☆Mary☆ | she/her | Hufflepuff | INFP | 22 and delusional ♡ English is not my first language, so pls be kind ♡ I'm OBSESSED with Jason Todd, can you tell?
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Warnings: explicit sexual content, friends to lovers, mutual pining, birthday sex, oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie
Summary:
Going all out for Jason’s birthday was supposed to be something nice you did for a friend, right up until neither of you could convincingly call it just friendly anymore.
Author’s Note:
written for @dutifullyshamelesstrash’s request for my 1k celebration!
thank you so much for the request, and happy early birthday to Jason Todd, the love of my life
Jason had been suspicious from the moment you told him to keep his evening free.
You hadn’t helped matters by refusing to elaborate. He’d asked where you were going, what he needed to wear, whether there were going to be other people there, and eventually whether you were planning to harvest his organs. You’d answered every question with some variation of don’t worry about it until he finally stopped asking, although the look on his face when you opened your apartment door suggested he hadn’t stopped trying to figure it out.
“You know normal people just say happy birthday, right?”
“Happy birthday.”
Jason gave you a flat look as you stepped aside. He’d come in jeans, boots, a dark T-shirt, and his leather jacket, which was exactly what you’d meant when you told him to wear whatever he wanted. “That easy, huh?”
“You’re the one who made it complicated. Come in.”
He crossed the threshold with exaggerated caution, making a show of surveying your living room as though he expected the rest of his family to leap out from behind the sofa. Jason took off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair, then toed off his boots by the door without being reminded. You’d enforced the no-shoes rule enough times that even he had finally stopped arguing about it.
His shoulders relaxed once he realized the apartment was empty, but then his attention caught on the coffee table and the kitchen beyond it.
You’d spent more time arranging everything than you wanted to admit. Dinner from the restaurant he’d mentioned liking months ago sat under insulated covers, still warm because you’d timed the delivery carefully. His preferred soda was chilling in the refrigerator, and the chocolate cake on the counter was small enough that neither of you would be eating leftovers for the next week.
There were no balloons, streamers, banners, or anything else that might’ve turned the evening into a spectacle. There was, however, a short stack of wrapped presents beside the couch.
Jason’s gaze lingered on the presents before moving back to you. “You did all this?”
“It’s dinner.”
His eyes moved toward the presents.
“And presents,” you amended.
Something subtle shifted in his expression before he covered it with a faint smile. “Nobody else coming?”
“No. I figured if I invited Dick, there’d be a theme by the time you got here, and you’d spend your own birthday looking for an escape route.”
That earned a quiet laugh, and some of the lingering suspicion finally left Jason’s expression. “You know me too well.”
That, unfortunately, was part of the problem.
Dinner gave you something else to think about. You sat at opposite ends of the couch with takeout cartons spread across the coffee table while the movie Jason chose played in front of you, and it didn’t take long for the initial tension in his posture to disappear. He settled deeper into the cushions, one leg eventually stretching across the space between you until his socked foot nudged your thigh.
You moved it away once, but five minutes later it was back, and you didn’t bother fighting him a second time.
The movie was one you’d seen with him before, which meant you already knew Jason would quietly mutter whenever something on-screen annoyed him. Normally you encouraged it just to see how long he could go before a passing complaint became a full lecture, but tonight you mostly listened, smiling into your food whenever he caught himself and glanced over at you.
This was what you’d wanted. Jason could handle crowds. He could charm strangers when he felt like it, command a room when he needed to, and hold his own among people who seemed determined to make every family occasion louder than the last. That didn’t mean he liked having attention forced onto him, particularly when that attention came with expectations about how grateful or moved he was supposed to look.
You didn’t want him performing his own birthday for anybody; you just wanted him to have a good night.
The thought settled somewhere uncomfortably warm beneath your ribs, and you turned your attention back to the movie before you could examine it too closely.
By the time the credits rolled, Jason had relaxed enough that you almost felt bad interrupting him. You glanced toward the kitchen.
“Want cake?”
His foot left your thigh immediately.
You stared at him.
Jason pushed himself upright. “What?”
“Nothing. I’m just appreciating your enthusiasm.”
He looked mildly offended. “You asked what kind I liked six weeks ago. I’ve been waiting to find out whether that was related to whatever you were planning.”
Heat crept up your neck. Of course he remembered.
“That conversation could’ve been completely unrelated.”
“Sure.”
You escaped into the kitchen before he could watch you struggle for a better excuse. The cake was exactly where you’d left it, and Jason followed at a slower pace while you opened the drawer where you’d hidden the candles. You’d only bought two.
His eyebrows rose when you pushed them into the frosting.
“I’m older than two.”
“I’m not putting twenty-something candles on that cake. I don’t need the smoke detector screaming at us.”
He snorted, but his attention softened when you lit them.
For a moment, Jason only watched the flames.
The kitchen suddenly felt quieter than it had a second ago. You knew enough about his history not to assume birthdays were uncomplicated for him, and you’d deliberately avoided turning tonight into a conversation about that. You didn’t want to make him explain what the day meant or didn’t mean. You wanted him to have food he liked, something sweet, a couple of presents, and the freedom to enjoy any of it without needing to justify why.
So you didn’t sing.
You only slid the cake toward him. “Make a wish.”
Jason glanced at you, then back at the candles. After a moment, he bowed his head with theatrical solemnity and blew them out.
You laughed, and some of the weight in his expression disappeared with the smoke.
While you cut the cake, Jason dragged a finger through the frosting along the edge. You gave him a look, which he ignored completely before stealing another swipe while you transferred the first slice onto his plate. By the time you carried both plates back to the couch, the quiet moment in the kitchen had dissolved into something easier.
The presents were still waiting, and Jason noticed them before he sat down. This time he didn’t make a joke. “You really didn’t have to get me anything.”
“I know.”
You handed him the smaller package.
That answer seemed to land harder than you’d expected. He looked at you for a second before lowering his attention to the wrapping paper and carefully opening it.
The riding gloves were first. His old pair had been splitting along one seam for months. He’d complained about needing to replace them while fixing your car in the spring, then predictably continued wearing them. You’d noticed the size printed inside one when he tossed them to you to hold, and apparently some stubborn corner of your brain had decided the information was worth keeping.
Jason turned the new pair over in his hands, recognizing the brand immediately. “These are nice.”
“Your old ones are trying to disintegrate.”
“They’ve got life left.”
“They have a hole in them.”
“One hole.”
You gave him a look.
A small smile pulled at his mouth as he slid the gloves on. They fit exactly as they should, and he flexed his fingers once before examining the reinforced palms.
“How’d you get my size?”
“I noticed the label when you made me hold your old ones.”
“That was months ago.”
“I remember things.”
Jason looked at you in a way you didn’t particularly want to analyze and slowly pulled the gloves off again. He placed them beside him instead of returning them to the box.
You reached for the second present before that could become a conversation. “This one took longer to find.”
The shape gave away that it was a book immediately. Jason ran his thumb along one edge before opening the paper, more carefully than he had with the first gift.
Then he went still.
Months ago, he’d told you about a copy of The Count of Monte Cristo he’d owned before Bruce took him in and never gotten back after lending it out. The loss itself wasn’t especially important, at least not according to him, but he’d spent long enough describing the edition that you’d teased him for being sentimental about a book he claimed not to miss. At some point, he’d even found a photo of the cover online to prove that the newer editions weren’t as good.
You’d remembered it, so when you spotted the same edition in the window of a used bookstore a few weeks ago, you recognized it immediately.
Jason turned the book over and checked the publication information inside before looking back at the cover.
“You found it.” His voice was quieter now.
“I found one.”
“The same printing.”
“You were very opinionated about the cover.”
“I was right.”
“You usually think you are.”
Normally that would’ve earned a response. This time, Jason only ran his thumb over the worn edge of the book.
“How long were you looking?”
“I wasn’t exactly hunting through Gotham with a flashlight. I just kept an eye out after you mentioned it.”
That did very little to make his expression easier to read.
You took another bite of cake, suddenly aware of how much of your evening could be traced back to things Jason had mentioned in passing: the restaurant, the cake, the gloves, the book.
Apparently Jason had reached the same conclusion. “You do this for all your friends?”
“Yeah.” The answer escaped before you thought about it. Jason looked at you, and you frowned down at your plate. Maybe not exactly like this.
You remembered Dick’s birthday last year because everyone did. You’d contributed to group gifts, shown up at parties, bought drinks, sent texts, and done all the ordinary things people did for friends they loved.
You had never kept an eye out for a particular edition of someone’s favorite book just because they’d mentioned missing it once.
“Some of them,” you amended.
Jason’s mouth twitched.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“Actually, I was gonna eat my cake.”
You grabbed the nearest pillow and hit him with it.
Jason caught it before the second swing.
His reflexes were unfair on the best of days. When he tugged, you weren’t expecting enough force to pull you forward, and you caught yourself with one hand against his chest while the pillow slipped uselessly between you.
His other arm came around your waist automatically.
The laughter left you both at nearly the same time.
You were suddenly close enough to feel the warmth of his hand through your shirt. One of your knees had landed between his thighs, and your palm was still spread over his chest, directly above the steady beat of his heart.
Jason’s gaze dropped to your mouth.
Your own pulse stumbled.
When he spoke, his voice was lower. “So how many of them?”
You didn’t pretend to misunderstand.
Your eyes flicked toward the book beside him. “I wanted you to have a good birthday.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you asking?”
Jason’s fingers shifted against your waist, almost absently. “Because you went through a hell of a lot of trouble for a friend.”
There wasn’t much you could say to that without lying. You’d known for a while that whatever you felt for Jason had become inconveniently difficult to fit inside friendship. It was easier to ignore when it lived in ordinary moments: the way you automatically saved him a seat, how often you looked for him first when you walked into a room, the embarrassing amount of his life your brain apparently considered important enough to catalog.
Tonight had taken all those little things and wrapped them in paper.
“I care about you,” you said.
Jason’s expression softened. “Yeah?”
“Probably more than I’m supposed to.”
Jason went still.
Embarrassment started creeping up your neck before he finally asked, “Supposed to according to who?”
“We’re friends.”
The word sounded considerably less convincing than it had earlier.
Jason looked down at the hand you still had pressed against his chest before meeting your eyes again. “If I kiss you, are you gonna tell me tomorrow that I misunderstood all this?”
Your breath caught. “No.”
Something in his face eased.
You curled your fingers into his shirt and kissed him before you could lose your nerve.
Jason hesitated for the briefest moment, surprise catching him even after everything you’d just admitted. Then his hand came up to your face, thumb settling beneath your cheekbone as he kissed you back.
The pillow was still wedged stupidly between you. Neither of you seemed to notice until you tried to move closer and it folded against Jason’s stomach, breaking the kiss with a muffled laugh.
He pulled it free and tossed it somewhere behind the couch.
When he looked back at you, the humor in his expression had softened into something that made your stomach turn over.
“Come here.”
This time, when he kissed you, you didn’t have to wonder whether he meant it.
You broke the kiss long enough to breathe. “This probably complicates the friendship thing.”
“Little bit.”
His mouth brushed yours again.
You smiled despite yourself. “Terrible timing.”
“Personally, I’m having a great birthday.”
That laugh barely had time to escape before he kissed you again.
His hands slipped beneath your shirt, but instead of immediately pulling you closer, Jason paused with his palms warm against your waist, like touching you this way required a second adjustment after years of casual contact. You felt the hesitation disappear when you leaned into him. His thumbs moved along your ribs, and you caught his lower lip between your teeth, making Jason’s fingers tighten at your waist.
The kiss deepened until the angle became awkward, your knee pressing into the couch beside his hip and his shoulders twisted toward you.
“Bedroom?” he murmured.
You nodded. Jason stood and, before you could follow, bent to slide one arm beneath your thighs and the other around your back. You made a startled noise as he lifted you, your arms going automatically around his shoulders.
“I can walk.”
“I know.”
He carried you anyway.
The ridiculousness of it should’ve broken the tension, but by the time he set you on the edge of your bed, the moment had turned serious again. He stood between your knees with his hands resting lightly on your thighs, looking at you as though the change of rooms had finally given him time to realize this was actually happening.
You reached for the hem of his shirt. Jason helped you pull it over his head before doing the same with yours. You’d seen him shirtless before, usually because knowing vigilantes had a way of making casual nudity around injuries considerably less interesting than it should’ve been, but this was different. There was nothing clinical about the way your gaze moved over him now.
He noticed, but for once he didn’t tease.
Jason bent and kissed you again as his fingers found the clasp of your bra. Once it was undone, he slipped the bra from your shoulders and let his palms glide slowly over your breasts, thumbs brushing across your nipples until your breathing changed beneath his mouth.
His lips followed, kissing his way down your chest, tongue sweeping over one nipple before his mouth closed around it as you leaned back on your hands. The sensation dragged a quiet moan from you, and Jason’s hand moved to your waist as though he wanted to feel the reaction everywhere at once.
He gave the other breast the same attention before moving lower.
Your jeans went next. Jason undid them and eased them down your legs, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pulled those off too. He kissed your stomach as he lowered himself between your thighs, the sight of him there making heat gather low in your body.
His hands slid beneath your knees and parted your legs gently. He pressed a kiss against the inside of one thigh, then another higher up, taking his time until your fingers curled into the blanket beneath you.
When his mouth finally reached you, you inhaled sharply.
Jason dragged his tongue through you in a slow stroke before settling over your clit. Your head tipped back as pleasure spread through your stomach, immediate and bright enough to make your thighs tense around his shoulders. He didn’t rush, circling steadily while one finger eased inside you, curling against you until your hips moved toward his mouth. A second followed once you relaxed around him, and the combination made your breath break on his name.
Jason reached for one of your hands, lacing your fingers together against your hip while his mouth stayed between your thighs. The gesture was so unexpectedly tender that it sent another pulse of heat through you.
The pressure built quickly after that. Your body tightened around his fingers, your free hand gripping the sheets as the pleasure sharpened.
“Jason.”
He didn’t need anything more.
Your orgasm rolled through you hard enough to lift your hips from the mattress. Jason kept his mouth against you through it, fingers moving slowly until the tremors began to ease and you tugged weakly at the hand holding yours.
He finally lifted his head, and you were still trying to catch your breath when he climbed back onto the bed.
Jason kissed you before either of you said anything, and you tasted yourself on his tongue as his weight settled carefully between your thighs. The hard line of his cock pressed against your leg through his jeans, making it difficult to forget that he was considerably less unaffected than his patience had suggested.
You reached between you and palmed him.
His breath caught against your mouth.
“Still think the book was the best present?”
Jason’s eyes opened, and a smile threatened at the corner of his mouth. “You really want me answering that?”
“Maybe later.”
“Smart.”
You opened his belt before he could say anything else. Jason got off the bed long enough to strip out of his jeans and underwear, kicking them aside before climbing back onto the mattress.
His attention shifted toward your nightstand. He opened the top drawer and found a box of condoms, pulling one free before you took the packet from his hand.
He looked at you questioningly.
“I trust you.” You tossed it across the room, where it disappeared somewhere near the foot of the bed. “I’m clean, I’m on birth control, and I know you’re clean too. Bruce’s medical paranoia alone guarantees you’ve been tested more recently than most people I know.”
Jason’s expression shifted, surprise giving way to something warmer.
“I have.”
“I figured.”
His hand settled against your thigh. “And you’re sure?”
You drew him back between your legs. “I’m sure.”
Jason kissed you as he leaned over you again, his hand sliding along your thigh as you hooked a leg around his hip to bring him nearer.
The first press of him made your breath catch. Jason stayed close, watching you carefully as you adjusted. When you relaxed beneath him, you ran a hand up his back and pulled him closer, encouraging him to sink the rest of the way inside.
For a few seconds, Jason stayed still with his forehead resting against yours. His breathing had gone rough, the restraint in his body obvious enough that affection twisted unexpectedly through the heat in your stomach.
You kissed him. “Move.”
He did. The first few thrusts were slow, giving you time to adjust to the fullness of him. Jason braced one hand beside your head while the other settled at your hip, his rhythm gradually strengthening as your body loosened beneath him.
You wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled him closer, and Jason groaned as the angle changed. His mouth moved from yours to your jaw, then lower along your throat, teeth grazing your skin before his tongue soothed the same spot.
Your fingers tightened against his shoulders.
“Careful,” you breathed. “You’re going to leave a mark.”
Jason paused and lifted his head enough to look at you.
You tilted your chin, giving him more room.
Understanding flashed across his face before his mouth returned to your neck. The light bite sent a shiver through you.
Jason’s pace grew less measured as your body responded to him, the bed shifting faintly beneath every thrust. You could hear the difference in his breathing near your ear, the occasional rough sound he failed to swallow when you tightened around him.
“Fuck,” he murmured against your skin. “You feel so good.”
The praise made your stomach tighten.
You slid one hand into his hair and kissed him, drawing him closer as another wave of pleasure began building. Jason seemed to feel the change in you. His hand left your hip and moved between your bodies, his thumb returning to your clit with the same rhythm that had worked so well earlier.
Your breath stuttered as he kept the pressure steady, his thrusts deepening as your legs tightened around him. The second orgasm built slower than the first but struck harder when it finally broke, your body clenching around his cock while you gasped his name into the space between you.
Jason’s rhythm faltered.
You pulled him into another kiss.
He managed only a few more thrusts before he came with a low groan against your mouth, hips pressing firmly to yours as the tension drained from his body.
For a little while, neither of you moved.
Jason eventually lowered his face into the side of your neck, and you ran your fingers lazily through his hair while both of you caught your breath.
“Happy birthday,” you murmured.
His laugh vibrated against your skin.
“That’s gonna be hard to top next year.”
“You’re assuming this becomes a tradition.”
Jason lifted his head just enough to look at you.
You couldn’t hold the expression for more than a second before smiling.
“Yeah,” he said. “That’s what I thought.”
He kissed you once, softer this time, then carefully pulled out. A moment later, Jason slid one arm beneath your knees and the other around your back and lifted you from the bed.
You looped your arms around his shoulders as he carried you into the bathroom, too warm and pleasantly wrung out to argue with the decision. He set you down carefully beside the toilet, then reached over to start the shower while you cleaned up and peed.
By the time you were finished, steam had begun gathering along the glass. Jason stepped beneath the spray first and held a hand out for you, and you joined him a moment later.
The shower stayed quiet and unhurried. Jason washed the sweat from your skin and helped rinse between your thighs, his touch gentle after everything that had come before. You returned the favor, running soapy hands over his shoulders and chest until he caught one of your wrists and pressed a kiss to your palm.
Neither of you seemed in any hurry to get out.
Eventually, Jason shut off the water and reached for the towels, wrapping one around you before taking the other for himself. While you dried off, he used a washcloth to wipe the splashed water from the edge of the tub, then tossed it toward the hamper and missed by several inches.
You looked at the floor, then at him.
“I saw that.”
“You’re supposed to be an excellent shot.”
“I’m off duty.”
You laughed as Jason retrieved the washcloth with a muttered complaint and dropped it properly into the hamper this time.
When you finally returned to bed, clean and warm, Jason climbed in beside you and pulled you against his chest almost as soon as you settled beneath the blankets. The joking faded naturally as his arm wrapped around your waist, his breathing slow and steady against your shoulder.
With nothing left to distract either of you, you finally had time to think about what you’d actually done. You stayed quiet for a while, listening to Jason breathe behind you before turning enough to look at him.
“So what happens now?”
His arm stayed around your waist. “You mean besides me getting to tell everyone you seduced me on my birthday?”
“Jason.”
The teasing faded from his expression.
“I want this,” he said. “Not just tonight.”
The answer came easily enough that some of the tension you hadn’t realized you were carrying loosened.
“Good.”
Jason studied you for a moment. “That all I get?”
You smiled and shifted closer. “I want it too.”
His hand moved up your back, settling between your shoulder blades as he drew you into a kiss.
“So we’re not doing the friends thing anymore,” you murmured when you pulled away.
Jason’s expression softened. “I think we crossed that line on the couch.”
“Yeah.”
His thumb brushed along your cheek. “You okay with that?”
You smiled. “More than okay.”
Jason drew you into another kiss.
The book you’d found for him was still sitting beside two abandoned cake plates in the living room. His new gloves rested near the wrapping paper, the dinner cartons still needed to be put away, and there was probably frosting drying somewhere on your kitchen counter.
None of it seemed particularly urgent.
Jason’s fingers found yours beneath the blanket and linked them together.
After a while, he broke the comfortable silence. “You know, this was a pretty good birthday.”
You smiled against his chest. “Pretty good?”
“I don’t want it going to your head.”
“Too late.”
Jason tucked you closer against him, his fingers still loosely threaded through yours beneath the blankets.
Whatever came after this could be figured out in the morning.
For now, neither of you seemed interested in putting any distance back between you.
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Just watched Spiderman Brand New Day, I'm not going to make any spoilers, but I would say i had my soul about to leave my body twice watching it and my heartbroken as well. And tears were definitely shed. That's it. That's my take on the movie.
jason todd would fight someone for you if they said the wrong thing. he doesn't play about you and never will. he knows how men think, how disgusting they can be at times so he's always cautious when he's with you. if another man ever dares to say anything even remotely dirty or catcall you, then it would be his last day on earth. that's why you love him so much, because he's the type to protect you when you're wearing something skimpy rather than force you to dress differently.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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blurb: john logan claims that he doesn’t do jealousy. he thinks he’s above such petty feelings. but what happens when his girlfriend gets hit on at a house party?
warnings: fem!reader, suggestive, established relationship, alcohol
note: smut pt. 2 here
“Cupcake?”
You turned around at the voice, meeting the face of a 6’2” football player you didn’t know personally but recognized from the Briar sports Instagram account.
He was staring at your headpiece; a frosting top with colorful sprinkles. You realized what he was trying to say.
“Oh, no. I’m chocolate,” you said.
He raised an amused brow, “Chocolate?”
You nodded, sipping your beer. “Chocolate.” You confirmed, then pointed across the room to where Kendall was busy making out with one of the hockey players. “She’s vanilla. We’re chocolate and vanilla swirl.”
The football player nodded in understanding. “Ah. I see,” he said before looking over at Kendall. “Though vanilla isn’t very vanilla.”
You laughed at his witty joke, both of you watching Kendall as she did a body shot off of the hockey player she was kissing two seconds ago. She was dressed in the same tube top and bubble skirt set you were wearing, complete with the knee-high boots and matching headpiece; hers a whipped white color, yours a cocoa brown.
From the other side of the room, Tucker and Logan were talking when the former spotted you chatting with the tall football player.
Tucker nudged Logan, “Yo, is that your girl?”
Logan followed his line of sight and it landed on you, leaning against the kitchen counter and speaking to the good-looking stranger with an easy smile on your lips.
Logan looked away and gulped down his beverage. “She’s a big girl.”
Logan wasn’t one of those insecure, pompous boyfriends. He didn’t do jealousy. He’s convinced jealousy was invented by a short dick man with an easily bruised ego. Logan was secure enough in his relationship with you to never have any reason to feel jealous.
You turned to the jock and gave his costume a once-over. Knitting your brows together, you racked your brain’s storage full of pop culture references and iconic fictional characters.
“Timothée Chalamet in Call Me by Your Name?” You tried.
He let out a huff of laughter, “Close. I’m Luca from the Disney-Pixar movie.”
“Ahh,” you nodded. “Practically the same.”
He flashed a charming smile, dragging a sip from his bottle. He extended his hand to you, “James.”
You shook his hand and told him your name.
“Pretty name,” he responded. “Though…” he leaned in closer, “…cupcake fits better, don’t you think?”
Ah. At that, you picked up that he was attempting to flirt with you. Forever loyal to your boyfriend, you opened your mouth to turn his advances down. But before you could, you felt an arm wrap around your waist from behind and find purchase on your hipbone. You knew who it was without even looking.
“Hey, got you a refill,” Logan said, taking the half empty can from your hands and replacing it with a new one.
“Thanks,” you said. As your hand moved to pop the can open, Logan’s deft fingers beat you to it and he cracked the tab for you.
The football player, James, eyed the two of you, biting his lip whilst reconfiguring his whole plan. “You’re both…?”
“Air signs,” Logan teasingly remarked with a straight face, casually drinking from his red solo cup. You elbowed him with a small smirk.
“No,” James shook his head. “I mean—”
“Together,” Logan told him, putting his now empty plastic cup down on the counter. His newly freed hand joined the other by holding onto your other hip and giving it a squeeze.
James nodded to himself. “Got it.” And away he went. Probably off to find his Alberto.
Logan’s eyes followed his retreating figure, not easing up until he was out of sight. Only then did he drop his hands off your body.
You turned around and looked up at your boyfriend with a wide smile. “What was that?”
“What was what?” He returned, pouring himself a new drink.
“That whole thing,” you responded.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?” You repeated.
Logan shrugged. “A normal interaction, no?”
“He was flirting with me before that.”
“Oh so you’re aware.”
Your expression dropped. Oh, is that why—
“Logan.”
“Hm.”
“Logan.”
“Hm?”
You tilted his face down to look at him. “I wasn’t going to entertain it.”
“I know,” he replied.
“I was going to shut it down right before you showed up.”
“I know.”
“I want to make sure you know that.”
“And I know that.”
You squinted your eyes. This was suspiciously too easy. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
You stared at one another for a beat longer than necessary.
“You’re still upset,” you observed.
“I’m not upset,” he answered.
“So what are you feeling?” You asked.
“I don’t like how he called you cupcake,” Logan told you.
“Me neither. Not when I’m so clearly chocolate.”
“I’m being serious.”
“So am I.”
“Y/n.”
You sighed softly, “Okay, sorry. I thought humor would make it better.”
Your fingers curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, hoping to relieve some of his tension. It worked. A little.
“It was a shitty pickup line,” you said. “Wouldn’t work on me even if I was single.”
“I hope so.”
“Oh, please, Logan. Take me out the back and shoot me if you ever see me falling for that,” you commented. He let out a small laugh. That’s progress
His hands returned to your hips and he pulled you closer. Your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. His large hands rested just above your ass.
“What if I called you that?” Logan said lowly.
“Wanna give it a try?” You offered.
He leaned in, his lips hovering right by your ear. You could feel his warm breath fanning over your sensitive flesh. “Would you be into that, cupcake?” He whispered, ending it with a gentle nibble on your earlobe.
You shivered, feeling goosebumps crawl over your skin. “Fuck, I guess you have to take me out back with a gun, Logan.”
He pulled back with a hearty chuckle. You gave a matching smile and he held your face, brushing his thumb across your cheekbone.
As he looked at you, his face turned thoughtful for a moment. You squeezed his hand reassuringly.
He leaned in again. “I didn’t like how he looked at you.”
“How’d he look at me?” You wondered.
“Like how I look at you.”
You stared up at him, biting your lip. “And how do you look at me?” You whispered.
He brought his forehead against yours, gazing deep into your eyes. “Like I want you.”
Oh screw your sexy boyfriend and his even sexier responses. And that’s exactly what you wanted to do now—if only you weren’t in the middle of Beau and Dean’s birthday bash.
You had enough of this game. You raised yourself up and pressed your lips to his. Logan was hungry; he seemed to devour your kiss, swallowing every soft sound you made. His hand strayed down to grip your ass, the other held your waist comfortably. His tongue was already begging to enter your mouth, and you obliged without hesitation.
When you pulled away several moments later, Logan chased your lips with eagerness, gently biting your bottom lip as you separated.
“Mine,” he breathed out under his breath.
You bared a dazed smile, “I only want you.” You mouthed silently.
Logan let out a soft sound of amusement, nodding more to himself than to you. Satisfied and high off your impromptu makeout session, he pressed one last kiss to your forehead before rejoining his friends, this time with a protective hand on the small of your back.
The money I’d pay to have Jason Todd shirtless, on his stomach with sweatpants hanging low while I straddle his slutty waist and leave hickeys all over his back, and munch on his shoulders like he’s my favourite snack, and mess up his hair with my fingers, and give him neck kisses that would make him groan, and squeeze his biceps because they’re so big—
Summary: What happens when an unknown alien species invades Metropolis and take you captive to a planet with a red sun. In the wake of your capture, Jason discovers there’s not much he won’t do to get you back.
Pairing: Jason Todd x Kent!Reader
Word Count: 14.1k
Content Warning: Clark & Lois daughter!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, cursing, Jason crashing out low(high)key, yearner!jason final boss, Clark finds out about the relationship, depictions of violence, vomit, kind of dark?, reader has hair, cursing, dual pov, no use of y/n
A/N: As promised after spain won the world cup i hope you enjoy :) this is for this request I’m so sorry this has been sitting in my inbox for three months😭 (part 2 of Tonight’s going to be fun, but can be read as a standalone)
•───────•°•☀︎•°•───────•
For all the chaos that this city found itself at the center of, Metropolis could be surprisingly peaceful sometimes. Today, for example, was beautiful.
The park echoed with chirps of critters hidden in their homes under the grass, the sun beamed on the landscape with mercy, and the wind passed through like a long lost friend. Children ran around the playground of the park with crowns and swords of a birthday that would be immortalized in a photo album. Parents supervised under the shaded area where they traded stories of a nine to five they pretended to enjoy.
And then, there was you.
Your mother suggested that you take the boys out to the park today, a chance for them to have a normal afternoon.
Well, as normal as two preteen superheroes can have.
Jonathan Kent and Damian Wayne somehow managed to be perfect antonyms and synonyms of each other. They stood and fought for the same mission- the same goal acting as a north star, and yet they still managed to approach it entirely different.
It’s what makes them work so well together.
Watching them play around on the open field of the park is almost funny. They’re not good at normal, a consequence of who they are and how they were raised, but they still manage to have their own fun. Damian’s trying to teach Jon how to do a handstand. It’d be easy really, Jon can fly and levitate himself to hold his feet while propping himself on his hands; but Damian wants him to learn how to incorporate his arms, abs, and center of gravity.
If you were to guess, this is influenced from the Dick Grayson school of gymnastics.
Bruce dropped Damian off at your apartment around eleven and thanked you thrice for watching him. Jon had spent the night at your apartment the night before since your parents were having their monthly date night, and it was now your turn to babysit since Kon watched him the past three times. You played Overcooked together and fought in ways you hadn’t since you were kids, but it was nice. Nostalgia hit you like a train at one point when you looked over at him and saw an eleven-year-old, and not the baby that stumbled around in diapers because he refused to wear clothes.
Then today when Damian arrived, you decided to take them out on the town. You went and got an early lunch, took them to an arcade before they got bored, and your mom suggested the park as an afterthought.
Which is how you find yourself on the bench holding two cups of melted ice cream.
It seemed as though the world wanted to punish you for sneaking some of Jon’s -now- liquid cotton candy ice cream when the ground begins to shake. You barely have a second to react before the sun disappears and a shadow falls over Metropolis in a cruel twist of the day.
Shooting to your feet, your head falls back while the wind whips around you ripping leaves from trees, and you see a spaceship hovering over the park.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” you can’t help but mumble to yourself, tossing the cups of liquid sugar into the black can next to your bench.
The boys glance at you expectantly, eyes hard as stone ready for an assignment. Your heart cracks right down the middle at the sight. They weren’t supposed to be concerned about this, saving the city wasn’t supposed to fall on the shoulders of two kids. They were supposed to just have a fun day hanging out, goofing around in the summer sun.
For some odd reason, that never seemed to be in the cards for any of you.
Accepting defeat, you look around and in the distance you spot an alleyway. You motion with your hands for them to follow and they’re at your side in an instant. Families scream behind you as parents shield their crying children- attempting to preserve the innocence you all were never granted. The two sets of footsteps behind you ring like a death march in your ears as the boys follow your lead.
It didn’t matter what happened here today, they had to make it out. It was a promise you made to yourself, your parents, Bruce, and Jason.
Reaching the back alley, it’s a ghost town while you attempt the quick change. Your outfit took from Aunt Kara’s, just without the skirt. After one bad experience of it getting caught in a pole, you opted for shorts instead.
When they’ve finished changing, you dedicate a hand to each of them to rest on their respective shoulders. Mustering the most intense and serious expression you can, your eyes shift from each of their faces.
“You follow my lead okay? Under no circumstance do either of you go off-book today. If I say go- you go. Understood?”
Jon nods instantly, he always took your word as law being his older sister. You weren’t concerned about him improvising- it was Damian. It wasn’t so much of him having a habit of disobeying orders, but having his own plan that he knew would work. You didn’t fault him for it, you just couldn’t have him in harm’s way, not today- not if you had anything to say of it.
He doesn’t agree right away, his green eyes fight yours in a silent chess match of expressions. You’re sure he’d hate it if you told him, but he took after Jason in more ways than he’d be comfortable knowing. He had the same twitch in his jaw when he had to agree with something he didn’t like, the same squint of the eye when he tried reading people, it was almost comical to you how similar they were despite not being related by blood.
“Please,” you attempt a different approach- a more gentle one, “I promised him I would keep you safe and I won’t be able to deescalate this if I’m worried about you following your own plan.”
You don’t have to say who “him” is, yet you’re positive he’s able to put two and two together. Jon will think it’s Bruce since he still doesn’t know about you and Jason, but Damian knows the reality of it.
“You do not have to worry about me, I have handled threats triple the size of this- I have wiped out armies.” His chin juts up, as if he can summon a growth spurt that’ll make him eye level with you.
Terrorized screams are echoing into the alleyway and you don’t have much time. The sound from the projected air of the propeller’s is deafening, trees are threatening to rip from the ground and go flying; yet, you can’t bring yourself to go without ensuring that they will be safe.
“Sorry kiddo, call it eldest daughter syndrome- but I’m in charge of you. So, worrying’s kind of a non-negotiable, it’s gonna happen. Can you please just promise me this- just this once?”
Your eyes drain the demand from it and fill with a plea, and he seems to notice it. The clock was ticking and desperation was the your last act of trying to get this kid to agree. With a heavy heart and a deep sigh, he nods his head to agree with a moody drawn out “fine.”
Not wasting another second, you turn your attention back to Jon and cock your head to Damian so he’ll carry him to the roof. Your brother nods and the other boy crosses his arm, upset with the embarrassing arrangement.
Shooting off into the air, they’re close behind you. The air rushes through your ears and you deeply regret not bringing a hair tie. You didn’t even want to think about what the detangling process was going to look like after today. Maybe you could convince Mom to do it for you if you got a thick enough gash.
Observing from the roof top, you attempt to dissect the scene from the park. Jon’s still holding Damian, and you can tell they’re antsy for instructions. Leading was never your forte, too much fell on the shots that were called. It was a responsibility you never felt confident in.
You’ve got all of two seconds to really take in the scene and a list forms in your head. Androids on ground. Families in park. Soldiers in air. Guns being loaded.
It’s okay. You can do this.
“Robin, Superboy,” their heads whip in your direction anticipating their first orders, “Go to ground level and get the civilians to safety, neutralize the androids in the process- but civilian safety is top priority.”
“On it.” Jon affirms.
“Heard.” Damian turns his head to the action, already planning his path.
As they head back down to the park, you turn your attention back to the sky. There was no way for you to fight the battleship without causing property damage, leaving that option out of the question. Then there were the soldiers, front line meant being the first to go.
Launching off the ledge you were perched on, you make contact with the alien race for the first time.
They were purple with scaled skin. Most of them were covered head to toe in bright blue armor, but they had weak points around their elbows. The armor pads left an opening in the pieces that linked the forearm and bicep together. You could tell by the way they were watching Jon and Damian handle the androids, that they were trigger happy. Fingers dancing on the button that would satisfy their sick desire to become monsters.
So, you squint your eyes to focus on the targets and shoot them with your heat vision, severing their forearms from their bodies.
You got about through two of them, before the rest of the legion in the air caught sight of you. It turned into an all-out war. It was moments like these that superhearing felt like a blessing and a curse.
On one hand, you could hear Jon and Damian calling out to each other. Making sure that the other was safe while working together. On the other hand however, every time a shot was fired, you could feel it in your bones. It was overstimulation at its finest.
In the end, you attempt to not dismember most of the soldiers- wanting to avoid a talking too about violence from dad. Your peace negotiation with yourself involved melting most of the guns onto their hands. Leaving them useless and incapable of harming anyone, without punching someone with their new metal hands forged together.
By the time you’d finished, Damian and Jon had handled most of the androids below and gotten the families to safety. You were about 100 feet in the air, while Damian rested on the roof of the shaded area of the playground, with Jon hovering in between you two.
A giant door opens from the bottom of the ship. Three more of the purple aliens come out, but with more distinct armor. If you were to guess, the one in the middle has to be the one in charge. His helmet has three spikes and isn’t bright blue, it’s more of a navy color that contrast the purple scales in a better light.
“I am Ulgod,” he announces, stepping onto a little pad that floats him to a few yards away from you, “I am the General of War from planet Emuphus in the Alatheia Nebula System.”
The men to either of his sides are holding guns similar to the ones that the soldiers were holding. Every ounce of restraint coursing through your veins was going into not declaring war, and melting them into their hands. There was something off about the ones that they were holding however. There was a neon green glow coming from the middle that the others didn’t have.
“We come in search of the Kryptonians.”
Of-fucking-course.
He’s staring you dead in the eye and you meet his bug-like beady ones. The helmet ensured that you don’t know what their expressions are, but you’re positive that this one isn’t a happy one. Nothing good ever came from an spaceship arriving, destroying a bunch of shit, and then demanding your family.
After a deep breath you decide to reply, “And what is it you seek with the Kryptonians, General Ulgod?”
“Well it is simple, we demand that they come with us to our planet.”
“Why?” your eyes have narrowed into slits at the demand. It wasn’t necessarily unheard of, but you’re not entirely sure if you want the answer to your question.
“That is a matter that we will speak of on our planet.” his voice booms with the rasp. It reminds you of the cashier at the corner store mom sends you too. This guy sounds like he’s been smoking a pack a day for twenty years.
“Then I’m afraid the request cannot be granted. The Kryptonians will not follow you blindly to a planet for a boon they know nothing of.” One of these days you were going to have to thank Jason for reading you so many classics. It really helped make you sound professional in the face of death. There was no way this guy actually thought that you were about to go to some random planet from god knows where to do god knows what, because he simply demanded.
His lip curls up at your response and a shiver runs down your spine.
“Oh you are mistaken my dear lady,” his rasp echoes in between you both, “I am not asking.”
Then he lifts his left arm up to a ninety degree angle, and the soldier to his side responds instantly. The gun fires and you feel what the neon green substance was from their gun, when the bullet pierces the air.
Kryptonite.
It all happens in slow motion, and you almost throw up as the scene plays frame by frame.
Because they don’t aim at you. No.
They aim at Jon.
Your head whips down to look at him and you shoot off in his direction, racing the bullet. He doesn’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. Damian’s too low to reach him or try to get him out of the way.
You reach Jon mere milliseconds after the bullet pierces his thigh and his scream haunts the park. You’ve been hit with it once before and Jon, thankfully, has had minimal exposure to it until now.
The noises from his throat are guttural and sound as if they’re being ripped from him. The chemical infects his blood stream almost instantly. You catch him before he falls from the sky and gently ease him to the floor where Damian is waiting for you both. Your hands start fretting and you can’t think straight. Not when your baby brother is thrashing around and gasping from being shot.
Pushing the hair from his forehead, he’s already started sweating. He’s groaning in your arms and his features contort on his face with small whimpers of pain.
“Hey, hey- it’s going to be okay,” you try to comfort him as your hand falls on his cheek and he leans into it, “we’re going to get you help okay? Just need you to stick around a little longer, it sucks I know but take deep breaths for me.”
You’re fingers go back into carding through his hair for a split second, allowing yourself to comfort your him before turning to Damian. You don’t know what expression is on your face, but the poor boys straightens instantly.
“Get him to my mom. Dad’s at an interview and she’s working remote today, so she’ll be in the apartment.” your tone comes out hard and the words are final, leaving no room for debate, “She has a better chance of getting ahold of my dad so, they can get him to the fortress.”
“I cannot leave you with them, you are what they want.” his eyes are on Jon’s worsening state, but he speak with the logistics of the scenario. He has a point, but you meant what you said in the alley. They came first, and you’re already on one casualty, you’re not about to have another.
“Robin,” his eyes finally leave Jon’s to glance at you again, “I’m not asking. It’s going to get worse from here if he doesn’t get help. So, please, I need you to do this for me.”
He doesn’t look happy with the arrangement of abandoning you with the people who are dead set to kidnap you, but he nods regardless. He knows as well as you do the realities of Kryptonite poisoning. It’s not just exposure, it’s in his blood stream. And you just had the luck of it being a cloudy day.
Looking back to Jon again, he’s paling by the second an your heart shatters in the middle of the park. Smoothing the hair from his forehead one last time, you drop a kiss to it. Your brain floods with all the memories from when he was just a baby; his first waddles around the apartment, his first word being an abbreviation of your name, meeting him in the hospital, and then waking up to check on him in the middle of the night, just to find him floating three feet above his crib.
“You’re going to be just fine Jonny. Robin’s going to take you to mom, and she and Dad are going to get you all better.”
He nods weakly at your whisper. Before handing him off to Damian, you take the watch from his wrist. Dad gave it to him as a tracking mechanism since he had a habit of running off with his bat counterpart.
Just in case, is what you told yourself, but deep down you knew where this was going to go.
Damian takes Jon from your arms and starts running in the direction of your parent’s apartment.
You don’t turn to the Emuphuians until the boys are out of your sight. The general had been on some tangent about his planet and the warriors with some other bullshit you blocked out. The second you turn your attention back on him, you notice his lips are still curled and there’s about a hundred more soldiers waiting for you.
And with one hand motion from the purple-scaled devil, they all fly to your direction.
Having enough of your peaceful attempts that your father always implored you to use, you shoot off to meet them halfway.
You entered something of a trance after making contact with the first one. It wasn’t as much as you felt yourself in the moment, and more so of watching yourself.
You didn’t feel the punches or the other bullets pelting you. You didn’t remember ripping the limbs off the soldiers. You didn’t feel the heat from slicing half the soldiers in half. You didn’t hear as bodies kept falling to the floor of the park.
None of it felt real. It wasn’t as much of a memory as it felt watching a biography from your worst moments.
All you knew -the only thought that consumed your mind- was that they were going to pay. They were going to pay for the crime of shooting your little brother.
You only come back to your body once you’ve ripped the arms off the last soldier and his body falls beneath you to the park. The bloodshed was horrific and you fight the bile rising in your throat at the scene below.
Your fingers, your arms, your legs, your torso, was coated in the blood of these soldiers. You could’ve cried. They were people at the end of the day. They were merely following orders and probably had a family to go back to. They answered to the crimes of their brother.
Guilt pooled in your stomach along with the anxiety of having to have your father after this, but that was a problem for later.
“Those were your so called best soldiers?” maybe taunting the general that had two guns loaded with Kryptonite wasn’t the best choice of the hour, but you earned that right.
“I have more waiting in the hanger if you wish for another round.” Ulgod sneers in your direction.
The mountain of purple bodies and yellow blood was already a sight to bear. You knew you could take them, you could handle them all, but it would only mean war.
The last thing Metropolis needed was another alien invasion.
So, you decide on plan B.
A plan that not only your mother- but Jason would surely kill you for.
“Alright Ulgod,” you drop the limbs you were holding of the last soldier to the floor, “I am the first-born of Kal-El, granddaughter of Jor-El, a descendant of the House of El from planet Krypton.”
You’re positive he knew this. Galaxies across the universe had heard of the last surviving Kryptonian. If he did his homework, he would’ve recognized the symbol on your chest, but introductions are necessary- at least when you’re getting kidnapped.
“I will go with you to planet Emuphus, so long as you swear to leave this planet peacefully and never return.” you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for this moment, “Those are my terms.”
Your heart is about to beat out of your chest. It’s horrific and the selfish part of your brain hopes he’ll decline and you’ll get to stay. It would mean another pretty shitty battle, but at least you’ll be at home and with your family.
Jon’s watch starts to beep on your wrist.
Dad’s calling.
Tears prick at your eyes with relief.
That means they’ve got Jon. He’s probably trying to figure out if you need the assist, but you’ve given your
terms. There’s nothing you wouldn’t give to answer the call, even if it was just to say you loved him one last time. Who knows when you’ll get the chance again.
“Alright Ms. El,” the general nods as you fight temptation, “I agree to your terms. Let us make haste and depart.”
And with that, you take one last look at the golden globe that watches over Metropolis.
One last view of home.
Not stalling another second, you fly toward them and they lead you toward the hanger. Slapping heavy cuffs to your wrists, you decide not to mention that they don’t affect you. That is until the general’s right hand men stand closer and you gasp for air.
The compartment to reload their guns was open, exposing you to kryptonite.
This was about to be a long flight.
•───────•°•☀︎•°•───────•
Jason has never been this anxious to drive back into the cave.
He’d been MIA for about a week on the mission with the outlaws. It was absolute radio silence on every end and it was killing him.
The moment Kori dropped him off in Gotham, he called you. He tried not to let it bother him that it went straight to voicemail.
Twice.
He tried to justify it to himself that you might have been working on something and shut your phone off, or fell asleep. He called out your name as he drove, hoping that it would wake you. No matter how much you denied it, he knew that you always were listening for him. The worst started to creep in on his mind when he still heard nothing, but he attempted to not let himself dwell on it.
Hopping on the motorcycle, he shoots off into the night. It was quarter to five and he was positive no one but Bruce would be in the cave. It was Thursday which meant it was Tim’s night off, Dick was still in Blüdhaven, and there was school tomorrow so Damian would probably be in bed.
Which meant the report would be easy. Give Bruce the file, cover the main points, shower, and go home where he could try calling you again.
What he didn’t expect, was to drive into the cave to see all his siblings, and almost all the Kents surrounding the panel.
They all turn to look at him, with different expression on their face, but all with the same underlying emotion.
Dread.
He freezes for barely a second, before straightening his back and propping up the kickstand. Clark was the only one that seemed to not be giving him a second-thought. Which was the smallest form of reassurance he could hold onto. Everyone knows you’d kill him if he was the reason your dad found out about you two.
Before anyone can greet him or open his mouth, he notices the way Clark’s holding onto Lois’s hand. They’re gripping onto each other like they’re the only solid thing on the planet. Conner’s hand is rubbing at Lois’s shoulder and she holds onto it with her spare one. The sight of Kara winds him. She’s standing to the right of Clark with her arms crossed over her chest ready for war.
That was the first indication that something was wrong. Neither you or Jon was here and all of the sudden, Jason can’t breathe.
Stephanie is the first to realize it. It couldn’t have been more than ten seconds from when Jason entered the cave to roaming over the whole scene, but he knows in his heart that something’s wrong. And when the blonde’s eyes soften, he knows he’s right.
“How’d the mission go?” she tries to broach a topic that seems safe, but he doesn’t fall for it.
She’s rocking from her toes back to her heels. Cass is standing next to her without the cowl, examining him like a doctor at a physician’s office. Tim’s opposite of Steph but he won’t look at Jason. He’s glancing to the side watching a small light flicker on a map that’s displayed on the batcomputer.
The most damning part of this, is Dick. He’s standing still, almost like a statue. The sight has Jason on the verge of jumping straight into fight or flight. The only time in his life that he saw Richard Grayson stand still was at Alfred Pennyworth’s funeral. Barbara’s next to him in her wheel chair, holding his hand.
Then there’s Bruce. He’s in the middle of everyone. Damian’s behind him in the chair, not even turning around.
“Fine,” his bites on down on his molars when he answers Steph, trying not to bark at anyone, “what happened?”
Silence.
No one says anything. The only noise that echoes around the cave is the awkward shift of shoes. Even the bats at the roof of the cave have taken solace in the moment. In that second, the only person that bothers to hold eye contact with him is Bruce. He’s not wearing his cowl so he can see every micro expression he thinks he’s hiding.
He sees the flicker of sympathy that passes across his features, the wrinkle in his eyebrows softening as they pull apart. He sees the subtle movement of his jaw hardening again. It’s the face he makes when there’s bad news. He’s trying to figure out how to explain it, without causing Jason to go off the deep end. He’s been on the receiving end of it more times in his life than he’s willing to admit.
“What happened?”
The words don’t sound as much as a question as they do a demand. He’s tried breaking the habit of acting like an asshole -really he has- but it’s not funny anymore. His heart in his throat and he’s not sure his stomach was even in his body anymore.
Damian finally turns around at that, and he sneaks a look at Jason. Guilt drowns his features. Jason’s positive he’s about to start hyperventilating. These have been the longest two minutes of his life. He feels like he’s dying all over again.
All he knows is that most of his girlfriend’s family is here at a time they really shouldn’t be, and no one is looking at him or answering questions.
Damian straightens with the eye contact, something like honor bleeding into his posture.
“Spit it out kid.” Jason’s eyes narrow.
And when no one responds or even looks at him besides his father and youngest brother, Clark snaps. Confusion ate at him and he’s sick of everyone dancing around the fact that his daughter is gone.
“They took her.”
Jason almost snaps his neck when he hears the words. He’s sure all the oxygen on the planet has depleted.
His mind can’t wrap itself around the idea. Nothing makes sense, but everything falls into place. He instantly understands and he wishes he didn’t. He doesn’t move much, yet the world tilts on its axis. He’s not really comprehending anything at the moment.
He doesn’t believe it at first. Looking past Clark’s hard expression to Lois, he processes it and almost crumbles. She’s holding herself tall, but the bags under her eyes with tear stains on her cheeks almost kill him. Clark didn’t say a name, but he knew. Only one “her” was missing from the Super and Bat bunch right now.
With a small nod from Lois, confirming his worst nightmare- he throws up.
Not a little- not a small batch of spit. No, his stomach decided to reverse itself in that moment. His lunch, dinner, and snack before being dropped off escape through his mouth. He couldn’t even manage the decency to turn around and try to shield himself from everyone.
At first he bent over but remained on his feet, with his hands on his knees. After a minute of his stomach not pausing the process of emptying itself, he fell to one knee and Dick rushed to his aid.
This used to happen a lot when he was Robin. When he got really anxious or couldn’t handle some news, he’d throw up. Bruce took him to Leslie once at twelve when he threw up so hard he fainted. All she found was that this was just a physical symptom to his anxiety. Dick used to sit with him in the bathroom sometimes afterward. He’d get so embarrassed from throwing up that he’d cry, and Dick would rub his back and tell him stories about when he did stupid shit or embarrassing stories about Bruce.
For a second, he was tempted to cry. He was tempted to fall into the arms of his older brother and not have to think about how the love of his life was gone.
After a few more minutes of dry heaving on the floor and Steph bringing him a glass of water, he ends up throwing up again. He ends up sitting on the floor in front of his bile. He should be embarrassed, in any other moment he would be. But all he’s focusing on right now is taking deep breaths, making the grandest effort to keep the water down.
If Clark was confused before, he wasn’t sure what covered this. Momentarily putting a pin in their crisis, Jason hears him turn to Bruce and ask if he’s okay. He’s not exactly sure what he says to Clark, but it’s something miniscule to ease his concern.
Jason’s still flat on his ass when Bruce approaches him. His elbows are propped on his knees, hands in his hair, and face angled toward the floor. Dick’s still rubbing his back, and Jason’s eyes are boring into the glass of water like it has the solution for this.
Kneeling in front of him. Bruce places a hand on his shoulder. It takes about ten seconds before Jason can look at him, and he’s thankful that there’s not a sympathetic expression on his face. He can tell from his posture that he’s being empathetic but Bruce’s face is a blank slate letting him mold into what Jason needs.
And what he needs is to be slapped into reality.
“WHAT? HIM?!”
Clark’s voice echoes through the cave and everyone whips in his direction. Jason looks to his left, only to see that Clark’s eyes are already onhim. By the expression on his face and the sympathetic look Lois and Conner are giving him, he already knows what Lois said to him. It’s almost enough to make him start dry heaving again.
This night just got a hell of a lot longer.
When he hangs his head again, ready to throw up the water he spent a minute trying to drink, Dick pulls his hair hard.
“Nope- we’re not doing that!” his grip doesn’t let up as he tries to overcorrect all the negativity in the cave.
Jason tries to pull his arm away from his hair, and Dick dodges only to pulls harder. In ten minutes he knows he’ll be thankful for him trying to get him out of this hole his brain is trying to bury himself in, but right now he’s about to kill him.
“Hey- DICK, stop!”
He only lets up when Bruce raises an eyebrow at him. When Dickface’s hands finally leave his hair, he rubs at that patch he was gripping on to try and ease the sting. Bruce’s eyes are still on him trying to gage where he’s at, wanting to meet him in the middle. It’s another few seconds before Bruce tries talking to him again.
“I’m going to give you the facts, can you handle that right now?”
Clark’s still sputtering behind them, and Jason weights his options.
He knows he’s hit rock bottom when he’d rather deal with Bruce’s explanation, than confronting his missing girlfriend’s father.
He nods his head and Bruce takes a deep breath, still gripping his shoulder.
“There was an invasion in Metropolis three days ago.” Jason already feels himself starting to get sick again, but tries to power through, “She was with Jon and Damian at the park when it started. They were fighting back trying to make peace, and then they shot Jon with Kryptonite in the thigh. Your brother took him to the Kent’s to ensure his condition wouldn’t worsen. And she… took care of the remaining soldiers.”
“That’s one way to put it.” Conner snorts from where he’s still trying talk Clark down.
Jason looks over at the situation he’s desperately trying to avoid with a raised eyebrow.
“Conner stop.” Tim scolds, trying to motion for him to read the room.
Clark still looks like he’s about to explode, but it’s more confusion than anything else. He can’t say that he blames him.
You’re sunlight in human form and Jason is… to put it frankly, the opposite. He’d be lying if he didn’t think about it every day- about how on earth he got lucky enough that you chose him, that you wanted him. He still doesn’t get it. For everything that Jason Todd had gotten wrong in his life, you were the one thing he got right. He never let himself risk it, you were the only thing that mattered to him. The only person that had full and complete faith in him. You allowed him to fall in love with the idea of life again. You taught him how to live in a world that was dead set on making him survive, and for that, he’d thank every star in the sky that led him to you.
And now? Now you’re gone.
If it wasn’t for the fact that he made a promise to you and Bruce that he’d be better, every single person who was involved in this would be six-feet under by sunrise.
“What’s he talking about?” Jason mumbles turning his attention back to Bruce.
“Well,” Bruce’s cheek’s fill with air and he exhales slowly, trying to think of the best way to frame it.
“She kind of killed all of them, it was pretty morbid actually. There were like piles and piles of aliens in the middle of Metropolis park. Kind of badass th-”
“Thank you Stephanie, that’s enough.” Bruce cuts in, “But yes, she handled the eminent threat to Earth. Jon is at the Kent farm now to finish healing, he will make a full recovery. However, the Emuphuians -the alien’s that invaded- came in search of a Kryptonian. We are unsure of why, but we know that she went with them. She agreed to go with them, so long that they left Earth peacefully and never returned.”
Jason’s really trying not to get sick all over again. His nightmare just got ten times worse. You went with aliens who have kryptonite and aren’t afraid to harm you, for a reason you don’t know, and to some planet none of you have ever been to or heard of before. Hell, he doesn’t even know if you’re still alive.
That thought has him about to hyperventilate and Bruce sees it. He’s almost convinced that Bruce can read minds, because he instantly starts comforting him.
“Try not to stress out, she’s alive-”
That’s when Jason breaks. Shooting to his feet, his vision tilts but he can’t hold back any longer.
“Try not to stress? B did you hear anything of what you just said to me?” Jason’s arms are flailing and Bruce stands to meet him in the middle, again, “I was away for a week on a mission and I come back to find out that my girlfriend has been taken by an alien race to fuck knows where to do who knows what to her.”
At the word girlfriend, Clark seems to finally snap back into reality.
“So it is true?”
Jason squeezes his eyes. This has got to be the most overwhelming night he’s had in a while. He’s grateful that Clark doesn’t sound accusatory, he merely hums and starts eyeing Jason up again.
To be honest, Jason didn’t want it to go like this. If it was up to him, he would’ve told Clark straight away, but you had this whole thing about not wanting to do it so he respected it. He wasn’t one to talk anyway, he kept it from his whole family. When he went to meet Lois for the first time he brought flowers and helped cooked dinner. He was oddly traditional about that stuff. He promised himself he wouldn’t mess it up- not with you. He had to do it right.
“Yes sir,” Jason finally looks him in the eye for the first time since he found out, “it wasn’t my idea to keep it a secret-”Dick scoffs and Jason shoots him a look, “-It wasn’t my idea to keep it a secret from them, Dickhead.”
Turning back to Clark, he notices that he’s still baffled on why his daughter is dating him. “Believe me sir, I wish this could’ve happened under better circumstances, I would’ve presented myself with a little more grace.”
Tim can’t bite back the snort at Jason calling Clark sir repeatedly.
They’d met before, they were on a first name basis with each other during missions and when he visited the manor. Jason grew up around him, and Clark was the one who talked Bruce off his high when Jason died. He can’t have imagined he wouldn’t have been surprised to see how their lives continued to be intertwined.
He can’t help but think how complicated shit’s gotten. If you had told thirteen-year-old Jason Todd that he was going to be dating Superman’s daughter, he would’ve laughed in your face.
Now here he is, trying to talk himself out of throwing up again at confronting his girlfriend’s father, who just so happened to be Superman.
This has to be every guy’s worst nightmare.
“Okay son, we can talk about this later.”
Jason has to bite his tongue and all the Bat’s eyebrows shot to the moon. Jason was notorious for hating being called “son.” It was a huge problem when he came back. Bruce tried calling him it and Jason would fly off the deep end, but right now he just kept reminding himself that it’s a southern charm thing.
Turning back to Bruce, his eyebrows are still raised, but something like pride is resting in them. He looks so proud of him that he’s handling this and Jason is fighting every demon in his stomach right now.
Why does his body hate him so much? He couldn’t just sweat through his clothes or get light-headed like a normal person. No, he had to empty every single content in his stomach the moment the anxiety got to be too much to handle.
“Okay back to the matter at hand, we have a plan,”
Then Bruce starts explaining the whole thing, but the second he realizes that the flickering light on the batcomputer is your heartbeat, everything falls away.
The only thing that Jason Todd can focus on is getting you back. He’s now made it his life mission to save you. It was the least he could do after you saved him from himself.
So after Bruce, Tim, and Clark go on and on about the plan, all he focuses on is bringing you home.
•───────•°•☀︎•°•───────•
The trip, from what you were able to tell from Jon’s watch, took a little under two days.
The Emuphuians left earth peacefully, but in no way acted the part to you. From the moment the door closed, they exposed you to kryptonite until you’d gotten far enough from the sun to dull your powers.
They threw you in some cell in the cargo hold of the ship to spend the whole trip there. It was a little dull square, metal bars separating you from the other cells. Bringing you food and water twice a day was the only form of hospitality they offered. Nothing much happened besides that.
No one else occupied any of the other cells- well almost no one.
There was a little neon green kitten looking thing. It looked every bit a cat, except that it’s tail had a little opening at the end that shot some form of ice through it and her ears were longer than a normal earth kitten’s.
She was a sweet little thing. At first she wouldn’t get near you and shot your leg with ice once or twice. It wasn’t until you offered her some of the water the Emuphuians brought you, she realized you weren’t a threat.
It took her half of the first day for her to warm up to you. She ran around the little cell, jumping in between the bars until she flew. That was the most damning part of it all. You were positive you were hallucinating most of it, until she landed right on top of your chest and slept the night away there.
You named her Baja Blast- BB for short.
It was probably a bad idea to name her, the last thing you needed to do on this trip was to develop an attachment to something -something your father would have a stroke if he saw you come back with- but you couldn’t help it. She was so cute and kept you company for the two days you were locked in here. BB spent most of the trip experimenting with shooting ice on the floor. You ended up laying on the bench while she created an ice rink for her pleasure.
If it weren’t for her, you would’ve gone insane.
At the end of day 2, you finally feel the ship come to a stop. It jolts as it lands on the floor, sending BB into the wall.
You instantly shot to your feet to make sure she was okay, only to almost slip on her little ice rink.
She’s small enough to fit in the palm of your hand and with an annoyed growl from her, you can tell that she’s alright.
“And that’s why, we don’t make ice rinks BB” you mumble to her while petting the spot in between her ears. She doesn’t purr, you’ve noticed that’s not a habit this species partakes in, but she does nuzzle into your touch.
Turning around to go back to the bench, you hear the main door slam open. BB -the scared little thing she is- shoots up in fear and almost body slams the roof of the cell. She doesn’t come back down and a part of you can’t help but wonder why.
Maybe they don’t treat her well? The thought almost sends you spiraling to rip the heads of these soldiers off.
Ulgod isn’t the one to come retrieve you, it’s the two soldiers that he had with him. The two soldiers that seemed to enjoy their time exposing you to kryptonite.
The recovery was brutal. It was about two hours where you felt every blood cell attempting to crystalize into the green stone and your veins were mirroring BB’s fur through your skin. The fatigue hit you like a bus after too. You didn’t do much standing for the two days. It was laying on the floor or on the bench watching the kitten run around.
Even eating proved to be difficult the first two meals. Your body hadn’t recovered enough to be able to successfully chew, swallow, and digest the food.
You feel it before you see it. The planet they’ve brought you to revolves around a red sun. You had no powers here. There was no fighting your way back home. Your wrists were still bound together by the hand cuffs. You weren’t strong enough to break it, and your eyes couldn’t melt them here.
There’s a dep sigh that escapes you upon coming to terms with your fate. If they didn’t kill you, Jason was sure too. You went with a hostile species to their planet for unknown reasons just so they would leave your planet alone.
The soldiers don’t say much when they unlock your door and take you with them, and you’re a tad grateful for it. You weren’t sure you’d be able to stomach it if they began taunting you. However, they weren’t nice in the slightest. Each of them gripped your biceps with nails digging in hard enough to draw blood. Biting your tongue to hold back a wince, you continued marching forward with them.
Then as if it wasn’t enough, when you exit the cargo hold, they throw a rag over your head. Why? You didn’t’ have the slightest idea. Maybe it was so you couldn’t retrace your steps, maybe it was a customary thing.
Either way, you were annoyed.
If it wasn’t for the small sounds that you heard from above, you wouldn’t have known if BB was following you. The soldiers didn’t acknowledge her, either from lack of caring or not hearing you also didn’t know.
The walk was about ten minutes. From what you were able to tell from the different floors you felt under you; you left the ship and walked on some soil for a while where you heard murmurs of a language you didn’t understand. Presumably walking through the outskirts of a town, in order to avoid attention of the general’s new prisoner. Then you reached a stone pathway of sorts, here the soldiers traded some words and allowed you three passage inside.
Only then, do you walk on a floor that felt like a smooth tile- marble maybe? Your steps echoed in the air around you and after a few twists and turns, a grand door opens. A hush falls around the room you’ve just entered.
You take ten steps in when the soldiers let go of your biceps and kick your knees in.
And finally, they rip the rag from your head.
Allowing you to see your new environment, it takes a few blinks until you’re able to focus your vision correctly again. It’s not too bright, the room is lit by a few purple flames lining the wall and a small window on the roof.
There’s two thrones a few yards in front of you, where you can’t quite see the family because of the dim light. Squinting your eyes, you barely catch a glimpse of them before one of the soldiers pushes your head back to the floor. You were right, it did look like marble.
“Commoners are not permitted to look at the royal family.” The soldier spits in your direction while pushing on your scalp.
You deserved an award for how hard you bit your tongue. It was a miracle it hadn’t bled yet.
“Arrin, please,” a feminine voice calls from ahead of you, “she is far from a commoner.”
Arrin, the soldier you imagined was gripping onto your hair hard enough to rip out, hesitates before letting go. When he does let go, he does so with a little push that almost sends you face first into the floor.
Above you, BB growls and a little smile teases at your lips that the kitten has made it this far.
Turning your gaze back to the supposed royalty ahead of you, you still don’t get a good look at them even when you’re allowed too. They all wear light blue robes and veils over their face. They have something similar to crowns but it is a mere silver band over the veil, each with a yellow jewel rested in the middle.
“Welcome to Emuphus,” the same feminine voice rings out, “we thank you, Kryptonian, for your cooperation in joining the Emuphuian cause. We have heard great legends of the power you hold. I am Onas the queen,” she then motions to her right, “this is my husband King Elas, and our son Prince Rolim.”
You don’t say anything at first, confusion taking hold of your mind. What cause is she talking about? You weren’t even sure on why they recruited you here.
“Um hi, I am a descendant of the House of El from planet Krypton,” you weren’t sure exactly what that may have meant to them, but decided to throw it our regardless, “It’s my pleasure to be granted hospitality on your planet,” hospitality my ass, you thought to yourself but this people could kill you instantly if they wanted too, “I do not want to disrespect either of you, but I do not know why I have been brought here or what the Emuphuian cause is my lady.”
They ought to make you a diplomat with how you were shit you pulled out of your ass. Maybe hanging around Dad was starting to rub off on you.
“Ah well,” The King takes his turn to speak, “The cause we speak of is to make great warriors- warriors so legendary no one will not know our name.”
You had a feeling on where this was going and your face pales.
“We wish to create an army of Emuphuian-Kryptonian hybrids,” your jaw drops, “using your DNA and eggs.”
What. The. Fuck. Holy shit these people were insane.
You’re never relying on plan B again. This has got to be top ten worst outcomes that could’ve happened. They couldn’t have just wanted you to fight.
No, they want to take your fucking DNA.
A noise comes out of your throat you’re not sure how to describe. What you do know is that it wasn’t a good one. You start sputtering and genuinely feel as though you’re about to faint.
“I appreciate the interest- flattered truly, but I do have a boyfriend. I’m not really looking for another life partner- we’re actually really happy together he’s a great guy! His nam-”
The King holds up his hand to stop the blubbering mess that’s coming out of your mouth, and your teeth catch your cracked lips. Your heart is about to be thrown up from your mouth, you’re not even sure if you can see straight.
“We have no interest in having intercourse with you Kryptonian,” relief can’t even cover what you feel right now, he says a few words that you miss in knowing that these people do not want to impregnate you, “-rom what our doctor has told us, we understand that your body only produces eggs in the ovulation stage of the female reproductive cycle.”
That couldn’t be farther from the truth, but you’re not about to correct them. You’re not sure what the hell would happen if they find out you were already born with all your eggs, and you’re not keen on finding out.
They point toward the doctor, and translator you imagine, to their right . He seems pretty small, a little shorter than you and fairly thin compared to the other Emuphuians. They all seemed to have double the muscle mass that Jason had, and this guy looked- well, like Jon.
He only nods at the sudden attention from the royal family. Then they look expectantly to you, to confirm the information.
“Uh- yeah,” are the only words your incredibly articulate brain can manage to spew out in this moment, “unfortunately I am on day four of my period so you just missed the cut off.”
“That is alright.” Onas nods, “we have waited years to find the Kryptonians, we can wait a few weeks.”
You didn’t know what you were expecting by telling them they missed the window, but keeping you here seems to just be about the worst outcome. You weren’t hopeful enough to think they would let you go, this just wasn’t ideal.
“And how do you plan on retrieving the egg?” the question came out more sassy than you hoped, “Do you think I’m just going to agree on your plan of just cutting me open? Are you really stupid enough to think I’m going to let you take my eggs from me?”
Right when she opens her mouth, and the soldier step forward, surely to reprimand you for speaking to royalty like that, you feel it before you see it.
In the small window that rests at the roof of the throne room, you feel the color shift from the previous red sun, into a faint tinted green.
This planet has two suns.
A red one,
And a green one.
Now you remember why Dad and Aunt Kara never traveled to this system before.
It would’ve killed them.
You caught yourself before face planting into the tile, with your forearms. Your breath comes out heavy and ragged. Your veins are already turning green at the exposure again, and you’re really starting to hate life.
“To answer your question girl,” the Queen hums, “yes we do think you will let us cut you open, because there will not be much you can do to counter it.”
“This-” you heave, “will kill me,” another desperate breath, “before you get the chance.”
“No, it will not. The green sun only lights the planet for three hours for each full day. While it will drain the life from you quite quickly, it is enough to render you incapacitated, but still allow you to perform your duty.”
You barely manage to hold your head up. She has a small smirk on her face and you would spit in it if you could get closer.
“You’re sick.”
“Maybe my dear, but we do what we must to survive.”
Then without another word, she waves you off. The soldiers throw the rag over your head and haul you to your feet.
You didn’t last on your feet very long. It turned more into of the soldiers just dragging you through the castle. At the very least you still hear BB following closely behind. They don’t take you through the same route. It’s much quicker and this time you descend one floor on a staircase.
It’s two left turns and one right turn until you hear a door open. They don’t brace you for it at all before throwing you into the cell.
There wasn’t much strength left in your body, not enough to pull the rag off. So you lay there on the floor until a familiar neon green kitten bites on it and pulls.
She pulled on your scalp in the process and a small hiss escapes at the pain. But after a few tugs, she’s pulled enough off that you can see your home for the foreseeable future.
The cell is a blinding shade of white, and that’s about it. There’s a bench, a sink, a toilet, and some paper they’ve left you to wipe and use for the remainder of your period.
The depression from the situation and lack of energy keep you on the floor. You can’t even bring yourself to glance at the watch to see how much time has passed. BB has curled into you and fallen asleep there.
You can’t imagine it’s been less than two hours when you have your only other interaction of the day.
The doctor comes in and speaks to a nurse in the same language you heard while walking past the village. It’s not one you’re familiar with and not one you’ve heard Aunt Kara mention.
They hook up some monitor to wrap around your wrist. He pricks your finger for blood and doesn’t offer anything when you whimper. It’s almost odd how they don’t pay any attention to BB.
They act as though she’s not even there and you’re anxious you’ve hallucinated the poor thing. If it wasn’t for the freezing cold fur of hers, you’d be sure she was a hallucination.
Two minutes pass, when the screen he ran your blood through blinks red at him. If you were to guess, that’s what they’re using to test if you’re ovulating.
Having completed their business, they walk out without another glance in your direction. Abandoning you on the floor of a cell you’ll learn to call home.
And for the first time since they shot Jon, you cry.
It was a horrific habit, but you didn’t cry often. Being the oldest, you never wanted your siblings to see you that way. However, no one here knew you. You lost every ounce of shame you could possible have.
So you sob, you weep and curse the gods that gave you this fate. The guilt from the fight in the park. The blood that is still stained on your clothes and limbs. The concept of these people using you. The knowledge that you may never see your family again. The idea that Jason will never kiss you and laugh in the early hours of the morning again. It all bubbles over.
They could probably hear you down the hall, but there’s not much left for you to do anyway. All you can do is just sit here in the hell of your own making as your veins crystalize, and hope that someone finds you.
•───────•°•☀︎•°•───────•
It’s been eighteen days.
Eighteen long drawn out days of waiting for the monitor to go off.
It took you two days to finally stand up and wash the blood from your body. It took five to get the courage to get on the bench. It took ten to accept this.
After day fourteen, anxiety started chipping away at your stomach, waiting for the inevitable beep and check up from the doctor.
It was like clockwork. Everyday he’d come in with the nurse and take the monitor off and hook it up to his machine. And every day, it would blink red at him.
You would let out a breath of relief every time.
None of them spared you any sympathy. You weren’t expecting any, but did they have no emotions? Did they feel no guilt for the fact that they were going to tear you open and steal your future kids from you?
A lot of emotions came and went in those eighteen days. Anger, grief, distraught, and then acceptance. This was your life. And as much as you hated that this happened to you, you’d do it in every life time if it meant keeping Jon safe. You wouldn’t change a thing if it meant everyone on Earth was safe.
It wasn’t all bad anyway. BB stayed with you the whole time. She never left. You never asked them, but one day- around day six, you realized they couldn’t see or hear her. You accepted her as she was. Even if she was some figment of your imagination, it was better this than nothing.
It was all fine, everyday the screen would blink red. Everyday you’d rot for three hours, barely breathing as the green sun took you for everything you had.
You’d learned to predict the cycle.
That was until day eighteen.
The monitor on your wrist beeped around 5 in the morning.
The red sun hadn’t risen yet, but the doctor rushed to your room regardless. Your blood thundered in your ears as he pricked your finger. You were convinced these were the longest two minutes of your life.
When the screen flashes green, you gag. You actually almost managed to throw up the little food they gave you. The doctor pays you no mind, but smiles to himself instead. He speaks to the nurse rapidly, and luck seemed to finally catch up to you upon meeting your fate.
They left the cell still chattering to each other. You knew they were most likely on the way to prep the surgery. You had about seven hours until the green sun rose. Physically being able, but mentally being drained, you decided to spend the day like every other. Laying with BB until they came for the inevitable.
If the situation wasn’t so cruel it would be nice. You were offline, spending a lot of time processing your thoughts, really getting to know yourself, and you had a pet.
That’s what you tried to focus on. There wasn’t much to be positive of, but if you wallowed in pity it wouldn’t get you anywhere. You were already miserable. There was no way to sugarcoat that.
You may as well make the best of a bad situation.
The sun rises earlier today as if it was the will of the gods.
You were playing with BB, petting her as she laid on your chest, when the sudden need of air hits you. You almost toppled off the bench in desperation. The air in the cell felt as though it physically depleted for the eighteenth day in a row. You were almost used to this symptom, you’d grown accustomed to except it every other day. Yet you hadn’t prepared yourself today, it was too early.
Heaving for air, you sit up, BB flying up in front of your face. She growls at you to show how happy she was with the current predicament of changing positions.
Your hands fall forward on the bench, as you gasp for air, hunching over yourself.
That’s when the door opens again.
This time, they finally look at you for the first time since the throne room. They brought their version of a gurney. It didn’t look nearly as comfortable as the one’s on Earth. It was a metal table with some mechanics on the bottom to keep you floating.
The men he brought with him don’t even let you make an attempt to let you stand. They just pick you up and throw you on the table. Strapping you down and tying you to the table before you can even leave the room.
And then there they go again, with that fuckass rag over your head. It was really starting to get old. It wasn’t like you could do anything. They made sure of that.
The trip to the operating room wasn’t a long one. Maybe two left turns and two hallways? When the green sun rose you lost all your senses and you couldn’t tell. It was just a matter of trying to stay alive. You did know it was on the same floor as the other cells.
BB is next to your face again, you feel her head curl into your neck. At least the universe was graceful enough to offer you that small comfort. They hadn’t offered you much mercy, but for this, for this you would attempt to be grateful for.
They kept the rag over your head the whole time, not even removing it when they began the surgery. Maybe it made them feel better about themselves. If they didn’t see a face, maybe it felt less real to them.
Tears start to fall down your cheek and soak through the rag, when you a finger grace your top. They were going to pull it up and there was nothing you could do. They were going to cut you open and all you could do was fight to breathe.
The fabric is barely pulled up a millimeter when you hear the door open again. It barely slides open before shots start firing and screams echo around you. You would be anxious if you had the energy. You’d shoot up if you could breathe right.
But right now? You’re just happy that this is getting postponed.
BB stands up and starts growling when the attackers get closer.
Then, the rag is pulled off your head and you see the last person you imagined would be on this side of the galaxy.
Jason fucking Todd.
He looks destroyed and like he can breathe again all at the same time. He’s in some goofy spacesuit and he’s drinking you in like he can’t believe you’re real. One gloved palm touches your cheek and you swear his eyes are glassy through the helmet he’s wearing. The other hand interlocks your fingers, holding on as if you’ll disappear if he lets go.
“Oh my god,” you breathe out with a tired smile and fresh tears.
“Hey baby,” his voice cracks, eyes roaming over your body, “guess we’re even now.”
“I guess,” you manage your first smile in the past few weeks at the sight of him.
Relief floods you like a bucket of ice water. You’d saved Jason more times than you could count back on Earth. You always joked that he’d make it up to you one day, but you both hoped he’d never have too.
And now here you are.
“Kyle, come here and help me get her loose.”
Turning your head to the other side, you see the one and only Kyle Rayner. He’s wearing a distraught expression and you can’t help but laugh. You’re positive that you look like death incarnate.
“Got yourself into quite a mess didn’t ya?”
“Something like that yeah?” a cough escapes you while answering.
Jason starts looking around anxiously trying to get you a glass of water. Kyle’s constructing a sword to cut the ties when BB aims her tail at him, ready to shoot.
“Hey, um- is the radioactive kitten a friend of yours?”
Your head whips from your devastatingly handsome boyfriend to Kyle in surprise, “You can see her?!”
Kyle looks away from BB, to you, to Jason, then both of them turn their gaze back to you; a question and worry painted across their face.
“Yes?”
“Oh thank fuck, I thought I was going crazy,” you breathe out, looking at the roof.
“Why?”
Turning back to Jason to answer the question, “None of these people ever said anything about her, I don’t know why but they couldn’t see her. I thought I was hallucinating her.”
“Well I can assure you the neon green cat is very real, and pointing her tail at me,” Kyle has the sword raised in anticipation to deflect BB’s shots, “I’m going to assume she’s yours then.”
“Yeah, that’s Baja Blast.”
Jason snorts and has to, begrudgingly, turn his face away from you to hide the rest of his laugh when you give him a look.
“Cool,” Kyle’s still standing there with a popped hip, BB won’t let him get close to you and it’s almost sweet how protective she is, “call her off for me?”
“BB,” you turn your face and land on your right cheek. You “pst” at her before she turns her little face from Kyle to you, tail still aiming at him. You shake your head with a small smile, “He’s a friend.”
You know there’s no way that she understands you, but you hope the genuine smile and soft sound of your voice eases her. Her head merely tilts 30 degrees while you attempt to reason with her. The universe seems to intervene on her thought process, and she crawls on your chest to curl into a ball.
“Kyle go,” Jason orders from where he’s standing next to you. His hand hasn’t left yours and you highly doubt he’ll let go of you anytime soon.
Within seconds Kyle’s cut the straps loose from you on the table. If you had any energy, you’d love the new found freedom. The sun however, had different plans for you.
“Kyle take the cat.”
He looks up, appalled, at Jason, “Are you kidding me? It wants to kill me, you take it.”
“She has a name.” your words went in one ear and out the other.
“Rayner come on, Tim can only keep the comms in the castle down for a few minutes. Just grab the cat.”
Neither of them move, and if you didn’t feel like death it would be almost funny.
“Oh c’mon Kyle, she doesn’t wanna kill you,” you scoff and he finally turns to you with a raised brow, “Just maker her a nice bag to get in, like the ones they have to take to vets- preferably one with a pillow.”
“You’re serious then? About taking this thing back to Earth with you?”
“Yes.”
With a deep sigh, he constructs the travel bag for BB. With a speed that rivaled Wally’s, Jason manages to pick her up and place her in it before she’s fully woken up and growling.
“See she blends right in!”
Jason snorts and Kyle shakes his head.
Then temptation finally won out again Jason as he drops his helmet to your forehead. His eyes are shut as he allows himself to feel you, whispering an “I missed you.”
He steals a few seconds from time in that position. When he does pull back, you peer up at him. You know you look like shit, yet he still manages to make you feel like the most beautiful being in the Universe.
“I missed you too.”
“Alright, c’mon lovebirds we don’t have all day,” annoyance is evident in Kyle’s voice as he’s now been shackled with BB, “Hal’s waiting for us outside.”
Jason’s arms scoop you up from the table, slipping them on your back and under your knees. Your head falls against his chest, almost cackling at the sight of Kyle. He’s standing with a popped hip, the travel bag hanging off his elbow which has a cranky BB inside growling up a storm.
“It suits you Rayner,” you feel Jason’s chest rumble as he speaks.
“Shut it man.”
Leaving the castle was surprisingly easy- at least in how you experienced it. You’re not entirely sure how they managed it, but they must’ve timed it right to make sure that soldiers were at shift change or something. From what Jason said earlier, you imagined that Tim also had the castle comms go dark for your rescue.
You don’t remember much, the green sun had a habit of making that happen. When it would rise, you couldn’t do much of anything. The three hours it was in the sky, you just focused on keeping your body working.
Jason felt it. He felt the lifelessness in your body and held on tighter.
Neither of you knew who his tight grip was a comfort for, you, him, or both. In the whole march out of the castle, he remained whispering sweet nothings to you. The blinding white walls fading away as his gaze continuously found yours.
Your hearts could finally beat in tandem, as they were once again reunited with their other half.
A few minutes and turns later, the four of you make it outside. The air was harsh along with the light. It was the quietest you’d ever been on a mission. Even BB seemed to understand the nature of the plan and kept to herself while Kyle swung the bag ferociously.
With the sudden exposure to the green sun, you can’t hide the gasp that escapes you. You feel yourself go limp in Jason’s arms and breathing becomes thirty times more difficult.
“Hey, stay with me now,” Jason shakes you the tiniest bit in his arms, you don’t do much but groan in response, “It’s only a little while longer until we get you out of here.”
Next to you, Kyle’s calling for Hal. He couldn’t carry all of you plus himself, so Hal remained on the outside waiting to be called in.
It’s a very long and gruesome seventy-two seconds later when Hal finally descends to where the lot of you are. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the older man tilt his head toward Kyle’s arm. He goes to open his mouth and Kyle holds a hand up.
“Don’t even ask.”
You manage to smile while Hal snorts. Walking over to you, he pushes some strands of hair from your face with a tender smile.
“Hey kiddo, you ready to go home?”
You try to answer -really you do- but all you can get out is a pathetic nod. Jason’s grip tightens when he feels how weak you’ve gotten. You really wanted to get out of here soon.
Hal goes to take you from Jason, and your boyfriend hesitates. It’s only for a second, but everyone feels it. He knows that Hal’s going to help. He knows that nothing is going to happen. It’s just the idea of being parted from you again kills him. It actually tears him apart from the inside out. It’s as if someone’s ripped his veins from his body and wrapped them around his neck. He can’t breathe at the mere idea of you not being near again, but you have to go with him. He’ll get you out of here faster. He’ll get you to the yellow sun.
After a deep breath, he transfers you over to Hal in an awkward passing of arms. Giving your hand one last squeeze, his arms are horrifically empty again.
Hal doesn’t say anything to him, understanding immediately.
“I’ll meet you guys at the ship.” Are his parting words before shooting into the sky with you.
You imagine letting out a “fuck” at the sudden pressure from the flight, but you’re not sure if it actually left your lips or if it was a thought. For a second, you can’t breathe at all as the green sun gets closer. It’s like one last final “fuck you” before Hal shoots off into the other direction.
Slowly, as you get further from the green sun, you start to feel like a person again. It’s easier to breathe tucked into his chest. It brings back memories of when you used to visit the Hall of Justice as a kid. Hal and Barry used to play with you before and after meetings.
In the few times where Mom had an overlapping interview and the Kents couldn’t’ watch you, Dad used to have you tag along if you promised to be good. Planes weren’t your favorite toy, but Hal always brought you some mock ones and would sit on the floor as you created some dramatic storyline. He always went along with it too and asked questions.
Your bearings start coming back to you as the minutes pass. The ability to curl your fingers and take deep breaths without coughing return first.
Then you feel it.
Turning away from his chest, your eyes find your saving grace.
Hal lets go of you then.
It’s almost like night and day to how you were feeling a few minutes ago. It’s as if someone lit a fire inside of you. It genuinely feels like a million dollars as the yellow sun erases everything from the past three weeks.
Every ounce of kryptonite, every powerless night, every weak moment, it’s all gone. Strength pulses in your biceps and heat flows in your veins. Taking your first full breath of peace, a smile finds it’s way to your face. Your finally at 100% and you promised yourself you’d never take this for granted again.
Turning to Hal with the cheekiest grin, he lets out a sigh of relief.
“You gave us a real scare kid,” the only reason he’s not scolding you is because he knows who’s waiting for you back on Earth.
You’re not sure whether to be excited or scared to have to face your parents again.
“I know,” your arms extend in front of you while interlocking your fingers to crack your knuckles, “I’m sorry you had to come all the way out here.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that,” he waves off the apology and flies closer to you, giving you a side hug, “after all, who am I supposed to play airplanes with if something happens to you Kent.”
You snort but lean into the hug. “But really,” he starts again, “I’m happy you’re okay.”
You sigh against his chest, “Me too.”
Then, another green light catches your attention as it gets closer, a black vessel closely behind it. Instinctively, your shoulders pull back tensing, and you focus your eyes to tear it apart. A moment barely comes and goes before Hal places a hand on your shoulder.
“Hey relax,” he grips your shoulder a little harder to ground you, “It’s Kyle and Spooky.”
“Oh,” your cheeks flush with embarrassment, yet judgement never comes from him. If anything he looks like he pities you. You’re not sure that’s much better.
Kyle reaches you before the rest do. He still has BB in the bag and you full on laugh now. It’s practically a cackle as you digest Kyle with a constructed vet bag for your alien kitten. His face expresses how amused he is by the setup, which is none at all. Yet, you do notice that his lips twitch a tiny bit. After finding you in that state, it was good to see you look alive again.
When he gets closer, you fly toward him and pull him into a hug too. His arms also wrap around you with relief.
“Thank you Kyle,” you pull back and share a smile, “for everything.”
He nods graciously, “Anytime.” and you believe it.
Then BB growls, officially done with her cage. That snaps Kyle back into reality and he looks at the bag before to you again.
Without even letting him ask the question, you answer it. “You can let her out now.”
“Thank fuck.”
And with that, BB shoots off to fly into you. She’s a small little torpedo, sending you spinning back a few yards when she makes contact. Once you’re able to stabilize yourself, Hal looks concerned.
“What the hell even is that thing?” You can’t see it through his mask, but you’re sure his eyebrows have shot all the way to his hairline.
“Couldn’t tell you.” Kyle answers from his left, now crossing his arms.
“It’s my kitten, her name is Baja Blast, BB for short.” you smile while cradling her to your chest, “She found me on the trip to Emuphus and hasn’t left me since.”
They’re about to say something else when the ship reaches you. Kyle and Hal turn to look at it briefly, then turn their attention back to you.
“You should probably go in before Jason rips all his hair out.” Kyle jerks his head to where the ship remains stationary behind him.
“Won’t you guys come too?”
“We’ll be heading back first,” Hal informs you, “We’re going to give Supes and the JL the rundown so when you guys get there, you can have a nice family reunion.
“Ahh okay,” you nod along.
Before heading into the ship, you give them both one more hug and a thank you. Each of them return the hug a little tighter than they had previously.
You’re not sure who all was in the ship or what to expect, but stepping into a spaceship with Bruce, Tim, and Jason was not on your bucket list this year.
Jason’s at your side in an instant, his hand instantly finding your free one. BB’s still cradled against your chest. Looking at her almost makes you nostalgic, she’s grown in the past three weeks.
Bruce stands when you enter and instantly makes his way to you. It stunned you as he approached, you and the old man never really had many interactions, and none that were physical. So, when he pulls you into a very brief and tense hug, you’re past shocked.
Your jaw practically unhinged. Tim snickers from over his shoulder when he catches your expression.
As he backs away, you could’ve sworn you heard a sniffle.
“Clark was going to come, but we couldn’t risk any of them joining the mission because of the green sun. They would’ve become more of a liability than a help.”
Of course he didn’t address the sudden burst of emotion that overtook him. Not wanting to be insensitive, you decide to ignore it as well.
“I understand.” you nod, “Thank you Bruce- really it means a lot that you did all of this. Especially when you didn’t have too.”
“I did.” he answers with no room for debate.
“Thank you anyway.” you push it again and he does nothing but dip his chin honorably. Jason’s fingers tightens around yours again, a little reminder that you’re actually here.
Bruce steps away after that and Jason leads you to one of the benches against the wall. BB has now taken it upon herself to fly off and explore the ship. You let her have her fun, she would be fine for a few hours without you.
“I love you.” Jason rushes out when you sit next to him.
“I love you too.” You whisper, laying your head on his shoulder.
“I was scared I was never going to be able to tell you that again.”
Both of you let that sit in the air for a second, because the truth was that you were afraid of the same thing. It could’ve very easily become reality too. You decide to put that thought away before it takes advantage of your emotions.
“Me too.”
His head rests on yours and you allow your breathing to sync up. It was harmonious. His hand was still gripping yours but now he was filling up all of your senses, and you let him.
Because Jason Todd traveled across the universe for you.
Because Jason Todd risked it all for you.
Because Jason Todd loved you like it was the easiest thing in the world.
He was never one for big displays of affection, but when push came to shove. Jason didn’t blink to do anything for you.
So while you breathe each other in again for the first time in weeks, you let yourself fall asleep against the man who saved you.
•───────•°•☀︎•°•───────•
Bonus:
Arriving at the watchtower has your heart about to beat out of your chest.
Jason woke you up from the nap when you got back into the solar system. BB was now on his other shoudler, allowing you to curl into him.
When Bruce lands the ship, it hadn’t even hit the deck before he lowered the door. You stood instantly, shooting out before it finished opening. Your dad had already started flying toward the ship and you met somewhere in the middle.
His arms wrapped around you, crying in a way you’d never heard before. Then joined Aunt Kara, Conner, Jon, and your mom.
Your mom was the last to join the hug, but she somehow managed to end up right next to you. Her arms wrapped around you and the sound of her sobs pushed you to start crying too. Even though there were enough tears to fill a river, you don’t think you’ve ever been happier. Everyone you ever cared about was in an immediate radius.
With a relieved smile, you allow yourself to enjoy it. You let yourself be held and loved by the most important people in your universe.
Then as Jason approaches you all, watching from the outskirts, Lois made eye contact with him. She mouthed a thank you, and he waved it off.
He’s not sure whether to be surprised or not when she pulls him into the Kent family hug. And although he’s the tiniest bit uncomfortable, when he see you smile, everything falls away.
Because you were happy. And that’s what mattered.
•───────•°•☀︎•°•───────•
A/N: please can we pretend that people can talk in space for this and i'm sorry that the ending is rushed
As a non-white, non-Argentine person who has lived in Argentina, I am fed up with seeing this stupid propaganda of hatred towards Argentina when in the last World Cup everyone was in favor of them winning. Instead of believing everything you see on social media and spreading hate, do your research and educate yourself.
Not only does Argentina not have a single cent to pay FIFA to buy its past matches, but to call the entire country racist and Nazi is a serious matter and carries a lot of weight. Argentina is a mixed-race country, since, like most Latin American countries, it was colonized by the Spanish. Therefore, it obviously has a history of racism, but it cannot be compared to that of the United States because it was different. Segregation did not exist in Argentina; in fact, it was one of the first Latin American countries to pass a law declaring that children born to former slaves were automatically free at birth in Argentina. And they are not Nazis simply because there was a wave of Germans who moved to Argentina after World War II, and the rumor that the man with the mustache escaped to Patagonia to live there is just that—a rumor.
Is Argentina a country with flaws? Yes, like any other, it has people who are homophobic, racist, xenophobic, among other things. But as I said, there are just a few people, not the entire nation, because a true Argentinian is someone who welcomes others with open arms. Argentina has a good national team with good players; unfortunately, Spain performed better, but they put up a good fight. Messi is an exceptional player whom even players from other countries admire and respect (EVEN RONALDO, for those who loved that dude) because he has achieved what every footballer dreams of. You can support any team you like; it's not illegal. But talking trash and spouting nonsense like "the evil was defeated" cause of the rumors is simply and completely xenophobic.
Anyways, congratulations to Spain. Your team really played an awesome game, well deserved. And to the Argentina haters, go read a damn book and not just Twitter.
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𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who completely loses all his bones the second the apartment door clicks shut. for a guy who spends his nights dodging gunfire and playing the tough guy, he turns into pure liquid muscle on your couch. he will collapse his entire upper body across your lap, burying his nose into your waist with a heavy, shuddering sigh that practically shakes his whole 220lb frame just to let the stress bleed out.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who is an absolute nightmare to literally everyone else in gotham, but turns into a complete marshmallow the second you’re in the room. he’ll spend his entire afternoon barkin’ orders, snapping at tim, throwing sarcastic insults at people, and scowling like he hates the entire world. but the moment you walk through the door? his whole posture softens, his jaw unclenches, and he’s pulling you onto his lap before he even finishes his sentence.
→ His family genuinely does not know how to react to seeing a guy who normally looks like he wants to punch a wall softly nuzzling his face into your hair and whispering sweet nothings like he wasn’t just screaming two minutes ago.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who treats you like you’re made of spun glass. he’s got massive, calloused, scarred hands, but the way he holds you is absurdly soft. he loves resting a heavy palm on the back of your neck or softly thumbing over your bottom lip while he’s distracted.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD… who is an absolute menace for press-and-hold kisses—soft, lingering presses into the crook of your elbow, your shoulder blades, and right behind your ear where he knows it makes you shiver.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who displays affection in the most quiet, domestic ways imaginable. he’ll spend hours sitting on the edge of the bed going on long, passionate rants about whatever classic literature he’s reading that week, his eyes lighting up while he explains every character arc to you.
→ he’ll also hand-craft custom leather bookmarks for you, carefully stamping your initials into them or burning little designs into the corner just so you have something special for your own books. he remembers every little detail about your routine—always making sure your favorite tea is stocked, pulling the covers over you when you fall asleep on the couch, and leaving tiny, messy love notes tucked into your jacket pockets before he goes out on patrol.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... whose dates are a seamless mix of domesticity and ridiculously thoughtful effort. he’s not taking you to some uptight, five-star restaurant where he has to wear a stiff suit and fake a smile; he’d much rather take you to a tiny, hole-in-the-wall diner at 2:00 AM, sitting in a vinyl booth and sharing a plate of fries while you both talk about nothing. or he’ll plan late-night rooftop dates with a heavy fleece blanket, hot coffee in thermos cups, and a quiet view of the city skyline, keeping his arm wrapped tight around your waist so the cold wind doesn't even touch you.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who is a total whiny submissive for you behind closed doors. all that red hood arrogance completely evaporates the second you tease him or make him wait. if you hold back or drag your fingers along his skin without touching him where he wants, he turns into the whiniest man on the planet. he’ll bury his face in your neck, whimpering softly, pulling on your waist, and begging you to just give in.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... who melts the second you take control. you can pin his wrists above his head—even though he could easily overpower you—and he will just go completely pliable and soft into the mattress. his eyes get dark and glassy, his breath hitched, softly pleading with you, “please... tell me what you want me to do.” he is so embarrassingly praise-hungry that running a hand through his hair and whispering a soft “good boy” against his ear will literally send him over the edge, leaving him clingy and helpless for the rest of the night.
𑣲⋆LOVERBOY! JASON TODD... takes loving you so seriously it’s almost stupid. he will send single-word replies to bruce and dick, but sends you three-paragraph rants about a book he’s reading or petty complaints about anyone other than you. he leaves his softest oversized hoodies at your place on purpose just to see you drowning in them while making coffee. he’s a man so deeply in love with you that he doesn't even know what to do with himself, and he’ll never let a second go by without making sure you know it.
A/n never falling for the “Jason is rough” propaganda. He is the most submissive, whiny, and pathetic man ever I said what I said.
The most unrealistic thing in the DC universe is that no civilian has killed the Joker yet. He's not a meta and he's not a practically skilled fighter. Sometimes he doesn't even have a gang or is carrying a gun. He's literally just a guy. Hit him with your car.
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