Real

Til It’s Gone

Theodore Nott x reader

Based on this cute lil request 🤗

Summary: It seemed like they’d always been there. An ever-growing thorn in Theodore’s side. He really didn’t realize what he’d had until it was gone. (Happy ending I swear)

word count: 3.2k

©️ obsessedwithceleste. all works posted here belong to me and should not be reposted or copied in any way or form.

Theo let out a heavy sigh as he slumped into his seat, ignoring the cheery smile on your face as you turned to face him.

“Hi Theodore!” You chirped brightly, gaze landing on the tall brunette boy coming to sit next to you.

Salazar, here we go, Theo thought bitterly.

“Theo.”

“Right. Theo. How was your day?” You continued on, seemingly oblivious to his indifference as you scribbled mindlessly on your parchment.

Theodore wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite in fact. He knew you liked him. That much you’d made rather obvious. Especially as of late. If saving him a seat everyday in this miserable class didn’t make it clear to everyone that you had a certain affection for the boy, then the notes dropped in his bag, or kisses blown from across the Great Hall certainly did.

The only reason Theo even accepted sitting next to you was because the seat was positioned perfectly to be just outside of Professor Binns’ field of vision, saving him the work of pretending to care about whatever topic the professor was rattling on about.

“I don’t see why you even put up with it all,” Mattheo often said. “Just reject them and move on with it.”

“Or at least stop sitting with them. You’re only encouraging them,” Enzo would add.

Yet, here he was, still sat lazily in the seat next to you. Theo didn’t particularly care that you fancied him to be quite honest. He’d gotten used to the same pattern of stoically ignoring your chatter, copying your carefully organized notes, and leaving. So long as you weren’t too annoying, he didn’t see the harm in sticking around. Besides it’s not like you weren’t easy on the eyes. And he supposed there was something to be said about the confidence with which you acted that set you apart from the general hoard of girls harboring similar feelings.

“Theo?”

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts as he glances at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine.” He replied tersely before turning once more to stare blankly ahead.

He’d changed his mind. Absolutely not. This was horrible. At this point, Theo wasn’t even sure if you actually liked him, or were only claiming you did as an excuse to see how much you could embarrass him.

“Mate, this is getting to be Weaselette levels of weird,” Draco said as their group stared in horror at the third year who had approached them warily in the halls with a poem to read aloud in hand.

Theo visibly shuddered, remembering the awful valentine the youngest Weasley had sent Saint Potter a few years prior.

“Save everyone the embarrassment and walk away now, kid,” Draco told the boy. “Go on. Scram.”

The third year didn’t need to be told twice and quickly darted off, away from the group of Slytherin boys.

“It isn’t even 8am mate. Where does that girl get the time to do all this?” Enzo grumbles as they made their way into the Great Hall for breakfast.

Theo simply ignores his friend’s comments, something he was getting used to doing, as they all sat down at their usual table.

They’d all seemed to have an opinion on you as soon as it became apparent that you had developed a crush on him, and Theo had just about had enough of his friend’s seemingly endless comments regarding his not so secret admirer.

The familiar small parcel tied neatly with a white ribbon that sat waiting for Theodore in his usual spot didn’t go unnoticed, starting the whole thing up again.

“For Salazar’s sake Theo, do you not find it creepy?” Draco asks, eyeing the package.

Theo rolled his eyes at his dramatic friend.

“I don’t care. You all seem to be more interested in y/n’s little stunts than I am, and I’m the one they’re intended for. They’re harmless. Just leave it and they’ll probably get bored eventually.”

“Yeah, or they’ll just keep it up thinking you’re playing all hard to get or what not,” Mattheo snorts.

Theo just glares at his friend, stabbing a sausage with his fork. Just behind Matt’s head, seated at a table with your own friends, Theo sees you blow a kiss his way, winking cheekily.

“Aw, they growing on you? Who would’ve thought dark and broody would be into golden girl herself,” Mattheo teases, earning him a sharp kick from under the table.

“Morning Theodore,” you greet, as the brooding boy once again took his seat beside you, this time in potions.

“It’s Theo.”

“That’s what I said.”

You hear the boy let out a small snort and you smile to yourself. That was one of the biggest reactions you’d been able to get out of the boy.

Your friends often wondered why you so insistently pursued the grumpy Slytherin boy, despite his general apathy towards you, and honestly, it was as simple as the fact that you enjoyed the challenge.

It was like your own little game of cat and mouse. Constantly finding little ways to make the boy smile, even if he didn’t realize it was you. And the rush of excitement you got anytime you were able to elicit any sort of reaction from the boy was like a drug that kept you coming back for more.

You’d found that the best way to elicit such reactions was by staging little acts of public affection whether it be a kiss sent his way or an origami note perched on his desk. Each time, you could see the heat rise softly in the boy’s cheeks as he tried desperately to keep it at bay, sometimes even fighting back a small smile.

Today you had come to class a bit early in order to set up both you and Theo’s potion stations before the brown haired Slytherin arrived, taking extra care to gather enough ingredients for each of your potions. You weren’t even sure he realized that you were doing all this for him, but watching his satisfied smile as he brewed away made it worth it.

That was another thing you had grown to appreciate about the boy. While his friends were all rather light-minded and rowdy, his wit and level-headedness balanced out the group. Theo was smart, and didn't feel the need to make a point about it, flying under the radar of many of your classmates when it came to who had the best marks. Sure it was fun to tease the boy, but you also had a certain admiration for him that went deeper then the nonserious way you often conducted yourself around him.

The rest of the class passed in a sort of agreed upon silence as you worked on your potions. Of course you’d like to talk to Theo a bit, but you’d found he’d preferred the silence, usually not uttering more than a few words to you per class. It was something you could work on eventually you supposed.

“See you later Theodore,” you said brightly once you had finished gathering up your things. Joining your group of friends, you toss one last wave over your shoulder at the boy, smiling to yourself. He hadn’t bothered to correct you for once.

The last thing Theo expected while roaming the dusty shelves of the library was to hear his own name being whispered from deeper within the maze of books he was searching through. The library was where he went to escape his friend’s incessant gossip about the rest of the school’s population, yet he was interested in what was being said about him. He didn’t often venture outside his usual group of Slytherins, so he didn’t know exactly what he expected to hear.

Following the loud whispers, Theo stopped, looming in the shadows once he was able to make out the dark figures of students huddled in one of the many rows of books.

“Sure Theo might be one of the most attractive boys in our year, but his head is so far up his own arse, it’s a wonder he can see straight.” A voice practically snarled as its owner leaned lazily against one of the shelves.

Theo felt himself immediately tense. Is that what they thought now? His fists clenched as he refrained from crashing through the shelves to give these snots a piece of his mind.

“Honestly, being an arrogant prick isn’t something to be proud of. He’s just like every other Slytherin who makes being a pure blood their only personality trait.” Another voice adds.

“Oh fuck off you two.”

Theo’s ears perk up, surprised to hear your voice join the chatter.

“Please, like you’re one to talk y/n. You’re practically blinded by desperation. Theo Nott is an utter prat and he treats you like shit. Have some bloody self respect.”

“I’m not desperate, you git. And Theodore isn’t an arrogant prick. There’s nothing wrong with having a little bit of pride. It’s not like you see him going around bragging about how amazing he is. If you’re going to talk about arrogant pricks, talk about Cormac. Or Draco even.”

“Whatever. That still doesn’t excuse his behavior towards you. I don’t understand why you insist on embarrassing yourself when he clearly has no interest in you. But he’s too much of a coward to say anything.”

“Oh for the love of- Theodore doesn’t owe anyone anything. Me included. I do the things I do because I can and I want to, and quite frankly it isn’t anyone else’s business but my own. So why don’t you two get your heads out of your own arses and stop worrying about me, and stop worrying about Theodore.”

With that, Theo listened as your footsteps slowly got quieter as you stomped away, your words ringing in his head.

Theo had never been in love before. But in that moment, he was beginning to see the appeal. Fuck that was hot as hell.

For Theo, it all spiraled down from there as he finally began to see you. Really see you. And not just as some girl who had a silly crush on him.

It started with the notes. He hadn’t noticed before, but it wasn’t just him that you’d slip a note to in the hallway. After one particularly difficult transfiguration exam, Theo watched as you dropped a note with a chocolate candy attached into the bags of your friends.

Another day, he arrived to potions early to find you carefully setting up his station as he hovered in the doorway. After class, he didn’t rush out like he normally would and instead watched as you quietly slipped an extra copy of your notes to a student he knew struggled with the class.

And while you weren’t exactly blowing kisses to all of your friends across the Great Hall, Theo began to notice the way you didn’t hesitate to throw your arms around your friends, hugging them tightly when you got excited. Or grasping onto a hand as you wandered through Hogsmeade, arms swinging in carefree bliss.

It was about a month after Theo had begun his silent observations that he began to feel it. The slow pull away as your presence began to fade from his life. He almost didn’t notice at first. It had been about a week since he’d last found a note in his bag, or parcel waiting for him on his seat. You still smiled brightly at him if your eyes met from across the Great Hall, but now that he thought about it, Theo couldn’t remember the last time you’d blown a kiss his way.

It all came to a head the day Theo walked into History of Magic to see one of your friends sitting next to you in his usual seat, chattering away.

“Nice mate, they finally get the message?” Mattheo asks with a grin, elbowing him in the ribs.

Theo remained silent as he followed his friend to a seat in the back, eyes not leaving the spot where he should be sitting.

It continued on like this for what Theo thought was eternity. Salazar he missed you. Weeks passed filled with sleepless nights where he would stare at the ceiling contemplating where he had gone wrong. At the very beginning really, he thought dryly, remembering his initial feelings of agitation and annoyance. He wished he could go back and give himself a good smack upside the head.

The day Theo passed you in the hall and you didn’t even spare him a passing glance was the day Theo finally broke.

“Lorenzo.” He said, slamming the door of their dormitory open, startling his roommate.

“Theodore?”

Theo glares at the use of the name.

“You’re the romantic type. How do I do it?” Theo asked as he stomped his way over to his bed.

With a bemused look, Enzo swings around to look at his roommate, wondering if one of the ghosts had somehow possessed him.

“You want to know. How to do romance?” Enzo asks slowly, not fully believing he’d heard his friend correctly. Theo was probably one of the most emotionally detached people he’d ever met.

“Yes. Y/n. I want to make it up to her.”

"I thought we didn't like her?" Enzo said, growing more concerned for his friend's mental state by the minute.

"We didn't. But now we do, and I want to make things right."

Enzo blinked. Oh this was not going to be easy.

As you sat in the court yard with a group of your friends, textbooks in hand as you attempted to study for the charms test the next day, your eyes flickered momentarily as a sea of green wandered by. Quickly you look away before your eyes could meet Theo’s and you try to turn your attention back to your friend’s idle chatter.

It had been what? A month since you’d stopped actively seeking out the boy’s attention. Maybe more. And you missed him. His sarcastic smiles and pretty eyes that seemed to be fixed in a permanent glare.

But you were also tired. Mostly tired of the snarky comments. “Have some self respect.” “So desperate.” The voices of your classmates echoed in your head, and eventually you began to draw back. You knew he’d noticed. You’d seen his eyebrows furrow in confusion that day you’d let your friend sit beside you in class. A pang of guilt washing over you. But it’s not like he showed any signs of wanting things to go back to the way they were. So you simply stayed away. Maybe that’s what he’d wanted all along.

Your thoughts followed you as you eventually made your way back to your dormitory, wanting nothing more than to wrap yourself up in a warm blanket and disappear. As you approach your bed however, you make out something that definitely wasn’t there when you’d left that morning. A gorgeous bouquet of little white flowers wrapped in thick brown paper, tied off with a silky emerald green ribbon. Stamped on the corner of one of the brown folds, the letters TN shown at you in gold curls.

“Oh those are beautiful!” Your roommate gasps when she sees the flowers. “Lily of the valley! Those can symbolize renewal ya know. Usually they’re given as like, an apology of sorts, or if someone wants to start over.” She tells you. Ever the herbology buff. “Who are they from?”

A smile grows on your lips as her words sink in and you press the flowers close to your chest.

“Just a special friend,” you reply.

After all the months of Theo's coldness towards you, you'd never quite allowed yourself to truly believe the boy would ever return your affection, but maybe things were beginning to look up.

Over the course of the next several days, you begin to notice little things that had Theodore’s name written all over them.

After the charms exam the following day, you find a note of encouragement written in Theo’s familiar scrawl dropped in your bag along with a bag of your favorite toffees. How he’d managed to get it there without you noticing was beyond you.

There were little things too. Your stations in herbology and astronomy were always set up and waiting for you when you walked into class. The book on ancient runes that you’d been searching for showed up on your bedside table. (You weren’t sure how he was doing that either, but you weren’t about to question it.) And there always seemed to be a comfortable smirk on Theodore’s face whenever your eyes wandered over to where he sat with his friends, eyes seemingly boring into you.

Now, you sat quietly in your own little nook of the library, quill in hand as you scribbled away at your ancient runes essay, the book Theo left you being quite helpful.

You were happy he'd found his way back into your life, happier still that he was actually making a point to be included in your life.

“You don’t mind do you?” A voice asks, startling you and causing ink to splatter against the parchment.

With shocked eyes, you look up to see Theodore standing next your table as if your thoughts had summoned him there. He sets his books down, frowning at your now ruined paper.

With a flick of his wand, the mess is gone.

“Sorry bout that,” he mutters, sitting down across from you.

You blink, not entirely convinced you’re not hallucinating.

“You know, I remember you being much more talkative,” he says, a sly smirk reaching across his face as you realize you’ve yet to say anything to the boy.

“I remember you being significantly less talkative,” you blurt out before quickly covering your mouth with your hand in horror.

To your relief, the boy in front of you lets out a low laugh.

"Fair enough. See you've been liking the book," he says, gesturing towards the open text.

"Oh yeah, I've been meaning to say something, thank you."

"Don't worry bout it. I never said thank you for all the things you did. Probably should've." He replies, looking down as he pulls out his own quill and parchment. "I am sorry by the way."

"For?" You ask, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

"Everything. Or for doing nothing is probably more accurate," he says, flipping open his text book.

You can tell that he's nervous as he fidgets with the corners of the book's pages, and you desperately want to ease the tension between the two of you.

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as you debate whether or not to say anything more, or go back to your essay. Finally, you look up at the boy that you had been chasing after for all these months, and remind yourself that he had actually been the one to go through all the trouble of seeking you out tonight.

Gathering your courage, you open your mouth to speak. "Theodore?"

"Yes, Bella?" he replies, eyes carefully following the lines of next.

"Would you like to join me in Hogsmeade this weekend?"

His eyes snap up at this, and you see the familiar hint of red make it's way into his cheeks once more.

"Only if I can have my seat back in History of Magic." The boy replies.

"I think I can have that arranged."

Hi hi hi! I hope this lives up to all of your hopes and dreams, anon 🫶🏽

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

maybe i was born to read fanfic and obsess over fictional men idk

HELLO😭😭😭 WHAT IS THIS OMG IM CRYING

Camp Rock x Criminal Minds

THIS SCENE HAS NEVER FAILED TO MAKE ME LAUGH VIEHIFIOFV I CANNOT

Suddenly I’m a giant blue fish making eye contact with mgg…?

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

help me, the only reason why i haven’t posted a second chapter to my jason fic is bc idk why i always have to name my stories after songs, like the stories i have written in wattpad all have a song as a title AND I CANT FUCKING THINK OF ANY SONG WHICH I CAN BASE THE CHAPTER OFF😭 like i have a general idea of what to do with the fic but i have no idea of what to write in this chapter and which song i could base it off from😭

shhh baby, mommy’s cooking on docs

i SUCK at writing filler chapters oh but i wanted it to be slow burn didnt i? 🙄😔

sub!tate langdon with mommy!kink, where he humps on her leg like a little needy boy to make it up to her after a fight, cockwarming kinda

Sorry Mommy - Tate Langdon

CW: dry humping, baby subby tate, dom reader, cockwarming, lots of whining

Taglist/ @v-love @evanpetersfav @demxnicprxncess @kitwalkersgfff @quicksilversg1rl @dahmevan @charsdunkie @iruzias @alexxavicry @soaringcloud @laynna-mcknight @slimshadyvol2 @simp4petermaximoff @happyto-die

Word count: 1241

You lay with your back against your mattress, staring up at the ceiling at the fan as it spun in slow circles. You tried to take deep breaths to help distract you from the fiery rage that was building inside you. Your boyfriend Tate had disappeared after your small argument, leaving you to plummet deep into your own thoughts. Your fight spiralled after it started with you telling Tate to stop leaving his dirty clothes all over the floor.

"Do you even care?"

"No, actually, I don't,"

"I swear, you never care about anything!"

"You're not being serious right now, it's literally just fucking clothes,"

"They're all over the floor Tate! Pick them up! I can't stand the sight of our bedroom right now!"

"I'm going, this is fucking ridiculous."

It's been almost half an hour, and your anger has fizzled down to a slight pang in your chest. You spent most of the time glancing over at the door, seeing if he'd appear, with the same puppy dog eyes he always gave you when he was sorry, and he wanted your forgiveness.

You try and stifle the smile that threatened to spread across your face when Tate finally appears in the doorframe, looking down at his shoes, kicking at the floorboards, his shoelaces untied.

He doesn't move until you let out a sigh, and pat the bed beside you, motioning for him to lay down next to you. His eyes lock with yours, and you can see how glassy they are. Your heart hurts seeing him so upset.

"C'mere baby," you coo, as he finally shuffles over to the bed, laying down on his side beside you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. He breathes in your comforting scent, as you lay your hand in his soft blonde curls, combing through them.

“What’s wrong?” You ask softly, as he kicks off his shoes, leaving his feet in mismatched socks.

“I feel bad,” he says quietly, not daring to look at you as he sniffles into your neck.

“You just have to be tidy Tate, that’s all.” you offer the solution, but Tate continues to sulk. He’s never been able to handle your arguments well.

“I don’t like when you’re mad at me,” he grumbles, his arm wrapping around your chest, his hand resting on your opposite shoulder.

“I’m not mad anymore,” you reassure him, tilting your head to kiss his hair.

“Yes you are, I can tell,” you feel the rough fabric of his jeans from around his crotch rub against your bare thigh, “I’m sorry, mommy.”

“It’s okay baby,” you breathe out, his leg resting atop yours to get a better angle of your thigh. With his face still set in the crook of your neck, you notice his breathing picking up pace, as he begins to rock harder into your thigh.

“Is something else wrong?” You ask him, lifting his head so you could see his face. His pupils had drowned out his dark irises, his face blotchy from crying, his lips red and swollen. He looked so defeated, but the bulge building friction against your leg said otherwise.

He just lets out a soft whimper, his hand on your shoulder coming around to creep under your oversized shirt, cupping and kneading at one of your bare breasts.

“Use your words Tate,” you say more firmly, his eyes glued to your parted lips, as he lets out a small cough.

“Yeah,” he answers finally, his lips attaching to your jaw, leaving wet opened mouth kisses. Your eyes close momentarily as you let Tate use you to stimulate himself, his erection only growing bigger with every brush against your thigh.

“Take these off baby,” you reach down to unbutton his jeans, unzipping them and helping him pull them down his legs. Now only in a soft sweater, his boxers and socks, Tate lets out more whiny moans, now only a millimetre of fabric separating his sensitive, leaking cock from your smooth bare skin.

“Momma?” He asks, his lips by your ear as he whispers into it.

“Hm?” You ask him, letting out a soft sigh as he sucks on your earlobe, his fingers pinching around your hard nipple.

“Can I.. go inside? Just a little, I just wanna- I wanna feel you,” he says, blush rising onto his cheeks.

You smile at him, cupping his cheek with your hand and kissing his soft lips. He groans softly into the kiss, as your hand comes down between you to palm him through his boxers. He’s quick to prod at your mouth with his tongue. You open your mouth wider to allow his tongue to fight with yours, your kisses soppy and ringing in your ears.

You pull away, biting your lip as your thumb strokes his defined cheek bone. He looks into your eyes hopeful, and so fucking needy, trying not to furrow his eyebrows from the pleasure your hand is giving him below.

“Okay baby,” you reply, the smile on his face making your decision so much more worth it.

You pull down at his waistband, his erection finally springing free from the confines of his boxers, swollen and seeping pre-cum. The sight alone almost made your drool, before you pull down your own underwear, lifting your shirt so it’s balled around your ribcage.

You turn to your side, your bare ass now up and rubbing against Tate’s throbbing cock, begging to enter you.

“Now mommy?” He asks politely, holding his cock in his hand and stroking it softly. Your hand comes around between your bodies and takes over his, guiding it towards your entrance.

“Just a l-little- please,” Tate begs, as his tip enters between your pulsing folds, your other hand coming down to rub at your clit.

“Ohh fuck mommy,” Tate groans, as he pushes himself further inside you, stretching you out deliciously with his length.

“That’s it baby, you stay there okay?” You tell Tate, as he bottoms out inside you, his toned stomach pressed against your back.

“Feels so good, my god,” Tate whines, kissing your shoulder through your shirt, his fingers digging into the fabric.

Tate can’t help but move his hips, thrusting slowly and only a little bit in and out as small moans leave his lips. You grab his hands, bringing them around to your breasts again for him to knead.

“I’m in heaven,” Tate mumbles, “see I’m so sorry mommy, you make me feel so good, I promise I’ll be tidy.”

“Good baby,” you say, receiving a small kiss on the cheek by Tate, “Mommy’s gonna make herself cum on your cock okay?”

“Okay, please,” Tate replies, as you begin to bounce back against him slowly, feeling his fingers on your bare breast, and your own fingers circling your clit.

His needy whimpers in your ear as you contract around him and his cock twitching inside you drives you crazy, soft moans leaving your own lips as it’s your turn to use Tate for your own pleasure.

It doesn’t take you long to cum. When you did, Tate sucked on the skin of your neck, and suddenly his pace quickened inside you.

“Oh my god- Tate!” You moan, his whimpering turning to grunts as he too finishes, inside you, and refuses to leave once he’s done.

“Feels s’good mommy,” he nuzzles his head back in your neck, wrapping his arms around you, “I never wanna leave.”