Roy Harper Imagine - Tumblr Posts

I Got You- Jayroy Fanfic

Words: 2,086    Request: No   Type: Gay

  Roy was aware that the best thing to do would be to leave Gotham as soon as possible, knowing that the Batman was on the hunt for a certain Red Hood. Roy was also aware that if Batman were to find them, they were both likely to be thrown in prison- or rather Arkham Asylum. At least, that was where Jason was going. But, Jason was bleeding, and Roy needed to stitch him up as soon as possible. So as Roy struggled with the lock of his hideout on the outskirts of Gotham, he peered behind himself one more time, his eyes scanning the rooftops for any sign of a masked vigilante. When the archer was sure it was safe to enter, he kicked in the door and hauled a bleeding Jason into the hideout.

  It wasn’t the nicest place, but it would do for the time being- they wouldn’t be there very long. As Roy tried to plan out what he was to do with Jason, he dropped his bow on the ground with a loud, echoing, clank which made Jason let out a whine. Wrapping his arm tighter around Jason, who leaned his head on Roy’s shoulder, Roy began to practically drag Jason to the bathroom. There, Roy lowered Jason into the bathtub, fully clothed. Roy quickly scrambled to the sink where, in the cabinet, there was a first-aid kit filled with an assortment of tools. Situating himself back at Jason’s side, Roy began to pick at the first-aid kit, pulling out what he thought would be useful, and once he had everything he needed set to the side, he turned his attention back to Jason. Jason still wore his helmet, or at least what was left of it. Roy reached behind Jason’s head, releasing the helmet from his head. Pulling the shattered red remains from the mop of black hair, more injuries were revealed. A swollen eye, and scratches across his cheeks and forehead. A dislocated arm and cuts that needed to be stitched were among the other injuries that were scattered about Jason’s body.

 “Alright, Jaybird,” Roy sighed, pulling Jason to sit up by his good arm. It was a struggle, but Roy managed to work off his coat and upper armor. Bruised, maybe broken ribs, Roy thought. Watching Jason’s chest heave up and down rapidly, Roy realized that Jason was more than likely panicking, which wouldn’t help with the blood pouring out of his body, or feel too good on his ribcage. Roy hummed as he moved back to the cabinet, grabbing a bottle. It was an anxiety relief, which he was hoping would work for Jason. Shaking one out of the bottle, Roy returned to Jason. “Here, take this, it will help,” Roy said. Jason remained still, his eyes squeezed shut. Roy sighed, leaning forward to open Jason’s mouth and drop the pill in before he closed his mouth again. “Swallow it.” Jason seemed to listen, taking a hard gulp, wincing again. 

  As Roy got to cleaning and stitching the larger cuts, Jason’s breathing slowed. When the copious amount of bleeding ceased, Roy moved to Jason’s bad arm. This, Roy knew, was the worst of it, and Jason wasn’t going to like it. Who would? Having an arm relocated wasn’t a walk in the park exactly. But it wasn’t the dislocation that hurt Jason so badly, it was who had done it to him that was the cause of the tears rolling down Jason’s reddened cheeks. Roy, without giving a warning, relocated the arm in one quick motion, to which Jason yelped and writhed. Not knowing it’s coming is better than expecting it, Roy had been taught by Oliver. 

  Next, Roy moved to Jason’s ribs, which he assessed, and came to the conclusion that at least one was broken, but he couldn’t wrap Jason’s chest yet, as the man was still covered in uncleaned cuts and blood. So much blood, that Roy couldn’t tell what was a cut and what wasn’t. Great.

 “Help me take off your pants,” Roy said, a hand running down his face. Jason’s eyebrows scrunched together in confusion.

 “What?” Jason’s voice cracked. 

 “I need to wash you off so I can find the rest of your cuts, clean them, and wrap your chest and ribs up,” Roy explained. Good thing Roy had already seen everything, Jason supposed. As he slowly wiggled from the rest of his clothes, he pondered that which was his relationship with Roy. They were never official, technically, though everyone knew that the two of them were something. They were exclusive. They had spent countless nights together. Unofficial dates, mostly because neither of them wanted to call it a ‘date’. It was mostly the fact that neither of them had the balls to ask the other if they were officially boyfriends. 

  Jason tossed the rest of his clothes, boots included, out of the tub, and the water was promptly turned on. The hot water that poured down into the tub felt heavenly on Jason’s aching body. Muscles and joints were sore and limp, and the water seemingly worked wonders on aiding that discomfort. Roy knelt beside the tub again, leaning against the side of the porcelain bath with a tired groan. 

 “You took a Klonopin for your anxiety, so no pain reliever for a while, alright?” Roy said, his head rolling back to rest on the side of the tub. He waited for Jason to respond, but when he did not receive one, he peeped one eye open. Roy slid on the floor, turning around to face Jason, who finally seemed calmed. “You awake?” He tried softly. Jason seemed to mirror Roy’s previous action and opened one eye in response, though Roy wasn’t sure he could actually open the other eye anymore.

 “I heard,” Jason said, his voice hoarse and worn. Roy scowled. For a moment he contemplated his next actions, before deciding to follow his instinct. Without anymore spoken words, Roy slid his hand up to Jason’s, which gripped the side of the bathtub in a tight hold, where he pried at Jason’s fingers for a moment. Slowly, as if fighting off the pain, Jason released his grip, letting Roy card his pale fingers between Jason’s tanned, and bloody ones. Squeezing tightly, Roy brought Jason’s limp hand to his lips briefly, a gesture of both affection and concern. 

 “You wanna talk ‘bout it, baby,” Roy yawned, his other arm coming up to rest on the side of the tub, his head resting in the crook of his elbow. Jason shifted a bit, moving closer to Roy as much as he could. Roy took notice of a slight shake to Jason’s hand and squeezed a bit tighter.

   “No,” Jason said, his mouth pulled into a tight line. 

   “S’okay,” Roy mumbled, rubbing at his eyes, “I gotta finish stitching you up, eventually,” Roy pointed out.

   “Later,”

   “Not too much later, Jay, you might still be bleeding,” Roy reasoned. Jason said nothing in response, choosing rather to sink further into the hot water. Roy felt his mouth twitch up involuntarily as he watched Jason finally seem to relax. Crawling onto his knees and leaning down to Jason’s level, Roy gently, in a mindful manner, placed his lips on Jason’s, who reacted almost immediately. It was a sweet, simple kiss, one that held meaning. It said, ‘I got you,’ and ‘I’m glad I got there in time.’

   When the two separated, Jason’s grey eye (the one that wasn’t swelled shut) met Roy’s bright green eyes that were slightly creased as the archer smiled. Jason pulled Roy back shortly thereafter, as a continuation of the first kiss. It felt, to Roy, as if it were a response: ‘Thank you.’

   When it came time to pull Jason out of the bath, Roy disappeared from the bathroom for a moment, going to retrieve a clean pair of boxers from the dresser by the bed. When he came back, the water had been drained, and Jason had already begun to dry himself off with the towel Roy had tossed at him. It was less of a struggle to put clothes on, then it had been to take them off. Once Jason was no longer entirely naked, Roy assisted him out of the tub, and into the main room where the bed was. 

   The bed was large. Roy had insisted upon getting the largest bed he could find, as this was the hideout that he and Jason usually spent time together in. The enormous amount of mattress also made it much more comfortable to sleep beside each other on. The bed was layered with an absurd amount of blankets- Roy guessed at least six at this point. Jason ran cold, Roy thought it might have been a symptom of dying and being resurrected, so the larger man had to pile blankets on himself to keep warm. And the hundreds of pillows that were splayed about the bed and floor were Roy’s idea.

   Roy, as he had been doing all night, was gentle with Jason as he set him down onto the bed. Jason let out a sound that made Roy think he was in pain, but as his eyes scanned over Jason, he realized it had been a sound of exhaustion. 

   “I think you need a few more stitches, and then I can work on your ribs,” Roy said, mostly to himself. The redhead retrieved the kit once more and began to fix the damage that had been done to Jason. 

   Roy thought himself lucky, and Jason too. Roy had been working a job on the east side of Gotham City and had seen the live projection of the execution. Roy guessed what would happen next and was quick to head in the direction of Jason (it was also lucky that the news report also gave the location.) He was almost too late, as when he arrived the Bat had been in the midst of dragging Jason’s limp form off to Arkham. Roy pondered where Jason’s new friends- Artemis and Bizarro- had run off to. Unreliable friends, Roy thought.

   As he placed the last stitch, he grabbed the bandages, and carefully assessed Jason’s ribs before wrapping them. A broken rib near the top, Roy decided.

   “You can’t move too much. We can go to the car, but after we get to where we’re going, you stay in bed,” Roy said, his voice affirmative. Jason scoffed, then coughed.  “Take deep breaths, you’ll get pneumonia.”

   Roy was careful not to wrap the ribs tightly. When he finished, he set the bandages down and brought his attention to Jason’s eye. Roy hissed.

   “Ouch,” Roy guessed.

   “Yeah,” Jason said in a sigh. “Ice.”

   It was a demand and one that Roy was willing to comply to. Shuffling off to the kitchen, Roy rummaged through the almost bare freezer and settled on frozen peas and corn. One for the eye, and the other for the ribs. Jason hummed in approval, placing the frozen bag over his eye, and then the one on his very sore rib cage. Roy felt himself begin to relax as he watched Jason finally rest. They couldn’t stay long, but sleep was sleep. Roy busied himself with packing.

   Where Roy was planning on going already had his and Jason’s clothes stored away in it, but he knew a few things that Jason would want. Namely, the red sweatshirt that had an array of holes in it, and had loose threads hanging from it. Roy wasn’t sure why Jason was so attached to it, but the black haired boy took it almost everywhere with him, often slept in it. And then there was the plain black turtleneck. Alfred had given it to Jason the year after he returned to Gotham, the butler wanted him to have something decent to wear. Roy had taken note months ago that Jason wore it on days he was missing home- not that Jason would admit to it out loud.

   Roy made quick trips out to the Jeep, storing their bags and gear in it. He knew he had to be quick, Batman was sure to be gliding about overhead, looking for his son. If Jason was his son anymore. Roy didn’t want to think about that. Starting up the engine of the car, he made the last trip inside which was to retrieve Jason. Running a hand against his scalp, Jason shook back awake with a grumble. Standing up, more steady then the last time he did, the two made their way to the car and sped off out of Gotham City.

We're strangers these days (but that has to be enough)

damn your love, damn your lies - series masterlist here

pairing: roy harper x reader (gender neutral)

length: 1.3k

genre: angst (happy ending to come <3)

warnings: ex bf roy harper but I promise they're gonna get back together (eventual happy ending), reader is kinda stressed and unwell, reader also wears glasses, hopeful ending here

a/n: is this any good bc you know sometimes I can't tell

You ignore the first knock on your apartment door. You know who it is. You know because it's always him, and because the sound of his fist against the wood of your door is something you've heard so many times. You don't bother turning the volume on your TV down - he knows you're here and he knows you're ignoring him. Whatever.

But he knocks again, a heavier, more insistent sound. This time you pull yourself up, walking listlessly towards your door to pull it open.

"You ignoring me now, sunshine?" Roy drawls, leaning against your doorframe.

"What do you want this time, Roy?" You sigh. Usually, by this point, he'd flash that stupidly smug grin of his and let himself into your home. This time, however, is different. This time, he looks you up and down briefly, frowning a bit as he takes in your state - messy hair, undereye bags, and oversized clothes. He shrugs.

"I think I left something of mine here. Lemme come in and take a look?" He walks in while he says it, not waiting for an answer.

"We've been broken up for months, Roy. Eventually, you're going to run out of fake belongings to come over here and sniff around for," you say as you cross your arms. Roy just grins in that annoying way of his.

"You mind if I check the bedroom?" he throws over his shoulder as he heads down the hall. You hear your bedroom door open and you rub a hand against your forehead, trying to ward off your oncoming headache as you slouch down onto your couch. You know he'll be back out as soon as he's had enough of pretending to search for something that doesn't exist. 

Your nails tap against the arm of the couch as you wait, time stretching on as you strain to hear any sort of sound from him. He's in your bedroom, shuffling things around and opening and closing drawers. The door of your closet slides open and your heart clenches - what you're hearing now is no different than what you heard when he lived here with you, when this was home for the two of you. You dig the heels of your palms into your closed eyes and try to rid the word from your mind. Home.

"What the hell happened in there?" is what Roy finally says when he leaves your room, sitting down next to you, close enough that his thigh brushes against yours. You straighten and stand at the contact, huffing and moving to stand in front of him. 

"What are you talking about?"

"It's… a mess in your bedroom. I've never seen it any way other than spotless." Roy points out. You scowl at him.

"You've lost your right to comment on my living situation," you say icily. "And you've overstayed your welcome - again." Roy settles further into the cushions, arms crossing to mimic yours as he looks you up and down. You glare back - you'd never been the one to break during fights with him, and that isn't something you're planning on changing now.

"I didn't know you wore glasses," he says finally, his voice dropping to a gentle murmur. You reel back and touch the frames on your face.

"I wear contacts," you point out.

"Not right now."

"Why does it matter?" You pull the glasses off and move to toss them onto the coffee table. He catches them, though, and you curse his vigilante reflexes as he turns them over in his hands.

"I've never seen you like this," he muses. You shift on your feet.

"Like what?"

"Not… put together. Not all dolled up." Your glare turns lethal at Roy's words and he blinks up at you.

"Thank you," you reply sarcastically. Roy rolls his eyes, your bite something he's intimately familiar with. He stares at you, then, sizing you up in a way that makes you straighter subconsciously, a hand running through your hair.

"We lived together, you know," he says lowly.

"Yes, I'm aware."

"I never saw you like this," he points out. You step away from him, moving to sit in the armchair tucked in the opposite corner of your living room.

"No one sees me like this," you remind him. Roy huffs and stares down at the glasses still in his hand.

"I know," he says bitterly. "That was the problem, wasn't it? You never let me really see you."

"You saw more than anyone else," you defend, but even now, your posture straightens and you smooth down your shirt. Roy glares at the movement.

"It was never enough," he says eventually.

"I was never enough," you correct him.

"No," he shoots back. "You were - you were everything to me. But you didn't… you couldn't let me be anything to you." His hand tightens around your glasses and he puts them on the coffee table quickly, rubbing his palm up and down the denim covering his thigh as he thinks of all the other things he almost broke between the two of you.

"You were… more to me than I ever could've told you," you say slowly, your voice quiet as you keep your eyes trained on the floor. Roy sighs, rubbing a hand against his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he offers, an olive branch extended. "I shouldn't have dragged this back up. I just… what's going on with you, sunshine?"

"Nothing," is your quick response. He arches a brow.

"You don't look well," Roy points out, wincing internally as your glare snaps back to him.

"That's none of your business anymore, Roy. You lost the right to care about me when you left me."

"Come on, don't be like that…" he pleads as you stand, heading to your front door. He trails after you, just like he always has - just like he always will. "Just because we're not together anymore doesn't mean you're not important to me still."

"Goodbye, Roy," you say pointedly, standing next to your door with your arms crossed. He plants himself opposite you, matching your glare.

"What is wrong with you?" He huffs. "Why won't you let me in? Why won't you let me help you?"

"I don't need -"

"But I can -"

"Please don't, Roy," you soften in a way that throws him off balance, your shoulders slumping as your hands bunch the fabric of your shirt. "I don't want to fight with you… I don't like it."

"Neither do I, sunshine," he says softly, uncrossing his arms and relaxing his posture. "But I'm worried about you." You smile at him, but it's a small, sad thing that makes his heart break a little bit more.

"I'm ok, Roy," you say quietly. He sighs and steps towards you. You let him, to his surprise.

"I know you are. I know you can handle this all on your own, but… you don't have to. I'm here, still - always." You don't respond to him, your eyes big and glassy as you look up at him. When he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead you let him, your hands reaching to brush against his shirt, almost like you want to hold onto him.

"Time to go now, Roy," is what you say instead, but your voice is missing its usual bite. Roy steps away, opening your door and looking back at you one last time before he leaves.

"Oh…" he says. "I didn't get what I was here for. That, uh… thing that I'm missing. Oh well, I'm sure I'll find it next time I come around." The grin he flashes you makes you huff as he closes the door behind him. 

Rubbing a hand over the back of your neck, you walk back to your living room to slump into the couch where he had just been, your glasses sitting abandoned on the coffee table. As you pick them up, you eye the messy fingerprints he's left on the lenses. Somehow, you find they don't bother you, and you toss the glasses back onto the table without cleaning them. Oh well - you can harp on him about it next time he comes around.

Jason, standing outside an apartment with a prom sign:

Roy, leaning out of the window: Oh my god YES!!!

Jason: No! Tell Y/n!

Roy, yelling: Y/n! I’m going to prom! WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND!