Summary: “Princess, you don’t mind Roy hanging out with us, do you?”. Jason avoided your eyes for a few moments, on purpose you knew. He was waiting for you to calm down. He knew that you couldn’t stand the auburn haired man Jason insisted was his best friend.
Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Threesome.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: Well today is the day. It’s my birthday!!! As I hit the infamous dirty thirty this year, enjoy this thirsty fic and celebrate with me.xoxo
“Princess…”, he rumbled in his dark velvet voice. It sent an erotic thrill down your spine.
“I’ve missed you Jason”, you slinked over to him on your hands and knees, rising up and pressing your face against his thick thigh. The fine fabric was cool yet you could feel the heat of his skin radiating beneath your cheek. The masculine power pulsed from his muscles. You could feel your core dampening with anticipation.
“Did you now?”, Jason patted your head as you inched closer to his burning crotch. You could make out the outline of his hardening cock. You could even smell the earthy musk of him. Your insides quivered.
“Or was it my cock you missed?”.
You rubbed your face into his crotch, feeling it throb and swell, smiling at the small groan Jason made as you gently mouthed the outline of the thick shaft though his slacks. Dry mouthed, you licked your lips and swallowed. Excitement dancing like live wires through your veins.
“Both”, you hummed and looked up at him with an impish gleam in your eyes.
Summary: “Princess, you don’t mind Roy hanging out with us, do you?”. Jason avoided your eyes for a few moments, on purpose you knew. He was waiting for you to calm down. He knew that you couldn’t stand the auburn haired man Jason insisted was his best friend.
Warnings – Language. Smut. NSFW. Threesome.
Word Count: 2.8k
A/N: Well today is the day. It’s my birthday!!! As I hit the infamous dirty thirty this year, enjoy this thirsty fic and celebrate with me.xoxo
The blindfold sat comfortably over your eyes, blocking everything from view. You whined and tried to reach out for him to no avail. You swore you could hear him but maybe you’d made the sound up in your mind, deprived of sight. You jumped when you felt Jason’s soft lips press a kiss to the edge of your bare shoulder. He grinned and nipped you before licking over the light mark.
“Princess, I know you like the view but trust me this is gonna be worth it”, his husky voice promised, covering you in a honeyed warmth. He pushed you backwards onto the bed and settled above you, slotting between your trembling thighs.
You stroked your hands over his chest feeling his muscles tense, “Jason…baby”, you moaned softly.
Jason secured the blindfold over your eyes and hovered his lips over yours, his hot breath mingling with yours. He tasted like sherbet lemons.
“You look so pretty, princess”, he mused and pressed another kiss to your collarbone, humming happily to himself when you shivered. Jason caressing your sides, swiping his palms over your stomach, “So pretty—just for me”.
“Jay…”.
You felt the bed dip under his weight before he slid his lips over your stomach, tongue dipping into your navel, “You gonna be a good girl and let me work you over?”.
Nodding enthusiastically, you whimpered before answering him breathily, “…Yes”.
Your fingers threaded through Jason’s dark hair as he kissed just above your panties waistband. Then within seconds, his hot lips travelled back upwards, finally reaching your nipples. His hot breath fanned over them, the faint touch of his mouth made you whimper and arch up to him.
“Jay—oh!!”, you squealed as his lips wrapped around one of the nubs, tongue flicking expertly over it. Your skin prickled with delight, his calloused fingers tweaking the other roughly. Jason swapped between them both, coaxing you close to orgasm before pulling away, kissing delicately between the valley of your breasts.
|| Warnings: SMUT 18+, Fingering, vaginal sex, dirty talk, minor daddy kink, kind of public sex, creampie ||
Weddings are a special time in people’s lives, it signifies the love of two people. The wedding that’s being referenced currently is Jason Todd and Y/n Y/L/N. She had done what many couldn’t imagine was possible. She tamed him.
Tonight the wedding rehearsal, tomorrow the wedding. Jason was excited about marrying her, I mean he did propose on his own recognizance. But all the wedding planning, the mishaps, it was a lot for the former boy wonder.
Jason sat back and watched as Y/n directed where a few things should go. All he wanted was to have her to himself, she was wearing a gorgeous cocktail dress in red, it hugged her body in ways that made Jason’s heart do flips and his cock hard.
Their families had yet to arrive but the place was full of staff and he wanted nothing more than to drag her into that bathroom he saw on the way in, have her dress hiked up to her waist and fuck her so she remembers just exactly who she’s marrying when she walks down that aisle tomorrow.
“Baby..”
Jason said as he caught her elbow as she walked by, pulling her against his chest, her hands rested on the leather material of his jacket.
“Yes love?”
She smiled at him, her lips painted a pretty red, her black eyeliner came to a sharp point. It was like she was doing everything that made Jason hard.
“Well.. we have a small.. mm.. pretty large problem.”
Her face fell as she started to do flips in her head double checking everything
“Wha- what?” She looked puzzled
“Well..” Jason gently pressed against her.
Her eyes widened and she blushed as she felt his hard cock against her thigh
“Oh..”
“Yeah, oh.” He chuckled as one of his hands curled around the side of her neck, his thumb running itself along her jawline.
Y/n went to go say something but that’s when the families walked in. Jason let out an annoyed sigh as Y/n then dragged Jason to go say hi. She stood in front of him to help conceal his boner. This wasn’t her first rodeo, she and him had been in many situations like this.
Jason smiled at everyone before they all took their seats
“Five minutes please.” He pleaded in her ear, she could feel herself her wet with arousal at how needy he sounded
“Jason..” she lightly scolded as she looked at him
“Our families just got here, they’ll think somethings wrong if we just up and disappear.”
“I don’t care, we’ll make an excuse. Please.”
She looked into his blue eyes, his pupils blown with lust as his eyes scanned her body, she pushed her thighs together and chewed on the inside of her lip as she thought.
“Just five minutes?” She whispered softly, Jason nodded
“Hell, time me if you want, princess.”
She nodded before she walked over to the table where everyone sat
“Jason and I need to go fix something that’s happened, we will be back in five minutes, I deeply apologize, it’s nothing serious but we’d like to take care of it now.”
The two of them rushed out of the room, Jason pulled her into an empty room of the place where their wedding was being held. Jason smirked as he locked the door.
“I’m so ready for you.”
He whispered, his voice was deeper than normal. He licked his lips and stalked toward her. Y/n gulped as she backed up against the wall, he looked incredibly sexy. His hair was neatly combed out, a white shirt with V-neckline and his classic black leather jacket over the top.
She could see the outline of his cock through his jeans. Her breath was shaky was he pushed his body against hers. Jason gently nudged her feet apart, his toned, muscled thigh was pressed against her. Y/n loved riding Jason’s thigh, it had quickly became one of her favorite ways to cum. Jason hiked her dress up high, revealing the black lace panties she wore.
He licked his lips again before shoving his hand straight down them. She gasped and threw her head back, hitting the wall with a soft thud noise.
“You’re so wet already. I’ve hardly touched you.” He hummed as he pressed his lips to her neck. Her chest rose and fell quickly.
“Jason please.” She whimpered, the bridge of his nose brushed her jawline as his fingers ran along her slit, her thighs involuntarily pushed together
“Shh it’s okay, I’ll take really good care of you.”
He whispered softly into her neck. She whimpered before gasping as he plunged two fingers deep into her, his thumb found her clit. She moaned and let her head fall forward onto his shoulder, her hands gripping the leather jacket.
Jason smirked, he loves watching her come undone. He moved his fingers in a come here motion, pressing against a sensitive part of her cunt. It took everything in her to not scream out of pleasure.
“Daddy please!”
She whined, Jason felt her clenched tightly around his fingers, making him want his cock in her already. He pulled his fingers out and she whimpered at the feeling of being empty.
Y/n undid Jason’s belt while he pulled his fingers out, he licked them clean, tasting the sweetness that was her slick. Her eyes widened in awe as she watched him. They had been together since they were fifteen, in the last ten years, they still managed to turn each other on like it was the first time they fooled around.
He pulled his fingers out of his mouth with a small pop. In one swift motion he ripped her panties off causing her to gasp. He tucked them into his back pocket before cupping her cheeks.
“I’m going to ruin that pretty pussy of yours, got it? I’m going to fill you with my cum, and watch you squirm during that rehearsal dinner while it slowly drips out of you and you wish that I could be fucking it back into you. Got it?”
She nodded and looked at him in the eyes
“Yes daddy.” She whispered softly
Jason nodded before he undid the button of his jeans, letting them drop to the ground, he picked her up by her thighs and pushed her tighter to the wall. She leaned in to kiss him, as he grabbed his cock in one hand and ran it along her slit. Her slick and his precum mixing together before he thrusted his hips up into her
“Shit-“ he hissed against her lips as she clenched around him, she was always tight but when she did that, it drove Jason mad, it caused his head to go fuzzy and his cock to throb.
He started to thrust into her, she moaned and ran her fingers through his hair, lightly pulling on it as he fucked her. Soft moans and whimpers escaped from her lips as he thrusted into her. Grunts and groans left his lips.
“Please can I cum sir? Please.. please..” she begged
“Cum on my cock princess, make a mess.” He smirked
She moaned a little louder than she came, it set off a chain reaction causing Jason to cum inside her.
“Now you’re going to go in there and hold all my cum in and be a pretty little slut okay?” He hummed as he got dressed
|| Warning: Daddy kink, spanking, fingering, edging, clothing being ripped off, Jason being sexy, tying up, being called kitten and slut, probably more I’m forgetting ||
Tonight was their anniversary, two years since they had started dating. They had done the classic get dressed up and go out to dinner but that wasn’t the exciting part. The exciting part was the sex.
Jason smirked down as the front door to their house shut behind him. He grabbed Y/n’s hand and spun her around to face him. Her breathing hitched as she saw the look in his eyes. Pure lust.
Jason put one hand on the side of her neck, his thumb stroking her cheek as he leaned in and kissed her. He backed her against the wall. Her lips worked to kiss him back as her hands undid the buttons on the white shirt he wore
Jason’s lips dragged from her mouth down her jaw and to her neck. He aggressively attacked her neck with kisses and faint bite marks. She let out soft moans as her fingers tangled in his hair. Her nails scraping his scalp lightly
“I love the noises you make when you start to come undone.” He smirked as he picked his head up to look at her
Her cheeks went a light pink
“Thank you daddy.”
Her voice was soft as she tugged his shirt off
“You should see what I’m wearing under this.”
Jason picked up his head again from her neck, his lips pulled into a smirk, he licked his lips, looking at her like she was his prey.
“I’m not wearing anything under this.”
He pounced, metaphorically. He picked her up by her thighs and carried her to the bedroom. He gently threw her down on the bed, he leaned over to kiss her as a distraction as he ripped her dress right off her body. Y/n gasped
“Jason”
“Shh, kitten. Come get on your knees for me.”
“That was my favorite dress.” She whined as she sat up
“Don’t make me tell you twice, kitten.” His voice was rough, it went straight to Y/n’s cunt, she could feel her wetness begin to pool
“Oh shut up and take your pants off.” She backtalked, being a brat was one of your favorite things to do.
Jason grabbed her by the jaw and stared into her eyes, silently questioning her
“Did I stutter? Take your pants off.” She challenged
“On your knees, hands out.” He growled as he pulled out their sex rope
Y/n knew what was coming, she was going to be teased without mercy
“If you’re going to act like a little brat then I’m going to treat you like a little brat.“
He tied each hand to each bed posts before he smacked her ass. The sound of skin on skin was loud as Y/n cried out
“One! I’m sorry daddy!”
He smacked her ass again, the pale flesh was turning bright pink
“Two! I’m sorry daddy!” She whimpered
He chuckled and mocked her whimper
“Aw it hurts? Good.” He smacked her ass once again
“Three! I’m sorry daddy!”
Jason moved to whisper in her ear, his voice was heavy as he spoke
“I bet all our neighbors can hear you, I bet they all know what a naughty little slut you are.”
Y/n let out a small whine
“I’ll be good, I’m sorry! I was upset you ruined my dress.”
“You better be sorry.”
He untied her hands, Y/n moved to kneel at the edge of the bed. Jason gently brushed hair behind her ear as he wrapped one hand loosely around her neck
“You look so pretty with my hand around your throat princess.”
Y/n smiled a bit, Jason could be very rough with her, but also soft and gentle and that’s what she loved about him. She needed an even balance of both.
“Suck on my fingers and get them nice and wet for me.”
Y/n opened her mouth, taking three of Jason’s fingers in her mouth, she used her spit to help her get them nice and wet
“My pretty little kitten.” He cooed “I’m going to ruin you to know, you know that? I’m going to tease you until you scream for me to let you cum, I want to see all that pretty make up you spent so much time on running down your face.” He smirked
“I don’t care how good it’s going to feel. You will not cum until I tell you that it’s okay, do you understand?”
Jason pulled his fingers out and Y/n nodded
“Yes sir, I understand that I won’t cum until you say.”
He smiled and kissed her “Good girl. On your knees.”
Y/n moved her back towards him as she got on all fours, Jason spread her legs apart and pulled her arms to her sides. Her chest was pressed into the bed as she laid, looking in the large vanity mirror they had facing the bed
Jason slid one finger into her with ease, her walls clenched around his finger as she let out a small whimper. He smirked as he noticed her watching herself, he caught her eye in the mirror and winked. Y/n felt her heart flutter
“You take my fingers so well princess.” Jason said as he added two more fingers for a total of three, he slid them in and out with ease due to how wet she was
“Reminds me of the first time I ever fingered you, we were in the car driving to your old apartment, I had my hand on your inner thigh, rubbing small circles. You looked at me and begged for me to touch you. I’ll never forget the pretty Sounds that came out of your mouth, or how your thighs shook for how hard you came, or the way you gripped my wrist, crying out my name. Mm, the way I pulled my fingers out and your cum ran all over my seat and you were so embarrassed, you almost cried.” He chuckled
“Hey! I felt b-“ Y/n gasped as Jason curled his fingers, hitting one of the most sensitive spots
“Fuck!” She whimpered, her toes curled and her abdomen clenched
“Oh kitten, kitten, kitten.. if you keep making those pretty little sounds of yours, well I just.. I might not be able to stop teasing you.” Jason chuckled again, Y/n let herself calm down, taking a few deep breaths.
“You’re so needy, you know that? My needy little slut, remember when I had to teach you how to suck my cock? So innocent, all wide eyed, sometimes I forget that you were a cute little virgin when we met.”
Y/n needed more, all this talk of the dirty things they’ve done, it had her dripping down her thighs, she pushed back on Jason’s fingers, trying to get them as deep as she possibly could
“Pushing back against my fingers already kitten? God you’re such a pathetic little slut, it’s cute honestly. You’re lucky I love the sight of you with my fingers inside you.” He chuckled
Y/n whined “Jason I’m so close, please let me cum, please, I’ll do anything for you daddy.”
“I want to watch you fall apart Y/n, I want to see you come unraveled as I make you cum.”
“Can I cum? Please!” She whined, she was desperate, but Jason was sadistic
“No.” He growled and pulled his fingers out quickly, they dripped with her wetness. Jason moved to kneel in front of her, she lifted her head to look at him, tears were threatening to spill from her eyes
“Open your mouth.” Y/n opened her mouth, only to be greeted with the taste of herself, Jason slowly stood, Y/n following his lead as she kneeled on the bed, her tongue licked his fingers clean, she didn’t stop until he pulled them free.
“Good girl.” He stroked her hair
“Get on your knees on the ground.”
“Yes sir.”
She followed her orders, the hardwood flooring was cold against her knees as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers
“Take them off.. slowly.”
Y/n made eye contact with him as she inched his boxers down, she watched as his cock was freed from the tight fabric that now pooled at his feet. He kicked them away as Y/n wrapped her hand around his cock, she licked the small amount of pre cum away.
Her movements were slow as she did so, Jason let out a small groan as he let his head fall back
“Fuck.” He dragged out the word, Y/n squeezed her thighs together
“Oh kitten, you already know that you shouldn’t tease daddy. You’re just not cut out to have control princess.”
Y/n blushed and nodded, she knew he was right, she’d get cocky and tease him but the few times he gave over control, she got flustered and couldn’t do it
Jason licked his lips as he watched her spit on his cock, using her hands to run it up and down, making it easier for her to suck him off while she stroked whatever didn’t fit in her mouth
Y/n slid his cock into her mouth, her tongue swirled around the head, her jaw was already hurting from how large his dick was. Jason tangled his hands in her hair as he groaned. Every sound that left his mouth, went straight to Y/n’s tight cunt
“Yeah, that’s a good girl. Mm, just like that kitten.” Jason moaned out, dragging out words like good and the little Mm sound he made, he drove Y/n nuts, blowing him was one of her favorite pass times, especially when she definitely shouldn’t have been.
He’s on a call? His cocks in her mouth
While he’s driving? His cocks in her mouth
In the movie theater on date night? Oh yeah
It was one of the only ways she could tease him without having to take control for long. Jason held her head on either side and slowly started to fuck her mouth, he hit the back of her throat and Y/n gagged, tearing up. If she really wanted to stop she’d tap his thigh but she really didn’t want to stop.
Jason moaned as he felt her throat swallow around him as he pushed as deep as he could, Y/n gagged around him, tears now running down her face, ruining her mascara and eyeliner.
“Fuck yes kitten.” He moaned as he pulled out of her mouth, he was close to cumming but stopped himself, Y/n turned away and started to cough.
“You did so good baby, so so good,” he pulled her up carefully and kissed her forehead “let me grab you some water.”
He ran to the kitchen and grabbed her a glass of cold water before he came back “Here, drink some.”
Y/n smiled as she took a sip, Jason gently wiped her tears, she loved that he could switch off being dominate to take care of her, that was a really big nonsexual turn on for her.
“Ready?” He asked as she set the glass on her nightstand
“Yes I am.” She smiled
“Okay baby, lay back on the bed.”
He smiled and gently pushed her back as he crawled to lay next to her, she looked at him convinced before he kissed her, one hand trailed down to her pussy and rubbed her clit, his moves were slow and gentle before picking up speed
Y/n gasped as he was rubbing her clit as fast as he could, she could feel her orgasm coming, her cunt tightened as she got closer and closer
“Fuck! Daddy!” She yelled just as she was about to cum, Jason pulled away, kissing her neck
“No!” Y/n sobbed, “please daddy, please!” She sniffled
“I know, I know, it’s so tough.” He faked being sympathetic towards her yet again
Y/n let out a loud whimper was Jason kneeled between her thighs
“I’m going to fuck you so good princess.”
He slid his cock into her and moaned
“Shit, you’re soaked, god damn it, you’re fuckin tight too!”
He bit his lip as he bottomed out, Y/n moaned and reached behind her to grip the pillow her head laid on
Jason moaned as he started thrust in and out, giving her no time to really adjust to being filled with his cock, one hand held her hips up while the other gripped the headboard, his head hung down, as he watched himself slid in and out of her cunt.
“Fuck me.” He dragged out as her cunt gripped his cock
“Your pussy is so fuckin amazing kitten.”
He gripped the headboard tighter as his hips rolled into her, hitting her deepest point causing her walls to flutter around him
“Son of a bitch!”
He hissed, his hair started to stick to his forehead as he went quicker, both his hands gripping her hips as he pounded in and out of her
His and her moans intermixed as they were getting each other off, he rubbed her clit with his thumb, Y/n was full blown crying from pleasure, her make up was running everywhere, but she didn’t give a shit, she just wanted to fucking cum.
She watched as Jason ran his fingers through his hair, pushing it back. Y/n moved to sit in his lap, he was still thrusting up into her, her bounced met his thrusts.
Her hands tangled themselves in his hair as he wrapped his arms around her, his nails lightly digging into her back. Y/n moaned at the light sting.
“You look so fucking pretty when you cry.”
He said with a small chuckle before he spun her around and put her on her knees, she laid in the same position, chest flat on the bed, ass in the air. They were skilled enough to have kept his cock in her through the position change.
Jason put his hands on her sides, lightly pushing her into the bed as he would pull almost completely out before ramming back in again, he did this over and over, letting out soft grunts.
Y/n on the other hand was screaming his name, her pussy was clenching around his cock, she was holding back her orgasm as best as humanly possible
“Say my name over and over again and, once you think you’ve said it loud enough, scream it till your voice gives out. I want the whole neighborhood to know who’s making you feel this fucking good. You scream my name as loud as I want and I’ll let you cum. What’s my name kitten!”
“Jason!” She screamed
“What?” He started to pound her, hard and fast, her favorite, a devilish smirk on his face
“Jason!” She screamed louder
“Can’t fucking hear you!” He pulled her hair so her chest was up off the bed, one hand reached between her legs and rubbed her clit
“Jason!” She screamed until her voice gave out;
“Cum my pretty little slut. Cum right now!”
Her cunt tightened so much that Jason almost couldn’t move, she sobbed as she came, triggering Jason to cum inside out, his hand dropped away from her clit and he let go of her hair. Jason slowly pulled out, Y/n tried to whine but nothing came out
“Shit baby..” he chuckled and pushed the cum that leaked out back inside her before Y/n flopped to lay on her side, too tired to move
Jason laid next to her “You did perfect princess. Happy anniversary.”
“I feel so good. Happy anniversary.” She smiled, her voice was raw and barely there
Jason would answer to the neighbors tomorrow, right now, he had to clean Y/n up and get themselves off to sleep. And that’s exactly what he did
“I wish you didn’t care… so I could walk out from us and not have to constantly be afraid you’d do anything to hurt yourself. I wish you didn’t love me anymore.”
A/N: my first fic after a five month long hiatus! I wasn’t in the best place mentally and I didn’t feel like my best self as a writer. It was sad, but I got through it and wrote this in a night! Please read the warnings bc this is one BRUTAL fic. I’ve provided warnings below.
WORDS: 5.4K
WARNINGS:NSFW 18+,DIVORCE, VERBAL FIGHTING, HATE/ANGRY SEX (ORAL FEMALE RECEIVING AND VAGINAL SEX) (Jason and the Reader were a married couple in their forties and have a teenage son affected by the divorce. there is an argument scene between Jason the Reader that involves screaming, yelling, insult hurling, blaming, etc., that may be triggering for some readers. The sex scene also involves anger and hate and is considered rough and degrading. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please look away.
“And you,” he handed her the worn napkin, “call me sometime.”
The waitress’s nametag had fallen out of her apron, but she did mention her name when she asked for his order. Was it Samantha? Or just Sam? He’ll figure it out.
Samantha or Sam took his order for two and Jason’s number written on a napkin before she left him alone at the table. Even her backside was attractive, which held his eyes until she disappeared into the kitchens. He could come back later, find out when her shift would be over. That date easily could be as early as tonight after the way her fingers traced his hand’s palm.
But he should have recognized the incoming clicking of heels on hard cement different from all other entering customers. Otherwise, he’d have the time to prepare himself.
“Hey,” you casually greeted him. Jason stood up, pecked your cheek, then held the chair out for you. “Did you get to order?”
“I wish you didn’t care… so I could walk out from us and not have to constantly be afraid you’d do anything to hurt yourself. I wish you didn’t love me anymore.”
A/N: my first fic after a five month long hiatus! I wasn’t in the best place mentally and I didn’t feel like my best self as a writer. It was sad, but I got through it and wrote this in a night! Please read the warnings bc this is one BRUTAL fic. I’ve provided warnings below.
WORDS: 5.4K
WARNINGS:NSFW 18+,DIVORCE, VERBAL FIGHTING, HATE/ANGRY SEX (ORAL FEMALE RECEIVING AND VAGINAL SEX) (Jason and the Reader were a married couple in their forties and have a teenage son affected by the divorce. there is an argument scene between Jason the Reader that involves screaming, yelling, insult hurling, blaming, etc., that may be triggering for some readers. The sex scene also involves anger and hate and is considered rough and degrading. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please look away.
“And you,” he handed her the worn napkin, “call me sometime.”
The waitress’s nametag had fallen out of her apron, but she did mention her name when she asked for his order. Was it Samantha? Or just Sam? He’ll figure it out.
Samantha or Sam took his order for two and Jason’s number written on a napkin before she left him alone at the table. Even her backside was attractive, which held his eyes until she disappeared into the kitchens. He could come back later, find out when her shift would be over. That date easily could be as early as tonight after the way her fingers traced his hand’s palm.
But he should have recognized the incoming clicking of heels on hard cement different from all other entering customers. Otherwise, he’d have the time to prepare himself.
“Hey,” you casually greeted him. Jason stood up, pecked your cheek, then held the chair out for you. “Did you get to order?”
“I wish you didn’t care… so I could walk out from us and not have to constantly be afraid you’d do anything to hurt yourself. I wish you didn’t love me anymore.”
A/N: my first fic after a five month long hiatus! I wasn’t in the best place mentally and I didn’t feel like my best self as a writer. It was sad, but I got through it and wrote this in a night! Please read the warnings bc this is one BRUTAL fic. I’ve provided warnings below.
WORDS: 5.4K
WARNINGS:NSFW 18+,DIVORCE, VERBAL FIGHTING, HATE/ANGRY SEX (ORAL FEMALE RECEIVING AND VAGINAL SEX) (Jason and the Reader were a married couple in their forties and have a teenage son affected by the divorce. there is an argument scene between Jason the Reader that involves screaming, yelling, insult hurling, blaming, etc., that may be triggering for some readers. The sex scene also involves anger and hate and is considered rough and degrading. If you are sensitive to any of these topics, please look away.
“And you,” he handed her the worn napkin, “call me sometime.”
The waitress’s nametag had fallen out of her apron, but she did mention her name when she asked for his order. Was it Samantha? Or just Sam? He’ll figure it out.
Samantha or Sam took his order for two and Jason’s number written on a napkin before she left him alone at the table. Even her backside was attractive, which held his eyes until she disappeared into the kitchens. He could come back later, find out when her shift would be over. That date easily could be as early as tonight after the way her fingers traced his hand’s palm.
But he should have recognized the incoming clicking of heels on hard cement different from all other entering customers. Otherwise, he’d have the time to prepare himself.
“Hey,” you casually greeted him. Jason stood up, pecked your cheek, then held the chair out for you. “Did you get to order?”
“Just drinks. I got you lemonade.”
“Thanks.”
You weren’t a mess. Not a stunner today, either. No makeup, or at least light enough for a man not to notice. Your hair was fixed, at least. A few strands fell over your un-powdered cheeks. And your clothes looked too comfortable for you to have put too much thought on them. Which meant this was easy for you. Coming here.
You were making it easier.
Your eyes caught his, hands folded over your lap and legs squeezed together as if the air gripped your shoulders. Even with it a beautiful day, you repeatedly turned to the sky as if expecting a raindrop. Jason forced a smile, whatever smile he could muster. He didn’t take it too personally when you couldn’t smile back.
“How are you?” he asked.
A shrug. “Good. You?”
“Good.”
“How’s Peter?”
Again, the imaginary hands around you slid through your skin like a serpent’s hold. Your jaw cocked to the right and your eyes trailed all over the bright blue sky, anywhere that wasn’t him. You haven’t looked him in the eye since you came in.
“We’ve been on two dates,” you sighed, unsurprised that Jason would know of your whereabouts so quickly. You haven’t said anything to anyone. But two weeks ago, your company had an anniversary dinner and Peter from marketing had an arm wound around your shoulders in the group photo. It took Jason two minutes to know what high school the guy went to and what country club he preferred to play golf at.
“Getting serious.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“Sure.”
He let you air yourself out with muttered curses he couldn’t hear. He later regretted the remarks when you took it as some sort of final push of a cliff. Thus, the start of the falling. Eventually, it’ll lead to his death.
For now, the end begins with the pile of papers in neatly organized folders you pulled out of your purse and a pen you handed to him so casually, it sickened him.
“Now?”
No words. You just nodded, then slid the pen to his side of the table when he didn’t take it.
“I signed everything this morning,” you said. He wished your voice didn’t sound so soft. “I’ve marked them for you.”
As a child, Jason had learned to stop trembling when he didn’t want the enemy to know he was afraid. This was no different from having a gun pointed to someone’s head, when he was hesitant to pull the trigger. This was a pen, holding too much power for a piece of molded plastic and ink, and a pile of papers plastered with even more ink he never wanted to read.
The lawyers could have at least made it easier for their clients and not have the word ‘DIVORCE’ so obviously printed repeatedly on the titles, as if people needed reminding what they were for.
He opened the first one, and the pen stopped half an inch from touching the fine print of his name. It stayed hovering. This time the invisible hands were on him, stopping all his muscles from so much as twitching.
“Just sign it, Jason.”
No snide remark out of him this time. Jason didn’t bother tilting his head up, but his eyes finally found yours. They were empty, devoid of the flame he’d fallen to his heels for everyday for decades. You were ice. You were worse than ice. You were freezing water that murdered all that dared to swim its murky currents.
When he finally brought himself to stop glaring at you and stare back at the paper, the pen finally touched the surface. But he couldn’t move.
“Just get it over with.”
“This would be easier if you’d stop breathing over my neck.”
“You can take off your ring, too.”
More of that ice burned him. All over his skin. They were red, boiling, just to fight the coldness of the smoke through your lips. Jason looked to his hand and the gold band he’d conveniently forgotten to take off that day.
Perhaps he couldn’t bag that date tonight after all. If anything, it might have well been disgust written all over that waitress’s face when he slipped her his number.
“When did you take off yours?” He said, dropping the pen and sliding the ring off his finger. Without regard for littering, Jason tossed it to the patch of wilting grass not far from where you sat. You stared at it, didn’t look at him while he barked at you. “The day after? Or even before that and I didn’t know?”
You didn’t answer. He’d like to believe the worst. No matter how improbable. He could only wish you were capable of cheating. Perhaps all this would’ve been easier.
“You ready to order?”
You held your hand up to her. “Not yet-“
“We’re ready. Just give me a minute.”
It was the same waitress, but he ignored how the growling disgust on her face quickly fell to a look of pity when she saw what the papers before him said. Jason didn’t let her leave, then Samantha or Sam watched awkwardly for two minutes straight as Jason quickly signed his marriage away in fifty pages.
It wasn’t as climactic as he thought, throwing the pen to your side and falling to the back of his chair once the last of it was done. You were quiet, and the poor waitress stuttered to ask again for your lunch. It was Jason’s turn not to look you in the eye when he grabbed the menu and fumbled for anything that wouldn’t taste stale in his mouth.
But after all those wretched pages still splayed out on his table, even the pictures of ribeye steaks and salads were a blur to him. Even more, the words that danced over his eyes and taunted him with that same, horrible ‘D’ word in an endless echo.
After another few minutes of his silence, you held out your hand for him to give you the menu. You knew what he liked. He hadn’t ordered for himself in years. He gave in, handed you the menu, and it wasn’t a sharp tug that left painful frost spreading to his hands, the way your ice often left behind every time you looked at him nowadays. It was sincere, gentle. You sat back on your chair and looked through the list.
“He’ll have the potato salad and chicken fingers.”
Yeah. That was exactly what he wanted.
“I’ll have the same thing,” you sighed. You were lying, and he knew that. You just didn’t have the energy to have to go through the menu four more times to decide.
When the waitress left, the bustling noise started to return, after that numbing silence reverberating through his skull the past hour. You put the papers in your purse and waited for your food in even more excruciating silence.
“I’m sorry,” you finally said, when Jason hadn’t looked up from his cold salad after too many minutes. Like a child in a tantrum. This was low even for him.
“I’m sorry,” you said again. “I should’ve… You should’ve taken your time. The next time they give us more shit to sign, I’ll have you take them home and send it back to me the next day.”
“Stop patronizing me.”
“I’m not patronizing you.”
“It doesn’t take me hours to write my name on paper, Y/N. It wasn’t that hard.”
“More lemonade?”
That last voice was from the waitress, who probably couldn’t wait for the two to leave the premises and possibly never come back if they didn’t want the whole block so upset. He twisted the limp lettuce with his fork and lazily held it up to his teeth. You just watched him. This was a dance, a game too long played. When one would do anything to look into their eyes and the other refusing out of spite.
“It’s Leo’s last day of exams,” you said when you half-finished your food. “He graduates in two weeks.”
“I know. He called me this morning.”
“That’s good.”
It was one less thing that would’ve made this whole charade even more messy than it ought to be. Fighting over custody would’ve been a whole ‘nother epoch of chaos. And that’s without the thousands of dollars spent on lawyers. No one gives a shit if a seventeen-year-old spends his weekends with his father or mother if his birthday was in three weeks.
“He also invited me to dinner.”
“Tonight?”
Jason nodded. “I thought you knew.”
“It’s alright,” you sipped from your water. “We can have dinner together.”
With Leo to mediate you both, at least the dinner table wouldn’t be full of your crappy insults so needlessly hurled at each other. So, it was never a pain. You both preferred it, actually, if he was around.
Just today, however. You didn’t think it was best to have your only son witness his parents sign the last of their divorce papers and have potato salad the next minute.
There was absolutely fuck all to smile about. And Jason should’ve shrugged you off the moment he let himself watch you for a minute, fumbling through your purse and fixing your already kept hair before meeting his eyes. Your lips curved so slightly, so mockingly delicate, with the red from your lipstick noticeably fainter from when you walked in.
It shouldn’t have calmed him so quickly, but that was exactly the effect you still had on him.
He walked you to your car, hugged you goodbye and promised to see you later that night for a hopefully more civilized reunion. Jason spent the rest of the afternoon in that park, on a bench with no one to sit next with, and he peacefully watched the sky and the rustling leaves that breathed the silence to life.
The life that hadn’t been in him since that day you were no longer his.
—–
It was quiet. For the most part.
But he guessed that was better than lunch. Leo must’ve figured out what happened. He barely touched his food.
“You want more yams?” Jason asked.
“Thanks, dad.”
He didn’t think he wanted more yams. But it was always nice to hear him talk. They’d gone over the expected. The congratulations and the talks on graduation, college, part time jobs. For the past five get-togethers, Jason had exhausted his son of all those questions.
After the first three times, he only ever asked them when his mother was in the room, and when he didn’t want the quietness to be so haunting.
“Are you still leaving town tomorrow?”
Jason caught your eye twitch. He wished it didn’t satisfy him at the very least that you were unaware of yet another conversation they had.
“Just for a few days. I’ll be back in time for your graduation.”
“You didn’t say you were leaving town,” you interrupted.
“You never asked.”
“How could I have-“
You stopped yourself before berating him for his ridiculous question, realized only after he’d said it. Leo went back to toying with his soup and staring blankly into nothing.
“Sorry,” Jason sighed, then finished the rest of his dinner.
“You don’t have to be mad, mom,” Leo said.
“I’m not mad, sweetie.”
The vein popping out of your forehead said otherwise. But Jason didn’t think he looked any better.
It wasn’t until Leo tossed his plates onto the sink and started for his room so suddenly when Jason was sure he’d sensed their marriage had no chance of salvation until that very day (on paper, at least. It was over long before even that).
“I’ll be upstairs. Sorry I bothered to force you both in here. I’ll turn my headphones up so I don’t have to hear either of you scream shit at each other for the rest of the night.”
“Watch it, Leo.”
You looked to him instantly, with that trembling, pleading whisper in your eyes as you reached out and gently touched his arm. Just as Jason’s raised voice faltered, you both winced as Leo made sure you both heard him stomp his way into his room. After a slammed door and a lock in place, Jason fell back to his chair.
You took his plate, threw them into the sink, but you didn’t wash them. Your hands stuck to the edge of the counter, head dipped to your chest. That ice had melted. Maybe you’d used the last of it on him today, because all he could feel was that empty numbness no different from a frostbite slowly killing him from the inside.
Years ago, when you cried in the kitchen the way you did right then, his arms would be around you, his words consoling you. He’d have long been inside you before he could even move you to the bedroom, so all you could cry was his name and not whatever was making you upset. Jason didn’t do that now. He stuck to his place in the dinner table. Even with the lights on, that room felt as dark as the night that surrounded you.
“Should we have waited longer?” you wept, careful not to show him your tears. Your hair had fallen loose from its perfectly tied bun over your face; even more of a curtain to shield yourself away.
“I could have waited. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stand to be with me another day after last year.”
“Don’t throw that at me,” you barked. But when you turned to let him see your face, your tears had been wiped with your sleeve. “You were the one who wanted to do or die.”
“And spend another year hoping you’d come to your senses?” he snorted. “You didn’t have to spell out ‘divorce’ to me before I knew that was what you wanted.”
“You told Leo before he was ready. You sat him down and told him you were moving out!” You screamed. “And when he asked when you were coming back, you couldn’t at least lie to him and say would! He’s just a kid!”
“Did you want to wait until the moment he turned eighteen?!” he stood from his chair. “Happy birthday, son! By the way, I’m divorcing your father!”
Throwing your chair, you started for him with a finger to his face. “We both wanted to wait until he was grown!”
“Stop pretending our son’s an idiot!” He pushed your finger away. “He’s known for three years after he heard you say you wished I was dead!”
“He knew I didn’t mean it!”
“Did you?”
“You knew I didn’t mean it!”
That suffocating silence had long been ignited into a bursting outrage of fire, deep in his lungs, his throat, anywhere the air around you reached within him.
“I thought you did,” he swallowed. “I thought you wanted me dead. Again. I thought you wanted me found dead in the streets years after you begged me to give up everything for you. I thought you wanted the Joker to beat a fucking crowbar into my skull again after everything we’ve been through!”
“I can’t believe you-“
“Believe me.”
“I can’t believe you’re fucking throwing that at my face right now!” you cried. “Was the Red Hood really everything to you?! Was it never me? Or your own son!?”
“I stopped saving lives for you! I stopped serving Gotham because you wanted me to!”
“Is that why you murdered an entire warehouse of goons the moment I kicked you out of the house?!”
It didn’t have to make sense. It didn’t have to be so linear. Your rebuttals didn’t have to align.
Everything had fallen too far into this murky, twisted mess, that no matter what you threw at each other, you both knew there was nothing left to save.
“I thought it was over. I didn’t owe you any promises anymore,” he growled at you, face not even an inch apart from yours. “There was no saving us long before that.”
“It was over the moment you decided it was.”
You shut off the lights, didn’t bother with the dishes, but before you could rush up the stairs, Jason grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you firmly to his chest.
“What the hell do you want me to say, Y/N?” He cried into the darkness. “What more do you want? You wanted me out of the house, I left. You wanted a divorce, I called the lawyers myself. You wanted to hurt me, I let you! What more do you fucking want!?”
He didn’t mean for the cries to escape so soon, not with you so close to his face. You looked at him the same as the waitress who watched him sign his name countlessly on that pile of papers he wanted to burn so much. You pitied him.
“I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“Bullshit.”
He let go of your arm, turned around, but it was your turn to go after him. The spite game continues.
“Leo will be fine, Y/N. We’ve ripped the band aid. He’s grown, and in a few months, he’ll be too busy in college anyway to see either of us.”
Jason thought he’d wiped the last of his tears with his sleeves, but his eyelids wouldn’t stop leaking. No amount of Lazarus-induced strength could stop even that.
You’d softened, so quickly. The lava that wouldn’t stop spewing out of the core of you had calmed into a quiet smoke. Grabbing a few tissues from the counter, you handed a few to Jason, then used one on you and your own tears down your cheeks. Then you ran your fingers through your hair, as if the illusion of cleanliness would convince you how fine everything was.
“I just wanted him to be okay,” you sobbed, shielding your face from him again. “Hell, I’d give anything for you to be okay. I wish you didn’t care… so I could walk out from us and not have to constantly be afraid you’d do anything to hurt yourself. I wish you didn’t love me anymore.”
So you blamed yourself. You thought you teared this family apart and left everything hurting the way they were. It was no lie that everyone in the family, Bruce, Jason’s brothers and sisters, Alfred, your family, everyone, was heartbroken for them: two people so obviously still in love.
“I wish you didn’t love me anymore,” Jason whispered.
Then he didn’t have to watch you hurt so much and do what your heart constantly begged you not to.
Back against the counter, you sobbed into your hands, no longer bothering with the paper towels or your sleeves to wipe the tears falling to the floor. You were in so much pain. Your screams crawled and scratched out of your throat. And it was nothing he had to bear, nothing a merciful deity would have ever wanted Jason to witness. Each time you reached for a breath, each time your sobs escaped the hand clamped over your mouth at the sheer pain of having to hold them back, he cried with you.
Not long after, Jason was reaching for you, arms around your neck and head, so he could bury his face into your hair and whisper all the words he knew to calm you.
‘I’m sorry,’ he wept, over and over until you’d understand. You said sorry, too, instead of letting him know you forgave him. He didn’t even know it was all he wanted.
“I didn’t mean what I said. I’m sorry.” When you grabbed him, cried into his chest, and held into his arms the way you did when you never wanted him to let go, he knew you didn’t mean what you said to him, either.
An hour, perhaps two, of standing in the darkness with each other’s tears falling into Jason’s shirt and your hair, he finally let go just enough to plant a kiss to your forehead. That was all he could manage. Your embrace was still tight enough around him that it hurt to leave.
Again, he kissed your hairline, your eyebrows, forehead. Then he reached your eyelids when you loosened around him enough so he could reach your nose. The apologies kept coming. They never stopped. Not even after he’d kissed your cheek, close enough to the corner of your lips to startle you.
You’d melted the ice beneath your eyes. Instead, he saw the charred remnants of the flame only he knew to ignite. Your eyes were trembling, but they never spared a second to look away from him. And fuck did they make him melt. Decades with you, countless fights, and still, you warmed his heart so much it never wished to leave the scorching fire.
You leaned your forehead against him, and he closed his eyes knowing you were watching. Your warmth. Your hold. It shouldn’t have been so intoxicating. You should’ve stayed being ice, so all this would be easier to walk away from.
Instead, your feathery lips hovering over his mouth pushed him over the dangling edge, over the cliff he’d fought relentlessly to climb out of.
He can walk out of this. He’ll wake up the next morning and not think differently of the completed divorce papers sitting on the desk not far from where you were.
Just one night. Just one more night to pretend he was still married to the love of his life.
He kissed you. Your lips were shaking, begging, a pleading mess, no different from your hands grabbing at his shirt until your back hit the counter. You wanted this just as much, with your breaths a drowning victim’s first taste of air. Your skin burned to touch, but it didn’t stop him from squeezing your waist, neck, and arms until you were writhing for release. You didn’t let his lips trail down to your neck, not just yet, until you were done ravishing his mouth with your taste and tongue.
You were hoisted up the counter before you could invite him into the bedroom. No. There was no pretending he was still married to you. Where you used to gently touch his flushed skin, you were pulling and clawing through as if to relieve a growing itch. When Jason dug his fingers too deep into your thigh, earning a cry from you that would’ve been heard all over the house, he shushed you with his mouth.
He couldn’t see much, not with the lights still off and the quietness amplifying every sound you helplessly made. But he could see just enough of your body from a lone streetlight outside the window. With that, Jason tore off the button on your pants, unzipped it like a starving man, and had your jeans laying on the floor before you could take off your shirt and bra yourself.
Then he pushed your hands away before you could do the same to his pants. He remains clothed, he decided, while he wanted you naked and exposed for him. At the very least, he’ll let you unzip his pants to let his cock out. That’s what you get.
Jason stopped kissing you, held your arms over your head until your back was flat against the cold counter. Goosebumps covered your skin. You hadn’t been touched in too long, and you were here, ready for that to be remedied. Fucking Peter wouldn’t be able to fuck you right. No one can. Not like he was about to.
Your arms stayed over your head, instinctively after knowing what Jason would have otherwise demanded, then his name was all he could hear, in whispers and held-back screams, when his tongue lapped over the scorching skin of your breasts. It was darkness that overcame him, when his hand clamped over your mouth while his tongue swirled over your nipple. He couldn’t have you scream too loud, not if he didn’t want this to end so quickly and get caught.
Looking at you under his lashes, blue eyes dimmed by the lack of light, he touched and licked down your stomach, over the stretch marks left behind from the years of aging and giving birth to his boy. The love of his life, still looking perfect with your imperfect body; so undeniably beautiful that he couldn’t waste time any longer to taste your cunt.
The moment his tongue found your clit, fingers violating your hole without taking a minute to figure out the spots that made you stutter. With his fingers crooked and pressing up to your navel, mouth lapping over your juices and weeping pussy, he watched you cry into his hand and squirm over the kitchen counter for the mercy he wasn’t about to give.
Like music. You tasted, felt, sounded like music. You were gorgeous and writhing, a wife begging her husband to make her cum. Even when you were no longer that, he felt as married to you as the day you walked down the aisle. You were as beautiful, as elegant, as perfect as you were whenever his head was between your legs. Then your hands gently ran over his hair, his shoulders, everywhere you could reach over and touch, and he almost came at the sight of you when his hand circled your neck and he squeezed.
Sitting up on your elbow, you crouched over to watch him, his tongue and lips messily ravaging your pussy and your wetness smeared all over his mouth. You watched him fuck his fist just enough to ease his aching cock but not enough to cum just yet. “Yes. Right there,” you gasped, grounded your hips at him while you held his hair. Filthy. You watched him look up at you, with that same anger that had been since lunchtime that day. Now, instead of letting the anger out through hurtful words and screams, he was violently flicking his tongue over your clit until you were trembling off your feet. He felt you cum, hard but slow. But you wanted more. So much more. God, you’ll never stop giving in to him.
Good. He wasn’t even close to being done.
Jason flipped you over without warning, dug his fingers into your hole just to prepare yourself for him after too long, then he was inside you, filling you, claiming you. Your face was flat on the counter and you were just taking him without so much as trying to have control for yourself. Like your mind had blanked, like you wanted him to humiliate you like a fuck toy, you begged for more. Harder. Faster. Fuck me. That was how you wanted it. Did you want it to hurt, too? Did you want it to hurt as much as you hurt him?
He held you by the neck, lifted you until your back rubbed against his chest, then when you’d tilted your head to the side just enough to meet his eyes, his lips were all over you.
His one hand grabbed your breast. The other hoisted your left leg up to expose your cunt, to make him go deeper, harder. He impaled and touched every inch inside you until he’d left his mark, until all the lights would go off under your skin and he’ll walk out of this house knowing traces of him still trailed down your cunt. Fuck, were you a mess. A beautiful, helpless mess. He wanted so badly to leave love out of this, to stop believing he was making love to you and not just fucking you. He wanted your pussy to be just pussy, and not where he became one with the woman he once thought he’d spend the rest of his life with.
“Fuck you for breaking my heart so much,” he wept into your hair, tears no longer to his control. You cried, hard, but begged him to go harder through your muffled sobs. Jason pounded into you so hard it moved the counter. One hand wrapped around your neck, the other clamped over your mouth, just to stop you from screaming, he didn’t stop. Fuck you.
And fuck him for letting you.
You were begging him to fuck you like he hated you. And he did hate you. He hated you so fucking much.
You came again, just a while before he did. And it was blissful. It was everything. His cum spurted deep into your cunt where it would soon seep out into your thighs, a sight he always loved to witness. Your face and chest were pressed limp against the surface and he stood back, admiring his work. If only he had the heart to leave you as you were, still a panting mess over the counter, he would have. It would have been cruel, and perhaps that was what he should have done.
But Jason took a towel, wiped the mess clean from your soaked cunt, then led you both into the bedroom. It was your turn to show how much he hurt you, your turn to use him. You ripped every shred of clothing from his body and rode his painfully hard dick until dawn came.
Neither of you slept that night, with your flushed, sweating bodies tangled under the thin sheets. Your head was on his chest, his fingers tangled in your hair. As the wind whistled into the gaping window and pushed the curtains around you to dance, your arms and leg were draped over him, like you didn’t want him to leave. But you did. You wanted Jason to walk out of your life and not be your husband anymore.
And he wasn’t. This was the first time he fucked someone who wasn’t his wife since before you were married. And that was exactly what it felt like.
Someone who wasn’t his wife.
—–
He might never forgive you for breaking his heart.
But he’ll have to. Someday. If he wanted the days to pass and not have to curse the sun for not caring if he only wished for darkness. For damning the day for having the audacity to go on when he felt his whole world had stopped.
But you weren’t happy. Not for a long time.
He hadn’t been either. No matter how much he pretended to be.
Whatever measure it took just to spark some light into your soul again, even at the cost of both your hearts shattered, he’ll take it. He’ll hurt for the both of you. He’ll take your pain and have it for himself if he had to.
Just as the sun rose, you dressed and led Jason to the front door. Finally, it was bright enough to see your face.
He could have sworn you’ve never looked as beautiful as you did then.
You leaned against the doorway, watched him start for the first step off the porch, but he stopped, stared at his feet. The rustling of the early morning wind did nothing to aid the silence. Nothing could.
You stepped closer to reach for him, but Jason had already turned and grabbed your face, pressing his lips so delicately against yours until the last of your tears seeped into your lips. He could taste it. The salt of your tears. He’d never tasted anything so bitter and painful in his life.
It didn’t stop him. Not with it being the last of those beautiful moments.
Moments he could only be thankful were given to him at all.
He wouldn’t trade the time he had with you for the world.
You pulled away, gentle hands so warm against his cheeks. Your eyes closed, and underneath the orange glow of the sun, he knew better days were ahead of you. He couldn’t, for the life of him, tear his eyes away from that sight.
Then when you looked back at him, a soothing calm rushing down his limbs, he took the first step back.
“I’ll see you.”
You nodded. Not without a smile.
It wasn’t hard to smile back.
Jason walked to his car, drove to where the sun rose, and finally had that silence within be filled with the first of a song.
A boom tube that lasted that long couldn’t have taken him anywhere near earth at all.
This wasn’t Planet Earth.
This was somewhere far, far away.
She limped to Jason’s side, looking at the three suns setting peacefully. It was a beautiful sight. And he would have marveled over it if his heart hadn’t already dropped beneath his feet. She was silent. And tired.
But even as his body told him so, he didn’t feel like resting anytime soon.
WORDS: 10,270 | TW: VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF PAST TRAUMA
“I’ve never met anyone who looks at the sky as much as you do.”
That made him snicker, and not just through a breath out his nose. Jason let out a hearty, soft chuckle from deep in his chest, and it caught more than just her attention.
WORDS: 11,262 | TW: GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, DEATH
“Heal him,” she growled again. Anyone who heard her might have also been convinced it was that easy at all, the doctor included. His fingers were trembling when he touched Jason’s frozen head, neck, and chest.
Jason Todd is lost in an unknown realm light years away from Earth.
With not much hope to find his way back, his only companion is a cruel alien cyborg from the enemy fleet, one he’ll have to get along with to survive.
A/N: I CAN’T BELIEVE IT’S OVER. THIS SERIES TOOK ME THE LONGEST TIME BUT I WAS SO SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS TO EVEN MIND. THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR READING AND I LOVE YOU
WORDS: 18000 WARNINGS:GRAPHIC DEPICTIONS OF VIOLENCE, MIND CONTROL, BRAINWASH, MEMORY LOSS, NSFW SEXUAL CONTENT
Like the headlights that blind as death holds them to his face, the eyes that stared at him were as cold and empty as any blank red bulb. As they glowered like a sniper’s scope, she was gone. N/N lied through her teeth with her last words. Her humanity detached itself from its already weak ties; her face was as deathly as a gun’s smoking muzzle, ready to place a bullet between the eyes that crossed her.
Or crossed Z’arr. She had no thoughts. She had no feelings of anguish, vengeance, or anger. She was a machine powered by the hands of another, a robotic puppet no different from a remote-controlled toy truck. An android.
“Are you in the mood for a show?” Z’arr asked his men. They cackled in response and one of them clubbed the back of Jason’s head with his pipe of an arm.
All it took was a tap on Z’arr’s wrist, a control display that completely rid his precious N/N of her own mind.
A Kryptonian. And no other.
The machinery that held her arms opened, and before the rest of them could even hear the smoke exhaust, N/N obliterated the glass with her fists and leapt for the weakened Jason.
His back couldn’t possibly have broken that many walls on its own, but N/N held him by the shoulders, pushed without the aid of the wind to fly. With gravity being a feeble force no match for her strength, she threw Jason four rooms down.
Had his heart found its way to his head?
Because it was throbbing like one, like fists rattling a steel cage with an agitated gorilla calling for help.
But the blood had reached his eye sockets. For so long, all he could see was the red that spilled from his hairline; the stinging iron that would not leave his tongue. His back should have been in pieces. Perhaps it was, and that his flesh had the cruelty to hold itself together while none of his bones were intact.
He coughed a mouthful of blood. Around him, cyborgs were fleeing out of the food room. Some stayed, watched as if entertained. Some in horror. It was no different from the nosy crowds back at home.
Something grabbed him by the collar on his back, lifting him up so he hung like he was in the gallows. Jason clawed relentlessly at the static tightening in his neck, then he laid eyes on N/N who held him up like he weighed the same as feathers.
Her cold, red eyes. Nothing terrified him more. And she wanted him to have a slow fall into death’s arms, when he could feel his life being torn from his lungs. Jason reached for her arms, her shoulders. “N/N…”
Nothing. That was no longer her name.
“Please-“
It should have been a bullet that hit his chest, but nothing sliced his skin. Instead, it was her fist-with the might of an elephant’s foot leaving a crater on soil. The back of his head soon met a wall.
The shooting pains in his ribs stretched to every nerve stubborn enough to hold on. Already, N/N was in front of him, her feet not even touching the ground as she flew, then she held Jason by the neck to the wall.
“N/N,” he cried, “please. Please, it’s me…”
One hit to his ribs. Another to his face. The words only seemed to agitate her more. He couldn’t tell what was in his lips-if it was blood, sweat, tears, or all three. His jaw had broken by the third hit.
“Enough talking!” Cyborg voices echoed from outside. “Fight back, earthling!”
His body was skidding across the floor. Each time he rolled over his back, his bones punctured further into his lungs.
“He’s not even hitting back!”
“Is he crying?!”
More blood left his mouth. As his arms struggled to hold him above ground so it wouldn’t further shatter his bones, N/N slammed her foot against his back and for once, his screams were all to be heard. His vocal chords had distorted and he couldn’t even recognize his own cries.
Only once did he have this many bones broken before.
Just once.
That night.
But this time, it was worse. Because what gouged through his throat to rip his soul out was no one he hated. It was N/N. N/N.She was doing this to him.
This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her. This wasn’t her.
With the side of his face cementing itself to the cracking ground, he could move only his eyes. There was a wall in front of him: a wall tainted with his blood.
Still, his heart, granted with too many chances at life, would not easily slip away. His eyes trailed up to his assailant, a beautiful cyborg with the hands that once held him so gently, now watched his face distort as her foot dug further into his spine.
No pain was greater than having both the mind and body shatter all at once.
“Enough.”
A push of a button.
That was all it took.
N/N stopped and stepped away. She was as stiff as an object, a piece of machinery, standing still and upright just as Z’arr approached them from behind.
“What’s another assessment, earthling? It is the test before we’d bother to replace your parts.”
The Martian did not kneel to his side and only looked down on him like he was dead pest on the ground.
“You’re a stubborn one. We can work with that,” he turned to his me. “Take him back to his cell.”
That night, the pain could not lull him to sleep like it tends to. Everything was silent. Everything was deafening.
—–
She shattered all ten of his ribs.
More than that, he was sure. He couldn’t, quite literally, lift even a finger.
His breaths were counted. Even with shards of his own bones puncturing his lungs, he forced himself to breathe. Every time he did, it was like driving a knife further down his chest.
Nothing had ever been so broken within him that he wished death would just waltz in invited, but he wasn’t allowed that. Not this time.
N/N broke him.
N/Ndid this to him.
But it wasn’t her.
But it was her.
Always. She’d always been so capable of being so cruel. How was this any different from how she treated him the first time they met?
If only she were as capable at the Watchtower or at the deserts as she was now, he wouldn’t have died differently than in the pitiful state he was in.
One dose of their magical serum wasn’t enough. They had to come in and inject him twice for anything to work. Apparently, they never had a recruit with as much damage from an assessment as he did.
They never had N/N for a torturer either.
Days after, or perhaps it had only been hours, Jason had healed. The pain was still there, of course. And even when it no longer hurt to breathe, it hurt to still exist, to live.
From within his cell, he could only sit and watch as they did the same atrocities to Roy as they did him. Only less, since he was no Lazarus-enhanced earthling. But he was strong all the same and they deemed him worthy for a few parts. His eyes and arms especially. The better to shoot arrows with, dear.
When they left Roy with the serum snapping his bones back into place, he had the strength to look up to his friend. He should be furious, screaming at him for even having the heart to just sit and watch. Hell, Jason didn’t even have the decency to look away.
But he was just as quiet.
Even he knew Jason was long gone, even with all the wounds healed and fixed. He was shattered and no serum could ever fix that. This test wasn’t to see if their bodies were capable. It was to rid them of their humanity and hope.
He was only sorry he couldn’t save Roy, like all the other times their shenanigans were only saved by the strike of luck. Roy stared at Jason for the whole of the night. He accepted this. They’d accepted death. If only it was the same as dying, it would have been okay.
His Red Hood helmet disturbed the darkness with a beeping red light, as it did when it received a message from its transmitters. He didn’t hold it up to his head, but he at least had the strength to listen.
“JASON. IT’S ME, ORA. WE’RE GONNA GET YOU OUT. YOU AND ROY KEEP YOURSELVES ALIVE UNTIL WE-“
Deleted the message before it even finished. This was delusion at this point.
As if it wasn’t her doing, Jason closed his eyes and let the last lingering memories of N/N and her smile bring him that momentary peace. It lasted the night, almost as if her arms were close around his shoulders.
By the end of it, there were other hands that grabbed him, leading Jason out of his cell. There was no saving him. There was no saving this.
They made the hallways as narrow, cold, and empty as possible as if they purposely wanted their hope to further become ash. They held his arms behind his back, as if it were needed when Jason hadn’t the strength to even speak.
They passed a room where the cyborgs stood eerily still, without the mind to at least twitch.
A cyborg with the face of a beautiful blue-skinned alien was being rid of her arms, replaced with the same as the Brainiac’s androids. Beside her was one who’d already gone too far to be saved, a friend of hers that no longer had a face, but a cold, empty skull he’d seen far too many times. Soon enough, they’ll be supply for Brainiac’s next invasion.
He couldn’t understand the thin cyborg-with the same built as a grasshopper-holding a holographic clipboard. From the looks of Jason’s anatomy projected above the screen, they were replacing a whole lot of him, more than they should. His arms, already so large, looked double its size. The cybernetic replacements for his thighs looked deadly enough to snap three necks at a time. His brain would be completely ripped from his skull and his chest no different from a steel shell of a machine’s engine. His handsome face would be no more, and instead by a faceless plate of metal with two slits for eyes and a mouth nothing more than a dent. It looked exactly like the Red Hood.
His heart: a cold piece of fuel, like the battery of a ship.
His hands, most of all, no longer looked to be of a human’s. In place of fingers, palms that flushed red of his blood, he had blasters out of his wrists; guns like the ones Bruce repeatedly told him not to use. Karma was not just a bitch. She was sadistic, too.
A tank. Of course. They wanted to build him to be a tank. Like N/N.
He all but rolled his eyes.
The room they took him in had a pod where he’d lie down. They strapped the large man to the bed, even when he showed no restraint. Above him was a blinding white light: the last he’d ever see with the eyes he had now.
He always did think he had pretty eyes. Blue. Like the dust clouds of a nebula on the black skies.
Jason closed them, wanting the feel of his fluttering eyelids to last. Then he let the dreams play out: the dreams of home. The visions were peaceful, gentle.
He thought those visions would stop when they’d drill a screw into his skull.
But it stopped when no other than a sudden flash of fire that scorched the room in black, dispersing ash. Then there were the shrieks of frantic pigs, or the horrified cries of birds.
His eyes shot open when the fire hit too close to his face. Once more, his blood was pumping like it only took then for anything to wake him. He struggled with the shackles but couldn’t move. The fire killed more of his captors. The only one who lived was the grasshopper who put up no fight and instead, curled at the corners of the room begging Ora to spare him.
She did, thankfully. Ora shed her disguise as one of Jason’s guards and sighed as her mohawk almost touched the ceiling. “We don’t have much time,” she said, already throwing Jason his helmet and weapons. “We’ll get you out of here.”
Was this that very delusion?
Should he take it?
The Fleet did an awful good job making sure there was none of that, even when hope was being served on a shiny platter with a bib around his neck.
Ora tore the shackles apart. “Come on-“
“Are you sure?” Jason asked. If it were any other case, they’d already be out the door. This was the days of mental torture talking. “We can’t get out of this-“
“Aya has Roy. A ship is waiting for us. Let’s go-“
“Why are you helping me?”
Ora shook him by the shoulders.
“N/N made me promise. That enough of a reason for you?”
N/N.
N/N.
No prison cell could keep her down.
Or at least, stop her from saving Jason one last time.
Ora didn’t wait for Jason to object. She sped out the door, shooting fire out of her hands at anything that moved. The alarm blared through every speaker in the Station, and already, he could hear the many cyborgs coming in from the ceiling, the corners, even the floor.
“Ora,” Jason pleaded when his legs grew too weak, “N/N is too strong-“
“I know you’re afraid of her,” Ora held Jason by the waist, “we all are. There’s no one in this ship with half her strength.”
“I wasn’t going to say I was afraid, but that was reassuring.”
“Let’s just hope we don’t have to run into her.”
When her fire could no longer melt the steel, they ran by foot out of the food room for the hangars. The walls suddenly broke down at the might of a Mace of the strongest metal.
Aya shielded herself from the flying debris with her gigantic metal wings. At her side, strapped like a babe, was Roy shooting arrows at incoming cyborgs they didn’t even see.
He raised a hand to Jason like a salute. Then Jason grabbed his guns from his hips.
Roy jumped to his side and they paved their dangerous ways into the rubble. Soon enough, the ruckus would reach the Captain and they couldn’t afford to allow them the time. Aya grabbed them both by the collars, Ora used her fire to free their path, and Jason and Roy shot at anything that even moved. The androids for Brainiac, the cyborgs that looked still too similar to him, all crowded to stop them.
But they reached the hangar, thankfully, after breaking down several walls. The ship couldn’t possibly have lasted, and the floor quaking beneath them only sealed that. Finally, as if a rush of air was there to greet them, they reached the main deck where the plasma ceilings distorted the vast, open skies; the stars singing their misses for Jason as he realized it’d been days since he last saw them.
Ora started for a ship that would have immediately left the terminal. It was then. Hope. As easily as it’d left him, his soul rushed to every ends of his body until there could only be that haste to save themselves.
That ship, however, did not even get to say its finalities. Hope had a little setback as everyone with a sense stood stiff in helpless fear.
N/N shot from the sky, or wherever she came from, with her red, unblinking eyes much like the burn of a star. Her feet landed on the ship itself and it posed no fight nor chance against her weight. The whole ship broke down beneath her; not even with a dent or a crater. It exploded like a canon shot through the whole of it until it was nothing but ash and flying debris, fire catching like a warm, dramatic welcome.
N/N,the Cyborg, grabbed what was left of the ship and tossed it until it drifted out into the vacuum. Like waves parting for a terrifying deity, the fire subsided and the other cyborgs, a whole army of them, stood at the side.
Earthlings stood no chance. That wasn’t a question.
Tamaranians and Thanagarians could. They were strong by themselves.
But against a Kryptonian?
Perhaps not even the Justice League could easily get out of this, like they hadn’t when the whole team went against Clark.
Silence.
Like death in space.
Like the stars that made no sound.
Or the hovering asteroids that wouldn’t whisper even as it collided with its own brethren.
Ora shot what she could out of her palms. But the flames were subtle. Scared.She was so terrified of her own friend, she couldn’t even hold the sweat from extinguishing her own flames.
Aya was no different. Perhaps out of everyone, she feared N/N the most. The largest, most capable being out of the ones on his side, the mace on her hand was shaking like something quaked her.
Jason and Roy. The supposed helpless earthlings. They should be afraid. For what was left out of their lives, they should at least anticipate what would come.
The glowing red eyes had set them as targets. N/N stood unmoving, arms stretched and ready to pounce like a waiting lioness. Her feet looked unshaken even with the ground beyond repairs beneath her.
Help her. Save her.
The voice that echoed, he hoped to ignore.
At Z’arr’s unspoken command, N/N tore through the winds like a bullet shot out of a large gun.
He wasn’t spared the warning of at least having seenher move. The next thing he knew, Jason was pinned to the wall several yards away. His back tore a crater once again, but the pain thankfully didn’t have to last. As he stared at N/N’s eyes, bright enough that it hurt to look, there was nothing but blankness. Not N/N. M-812
Aya’s mace reverberated through the whole part of the ship. The impact was so large, so loud, the clang of metal sounded the same as a ship crashing on cold grounds. To the side of her head, finally, something was strong enough to throw N/N off her stance.
Then her aim was set on Aya, a grit showing that it at least hurt. N/N and Aya pounced at each other like two panthers at a brawl from opposite ends of the ship. No wind stood a chance in their way.
Jason fell but he didn’t wait for the rest to come for him. Not with the cyborgs and half-done androids coming for them. Ignoring everything in him that shattered, he shot at anyone and anything, hiding behind a large cart that’d been thrown to its side.
Roy was at the other side of the hangar, shooting at the bots that flew over his head. Some of the arrows struck just the right place for it to come crashing to the floor. The others that missed, he sadly could no longer retrieve when it escaped out of the plasma walls and out drifting into space.
He could last like this. He could survive the thousands of cyborgs. With a blaster or two and a best friend who stuck to his side, they could last.
But what happened above them was infinitely more interesting.
Aya’s wings shot her miles above the plasma threshold. Holding her throat, N/N did not scream. The wings that flapped like a hawk caught in a storm blurred what they could make out of the scene. The shards where the feathers should have been were terrifying. They pounced for N/N’s skin, but none could pierce it. Aya flew them both further to the sky as N/N thrashed in her hold. When Aya threw her off, immediately she clubbed her with the mace to her head before N/N could recover.
Unfortunately, it was all she could manage. Aya couldn’t keep up with N/N as she narrowly drifted and swerved away from the mace.
Aya was too slow. When she lunged herself forward, N/N threw herself to grab the Thanagarian by the shoulders, squeezing until the metal crushed beneath her fingers. Then she spun, fast enough for a whirlwind to appear even in a vacuum. Aya was thrown back to the ship with an impact that engulfed a part of it in flames.
Ora had only just held off an army of androids from her tail when she looked up, knowing she was the next target.
Up.
Up.
N/N.
She hovered like a star and shone like one.
Like the Kryptonians Jason knew before her, she was flying over the ship. To no force that could pull her to the grounds. To no wind that could stand in her way; like a deity, like a god who saved, only she wasn’t. She floated above their heads, fixating her aim on Ora.
Ora thrusted herself up like a rocket. A blast was enough to hold her off, for a while, but N/N escaped the dark flames unscathed without even her skin twitching from the burn. The red from her eyes shone through the ash and she soar from yards up the ground like a failing comet, a light trailing behind her as she dove, and grabbed Ora by the throat.
They disappeared beneath the ship’s deck, destroyed as they shot down stories below and obliterating everything in their way. Past the floors, breaking at each impact of Ora’s back; the hole on the ground was enough to quake the whole ship, and for how large it was underneath, it took minutes long before they exploded out of the hull below.
Somehow, Ora lived through that. She was fleeing back up to the heights above the Station, even with it slow to collapse possibly into two halved pieces. Her shots of fire did no damage and her punches couldn’t make even a dent.
When N/N threw her miles from where they hovered, Ora propelled herself with powerful thrusters bursting past the lack of light. And with that built strength and speed, she pushed N/N off her steady hover until her back ultimately met with Aya’s mace.
The Earthlings on the hangar, surviving with whatever thread of a life they could helplessly hold onto, would soon run out of ammo and arrows. Thankfully, they’d put up a fight against the relatively weakercyborgs. If Jason had the sense to be sarcastic, he’d joke about being the baby. When Roy rushed to his side of the cart to hide with him, however, he beat him to that.
“How does it feel not being the big guns for once?” Roy screamed.
“It’s a fucking treat!”
The battle above to the stars and the one below it was the kind of chaos that shouldn’t have lasted as long as it did.
When N/N had her attention set on Aya, she flew them away from the ship to the stars none of them could see.
Then Ora fell to their side, shielding Jason and Roy before the cart that protected them lost its stretch of life. They rose from their place on the ground.
“The lower decks!” Ora cried through the screams. “Get the Mother Box!”
“What?!”
Ora overheated an android just before it would have come for Jason.
“The Mother Box! He can save N/N!”
She didn’t need to say more.
Jason and Roy might as well have held hands when they paved their way through the unforgiving crowd of debris, laser blasts, and even limbs thrown to their direction. He shot his blaster, praying the ammo wouldn’t die until they’d reached inside the ship, and Roy used the last of his arrows and even picked up stray rods from the ground to shoot at the cyborgs.
Through the hole N/N made on the main deck, Roy stuck an arrow to the floor, fashioned a rope to its end as quick as a boy scout tying a knot, and they suspended themselves down to the collapsing floors and slabs that was almost falling out of their beams. Just before someone cut the ropes, they fell to the lower deck and they rolled to extinguish the fire on their clothes.
“Do you know where we’re going?”
“Just run!”
More tailed them. Some flew. Some crawled like insects. One thing was for sure: too many of them were after a couple of earthlings supposedly posing as no threat. They blindly shot behind them, but as they reached a hallway that curved corners like a maze, not a lot of them could keep up.
When one android grabbed Jason by the foot, Roy had blown up its head with an arrow that short circuited its brain, frying the rest of its body until it was limp on the floor. Another jumped for Roy, and with Jason being larger, he kneed the cyborg to the stomach, shot its head with a blast between the eyes.
A large door at the farthest end of the hallway; probably meant to hold a prized prisoner.
As he should be.
And it was open. Someone was inside.
The incoming mob was growing. Only instead of actual pitchforks being thrown their way, their hands morphed into steel shards like the ends of a knife and they pounced for the earthlings’ flesh. “Hide!” Roy screamed, and they rushed behind the door, bolted it shut before a hand would have grabbed their throats.
Jason didn’t know if locking the door would be any help without thinking of how the fuck they were going to get out of that place.
But it was the least of their worries when the silence overcame the conundrum. Jason tapped on Roy’s shoulder to calm him. He was not calm. None of them should be calm. But they were quiet, unlike their beating hearts.
Captain Z’arr hovered like a ghost. His face, sharp as if his chin could cut steel, was as unmoving as his glare on them. His eyes were red, but they didn’t glow like lights. They were blank and dark. And in his hand, the damned scepter with a shred of Kryptonite encased near the tip.
Roy drew an arrow from his quiver, only having so much left behind, before Jason held out an arm to stop him.
Behind Z’arr was the very answer to this discourse: the bright, blinding beacon that so suddenly filled Jason with the needed hope.
It was all so tragic.Of course, the Fleet of cyborgs would want him. A Cyborg that could change bank numbers at just a thought, who had a connection to every artificial intelligence or anything with a circuit board in the universe.
Whose physical strength was just the tip, the verytip, of what he could do.
Perhaps the King of all Cyborgs.
Victor Stone had grown thin and worn. Whatever horrors they’d put him through, months after he was last seen, it’d taken its horrific toll. He posed a fight, that was certain, but he was alive. He was intact.
He was asleep, stuck to the wall with his arms outstretched like the Vitruvian Man.
Had they rid him of his humanity? Of his mind? Had they already done their damage enough that saving him would only risk the whole universe?
His face, bruised from unspeakable horrors, did not answer. But it moved as if to take a breath. Cyborgs didn’t have to breathe if they weren’t programmed to.
They could save him still.
Z’arr hovered to them, and the wall stopped Roy and Jason from backing up any further.
“We might be pretty fucking useless out there,” Jason gulped, “but I wouldn’t underestimate us against you.”
The Martian did not laugh. “I would not underestimate me either, earthling,” he grinned. “You might know of my kind-“
“Yourkind, who you were supposed to fight with for your own planet,” he shot at him.
Z’arr took no liking to his knowledge of his history. “Watch your tongue.”
“Or what?”
“Iam the Captain of this Fleet-“
“And you are a weakling who sucks up to superiors by sacrificing his own men. And you’ve done it twice.”
Z’arr shot a shard of metal he got from God knows where at their direction, and it bounced off the steel door before Roy and Jason separated.
“You do not know of what you speak-“
“I know exactly what I speak.”
Roy, at the other side of the cell’s holding, hid behind the crates and desks while Z’arr shot another slab of metal at Jason.
“You betray the Green Martians,” Jason shot with his blaster, “and now you betray the Fleet-“
Z’arr flew to where he thought Jason hid, but the asshole somehow made it to the ceiling, and he jumped for Z’arr with a knife to his shoulder. Z’arr shrieked before he pried it out, but Jason already hid somewhere he couldn’t see.
“First the White Martians, now Brainiac? Is you being a suck up ever going to stop?”
“Enough!”
Z’arr swung his Kryptonite scepter at Jason as if the rock had any effect on him.
“Face it. You’re no Captain.”
Blasters shot for Z’arr’s shoulder. His ear-piercing shriek almost threw him off.
“Iamthe Captain.”
“A Captain leads his army to war,” Jason said, “All you do is throw your loyalty around because you can’t protect yourself, even at the cost of your own men.” Another knife thrown at Z’arr’s shoulder. This was too easy. “You’re the biggest coward in the galaxy, Z’arr.”
That surely set him off.
The Martian cried but no longer to fight the pain. None of the crates could hold him, and as Jason managed to lift one over his shoulders, throwing it at Z’arr’s direction, it merely passed through his body as if he were made of air. Right. Martian. Almost forgot they could do that.
Z’arr grabbed him by the shoulders, pinned Jason’s body to the wall just at Victor’s side. His punches were strong, though none he hasn’t already seen. Jason grabbed his fists, twisted it enough to make him lose his hold. He struggled. He shook. It was enough.
“You are of no worth, a brat owned by that annoyance of an earthling, the Batman,” Z’arr growled, “do not underestimate me.”
“I think I overestimatedyou.”
“Have you always been this much talk, you insect?” his static voice eerily crept to his ear. When Jason grabbed him by the throat, he snarled back.
“My guy, that’s the point.”
Z’arr looked at him quizzically amidst their struggle for power.
“You know what the Batman taught me?” Jason grinned, “Keep your enemies talking.”
The realization hit him like a brick.
Roy had unknowingly placed bombs all over the walls and crates that scattered around Z’arr. All it took was for Jason to kick him to the ground, brace for cover, then Roy shot at the trigger. At the slightest impact of the arrow’s tip to a bomb that wasn’t even an inch in size, the whole side of the wall exploded into bursting flames: the one thing Z’arr could not stand.
He disappeared into the cloud of smoke and the flares too bright for them to see through. Maybe he perished, burnt to a crisp. It sounded that way when his shrieks were as painful to hear as a knife being driven into their drums. When the explosion subsided and the room was covered in debris, their first instinct was to rush to Victor.
“You alright?” Jason asked Roy.
“I’m fine. How do we wake him up?”
Any wrong touch could be lethal to Victor.
What they did to the holding cell, however, didn’t afford them the chance to find out. There was a lever, much like the throttle for a ship, that was pushed way up on the control panel. The rest of it were buttons he no longer understood. That red lever looked to be the obvious answer.
Without warning, Jason pulled that lever down.
The tubes that held Vic to the wall exhausted open, with month-old smoke spewing out of the many cracks. Only a tube that clawed itself to the back of his head held onto Vic. He fell to the ground, the rest of him thankfully unhurt, but he was cold and unconscious.
“Come on, Vic, wake up.”
“We got company.”
The door burst open at last with a whole mob coming for them. “Cover us,” he told Roy.
The tube to his head. That was what reprogrammed N/N.
But Vic was a Mother Box. They couldn’t have possibly reprogrammed him so easily.
It was a stretch that could go horribly wrong, and none would forgive him even himself. But there wasn’t the time, and the rest of the cyborg army was getting too much for the archer to handle.
With his bare hands, Jason pried the tube from Vic’s skull, its claw shooting sparks when it finally detached.
Vic gasped for breath like he’d been held to the ocean for months, the air to his lungs bringing color back to his skin which had grown so noticeably lifeless.
Shit.
Shit.
Vic shot up to his feet and threw Jason to the wall. Roy ran for cover.
It wasn’t Vic. It was his armor’s defense system.
The mob of cyborgs stood stiff at the sight of the Mother Box. Mindlessly, Vic’s first instinct was to fire at anything that posed a threat.
As long as they didn’t move, they’d be fine. “Roy, hide!”
They took cover behind the crates. All he could see was this blinding beacon out of Vic’s machine arm that tore through every shape of matter that stood its way. Some escaped, leaped from its way before the shot would have completely burnt their bodies to ash. Vic did not stop until none of the mob was left behind.
When it subsided into smoke, there was silence.
Jason and Roy peaked from over the crates and Vic had fallen to the floor, grabbing his head. “Vic-“
Victor aimed his arm at them, instinctively anxious. They raised their hands to surrender and with a voice the friendliest it could be, something Vic could recognize, Jason hummed.
“It’s us. Jason. Roy Harper. You know us.”
“Stay away-“
“Jason Todd.” He tried reaching out but Vic only kept with his aim.
“It’s us. You’re Victor Stone.”
Another throb in his head threw him off his stance. Vic fell forward, clawing at his skull like it was gnawing at his bones. His screams were as low as whispers, but spoke the same pain. When Jason rushed to grab him by the shoulders, Vic no longer threw him away.
“It’s us. We’re here to help. Please, Victor.”
When Jason held his head, as if it were any help to ease him, Vic met his eyes.
“Jason. It’s me. Jason.”
His eyes. His beautiful blue eyes. They spoke to Victor when they had him in their hold. Perhaps it was a reminder of the oceanic blue of Earth, or the homely gaze of welcoming arms.
“J-Jason?”
“Yes.”
He hugged Victor. He never hugged him before. But it was the first of what he needed.
“Jason…”
“What did they do to you, Vic?”
“I-I was…” he choked, perhaps still contemplating if he spoke at all, “t-they took me, did all these tests…”
“Do you remember anything?”
“I remember everything.”
When his voice dipped into that recognizable depth, he knew it won’t be long before they had their friend back
“We need your help.”
“Jason, we have to go,” Roy said when he looked out of what was left of the door. Jason reached for Vic’s arm. “I can walk,” he insisted, pulling himself on his feet.
“I hope you can do more than that, pal.”
When Roy and Vic headed out the door, Jason set his eyes on the Kryptonite scepter left unmoving amid the debris.
And every voice of reason begged him to take it, if their lives meant anything to him at all.
If they meant more to him than N/N.
But it wasn’t N/N anymore.
That thing could kill her.
She’d never forgive him.
He’ll never forgive himself.
They didn’t need it. They had Vic.
But Vic was no Kryptonian.
He couldn’t face N/N alone and win. No one can.
And a voice, the only one he both wished to hear and begged to forget, was echoing into the walls in his head, with the ringing that deafened him and the trembling grounds that pushed him.
Bruce.
Only Bruce had ever singlehandedly faced a Kryptonian and won.
A powerless earthling.
And all that plagued his mind was just that.
How did Bruce do it?
He didn’t have to be Bruce. Not just yet.
But the part of him that wasBruce, a product of fighting years of desperately trying not to be, grabbed the scepter and strapped it to his back.
It at least didn’t take too long for them to rush back out to the halls, past the corridors they’d blown up and the remains of fallen cyborgs left on the ground. Cyborg grabbed them both with his arms and flew them up to the surface.
They suddenly wished they hadn’t.
There was too much blood, the engineered blue that spilled on the floor, for anyone to have survived.
Aya laid close to lifelessness in the midst of the fiery debris, without a muscle twitching or moving her mace away from being horribly stretched behind her back. A crate weighed on top of her so she couldn’t heal or even move.
Ora’s screams were horrific before they were finally silenced. Where she laid: a crater the size of a meteorite’s impact on hard soil. Her own flames burnt her, with her arms pinned to the sides of her body and a steel slab that hugged her like a python. Only N/N’s hands could have possibly molded the steel to bend that way.
They should have cowered away like any sane man would, but they only took a step back when N/N slammed herself on the ship’s deck once again.
Her red eyes fixed on them, and her head tilted as if it was curious.
On Vic, of course. Her sensors were probably going nuts at the sight of the Mother Box.
Vic’s defense system was quick to act. When his arm molded into an impressive blaster the size of a tank’s machine gun, the beams that shot out of him were enough to throw N/N across the hangar. She crashed to the wall.
And even when it barely made a dent on her skin, it was enough for her systems to react.
N/N flew like a bullet aiming for Victor’s head. The beams, at least, had the sense to keep shooting quick enough before she would have crashed him. N/N came to a screeching halt, swerved before the blast hit her. And when she was all but hovering over them to avoid every blast that came her way.
But the blasts couldn’t hold N/N for too long. She pounced at Vic like a speeding hawk and grabbed him by the shoulders, dragging him across the metal grounds to scrape it with his body until a long trail marked the main deck. She threw Cyborg for the plasma walls possibly knowing he couldn’t breathe in space.
But he saved himself with his thrusters just before his head crossed the threshold. Vic flew back on safer grounds, firing his beams to keep N/N at bay.
Vic had no chance of getting close enough to N/N’s head, rid her of Z’arr’s control without possibly dying himself.
Perhaps Ora was in that same delusion that N/N still could be saved.
How do you save someone when she was that very thing they were fighting against?
She was a weapon, built to go after anything that posed a threat.
Jason held the scepter, gripped on it tight until his fingers were worn, then he shot the last of his blasters at N/N’s head. It only bounced against her skin, but it caught her attention.
When she set her eyes, her sensors,on Jason, the blank look on her face was much like a recalibrating machine.
With this plan of his, or the lack of it at least, he had to remember this wasn’t N/Nhe faced.
The Kryptonian Cyborg eyed the scepter and he could have sworn he heard a hiss out of her lips. The first instinct of any programmed machine was to destroy the biggest threat in its way.
What bigger threat was there, other than the only piece of matter in the galaxies that could ever pierce a Kryptonian’s flesh?
Her head turned for a crate. Quickly, N/N flew for one and grabbed it over her shoulders, tossing it at Jason’s direction before he could even move to avoid it. He couldn’t, and it shattered above him. He lost his grip on the scepter and when the crate broke, N/N grabbed for his throat and flew Jason to the closest wall to pin him against it.
She could not touch that scepter if she didn’t want the Kryptonite to burn her. She could only kill the one that held it.
She flew them far away from the Kryptonite before it could possibly weaken her, and her hand no longer felt the throb of blood beating through her veins. Like a steel rod was being pushed to his throat, it shouldn’t have been long before his neck breaks like shards of glass against a boot.
But he wasn’t dead just yet.
That second was all that mattered.
This.
This time, he had to fight back.
He was Jason Todd.
He died.
He lived again.
And if there was one thing not a lot of people knew,
It was how this was not the first time he ever broke a Kryptonian’s hold.
No earthling should have done it. Hell, he could feel every eye on him twitch, staring widely at the scene so unbelievably true.
His hands were shaking.
But they pried N/N’s indestructiblehands from being wrapped around his throat, and as the air shot back up to his head, he only grew stronger. It was quick, a flash one would have missed in a blink.
Jason pushed himself off N/N’s grip and ducked before her fist landed on the wall.
It shouldn’t have happened.
But it happened.
Jason was back on his feet. A voice called out from afar. Roy.
His friend tossed him the scepter.
N/N’s face couldn’t physically distort to look mortified, but she no longer pounced so easily. Not when Jason had the scepter.
With that little shred of Kryptonite, he could end this.
He could end her.
She would have wanted him to.
How did Bruce do it?
How did Bruce defeat Clark all those years ago?
With his undying wit, the immovable willpower to subdue his loved ones when needed, and a pound of Kryptonite.
N/N was gritting. She couldn’t feelanything, but even then, she looked furious.
But when she jumped for Jason, all it took was a swing of his scepter and already, she was thrown yards across the ground.
Jason held it close enough until she was crawling, shielding her eyes from the Kryptonite’s glow.
He had to be Bruce this time.
Of all times, it had to be now.
Now. To N/N.
This was not the N/N he survived with, kissed, held, and made love to. This was a thoughtless android who’d kill him at any moment’s hesitation. It was no different from their first brawls. ThatN/N, he needed to subdue. He could do it now. Suppress everything else that happened after.
Tears drenched his face. Was this how it was supposed to end?
Any contact with the rock was lethal. If she doesn’t live through this-
Do it, Jason, Bruce screamed.
“I’m sorry…”
The scepter stabbed N/N by the shoulder. Only then, even when her mind couldn’t possibly have allowed her to feel pain, her screams were the deafening cries of help he wanted desperately to come aid. But he was there to cause it, to draw more of it. The Kryptonite glowed until the light couldn’t allow them to see through their own cries, and when he couldn’t shield it with his arms, Jason lifted the scepter up, lifting N/N along with it impaling deeper into her arm.
She grabbed its hilt, her stubborn, willful spirit still there despite the reprogramming that shouldn’t have allowed her the thought. And when she caught Jason’s tear-flooded eyes, fighting through her screams, he knew there was no going back.
Even when she loses, she does not accept defeat.
So there was a trace of her left after all. Only N/N would have used the last stretch of her strength to spit at her killer’s face.
With wide eyes, Jason saw the end of him. N/N blew onto the scepter and a deathly crawl of icy frost formed where her breath blew like a storm’s wind.
And he couldn’t move fast enough before her freeze breath reached Jason’s hand.
Screaming at the ice that tore through his flesh, N/N crushed the scepter’s staff with the last of her strength, and a string of destruction crept to where he could no longer move. Just as she did, only then did Vic finally get close enough to her, his hand like a claw as it sunk deep into N/N’s skull.
Jason couldn’t feel a thing. Not at first. The ice was enough to subdue the pain.
But once he laid eyes on his frozen hand that’d shattered into pieces, torn from his wrist like it was so easily detached, all the excruciating pain surged in an instant’s wave.
But he couldn’t fall out of consciousness, not when everything was screaming at him like this.
With his hand gone, the pain felt eternal.
Like the stars burned beneath his skin. There was no finger for him to reach the sky with. Nothing he could writhe and shake to show just how terrified he was. He looked up, at the unending stars splattered like paint. How he used to watch them like a marvel. Now, they faced him in death.
Turning to his side, he was so suddenly drawn to N/N’s screams that echoed out into the chasms.
She was on her knees, crying both from the Kryptonite still lodged into her flesh and Vic’s claw on her skull, rewiring her brain once more. It was belittling, going against everything she’d fought relentlessly against for years. She wanted so badly to have a mind of her own, and she couldn’t even have that.
This had to happen.
Vic held on for the most of it. When it was done, when the light out of her eyes finally was rid of the blank red so at loss of life, her screams came to a halt. Vic released the claw from her head and she fell limp on the ground.
Someone so strong never looked so helpless. So innocent. Not a trace of fury etched on her face.
Even when he just had his whole hand frozen off, and his blood pooling all over the ground, Jason was already crawling to her body. His tears were never so painful to sting his eyes. His good hand reached for her, helplessly. He could barely sit upright, but that was what he did.
Jason crawled to her side with his whole body like hauling a sack. Crying her name in a whisper only he could hear, his pleas were inaudible. Her name, repeatedly out of his lips, was like a prayer. Roy held Victor off from rushing to help Jason. No one can help him.
His senses slowly came rushing. Or what was left of them, at least.
Jason dug through her flesh with his fingers, crying at the obvious pain that would have caused her and the lack of screams, the lack of color on her beautiful lips. He grabbed the shards of Kryptonite that had dug itself deep into her shoulder and he tossed every trace of it far away, past the plasma walls so they may be lost into space.
Every trace of it. Every rock.
When it slowly started to heal, his breaths slowed. His whole body wanted to just fall. Jason held her face, his tears falling onto N/N’s bloodstained cheeks. The loss of blood out of his hand would soon take its toll. As it long should have.
Jason pressed his forehead on N/N’s, begging that she wake. “Please… Please… N/N… Don’t die on me, Tiger…”
Roy kicked the last of the Kryptonite far off into space.
Then her beautiful, soft lips flushed a faint red.
Her cheeks rose with color. And her chest rose as her lungs filled.
When her eyes opened, no longer did a cruel gaze of red light stare back at him.
It was her. Hereyes.
And they stared at Jason like she’d seen the first of a star’s shine. With it, a trace of confusion. Reprogramming rids her of her memories.
She didn’t know who he was anymore.
But she was alive. She was N/N.
The blood loss didn’t allow him the time to revel. Everything had grown dark before he could speak.
—–
The man that held her fell to the floor before she could say anything.
His hand was gone, soiling the metal grounds with his blood. A red-haired earthling rushed to him at the instant, and the many cyborgs that circled them watched her stand as if she was an unfolding scene to witness. And it was.
Thousands of heartbeats surrounded her. She could hear everything. Seeeverything. And every single heart was frantic at the sight of her like they were afraid. They twitched when she moved and their hearts sped faster.
Her fists tightened, ready to pounce at any wrong slight of hand.
There was a cyborg, one that looked different from the rest, that spoke to her through voices that echoed only in her mind. His skin was dark, with half a face left of what used to be his flesh. An earthling, or he used to be one. His voice, only she could hear, was soothing.
Curiously, N/N took a step to the cyborg.
‘We are not the enemy,’ he whispered to her.
She was right to be skeptical.
But his heartbeat was steady. He had one, beneath all the steel. There was no trace of a lie. Like flashing scenes that took its time to gradually come to her senses, he helped her remember.
There was a bright yellow sun.
Tears. There were tears that seeped out of her. Until there wasn’t.
Everything was red. It was all she could see.
Then there was a man, a cruel man with a cruel mind she could read. That very mind was what spoke to her. A man with green skin, red eyes. And for a while, his was the only voice she could hear.
And it told her to do so much she didn’t want to do. The first order he gave was to take the life of the earthling on the ground, then of the other cyborgs like her, of everything that was a threat to him.
‘He is the enemy,’ the cyborg spoke again. ‘He tortured me, too.’
Torture.
It only lasted days-the resurfacing memories only a handful.
But she could tell there was more to it.
She looked down and the floor faded from sight. Everything was transparent, like the hearts beneath the steel. Her x-ray vision saw past the many layers down to the ship’s hull, searching for that one, frantic heartbeat of a coward running for his life.
When she caught that very heartbeat, she shot herself into the ground, breaking through those borders like a blast out of a gun. Everything broke to her touch, fragile to hold; nothing was comparable to her might.
There.The heartbeat. A coward’s heartbeat hoping none could see him. He was rushing for a ship. Not this time.
Every wall in her way broke against her fist. With speeds blurring the matter that couldn’t keep up with her sight, she tore through the ship’s innards until she reached the secret hangar.
And the man, the Captain, was hiding by the crates, shaking like a lone pup. He posed no fight even with him thrashing like a child in her hold, when she grabbed him by his cloak’s collar to fly them both miles away from the Station.
Where no eyes could see, where only the twinkling lights from faraway stars could witness her doing, she floated into the airless chasm and looked to the skies for the nearest fiery sun.
The Captain figured what she was doing long after she’d flown them another few million miles for a star, a shining yellow with dangerous flares reaching for this man’s skin to burn it. He pleaded, but no sound could come out of his mouth, not when they were here.
She could only remember so much.
But his eyes were as dark as they were desperate.
They told stories; his voice was the same that’d ordered her mind as if it weren’t her own. They told of years, decades, centuriesof torment over people like her. They no longer could hide themselves. The truth wanted to come out by itself.
They told of cruelty.
That was enough of a reason.
He mouthed his pleas to her, gasping for breath when she held him by the neck.
The coward was as good as dead, floating into deep space so helplessly. But he looked into hereyes, and his only bore fear. As if the Martian Captain always knew he’d be staring at them when he dies.
Powerful, blinding beams of red light shot out of her eyes the same as the flaring blasts of the star. It burned the Captain’s flesh that withered away into ash, and the force pushed and threw him into the star’s even more scorching flames. Her heat vision did not stop until his body was no longer to be seen, when it was long lost into the star’s burning core, and the last of his life was nothing more than drifting ash.
There was so much hate, her own cruelties. She woke up and already, the blackness in her soul was the first of the slow-moving thoughts; so much fury she couldn’t even remember. Her eyes had grown dark, even against such a blinding sun.
The beams out of her eyes finally came to a slow halt.
Then there was a second of peace.
Peace.
With the stars and clouds, the flares that colored the black plane of unending space and hummed a song. No star, even with such a fiery core, could hold that much quietness. It went against everything in her heart that screamed from behind the metal bars of a cage.
How could she remember what they were, even when she had no memory of seeing one before?
She was drifting, floating. The stars had no end no matter where she faced and turned her head. It was a garden, limitless. Some stretched their arms to reach for their brothers, light rays of all colors. Some were clustered in clouds in the deepest shades of lavender petals. Some had drifted from the crowds like they wanted their light to show for themselves.
They called for her to calm, whispering for her heart to slow and her thoughts to rest from such a race.
Then she was tired.
Even with such strength, she fell limp.
Then her eyes were too heavy.
So she closed them, listened to the star’s humming of the song only they knew the melody of. Sometimes, when they wanted to, she heard a note play out like they sung. Everything was quiet and black. She didn’t feel the pair of arms that took her away.
—–
It didn’t take much to wake him.
Perhaps it had been days of staring at the shadows beneath his eyelids, counting the hours of the overhead bulbs coming to a dim. He didn’t count them literally. He just knew it’d been a while. The voices changed, too. And the feel of hands that often turned his arm around.
It started when the shadows burned red, the way it did when closed eyes looked up at fluorescents. Then came the feeling of his toes and fingers that wriggled and twitched, his lips that chapped, his chest that hurt after every breath.
Finally, when breathing wasn’t too much of a pain, Jason opened his eyes.
On top of his bedside, his Red Hood helmet watched him wake.
The quietness was eerie. Somehow his head made up an ever-playing note from a key he didn’t know where from. The infirmary was a busy room, but that time, no one had anything to speak of. Not even his friend, Roy, asleep on a thin chair just at his cot’s side. When Jason sat up, already, Roy was awake.
“Thank fuck, Todd,” he gasped when the surprise died down. “Thought you were actuallydead this time.”
“My seat in hell’s been long overdue, but I’m not taking it anytime soon.”
“Spare me the death jokes,” Roy gently slapped his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.”
“You’ve been conscious?”
“Barely. But nothing hurts too much anymo-“
He should have figured why the passing wind on his left hand wasn’t as gentle on his right. But it didn’t take until he actually saw his own fingers for it to sink in.
“Yeah, uhm,” Roy gulped, “your hand-“
“I know. I remember.”
It looked impressive.
A cybernetic hand. Skin-like touch feedback. Stainless black steel and rods that folded when he stretched his fingers.
“Looks cool though,” Roy said.
“You’d say that if it weren’t you.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I blew up her arm once before. We’re even now.”
The cycling debt finally stops.
Really. Don’t apologize. He’ll have to deal with a lot of sorry’s and pitiful looks possibly for the rest of his life. But he was more looking forward to the children gawping at how awesome his robot hand was.
Soft, feathery sheets against his fingers were all the same. He ran his new hand over the surface until it warmed.
“Where’s Vic?”
Roy pointed to a few beds behind them. Vic was sitting upright, talking to the Fleet surgeon with a bag held to his head. He smiled and waved at Jason when their eyes met.
“And N/N?”
Roy didn’t look too worried, at least. Better than what was worst. “Can you walk?”
Jason stretched out his toes and followed his friend down the hallways the Fleet already had repaired. “Ora’s leading the Fleet for now,” Roy told him. “We’re safe here.”
“What happened to N/N?”
They had to go to the Station’s lower decks, through many doors before they got to a holding area with a glass window, and behind that window was a prison cell for a very specific prisoner.
A red sun prison; that had to be what glowed from a compacted star they contained just above the glass dome. No one else was inside, and even outside the dome, it was locked.
But they could see what went on inside.
And she was there. N/N. She looked calm, quiet, peaceful. Sitting upright on the floor with her back against the glass. To just run to her, hold her; it would have been too easy.
“They said she gets more violent when she recovers from reprogramming.”
“She’s always violent,” Jason snorted.
“Yeah, this time she almost killed a hundred guards when they tried to contain her. The place is lined with lead, so she can’t even see or hear out of these walls.”
“She’s just confused. And afraid.”
He couldn’t look away. Not from her glowing eyes. This time, full of life, full of feeling, even with it being darkness. But distant.
“She can’t remember a thing…”
When he said that, it only cemented what he wanted so badly to slip from his mind. “She was so afraid this would happen again,” Jason longingly whispered, hoping she was listening.
Roy slapped his shoulder. “Well, you’re in luck. It won’t last. She’ll remember you. She’ll remember everything soon.”
He was about to scowl at his friend’s delusional attempt to comfort him before Roy grabbed him by the shoulders.
“Ora told me to tell you. You know how N/N can record everything she sees?” Roy stuck his finger to Jason’s head. “Turns out that Martian dude was a secret hoarder because he just took out the recorded memories from her head so she could be his puppet, but he never got rid of any of them. It’s all stored in the archives they found days ago. Why else do you think Z’arr knew so much about her that nobody else did?”
The soul in him must have gone for a time, because something filled his body like a cold gust of a storm.
“Don’t play with me, Harper.”
“I’m not.”
They didn’t know. They didn’t know what this meant to her; how this changes everything.
How much her eyes stepped out from the shadows as each day they spent together passed.
Her past. Her identity. What she longed to know.
And to think that could be brought back? After the many dark days he sulked in a scratchy infirmary cot, pretending to be unconscious? Because the thought of N/N forgetting everything was so hard to even think about?
Jason was already reaching for her, and even that he didn’t notice. When his palm cooled against the glass, her voice was all he could hear. ‘I could never forget you.’
She said it so reassuringly, like there had never been anything more of a truth.
Just as Jason couldn’t forget her. Not even after decades worth of his antics.
They didn’t know what he and N/N made, what they went through, and promised to remember; when they were alone, the silences and bickers, the stars that watched them and the journey of a lifetime.
But.
Maybe she can have all that.
Without him.
“What if,” Jason whispered, “what if she doesn’t have to…”
What if she can remember the smiles, but not who was behind it?
There was that rage he recognized from the first time they met, the rage that came with fear. But her heart wasn’t hurt, not like how it was going to be.
‘Don’t forget me.’
‘I wish I could.’
What heartaches was she spared from? How many tubs of tears ceased now that Jason wasn’t so much as a distant memory?
She can remember everything else; the journey, the stars, their discoveries. Just not him.
Ora walked into the waiting cell. In her hands, a holographic clipboard. N/N’s anatomy was on display with letters he couldn’t recognize.
“Roy must have told you the news by now. I think we can transfer her recorded memories by today-“
“Can you leave out a few things?” Jason interjected. “Like choose the memories to give back to her?”
“Of course,” Ora said.
“Don’t let her remember me.”
He might as well have told them he wanted to jump out the window. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Jason turned to Ora. “Leave out as many recordings you have of me. That’s only four months. She wouldn’t miss it.”
“Yes, she will,” Ora exclaimed. “You don’t get to decide what she wants to remember.”
“She won’t want to remember me if she doesn’t even know.”
Roy felt no differently. “You’re being delusional, Todd.”
“I’m not.”
The sight of her alone, unknowing. There was that slight of innocence he didn’t want stripped away.
She was right all those weeks ago. It should have just been one night. It should have been less, much less than that.
“We’re finally going home, Harper,” he held his friend’s arm, “and I’m never gonna see her again.”
Roy’s face fell. He always understood.
“I just don’t want her to get hurt anymore…”
This could be salvation. From him.From how scared she was of getting hurt; how long he had to wait before she finally gave in against what she thought she wanted.
And he knew for a fact that N/N once wished Jason never should have happened.
There will never be a greater length of pain. But at least it would all be on him. This could be his turn to save her.
“Can I talk to her?” Jason said, holding back the flooding throb in his throat. “Just to say goodbye.”
She wasn’t stable. She was a machine being contained before she tears the whole place apart.
But it was an act of pity, a charity case with it a risk of his own life. Ora opened the gates to let him pass. Hesitantly, Jason stepped in with his heart tucked away, frozen stiff when almost immediately, N/N watched him move like a hawk.
He wasn’t anything more to her than a potential threat. He had to be careful.
N/N walked slowly to the glass like a defensive lioness. Even with no weapons, she looked dangerous. Her eyes were darker now that they were hooded, like she wanted the shadows on them. He never realized she did that on purpose to look even more threatening.
Jason hoped the glass between them was thicker than it looked. Through the filtered audio, her voice echoed out a speaker at the side.
“Let me out of here.”
“I’m not one of them,” Jason shakily gulped. “I’m not the staff.”
She eyed his robot hand but didn’t question it. Jason tried to ignore the coldness in her voice that stabbed him wi
Summary: Spin off series to ‘House Always Wins’ - Dick has never had a problem finding someone but he’s never really connected, until he met her soul in the Underworld.
WORDS: 955 WARNINGS: HELL FUCKING YEAH IM WARNING YOU JASON WATCHES YOUR SEX TAPE WHILE YOU DO WHAT YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GONNA DO
You could still taste yourself dripping on his length. Of course you’d know how you tasted. Your cum was almost always all over his cock and mouth. He was awfully hard, and you took the time to admire his wonderfully thick length before you took any action to aid it.
You smiled. The moans coming out of the phone led you to believe he was watching some other regular porn video. It was almost doubtful how it was in fact you he was looking at that was making him so fucking hard. A blush formed on your cheeks and your heart raced at how Jason enjoyed watching you being fucked mindlessly on tape.
He looked away from the screen just to glance at the beauty that kneeled in front of him. You looked so cute, he thought, with those doe eyes admiring his cock and your hand wrapped around it. He bit his lip, thanking how he was this lucky to get to heaven, and returned his attention to the video.
You spat on his cock, letting your drool drip on him to give you some lubrication. He almost came at that and began to grip your hair. You smiled. He always does that when he’s desperate for some kind of relief. The cock in your hand almost twitched when your burning tongue drew a long lick up the underside. You heard him groan, and your moans in the video just got louder and louder.
“Babygirl,” he pleaded, “quit teasing me.”
You only smiled playfully, looking up at him as your hand pumped his cock. Your body repositioned so your ass would be in his full view, and goddamn was he in a better place than heaven as of now. He gripped your hair tighter, not leaving his eyes from the screen as he guided your head to his cock.
He felt your lips kiss the tip, giving him that short flush of relief which was immedietely replaced by even more desperation. He almost couldn’t take it anymore.
Finally, your mouth sank down on his cock so swiftly it was amazing how you got used to a length like that. “Ohhhh…” Jason groaned, and at this point, his hand took total control of your head. When you started to pull back, his force on you was far too strong, and you were left with his cock in your mouth pushing yourself further and further down until you could feel the long drag down your throat. You gagged, over and over until his lap was almost dripping with your drool.
He pulled back violently, giving you a split second to breathe before pulling you back in an instant. He didn’t even look at you. His eyes were still glued to the phone.
“Ohhhh! Fuck me Jason!” you heard yourself scream. You didn’t have time to be embarrassed of your cries when his cock was pushing even further down your throat, making your eyes water and your mouth hurt from the stretch. Everything was making your pussy dripping wet, as if it wasn’t just fucked violently a few minutes before.
It was as if he was masturbating to porn, except you were the porn star and your mouth was used to pleasure himself. He started pulling you back, then pushing you further again and again, faster at every thrust of his cock down your throat. You moaned into his cock, the vibrations sending him chills down his spine. You gagged on his cock a few times, letting him pull your head back and forth to his liking as he continued with the video. You snuck a finger down your folds, feeling how wet you are.
Fuck, you were dripping. After touching yourself you couldn’t help anymore but slide two fingers in your throbbing pussy, looking up at him with your mouth full with his cock. You were wet everywhere. Your pussy, the floor, his cock, his lap, the bed, everywhere just seemed to be filled with your juices. You were gonna have a hard time cleaning it all up after this.
Tears just kept flowing down your cheeks. The pain in your throat only made you more turned on, and everytime you gagged, it sounded like music to Jason’s ears. You noticed his Red Hood helmet sitting at a console table across the bed, as if it were looking at you and its owner sinning.
You couldn’t help it anymore. His cock was so full in your mouth. He groaned louder when your tongue swirled where it could and you sucked so hard he was about to pass out. It felt too fucking good.
Finally, he spilled his hot load in your mouth, making sure you tasted all of it. His orgasm was almost too good to be real, and the video ended just as he finished inside you. A lot came out of him, proving to both you and him that you were the best girlfriend the world could ever give him.
He crashed on the bed, taking deep, heavy breaths as he processed what had just happened. You couldn’t help but laugh. No matter how rough he can get in bed, he’s still your adorable little cutie you loved so much. You took a towel and wiped yourself, the floor, his lap, everywhere that had any trace of you two having sex. You joined him in bed, pulled him up so he can lay comfortably on your chest, and placed a kiss on his forehead. He fell asleep almost immediately with you playing with his hair, humming his favorite song until you fell asleep as well.
WORDS: 892 WARNINGS: YOU AND JASON MAKE A SEX TAPE YA’LL IF YOU THINK THAT AINT ENOUGH OF A WARNING IM NOT RESPONSIBLE OF ANY WRECKED PANTIES
“Tell me what you want.”
You felt your skin almost scrape off of your flesh caused by the carpet against your knees. Your breaths turned short but heavy as your current state made your heart race out of your chest, your hands seeking sanctuary, or just anything you can grab on, when all you can do writhe and tremble on all fours. Your back was arched as much as it could, though you couldn’t really do much but feel the long, hard drag of Jason’s cock inside your clenching walls. Your eyes almost rolled to the back of your head, feeling the intense, never-ending tremors that got you hooked on like nicotine. His large hands grabbed you by your waist, arching you even more to further push your ass up.
You felt a sharp sting when Jason’s hand slapped your ass so hard and good that you almost came right at that moment. “I said,” he leaned down and whispered into your ear, “What do you want me to do, babygirl?”
His hot breath almost burn against your skin, contrasting to the cool sweat that dripped down to your neck. “I want you to make me come!”
You felt another sharp sting on your ass, “Then look at the camera, beautiful.”
At that, he raised your head up by grabbing a fistful of your hair so you’d look at his phone positioned right in front of you. It was your idea, actually. And fuck, did you not regret it.
The camera on his phone felt like a sharp eye watching, like Jason was inside the device itself and was watching you through the lenses. And as if the feeling that shot up throughout your body when he’s fucking your throbbing pussy didn’t already feel good, the fact that you were being recorded made it so much hotter, You couldn’t help but feel sexy, almost as much as he says you are.
“You look so hot. Just look at the camera, babygirl.”
He gripped your hair tighter, letting you feel the sting in your head that added up to all your bodily pleasures. You started moaning like a porn star and could feel his cock throb and getting harder and harder at every thrust. You clenched around him so good that he let go of your hair and moaned out so sexily that you recorded it in your own head to help you when you needed something to get off to. His cock was so hard and thick that you briefly wondered how much your thighs are gonna ache after this.
Then he shifted your hips, and that’s when you were an inch close to a powerful, explosive orgasm that will surely rip you to pieces. The tip of his cock repeatedly hit that spot inside you. “Jason!” you screamed.
He had no mercy. He gripped your hips even harder, fucking your numb opening so hard, your moans could be heard from the next block. He slapped you one more time, and that’s when your body gave out, giving you one of the most intense, spine-tingling orgasms you’ve had in your life. All that, and you just happened to be capable enough to look at the camera the whole time, and Jason just couldn’t wait to get his hands on that footage.
You collapsed on the ground, feeling that shocks and aftershocks that made you high. You couldn’t move for a few good minutes, laying on the carpet with your ass up and exposed. You were so weak, so wonderfully fucked that you needed time to process just how good it was.
Jason came back with a towel and wiped your thighs off from your cum (you just happened to squirt a whole lot) and off the carpet. You still didn’t have the energy to move, so close to passing out before you felt Jason’s hot lips on your neck, then down your back. He traced your spine with his tongue before moving back up to your ear.
“You did so well, baby,” he smiled, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. You smiled and hummed to his soft caress, embracing you from behind.
He stood up and you gathered the strength to get up from the ground. He took the phone from the chair it sat on and stopped the recording. That’s when you noticed he still had an awfully hard cock. He still hadn’t come.
He sat on the edge of the bed, looking at you playfully before he pressed on his phone and you heard yourself, gasping and crying louder than you thought you did. A blush suddenly crept up your cheeks, until you noticed Jason get even harder than before. His cock was throbbing, and the sight just made your mouth water.
You crawled in front of him and looked into his eyes. The video kept playing, and your moans only seemed to get louder. He didn’t dare take his eyes off the screen even when your hand was wrapped around him, rubbing smoothly at first so he wouldn’t come immediately.
He let out a groan, and you felt his hand grip your hair once again. He guided your head to his cock, and you couldn’t help but smile as you kissed the tip.
Y/n and Jason were sitting on the couch in the living room, Jason was sitting on one of his legs while he was facing his girlfriend hugging her and giving kisses on her cheek and neck.
Suddenly Y/n realized that Rachel and Gar had entered the living room.
“Hey guys!” Rachel approached the couple and Gar followed her smiling at Y/n.
“Go away! There are lots of other places in this house to you makeout.”
Y/n blushed as Jason tried to kiss her.
“Jason! Don’t be rude, how are you guys?”
“Thanks Y/n! We’re fine but seriously I keep asking myself, how can you date someone like Jason if you are the sweetest person I’ve ever met?” Rachel asked.
Y / n laughed and looked at Jason.
“He’s not bad as you say, maybe you don’t know him well enough, right Jay?”
Jason grinned looking at her and gave Y/n a quick kiss.
“She loves me if you haven’t noticed yet.”
“Oh my God Gar let’s get out of here before I throw up. ”
Summary: all of the batboys are dusted with Poison Ivy’s sex toxin and think they’ve taken an antidote. It didn’t quite work. This is the story about what happens to Jason.
Warning: smut. It’s on sex pollen so there is a dub con warning despite the fact that they are willing participants.
