fuck out of here.

“No.” You shake your head, your voice soft. “Are you sure it’s the same drug? Jason, you look…is he withholding it from you?” His skin is cold and clammy under your fingers and his hair is flatter than usual.

You’ve seen it, what withdrawal looks like. You saw it on the streets and that’s what Jason looks like. Why would Crane do that? He’s insane and he doesn’t actually give a shit about Jason but Jason has been doing all of his bidding. You figure Jason is here with the drug. That’s why he just stood here while Excellent Gotham was attacked, he probably gave it to them. Surely, that has to be part of the plan. But, if that’s the case, then why does Jason look like he’s been thrown headfirst into withdrawal? And why would Crane be doing this?

“Stay the fuck out of it. I have it. It’s the same shit. It’s fine.” Jason grits his teeth. He wants to break. He wants to lose it for the first time since that first day on the roof with you. It feels like it’s been months since and it’s only been a week. And you look at him with worry and fear and you have always had a way with getting Jason to breathe. But, he can’t afford that right now. Not you. “Please.”

"It's fine?" You spit. "You look terrible, Jason. It's not fucking fine."

"Yeah, it is." Jason removes his hand from your waist and digs in his coat pocket, pulling out a full inhaler. "Fine." He wiggles the inhaler for you to see, the liquid sloshing around in the clear canister.

After all of that, he's going to wave the drug around as if it's fucking easy. He's going to stand here and pretend like it's all fine and well when he almost got you and Tim shot? He's actually lost his damn mind now. If he's going to stick with Crane despite everything, fine. You've stuck by his side since day one all those months ago. Fine. If it's going to be like that, fine because you can't take it anymore. You love him more than anything on this planet but this is not fucking fine. He's not fine and he has got to realize that. 

"Fine!?" You shake your head, eyes bugging out of your head in disbelief. "Get off me." You shove his hand off of you as you take a step back. It's not fine. None of this is fucking fine. He's not fine. That drug isn't fine. Working with Crane isn't fine. Doing what he just did isn't fucking fine. It doesn't matter what his reason is. "You...you just got Tim's dad shot. Do you know that? What have the Drakes ever done to you?" You look at him with disgust. "You could have gotten Tim shot, my friend. You could have gotten me shot!" Your voice cracks as you yell at him, your arm flying out to the side. You might be worried about him but you're not going to let him almost kill your friends because you're worried about him.

"That wasn't the plan!" Jason screams in desperation, his words clawing at the hope for you to believe him. "You went to Tim, didn't you!? I know you suck at figuring out codes! Tim is a genius. I just wanted to scare him!" Jason defends his stance, leaving out Crane wanting Jason to target you. If you knew this was a fake threat, maybe that'd be worse.

"Bullshit! Bull-fucking-shit! You gave them the drug! That's why you're here! You did this! You knew what would happen and you did it anyway!" You bark back. "You just wanted to scare him!? Then do it your damn fucking self, Jason! You just didn't want the blood on your damn hands so I couldn't blame you! But you did this!" You point a finger at him and Jason isn't sure he's seen you so mad and...disappointed.

"You weren't supposed to be here! I didn't think they'd shoot anyone!"

That's not a lie. He didn't think. He just did it. He knew they'd go in there and rob them. Maybe they'd have to close down for a little bit. For safety. He didn't think about anything else. Thanks to the drug Jason claims is helping him and curing him.

You don't fucking get it. It doesn't matter that you weren't supposed to be here. That's a load of shit anyway. You're always here. Tim and his family are innocent, regardless on if Tim helped you or not. He doesn't know anything, not for sure. Jason's reasoning is flawed and it's cruel. It fucking hurts.

"Tim is my fucking friend! I don't care I wasn't supposed to be here! You....fuck." You let out a desperate groan, tilting your head back. At some point, enough is enough and he isn't even taking responsibility for this. You just can't do this anymore. You look back to him, eyes turning glassy. "I was fucking fine with you being a crime lord or whatever, taking out those fucks hurting people. But this?" You point at the restaurant. "These are innocent people! Hank was innocent! Dick is innocent! I can't fucking stand here and watch you kill innocent fucking people! And innocent fucking people that I care about and that care about me!" You say it all so quickly, you barely register what it would mean.

No no no no no. He fucked it all up. Like he always does. He just ruined it all. Everything is gone. Everything is going to shit. It's all messed up. He did all of this. How did he even get here? You can't walk away from him. You always swore you wouldn't. Please, not you, too.

You're all he has left.

"What's that supposed to mean, huh?" Jason asks, jerking his up quickly as he tries to give the question some bite.

You let out a heartbroken laugh that's mixed with a cry as you look to the sky and hope a blackhole will open up just to swallow you whole. You have no choice.

You have thrown him life preserver after life preserver, and all he ever had to do was hold on and you'd reel him back to safety. But, all Jason has done is chew right through them and wonder why he's still drowning. You can't keep trying to save someone who doesn't want to be saved. He was always your lifeline but you were clearly, never his.

"You win, Jason." Your voice is defeated as Jason's brows furrow. The lump in your throat grows so large you can barely get the words out. "You win. I can't do it anymore. I'm done. I can't." You shake your head as a tear falls down your cheek. The words taste like blood-covered glass, killing you with every cut and slice.

If you're always on his side, then what he's doing can't be that bad. If you're always on his side, defending him, why would he ever stop? You've tried everything else to get him home and none of it is enough. And it is killing you, knowing this is it. There is one last option because something's gotta give. Maybe if he hits rock bottom, having no one, maybe it'll turn him around. It's the only thing left to do because begging him doesn't work, loving him doesn't work, fighting him doesn't work, arguing doesn't work. Nothing else works and you hate it because you don't mean it, not even a little bit but you have no other options and you're devasted by what he is right now.

So, you say the one thing you can't take back.

A last-ditch effort, knowing he may never forgive you.

"I'm giving up on you. You get what you always wanted. I can't do it. I have tried and tried, but I can't do it anymore." You give him a tired shrug as you dodge his eyes.

If you see the heartbreak in his eyes, you'll take it back and you can't do that. If Jason always has you on his side, why would he turn things around when he hasn't yet? You could have died two nights in a row. He is actively targeting the Titans. You can't meet his eyes because he is targeting innocent people. It might be under Crane's control but, until he gets clear of him and gets clean, this has to be on Jason. Jason has to be the one to deal with the consequences and you will never forgive yourself for it.

Jason's world stops. Not you. Not another person. Why does he always do this? How did he even get here? You were never supposed to be involved. He should have included you from the start. He almost rips the inhaler from his pocket and hits it, right in front of you, anything to get rid of this pain in his chest. It's as if his heart just exploded through his cage, shattering every bone on its way out. How are you doing this?

You're all he has left.

Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears of agony and anger. "You're just like everyone else." Jason's voice cracks.

You knew it was coming but something about it makes you want to burst into tears.

"No." You shrug because he should know how badly this hurts you, too. This is the last thing you want to say to him, ever. "I'm not. I am not like everyone else. Don't ever say that shit again. You have done this. You came after my friend. My innocent friend, Jay." Your voice cracks as you try desperately to hold back your sobs. "All you have done since coming back from the dead, is hurt me." You pause, taking a ragged breath and Jason's face falls. Is that true? "And I have done everything to protect you. To be by your side. And you have done nothing but hurt me. So, no. I am not like everyone else. You just gave me no choice, Jay." You're quick to wipe a few tears away as your voice is weak and soft, lacking all fire and bite it had just seconds earlier.

He can't do it. He could try to make up for this. He could try to explain. He could just quit. That would do the job just fine. But, he doesn't. The heartbreak kicks in with anger and he just wants to be spiteful just like he always is as if fighting the person is going to change their mind. He knows it won't change yours but he does it anyway because he's hurt and the hurt has nowhere to go besides the open and cold air of this soulless city.

"You swore you never would but look at you now!" A lump grows in Jason's throat. "You said you don't break promises. Crane was right about you." Jason sneers as he closes the distance between you, looking down at you but he's not threatening or intimidating. You see the heartbreak in his eyes. You will feel guilty about this in every life you live.

Jason Todd has always deserved better.

"Okay." You shake your head slowly. "Sure, Crane doesn't know me. But you do. You know me. And you know I'd never be giving up if you left me another option. But, sure, believe Crane. Fuck it, right?" You scoff and all you want to do is cry. Or break every bone in your body because maybe that would be less painful. "I'm sick of losing my family." Your voice is quiet, barely a whisper. "All I ever wanted was you. And you died." You shrug your shoulders, keeping your eyes on him. "And all I wanted was you." You say quietly and Jason wants to shatter, his breath catching in his throat as his vision starts to go blurry. "And still, all I want is you but...I don't know what else to do."

You can see your breaths mixing together in the winter air between you. Everything led you both here and all you both want to do is take it back. The winter air chisels at your face and hands, hacking away at every hope you could have had. Jason's eyes are locked on yours, dissolving into heartbreak and you think this is what hypothermia must feel like.

But, Jason is too scared of what will happen if he does take it all back. He's still under Crane's manipulation. He's too stubborn. And you're terrified what will happen if you back down. If you back out of it, who will he target next?

"So, that's just it? I didn't mean to hurt anyone in there. It's not my fault." Jason huffs and the anger starts to evaporate as the heartbreak comes in the form of agony and devastation.

"Sure." You nod and you don't want him to feel like he's trapped with Crane. You have to give up because that's your option. But, you can offer him someone else and maybe that'll be enough. This all boils to Dick anyway. "The same way your drug isn't Crane's fault. Look, I'm done. I can't do it. Dick though, he believes in you still. So, if you want to come home, call him. Don't contact me. If you get clean, then you can. Until then, don't call me. Don't text me. Nothing. And stay the fuck away from the Drakes, Molly, and Gar." You try to hide the quiver in your voice but Jason catches it.

"Please, don't walk away." Jason says softly and you nearly collapse into the ground. His words are like knives aiming right for your heart. How does he do that?

You rest a hand on his cheek. "I can't leave it like that so, I'll always love you, Jay but...I want the old you back." You nod as your hand falls from his cheek. You turn around, going to leave him but you hear Jason take a few slow steps after you before they stop.

Jason's voice cracks as he says your name, his version becoming so blurry he can't see. "I...I'm sorry." Jason says quietly, looking to the ground as a tear falls from his eyes. "Don't...please," He looks back up to you. "Don't give up on me. I have a plan and it's all gonna work out. This was just an accident."

You swear he's never going to forgive you for this. This is the hardest thing you've ever done. Even if he understands one day, he'll never forgive you and it's the hardest pill to swallow.

"Yeah, I'm sure it was." You nod softly. "I can't save you. You don't want to be saved, not yet. You have to save yourself, now, Jay. And for what it's worth, I..." You pause watching tears come to Jason's eyes. "I love you, Jay." You nod your head as you sniffle. "And I am so fucking sorry I couldn't save you. From Deathstroke, from the Titans, from the Joker...from Bruce. And from Crane. I'm sorry I was another person that let you down and I'm really fucking sorry I'm walking away." You shake your head as you lick your lips. "But I don't think you'll get it through your head if I'm in your corner. I've tried everything to stay." You suck in a breath as a few tears fall from your eyes. "I tried to stay for once because being with you was worth it to me. But I don't think it's helping you so...get clean and we can talk. The second you get clean, I'll be here." You nod once as the ambulance finally starts to arrive. "Those are for us. You should leave." You turn back around and head back inside of the building, leaving Jason in the cold.

How could he fuck up this bad? He just wanted to show Crane he was right. He just wanted to prove himself and instead, he's the one standing out here all alone. Guilt and shame gnawing at the last good parts of him. And he just can't do it anymore. The pain and the fear and guilt and everything about it. It's too much and too heavy and maybe he's a little spiteful. So, he puts the inhaler to his lips and takes a hit.

They said it was a skinny batch but he didn't realize it would feel like this. It's numbing a lot of everything but not enough and it all still feels too heavy. When things get heavy, he always went to you but he just fucked that up. It's his fault it's heavy. This is all his fault and you're supposed to be on his side but you're not. He's all alone again and all he has is Crane. It's not supposed to be like this. How the fuck did he even get here?

All he wanted was to be somebody to someone. To be enough.

Back in the restaurant, the paramedics are getting Mr. Drake into the ambulance, rushing him off to Gotham General. Tim watches with sad and hollowed eyes, his hands are covered in blood and his shirt is soaked. You squeeze your eyes shut, looking away before you shake it off. You can't lose it over Tim's dad. That's not fair.

"Do...do you need a ride?" You clear your throat as the ambulance drives away. "I have my bike. I can take you." You offer with a steady and firm nod.

"Uh...yeah," Tim looks at his hands, something lost in his voice. "That...that would be great. Thanks."

"Of course." You nod, reaching down for this hand. Your hands have been covered in blood enough times to almost seem normal. "Come on."

The two of you head outside to your bike and you wonder how you're supposed to explain this. Dick talked to you months ago, when you first came to the tower. It was all about vigilante life and what it entailed. It would be making hard decisions but knowing those hard decisions would be for the greater good. It's not killing people because enough people hurt and kill innocent people enough. Vigilantes, heroes, don't do that. It was about keeping the identities of everyone a secret to protect yourself and them. You've never had much of an issue keeping secrets.

You hold your own close to your chest, lock them away where even you forget they exist sometimes. But, those secrets aren't these. Those secrets only ever hurt you, only ever made you feel alone. These secrets that you're forced to keep hurt everyone you care about. They hurt Molly because you couldn't tell her about Bluejay or Robin or Jason or Red Hood. You and Jason would bail on her and you'd both would show up riddled with bruises and aches and pains. It hurt her because it worried her. It hurt her because Jason died and she never got to know him as Robin, the part of him that meant the world to him. She only got to know a portion of him.

But telling Molly meant telling her about Dick and Bruce and the other Titans. It wasn't your secret to tell because it would out all of them. And she still doesn't know he's alive because telling her means leaking something Jason wanted to keep a secret and that's going to hurt her even more.

This hurts Tim because his dad was just shot and he just saw Jason Todd who's supposed to be dead. Now, he's going to think his friend is lying to him about your boyfriend being dead. Lying about an alter ego is one thing, lying about someone dying is cruel. Even if you weren't close.

And it hurts Gar because Gar ends up in the crossfire of everything. He's the one up worrying when you and Dick don't come home. He's the one scared for what Jason is going to do because you couldn't tell him about the drug in order to protect Jason and keep his secrets for him. And then there's Jason.

You can't tell Jason what's going on with the Titans because of Crane. You can't tell him everything you want to desperately scream from the rooftops. That you're sorry and you don't mean it and it hurts you, too. You can't tell him you're scared Crane is going to snap and kill him. It'll drive the wedge further between you. All of these secrets are piling on top of each other, slowly building to the tallest building in Gotham and it's only a matter of time before the whole thing collapses. All it does is hurt everyone you care about. That doesn't seem very heroic.

"Here, take my helmet." You offer the helmet to him once you reach your bike.

"Uh, no it's okay." Tim shakes his head. You're driving.

"Put the helmet on." You say sternly as you mount your bike, sending a glare to Tim.

Something about the look you give him makes Tim grab the helmet. "Right, okay." Tim nods and puts the helmet on before he gets on the back.

"Hold on." You state before Tim holds onto your waist.

You drive to Gotham General, pulling up to one of the entrances without blocking the ambulance entrance. Tim gets off and takes off the helmet, handing it back to you. He knows you know something. And if he's being honest, he's annoyed you didn't tell him. You aren't that close but...his dad just got shot and Jason fucking Todd knew about it. It was a hit. He stood outside and did nothing. Why wouldn't his own girlfriend know he's alive and planning a hit? You have acid generation and combat clairvoyance while also being an excellent marksman. Tim swears it can't be some coincidence you were there tonight.

"I'm really sorry about your dad." You state softly, holding the helmet on your thigh.

"Thanks." Tim looks back at the hospital. "That was Jason Todd outside, wasn't it?"

You nod softly and you know you can't deny that. Tim saw him "Yeah."

"I thought he was dead." Tim questions as his voice holds hints of venom, something you haven't heard before.

"Yeah." You nod again and you hate yourself for tonight. For everything. "Don't, uh, don't tell anyone. It's a long story." You hang your head, dodging the look Tim is surely giving you.

"You knew?" Tim scoffs, looking at you with annoyance and disappointment. Why the hell would you let everyone believe he were dead? "He faked his death or?"

You look back to him and all this sucks. You're sick of lying and hiding secrets. It's tiring and lonely. It's so fucking lonely.

"No." You shake your head. "He, uh...he really, uh...he really died." You suck in a shakey breath before you shake your head quickly. "I-I can't tell you anything else." You let out a bitter scoff. "That's shit and I know that. I'm sorry."

"Did he target us because of you? Because of the Titans?" All Tim wants is some clarity. There had to be reason. Tim helped you with a code. That's what it was.

"Not a Titan." You sigh with exhaustion, lacking any and all fight you'd normally have with the statement. "I don't know why." You lie but you're sick of this. Keeping these secrets is making you out to be the bad guy with everyone and you're not. You're just trying to protect everyone you care about so, you're not going to tell him in so many words but you're not going to cover it up either. "Um...yeah...maybe it was because of me but uh...I, uh, I never...I never thought he'd figure it out or....or come after you. I should have left you out of it."

Tim nods bitterly and he wants to understand but his dad could have been killed. "That code, it wasn't a murder mystery thing, was it?" Tim asks and you just suck in a breath, not offering him anything else. Technically, you aren't lying and technically you aren't telling him anything. He already knows. You don't need to so he nods. "I saw what you did. You knew they were going to start shooting. I was right."

You shake your head, looking to the sky and it's gloomy as always but it looks like it might snow. You scoff looking back to Tim. "I saw the guns."

"Bullshit, you know," Tim gestures a hand to you. "You're supposed to be a hero, like Batman and Robin but..." Tim shakes his head.

"Fuck Batman." You mutter as your jaw clenches.

"You're supposed to help people." Tim says sternly.

The lump in your throat grows and you bite your cheek so hard the taste of iron floods your mouth. It's not supposed to be this hard. And why does helping people have to be so black and white? Good and bad? It's not. Whether anyone likes it or not, the guys you want to target and take out permanently and the guys Jason was going after, that was helping. Making sure they can't hurt anyone else ever again. That's helping. Dick thinks he can help all of the Titans and he fucks up sometimes which gets people hurt, but he still helps. Sometimes people get hurt and that sucks but does that really make everyone else irrelevant? Does that really make everything else wrong? Or the motive and reasoning?

Helping people shouldn't be black and white, good and bad, morally good and morally evil. There needs to be a grey area because you have people like the Joker who needed to be killed for the greater good of everyone in Gotham. And you have people like Jason who isn't in his right mind and is being manipulated but should still be helped. It sucks Tim's dad got shot and you will regret going to Tim for help forever, but you're helping him by not telling him anything, even if you want to and even if he doesn't see it that way.

"I am literally begging you to please go inside and leave this alone, Tim." You force the words through gritted teeth. "I can't fucking tell you anything else, okay? I want to. If it were up to me, I'd fucking tell you what's going on but I can't. It's not my shit to say." You look to the ground and then back up to Tim, rolling your shoulders softly. "So, I'm sorry." You shake your head, giving up and cluing him enough. Technically, you're not admitting to anything, just admitting that you know what's going on.

"You just confirmed it." Tim says softly. "I'm gonna figure out what's going on and--"

"Tim! Please, go be with your dad. Trust me." You practically beg him because if he digs into this, what's going to stop Jason from actually going after him? Tonight might have been a threat or whatever, but at this point, you don't know if he would actually go after someone like Tim. You need him to just take what you're saying and understand it.

"That's my dad."

"I know and I know it sucks. I get it which is why I'm telling you to go be with him." You say softly as your voice cracks.

Tim nods softly, understanding why you're saying it. "Thanks for the ride."

"Just...text me about your dad, okay?" You ask. "I'm really fucking sorry."

"I will." Tim nods because he's beginning to think maybe this isn't on you. He might know who you are but you aren't as cut and dry as Batman and Robin always were. You're more morally grey and maybe it is more complicated because it involves Jason. You look terrified. "Thanks for saving me."

You nod quickly. "Of course." You say softly. "Good luck." You suck in a breath, popping the helmet on and taking off.

prev. chapter

series masterlist | masterlist | tag list

A/n: I still promise reader and Jason get a happy ending lmao This just had to happen lol but I do make up for it a little bit next chapter (pretty sure it's next chapter)

Tag list: @fairyofshampoo // @italiana-20 // @jasontoddsmentaldisorders // @purplerose291 // @lovelessamai  // @makaelaseresin // @lenidaslenchen // @mayfieldss  // @ghostkingblake // @im-done-with-this-im-out // @velvetskies // @lilylovelyxo // @cryinghotmess // @yesimwriting // @vivian-555 // @stainedstardom // @baebeepeach // @legend-o-zelda // @harleycao // @somehow-lovable-trash  // @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx // @deyja-the-duck // @jasontoddslover //  @captainmarvels-blog // @totallynotkaibiased // @scarlovesyou // @whydoyoucare866 // @littlemeowmeow1000 // @ginger24880 // @septixtrash // @kplatzman // @urmomsgayforme5

Would you consider either doing a Dabi x childhood friend or Jason Todd x childhood friend?

YES TO BOTH OMG EJFBKDBSKS i love love love that idea anon!!

Ill post them as soon as possible YIPPIE

(ill probably finish season 6 and 7 of mha before posting the dabi one bc MY MAN DESERVES JUSTICE and i need to have every detail of his backstory FRESHHH)

Hi! I don't know if you are still taking requests, but if it's so, can we please get an Atsumu x reader one shot, specifically, a one shot where Atsumu is scared of commitment, and reader just wants to get married, and due to Atsumu's fear of commitment, she wants to break up. Then he regrets later and tries to win back reader, realising that deep in his heart, he cannot live without her.

I'll leave the ending to you^^!

Hiiii I'm still taking them yes!

Anon? Anon? Did ya get on my brain or something? Hooooly moly this plot is so good let me kiss your mind smooch~

Pairing: Timeskip! Atsumu x Fem reader

Genre: Angst, hurt/comfort

Warnings & content: grammar - Atsumu has an avoidant/anxious attachment style lol - overthinker reader- petnames - Reader owns 2 cats - Sometimes it's not about the screams, it's about what your words mean

He used to get into problems because of his "Big mouth" (Osamu's words, not his)

Being harsh on someone from the team "whatever"

Lying on Aran's or Samu's face (usually little things tho, like pudding)

Or right now, when after his girlfriend of 2 years showed him a video of a wedding dance and he dismissed it as:

"A pretentious celebration, don' understan' whats the fret about it"

"Well we are not dancers but still it is fun, don't you think Tsumu?"

"Ah 'm talkin' 'bout the wedding"

A needle falling could be heard after that butch of information

"Uh what?"

He just looked at you with an almost bored expression

"I'm not cut for that pretty, all that married lifestyle an' stuff 's just..... Boring fer me"

Your mood obviously shifted drastically. Of course, you weren't expecting that the man you love with all your heart and soul would overrule something you showed interest in such a cold way

"So what you are saying is..... You don't wanna marry me?"

He shifted his gaze from his phone to your face, cringing a little at your pretty obvious disgruntled expression

"We don't know what will happen tomorrow doll we jus' better enjoy our time now"

The shock travelling through your body made you shiver.

"'m jus' sayin'... Ya kinda lose some freedom when ya get married. It's complicated"

You opened your mouth but there was no sound going out of it. You really really didn't expect the evening to turn like this

Then there was set an uncomfortable silence

"Angel?"

"I'm sleepy Tsumu, goodnight"

The bed felt colder even when an hour later he joined you to bed. His arm circling your waist not representing the same love you thought about

The next morning he left with a kiss onto your forehead, an "I love you" and a promise to come back for dinner

It was a custom at this point in your relationship, but this time it felt fake

Why was he still with you if there was no prospect of the future?

Was wanting a wedding too much? Did he plan on to leave you at some point of your life?

The dampness in the pillow signaled you to get up and get ready for the day

For some people it would be dumb or insignificant. A wedding only being a legal paper, a contract, a figure, something done out of selfishness to secure an income or stuff like that

But for you, it was almost your dream since you were little. Glimpses of white, with little brown and gold details, maybe your pet as the ring bearer, and your future husband in all his glory smiling or even crying at the sight of you, like a princess out of a fairy tale. Vows evoking eternal love, promises of care and devotion. A signal of how much you loved that person.

Now that image was not going to be filled with Atsumu's figure nor your cats.

The pang on your chest made your eyes fill with tears again. You had never thought Atsumu would have such an strong opinion about marriage, to think that you two were not on the same page pained you to the brim to the point you had to sit down

You wanted to be selfless, you did. But what would possibly be holding him back that much? Wouldn't he even agree to a civil wedding?

"(...) all that married lifestyle an' stuff 's just….. Boring fer me"

It wouldn't be a lot more different to what you had now... Did that mean that he was bored now?

"Ya kinda lose some freedom when ya get married"

Were you that type of girlfriend tho? A controlling one? No, you were sure about that, so what type of freedom was he talking about?

Your thoughts weren't taking you anywhere, but you were sure about something

You didn't have a future with Atsumu

Meanwhile, on the MSBY's gym, a very restless Atsumu was trying his best to not let his personal life affect his work

But how could he not? When you, the girl he loved so much it hurt, asked for marriage

It's not like he despised the celebration itself, but to him it meant a big step he wasn't ready to take. No now, probably never

Why would you want to change what you had until now? The fact that you seemed so hopeful about it pulled the strings on his heart.

If he was honest with himself he kind of knew this conversation was to come soon. You were watching even more romantic shows that involved characters with healty depictions of marriage instead of the usual comic gag

Or sometimes caressing his ring finger

Still, he wasn't ready. So he hoped he could work things out, you always found the way to do it and while he was terrified of the long term feeling, he just knew he loved you and that was enough

Or so he said to himself

"I know you have a loud mouth but you could have word it in another way Miya"

"I panicked Omi ok?!"

Of course Sakusa noticed the change on his team mate and Atsumu felt he had to talk about it to someone. The raven haired man being his best option so he let all the story out

Sakusa sighed and finished packing his stuff

"I'm just saying Miya, usually this type of disagreements don't end fine"

"Are ya trying to cheer me up or make me feel like garbage?"

"Your words, not mine"

Atsumu could only look at his friend with a mix of a frown and a pout

"I'm surely not the one to tell you this but.... What are you so afraid of?" And like that, the curly man went out of his sight

Atsumu was left sitting on a bench fiddling with his fingers, wondering and thinking about it

While his parents marriage ended in divorce it didn't end bad, they actually did a good job Co parenting the twins.

His dad had shared that they simply felt out of love after so many years, so there was this lingering fear of "Maybe things aren't meant to be forever even if they are really good" What if that happened to him too?

He was sured he loved you, the butterflies in his tummy and the lovesick glances he pulled everytime you looked at his direction were proof of it.

But, what if?

He wanted to be happy as long as life could let him be

He sighed once again this time against your shared apartment, a weak smile forming into his lips watching the "welcome" cloud shaped rug you had insisted to buy the last trip to the supermarket

His nerves were eating his heart out but he knew it wouldn't be intelligent to run away to Osamu just like he did whe he was little. He wanted to properly apologise and show you clearly his fears (maybe he should start going to that therapy Bokuto was talking the other day)

"Angel I'm home!"

Total silence

Huh? That was weird? You always had music even if you were working in your laptop

Maybe you were taking a nap, sure

"Doll?"

He almost got a heart attack when he opened the door of your bedroom and found you siting on the edge of the bed

"Jesus Christ baby! Ya were as quite as a mouse oh my God"

While he clutched his shirt over his chest he noticed you hadn't answered to him. Worried he looked at you and man, he swore his heart skipped a beat

You were wearing your prettiest clothes, something you only wore in his or your birthdays. Something reserved to memorable occasions

But your composure lacked that welcoming and prideful aura you would carry in that outfit. Your smile was rigid, your posture almost as if you weren't welcomed.

He cringed internally trying to decode your demeanor

"Baby yer scaring me...."

"I wanna go out today if that's OK with you?"

"Eh?"

Your voice, soft and gentle. But not like you talked to a frightened animal, no. It was the tone you used when you don't want to upset a beast

His heart wrenched in his chest. You had never spoke to him like that

"'Course I want ta, W-whats the occasion?"

He didn't like how thick the air was becoming. How it was like all of his senses were prepared for the worst

"Just because" You laughed softly and kinda dry

He tried looking at your eyes, but your glance moved from one thing of the room to another, evading him

"OK, I'll be ready in a minute, wait fer me"

When he cleaned and dressed himself up you went out. He tried holding your hand several times while walking, but you avoided it

His chest felt constricted and he tried and tried until you finally held his pinky with yours. But the touch was barely there and honestly? It was killing him

You dined at you both favourite restaurant. Not too fancy not too "family inn". And it was your place, a fact that was making him feel even worse

And it wasn't better for you, your apettie was in the floor and you ate for the sake of your stomach, not having the energy to eat anything at all through the day.

At the end, he knew something was definitely up when you skipped dessert. Your most favourite one only being made in this place. He had to do something and he had to do it now

He proceed to pay the bill against your wide opened eyes and took you out. This time holding your hand entirely with his, taking you back home

It was at the stairs you halted and he let go of your hand, missing its warm

"What's on yer mind doll, please...."

He looked back at you and his breath hitched when he saw your uncommon impassible face with big tears running down your cheeks

But what made it worse, and what made him dizzy was the sentence that went out of your now wobbling lips

"This is the night I'm letting you free 'Tsumu"

"W-what?" his own voice turning shaky and breathy

"I kinda wanted to be selfish and spend a last night with you"

You had to take a deep breath, hiccups making your speech a tad bit difficult to deliver

"I just wanted to be with you a last time"

Last

Last

"I love you Atsumu, but we don't.... We don't have the same goal, we don't have the same mindset" You smiled weakly at him while he just looked at you in shock

You could almost swear there were a bunch of tears forming on his eyes

"And it's ok really but... B-but" You couldn't help the whine that came out, your pain, sadness, and everything else being put on a silver plate for your lover to see

"I just can't do this if I know you won't love me same as I do"

"I LOVE YOU!"

You gasped and flinched at the sudden raise of his voice. But more than anger there was desperation and grief into it

"I love you so so much its insane and I'm sorry, I-I'm sorry"

He was almost full on wailing like a child, just like when they're taken away form their parents on the first school day

Or how he cried when his dad went out of the door

"I'm terrified ya know? Terrified that all of this we've been living is just meant to end and I just-"

He looked up trying to stop the tears, unsuccessfully

"I don't think weddings are dumb or that I would lose something. But I'm so so afraid of what will happen if we settle down"

You were surprised of yourself when you cradled him into your arms. His own circling your waist immediately and holding you as if you were to disappear at any second

"What if you go away someday? What if I go away? What if this is just some cruel destiny's game?!"

His mind was fuzzy, feeling that your departure was seconds away stirred his fight or flight response

If his time with you was meant to end he didn't want it to be now, the overcrushing feeling of losing you now was greater than his fear of compromise

Right now, he was convinced he needed you more than oxygen, more than the sun, more than his own life

"Tsumu"

"But Please stay, don't leave. I don't ever want to have last things with you. At this point I don't even care"

When he looked at your eyes you could sense all of his renowned devotion

"I hurt ya and you suffered because of that. I swear it won't happen again.... Promise..."

After several minutes you both could only try to control your shaky breaths, dry the remaining tears and hold each other

"Marry me...."

"What?"

He pulled away, giving you just enough space to see directly at him

"Marry me....not right now but I..... I can only think of how miserable our life's are without each other and why would I mess up all we've done, all we've lived over a fear I can work on....."

Your eyes watered once again

"I don't wanna impose-"

"Yer not imposing..... I decide I wanna do this"

The strength of his arms were finally giving you the confort they meant to be

"If yer willing to be with this.... Broken piece of man..... Please stay by ma side"

He held your face with delicacy, as if you were the most delicate gem

And for your delight, you now recognised your beloved stare

"I wanna give myself to ya, make ya happy"

"Cuz you're definitely worth the try"

Not my brain fully functioning to do this instead of my grade paper

Writing angst for Tsumu is soooo satisfying as I said before. This was probably my fav rq until now (prob cuz I'm happy with the result)

Hope you like it! 💙

Natdu

aren’t promises meant to be broken?

at 17 sirius promised to always be there for you whenever you need him. now 3 years after your break up, sirius has yet to break this promise.

tags: sirius black x f!reader,, magical nuisances,, exes to friends to lovers,, hurt and comfort,, fluff,, angst,, slytherins + pandora,, no voldy

a/n: took me an embarrassing amount of time to finish but i’m kinda soft for this fic ngl

people never stay friends with their exes. even with the promises of being one when breaking up. most find it, understandably, too awkward to continue any sort of relationship with them.

you would have been one of those people, at least you think so. but certain circumstances have deemed this preference a futile thought.

“i can’t believe you got me here to clean your bathroom.” sirius glared, peeling off the rubber gloves off his hands and slumping down on the breakfast nook.

“someone had to do it.” you shrugged, “it wouldn’t be the first time,” you smiled, vanishing the gloves and cleaning the table too. before placing a plate in front of him filled with sausages, toast and beans.

“that’s the fucked up part! it isn’t even my first time doing this.” he groans, grabbing a fork that you immediately slapped away.

“wash your hands first, you animal.”

he whines a protest but gets up anyway, rubbing his slapped hands as he does so—pouting because he’s dramatic like that.

“aren’t you going to eat with me?” he asks, his back turned to you as he washes his hands.

you were almost going to say yes, out of habit, having done so numerous times before. but remembered belatedly, the date set up by regulus with one of his work colleagues. a proper fit to you, he said. “no, i’m meeting somebody for dinner later.”

he closes the tap, turning to you again. “dinner? with who?”

you clicked your tongue at the dripping mess he’s making on the floor. grabbing paper towels and tossing it to him to wipe it himself. “some bloke from regulus’ work.”

“regulus? another date then?”

you nodded, feeling a bit uncomfortable at the idea of talking about dates your ex’s brother set you up with.

he frowned. going back to the table and grabbing the fork to start eating the warm food. “i see,”

and that was, thankfully, the end of that.

you didn’t really want to delve into your dating life with anyone, much less your ex-boyfriend of all people—no matter how many times he cleans your bathroom. it was already morbidly pathetic, how your friends seem to think you needed help finding someone new and to move on with.

but in your defence, it is rather difficult finding someone who would be okay with your, er, arrangement with your ex.

it is all sirius’ fault, really, but what isn’t? accidentally making a magically-binding promise to you, seems just like the type of thing he would do. and he has.

ever since he made that promise at 17 when you’ve just started dating, sirius has been showing up in your life, ready to help you with anything you need. you thought of this is in a more figurative sense, but no. that was too simple.

instead, whenever you need something. maybe something as simple as scratching your back, to partaking in a monthly bathroom cleaning, sirius would just appear out of thin air into your house, or wherever you need him, and he would be required to do it else he wouldn’t be able to leave.

when you were dating, this was something you both enjoyed, sometimes even looked forward to. using it as an excuse to latch unto each other the whole day. but now, having been spilt for how many years now (3 but who’s counting?) you can imagine how this magic promise has become a nuisance in your everyday life.

you tried resisting it, of course. though the power of will and mental fortitude can only do so much when you can’t reach the top shelves of your kitchen. forget about avoiding your ex, when he can just pop in whenever, wherever, when you get so much as a paper cut. you can see how the novelty of the situation can run its course. so much so, you sort of just learn how to deal with it instead of fighting it.

you’ve learned to use this to your advantage, of course, making him do chores around the house, makes him a great house elf without the moral issues of owning one.

he was also quite reluctant, when you both broke up, but that was to be expected. he had tried moving away to france, thinking the distance might prevent him from showing up. but that only made it difficult to explain to the travel officers how he can exit the country without violating travel wizarding laws.

regardless of the reluctant acceptance of such peculiar arrangement, you still have that hope you can somehow reverse it.

this particular hope always trampled by your friends’ insistence to utilize your situation to your extreme satisfaction.

“i don’t understand why you would want to remove it, to be honest.” dorcas frowned flipping through the pages of magical vows and contracts, vol.2. “i mean if i had someone doing things for me all day long, i certainly wouldn’t complain.”

“are you joking? why would anyone want to stay bound to their ex?”

she looked over to you, tone playfully mocking, but mocking regardless. “you mean an ex who does everything you need him to?”

“well, how would you feel if lily was always around you doing stuff for you?”

“oh please, if lily was bound to me, cleaning my bathroom wouldn’t be the only thing she would be doing.”

you grimace, “spare me the details, i beg of you.”

“so you wouldn’t like it if you and sirius partook… in certain late night activities?” she hummed.

you sputter out scandalized gasps, face feeling gruesomely warm, “don’t be disgusting! i have no intentions of ever doing anything with him and i assume he share the sentiments, a-and it is appalling that you think so—!” you breathed in deep, willing your face to relax and to settle your wild heart. “i don’t need him to be anything other than a reluctant acquaintance.”

pandora laughs from the floor, “not even considering him as a friend? poor sirius.”

you huff, embarrassed and frankly a bit betrayed.

you friends have convinced themselves of sirius’ intentions to be more than what is required of him. pushing you of all people to act upon seducing him using your gods given womanly assets, as pandora had once labelled.

you abruptly stood up from the table, going over to the stove to reheat the water to make more tea. “besides, i am perfectly capable of handling things by myself, thank you very much.”

it’s dorcas who laughs this time, “what do you mean? just last week, he had to bandage your finger for you because you bit your cuticle to blood. you are entirely dependent on him at this point.”

you huff, “i am not. i am a woman capable of attending to my own needs. that was the bind’s requirements of it all, i have to let him do these things or the bond won’t ever let him leave, you know this already.” you groan, rolling your eyes. “my point still stands. i don’t need him, nor will i ever need him. i just want all of this out of my life and in the past, like it should have been.”

“doesn’t he have his own room in this house by now?”

“it’s not his room, it’s a guest room— that he frequently uses. there’s a difference.”

it was pandora munching on peanuts, wholly amused that responded next, “right,” she drawled, “and that’s why he has his clothes folded and tucked away in the closet.”

“oh piss off, the nuisance sometimes happens in the middle of the night. how could i let him go home so late? what kind of host would i be?”

“couldn’t he just go home straight after?” dorcas asks.

“is it a nuisance, still?” pandora asks.

you cross your arms, petulant, “he can, but he chooses not to. and yes, still.” you scoff, “i know you think something filthy is happening but i particularly don’t enjoy his impromptu trespasses, believe me.”

“i don’t know, you two seem to be getting along quite well.”

“me and that useless oaf? are you joking?”

pandora smiled sweetly, “hardly useless now, i hear.”

“and what did you hear?”

“takes care of you quite well, what with dinner invites with the potters and even travelling?”

you turned around, fiddling with the tea cups, hoping to hide your darkening flush. but you know it did nothing, judging by their giggles.

“travelling?” dorcas inquired, interest piqued.

you don’t see her but you can sense her teasing smile.

you have yet to share that tidbit of embarrassing info to her. mainly because you don’t know how to squeeze it in and you don’t know how to even begin.

you did go to the potters for one random dinner. the invite came after sirius had come and helped you arrange your home library. it was just a simple dinner. filled with other people, hardly anything scandalous.

the travelling together was accidental. you were off to travel with bloke #4, as graciously dubbed by sirius (someone regulus had set you up with at the time) off to a romantic getaway for the weekend to a hot spring up the mountains. only to get thirsty halfway through your trip and have sirius show up in your train compartment only in his boxers and fluffy bunny slippers.

there were no other stops in the train. anti apparition wards set up and the floo connection was severed in the hotel to promote exclusivity, sirius had to join in on the activities through his relentless insistence. he had ate and laughed obnoxiously loud - sitting dangerously close to you the entire trip. he had constantly went on a tangent, reminiscing about your past relationship ranging from random dates to the make out spots you’ve frequented together in hogwarts. safe to say that was the last time you’ve heard from bloke #4.

but you could hardly think to be upset about that. you quite… enjoyed yourself.

but you’ll be damned before you admit that to these two vultures.

taking a deep breath, “there was no dinner invites nor travelling. it was—“

“magical nuisance, yes, yes.” pandora waves off.

you roll your eyes again, grabbing the hot kettle to steep the tea. “stop trying to make things—ah! fuck, ow.” you hiss, holding your painfully warm, stinging fingers. you see the tiny boils already appearing on your skin, the piercing pain shooting through your fingers. you squeezed your hand, hoping to elevate some of the pain.

sirius made a quick move to grab your wrists to pull you to the sink. you didn’t even hear him arrive.

“what happened?” he asks, silver eyes looking at you in intense worry. softly holding your hand under the cold running water gliding down your hand. he was standing so close to you you could smell a tiny hint of his soap. you slowly start to relax.

that is before you catch dorcas’ glinting gaze and pandora’s knowing smile. both of which you vehemently ignore, as you stare at your red fingers and his much larger hand on yours.

“i burned my fingers on the kettle.”

“goodness love, you have to be more careful.”

“sorry.” you mumbled, but having no idea why you would even apologize in the first place. still, you feel the heat of your hand spread to your body.

dorcas, having stood up to help you sat back down again, “hello, sirius. right on time as always.” she called, a cetain lilt in her voice you nervously recognized.

“sirius black, what a coincidence.” pandora sing songs, no subtlety whatsoever.

oh, they are just the worst.

he regarded them both in an overly familiar smile (an ex shouldn’t give to his ex’s friends) and in a light teasing tone as he says “good evening, ladies. why do i get the feeling like you’ve been gossiping about me?”

“you might have been mentioned once or twice.” pandora shrugged.

sirius softly laughs, the sound barely heard over the sink, before he stares at your fingers again, rubbing his thumb over the sensitive skin. before looking at you with a teasing smirk to which you only roll your eyes at.

you see shuffling in your peripheral, meeting your friend’s eyes, you see them gesture to you and sirius. trying to wordlessly communicate to you with wide smiles. you imagine something akin to, see? what did we tell you? not useless right? nuisance my ass. look at you guys holding hands under the water.

as if just realizing it now, you pull your hand away from his grip in an embarrassed haste, as he slowly lets go with a small frown etched on his face.

drying his hands on the towel, as he leans down to unnecessarily whisper to you. “i’m going to get a burn salve, i’ll be quick.”

“it’s in the—“

“bathroom, yes, angel, i know. just wait for me.” he drawled, giving you a wry smile.

you stare at his retreating figure. you almost want to laugh at his serious reaction to a simple burn from a kettle. hardly calls for any salve. but you kept the comments in, for whatever reason. a fluffy, dangerous feeling erupting in your chest.

you hear dorcas whistle to get your attention, a smirk on her face, “angel?”

when the promise first happened, it was during graduation from hogwarts. absolutely gutted by the fact that your parents didn’t show. they’ve been vocal about their disappointment that you weren’t able to finish at the top of your class. but you had hoped they would still show. you were, after all, still their kid.

but there was noticeably empty seats in an area reserved for your family. so, naturally as any teenager, the next best thing you could do in the situation is cry alone in a bathroom.

though the lack of company didn’t last too long, because then your boyfriend appeared, looking to be in a middle of taking pictures if his big and goofy face is anything to go by.

he heard you, before he saw you. hearing your soft sniffles and the tiny hiccups from your mouth. at the time, you both didn’t question what had happen. why he was inside the girl’s bathroom, why is there a strange pull to follow your every whims. but he was suddenly there to comfort you, and make you smile again—who were you deny his services?

you both only managed to understand what was happening by the third time it happened. sirius suddenly appearing by your bedside, wet and covered in suds. he was in the middle of showering and you promptly freaked out, seeing large bits you weren’t ready to see yet.

but understanding why it was happening didn’t mean both of you would be prepared anytime it actually happened.

the bind didn’t pick and choose when, where, and why he would appear. there was an embarrassing moment when he showed up in the bathroom when you’ve ran out of tissue paper. also at your house during dinner when you needed salt, to which your parents justifiably freaked out at the sight of a boy, claiming to be your boyfriend.

this hasn’t changed years later.

now as you lie in your bed, feeling the scratchy feeling in your throat. you knew by the tingles in your arms. the thrumming static of your magic within you— letting you know of his arrival before you could even sit up.

there he was, your ex-boyfriend, like the days before. it was terribly late, and he was struggling to even stand straight as he yawns in the middle of your room, wearing a set of well-loved teddy bear pajamas.

“somethin’ wrong baby?” his voice deep, hoarse and low. something exciting spiking through your veins, making you more awake.

you knew, if he was more alert he wouldn’t have called you that.

you try not to think why you feel miffed by that fact.

“jus’ some water please.” you call softly from your bed.

he yawns again, rubbing his flat belly, “okay.” he breathes, walking in the darkness of your room with practiced ease.

you hear the small sounds of clanks in the kitchen, and the fridge being pulled open.

he knew you liked you water cold. he knew where your drinking glasses were. he knew where you keep the salves. he knew your apartment in the dark.

in the beginning, especially after your relationship ended, you associated this binding promise as an act of forceful requirement. at best, you see it as a favour you give to a stranger. but lately, especially in the quiet of your house, the pet names that keeps slipping out of his mouth as of late—you start to dangerously think of this as something else. as something more. as something painfully familiar.

he comes back quiet, siting on the bed near your thighs, as he hands you the cool, moist glass. his hair was tousled more than usual. there were sleeping marks on his face. he was probably already asleep before you needed him here.

you feel a little bit guilty, but you see his flushed cheeks through the soft glow of the moon outside your window, and the hooded gaze he desperately tries to keep open. you fight back a smile instead.

“is that all, baby?” his hand softly smoothing your hair at the back of your head. your room felt ridiculously warm.

“thank you.” you murmured before setting the glass on the bedside table.

he gives you one last sleepy smile, eyes closed and his hair toppling over his eyes. “okay, if that’s all—“

“are you going back?” you cut in, holding his wrist, your finger on his pulse. keeping him seated before he could even stand. before his warmth leaves your bed.

“i don’t have to..” he offers. like always, giving you the choice to draw the line.

you hesitate before you answer, letting go of his wrist, “it’s late..” and that’s all you say, and apparently that’s all he needs.

“is it alright then, if i stay the night? then i can leave in the morning?” he whispers back. his warm hand, touching your thigh over the covers. he felt so far away.

you don’t do this, not usually. but in the dark space of your room you feel more confident. more assured. braver.

you move slightly to the side, giving him space, “if you want.” conveniently forgetting the existence of the spare room. choosing to blame it on the lack of sleep.

he smiles, moving the covers. the short moment of exposure making you shiver in the cold. he notices, quickly sliding into bed with you. arms stiffly on his sides and yours crossed across your chest.

still not brave enough.

you feel him shuffle, laying on his side and facing you. his fingers just barely grazing your sides in a soft touch.

you fell asleep faster than any other night, hearing him breath near your ear.

you dream of a teary conversation from a time not so long ago, of desperate pleas not to leave you. and when you feel his arm curl around your waist. you dreaming of nothing for the rest of night.

the next morning, you woke up later than you would have, and see the too empty space next to you. the pang in your chest, grossly familiar.

it had been a month since the night he’s stayed with you. not a breath has been acknowledged about that night. choosing to ignore the lingering tension, the long stares and the awkward dispositions.

you don’t know whether to feel relieved or frustrated.

of course, your friends had noticed this - because hadn’t they been analyzing each of your move when it comes to sirius black?

dorcas eventually had to force it out of you. to which pandora squealed and teased you in delight. insistent of the blooming change in your relationship.

“blooming change?” you repeated.

“what? it’s poetic!” she argues.

“it’s dumb,” regulus calls out. “y/n isn’t the kind to return to an ex, especially not to my dumb brother, right y/n?” he looks so earnestly confident. so much so that you couldn’t even lie to agree with him. truth be told, you have no idea if you were even the type to go back, regardless if it was reggie’s dumb brother or not.

because sirius has been your first boyfriend and if this bind continues on, he might be your last. you don’t know if that’s a good thing, all things considered.

everyone has turned to you now, in varying degrees of smugness, amusement, pride and playful pity.

dorcas laughs, saving you from answering. “i don’t know reggie, seems like y/n’s getting a little swayed.”

reggie reacts for you, as if offended. “she is not! she is actively going on dates and meeting new people.”

“oh?” dorcas smirked.

barty, sitting up straighter, “doesn’t he have a room here or something?”

you say, “no,“ “yes.” pandora quips, at the same time.

you rolled your eyes, “it’s a guest room—“

“one that conveniently went unused in one random night.” evan hummed, smirking, as he blew his smoke out the window.

pandora and dorcas ooh’ed.

“it was late! he was practically dragging himself from the floor, i couldn’t let him hurt himself after i interrupted his sleep, a-and he was already there, it’d be rude not to—i don’t even know why i’m explaining myself to you!— i don’t have to explain myself, because i did nothing wrong.” your met with four amused looks and one gut wrenchingly, disappointed one.

dorcas clicked her tongue, “i don’t know why you’re even fighting it at this point.”

“what do you mean by that?”

“i mean, you clearly want to be with him still.”

you sputter, sitting straighter, indignant as you say, “what gave you that idea?”

“the longing gaze.”

“acting all shy.” barty adds.

“the late night rendezvous,” evan hums.

“giving him his own room.” pandora pointedly looked at you.

“the inability to pursue any other relationship after him.” regulus tutted.

you gasp, betrayed. “even you reggie?”

regulus rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and legs, “i am running out of eligible acquaintances to set you up with, you know.”

you don’t even know how to respond to that.

frankly you can’t. because you know they were right, and dammit if that didn’t hurt your pride just a little.

still, ridiculously hung up on an ex that didn’t even love you. a joke, really.

but you relish in the idea of sirius being near you. it sends a certain tingle down your spine just knowing he’ll arrive anytime, and be there for you. you like how he always stands so close to you even if he doesn’t have to. you like how you don’t have to tell him what he has to do before he does it. you like the pet names naturally slipping past his pretty mouth. how he’s always touching you in some way. how familiar it feels. the habits, the conversations, the feelings—how easy it all seems.

but it isn’t. you know it isn’t.

because you’ve tried and failed.

you fell for him, loved him the way you know how. leaving nothing for yourself as you give everything for him. loving him with no expectations for him to do the same. and so, he doesn’t.

he couldn’t love you back. at least not in the way you entirely feel for him.

he couldn’t look past his life and the experiences he’d endured just to reach that moment in the past. it wrecked you. you didn’t expect anything, but it still hurt when you got nothing for everything you had.

you don’t like the reminder, but you know you need it. you know how destroying it is to forget. you’ve tried being with him already and it didn’t work. you say this to them, whispered, as if ashamed.

you don’t even feel the tears sliding down your check as you say this.

dorcas’ smile dropped and pandora immediately sat down beside you.

“hey, you know it won’t be like that again.” pandora rubbing your shoulders.

“do i?” you rasped. “what’s so different about now than before? what’s to stop us from breaking up again?”

“it’s going to be different because you are different, and so is he.” dorcas said. “you were just teenagers, you barely knew yourselves back then. you weren’t ready for each other yet. he had issues to work out, and you had to grow up a little to understand that.”

you sniffled, “and you think we’re ready.”

“yes,” they all said.

dorcas reaching over and squeezing your hand, “i know you’re both ready.”

you shake your head, you don’t know if that’s true, “our forced proximity lasted longer than our actually relationship. and it’s only lasted this long because it’s just that—forced.”

pandora shook her head, dangling earrings clinking together. “that’s not true. it’s lasted this long because you wanted it to. you both wanted it to.”

evan nodded, smothering his cigarette butt and throwing it outside, “i, personally, wouldn’t want to spend any second with any of my exes, but you both didn’t even try finding any sort of solution to break the promise.”

barty gives you an awkward smile, as evan continues “if you had wanted to call it quits you would’ve found a way to end all of this the moment he had broken up with you. but you didn’t—“

“that’s because i couldn’t—“

“don’t lie,” regulus cut in, pouting, looking a bit like a petulant child. “we all know you could have found something in this ridiculously large library of yours.”

“why are you suddenly advocating for sirius and i to get back together again?”

regulus clicked his tongue, looking away. a slight flush on his cheeks. “i’m not advocating anything.” he huffs. “he’s an idiot who doesn’t deserve you. but if it’s sirius that ultimately makes you happy. then so be it.”

you swallow a lump, breathing a staggering breath, “i don’t know if he even—“

“he does.” regulus looking at you, eyes clear and sure. “he wouldn’t be so cross with me for setting you up with dates if he doesn’t.”

that same night, sirius, for once, was not summoned by you but of a call from regulus.

he already feels the natural flare of irritation, bracing himself for another round of teasing hums and provoking stories about how you’re on a date in an exclusive restaurant, with a bloke who’s ready to give you everything you need.

standing up from james’ couch, going to the kitchen to block the noise from the muggle telley, as remus called it. then accepting the call,

“i swear if you’re calling just to gloat about another conquest you’ve put her through then—“

“she needs you.” regulus slurred.

feeling an immediate spike in his heartbeat. already grabbing his jacket and hurrying to the front door to leave.

“we’re in a pub, bring your motorbike or something, she can’t apparate right now, too drunk.”

“i’ll be there in 10.” grabbing remus’ keys off a bowl in the entrance.

“oi, where the hell are you taking my car?” remus shrieked from the couch.

without looking back, “she needs me.”

peter whines from the living room, “but the game-!”

and he only slams the door close as a response.

“we’re in the east village, near a fountain.” regulus sluggishly explained before hanging up.

sirius wasn’t the best driver. in hindsight, he probably should have asked remus to drive him to you. but this was about you. he could hardly think about anything else when it comes to you. he would do anything for you, binding promise or not.

he found it particularly odd and extremely worrying, why you’re drinking on a thursday night. he knew you couldn’t handle your alcohol well, always ending up drinking too much and passing out.

considering regulus had to call him to come get you didn’t help his nerves as he drove faster than the limit allowed.

when he arrived expecting the worse, he found himself smiling at the sight of you.

you were laying your head on regulus lap as you both sat on the bench. he can hear barty and pandora trying to lift each other. dorcas and evan cheering them on.

but all he can see is you laying there. eyes closed and cheeks darkly flushed, dress splaying over your thighs. regulus smoothing your hair, lulling you to sleep. when he met his brother’s eyes. the younger black rolled his eyes and beckoned him over.

“took you long enough.” regulus grumbled, now sounding sober than when he called.

“is she okay?” sirius asks, crouching down and staring at your sleeping face for any signs of discomfort or pain.

regulus sighs, “just got a bit carried away, this one. she was… upset tonight so we let her have her fun an—“

“upset?” sirius cuts, couldn’t help the finger tracing your cheek and jaw. your nose twitching at his action. “why was she upset?”

regulus waves his hand, making vague gestures but offering no explanation. sirius frowns.

“i can take her home,” standing up, now as he calls out to the others. “does anybody else need a ride?”

all four heads, shook their heads and offered varying words of thanks. “you reggie?”

“don’t bother, i’m perfectly capable.” he tuts. “be careful of that metal beast.”

with slow movements, sirius slides his arms under your neck and the back of your thighs. making sure your dress stay tucked and you comfortably napping before lifting you up.

once lifted, your head turns to the crevice of his neck, burying your nose and breathing in deep. wrapping your own arms around his neck with practiced ease and familiarity.

his heart thrumming and slowing all the same. he likes you like this, so close to him and looking so content as you do now.

nodding his goodbyes to the others, as he walks to the car again. opening the car door proved to be a challenge what with an armful of you. but he managed to do so without jostling you too much. he didn’t want to wake you, but such actions proved to be futile as the moment you were placed in the passenger seat, you froze awake.

he tries to appease you with a gentle smile, brushing your hair behind your ear. “hi love, i’m getting you home today, is that alright?”

“siri?” you rasp, looking at him like he wasn’t real. his chest pounding as he sees your eyes glossing and shining with unshed tears. he immediately crouch down in front of you, grabbing of your hands, and peppering soft kisses on your knuckles.

“what is it, my love, why are you crying?”

“you’re here?”

he nodded, kissing your knuckles again. “i’m here.”

you said nothing, just staring at him. looking so lost and tearful. he feels a little guilty thinking you to be heart-clenchingly adorable, right now. looking so soft and precious, the urge to stay the night in the parking lot and just stare at you was strong but he knows he has to take you home, else you get sick.

he thought you were to say nothing else. so, he stood to close the door and head to the driver’s seat but you whined. tugging at his hand still in your clasp and pull him to you. tucking his head into your neck and burying your hand in his hair.

this is entering dangerous territories now, he thinks. one he very much like to continue venturing but he knows you weren’t sound of mind right now. so he refrains from touching you anymore than he has. his hands desperately clutching to the cold, hard car, substituting for your soft, pretty skin.

you whine, “don’t go.”

“‘m not going anywhere, baby. i’m just going to the seat next to you.” he mumbled, his lips agonizingly grazing your skin, he ignores the way your body shivers and the filthy thoughts that come with it. his hands gripping the car tighter.

“next to me?”

“yes, next to you.”

you eventually let him go, but not without constant coaxing.

he drives, slow and steady. avoiding potholes and uneven roads. you fell asleep again, from the slow, quiet drive and the soft, mellow music coming from the radio.

then sooner than he had liked, he parks in front of your house. he kills the engine and he whispers his calls to you. not sure whether he wants you awake to be feeling okay enough to walk or asleep so he can touch you again.

he moves when you stay quiet, doing everything he can to keep you from waking up. letting out a soft hiss each time a creak or a thump echoes in your quiet house.

when he finally, finally reaches your bedroom and lays you there, he’s quick to take off your shoes. then the realization of his next move taunts him. although, you looked very pretty with your dress, he doesn’t know if he should change your clothes into something more comfortable for you.

he knew an intense hungover when he sees one. getting up to change clothes isn’t pleasant with a raging headache. he stares at your laying figure. the thin strap of your dress slipped down, and your legs looking longer than he remembers.

he looks away before he sees anymore. it didn’t feel right, looking at you that way. especially whilst unconscious.

he open your dresser, knowing the drawer you keep your pajamas.

he sees a familiar, more faded than he remembers, shirt he always wore. the thought of you wearing his clothes makes him too happy and giddy for an adult man.

he fights his heart from beating too loudly. afraid you’ll hear. bites his lips to stop his giddy grin, and forces his eyes to focus on his search. but eventually did land on his old shirt and some long bottoms so you’d be warm.

he slid the bottoms first. careful not to touch your skin but very much feeling the heat of your thigh. he held his breath as he reached the curve of your bum. stopping and not knowing what to do next. with one arm he lifts you slightly off the bed. and with his eyes clenched tight, fast and frantic hands—holding his breath as he went to pull it up.

next was his your shirt. he had you sit up, head laying heavy on his shoulders. softly pulling back from you to slip the shirt over your head before letting you lean into him again. guiding your arms and pulling the soft tee down.

with a bated breath, he feels for the zipper at the back of your dress.

fingers touching and sliding over your back. the touch leaving a lingering static in his fingers. when he clutched the thin tiny thing, he slide it down. slowly, careful not to pinch your skin.

he hears you sigh from relief, letting himself smile, knowing he did a good job.

he lets you lay back down, properly this time, slip off your dress, cleans your face with a warm wet face towel.

he knows he should go. he knows to let you get your rest and sleep. knows he should return remus’ car. knows the lads are probably waiting for him. but there is no urge to leave. instead he stares at your clean bare face, the soft lines and pretty marks on your face just adds more to your allure.

he didn’t know how long he stared at you. it could’ve been a minute to a full hour, too busy studying your face, seeing all the new marks and the familiar ones, committing them to memory.

he was about to leave, lest he bothers you and wake you up. but you stirred.

stretching as you did so. and blearily stared at him. expectant and quiet.

your voice hoarse but genuine all the same. “it’s late..” he knew what you mean. the unspoken invitation, just like last time.

and he wants to—god he wants to.

“i can’t baby,” you were drunk, he wasn’t. it wouldn’t be fair.

“you’re leaving again?”

that did him in, slumping down on the bed. rubbing your outer thigh through your covers. “i’ll stay then, just rest.”

“but you’ll just leave me like last time.” you mumbled.

he gives you a lopsided smile, apologetic and painfully endeared all the same, “i had to, my love, i had work.”

“no,” you breathed, softly shaking your head, letting out a staggering breath like you were going to cry. “i meant the first time.” you whispered.

it was shameful the way he slowly realized what you had meant. you didn’t sound angry or bitter. or even resentful even if you had all the rights to.

he didn’t respond. letting your words stew in his mind. the quiet in the entire house emphasized by the ringing in his ears. he didn’t know what to say.

what words you were waiting for him to say. what words he can say to make it all better.

he didn’t even know you still think about that. still thinking about your relationship, and what had happened, and why it ended the way it did.

still thinking about it like him, who sometimes find it difficult to sleep thinking about you and the pain he caused you. the regret heavy in his veins like lead.

he should apologize, probably beg or grovel about the way it ended.

he was about to.

but he hears your soft breathing again. the stillness in your body, only sleep can make that he realizes he’s lost his chance.

again.

he rubbed your thighs, still. hoping to lull you into a deeper sleep. he grabbed a glass of cold water and put a statis charm so it would stay cool. he petted your hair, and caressed your cheek. it was painful, and he struggled. but he eventually left. feeling the same amount of fulfilled and disappointment altogether.

it was the next morning where sirius was beckoned again, this time not by a call from his baby brother but by the usual pull of your magic. he had expected as much, even fixed up his hair and wore fresh clean clothes and even put on perfume.

he did it whenever he could. in case you were to need him.

he even has a couple of hungover potion in his pocket just in case.

when he got summoned, popping into your familiar bedroom like the nights and mornings before. he was greeted with you still buried under the covers, eyebrows scrunched and eyes already open. you looked like you’ve been awake for some time now, but still refused to move.

you looked so tired and groggy and so soft and warm and homely and pretty.

someone with a hungover shouldn’t look as good as you did. but you are. he ignores the flutters in his stomach, tightening into a coil and puts on an easy smile.

“good morning dizzy girl.” he sing songs. plopping down on your bed, making sure to bounce you a little as he did.

you groan some more, turning away from him, holding your head.

he softly laughs. reaching over to smooth out your hair, “did you drink water?”

“hn.”

he took that as a no.

“up you go, c’mon. drink, you’ll feel better.” he grabs the glass. still filled full and cool like last night.

sliding his rough hands under your neck and the other to your back. slowly sitting you up so you can drink. you give little to no protest at all at his touch and considers this a win. his lips feeling a little wobbly as he fights a smile.

you took a small sip and then a larger gulp, sighing after finishing the whole glass.

“i also have a hangover potion and a headache one that lily made, so you know it’s good—“

“you left again.” you rasped, a small frown on your pretty face, still turned away from him.

he stops.

it suddenly dawns on him how you’ve yet to look at him, or greet him like you do when he always appears. he chalked it up to you being hungover or the highly probable headache you must have. not sulking, or possible moping over the fact that he hadn’t waited for you until morning.

he feels his heart take up larger room than normal in his chest. the loud thrumming under his veins as his magic comes to life, the burning desire of it all, the ringing in his ears, his pulse loud and the heat coming to his face.

you weren’t playing fair.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, scooting near you. reaching out to wrap his arms around your shoulders, then lightly tugging you to him, to lean on him like you did the night before. it was through his absolute delight that you let him.

giving him the courage to continue his ministrations.

“you said you’d stay.” you softly whined, voice muffled by his neck. your hands gripping his shirt.

so unfair.

he’s fully hugging you now. he tries to fight the sigh that threatens to come out of his mouth from having you in his arms again.

he hadn’t expected for you to remember last night, what with constantly falling asleep. he should’ve prepared for it though.

“i’m sorry.” he repeats. this more graver than the last. this apology carrying more weight and more reason, when he remembers your last question.

“you always leave.” he feels something wet touch his neck. his hearts clench, the image of your tears too clear for him. “always leaving me.”

he tries to lean back to get a good look on you but once you felt him move away, you tightened your grip. now wrapping your own arms around his waist. sirius doesn’t know how to feel. suddenly wrapped in your warmness and the familiar feeling and the guilt that you’re crying over him.

again.

causing you pain, again.

“i know, i’m sorry.” he hates that it’s all he can say. hates he can’t say anything else.

so you ask, “why?”

why?

he knows what you’re asking isn’t about why he’s sorry for leaving. he knows you’re asking something else. one withheld from you from the very beginning.

why do keep calling me nicknames?

why do keep touching me?

why do i feel this way?

why can’t you stay?

why did you leave?

why didn’t you love me back?

there’s a lot of answers he’s withheld from you but he starts from the one heavy on his mind.

he suddenly wonders if you’ve been left wondering too.

if it keeps you up at night, and having no one to answer it. if it eats you up and if you regret being with him, the same way he regrets ever leaving you.

“i didn’t think that— you would want me to stay, after what i did. i didn’t dare myself to even think you could still want me— or even be around my presence at all.” he says this quiet and so close to your ear.

you let him go now, leaning against the bed post instead.

sirius instantly wishing for you to come back into his arms again, but he refrains.

“you thought i didn’t want you?”

“who would?” he laughs, albeit a bit self-deprecating but hoping you’ll take it as a joke. you only frown. “sirius, of course i would still want you. you’re the best thing that happened to me.” your eyes looked so clear then, so sure.

so sure it burns him.

“but i hurt you. i caused you pain, i’ve disappointed you again and again—“

“you didn’t disappoint me.” you grab his hands, your touch still so soft like he remembers it. “i was hurt, yes, but that wasn’t your fault. it was my own fault for giving you more than what you were comfortable with.”

he shook his head, frowning hard. “don’t do that.”

“what?”

“be understanding,” he laughs, incredulous. “taking responsibility for me being a shitty boyfriend to you for being a complete arse to you.”

“you did what you could. what with everything you went through?”

he turns away, but you grab his face with your other hand, and tilts his chin up.

“all the things you’ve had to endure? i know you try to hide your struggles with it all. but i see you. i see all the things, all the extra steps you have to take to become better than what your parents set you out for. and now look at you, making it out on your own. making new friends, no trace of the anger and bitterness they tried so hard to embed in you. i loved you for it all, and i understood why you couldn’t, even if it hurt. because that’s how people love. you love someone even if they have all the capabilities to hurt you more than anything in the world— and i have loved you for so long. and i might’ve not understood this when we were younger, but i do now. i wasn’t asking for apologies because i’ve long forgiven you for everything in the past. but i wanted to know what it is you felt. why you felt the need to hide the reasons from me.”

he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

you let his face go. but he grabs it. incasing your hand in his.

mind sticking to one thing he feared.

loved?

has he lost his chance again?

have you deemed him unnecessary?

“you don’t—?” he sighs, stopping himself, that wasn’t important right now. especially not if you were looking at him, looking so patient.

he started slow, contemplative if he can articulate it well enough for you to understand. “i didn’t think i could ever be capable of love, or be anyone you could ever want and need. because you’re amazing. when you said you loved me for the first time, i thought i was dooming you. my family. my circumstances. i thought i was going to ruin you and i couldn’t live with the thought of doing that to you. so i thought that leaving would be for the best. i tried to leave. tried and convinced myself it was for you. that i had to let you go for you. but i couldn’t do it. selfish as it is, i couldn’t let you go.

“i even found a way to stop the bind, but thinking that my last connection with you would be gone, and you would forget about me—have a life without me there, i couldn’t. because, because i love you. i have loved you from the moment you smiled at me. it terrified me, how much i love you and how much i was willing to do anything for you. i love you more than i could ever understand and i’m sorry if i couldn’t say it that time, i’m sorry if this is a bit late, but i love being needed by you. i love being around you. i-i need you, more than you could ever need me.”

he didn’t notice the tears spilling to his cheeks before you wiped it away for him.

your eyes looking so soft.

“you love me?” you breathed.

as if it was unbelievable.

as if it wasn’t possible.

sirius hates himself a little more at the thought he might have caused some insecurity for you.

because it was ridiculous.

“i love you.” and like a broken record, he repeats it. again and again and again. much firmer than the last.

and you smile, so big and beautiful. and your eyes shining and so pretty. it was like the sun was shining so much brighter that day. like the clouds were opening up in the sky and bathing you in a golden glow.

he repeats it again, because he’s spent so many years holding himself back. and if your reaction is the same every time he says it then he’ll say it everyday. with every sentence, with every greeting, with every meal you cook for him. with every night he picks you up from a pub absolutely sloshed. with every irritating conversation he has with his baby brother. with every teasing quips from the lads. with every secret smile you give him. every time he touches you, every time he looks at you. because gods, don’t you look absolutely magnificent and unbelievable right now.

“i love you,” he repeats.

“i love you too.” you laugh. like your smile was getting too wide and too happy that you had to laugh.

and his heart soars. couldn’t stop himself even if he tried, as he leans in and captures your lips like he’s done so many times before.

thinking himself a proper idiot if he ever thought he could ever live without touching your lips ever again.

he touches your face like he did the night before. he grabs your waist like he always does. and he tilts your heads like a time before. he tastes a salty thing as your tears slides near his lips and he relishes in its taste.

he feels the warmth spreading to his entire face and body. feels the humming of his magic intertwining with yours. your soft mouth moving against him. and the stretch of your lips, smiling into the kiss.

he pulls away even if he didn’t want to.

“i love you,” he says again, and you smile at him so sweetly.

he repeats it because of your pretty smile.

and again. because he can.

idc how old this is, everyone needs to read it

Damian Al Ghul and the Annoying Reporter Masterlist → Completed

Masterlist

AgedUp!Damian Al Ghul x fem!reader

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, low-key crack fic, action

WC: 18,500

All Warnings: violence, mentions of blood, character death, mention of death, self-consciousness, salty Damian, Titus liking the MC better

Synopsis:

Wanting to make a name for herself, Y/N does the unthinkable and tries to interview the heir to the League of Assassins. Although, it doesn’t go as planned. How will she be able to salvage this, especially when Damian Al Ghul doesn’t like strangers.

Chapter Index:

Teaser || chapter 1 || chapter 2 || chapter 3 || chapter 4 || chapter 5 || chapter 6 || chapter 7 || chapter 8 || chapter 9 || chapter 10 || chapter 11 || chapter 12 || Epilogue

Another day another 9k read instead of studying