—You'll Never Be Mine, But I'll Always Be Yours—
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader
Warnings/tags: angst, mentions of a breakup, hurt/no comfort, a lot of reminiscing on Jason's end and a bit on the reader's too, the reader is connected to the Waynes somehow but she isn't adopted, vigilante!reader, bitter feelings, no closure, yearning Jason Todd™, lowkey forced proximity, mentions of reader working at a cafe.
A/N: Jason Todd rabbit hole + angst. That's all I wanted to say. I'm in a sad angsty mood these days because Autumn :3 I apologise if it's shitty, I am running on four hours of sleep.
Dividers from @cafekitsune & @cursed-carmine
Title from Senses by MICO
It was never meant to end like this. Not in Jason's eyes anyway.
Tears, screaming, words hurtful enough that a bullet would hurt less, and doors slamming before apologies could be said.
The words rang in Jason's ears long after you left, your shared apartment quiet after the argument that had shattered your relationship.
"I'm tired of this, Jason—I'm tired of you, of us. I can't do this anymore."
You left with tears in your eyes, because he was a prick. An asshole who couldn't open up about how he really felt after three whole years together. Three years which were supposed to be built with mutual trust, sacrifices on both ends, and love.
Jason wasn't sure when it went wrong. He knew what he did—well, he figured it out when you screamed it at his face anyway.
And the worst part of it all? There was no way for the two of you to avoid each other. Sure, it was easy during the day, Jason usually stayed at his apartment cleaning his guns or hanging around the Batcave to work on his bike.
But by the end of the day? There were always patrols around Gotham, and it wasn't like he could just abandon his responsibilities and screw off to the middle of fucking nowhere—even if he could, Dick would always manage to find him.
He didn't dare say anything to anyone, especially not Dick or Bruce. Though, it was obvious enough to everyone that something had happened between Jason and you. It was a cave full of detectives, after all.
You tried to keep it between yourselves, enduring most of the patrols together, but Jason, being the ass he was, would always make them worse.
Starting petty fights, bitter comments on private comms, nitpicking every little thing you did. It was horrible. And it always ended the same.
"Jason, can you stop?" "Yeah? Stop what, princess? Stop being myself?" "Jason, you know what I mean—" "No. No, I really don't, sweetheart. Remind me again?"
He knew how he was acting, and he knew he was making it worse—when the truth was—he just wanted to fix what went wrong. He just... wanted you back. He didn't know how else to show he still cared but through this. Whatever this was.
Jason knew it wasn't fair to you. He should leave you alone, because you weren't his anymore. But it still didn't stop him from glaring at every other guy who tried flirting with you while you worked at the cafe.
Because it hurt. It hurt that you left. The fact that Jason proved himself right—that you'd leave, and it was all his fault. His fault for not trusting you enough, when all you did was trust him, give yourself to him, and reassure him with every insecurity rearing its ugly head out of him.
Every time he saw you smile around your colleagues or friends, reminded him of how that smile was directed at him. How it was his before everything went to shit.
The nightmares came back worse than ever, making Jason wake up screaming and sweating, only to realise you weren't by his side, that he couldn't seek comfort in your warmth or your sweet voice to calm him down.
Obviously, with the lack of proper rest and the festering of bitter emotions inside of him, someone was bound to notice Jason's sour behaviour.
"Okay, what is up with you? This is the fifth grunt you've let out in less than an hour."
Dick crossed his arms as he interrogated his younger brother, brows furrowed in worry. He knew that there was something, but he'd rather hear it from the source itself than just speculate.
Jason looked... horrible, to say the least. Bags under his eyes, his hair sticking out like he's run his fingers through it restlessly, and he looked more exhausted than usual.
"It's nothing," he'd mutter out, but the two of them knew it was bullshit.
Prying in Jason's business wasn't a good idea, so Dick didn't continue pursuing the conversation, only squeezing the younger man's shoulder in silent support.
That made Jason scoff. He didn't need anyone's pity—he just wanted you back. And he'd sacrifice anything, just to see you smile at him again. To call you his just one more time.
But it was obvious, you weren't coming back to him. You seemed... happier. Without him.
He saw it through your smiles, your laughs and how light your expression seemed when he wasn't around. Jason would notice how your expression seemed to drop just a tiny bit when you saw him at the cave before patrol, and it hurt him more than he'd like to admit.
It felt like getting his ribs crushed, the pressure in his chest hurting him physically even though it was just his emotions making him feel this way.
You deserved better—it was hard to admit to himself, but you really did. You deserved someone less... damaged. And it made sense for you to leave, even when it hurt both his pride and heart. That you'd just given up on him, when you spent three whole years trying to make it work.
Maybe that was the problem. Along the way, you just... forgot how to work together. To trust each other.
Small misunderstandings that led to bigger arguments, forgotten anniversaries or dates planned ahead. It all piled up inside a bottle of unresolved emotions until it just exploded in his face.
Jason wished he had done it differently. He wished he gave you more of his attention, more of his time, more of what you needed, but that wouldn't fix anything. Not when you wouldn't even look his way anymore.
You felt... better. Lighter, with Jason out of your mind. As much as the breakup wrecked you from the inside, at least you had friends there to support your decision.
There were still times where your chest would ache at a certain memory, a certain moment in time when you and Jason were still okay.
Where the two of you laughed at random things during patrol, the light feeling in your chest when you saw him waiting for you after a long day of your shift at the cafe. The tiny moments where he'd bring you your favourite pastries or carry you to your shared bedroom just because.
As the breakup felt less and less fresh, you managed to take up more patrols again, mostly pairing up with Steph and Cass or Dick. You still avoided Jason, still not trusting yourself to not tense up in front of him if you locked eyes.
Sometimes, you'd linger in your thoughts while on the rooftop, wondering how it would be like if you didn't walk away from him. Would you two have managed to fix things? Or would you still feel like you were stuck between the past and the now?
You wouldn't be able to say. And you didn't want to. Jason was history in your eyes, the hurt not worth coming back to, even if he tried begging you to come back to him.
It was better this way. The two of you might have ended in bad circumstances, but you felt better.
And Jason knew you felt better, so he didn't do anything about it. All he wanted was for you to be happy. His bitterness and aching heart be damned.
Because in the end? Even if you weren't his, he'd be yours.
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