#like yeah i suppose i can’t really see what’s on even the bottommost shelf of a ceiling cabinet
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i find how in fics i’ve read recently, writers (who clearly are normal-to-tall height) write in short characters’ povs sooo interesting. interestingly it’s mostly with peridot (rather than steven or amethyst) where shortness is a fixation. they’re constantly reminded of their shortness and “curse this tall world and tall people!!” when in reality short people don’t always think about being short because that’s just how they live.
#the reason i’m only calling out fics and not published works#is because published works just don’t have short people povs at all LOLLLL#well i mean there probably are if i look for them#but i’m no literary nut so i’ve found none#anyways in fics it’s clear the writing is in the perspective of a tall person#bc it makes me think of a video i saw that was like ‘this is the pov of a short person’#and for the first time i actually saw a video pov that looked normal to me#i just accepted that people filmed videos up high because that’s what i’m used to#and people in the comments were freaaaaking out#and it’s only then that i see how inconvenient being short is#like yeah i suppose i can’t really see what’s on even the bottommost shelf of a ceiling cabinet#and forget any shelves higher than that#but that’s just how cabinets are! they’re not like that because i’m short they’re just like that because /theyre/ tall#to put it more concisely the framing is less ‘i’m short’ and more ‘things are just tall’#and in the times where i have to say get a stool#i’m not thinking about how annoying it is that i need it#or at least direct that anger towards my own height#it’s the objects fault /obviously/#that doesn’t mean friends won’t make fun of me endlessly for being short though LOL#oh and when it ACTUALLY becomes an obstacle…#then yes it’s actually really annoying (rock climbing :/)#but hey i’m happy that being short is written at all if that makes sense??#like amen for su having an abnormally large cast of small characters
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I Don’t Hate You - Part 20 FINALE (Jason Todd x Reader)
*sobs
I can’t believe I finished this fucking thing. And I couldn’t be happier of the outcome. I already sent out my thanks in my last post. So without further delay, here’s the finale of I Don’t Hate You <3
also, I’d like to thank @idkmanicantenglish for the song “Half a Man” which really is all about Jason.
WORDS: 13,753 (the most I’ve written in a single day) WARNINGS: EVERYTHING. FLUFF. SMUT. ANGST. VIOLENCE. A WHOLE LOT OF EVERYTHING.
Masterlist
I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST
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This was your story.
Your heart-wrenching, exhausting, shitty, beautiful little story.
A story you’ve told only so much, but when told, it lets you relive the most memorable moments as the words flow right out of you. A story about the last few years that have been more eventful than any other year there was. A story, when given the chance, changed you so much, changed everyone involved.
And it all began and ended in a damned library.
Maybe you’d tell it again someday. Not to some therapist you barely know or a few friends who’d already heard about it from other people. But maybe you can tell it to the person you’ll eventually spend the rest of your life with. To the kids you’ll ultimately have and love. It’s a story about you and a boy named Jason Todd, and how you both changed so much for each other over the course of a few years. Telling it in a way that makes it a happy memory you were glad to live through might change how you thought about it, or how you’ll deal with it after it all ends.
But Jason, your Jason.
You were always going to love him. You were always going to miss him. He will always be the love of your life.
And even with the end so near, you set that aside. Because an end can be the most beautiful when you don’t treat it like one. It can be the best when you treat it like any other day, think about it as if it were to happen again tomorrow. Only then can you fully live through it as a memory you’ll want to relive over and over. When the emotions are genuine and all other thoughts are put aside.
That night, your last night with Jason, it was like the last three years never happened.
It had been so long since you lived through an instant of gaiety and your highest spirits without a single thought of how reality had been so hard on you, so long since you could live without despondency waiting for you outside your door to take you back to where you were supposed to be. It was that night.
The sun had long gone, and not wanting any attention from the outside or the night guards, the library had its lights shut off, door locked from the inside. And once you did, you and Jason, you were transported back to your junior year, your first few weeks at work when it was all bickering fun and laugher.
You sat cross-legged inside the cart, piles of books littered around you in a mess. “This goes to the sciences section.”
“I know. It’s here.”
“No, we moved it all the way to the front. In the new shelves.”
You leaned to the back of the cart, and your neck rested right against Jason’s arm, his nose meeting your hair. “I hate this new arrangement.”
Holding your phone’s flashlight with your one hand and the textbook with the other, you lit up the way as Jason pushed the cart through the long, narrow aisle.
The metal nets under your jeans were starting to imprint on your skin. You’ve been at this for so long, arranging and re-arranging the whole place even when you didn’t need to. And you let it settle. You kept looking up, where you could see his eyes staring at you like you were as beautiful as the moon. When you reached the shelf, you gave it to Jason, who put it right into its place between two old books.
He kept pushing you around, and you loved it especially when your squeals and light screams coming from your churning stomach filled the whole room, when Jason pushed you fast into a long aisle and you’ll feel the rumbling of the cart and the wheel almost falling off. His new strength pushed you farther and faster with so much more ease.
Standing at the far-off end at the main aisle, which faced the longest clear distance all the way to the other side of the room, Jason placed a light kiss on the tip of your forehead. “Hold on.”
“Go!”
You grabbed onto the bars with your sweaty fists, looked straight forward, then you felt the cool, magnificent rush of cold air blowing into your face, your hair, the clothes on your back. Jason laughed along with you as you howled, then you held your arms up, eyes closed. “WOOOOO!”
He stopped just before you hit the wall. Then he walked over to you. “You could have fallen over!”
“That was amazing!” Your outstretched arms started reaching for his neck, standing on your knees in the cart. You were closer to his height now, which made it easier to kiss him. He held your waist and practically stuck his tongue down your throat. “Mmm!” you giggled, and he bit your lip before pulling away.
He walked to the back of the cart then turned it around, without warning, then started pushing you back into that direction. “Again!”
Jason screamed into your ear to match your voice, then pushed you all the way back. “I’ll fucking run.”
“Do it,” you growled.
Jason bent his knees, and with you closing your eyes, he pushed the cart faster than a car would run. You screamed until your lungs gave out, your head in a flying daze. And you looked out. You could see the wind, the books going past you.
Nothing but laughter. Nothing but bliss.
BAM!
“FUCK!”
The front left wheel of the cart, that one wheel that had been all squeaky and insufferable for the last four years of your life, finally gave out on its tiny life on a string and popped out of its socket. The cart started to drift off, then tumbled down to the floor on its side. You were thrown to the ground with it. “SHIT!”
Jason would have helped you up if he wasn’t already on the floor, clutching his own stomach in uncontrollable laugher. You rubbed the side of your shoulder. “NOT FUCKING FUNNY!”
You were on your knees, growling, and Jason still kept laughing already lying on his back, crouched over to hold onto his aching stomach. You crawled over to him and started grabbing his arms. “Jackass!”
He laughed at your face, and no matter how much strength you had you couldn’t pull his arms away, so you threw yourself on top of him, crossed over so your back hit his stomach. “FUCK, your heavy.”
“Stop laughing.”
He snickered, then he started reaching for your shoulders, turning you over to face him. You laid on your stomach, splayed out on his side, and you kept laughing even when he’d pulled you into his lips again. Your arms went under his head and he pulled your body so you were laying on top of him. Wrestling, licking, feeling his lips. His course, yet soft lips. You could feel him smile and groan against you.
“Come on. We have to fix this thing.”
“What?”
Jason pecked your lips and stood up, pulling you to stand. You started dusting off your ass from the lint on the ground and he could help but slap it hard. “FUCKing hell, Jay.”
He chuckled. “Come on. You have any tools here?”
“I think Ms. P has something stashed in her desk.”
Jason started pulling the cart back up, balancing it against the table to stand upright. He went around to look for the wheel, and you fiddled around Ms. Peterson’s desk. At the bottommost shelf, you found the tools you needed. “Well, would you look at that?”
“Nice. Come on.”
You settled on the ground. And he held out the wheel to give it to you. “This little fucker’s been biting me in the ass.”
“I know. I remember.”
He took out the screws and a screwdriver. “I think we just have to screw it back in.”
“Go ahead.”
Jay started to work, placing the wheel where it was supposed to be and held out the screw into the hole, turning over the screwdriver. You laid your head on his shoulder.
“It’s the wrong size.”
“She doesn’t have anything else?”
“This is the smallest one,” Jason threw it to the ground. “What do we do?”
“Well,” you nuzzled into his neck. “We can go out to the supply closet and get more tools.”
“And the guards?”
You smiled. “We’ll have to be really, really quiet.”
Jason pulled your chin and kissed you. “You mean you have to be quiet. I do this for a living.”
You pinched his cheek, then stood up and walked over to unlock the library doors. You peered outside.
“No one’s out.”
“Just be quiet.”
You got out, closed the door behind you, then Jason held your hand as you led the way. “Man, I miss this place.”
You swore you saw the him from three years ago when you looked back, in the school halls holding your hand. “Y/N!”
“What?”
He suddenly pulled you into a corner, and when you looked out, you saw the security guard sitting right by the backdoor to the field. “Shit.”
“It’s over this way. Come on. Just be careful.”
You tiptoed out until you found the place. The supply closet. The same one you hid from Ms. Peterson from that one time. When you went inside, Jason grabbed your face and started kissing you. You held onto his arms, squeezed, then giggled when he pulled away. “We should have made out here more often.”
“I know,” he winked. “Looks cozy.”
Then he pushed you against the wall, you grabbing his hair. And you stayed there kissing probably for half an hour, completely ignoring the fact that someone could have possibly walked in. “Jay,” you smiled. “The screws.”
“Oh yeah.”
He got the tools he needed, then with him leading the way, you made sure to walk past the snoring guard with you walking on your toes. You almost slipped, but Jason kept you up, putting his finger on his mouth.
Then you rushed back inside the library, fixed the wheel on the cart. When he finished, he basically pushed you on the ground and started attacking your face with his lips.
Oh god, you’ve never been so happy.
“Let’s put these all back.”
You placed the books back in the cart, one by one. “What time is it?”
11 pm. You shrugged. “We have the whole night.”
Jason finished placing the books back into the cart, then you held onto the front of the bars as he maneuvered around, placing them onto the shelves.
“Look. Braille books. A lot of them.”
“Yeah, it goes all the way up there, remember?”
You followed him walking over to the place bringing the cart, looking up. He could have reached it by himself now, especially since he was practically as tall as the fucking shelves.
“Get on my back.”
“The fuck you wanna do now, Todd?”
“Just put your legs on my shoulders.”
He crouched over, and while you laughed it off, struggling to swing your legs over when he was so big, you held onto his head as he stood up with ease. “Can you reach it now?”
“Unnecessarily so.”
He gave you the books one by one, and you could reach the top most shelf that was almost to the ceiling. You could touch it with your finger. His grip on your legs was so strong that you couldn’t have fallen over even if you weren’t careful. You placed the books, laughing the whole time, then Jason leaned back down you could get off of him.
“Why didn’t we do that before?”
“You wouldn’t have let me.”
“I would have.”
“You remember almost biting my arms off just by carrying you up?”
He pulled you by the waist, and you turned him around so you could push him against the shelf. “I remember what this aisle was for…”
“Oh,” he winked. “Why don’t we serve its purpose?”
You tangled your fingers into his hair, and his on your waist, then you kissed him so breathlessly hard that you would’ve fallen over just by his strength pushing you back.
Yes. You had him back. Even for just a moment. There wasn’t a trace of cold blood in him. All you felt was the warmth of the soft-hearted, selfless boy you loved. You were grinning the whole time you kissed, then Jason flipped you over so you were against the books.
His lips, even when slow, pressed against you with so much desire, his breaths, his teeth biting into your mouth, you held onto the shelf to keep yourself up.
This was your story. This was the ending you never thought you’d have. Kissing, having him for yourself, never will anything be so perfect as the way he held you, grabbing your legs so they’d wrap around his hips.
You’re always going to love him, for as long as you were sane and capable of love. Nothing, no one can replace Jason Todd in your heart.
He placed you on the table, and with your giggles not so easily concealed, you rocked about on the surface, kissing you so sweet and soft. Jason held your face and started kissing every inch of your face. You smiled.
“Not here, you idiot.”
He scoffed. “I know.”
But he kept going anyway.
You will never, ever, going to forget how strong he was when he holds you, how gentle his lips could be when he holds back from practically devouring your face. How his hunger mixed with his selfless sweetness, how he was so beautiful, the most human person you’ve ever come to know.
He pulled your waist up and ran his hands all over you. You did the same. And it was all without a thought of how things were going to be when you wake up the next morning. You lived in it, pretended it was going to go on forever. And you wanted it to. So desperately.
“I love you,” he said into your ear.
Then you pulled him into your arms, felt his chest squeezed against yours, then you inhaled into his neck. “I love you.”
He kissed you again, a lot slower this time, and his hands started trailing up your body.
Something was out the door.
Voices. More than one.
“Fuck.” Jason got off you and you stood up from the table. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”
“Hide!”
Two night guards unlocked the library door.
“No one breaks into a library, Jeff.”
“Well, I fucking heard something just now.”
“Check the shelves.”
You held tightly onto Jason’s hand. You weren’t nervous. But you definitely didn’t want to get reprimanded by these two and lose your job. You and Jason hid beneath Ms. Peterson’s desk, and you swore you heard one of them peer in from the other side.
“You think this place haunted?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Well, I don’t see nothin’”
You looked over at Jason, then bit your lips back from laughing. He was barely able to fit under the desk, and you took note of just how adorable he looked making himself as compact as you could. He squinted at you and you silently snickered.
The voices got lower. They must have been all the way over the farthest shelves. You slowly crawled out, peeked over the table.
“Nothin’,” you heard one of the voices say. He was out of sight.
You motioned for Jason to get out. He crawled into the floor, held your hand, then surveyed the room for the quickest way out the door.
“Ey look, Jeff. Old magazines.”
“You think they got porn in there?”
On your toes, you and Jason walked out of there without a single sound.
You bit back your smile, and even with the moment so quick, you took one last look at the library, smiling. “Come on.”
You started racing out the door, out into the warm, summer night. It wasn’t so late, and you barely felt tired at all. Jason walked you out into the driveway.
When you got to your car, opening the door for you, you pulled Jason back into your arms, hands on his waist, then kissed him.
Even when he got into the car, you continued to kiss him. Even when he drove. Even when you felt your lips numb. You kept kissing his cheek and neck and basically everywhere you could, never mind how it could’ve possible ended badly. Jason drove around the city, taking a lot longer than he should. And you loved it.
It couldn’t end. Not yet. You still didn’t want it to.
But even after hours and hours on end, driving around without a destination and singing in the car, windows open for the world to hear, it ultimately had to. You went around the empty Gotham streets, basked in the silence like it was made specially for you. You sang all the songs in your playlist and Jason never hesitated to sing along with you, no matter how much his voice was drowned out by yours.
But in the end, when you saw the time on the car’s dashboard, when you felt the world tapping onto your shoulder, telling you that time was up, you couldn’t believe it.
And when you did,
The whole world sank with your heart.
Jason felt the same. He looked out the windshield, eyes drooped down and his breaths long and uneasy.
You felt it. The end. This was how it ends.
Your story with Jason.
He got out of the car, then you waited so he could open your door for you. He moved so slow, and so did you. Time had to stop. For you.
When he closed it behind you, taking your hand as he took you to your apartment, you felt his hold tighten, fingers rubbing into your skin.
You leaned close to him and placed your head on his shoulder.
Too soon. It was all moving too fast.
He turned to face you, holding your face.
Without even your knowing, a tear had fallen down your cheek.
And he wiped it away with his thumb, forcing himself to smile despite the inevitable staring at him in the face. Your chest was being hallowed out, by a shovel ruthlessly going at it with every bit of your raging thoughts, though silent, it was tearing you part by part.
You didn’t speak. You didn’t know what to say. You didn’t want to say goodbye. For good this time. And you didn’t want all this to stay behind as a memory. Jason placed his forehead tight against yours.
And you breathed him in. You took him in. You felt his eyelashes tickle your lids, felt his hands hold yours and step so close to you, you could feel his heartbeat.
And it finally came. The end.
He kissed you on the lips, so soft, softer than he ever kissed you before. You took note of how his lips felt, how his body was leaning towards you like it wanted you even more.
You heard soft, singing melodies somewhere in the air. And the whole world did stop for you this time. You couldn’t hear a sound. No one was around. And if there were you could have sworn they had frozen in place. You pulled him closer. You never loved him so much as you did at that moment.
And you wanted him. So bad.
No. This wasn’t the end. Not yet.
If this was goodbye, you were going to do it right.
You felt his lips get rougher, hungrier, and yours were, too. His hands held your face so tightly that you swore you’d break in his hold.
You wanted this.
You pulled away, and Jason knew what for.
You held his hand, never leaving his eyes.
And he followed you up the steps.
You unlocked the door with your free hand, taking him to your home. He shut the door behind him, trailing behind you down the hall, to the living room, and eventually up to your room.
You turned on one, dim light, and even then you could barely see much around you. Jason held your hand as you closed the door.
Silence. Deep, comfortable silence.
Jason held your face and pushed you against the wall.
Just once. Just one time. You wanted this so bad. Even if it wouldn’t last, you wanted it just once. And you’ll be able to tell yourself that you can move on without any more regrets. You had him for just one more night. And he’ll be gone in the morning. You wanted the most out of it. You wanted to feel every part of him, know that this was how it was going to end. And there was nothing else holding you back. Not even if you’d let it.
It didn’t take long for it to feel hot, heavier, and when you felt his weight against you, pushing you so tightly against the wall, that you were barely able to move. Your arms on his neck, he pulled you up, let your legs wrap around him, then he left his love all over your skin, marks and bruises by his teeth, all over your neck, jaw, and the top of your chest. He was so strong, so effortlessly pulling you up, you squeezed his bicep.
Then he moved you over to your desk, his arm swiftly swiping all your stuff from the surface so he could place you on top.
Yes.
He took his sweet time. You weren’t going to rush this. No. You wanted him all the way until morning. You weren’t going to let a single second pass where you weren’t conscious enough to feel him, see him. You started pulling at his shirt, but he got so distracted by your neck, sucking into your flesh so painfully good that you gasped. You were leaning back, since he was pushing you with his weight, back almost hitting the surface, but you kept yourself sitting up.
More. Harder.
You pulled on his hair, pulling so tightly to ease yourself from the pain of his teeth, then he winced away, going back to kiss your lips. you sat straight up, pulling up the hem of his shirt.
And when he pulled on the back, practically ripping it off his body, you moaned as if he were already fucking you.
“Fuck…”
He held your hands, let your palms feel every inch of his gorgeous chest.
Fuck.
He was so much bigger, as if it wasn’t already obvious with his clothes on. But without them, he looked like he was fucking photoshopped.
Rock-hard muscle, on his pecs, his stomach… God, his stomach. You wanted your tongue all over his eight-pack. Not even porn had this kind of beauty. And he kept watching you, how your face reacted at the sight of him. And if he could see it, he’d say your jaw was definitely flat on the floor. His abdomen, his sides, his abs… everything was as hard as a fucking wall. You started placing your lips on them.
Scars. Beautiful, sexy scars, all over his skin. The largest one was a deep, Y shaped one in the middle of his chest.
From his autopsy.
And when he saw you kiss over them, he started to pull away.
And you held his hand, placed kisses on his lips, silently reassuring him that he was undeniably beautiful, just as he would in anyone’s eyes. When he softened up, you went back to kissing his pecs, his abs, every surface of his skin.
Then he groaned when your tongue lapped up the middle of his chest, all the way down his abdomen.
He looked like he was going to pounce at you like a panther now.
Jason grabbed your face, held you up so he could bite into your lips, causing you with so much pleasurable pain until you could feel your lips start to bleed.
He pulled your shirt up, his hands not wasting another minute without squeezing every part of your skin. He kneaded your breasts, kissed over your chest and setting your bra down so he could taste your nipples. You leaned back, weight on your hands, then moaned when he started kissing down your stomach.
Jason undid your jeans and ripped them off your legs, taking off your panties along with them. You gasped at the exposure. You hadn’t had sex in… well, you didn’t like to think about it. So you were horribly wet, drenching your table even when he hadn’t even touched you there yet. “Fuck…”
“Shh,” he whispered.
You started gripping on his hair, tugging, an outlet for when he started biting into the thin skin on your inner thighs. And he blew into your soaked pussy, warm air grazing your clit. “Oh!”
He kept at it, leaving marks all over where he could touch except your cunt. And you wanted him there so bad. You wanted his tongue all over your inside, feel him wander around so intimately and hit that spot only he could touch. You pulled on him again and didn’t stop until he was kissing your pussy.
“Fuck, look how wet you are…”
And before he did that, he suddenly grabbed your hips and flipped you around.
Your feet now on the ground, you bent over, your wetness now dripping down your legs. You felt his hand on your back, lightly pushing you down, then you placed your weight on your elbows, forehead touching the table’s surface. Jason got on his knees, then without a warning, lapped over your throbbing cunt with his long tongue. You moaned.
He started spreading your legs. You wanted him to use his fingers, too, but that was to say his tongue wasn’t already enough to send you quaking. You held onto the sides of the table, ass pushed out and his hands grabbing onto your hips. His grip was tight, and the way his fingers were sinking into your flesh, how it went so well with how his tongue inserted itself into your hole, you gasped out his name along with other, wordless cries. He went down your clit, slowly ran his wet tongue all over it in circles and different directions. You were shaking, and the wonderfully delicious buzzing down your legs was almost too much. You pushed yourself further back.
Jason held your stomach, and you threw your head back, breathing so heavy and broken. His tongue kept at it with your clit, then back into your hole, then you squealed when he momentarily went over your asshole before licking your folds again. Fuck.
“Jay…” you cried, then a sharp slap on your ass jolted up your spine. His tongue quickened all over you. and you felt it creep up to you like an animalistic predator. The tensing of your muscles, your arms starting to give out along with your legs. Your mouth formed an ‘O’ and you screamed his name as your first, powerful orgasm washed over you. It was crushing, your every limb trembling at the slightest touch. You felt your skin burn through your cries and your head in a wonderful spiral.
Jason led you through it, made sure he was holding you tight before you’ll fall to the floor, and your cries, you let it bounce through the walls, his name so wonderfully screamed out, it was beautiful.
He let his hand reach down your pussy, massaging the outside to calm you. And before your high had subsided, you turned around, pulled him close in your arms.
You led him to your bed, pushed him down, with your one hand. Then you took your bra off, throwing it across the room. Jason leaned in towards you drooling at the sight of your tits. And you let him have what he wanted before pulling him away.
Your hands on his crotch, you felt his bulge.
Fuck.
He couldn’t possibly…
You felt more of him, rubbing over his length that seemed to go on and on…
Yes…
You pulled away from him so you could take his pants off, along with his boxers, he groaned when his dick shot up and hit his stomach.
Fuck, your pussy already started to hurt just at the sight of that-
“Jay, how-“
“The pit,” he winked at you. “Made a lot of things bigger.”
You kneeled down in front of him, taking him in your hand and drooling over the sight of him. He was so fucking huge now. It could barely fit in your hand.
And for the love of god, his fucking thighs.
“Y/N…”
“I want you in my mouth,” you demanded.
You pushed him to lay on his back, then he inched himself further up so you could kneel on the bed, crouch over so you could lick all way up from his balls to the tip of his cock.
Jason threw his head against the mattress, gripping his own hair and his hand trailing up his chest.
You took his tip in, swirling your tongue all over him. You felt him twitch and that’s when you held the bottom half with your hand. You went back and forth, mouth hallowed out as he hit the back of your throat while you pumped the rest of him with your wet palms. Your other hand kept holding onto his thigh, nail sinking in to his flesh.
“Fuck,” he groaned. Then you released his cock with a pop in your mouth, before going at it again. Your tongue went crazy over his hard, sensitive tip, licking the underside the way he liked it. After all those years you still memorized his body, no matter how much it changed. You kept going, pulling out to spit at him, then tried with all your might to sink him down all the way past your throat, blocking your airways and letting you gag repeatedly. He held your head down, then when you pulled away, mouth drenched in your drool mixed with pre-cum, you gasped for air and swallowed.
“Y/N,” he pulled on your hair, then you sucked on his tip again, opening your mouth wide until your jaw started to hurt, then you pulled your head back and forth, over and over until he started to tense, twitch. Not long after, Jason came inside your mouth.
Your hand kept pumping, and your tongue was held out to catch his seed. He kept going, moaning and squirming on the bed. You swallowed everything you could and kissed the tip.
“Come here,” he growled, just when you thought he might have passed out. He aggressively held your body up so your chest was pressing flat against him. You held his face, kissed him and letting your juices and his cum mix in your mouths, you both moaned.
You started leaning back, and just when you thought you’d grind on his cock,
You grinded on his thigh.
And fucking hell, the muscles, the ripples, how it tore through you in a sensation you never felt before. Your already quaking pussy was sensitive to touch, but now it was a wonder, mind-blowingly pleasurable experience that just couldn’t get you to stop. His tongue slightly seeping out his lips, he took in the sight of you.
“Fuck, you're hot.”
You ignored him and threw your head back. You gripped on your own tits, focused on the friction. His thighs were so large you still had to spread your legs wide. You kept going, going and going.
Then, without you even expecting it, another powerful orgasm ripped through you. You held onto Jason’s chest, and him growing hard again just watching you use his thighs to pleasure yourself. You were shaking, screaming into the air, then Jason didn’t waste a minute before grabbed you by the waist, suddenly flipping you over so your back was against his chest. You were lying on top of him, and on your ass, you felt his hardening cock.
You threw your head back onto his shoulder. Your bodies felt one again. Just like it used to. And with his breath against your ear, you cried at the stings on your skin when his warm fingers traced all over your body. he touched you, all of you. And all you could do was lie on your back, feel his lips on your cheek, feel his chest on your ass while he squeezed your tits so hard you screamed.
Then his other hand went down, to your over-stimulated pussy. He whispered into your ear. Your name. his thoughts. Everything he wanted to do to you. and your eyes went over the back of your head when his fingers inserted inside you, moving around your walls. He squeezed your other breast tighter to go along with it, and when it was so hard, you started to cum again, you held it back.
“Yes! Yes! Yes!” you screamed, and he bit onto your ear. You spread your legs wide in the air and let his middle and ring finger pound into you so hard and fast. You heard wet, slapping noises, and the way his long fingers went inside you, ticking your clit with his palm, Jason kept massaging your upper body so gently, immensely contrasting his roughness on your cunt.
“Fuuuuck!!!” you screamed, and your legs were shaking when you came for the third time that night. Each one a different sensation than the other. This one came fast, one strong, powerful surge that went with the pain of his hand so ruthlessly bruising you up. You had to reach down, hold his wrist from going any further just because you couldn’t take it anymore. “Jay -“
“Shh.”
Fuck. The way he shushed you, sent all the nerves in a spiral all over again.
You turned around, and he flipped you over on your back, hovering on top of you. “What do you want me to do?”
You gasped when his cock went over your folds. “Fuck me…”
“Mmm,” he hummed into your ear, kissing your cheek, your neck, then he was back on your lips. He took the time to do that, making sure you were ready for him.
“Please… oh!”
His cock, so large, tore through you so slowly, making sure you felt every bit of him stretch you out to your full capacity. And even when he wasn’t fully inside, he stopped. You were so tight around him you could feel it. You couldn’t even clench. But even with the pain so immense, you pushed on his back to make him go forward.
He sat back so he could look at all of you. nipples hard in the air, back arched so much that it went with the curve of his cock. Your skin was red and flushed, and every touch on you seemed to make your spine jolt. You held yourself up with your elbows, looking at him with that hooded glare that sent his lustful demons rising.
He held your waist, watching his dick go further and further inside you. You screamed so loud at the pain, even when he was so careful with it. But you loved it. Every part of it. Jason dicked you down balls deep, and stayed there while watching your body thrash about.
“Jason, fuck me, please…”
He held your waist, pull you up so the top of your head was the only thing touching the mattress, then started pulling your body back and forth.
Fuck. Your walls, how you adjusted so roughly around him it made you hiss, yet after so many of his long, hard strokes, it built up that wonderful, rhythmic, deep electricity sparked back that one spot he was so expertly thrusting into.
It was slow at first, but when you started gripping onto his arm, he took it as a pass to suddenly snap his hips up to you and bruise your ass. “FUCK!”
Jason kept at it, then you held his neck, squeezing it to ease the over-whelming shocks, and he rocked your body back and forth, letting you back arch so much. Over and over. He wouldn’t stop. And you saw different colored lights flash before your eyes, shutting them close to stop yourself from passing out. The feel of his cock, and the buzz it went with…
It wasn’t even about the orgasm. You were one with him. You always had been.
You didn’t care if you came. For how many times that night. You focused on him. On his love. His touch. His beautiful, lustful love that was as endless as it seemed.
He was yours. Not just for that night.
Jason will always be yours.
Always.
And that was how you wanted your story with him to end.
----
Soft.
Sultry.
It was an otherwise beautiful morning.
Every minute, you could feel it pass.
So slowly, like silent, steady drum beating.
You didn’t let yourself fall asleep. All night, you were in his arms. You let the night pass without your conscious mind missing a second of it. He didn’t sleep either.
And when the sun had come, telling you both that it was time,
That was when he let it dawn over him.
This was goodbye.
Time was ticking. Staying longer would only make things so much more difficult.
He kissed your shoulder, and even when his arms wouldn’t have let you, you pulled back. The way you looked at him, the hurt he could just see, he wanted to beat himself up over it. He wished this wasn’t how it was supposed to be.
But the longer he looked into you, he made sure to memorize each and every detail of your face.
You closed your eyes, and he wiped the tear that seeped through them.
Jason, with all his strength that was already so immense, struggled, but forced himself to let you go.
And you stayed on the bed, eyes on the sheets. He didn’t want you to watch him leave. You turned over your back.
And it made it easier for him to put his clothes back on. As slowly as he could. Fuck, every movement hurt.
When he pulled his shirt over his head, he sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall.
You had put on your shirt and panties as well, also sitting at the other side of the bed.
He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. Not anything that was only going to hurt more.
But by god, he was thankful he came back. At least now, for you and him both, you said your goodbyes the best way he could. He’ll no longer have any regrets. He’ll no longer wish he did things differently when obviously he should’ve from the start.
Jason stood from the bed, slowly walked over to the door.
You probably didn’t want to voice out your goodbyes. You were still on the bed, clutching on the sheets. And when you caught his eye, you looked away.
Jason could have run back to your arms, tell you he was wrong, that he wasn’t going away, then you’ll go back to make love all day just as you would for the rest of your days.
That was always going to be the fantasy of what he could have done. Maybe even what he should have done.
But he didn’t.
He opened the door, slowly walked out of it and closed it behind him.
Jason was just about to walk out of your front door when he heard your voice. “Wait!”
He looked back.
You raced to him, and you were holding something in your hand. A book.
Edgar Allan Poe’s Complete Collection of Stories
“You have it back,” you sniffed. “Please.”
Jason looked at your hands, mouth open, then he felt a tear on his eyes blur out his image of you, looking at him like he was just the whole world. He shook his head.
“Keep it.”
You bit your lips, then looked down at your feet. You set it on the table aside and wiped a tear from your face.
“Goodby-“
He pulled you to his chest, so tightly and suddenly, you gasped when your mouth met his shoulder. Then he felt your tear wet his shirt. He pulled you even closer, face into your hair. His own tear had fallen, and he let the feel of you loosen the tightening in his chest.
You pulled him just as tight. Just as close.
He didn’t know for how long, but you were in his arms for so long. It might have been just a minute. Or even an hour.
But he knew, the moment he walked out the door, that he made the greatest mistake of his life.
.
The sobs fell when Jason walked out. Your heart on the floor. Your whole body on the floor. Your back hit the door and you sobbed into your knees.
.
How many times has he left you? How many times does he have to screw you over for him to know you didn’t deserve any of this? Jason tried walking down the steps, but his legs felt weak. He sat on the steps and didn’t care if people around him saw him cry.
.
You tugged at your chest. Even though it hurt. Even when it was inevitable, you thanked the world. For giving you just a few more days with him. You thanked the cosmos from bringing him back. Even when it wasn’t meant to last.
.
As much as he wanted to hate everything, lash out on anything he could get his hands on, he didn’t. In fact, he knew those last days with you, those beautiful last days, will go on until the end of his life.
.
You once heard. If someone was really meant for you, you will end up together. If that someone was Jason, you’ll have to embrace that new side of you that let the world take control. You sat back, hoping it would eventually change. Even when it seems impossible.
.
Jason walked home.
.
You went back to your room.
.
He fell to his bed.
.
You tried to go to sleep.
.
But he couldn’t. Not for the next days.
.
You loved him even more than you ever had.
.
This couldn’t possibly be the end.
.
Why didn’t it feel like an end?
.
He wished you’ll be okay.
.
You hoped for the best.
.
‘Goodbye, Y/N.’
.
‘Goodbye, Jason.’
-----
-----
1 MONTH
He had the money. He could manage this.
But not working for this long was eventually going to take a toll on him.
Okay. He shouldn’t call it work. Even when it technically was. He was earning money through all those drug rings he’d held hostage and now that he’d been stuck in his home for the last month, he didn’t even know what his goons were up to.
Jason woke up two hours past noon that day, just like he always had. Slowly, he swung his legs over the bed and blinked away the crust in his eyes. He stretched, feeling the warm morning sun in his skin. Then he walked over to the kitchen to make himself some toast.
It had been a month.
And still, he barely wanted to do anything.
No, it wasn’t like the first time you broke up. When his ass starved himself in bed, tore everything around in his room and let his anger take over all his sanity to the point where he left his room destroyed, his bed constantly soaked in his tears, his cries of anger, his eventual plunge into darkness. No, it wasn’t that anymore.
Because he wasn’t angry anymore.
Not at you. not at himself. How could he? He was the one who wanted this. He beat himself up over that so much that at this point he’d grown tired. Now, he was tired. So tired.
His toast popped up the toaster and he grabbed it, took a large bite out of it without anything else.
He got home, calm and silent. And every day that had passed, he never threw anything against the wall, he never starved himself, punished himself by constantly staring at your photos and remembering all your moments he was never going to relive.
He didn’t do anything to hurt himself anymore.
But it didn’t mean he wasn’t just as hurt.
He cries at night. Often all the time. Until eventually his eyes grow tired and he was left asleep in his own tears. Jason let himself remember you, but no longer with any other feeling than greatness, appreciation, sweet, serene thoughts when he looked back.
Of course, it wasn’t without tears. All the time. There were tears.
He sat on his couch, leaned back, and let himself delve into the loneliness that was reality.
He really fucking missed you.
He still, with all his heart, loved you.
You never once called, and he never once reached out. He stayed true to his promise. He felt the pain he’d already expected. Jason wasn’t angry because all this was his choice, for your own good. He stayed on that couch for the rest of the day.
He didn’t fight off his thoughts anymore. Every image of you, he let it play in his head. He didn’t let the emptiness take over like last time. He didn’t pretend he wasn’t hurt. He didn’t pretend that each day went on and he had no control over it. He let each day pass, welcomed it with open arms. He felt every inch of that pain pass through every inch of him. All this, it was happening.
You. He had no idea what you were doing. He could only hope you were doing okay. Not like him.
That night, he went out, hoodie over his head.
And he went over to a bar. Alone. He ordered a drink. He went through the glass before anyone could bat an eye. He ordered another.
A girl took a seat next to him, and he let himself take his attention to her. She smiled at him, then she started talking. He didn’t exactly listen to what she said. He just kept nodding and smiling when he could.
He let her take him to her apartment, and he pushed her against the wall. What was her name again?
He grabbed her thigh, let her bite his neck. He fucked her in her bed, her screaming his name and kissing him all night. He just let everything happen. He pushed all thoughts aside. Or at least, this was what he did to try. He came and stopped right after.
Jason waited for her to fall asleep. And when she did, he grabbed his clothes and walked out of her apartment without so much as a text.
When he got back to his place, taking another drink from his stash and taking it to bed with him, he laid his head against the wall.
Nothing. Nothing changed.
He could have thrown that bottle across the room, let it break and not clean it up until the next few days. But instead, he just let a tear down his cheek.
You were still there. In his head.
Jason looked at the duffel bag in the corner, where his helmet and jacket had been sitting lifelessly for the past month.
That night, Red Hood stopped five muggers and two rapists from all over crime alley.
-----
2 MONTHS
‘I call out into the open,
Hoping for some reason,
That whatever there is, and always will be,
Was for the better
That all this sacrifice.
Wasn’t for no reason.
That you were right, in fact,
And eventually…
I’ll see why you no longer wanted me…’
.
You scratched out those last two words. It didn’t feel right. He still wanted you. You don’t know how he was feeling right now, but you were sure he still loved you at the end.
You hated how writing songs just felt so much easier when you were depressed. Maybe because you needed to feel strong emotions that had to take over you and drive you into that creative spiral. It was messed up, but you let it happen.
The empty music room helped, but you wore your earphones with your piano chords on repeat just to drown out the noises of students outside the door.
.
‘I’ll see why you let go of me…’
.
That’s better.
.
‘I promised you I’m fine.
That all of this was for you.
You are everything I wish to be and
The light that shines through
All the darkness…
No matter how much they try
To get their hands on me…
Even though you’re not here,
I’m always going to be yours…’
.
You took out your earphones, then started playing a tune, breaking the chords apart in that certain melody you had going on in your head. When you got it, you started singing the lyrics you just wrote.
You kept singing, pretending he was standing by the door, watching you play and sing with his heart in his hand, clutched tightly and his face all goofy and red. You stopped for a moment, going back to the last line, then you went on.
Okay. Good. That was good.
.
‘Your dreams of me
I hope they are good to you,
No longer feeding you the pain
That I can feel every time
I think of us. Of what could have been.
I dream of you,
Every night, I do and I let them happen
Even when reality surges
Like a hit to the head
And it hurts so much…
Oh…
But I’ll go through that,
As long as I see you
At night.’
.
You placed your pen down and went to the piano, playing them out. After a while, revising the way the chords played out, you hit record and started from the beginning.
He was there. Smiling. And you closed your eyes pretending that he actually was.
You never realized all the songs you wrote were all about him, especially the ones that got the highest marks.
You even once wrote a song about sex. With him, obviously. And the thought of it made you blush. You were never going to pass that.
When you looked back, at the park, at the carnival, at the library, the ideas just wouldn’t stop flowing through you. It was sadness, but it had that little painful jab of acceptance lodged in your chest. You were no longer in mourning. But you were still hurt, and not a day goes by when you hadn’t thought of reaching out to the other side of your bed, hoping he was there, or even step into the shower and feel his arms around you. Maybe, eventually, you’ll actually move on.
Now just didn’t feel like it.
So, with your everlasting love for a man you couldn’t have, you continued to sing.
When you were done, you placed the headphones on and listened.
And when you listened to your voice, soothing to hear but had that subtle breakage at the ends when the words hit home the most, you felt the lyrics go through you, felt how it was still there, all over your heart. And it just didn’t feel like something you could easily erase.
“I let you go…
I’m letting you go…
I’m letting you go…
But it doesn’t mean
That the sun comes up to greet me,
And not question how
My smiles are no longer real…”
You closed your eyes, and felt little droplets seep out of your eyes, down to your cheek and chin. You sniffed, wiping them off with your sleeve, then you hit stop.
----
4 MONTHS
Red Hood broke into a window of an abandoned apartment building. There were five men around, all with guns in their hands.
“Am I late for the party?”
They started shooting, and he dodged them by a mere inch rolling on the ground. He pulled out his own guns, but he couldn’t have a good enough aim. Red Hood took to hiding behind the crates before he took one, with his bare hands, then threw it at their direction.
That’s when he started shooting. At their shoulders specially to stop them from picking their guns back up with ease. Red Hood took another crate, threw it at a thug’s body, and when he was on the ground, he leapt up into the air.
One of them grabbed him just before he got to the floor, and he was swung to the wall, hitting his back against the hard concrete. “Fuck,” he said.
He opened fire, aiming at their legs before they could run and tackle him to the ground. Red Hood grabbed a man’s head, hit the back of his neck with his elbow, then slammed him against his knee. He hissed for him. “That gotta hurt.”
“Quit talking, Hood.”
He shot that guy’s shoulder before he could say anything more. “But I love talking to you guys!”
Four guys down. He grabbed one of them by the neck, and held him against the wall. “Tell me where the good stuff is, or I blow your brains out.”
“In there! There!” he pointed to a room. “Don’t fuckin’ hurt me!”
He headbutted him and he was instantly knocked out cold on the ground. He followed it with a shot in the head.
Red Hood ran into the same room, where three men, no longer armed, held their hands up to surrender. Their meth lab looked large enough to house children, all right.
“I’m gonna ask nicely-“
“They’re in there!”
He stood back. That was easy.
He went to the closet they pointed at and true enough, three kids held down with ropes around their legs and arms stared back at him in fear. They started to scream, but Red Hood placed his finger up to where his lips were supposed to be and cut their ropes. “Get out of here.”
They all ran out, and Red Hood cracked his neck, holding out his gun at the three masterminds behind the lab. “Alright. Who do I kill first?”
They were on their knees, hands behind their heads as they cried out for their lives.
“Him!”
Red Hood shot the man who spoke up. Right in the head. He fell to the floor and his blood spread out all over the floor. “Next!”
“Please!!”
“Not me! Please!”
“Wrong answer!” Red Hood exclaimed, then he hit the man’s head with the butt of his gun, before shooting him once in the chest.
“Should have thought of that before you kidnapped from the playgrounds, motherfucker.”
The last one, who’d pissed his pants, was looking up at him visibly trembling on his knees. He whispered all the pleas and prayers he knew, and Red Hood, who never submitted to any of that, placed the muzzle to his head.
He looked like a young man. The youngest out of the other two.
And he didn’t look too much like a bad guy.
Still, he could have orchestrated the kidnappings himself. Maybe even done more to those kids than he thought.
Jason clicked his gun.
“Please! I’m begging you.”
This happened often.
When he took too much time thinking about whether to kill or not,
He saw you.
You’d hate to see him this way. And he could hear your voice, telling him to stop. That he didn’t need to do this. He didn’t have to kill him. Not even the other two he just shot right then.
He fucking hated it when this happened.
Batman fucking spoke to him in his sleep and never once did he falter. He never once submitted to Batman’s demands.
But the moment he hears you,
He stopped.
He killed too many today.
Not just today even.
“Consider yourself lucky.”
“Wha-“
He punched him square on the face. And he fell to the ground in a loud, clean thud.
-----
5 MONTHS
“All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside
It's hard, but it's harder to ignore it
If they were right, I'd agree, but it's them they know not me
Now there's a way and I know that I have to go away
I know I have to go…”
Father and Son by Cat Stevens. You loved that song. The guitarist, a blonde guy named Dustin, looked at you and smiled just as you finished the song. The guy with the beat box, someone you didn’t really know, placed it back into the supply shelves.
You hopped off your stool and started to put the microphone stand away.
“Hey,” Dustin said. “Y/N.”
You turned your head to him.
“You have an amazing voice.”
You recall only talking to him once when you met a few days ago. When you were first assigned together for a live performance in school. “Thanks.”
“You play any instruments?”
You started wrapping the mic around with the wires. “Piano mostly. A bit of guitar.”
“I can teach you if you want.”
He was smiling too much at you, and you cleared your throat. If you were in high school you would have already left the room. But you didn’t. You let yourself stay in that room.
He started plucking on the guitar strings.
“You're really good,” you said to him.
“Thanks.”
You smiled, then when you finished cleaning up after yourself, you started for the door.
“Hey!”
You turned to him. Dustin went over to you with a pen in hand, then held out his hand for you to give him your palm.
“What?”
“My number.”
“Oh,” you gulped.
If you were in high school, you would have screamed at him to get out.
But, you didn’t.
You gave your palm to him, then he started writing down his number. “Call me,” he said.
Then he left the room. You didn’t, on the other hand. You were left standing there, wondering what the hell you just did.
You haven’t moved on. Not even the slightest. Jason had your heart for the last three years, even when he wasn’t here. Why would another 5 months be any different? Sure, you weren’t grieving over his death anymore, and the acceptance had sunk in eventually. But go out with another? Open your heart up to new people?
You weren’t sure you were ready. You didn’t exactly enjoy the idea of it.
But it didn’t matter if you were ready. One of these days, you’re going to have to let everything slide, call that cute guitarist and finally give yourself the life Jason always had in mind for you. What he always wanted for you.
You looked at your palm and swallowed.
-----
7 MONTHS
THE GOTHAM TIMES
The Red Hood: Change of Heart?
‘Gotham’s most feared vigilante, the Red Hood, had always been attached to cases of cold-blooded murders, violent massacres, and heartless debacles in almost every crime ring imaginable. Hood, as he is most often referred to, has been more feared than Batman himself, due to his willingness to take lives, which Batman does not do.
However, in the recent months, cases of murders in crime settings the Red Hood was involved in have dramatically dropped. In good days, which have been occurring more often as time goes by, his kill count has been an astonishing ZERO and will only leave bodies unconscious before calling the police. First thought to be the work of Batman, it has been recently confirmed that the last sighting of the Red Hood, no dead bodies were found.’
.
Jason skipped over that article before it went on and on. He hated reading about himself. And the pictures they had of him, he snorted. Even the Gotham Times had amateurs for photographers.
Yeah. Okay. He hadn’t been killing for a while. Mostly because he didn’t exactly feel the need to anymore. Not when it wasn’t absolutely needed. Henchmen could still live. Their bosses, not so much. He’d still take lives if they absolutely deserved it.
He didn’t exactly think that much about it. He wasn’t proud of himself, exactly. Even when he probably should be. But he knew there were more things to worry about than give himself any kind of appraisal.
He kept scrolling down his feed.
He almost choked on his booze when he suddenly came across a picture of you, along with five other people in what looked like a singing gig, in a magazine article from Gotham Today.
He never clicked so fast onto the article.
GOTHAM TODAY
Gotham College of the Arts for Christmas Market
‘The musically gifted students from the graduating class of Gotham College of the Arts will be hosting this year’s Christmas Market live performance. It is also expected that they are booked for the Summer festival as well. The Lineup of these talented seniors include…’
Scroll. Scroll. Scroll.
There. Your name.
‘Y/FN. Singer. Songwriter.’
Beside it was a picture of you.
Jason smiled.
You looked so beautiful, with your teeth showing in your grin, your hair up in a ponytail and your makeup looking absolutely perfect. You were on stage, and you were holding a microphone. You looked straight into the camera. Straight at him.
He clutched at his shirt, right above where his heart was.
He shouldn’t do this.
Fuck it.
He went over to your profile.
You weren’t dating anybody, as far as he knew.
But he saw you posted three covers of different Lana Del Ray songs. He ended up watching all of them three times that night.
Fuck.
Fuck.
It didn’t even hurt him anymore. It had been for months. But now he was just laughing at himself just how much you still got to him.
He stared at your picture.
How are you looking at him now? With all the news reports about how he’d changed? Are you smiling? Were you proud of him? Was he a lot better in your eyes?
The whole point of him maintaining his distance between you was because of what he did. Because you didn’t deserve having a murderer as a boyfriend or a husband. Because of all the enemies he’s made.
Well,
What happens now? Now that that’s changed?
-----
9 MONTHS
You felt really bad for not calling Dustin.
And it already had been four months. You kept seeing him often in rehearsals. And basically every week in jamming sessions.
And, well, you decided, ultimately, that you really, really had to at least put some kind of effort to let Jason go. Nine months had passed and still you hadn’t dated anybody.
So last night, you finally called him.
Dustin picked you up from your apartment, and for that night, you went out to a nice little restaurant that served kebabs.
He was really cute. Not cute as Jason, though. And definitely not as-
Okay. You can't be doing that.
“So I was thinking, for the summer fair in three months, I thought we could do Shallow by Lady Gaga? I think it would fit your voice really well.”
You nodded. “Thanks.”
“And, well, for me, I’ll have to be Bradley Cooper. That’s actually funny ‘cuz just last month I…”
You were staring at your food, picking them off with your fork. You just listened to him talk. On and on. You weren’t exactly sure what to say if he asked you to say anything or open a topic. Maybe you should have went to see a movie. You were bad at this. The only other first date you went to was in the Christmas Market with-
Fucking stop.
“Anyway, I feel bad now. You haven’t exactly said anything in a while. Tell me about you!”
You just blurted out whatever shit came up to mind. And when you grew too uncomfortable to talk, you started picking at your food. It wasn’t that he was difficult to talk to. It was just…
Well, for starters, something had been in his teeth for a while and you were too embarrassed to point anything out.
And when you left the restaurant, he dropped you off to your apartment.
“Uhm,” he cleared his throat. “That was fun.”
“I had fun,” you bit your lips.
“I’ll, uh, call you!”
“Sure.”
Dustin went out the car and opened the door for you. He then walked you to your door, scratching the back of his neck. “I think you look really pretty today.”
You nodded, smiling. “Thank you.”
“Can I kiss you?”
Woa. Okay.
You gulped.
You had to do this.
So, even when you weren’t so sure yourself, you said yes.
And when he leaned in, you closed your eyes.
Nothing.
It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Jason.
You immediately pulled away.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
You backed off, and Dustin never looked so uncomfortable. You wanted to bury yourself deep in the ground and never come back. “I’m sorry.”
“No!” you exclaimed. “Don’t be! I swear.”
“I’ll go now.” He pointed to his car with his thumb. “Have a good night.”
“Good night.”
He left, and you stormed out into your room, stuffing your head into your pillow.
WHY.
WHY.
WHY.
You sobbed all night, thinking about him. Thinking about how it all felt so wrong. It wasn’t Dustin at all. It was you. You couldn’t bring yourself to see any other guy in that light. Not even if you tried. And you really fucking tried.
You never called Dustin back.
-----
11 MONTHS
He’d changed so much.
And it was all because of you.
Almost a year since he saw you. and still, your voice spoke to him when he needed the guidance. Your face stared back when he had to imagine a face that would lead him into the right path. He hadn’t killed in months. He hadn’t done anything he’d otherwise regret.
Batman was no longer on his tail. He was no longer on Batman’s tail.
Now, he actually was proud of himself.
Because after that first time he came across you again after so many months. The same thought crossed his mind everyday since it began.
Is it possible that he deserved happiness now?
Could he finally be good enough to have someone he truly, genuinely loved?
Could he see himself be with his loved once? Surround himself with the wishes of life he never thought he’d have?
Did he change enough for you to actually be enough to have you for his own?
Will you take him back?
Because after eleven months, he was still in love with you. He broke his promises a few months back and started following you again in school, at work, practically everywhere he could catch you. You were still, without a doubt, so beautiful. And he himself was the one who plunged back into that hole. The abyss that was you. The only abyss he wanted to get lost in.
He loved you.
He still does.
He never actually stopped.
And he wanted you back. So much. He realized that the first time he saw you again about two months ago. As selfish as he was, he couldn’t help but think maybe you’d take him back as well.
He’d worked so hard to prove to himself, to the people of Gotham, and most specially, prove to you, that he wanted to be better. Good enough to actually deserve you.
Because he couldn’t take it anymore. He tried. Lots of women. None of them compared to you. Not in the slightest. And he stopped taking advantage of women just to make himself forget you after a while. It wasn’t right. And besides, he was an idiot to think he’d actually even forget you.
Will you take him back?
Will you take him back?
Will you?
Standing outside your apartment, hands stuffed to his hoodie, Jason stared at the door.
Just one push of the doorbell, and he’ll see you, face to face, after so long.
He really fucking wanted you. So bad.
Is he ready? Is he enough?
Hours. He stood there for hours, and still, he didn’t.
No.
He had one last thing to take care of.
One last thing, that if done, would change practically everything. Even if he wasn’t so sure, when he’ll probably have to force himself to do it with all his might,
It would change everything. And no longer will he have to be afraid of the monster that he is. What he was. What he could be if he didn’t try.
Jason pulled out his phone.
He placed it to his ear, walking out of your sidewalk.
“Hello?”
Jason swallowed, hearing that familiar, deep voice.
“Dick. It’s Jason.”
Silence. Bitter silence. Or sweet silence. Whatever it was called.
“Jason?”
“Yeah.”
Mend the past. Forget about what had happened. Move on. That’s what he made you promise. He’ll have do his part as well.
“Hi, Jason.”
“Hi,” he gulped.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.”
Dick was eerily silent in between his occasional mumbles. “I read the reports.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“Sorry.”
He was gonna do it.
‘Do it’, he heard you tell him.
“Can we meet? Just talk things through?”
“Oh,” Dick said. “O-of course, Jason. I’d really like that.”
“Don’t tell Bruce yet. I’ll call him, too. In time.”
“Of course. Whatever you need.”
Jason looked back out into your apartment building, at the window with the fire escape.
-----
12 MONTHS
Gotham Summer Music Festival.
You were all dressed up, made up, and ready to go on stage. Your cue was up next, and you had one song to go through before they’ll let you go home. Your culminating activity before graduation, they said. You had to do this right. You weren’t so nervous, but the fact that your grades were on the line, it terrified you that you might actually have to go through a semester again if you don’t do well.
Nothing to worry about, though. If people were completely honest. You’ll do great. You did great in rehearsals. You’ll do great now. It shouldn’t be any different from all the other performances.
You pulled out your phone and opened an article you had saved in your screenshots.
RED HOOD: GOTHAM’S MOST BELOVED HERO
You smiled. Your heart warmed. Jason would have loved this. Seeing you here.
And you would have loved to see him. You were so proud of him, it was crazy.
You should’ve invited him. Maybe he would have said yes. It was because of him why you were here at all. Even after a year, seeing you onstage wouldn’t be so bad.
But you didn’t. You didn’t want to be rejected again. As much as you still fucking loved him, all the way down in the deepest pits in your heart you learned to tuck away when it wasn’t called for, you knew he probably wouldn’t say yes.
But you closed your eyes, imagined what he would have said to you right now, how his words would have sent you all the way up to the sky, and you’ll be able to tell him how proud you were of him, too. In your most perfect world, he’d be yours. Now that you’ve soared. Now that he was the best version of himself.
“Y/N! You're up!”
You stood up and shook yourself off from that trance.
A good crowd. They cheered at you, and you waved your arm up at them. You were singing solo. And with the school wanting a song that went best with your voice, they let you choose.
The guitar started playing. And you were closing your eyes, letting the music play right through you and got yourself into the void.
.
“I was wrong to say I loved her
I was wrong to think I'm right
But when I told her it was over
My darling I had lied
I've been running from my demons
Afraid to look behind
I've been running from myself
Afraid of what I'd find…”
.
You chose this song. You chose it because of him. Everything. The words. The emotion. It hit every nerve there was. You kept your eyes closed, really felt the words flow through you. The crowd was silent.
.
“But how am I supposed to love you
When I don't love who I am?
And how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?
'Cause I'm a sinking ship that's burning
So let go of my hand
Oh, how can I give you all of me
When I'm only half a man?”
.
You breathed in, taking a second, a tear went down your cheek, then you opened your eyes.
And the world, the once cruel, vile little world that never was so kind to you, finally gave you that smidge of kindness, a pardon of all the years of you beating yourself up, of you going through an inferno of a life, barely being held together with the strings of happiness you desperately hold onto.
Jason.
In the deepest parts of the crowd, so blended in that only you, you could have possibly picked him out of it.
He smiled up at you.
The tears continued to flow.
-----
“And now I'm stuck in this hotel room
By cold neon light
I've been waiting for an answer
But it don't come tonight
And every bottle I had stolen
Lay shattered on the floor
What's broken can't be whole, anymore
.
That song would have spoken to him a year ago. When he did think he was half a man.
He would’ve beaten himself over it like all those years, then he’d have left the crowd and be on his way. But when you caught his eye, tears down your face, he knew this was the right choice. He knew it was right to come back.
God, he was so proud of you.
He could watch you all day. You improved so much, and you sounded nothing less of an angel by now. You were going to ace this grade and you were going to graduate with your head held high, being one of the most talked about students in the school. He was so, so fucking proud of you.
And if you weren’t looking at him like this, he would have thought you didn’t need him anymore.
But he’ll take that chance. He’ll let you make that decision. For once. You’ll be the one to decide if you still wanted him back. He did everything he could to give you that freedom of a choice. Just a few days ago, he talked to Bruce. He’d been talking to Dick and even Tim every so often.
Even if you’ll say no, even if you wouldn’t have him, he came to thank you. If it weren’t for you he wouldn’t be here at all.
It was as if that year without you didn’t even pass. He was still as in love with you as the first time.
He realized you were the only one he’ll ever be in love with since… well, since he first kissed you.
He walked closer to the stage, his eyes never leaving you. You looked at him, with your tears. ‘I’m here,’ he mouthed at you.
And you understood. You closed your eyes, finishing the song with the whole crowd in wild screams and claps. He clapped for you, then he started walking to edge of the crowd. To the left. He saw you going in there.
.
Fuck.
Your heart was beating so fast.
And it wasn’t because you basically finished college or that you performed in front of the biggest crowd in your life.
You went through the mounds of people coming to congratulate you. You hurriedly shook every hand you could, then you excused yourself to go out into the crowd.
.
You weren’t here. Where did you go? He could have sworn you went this way just a moment ago. Jason went back into the audience, walking over to the other side, the one going into the backstage.
.
You couldn’t see him. He wasn’t where you last saw him. Jason couldn’t have left, right? He told you he was here. He’d be a jackass if he left again. You went into the crowd and got yourself lost.
.
“Sorry,” he said to a guy he accidently hit with his shoulder. You weren’t backstage. The sun was starting to come down. It’ll be a lot harder to find you in the dark. People were sweaty and smelly and he desperately wanted to get out of here.
.
You bumped through every person you could. “Excuse me.” You stood in your tip toes, looking for a guy so tall he’d be seen from a mile away. Nothing. You couldn’t see him. You started to feel your heart sink.
.
He had to see you now. Now. Now. Now. Where the fuck were you-
There. Standing in the middle of the audience on your toes, trying to look for him in the other direction. And he froze. He didn’t know if he should come up to you so suddenly. What was he going to say to you?
.
You started to lose so much hope, so quickly you wanted to cry.
But as the world continued to remind you that good things eventually do happen, you turned around.
He was almost being hidden by the people passing through, but the moment you caught his eye, everything else was a blur.
.
You saw him now, with your beautiful eyes shaking as it caught his own. Jason gulped, hands in his pockets trying to conceal his quaking. He took the first step.
The crowd’s screams. The voices. The people around you. They didn’t exist.
.
You started walking towards him, slowly. You took your time. You were too nervous to just suddenly go up to him. But he looked so handsome and bright and radiant. No one would blame you. You heard soft bells in the distance, or perhaps a soft key in the piano, repeatedly playing the more steps you took.
.
Jason smiled at you.
.
You smiled back.
.
And finally, finally…
You were standing in front of him.
He wasn’t exactly sure what to say.
.
You didn’t know what to tell him. You took even more steps to close your distance. And when you got close enough, despite the crowd and the noise, you heard him. “Hi…”
You chuckled. “Hi…”
.
He looked down, at his feet. He was probably blushing at the sight of you. You just looked so beautiful.
.
Everything. After all that, you’ve both changed for the better.
.
And even when it took so long, now, you were ready for each other.
.
Logically. Truthfully. The only thing that one year taught him was how much he dreaded having to go on each day without you.
.
It just couldn't be. Both of you forcing yourselves to believe you were better off apart. It just wasn't true. In the simplest way, you had to have each other.
.
It wouldn't be living without you.
.
No other time felt so right.
.
Jason took another step closer to you. “You were amazing out there…”
“Thank you,” you said. You took the next step. You were standing so close to his chest, you looked right up to his eyes.
.
You didn’t want to waste any more time.
“I heard... about the things you've done,” you told him. “I‘m proud of you.”
Jason smiled.
"I'm proud of you, too."
.
Jason wanted you in his arms already. Not a minute more to pass without you in them.
He took your hand. And you looked at it, before turning up to look so mesmerizingly into his eyes. He had so much to say to you.
Here you were, standing right in front of him.
Yeah. This was the right choice.
He didn't even have to say all that he thought, how you two just couldn't live being apart and how, especially now, you didn't have to. You could have him. He could have you.
You held his face, so gently with your lingering eyes, then you kissed him.
-----
The whole world could have disappeared.
But nothing, nothing could have stopped either of you from a kiss that had been years too late. A kiss that a beginning to another story. One where no longer did you have more secrets, more demons to hide. When you’ve both changed so much for the other that the timing couldn’t possibly be more perfect. You were here. He was here.
Everything was spinning. Everything was light. And with that kiss, flashes of a future you desperately wanted washed over you, and after all those years of hardships and punishments, if this was what it ultimately led to, then it was all worth it.
“Y/N...” he whispered.
Jason held you by the face and kissed you so hard, the whole crowd erupting in applause for another performer he didn’t care about. You held onto him so tightly, letting the sun go down as time went by. You didn’t count the minutes. Not any longer. You both knew, somehow, you just knew. This time, it was going to last.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said. You smiled so brightly against his lips. “Where?”
He looked around. “I have a place in mind. But it’s three hours away.”
-----
Just as it had been chaotic, wild, and overwhelming a while ago, it was the complete opposite now.
The place was closed, as expected, but you and Jason managed to go to the house’s door step. He took you to a place that he owed your story to. You’ve never been here before, but even then, he saw how much your smile lit up the empty Philadelphia street the moment you walked out of the car.
And with you, sitting on the steps of the historical building with him on your side, you both looked up at the sky, at the stars that littered about that weren’t there back at home.
Jason thanked the stars as well. He thanked everything. You leaned on his shoulder, and you spent the night away on that porch, watching how love made the whole world come to a slow, steady pause. He was never going to let you go. Not anymore. You were his. Actually his. Forever.
Just like he used to, Jason reached over to take your chin, and with his lips so soft, he kissed you.
You were sitting outside the house of a man who brought two lost souls together, who often wrote about sadness and depth and ended up bringing two kids to fall in love. The man he never thought he’d thank, but he did.
On the plaque standing next to the house’s door, it read:
Edgar Allan Pоe National Historic Site
--------
I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST
-------
FUUUUUUUUCK IT’S OVER I CAN’T BELIEVE IT
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