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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 5 days ago

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I Know You Want Me On Your Team (jason todd x reader x roy harper smut)

Roy asks you if you want to fuck Jason, since apparently Jason wants to fuck the two of you. As it happens, Roy is a fucking genius.

—

There’s a lot of love for “Roy and Jason share reader” and obviously that’s king shit, but, hear me out—Roy and reader share Jason.

You and Roy set your sights on Jason. You are conspiring. You are relentless. You are fucking nasty. Jason never stood a chance (not that he wanted to.)

So, here we are. Pwp, except the plot is just you and Roy figuring out how to put Jason in your bed. Smut, vouyerism. Established relationship (Roy x reader). Swearing, as always

I don’t know how long this is

———

“Hey, sweet cheeks, I want to talk about something.” Roy’s words drift lazily over to you.

“Oh, no,” you snort. “This should be good.”

“Fuck off,” Roy kicks at you lightly, rumpling the bedsheets. The two of you made the most of an empty afternoon by fucking like rabbits and haven’t bothered to get up since then, lying bare ass naked on the bed and watching the sun dip lower and lower outside the window.

“Okay, lay it on me.” You groan, anticipating Roy’s joke. “Actually—”

“Not the only thing I’ll lay on you,” he waggles his eyebrows and rolls his body on top of yours.

“Get off,” you push him away. “I told you, I’ve got no more fucking in me. And you have sticky come on you.”

“So do you,” Roy counters.

“But not as much,” you reason.

“Next time I’ll finish on your tits, then,” Roy nods to himself, then grins at you. “Get you nice and filthy.”

You jab him with your foot. “Can you fucking focus, please? What did you want to say?”

“What? Oh, right.” He shakes his head, then looks at you seriously. “I think Jason wants to fuck us.”

His words clock you in the jaw. “What?”

“I think Jason wants to fuck us,” Roy repeats himself earnestly.

You stare at him. Roy meets your gaze and raises his eyebrows.

He’s given you whiplash. Whatever you thought he was going to say, it definitely wasn’t this.

“Well…” you try to collect yourself. “Well, okay, Jason definitely wants to fuck you.”

This is true, Jason 100% wants to fuck your boyfriend. Poor man has it down bad for his best friend. You’ve seen when the three of you hang out at Roy’s apartment or at a bar over drinks. Jason’s eyes follow Roy wherever he goes, always flicking down to his ass. He positions himself near Roy and leans in close, much closer than he has to, whenever Roy is talking. And sometimes he gets this stupid look on his face whenever he’s listening to Roy ramble about Lian. Same look you wear; it’s like looking in a mirror.

Maybe the crush should bother you, but it doesn’t. You don’t know a ton about Jason, Roy’s been pretty tight-lipped, but you know he’s been through a lot of rough shit. What’s the harm in a passing crush? Lord knows you’ve had plenty. And besides, you trust Roy. If anything changed in their relationship, if he wanted things to go a different way, he’d tell you.

But maybe he’s telling you now. “Yeah, he’s into me, but he’s also definitely got the hots for you,” Roy insists as you roll your eyes. “I’m serious. You don’t see it, but he can’t keep his eyes off you. And he asks about you a lot.”

“Maybe he’s just asking about his friend’s girlfriend,” you argue, reluctant to believe him.

“Nah,” Roy says definitively. “Trust me. This is not normal Jason behavior. He’s into you.”

You give him a look. “And that doesn’t bother you.”

“Well, I mean,” Roy shrugs. “It’d bother me if I didn’t kinda want to fuck him too. That’s why I’m bringing it up.”

“Huh.”

“But I’m only gonna fuck him if you want to fuck him,” Roy clarifies. “If it’s, like,” he gestures between you. “A group activity.”

You can’t help it, you laugh out loud. “Wow, you’re such a team player.”

“What can I say,” Roy says with a smirk, “everyone wants me on their team.”

“Ugh.” You punch him in the arm. “Jason certainly does.”

“He wants to be on your team, too,” Roy reminds you. “So, do you?”

“Do I what?”

“Wanna fuck him?”

You pause, considering. You’re open to a third, but maybe not Roy’s best friend who’s half in love with him. But Roy says Jason likes you, too…

“You don’t have to decide right now,” Roy says reassuringly.

“You want to fuck him?” you clarify.

“Well, yeah,” Roy answers simply. “He’s hot. And so are you, you’re fucking gorgeous. I want to watch you two make out.”

Well, shit. You hadn’t considered that. Jason is stupid hot. Tall and broad with enough beefy muscle for two people. And his face is so pretty. Do you want to watch him fuck Roy up close?

Uh, yeah. That’s the kind of shit you subscribe to porn sites for.

“Just think about it, yeah?” Roy says, but he’s grinning like he already knows your answer. He rolls out of bed, looking for his pants. “Like I said, don’t gotta do anything right now.”

“Yeah, okay,” you say, still considering. “Where’re you going?”

“Gonna go get Lian from her mom’s.” He pulls on his pants, then looks over his shoulder. “See you Saturday?”

“Saturday,” you nod, then wave after he pulls on the rest of his clothes and leaves your apartment.

•••

After thinking about it for six more seconds you realize that Roy is, in fact, a genius, and of course you want to fuck Jason. When Saturday rolls around and you’re going out for pizza, you quickly bring up the topic.

“Okay, so, hypothetically, if we were going to invite Jason into our bed, how would we do it?”

Roy smiles around a slice of pizza. “Knew you’d come around.”

“Well.” You throw up a hand, let it smack against the table. “He’s hot.”

“Damn right. But he’s also,” Roy gestures to his head, then his chest. “You know.”

“Tricky,” you nod. “Exactly. So how do we do this?”

You two stare blankly at each other across the table.

“Come on, Roy,” you groan after a few seconds. “You can’t say some shit like that and not have a plan.”

“Hey, you’re the babe in this relationship, you figure out the emotional crap,” he argues.

“That is so fucking stupid. He’s your best friend,” you remind him.

“Yeah, but I don’t know how to date him. I’ve never dated any of my friends,” he points out. “Don’t waste time with friendship, go straight to fuckin’.”

“That won’t help you now,” you tell him. “Come on, asshole, think.”

He looks at you for a second, then shrugs, taking another bite of his pizza.

“Oh my god,” you mutter. “You’re useless. What’s his dating history?” You pick up your own slice.

Roy whistles through his teeth. “Can’t just tell you his secrets, babydoll, c’mon.”

“Yeah, fair.” You consider this as you take a bite of your pizza. “Okay, well, I’m just going to take some guesses,” you say, talking around the food in your mouth. “One, he hasn’t had a lot of experience.”

Roy shrugs, but his eyes are glinting. You nod to yourself. This one’s obvious, Roy told you that Jason was basically out for the count during ages 15-19. You always assumed he was in a coma or something. No chance to get his dick wet, and probably hard to jump right into the dating game after all that hell.

You purse your lips. “Poor bastard, whatever happened to him.” You shake your head. “Wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Roy’s face grows hard and cold. “You can’t even fucking imagine.”

Your eyes widen, a little taken aback by Roy’s sudden intensity. He stares over your shoulder, eyes furious. Eventually, he shakes his head with a sigh. “Shouldn’t’ve even happened to him. Sick fucks couldn’t protect him when he needed it.” His eyes return to yours, warming slightly. “Makes our job harder.”

Cautiously, you make another guess at Jason’s past. “Right. So…he’s only been with one or two people?”

Roy blinks.

“Guys?”

Roy chews his lip, then nods slightly.

“Any girls?”

He waits a moment, then minutely shakes his head.

You sigh. “Well, shit, Roy, how do you even know if he likes girls? I still think he’s only interested in you.”

“Babe, I fucking swear, he is so into you.” Roy exhales loudly, shaking his head. “If he wasn’t so pretty I’d have to punch his lights out for it.”

“How do you know?” you demand.

“I think he jacks off to you,” Roy says, so matter of fact that you almost choke on your food.

“How the fuck could you possibly know that?”

“Sometimes he looks real guilty when he sees you,” Roy explains. “And then he looks at me like he’s gotten caught, like he’s in trouble. Yeah, he’s definitely fisted his cock to you.” Roy grins at you across the table. “Can’t say I blame him.”

Damn if that isn’t an ego boost. You perk up in your seat. “Maybe I could seduce him,” you offer.

You don’t even finish your sentence before Roy shakes his head. “Naw, bad idea. He’d just run away.”

You deflate, affronted. “Worked on you,” you point out, mumbling.

“Well, yeah. You shoved those pretty tits in my face. Had to have ‘em in my mouth.” He grins at the memory, and you beam at him across the table.

“Can’t seduce him,” Roy brings you back to the problem. “Gotta try something else.”

“Right.” You stare at him, unsure.

Eventually, Roy sighs. “I think we just gotta lay it out for him. That we were thinking about it and we want to…”

“Fuck?” you offer.

Roy frowns. “Not like that. Don’t wanna scare him. That we wanna…try, with him. If he’s interested.”

You nod. “And he can say no.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Roy agrees. “And we’ll care about him either way.”

“That’s more for you,” you point out. “I mean, obviously it’s true for me, but I think it’s more important if you say it about yourself.”

“You’re right. That it won’t affect our friendship.” Roy considers for a moment, then grins. “Damn. We are so fucking smart.”

“Hell yeah. We should get beer.”

He points a finger at you. “Babe, you’re a genius.” He gets up from the table as you giggle at him

•••

Even once you figure out how to ask Jason, your planning isn’t over. How should you bring it up to him? When, where? You and Roy work tirelessly at these questions.

Not at a bar, Roy rules that one out. Not your apartment, either, you don’t want Jason to feel caged in. Roy’s place. But when? After a mission or patrol? Nah, when you’re all just hanging out. Should you feed Jason first, wine and dine him? Break out some scotch or something?

Okay, yeah, that sounds good, you decide. It’ll be almost like a date, but at Roy’s place. And Jason won’t know. A surprise date. You’ll shower and look real cute, and Roy will be…clean, at least. And you’ll cook something really good, and Roy will buy scotch. Perfect.

You and Roy decide this’ll happen in two weeks, after he and Jason have gone on a short, three-day mission. That’ll give you enough time to plan out exactly what you want to say. And clean Roy’s apartment.

You’ve got two weeks to prepare. You’ll pull out all the stops for Jason. It’ll be perfect.

Except this plan falls to shit, because two days after you and Roy decide to take Jason on a non-date, Jason smells you out.

“Okay, what the hell is going on?” He wrinkles his nose, staring at the two of you accusingly. “You’re acting weird.”

Shit. You and Roy stare worriedly at each other, scrambling. The three of you are at Roy’s apartment; Roy had invited Jason over and you were getting ready tohead out.

Jason cocks an eyebrow and folds his arms over his chest, leaning back against the kitchen counter. “Spit it out,” he commands.

Holy shit, he really is hot, with his biceps bulging under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He whistles to get your attention, and you whip your head to look at Roy, who’s also been staring.

“Uhh…” you stare at Roy pleadingly. It’s not time yet! You’re not ready!

Roy shrugs. He’s right. Jason’s forced your hand.

“Look, man, we were thinking,” Roy starts. “We both really like you, and we both think you’re really…well, really fucking hot.”

Here Jason sucks in a sharp breath, cheeks blushing. You stare at him openly, it’s so fucking cute you can’t look away.

“We do,” Roy presses on, “you are. And if you wanted to try and have fun with us, or something like that, we’d definitely be into that.”

He leaves that on the floor, and looks to you for confirmation. You nod encouragingly, he did great.

You both turn back to Jason. He’s still bright red, staring harshly at the floor.

“But only if you want to!” you blurt out, trying to reassure him. “Of course it’s only if you’re game. And if not, that’s totally cool too.”

“Yeah, man,” Roy adds. “This doesn’t have to change anything, we’re just puttin’ it out there. If not, no worries.” He shrugs. “I still care about you, I’m still gonna care about you, no matter what.”

“Me too,” you say, just to drive the point home. “Of course we’ll still care about you.”

Jason says nothing, gaze stuck to the kitchen floor.

“Obviously, you don’t have to answer right—”

“You want to have sex with me.”

Jason’s words cut across yours. He’s picked his head up, narrowed eyes searching your face.

“Um. Yes?”

“You want to have sex with me.”

You glance at Roy. “Yeah. Of course I do.”

“Really,” Jason says flatly.

“Jay,” Roy begins, but Jason cuts him off with a scoff.

“Hold on.” You put up a hand to placate Roy. Jason’s insecurity isn’t surprising, after all. “Yes, Jason,” you say again, looking him square in the face. “You’re really, really attractive. And I care about you. Of course, I want to have sex with you.”

He doesn’t look convinced, so you try a different tack. “I’ve uh, I’ve thought about it.” You smile sheepishly. “I don’t have to give you the details, but yeah. Definitely thought about it. Definitely want to do it in real life.”

He holds your gaze. “Can you give me the details?”

You gasp, unprepared for Jason to be brazen. But sure, you can tell him about fucking yourself to completion at the thought of him.

Your smile changes to something cautiously alluring. “I think of you when I touch myself,” you say softly. “When I’m alone and wet and rubbing a finger against my clit.” Across the room, Roy heaves out a sharp breath, but you only have eyes for Jason. His jaw sets, but his eyes haven’t left yours. “I think about you when I’ve got a hand in my panties and I want to make myself come. When I’m playing with myself. Sometimes I come with my fingers in my cunt, wishing they were yours.”

Finally, Jason’s expression changes: for half a second, he shudders in shocked disbelief, then nods. He turns to Roy, your eyes follow. Roy’s glancing between the two of you, a slack-jawed expression on his face. You pointedly look down to see he’s half hard in his jeans.

Glancing at Jason, you take a risk. “Sorry, Jay,” you murmur, beckoning Roy closer. “I gotta take care of my baby for a sec.” Roy comes willingly, and you pull him in for a kiss, one hand dropping to squeeze his ass and encourage him to grind against you. The kiss is intense, you can feel his heart pound in his lips, knowing Jason’s watching. Roy moans loudly into your mouth, and you laugh quietly. “So easy to get you excited, hmm?” you tease softly.

“Shut up,” Roy grumbles, sucking on your tongue.

Suddenly, Jason clears his throat. Both you and Roy whip your heads towards him with a crack. “Can I watch?” Jason asks stubbornly, like he’s pushing himself forward.

You and Roy turn back to each other for a split second. Then, simultaneously—

“Yup.”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea.”

Jason nods, then waits for you make the next move. You turn to Roy.

“C’mon, baby, park that ass on the couch,” Roy says easily. “I want to eat that pretty pussy.”

“M’kay.” You turn and practically flounce over, making sure to sway your ass with every step. You glance over your shoulder: Jason’s staring at it, then boldly flicks his eyes up to yours. You shiver.

“Jay, you comin’?” Roy asks, following you. With a grunt, Jason comes over as well.

By the time both men make it into the living room you’ve taken off your shirt and shorts, settling yourself against the couch with your back to the armrest. Roy groans when he sees you, laying between your legs and kissing his way down your chest. You glance at Jason. With an unreadable expression on his face he pauses, then sits carefully in the armchair across from the couch.

Your skin crackles. Feeling Roy’s lips on your stomach and Jason’s eyes on you, knowing he’s right over there, watching, watching, is making your head spin. Roy bites you, right at the edge of your panties, and you shriek, hands flying to his hair. Roy laughs, laving his tongue over the mark. “Always so sensitive.”

“Shut up, Harper—ah!” Roy’s canine scrapes at your clit through your underwear. He can always find it, like an arrow to the target. You pant heavily, eagerly turning your head towards Jason. He’s watching you through narrowed eyes, like he’s trying to figure you out. His intense gaze has you squirming delightedly. It makes you want to put on a show.

“So mean, Roy, going at me with your teeth,” you chastise, jerking him up by his hair. He gasps, then smirks: he sees clean through you like glass. He knows what you’re up to.

“M’sorry, baby.” He leans into your hand, turning to pull one of your fingers into his mouth. You sigh happily as he sucks earnestly, circling the pad of your finger with his tongue.

“Gotta be on your best behavior, we’ve got a guest, sweetheart.” You hear Jason pull in a sharp breath.

“Mm.” Roy grins at you evilly, then bites down on your finger.

“Ah-ah! Roy, ouch!” You pull your finger out of his mouth, but he’s already throwing his head down and wrapping his lips around your clit. “Roy,” you say again breathily. He hums, sucking on you deliciously through the underwear. “Oh, fuck, baby, just like that,” you moan.

“Yeah? Already so wet, can taste it through your panties.” He sighs as you grind against his face, hooking a leg over his shoulder. “Fucking yourself on my face already? That’s okay, babydoll, take what you need.”

You moan, hips jerking up from the couch. Roy teases you with his tongue, flicking lightly against your clit, drawing circles around it, tracing the outline of your folds. “Fuck Roy, feels so good.”

“I take good care of my girl, huh?” One of his hands comes up to cup your breast, pinching and massaging your nipple.

Your back arches into his touch. “Fuck, yes. Always make my pussy feel so good.” You look at Jason again, his eyes are just a little bit wide, his mouth slightly open. His hands are white-knuckling the arms of the chair, and you clock an almost imperceptible bulge in his pants. Fuck yes. He’s fucking into it, he’s getting off on you and Roy.

The thought alone makes you pull Roy’s hair and buck against his face just to hear him moan into your pussy. Jason catches you staring, closing his mouth and sizing you up. You meet his gaze, even though it has you writhing on the couch. “Always take such good care of me, Roy, always make me feel so fucking good.”

You see Jason take you in, hips moving against Roy’s face, breasts jumping as Roy kneads and plays with them. He lets out a quiet curse, and you smile cockily.

“Wanna take these off?” Roy interrupts you, snapping the band of your underwear against you.

“Fuck yes.” You obligingly lift your hips as Roy slides off your panties. You can’t help it, you wriggle your hips just so Jason can see your ass shake.

“Mmm, there she is.” Roy holds your thighs open with both hands. “Look at this pretty pussy, hm? All wet and fucked out already.” He glances over to Jason, then stares. You follow his gaze.

Shit. Jason is fully hard now, one of his hands smoothing over his cock, trapped as it is in his jeans. God, he looks so big, you’re practically salivating.

He realizes you’re both staring at him and blushes, then lifts his chin defensively. “Do you wanna touch yourself, Jay?” you ask softly. Roy pinches the skin of your hips in silent encouragement. “You can if you want to.”

Jason considers this for a moment, then palms himself fully, rolling his hips into his hand and stifling a small moan. That alone is enough to send heat straight to your core and make Roy rut into the leather of the couch.

But you want more. “Can you take yourself out for us, baby?” you ask gently. “We want to see you.”

Again, Jason hesitates, hand shaking against his crotch. He looks at you, and then at Roy. You realize Roy is looking at him hungrily, you probably are, too. Then Jason unbuttons his jeans, pulls down the zipper, and pulls his cock out of his pants.

Holy fuck. Next to you, Roy’s mouth drops open. Jason is big, thick and pretty, with precum dripping from the tip. You want to take him in your mouth, want to blow him until he comes down your throat.

You and Roy sit motionless, drooling at the sight in front of you. Eventually, Jason smirks, dropping a hand to pump lazily at his cock. “Thought I was the one watching,” he says, eyes glinting as he drags his hand up and down his shaft. “You just gonna sit there?”

Holy shit. You and Roy stare at each other, dumbfounded. You don’t know where Jason’s confidence came from, but it’s hot as fuck.

Eager to please Jason, you grab Roy by the neck and pull him down to your pussy. He dives back in, sloppily making out with your folds before suckling on your clit. Your moan is loud enough to echo through the apartment. From across the room, you can hear the slick sounds of Jason stroking himself. The leather of the couch creaks as Roy rolls his hips into the cushion, seeking friction of his own as he slides his tongue between your folds before going back to your clit.

It’s driving you insane. “If you keep this up, I’m gonna come,” you say brokenly, not sure who you’re talking to.

Jason swears as Roy eggs you on. “Yeah, baby, come on my face, wanna taste it,” he says, messily working at your clit to send you over the edge.

It doesn’t take long. Fire burns at your navel, and with the sound of Jason fucking his fist in your ear and Roy’s tongue up your cunt, you come in a whirlwind. Roy’s tongue fucks you the whole time, until the overstimulation hits and you’re pushing him away with a cry.

Panting, you stroke Roy’s hair. “Thank you, baby, that was so fucking good,” you say, and Roy kisses your thigh at the praise. You turn to Jason: he’s hunched over in the chair, fucking himself with deliberate, almost restrained strokes. Your pulse starts to quicken again. You want to make it good for him, you want to give him something he’ll remember for the rest of his life, even if he doesn’t want to join you in bed.

Quickly, you drag Roy up your body by the shoulders. Kissing him sloppily, you fumble with his sweatpants, yanking them down and getting a hand around his cock. “This okay?” you mumble against his lips.

“Fuck, yes,” he hisses, and you grin, playing with his balls and jerking him off where Jason can see.

Roy knows what you’re doing and he plays along, gasping and bucking dramatically into your hand. Though judging from the way he sinks his teeth into your neck, it’s not all for show. “Jesus, baby,” he moans, “feels so fucking good.”

Jason’s hand is getting fast and messy around his cock, the sounds louder and sloppier as he picks up the pace. “You hear that, baby?” you murmur to Roy under your breath. “You hear how he’s fucking himself to us?” Roy groans, nodding. “It’s cause of you baby,” you whisper, “it’s because of how hot you look right now, fucking my hand.”

Roy hisses, hips snapping into your fist. “You gonna come?” you ask, louder.

“Ye—yeah, baby, I’m gonna fucking come,” Roy grits between his teeth.

“Give it to me,” you coax, and he does, spurting over your hand and wrist. You stroke him until he hisses, then move your hand to rub at his thigh affectionately. He grins briefly at you. As one, you turn to look at Jason.

He looks almost wrecked, biting his lip as if to clamp down on a moan and brutally fucking himself into his hand. It is so beautiful and sexy that you wish you could take a picture.

For the first time, Roy speaks to Jason directly. “God, Jay.” His voice is broken and breathless. “You—I can’t even tell you how gorgeous you look right now.”

Jason whimpers, face crumbling, and you watch, mesmerized by the effect Roy has on him.

“So fucking beautiful, so fucking hot,” Roy continues, and Jason’s strokes become more frenzied, hips bucking wildly.

“You gonna come?” Roy asks gently. “Come for us, baby, please.”

Jason groans, coming almost as soon as Roy asked. You pinch Roy at the sight: Jason panting, cheeks pink, trying to block the spend that seems to be coming in ropes and ropes. He sees you and Roy staring and blushes harder, avoiding your eyes. Jason is absolutely delicious, and you want to put him in your bed and keep him there.

You and Roy sit, motionless, until Jason clears his throat. “So, uh.” He looks at the come, then pulls off his shirt to mop it up, leaving himself in a white undershirt.

This jolts you and Roy. “So what do you, uh,” you start. “Do you want to—”

“Don’t know.” Jason rises to his feet.

This doesn’t faze Roy, but you become a bit frantic. “Okay, uh,” you jump up from the couch. “Do you want me to wash—”

“Nah.” Jason shoves the shirt in his pocket, heading for the door.

“Oh—okay. Uh—”

“See you later.” Jason pulls the door open.

“Bye, Jay,” Roy calls as the door slams shut.

You’re left staring. “Roy, what the fuck was that?”

“Don’t worry,” Roy says, pulling you back down to his chest. “That’s just Jason.”

“Fine.” You pout for a moment, then grin. “So, that was insane.”

“Uh, yeah,” Roy smirks. “Told you.”

“When you’re right, you’re right,” you agree, too fucked out to fight it. “Think it worked?”

“Mmm, not sure.” Roy shrugs. “Have to wait and see.”

“Okay.” You settle against his chest.

You two are quiet for a few minutes, before you pinch his nipple.

“Fucking hell, what?” He glares at you.

“That bit, where he was like, ‘you guys just gonna sit there?’” you say, eyes wide.

Roy groans. “Fuck, I know.”

“Roy, is he a dom?” Roy stares open-mouthed at you, then slowly grins. “Roy, did you bag us a fucking dom?” you press, voice jittery with excitement.

“I don’t know,” he repeats, but his eyes are star struck. “Have to wait and see.”

———

Have to wait and see!!! You and Roy are bimbo and himbo, you just don’t know it yet.

There will be a second part I’ve decided! And maybe a third, but don’t hold me to it.

If you have any thoughts on this lmk! I have a lot of thoughts on how this threesome would shake out.

Anyway ! That was fun !

#teeth writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd x roy harper x reader #roy harper x reader #roy harper smut #jason todd smut #jason todd x fem!reader #roy harper x fem!reader #red hood x reader #red hood smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #dc imagines

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 9 days ago

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come to this timeloop often, handsome?

#i am going to die actually

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 10 days ago

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Happy trans visibility day 🗣️🗣️

#trans jason todd

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 11 days ago

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#jason todd coded

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 13 days ago

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 15 days ago

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didn’t realize this was the liberal arts, part 5 (Jason todd x reader)

We’re back, folks. It’s time for another chapter of the college au, except it’s not really a college au anymore

Read the rest of the series here

Lotta books mentioned in this one, but the most important one is Joan Didion’s the year of magical thinking. Here Didion writes about mourning her husband’s sudden death. That’s the only one that’s really essential to the plot.

If anyone wants explanation of the other books lmk!!

I think I’ve got another four parts of this in the works, as of now she’s a 9 part series

Swearing, as always. Fluff, then angst because it’s Jason and he can never get what he wants.

Gender neutral reader except Jason calls them princess. If anyone has a slightly belittling gn pet name please lmk, but for now princess is all I’ve got.

No use of y/n. I don’t know how long this is

————

It’s been a week and a half since you and Jason started meeting up every night for a stakeout, and Jason needs to get a goddamned grip. He is acting ridiculous and he needs to knock it the fuck off.

His blundering attempts at being social have always been as subtle as a kick to the jaw. Of course it’s obvious when he starts putting his own psychotic, ineffective, stupid moves on you.

Which is just what he’s doing. Drawing out these stakeouts like he’s mining for time, bringing you coffee after he realizes you tend to nod off after an hour and a half, double texting you to make sure he can pick you up at your usual time and place. Grabbing at every part of you he can reach with his greedy little fingers. Clumsily trying to convince you that he’s worth your attention, trying to get you to like him.

What is he, twelve? It’s pathetic. But maybe that’s how low Jason’s sunk, so starved that he’ll clutch at anyone who looks at him, even if it’s with a sneer on their face. What does it say about him, that he’s chasing you even though you’d treated him like dirt under your boot?

The one, minuscule, part of his brain that isn’t devoted to self-loathing raises a quiet alarm. He’d had to go after you, he reminds himself. You were in way over your head when you’d broken into that apartment looking for info on Black Mask. If Jason hadn’t been there you would’ve been shot. Shot. Maybe killed.

The memory rings clear in his skull, impossible to ignore. You couldn’t carry out your plan to scope out Black Mask’s drug ring alone. He had followed you to protect you, not because he was acting like a stupid dope.

Doesn’t change the fact that he’s acting like a stupid dope now, hoarding all the time he has with you. Like he said, pathetic.

Also, pointless. What’s he gonna do, kiss you through the helmet?

Heh.

He’s completely given up on trying to convince himself he doesn’t want to kiss you. That’s dead in the water. Best he can do is try and fail not to fantasize about it.

Because it’s pointless. Red Hood, the one with the guns, went and got stupid over a civilian. Everyone knows where that story ends: right where it starts. There’s no nothing between you two, there can’t be any. Jason knows the deal.

…he does fantasize about it, though. Kissing you.

He can’t help it; he’s got too much damn time on his hands. He fantasizes about kissing you, but…

But. It’s weird. Kissing you, a little. But mostly, touching you. But, but not like that. Sort of. Ugh. More like…

Jason wonders what it would feel like to lightly trace his fingernails across the bit of spine that peeks out of your shirt collar. To gently press against each vertebrae until they meet your brain stem at the base of your skull. To run a knuckle and then his nose along the inside of your jaw. To hold the meat of his palm up to your eye so he can feel your lashes scrape against him as you blink.

What would the tips of your hair feel like, tapped lightly against his fingers? What about the gummy skin behind your knees? What about the hard crack of your elbow? Jason wants to know it all.

He daydreams about getting his hands all over you and cutting himself on your sharp edges. He wants to have someone he can treat so gently and sweetly that they can’t help but love him for it. And he’d like it to be you.

Jason laughs at himself in disgust. Is he even capable of touching you without snapping you in half? He doubts it.

So, pointless. Any kind of anything with you is almost 100% impossible.

…almost.

The tricky part is that you also know him as Jason. For half a second, Jason had imagined trying to make you care about Jason Todd, the guy in your lit class. He could stop being an asshole, he’s already cut down on deliberately provoking you. Maybe he could throw in a genuine smile here or there. Actually support your points instead of arguing them to a fault. Try and coax you toward the relationship he thinks you might have when you share a stakeout.

He quickly decides against it. You’d only opened up to him when you spent hours together scoping out perps’ apartments. When he was Red Hood, not Jason. It feels like deceiving—it would be deceiving, to try and use what you’d told Red Hood to get you to like Jason. You hate Jason. In fact, when Jason had tried to get to know you, you’d all but thrown a coffee in his face.

No, he can’t chase after you as Jason. Hasn’t he lied to you enough?

He’s stuck. Stupid feelings blooming behind his eyes and he can’t do shit about them. Jason tries to remind himself of how much of an asshole you were in the beginning, how you tried to make him feel like garbage. Does he really want to catch feelings for someone like that? Are you even worth wanting so much?

As soon as his thoughts get that far, his gut yanks him backwards with a jolt. Of course you are. Yeah, you were an asshole in the beginning, but not anymore. Now you laugh at his jokes and give clever ones right back, and ask him questions about himself, and—and look excited to see him when he picks you up at night.

Jason knows himself. That’s all it takes.

Stuck stuck stuck. Stuck getting jittery before the stakeouts and overanalyzing you to see if you could possibly like him as much as he likes you, as if it matters. Stuck stretching out the nights as far as they’ll go. Like he is now.

Jason eyes the clock on the car’s dash. It’s nearing three am, you usually cut the evening short by 2:30. Not that he’s going to say anything. Across the console, you take a sip of your coffee and shift in your seat. The two of you are three days into staking out a new apartment; after two weeks of nothing at the old, Jason had called it. He hopes the man you’re looking for, a blonde, white guy connected to Black Mask’s drug ring, turns up at this place. Jason also desperately hopes he doesn’t.

“Okay, I gotta question,” you offer, voice breaking the easy silence.

“Fire away.”

“You’ve talked a surprisingly big game about classical literature,” you begin.

“Don’t know why it’s so surprising, princess,” he admonishes lazily.

“I’ve told you, you don’t look like the reading type,” you roll your eyes.

“And I’ve told you, that don’t mean shit. You’ve got no idea what I’ve got goin’ on under here,” he taps the helmet while grinning ruefully; you actually do.

“I know you’ve got a loud ass mouth that won’t shut the fuck up,” you shoot back, and he snorts. “It’s the guns, okay?” you raise your voice before he can retort. “They don’t exactly scream library card.”

“What, people with guns can’t read? Haven’t you heard of the Black Panthers and Fred Hampton?” You open your mouth, dumbfounded, and he laughs. “Knew I’d get you to shut up eventually.”

Goddamn, he’s having so much fun.

“Okay, point taken, but also, congratulations, you’re insane for reaching for Fred fucking Hampton to prove yourself right. I mean, really.” You shake your head. “Anyway, what I was going to ask was, what are your other genres?”

“Huh?” Jason’s gotten distracted by your fingernail tapping against the plastic of your coffee lid.

“Oh my god,” you roll your eyes. “You read anything besides classical lit? Anything past 1800 lining those bookshelves?”

“Frankenstein,” he answers immediately, earning another eye roll.

“Anything past 1900? 1950, cause I know you’ll say the Great Gatsby.”

He was going to say the Great Gatsby, which he read but didn’t like. “You tryna get me to say I’ve read Twilight?” He’s joking, but your face instantly colors, cheeks stained with red. Jason wants to lick it off.

“Oh, I see how it is.” He pulls his boots onto the dash, tilting his head toward you. “You were a Twi-hard, huh?”

“Shut up,” you mutter. “I couldn’t escape it. It followed me at every turn.”

“So are you team Edward?” He wishes you could see how he’s waggling his eyebrows at you.

“Shut up! It was a formative experience for some of us, okay?” you end in a huff. “Now answer my goddamn question. Do you like any modern stuff?”

Jason takes a moment to revel in the fact that you want to know more about him. His mind wanders to his bookshelf. What book will reveal the least about him? What can he say to make you laugh?

He finds it. “Lolita.”

You snort. “Of course, you fucking perv.”

“That’s the point,” he reminds you snootily.

You wave him off. “I know, I know. What else?”

Jason thinks. “Catch-22.”

“That’s a classic, but fine, I’ll allow it.”

“What about you?” he asks, energy rippling light across his skin.

You blow a stream of air through your teeth. “I’ll give you two. The Road, and We Have Always Lived in the Castle.”

Jason lets out a laugh. “Yeah, I bet you liked the Road.”

You don’t even try to argue. “I know, I know. You like it?”

“Never read it.” Jason stays clear of post-apocalyptic lit. “Read a few of Shirley Jackson’s though, I liked her stuff.”

You nod, satisfied. “Your turn, gimme another.”

Jason hesitates. He’ll be showing a lot of his scars with this one, but he decides to go for it. “The Year of Magical Thinking.”

Recognition glints like steel in your eyes. “One of my favorites.”

The air in the car shifts. Jason stares at you, mouth agape. You’ve read it. You know it. Fucking hell. Is this what he’d dared to hope for when he brought up the book? That you’d understand this crucial part of him, the part death got its hands on?

Jason can’t look away, can’t tear his eyes from your face. Your eyes soften slightly, and you give him an encouraging nod, prodding him to exhale.

He knew it. He fucking knew you were like him.

Who did you read Joan Didion for? Who were you mourning? Whose death did she get you through, like she got Jason through his own?

He’s incapable of speech for a few seconds, staring at you with wide eyes. Gently, you change the subject. “You got any more?”

Jason’s still staring at you. “Actually, let me guess one of your books.” You think for a moment, then smirk. “Station Eleven?”

That breaks the spell. “Obviously, that one’s a gimme.”

“Sure, but you like it because of the complex symbolism and literary references,” you say with a grin.

Jason blinks. You’re right on the money.

“And you know what, I’ll give you another!” you crow giddily. “I’ll bet a hundred dollars you’ve got Master and Margarita sitting on your bookshelf.”

Holy shit. You have him pinned—pinned. You’ve flayed his skin open and nailed it to a cork board. Jason hopes you scoop out his insides and examine them under a microscope, just like he wants to do to yours.

“Am I right?” you ask excitedly.

Are you right? You’re more than right, you’ve caught him between your forefinger and thumb.

Jason nods dumbly.

“Knew it!” you say happily. “Knew you like Master and Margarita! Damn, bet I’m the only one who can guess what’s on the big bad Red Hood’s reading list!”

You definitely are. You are.

Your words settle across the car. You deflate slightly in the passenger seat while Jason’s head spins.

When did you get to know him so well? How did he let that happen?

You clear your throat, and Jason whips his head up. “Want to know another one of my books?” you ask, suddenly awkward.

“Sure,” Jason croaks.

“It’s, uh,” your gaze flashes to the windshield ahead of you. Your eyes are—scared. Nervous. This barely registers before you’re taking a deep breath and turning back to him, eyes determined. “It’s Normal People. By Sally Rooney. It’s straight romance.” Your eyes cheat left, away from his mask, before snapping boldly back. “Do you read romance novels?”

Holy shit what are you doing? Are you doing what he thinks you’re doing? Are you—is this—are you asking if he—

Fuck fuck. He cannot fuck this up.

“Yeah, I read romance novels.” He is so fucking lucky he’s got the voice modulator because he is shaking in his boots. “I liked Normal People, I like Sally Rooney.”

“Cool.” Jason watches you relax and give him the sweetest smile he’s ever seen in his life. It knocks him breathless. “What did you think of the way she wrote the main character’s relationship?”

Jason wants to give you a Purple Heart for the way you’re dragging his sorry ass through this conversation. “Ah, I thought it was realistic, but disappointing, if that makes sense.”

“It does,” you agree. “If that’s love then I’m not sure I want it. Doesn’t seem like a healthy relationship.”

Jason nods. The car goes silent.

Not for long, if Jason can screw his courage to the sticking place and grow some balls. He knows he’s up to bat, and he knows what to say.

He just has to fucking say it.

Say it. Jason, say it.

“You in a relationship now?”

“Nuh-uh.” Relief bubbles across his chest, filling his lungs. One word from you, and he soars.

Something alights on his forearm. He looks down to find your fingertips resting there, on the one strip of skin uncovered by the suit. You look at him questioningly, and he nods, exhaling and tilting his head back to rest against the seat. You leave your fingers right where they are, and Jason imagines they’re searing hot, splitting him right down to the bone. He swears he can feel the swirl of your fingerprints, that he’d be able to draw them from memory. Your touch is light, gentle. He could cry.

It’s been a long time since anyone’s touched him.

Your fingers shift slightly. “Are you seeing anyone?” you ask softly.

The world blackens. Jason’s heart plummets.

This is where it falls apart. He has to put an end to this, even before it starts. He can’t have his cake and eat it, too.

“Hood?” you prompt again. “Are you with anyone?”

Just a moment longer. Let Jason pretend, let him savor your fingers on his skin. Please. Please.

“Hood.” You sound annoyed.

Gently, he moves his arm out from under your hand and taps his helmet. “Can’t tell you that, sweetheart, you know that.”

You pull in a sharp breath, and then retreat into yourself. Before Jason can blink, you’re buried where he can’t reach. “Right. Secret identity.”

Jason wants to coax you out again. “No, not identity, I’m nobody. Just some guy in a mask,” he tries to explain. “That’s who I have to be.”

You look at him skeptically. “It’s true,” Jason insists. And it is. A lesson from Batman he took to heart. “It only works if I…if I could be anyone. If it could be anyone under the mask.” And he’s got nothing without it. This is all he has. He’s the perfect hero, there’s no life to hide.

“So I’m just supposed to pretend there’s no one there, with no personality,” you ask with raised eyebrows.

Jason swallows. “Uh, yeah.”

You snort. “Okay, Lolita.”

He flushes. “That’s not—”

“That’s not what, Hood?” you demand. “Cause it sure seemed like you had a personality five minutes ago.”

He closes his eyes. “You’re right,” he agrees tonelessly. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You make an aborted sound that ends in a scoff. Jason opens his eyes to find yours tightly shut, jaw set as you breathe deeply.

What are you thinking? What are you trying to hide?

After a minute, you open your eyes, fixing your expression into a disbelieving glare. “Sure thing, Hood. Message received. I’ll forget everything I heard.” You turn to him with narrowed eyes.

Jason inhales sharply. Your words cut through him like a knife. Still, he forces himself to nod. This is how it has to be. This is who he is.

“Well. Alright.” You snap on your seatbelt, clearly dissatisfied. “I think it’s time I went home, don’t you?”

Silently, Jason puts the car in drive. His tongue feels thick and heavy, like it’s sliding down his throat. He’s gone and done it now. Whatever you two might have had is over.

Now he just has to convince himself that there’s nothing to mourn.

———

Another installment of our fearless heroes. Reader is so brave. Jason is so stupid.

Unfortunately if given the chance I will always write about Jason todd and books and overthink which ones he would like. This is a character flaw that I am not trying to correct.

Anyway.

#teeth writes #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #dc imagine #batboys imagine

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 15 days ago

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Love language Jason

You’re welcome to use it as a wallpaper.

Love u bye!!💋

#jason todd #jason todd fanart #yeah

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 22 days ago

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Janet Fitch, from her novel titled "White Oleander," originally published in 1999

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dickgraysonisnothereforthis · 23 days ago

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jailbird

jason todd x fem!reader

word count: 2.3k warnings: police, reader gets held at gunpoint and arrested (whomp whomp) and it’s a bit brutal, other than that i think it’s fine

Can you really call it a meet-cute if you meet the love of your life in a prison cell?

Yeah, this was not how you thought your day was going to go.

When your boss had told you that you needed to go and work a shift in Bludhaven, you’d shrugged. It was Bludhaven, how bad could it be? It certainly couldn’t be any worse than Gotham and it’s collective of rogues that seemed to haunt every street corner these days. Oh, and the giant man dressed as a bat. Everywhere needs it's selling point.

As it turns out, Bludhaven must be the safest place on earth, because seemingly their biggest perpetrator is you.

Everyone knew about the corrupt cops, that was a given. Everyone knew about the rag-tag villains that made their way over from Gotham and the like. What everybody didn’t know about Bludhaven, was the danger of being dragged out of your car at gunpoint by a police officer, being screamed at to get on the ground as traffic skidded perilously close to your body, handcuffed and raced to the nearest police station with the sirens screaming in your ears.

You were keeping your cool, which honestly, was quite the feat. The beginnings of tears had pricked at your eyes as they read your rights (because clearly that was something that had been considered when you’d been thrown onto the concrete), the thrum of your heartbeat rushing around your head and clouding every conceivable thought. But you held it together in spite of it all, refusing to give the smarmy officer with a twisted grin the satisfaction of watching you break down.

You still didn’t even know what you’d done.

Their hands are rough as they begin to muscle you towards a holding cell, jeering as they push you forward, feet stumbling to keep upright. You lip begins to throb from the force of your teeth sinking deep into the flesh, but still, you manage not to break.

The cells are remarkably empty, save for one a lone man whistling in the corner (he promptly quiets when you and the officers enter), and you’re pushed forward into one without much thought, knees hitting the ground sharply with the force of the shove. They don’t even take your cuffs off.

“Give us half an hour, sweetheart, we’ll be back,” the big, round officer chuckles snidely, a barking laugh coming from his counterpart behind him. The two make quiet jokes to each other as they bicker back and forth. The final swing of the door slamming shut makes every muscle tighten, and when they release again, everything else seems to be unleashed with it.

The tears are coming thick and fast before you can even register the wetness on your cheeks – it’s not sadness, its rage. You muffle quiet sobs with the back of your hand as you brush yourself off, hoisting yourself upwards with what feels like every ounce of energy left within. You hadn’t even been able to call your job and tell them that you had gotten a little caught up and probably wouldn’t be making it in today. With this luck, you were probably going to be fired by 5pm this evening.

“Hey,” a rough voice calls from across the room, startling you from your thoughts. It’s surprisingly tender, “You doin’ okay?”

You wipe your eyes roughly, staring upwards towards the man in the cell across from you, taking him in with a long glance. He’s tall, but more so than that, he’s huge. Honestly, it’s a surprise they fit him through the doors around here. Even through his tattered hoodie and jeans, it’s not hard to tell he has the physique of some kind of bodybuilder, the muscles in his forearms taut as he leans casually against the bars. A mop of unruly black hair lays atop his head, broken by a vivid strike of white curled against his forehead.

In normal circumstances, you would be intimidated by the sheer stature of a man like him, but his eyes are what capture your attention. A gentle baby blue, flecked with stripes of green than seem to flicker as he stares – they’re kind. There’s a softness to his gaze that was more courteous than any other you’d experienced so far today.

He’s exceptionally attractive, so there’s always that.

“Yeah, yeah,” your voice is brittle when it finally comes out, “I’m, uhm, okay, just a rough morning.”

“What have they got you in here for?” His head tilts to the side with and ever so slightly furrow of his brow, “no offense, but you don’t exactly strike me as the armed robbery type.”

You have to stifle a laugh at the absurdity of the situation, “Uhm, I’m not really sure, to be honest with you. I was just driving to work and now I’m here.”

“What?” His voice is sharp and there’s an edge to it that can’t be mistaken, “they just arrested you and didn’t tell you what it was for? That’s like Policing 101.”

“Tell me about it,” you huff, heart rate finally beginning to slow, “I…haven’t done anything. I mean yeah, I accidentally stole that yoghurt at the checkout but that was like a month ago, and that was just because I forgot to scan it! And that was in Gotham, not here. I’ve never even been here before!”

A grin fights its way onto the face of the handsome stranger, and he shakes his head in what seems to be a smidge of disbelief, “Oh that’ll be it, I hear they’ve been looking for the reprobate that did that one for weeks now. But seriously,” he pauses and his eyes narrow, “they hurt you?”

“No,” you hum, before sighing and settling yourself back onto the floor, it was likely going to be a fair bit longer than half hour before you got out of here anyway, “they were a little rough. Unnecessarily forceful, pulled a gun, but I’m not hurt.” Not physically anyway.

If you weren’t staring directly at him, you would’ve missed the way the stranger’s eyes darken, swathes of green seeming to swim faster around his irises. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he looked like he was planning a murder. You’re suddenly struck by the potential danger of your new companion, after all, he was trapped in a cell same as you.

He shakes the look from his eyes almost instantly, stretching his noticeably uncuffed hands out behind him with a sickening crack. For a second, he seems to wince at the action but quickly pulls himself back to his languid stance against the bars.

“What about you?” you bite the bullet despite your reservations, offering him a small smile to show there was no animosity in the question, “what did they get you for?”

“Armed Robbery,” he replies without missing a beat making you choke a little, a shark-like grin stretching across his lips, a soft chuckle rattling his chest, “No, I'm joking. Speeding - but I happen to be a very good driver.”

“Oh, is that right?” you bite back playfully, “I thought I took the wrong turn to the motor track but apparently I made it in the end.”

Both of your laughs seem to mingle together in the stagnant air of the cells, his deep vibrato making something stir in the pit of your stomach. Isn’t this like rule number one of stranger danger? Don’t be enchanted by random man met in prison cell on a Tuesday lunchtime.

“Okay, Comedy Club,” the stranger lets out a bemused sigh, “so tell me, how does a degenerate like you end up in a paradise like Bludhaven?”

Your eyes meet for a second, and in spite of every warning sign, you can’t help but feel an affinity for this guy. He’s funny, and he’s handsome, and oh fuck it, it’s not like there’s anything else you could stand a chance to lose today.

“So, it starts with my bastard of a boss, right?”

Handsome stranger is in the middle of regaling you with a story about how him and his best friend accidentally turned a lighter into a blowtorch when the angry voice cuts through the room, metal door slamming open with a clang against the wall behind it.

“Jason, seriously? Why can’t you just call like a normal person? One-twenty in a fifty! I mean seriously!” A dark-haired officer rushes forward to face Jason’s cell. He’s not as tall as the former, a lot leaner, but seems to be fairly strong from the way the bars rattle as his hand clamps around one, “You know how busy I’ve been. If this is about B-“

“Dickhead,” Jason bites with a smug grin, nodding towards you in the cell opposite, “Good to know your senses are as astute as always. I know Alfred taught you the same manners he taught me. We have company.”

The officer spins on his heel with a sheepish grin, a nervous laugh dripping from his mouth. He’s also strikingly attractive in that universally-accepted, male model kind of way – not as much so as Jason, who seems to be constructed entirely of hard lines and edges.

“Pardon my manners, I’m Officer Grayson. Dick Grayson,” the man offers kindly, a warm mirth in his eyes, “I was simply distracted by this one here. He’s a real problem, like, you wouldn’t believe.”

Jason kicks him through the bars, eliciting a yelp from Dick, who only seems to offer him a scowl in response. You realise all at once the similarities between how the two hold themselves, their seemingly boisterous way with one and other, and also the fact that Officer Grayson hasn’t called in any support and tackled Jason to the ground. Brothers.

“I did call, Dickiebird,” Jason hums, “You didn’t pick up.”

“You called once, Jay!” Dick sounds utterly exasperated, “I’m at work – and trying to be professional.” Dick throws a few pointed head movements in your direction.

“It’s important, Dick,” Jason’s voice steels, and all of a sudden there’s the same seriousness you caught a glimpse of briefly when you’d mentioned the gun earlier, “About our mutual friend, you know the one.”

Concern passes Dick’s face briefly, the light of realisation brightening his eyes. Wordlessly, Dick swipes his badge against the cell door, and it swings open, prompting Jason to straighten up to his full height and step out into the light.

Heaven almighty.

“I get off in twenty, and I reckon we have about thirty before they realise you’re not going to show up on the system. Can I trust you to wait outside?” Dick concedes, staring uncertainly towards his brother.

“Been outside before, Dickhead,” Jason grumbles roughly, “Not a fucking animal.”

“Yeah, okay Jay. Cuffs?” Dick asks, brow pinched between his fingers. Without a sound and nothing more than a shit-eating grin, Jason slowly peels the missing cuffs out of his pocket, placing them in Dick’s open palm, who reacts with little more than a sigh, “I’ve been telling them we need better ones for months.”

“Cuffs aren’t the problem, Dickie,” Jason chuckles, pushing his way past his counterpart towards the door. Dick turns on his heel and begins to follow, reaching around to open the door.

“I don’t understand why you were in there for so long, Jaybird. You could’ve broken out hours ago,” Dick mutters, seemingly to himself more than anything.

Jason’s gaze flicks to you, warmth in his features, and with a soft smile he utters, “I had some pretty good company. See ya’ around, Comedy Club.”

You offer him a soft smile in return, trying to ignore the way your heart batters against your ribcage. Jason.

The door shuts behind them. You are alone, again, still in a prison cell and mostly definitely in need of a new job – but for some reason, you don’t feel too bad about it all.

It takes all of five minutes for Dick to return, storming in and muttering profanities under his breath. He presses his badge against your cell door. It swings open, and he takes a hasty step forward to start undoing the cuffs that have left deep indents on your wrists.

“I can’t give you those hours of your life back, but I can apologise,” his words are sincere, and marred by some kind of resentment, “I am so sorry about this. They mistook you for someone else who we’ve had a warrant out for a while now – but they had no reason to treat you like they did. If you want to press charges, I can point you in the right direction.”

“It’s alright,” you offer, surprised by the cheer in your own voice, “it really wasn’t that bad in the end. And I can check one thing off the bucket list, I suppose.”

Dick chokes back a laugh, unable to fight the grin that fights its way forward. “I like you, kid, you got some spirit. Now come on, enjoy your freedom. Who knows how long it’ll be before you're back behind bars again, huh?”

The transition out of the station goes a lot more smoothly than your entrance. As you take your possessions back from the front desk, you’re fairly certain you can hear Dick admonishing the two officers that arrested you from the adjacent room.

Now, that makes you smile.

Stepping out into the parking lot, you feel silly as you glance around, hoping to catch one last glimpse of Jason before you likely never see him again – maybe even exchange numbers. You find yourself thoroughly unsurprised when he’s nowhere to be seen.

By the time you make it back home to Gotham, the sky has dulled to a smog-laced, inky black, nothing but moonlight bleeding out into the darkness. It may be gross, criminally-infested and maybe the worst-holiday destination in the entire world, but its home. As your keys sink into the front door of your apartment building and your breath pools out in an icy furl, you swear you catch a flash out of red out of the corner of your eye. It’s probably nothing more than some rogue out causing trouble after sundown, nothing out of the ordinary.

It's only when you collapse onto the couch that the weight of the day finally hits you, limbs feeling suspiciously like lead as you melt into the cushions.

What a day.

Jason joking about armed robbery like he doesn't commit actual murder on the regular.

If you liked it, well, like it - a reblog is always appreciated. If not, leave me alone.

#nice nice #always love a Jason and dick interaction #jason todd x reader

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