Batboys x Reader

Stitches (Jason Todd x Reader)

Hello! I have just found the most amazing musical called Hadestown: The Myth. The Musical. I absolutely love it and would seriously recommend it to any people who love musicals. Ok, that's enough from me now. I had asked for help with picking the person involved ages ago so thank you guys cause it helped me so much! I have used some parts of the video and song so it is all kinda combined (Meaning that some song lyrics and scenes will be missing). I'm sorry, this story doesn't do the video justice. Enjoy! :)

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(Y/N) Pov

I want him to miss me, miss me like there is a part of him dying. I want to take him to a place of utter devotion and need, then crush him like he crushed me. He likes sexy, I can be the best looking girl in town when I put in some effort. He likes soft and vulnerable, not hard to pull off since that used to be me. I'm ashamed to call him an ex-boyfriend, but since he's saddled me with being one of the "notches" he brags about, revenge isn't so much an option than an obligation. This is one girl he's gonna wish he'd treated better.

I tug at the new dress the store assistant swore looked so flattering. Now I wonder if the around me will think it's too short. With each tug, the front goes lower causing me to stop. At least in the fading light, the colours aren't so garish, so bold; because inside I just want to find a quiet place to hide. I pull out my phone, not to check for messages, but to flick through some photographs of Jason and I when we were happy together, or so I thought. There's something about these candid shots that set my heart racing almost too fast.

I watch the people around me talk quietly as they drink their wine. As soon as I look up I see him. I haven't seen him for nearly three months and I am struck anew by his good looks. He is smoothed and tailored by success, he carries his height with easy self-assurance and the blue eyes. His hair, now with a white streak, is still thick with an unruliness that expensive cutting hadn't completely disciplined. It adds to his attractiveness, hinting at an untamed individuality which is far removed from the tedium of conventional male good looks. A woman hangs from his arm causing a slight jolt of sadness through me.

As I continue to stare at this girl hanging from his arm the similarity between us becomes clear. The girl smiles at Jason in a way that never meant good things, but already his face is washed with desire. She rolls back her shoulders and observes as his eyes are drawn towards me. Tossing her (H/C) hair she glances my way, her (E/C) eyes narrowing in disapproval. She is thinner, prettier and is just way better than what I could ever be. My eyes linger on their linked arms causing my heart to ache. I want to scream at him, ask him why. Why in this godforsaken world would he do this to me? 

I hate him. I fucking hate him for this. He turned me into this broken mess, his touch will be with me for years, or maybe for the rest of my life, who knows.

Jason Pov

Her emotions are not easily hidden on her innocent face. Her pain is evident in the crease of her lovely brow and the down-curve of her lips. But her eyes, her eyes show her soul. As I look into her eyes I know, all the beauty of the universe can not even hope to compete with this simple thing: passion. Passion turns her eyes into orbs of the brightest fire, and in them, I read clearly that she is willing to fight the very last tear for her life. She is determined to not allow the world to break her. Sure she can cry, but she will never let them take her true self from her. She clings to it with a passion. The passion makes her beautiful.

"What? Why are you looking at me like that?" She asks fiercely.

"Oh no, I...I...I," I manage to stutter.

"Jason! Leave me alone." She chokes out.

My heart aches like a wolf eating at my chest, tearing it's way to my trembling heart. It threatens to devour me, eat me whole and leave nothing but scraps behind. I thought that leaving (Y/N) would be the hardest thing in my life, It hurt me more than my death. But seeing her like this, standing strong with tears in her eyes. (Y/N) has been the only girl that has left me this sore, her words cutting into me as if they are knives. (Y/N)'s eyes flick from the girl on my arm than back to me. 

"I hate you." She spits.

The girl on my arms pulls me away from (Y/N) while claiming that she would be able to make me feel better, that she can breathe me back to life or something. Without a word, I slip from the girls grasp and run to my room. With each second that passes, I feel myself growing angrier and angrier at myself. How could I let (Y/N) slip through my fingers? I slam my door shut and glance around my room, finding photo's that include (Y/N). Anger boil inside me causing me to slam my fist into the wall with a yell, creating a small dent and causing a few of the photos to fall. 

The photos show the happy moments (Y/N) brought into my life. I should stop calling her my lover, I should move on. How is this any different to my past relationships? Why can't I leave this one as easily? I see the men that treat her as if she is a princess but never giving her the right title. She is a queen and therefore should be treated that way. She was my anchor, she kept me calm when no one else could, she broke down the walls that shielded me for so long. 

I feel my body begin to shake and my knees buckle causing me to fall. My brain races in the most unhelpful way. Every moment we spent together turns into painful memories. They are sharp and cut right through me everytime I think about the way (Y/N) looked at me. Even the sweet good moments we had are now turned into a knife that kills my heart. The last time I had a panic attack (Y/N) was here to help me, she stopped it.

Ever since the breakup, I've been tripping over myself, making mistakes that shouldn't even be possible to make. There have been so many times where I have wanted to get her back, to call and explain why I had to break her heart, tell her how much I miss her. But each time I try she is strong enough to push me away, her stubbornness saving her from more heartbreak. The first time we saw each other after the breakup she had driven away as quickly as she could, leaving me to watch as her car got further away.

I am drawn to her like a moth is to a flame, she lures me in each time and I always ignore the pain that is destined to come afterwards. I am the reason why her heart turns bitter and cold each time we meet. The thought of her being in another man's arms angers me so much that red fills my vision. Because she isn't in my arms.

I slowly take the pictures down from the wall, I have to get her out of my head otherwise I'll wind up dead.