electra⭑.ᐟ

𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆: ᴘᴜɴᴋʀᴏᴄᴋᴇʀ - ᴛᴇᴅᴅʏʙᴇᴀʀꜱ, ɪɢɢʏ ᴘᴏᴘ

— ᴇʟᴇᴄᴛʀᴀ 𝄞⨾𓍢ִ໋ she/her, aries, infp, hufflepuff, daughter of apollo, jason todd's girl, probably listening to suki waterhouse, film enthusiast, james potter variant⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢

── .✦ 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬 | 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐜𝐞𝐬 | WIP: on this love! ★ genesis

i write for: marvel, percy jackson, genshin impact, marauders, dc talk to me about: anything and everything superhero, demon slayer, attack on titan, harry potter, genshin lore, greek mythology, travel, music, film (+ above)

jason todd x spy!reader summary: a world class spy and a vigilante have been married for five or six years, only to see their marriage come crashing down when their double lives are revealed contains: swearing, violence, mentions of weapons, reader is a hit woman/spy, inspired by the 2005 movie "mr & mrs smith" word count: 3.8k a/n: genesis (my jason todd f1 au) chapter out soon

Five or six years ago…

The day you met Jason Todd was one you’d never forget. 

You’d been hired to take out a secret service agent who’d fled to Barcelona. Police were closing in on you and you needed a cover story fast. Choosing the first young eligible bachelor you could find, you made your way over to him confidently, saying a silent prayer that he did not smell the gunpowder on your blouse. He was tall, taller than you even in heels, and he had the kind of build that could make a woman weak in the knees. Or maybe that was just the ligament you tore last week running from a bombing. You wrapped a hand around his bicep and smiled devilishly at the police officer, who just scoffed and walked away.

Jason was on his first ever vacation and wanted nothing to do with vigilantism for the next week. He wanted to get away from that life and away from that crowd. But…he was still human. So when a beautiful woman ran up to him, pretending to be his partner while the police interrogated her, all he could do was nod along dumbly. She had a mischievous look in her eye, something that screamed danger and excitement, but comfort at the same time. Jason was almost reminded of Selina Kyle, Catwoman, but he hoped this woman aired more on the legal side of things than the aforementioned. 

Once the police had left, you turned to Jason to apologize and hopefully find yourself on the next flight out of the country, but he just looked at you with a stupid smile that made your heart flutter. He bought you a drink, told you how beautiful you were one too many times, and one thing led to another and you woke up in his hotel room. 

You couldn’t say you regretted it though, because that week you spent together in Barcelona was the best of your life. Your mission was a success, you had gotten laid, and had an extremely attractive man following you around like a lost puppy. 

You weren’t surprised when he proposed three months later.

It wasn’t like you to rush into things, but he seemed like a really great guy, okay? Plus, your agency had just announced your transfer to Gotham and it wouldn’t hurt to have a cover story. You’d play the perfect wife, oblivious and innocent, praying that if you stayed out of his business he’d stay out of yours. You never asked why he came home at four in the morning and you never mentioned the limp. In return, he never looked too closely into how often you went on “business trips” or why your cell phone changed models each month. 

The two of you were living your best lives, willfully ignorant of each other.

Present day…

The morning started off like any other. 

Jason was fast asleep when you got up. You showered, made breakfast, put a few things in the safe behind the freezer he didn’t know about, and took your laundry out of the dryer. Your boss had called you in earlier than normal, so you had left for work already by the time Jason woke up. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to live like this, existing in a shared space rather than living together in a home. Jason eventually made his way to the manor, having been called in about a drug smuggling operation that was supposed to happen tonight. He knew it was major, otherwise Bruce would’ve handled it himself without the help of the team.

Jason was just about to text you that he wasn’t going to make it for dinner when he got that exact message from you. It was convenient for him, so why should he read into it?

Ten hours later, you were laid flat on your stomach atop a building, staring through the lens of a sniper rifle. Next to you lay your laptop, feeding you live coverage from the security cameras inside the warehouse. According to your boss, at 8pm sharp a kingpin you’d identified as Samara Fray was going to make a very rare public appearance. She’d been linked to hundreds of assaults and deaths over the last year and had made a fortune smuggling drugs to and from countries. But more importantly, she had information about your organization and she was now working for the enemy. It should’ve been a quick, clean kill, but a family of bats was about to make your life ten times more difficult.

Jason, on the other hand, was stuck living by Batman’s “no kill rule” for this mission. He was stationed on a rooftop just barely out of your line of sight. Dick sat next to him, talking away while they awaited Bruce’s signal. When it came, they sprung into action, vaulting over a fence and breaking the chain lock on the door. Shouting rang from inside as Jason kicked the door down, coming face to face with the woman he was after.

You watched with a scowl as Red Hood fought your target, and you really tried your best to wait for a clear shot, but you were never really known for your patience. Pulling the trigger, you swore as you missed and nipped the shoulder of the vigilante who looked around frantically trying to spot his shooter. You looked back at your security cam footage and saw Samara running towards a van near the river. Gunfire still echoed from the warehouse as you turned your focus back towards your scope and locked back on to Samara. Taking another shot, you watched her yelp out in pain, but you’d still missed any vital organs. She ducked into a van which you already could tell would be bulletproof and you watched in dismay as your target fled the scene. 

A voice crackled through your earpiece. It was your boss informing you to forget Samara and to take the shot on Red Hood and any other vigilante in the area. There was enough prize money on the three of them to make up for your failed attempt at the drug lord. So adjusting your position, you focused on Red Hood. He stood at the center of a pile of bodies, all unconscious and bruised, shouting aggressively to Nightwing. You took another shot, watching the vigilantes duck for cover. 

Letting out another exasperated grunt, you shook your head trying to regain your focus. You followed the three men as they made a swift escape, each of them looking just as frustrated as you were at the failed mission. You continued to watch as they scaled a fire escape up to a nearby rooftop and just as you were about to take your shot on Red Hood, one that this time you wouldn’t miss, he pulled off his helmet.

Through the lens of your rifle, you stared at your husband Jason Todd as he pulled the bullet you had shot at him out of his armor. 

Scrambling, you quickly packed up your things and left the rooftop, desperate to get home before your partner did. With an order to take out Red Hood, the same man you had been married to for years, you had to ensure you’d be home before he was to prepare. 

Jason stared at the bullet in disbelief. He had shot a lot of rounds in his life and he knew just about every bullet type by heart. So you can imagine his shock when he found that he had been shot with the same one of a kind ammunition only he carried. It didn’t take long for him to put two and two together, he was the son of a world class detective after all. 

When he arrived home, he was slightly unnerved by just how quiet everything was. He rounded the corner to the kitchen quickly, searching for you. Your car was parked in the driveway next to his motorcycle like always, and Jason knew that you were home. 

“Honey?” he called out, bringing a hand to the gun on his hip. “Where are you at, sweetheart?”

For several moments, there was nothing but silence. Just as Jason was about to enter your bedroom, the smell of gasoline stopped him. Turning around, he met your eyes.

“Hey, baby,” you smiled, gun pointed at the crease in his brow. “Whatcha doing home so early?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Jason said slowly, pulling his own weapon from its holster. “You wanna put that down, doll? Or are we gonna have a problem?”

“Nothing but a little domestic dispute,” you muttered before firing two shots at your husband. 

Jason ducked behind the counter, cocking his gun and taking a shot at the window next to you. You turned and ran for the front door, only to fall when he grabbed your ankle to stop you. You kicked him harshly in the head, grabbing a shard of glass and lodging it into the hand wrapped around your leg.

“FUCK!” he yelled, releasing his grip. “Sweetheart, let’s just talk about this.”

“What’s there to talk about, you psycho!” you shouted back, grabbing a lighter from the counter and continuing your sprint to the front door. You reached to turn the handle only to be stopped by a bullet piercing through the wooden frame.

“I can’t let you go, doll, you know that.” Jason approached you, gun still aimed at your head. “So what are you, CIA? FBI? Private investigation?”

Sliding a hand to the lighter in your pocket, you answered him with a smile. “I don’t work for the government, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?” 

“Oh it’s nothing personal, baby,” you said sincerely. “Just following orders.”

You threw the lighter on the ground, sparking the gasoline trail you had left before Jason arrived home. While your kitchen went up in flames, you took your chance to slip out the front door and make a dash for your car, ignoring the gun shots behind you. 

Shaking off any sense of regret from setting your house (and husband) on fire, you jumped into your car and sped down the street. You didn’t make it far before Jason’s own bike pulled up beside you, a gun in his hand. He shot through your window, narrowly missing your head as the bullet pierced through the driver’s side window. Ducking your head, you aggressively yanked the wheel towards Jason, ramming the side of your car into his bike and making him jump off. But Jason shot out your tires and you cursed yourself for forgetting to get bulletproof ones. You could see Jason approaching you in your rear view mirror and you hastily reached to load the gun you kept in your glove compartment. 

His clothes were slightly charred and Jason looked angrier than you had ever seen him. He reached into the car to grab you, but you shot at his shoulder once again, causing him to curse and stutter backwards in pain. You climbed out of the passenger side and sprinted as far as you could, dialing your friend’s number at the same time. 

You had been staying with Selina Kyle for the better half of a week while you tried to figure out how to kill your husband. Selina refused to get directly involved, but she managed to give you a bit of advice. She’d been in an on again off again relationship with Bruce Wayne since before you could remember, and she knew leading a double life wasn’t easy. But it wasn’t like Jason was a cop, and he wasn’t nearly as prudish as Bruce (her words, not yours). You still had to kill him though, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Attempting to take out Jason on his home turf was stupid and you weren’t going to pretend otherwise. But you didn’t have much of a choice. He hadn’t shown his face and once your boss had caught on to the fact that you were married to Red Hood, you were given a 48hr deadline to confirm the kill or it was your head on the chopping block. You were now down to 16 hours. The Wayne Mansion was far larger than you remembered from the few times you’d been since you married Jason. You’d tried earlier to hack their security feed, but whoever set it up was far better than you’d imagined and hacking it was hopeless. You would have to go in blind.

Jason watched you approach the mansion on the security cameras from over Tim’s shoulder. Just about every family member was gathered here today, knowing that you’d be coming to kill him. However, Bruce had refused to get involved and banned the rest of his kids from engaging as well, so everyone was merely here for entertainment purposes. Jason was actually kind of glad they’d be left out of this. He knew his family wouldn’t kill you and neither would he, but there was no saying you would show them the same mercy. 

When you kicked down the door to the mansion, you called out Jason’s name, desperate to get this over with and be on your way. As you searched each room for the man, you couldn’t help but start to second guess whether or not you could really kill him. There was a reason you had married him after all, it wasn’t like you hated the guy. But he was your mission and as far as you were aware, you were his. 

“Hey sweetheart,” Jason said from behind you. Whipping around you fired a shot at the first moving object you saw, which ended up being just a bat. Down in the cave below, the rest of the family was watching in shock and horror at just how fast you had tried to kill him. Dick made some joke about a psychotic sister in law and Stephanie tried not to think about all the secrets you two had whispered in face masks and under shared blankets.

“Come out Jay, stop being a pussy!” you yelled down the hall, trying to find where he had gone. 

“Promise you won’t shoot me?” he asked.

You scoffed, but agreed anyway, placing your gun back at your side. Jason walked out with his hands up and you fought every urge in your body to kiss him shoot him.

“How long have you been doing the costume gig?” you asked, gesturing to the bulletproof armor he was wearing.You were wearing a vest of your own, but something about Jason’s eyes told you he wasn’t planning on killing you. 

“Since I was thirteen. Died for a bit and came back though,” he said carefully.

“Shame.” 

Jason laughed at your reply, inching closer to you. 

“I don’t want to hurt you, doll, and I don’t think you want to hurt me either.” He was so close you could touch him now, and per your training, your eyes flicked around for anything within arms reach to smack him with. It was more a reflex than genuine want at this point, but you had a mission to complete.

“Who says I don’t want to hurt you?” You backed up, now leaning against a table and inching your fingers towards a flower pot. 

“Five years of marriage, hopefully.” Jason’s eyes flickered towards your hand. 

“Six.”

“What?” His face contorted in confusion.

“We’ve been married six years.” You said casually.

“Are you sure?”

You rolled your eyes, now really wanting to hit him. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Okay fine, six years of marriage,” Jason said sarcastically before adding “Don’t hit me with that flower pot, angel.”

You grinned. “You always were great at reading my mind.” 

Raising your arm to smash the vase on his head, he knocked it away and grabbed you in a headlock, a few ceramic shards piercing your skin. Jason took the gun from your hip and threw it across the floor. 

“Can’t hurt me anymore, can you sweetheart?”

Jason instantly regretted his choice of wording when you stabbed him with a knife you had hidden in your boot. It didn’t seem to do much damage though, even though you caught a gap in his armor, and Jason was still able to throw you against a wall and reach for his own gun.

“Don’t make me do this, baby.” Jason looked genuinely sorry and something in your heart wavered for a moment. 

“I’m sorry,” you said quietly. 

Jason stared at you for a moment before swearing and putting his gun down. Blood was slowly seeping from his wound and as much as he had tried not to maim you, there were a few cuts and bruises present on your own body. 

“Who do you work for?” He asked after a moment, walking up to your body crumpled on the floor. 

“If I tell you, I’ll have to kill you,” you attempted a joke but the ringing in your head made it sound weak.

“Yeah, you made that much clear,” Jason said while looking at you fondly. You were silent until he repeated the question again, this time with more urgency. 

“An underground spy organization focused on the collection and redistribution of government intel. I’m sort of the cleanup department.”

Jason nodded at you to continue.

“That drug op the other night, Fray had gotten involved with a rival agency and I was called in to take her out. That was until you and your freakish friends showed up– I guess I should say freakish family. Anyways, you fucked up my mission and I was redirected to kill you. And now that my boss knows I’m married to Red Hood, either you die or I do.”

“Your boss knows my identity?” 

“Mhm,” you glanced at the red helmet a few feet away. He hadn’t ever bothered to put it on, you two were way past disguises. “So if I don’t kill you, she will and then she’ll kill me.”

“Baby, we can handle her, but you gotta work with me,” Jason pleaded.

“What do you mean…?” you asked apprehensively.

“My wife’s in danger, I’m not just going to let her die.” He rolled his eyes teasingly.

You stared at him in disbelief. “Jason, just a day ago you were trying to kill me yourself.”

“Well, things change,” he laughed nervously. “I still love you, that never stopped, it was just…self defense?”

“Oh, bullshit,” you smiled.

“Okay, maybe it was a bit intentional but I was never going to really kill you!” 

Looking at Jason, you realized that he was telling the truth. Red Hood was an expert marksman, you’d seen enough clips of him online to know he never missed. Yet conveniently, every shot your spouse had fired at you had missed you by inches. And in truth, some subconscious part of you wasn’t going for the kill either. You and Jason may not have had the most passionate of relationships, especially in recent years, but you did love him. 

You looked up at Jason through clouded eyes. He had always been painstakingly beautiful, with gorgeous, soft, curly hair and eyes that seemed to change between blue and green in the sun. Jason knelt down and pulled you slightly to the left, just out of range of the security cameras that littered the mansion halls. You didn’t think much of the gesture and neither did his family watching from the cave below, but Jason was a private man. He cradled your face gently in his calloused hands, stroking your cheek softly with his thumb before leaning in and kissing you. It was gentle before passionate, all that fire you had lost over the years being reignited in an instant. 

When he pulled away, Jason stared into your eyes for several moments. Kissing you cheek, he whispered into your ear, “We’re going to get you out of this, I promise.” 

You knew from the look in his eye that he meant it, wholeheartedly. He kissed you again once more before the two of you made the descent to the Batcave where you would (very awkwardly) begin to devise a plan to escape your agency. You and Jason had made some sort of silent agreement that you’d most likely have to kill your boss, but you couldn’t really mention that around Batman of all people. You knew your boss wouldn’t have revealed Jason’s identity yet, not without the right price, but it wouldn’t be long before she did. Once your final mission was over, you and Jason would have to flee Gotham now that you were both on the radar of nearly every intel agency in the state. Even though the family was still slightly upset about you trying to kill their brother, they all understood how difficult it is to live a double life. Bruce had arranged for you to have your dream house in a well protected area and Dick made you both promise to visit regularly. Damian looked almost proud of you for how close you got to murdering Jason.

Five or six months later…

You were sitting in your new living room, wrapped up in Jason’s arms as you watched the snow fall outside your window. You had asked Jason if he was going to miss Gotham and being a vigilante, and to your surprise he had said he wouldn’t. Jason had been fighting all his life, hopping from one kill to the next with so much blood on his hands he swore they stained his life red. But he was tired, and so were you. 

Every now and then, you’d see him flinch at the sound of knocking or stare too intently at a knife while chopping vegetables. And he’d notice how you constantly surveyed your surroundings in public and the way you’d look for an underlying motive in every compliment told to you. But Jason loved you through all of it, as you did him. He loved the way you’d rant about the inaccuracies of spy movies the same way he’d criticize action blockbusters. He loved how you were as tough as you were gentle, able to adapt to whatever he needed. But most of all, he loved how you understood him without him needing to explain himself. You never pressed for him to speak because you already knew what he was thinking. When he’d wake up at night in a cold sweat, you’d already be there next to him with a glass of water and a soft look knowing that you’d awoken an hour before from your own ghosts. 

Your new life wasn’t perfect, you were two tormented souls who had found refuge in each other. Jason had left Gotham behind and even though you were used to relocation, you had grown fond of the city. You had ditched your last names as well, renewing your vows and settling in under a new name. 

Mr. & Mrs. Smith.

dc masterlist

coming this weekend - taglist open jason todd x spy!reader

"Honey?” Jason called out, bringing a hand to the gun on his hip. “Where are you at, sweetheart?”

For several moments, there was nothing but silence. Just as Jason was about to enter your bedroom, the smell of gasoline stopped him. Turning around, he met your eyes.

“Hey, baby,” you smiled, gun pointed at the crease in his brow. “Whatcha doing home so early?”

“Could ask you the same thing,” Jason said slowly, pulling his own weapon from its holster. “You wanna put that down, doll, or are we gonna have a problem here?”

“Nothing but a little domestic dispute,” you muttered before firing two shots at your husband. 

Jason ducked behind the counter, cocking his gun and taking a shot at the window next to you. You turned and ran for the front door, only to fall when he grabbed your ankle to stop you. You kicked him harshly in the head, grabbing a shard of glass and lodging it into the hand wrapped around your leg.

“FUCK!” he yelled, releasing his grip. “Sweetheart, let’s just talk about this!”

“What’s there to talk about, you psycho!” you shouted back, grabbing a lighter from the counter and continuing your sprint to the front door. You reached to turn the handle only to be stopped by a bullet piercing through the wooden frame.

“I can’t let you go, doll, you know that.” Jason approached you, gun still aimed at your head. “So what are you, CIA? FBI? Private investigation?”

Sliding a hand to the lighter in your pocket, you answered him with a smile. “I don’t work for the government, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you trying to kill me, sweetheart?” 

“Oh it’s nothing personal, baby,” you said sincerely. “Just following orders.”

You threw the lighter on the ground, sparking the gasoline trail you had left before Jason arrived home. While your kitchen went up in flames, you took your chance to slip out the front door and make a dash for your car, ignoring the gun shots behind you.

𝟎𝟎𝟔 - 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐮𝐳𝐮𝐤𝐚

dickgrayson ♫ can't stop - red hot chili peppers

liked by yourusername, st4rfire, mercedesamgf1 and 15,028,485 others dickgrayson suzuka isnt ready for us 😈 ╰┈> tagged: yourusername

view comments below

user1 DYNAMIC DUO YAY NIGHTCAT

yourusername sniped on the main is CRAZY ╰┈> dickgrayson u cant even see our faces 🙄 ╰┈> yourusername and what a blessing it is to not have to see urs ╰┈> dickgrayson WHY R U SO MEAN TO ME ╰┈> yourusername ur name is literally dick?? the jokes write themselves

user2 good luck!!

user3 theyre so cute!! literally my parents ╰┈> user4 they arent dating?? ╰┈> user3 oh cmon u rly think nothing is going on?? ╰┈> user4 newsflash! women are in f1 to race, not find a bf

mercedesf1amg 💪💪💪

user5 AT THE SAME DAMN TIME!!

your story

story replies

dickgrayson acting as if u werent snoring the whole time ╰┈> you WOAH WHY SO VIOLENT ╰┈> dickgrayson keeping the WHOLE cabin awake bro

zatanna_z so r we going drifting or what cuz im in tokyo for a show rn... ╰┈> you idk if i can :/ my weekend is packed and technically im not supposed to do that anymore ╰┈> zatanna_z when have u ever done what ur supposed to?? pleaseeee u need some fun in between all this serious stuff ╰┈> you i'll see what i can do ╰┈> zatanna_z yay!!!!

selinakyle good luck this weekend ╰┈> you thanks 😽 ╰┈> you btw...u wouldnt just so happen to be planning on going drifting in tokyo this weekend right... ╰┈> selinakyle i wont snitch ╰┈> you YAY THANK U

14:02 ── Suzuka Circuit, Japan The start to the Japanese Grand Prix weekend had been less than ideal for Jason. Free practice hadn't been great. He was distracted, hesitant, slow.

Jason had a complicated relationship with Suzuka. It was a new thing, only starting last year when he was fighting Dick for the Formula 1 World Driver's Championship. Jason was looking at his third championship title, having won the last two seasons consecutively. Dick was fighting to take that title back from him and eventually did go on to win his fourth WDC that season. It was raining hard and droplets of water covered Jason's visor, impairing his vision. Under different circumstances, he would've just accepted P2 and laid off of Dick, it wasn't worth the risk that comes with racing hard in the rain.

But Jason was driving angry.

That morning, he had gotten into an argument with his childhood mentor and father figure, Bruce Wayne. Bruce owned a karting team, meaning he knew a lot of the kids who eventually made it to F1. The billionaire had taken an interest in Jason years ago and decided to sponsor him, paying for every expense on his road to F1. But when Jason finally made it to the league, he hadn't expected to be forgotten so easily for one person.

Dick Grayson: the golden boy.

Jason had raced him before in the junior leagues, but Dick had made it to F1 two years before him. He knew Dick was close with Bruce, he was the first kid Bruce took under his wing and mentored, but he didn't expect the blatant favoritism. Bruce had tried to mentor both kids, he really had, but at the time he was still driving for Mercedes and Dick was his teammate. Jason could understand it then, it was for the team win, but when he retired? Nothing changed.

In the three years since Bruce's retirement, Dick had filtered through teammates like they were nothing. Bruce was fully focused on molding Dick into the greatest driver F1 has ever seen. Jason didn't even exist to him.

The morning of the 2024 Japanese Grand Prix, Jason and Dick had been talking and joking around in the Mercedes garage. Dick was trying to devise a plan on how to get Kori to go out with him, each idea worse than the last. Babs had joined in on the fun too, helping feed Dick's delusions and coming up with even worse date ideas just to mess with him.

"You're hopeless, you know that? And Babs, for an engineer you can't devise a good strategy for shit." Jason had said dryly which made Barbara burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah, like you're so much better," she quipped.

"Everything alright over here?" a rough voice asked from behind Jason.

Turning around, he was face to face with his former mentor, Bruce Wayne.

"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" Jason said coldly.

Bruce and Jason were engaged in a mini staring contest when Dick made the idiotic decision to attempt to crack a joke.

"Jason was just telling me how hopeless I am and how Babs is a bad strategist," he drabbled.

"Was he now?" Bruce asked.

Catching Jason's glare, Dick decided to take it further, not noticing the tension between the pair. "Yep, said how I'm horrible at this...how I don't deserve this 'cause Kori is-"

But Bruce had heard enough, completely missing the part about the woman Dick was trying to win over. All he heard was Jason insulting his star prodigy before a race.

"I think you should leave, Jason." Bruce said firmly.

Jason, who had been flipping off Dick playfully, immediately snapped back to face Bruce with a confused look on his face.

"What?"

"You heard me. It's time for you to go."

"Jason was just kidding." Babs piped up, hoping to defuse the tension.

Bruce scoffed. "Kidding or not, I don't need Dick getting worked up by the competition before a race."

Competition.

Bruce had said it as if that's all the Jason was to him — competition to be snuffed out.

"Leave kid. Let's not make this a scene," Bruce continued.

"Ironic," Jason muttered as he pushed past the man, intentionally knocking his shoulder hard.

"What did you say?"

"I said it's ironic, you not wanting to make a scene when you're the one who came up to us. You must think I'm some piece of work, huh?" Jason snapped, causing a few heads to turn to them throughout the Mercedes garage. "I won't disturb you or your 'star prodigy' again."

As Dick watched Jason leave, his mind was telling him to say something, anything. He knew how much Jason had looked up to Bruce as a kid, he was his favorite driver and Jason had been so excited to work with him. Dick knew Bruce didn't mentor the other kids as much anymore, it was kind of hard to do that when each kid was on a different team, but he didn't think Jason was upset about it.

Oh, how wrong he was.

That afternoon on the race track, Jason heard Bruce's voice ringing through his ears, calling him "the competition". Well, if he wanted competition, he was going to get competition.

On the last lap of the Japanese Grand Prix, Jason had caught up to Dick and was in DRS range. His race engineer had come on the radio, warning Jason not to push, that the weather was too poor and it was dangerous, but it all felt so far away. Jason zeroed in on Dick, mashing the DRS button for a speed boost.

He was coming into the final turn of the race, his very last chance.

Desperate, Jason dove to the inside line, squeezing in where there was no existing gap, no space for his car. Dick didn't move to let him pass and Jason didn't let up. But the rain was thick and heavy, meaning the two were virtually driving blind through the haze. Jason's front tires locked up and he hydroplaned, the speed and the water rendering the track essentially frictionless. His front wing slammed under Dick's rear and Jason's Red Bull was airborne. He flipped once in the air before landing on the gravel and rolling several times, eventually slamming into the barrier at mach speed.

The 40G impact left Jason's head reeling and ringing. His vision was going in and out and he felt like his head was going to burst open. Marshals had come to pull him out of the wreck and he felt hands yanking him from under the car. Someone had a fire extinguisher as per protocol, but any fire that erupted would've been put to rest immediately by the relentless rain. Jason's car was completely demolished; the front wing had been smashed flat, his tires were rolling somewhere across the track, and the whole thing looked like a crushed soda can.

Dick was on the other side of the track, stepping out of his car that had slid rather gracefully, leaving the golden boy untouched, which only made Jason angrier. It was as if the universe was trying to stick it to him that no matter how much he tried, Jason would always end up broken from the wreck and Dick would walk out untouched.

14:01 ── Suzuka Circuit, Japan Unlike Jason, you had no quarrel with Suzuka and were on top of the world. Qualifying had gone really well for you, and you were just behind Dick in P2. You didn't know what was going on with the Red Bull driver, but Jason had been off all weekend. Yesterday, he ended up qualifying P10. As far as you could tell, Jason's car was fine, but then again you really didn't know much. It did feel nice, however, to not be staring at the back of his car on the starting grid. Instead, you were looking at clear air, nothing but open track in front of you.

As Clark was welcoming the audience to the grand prix, you looked over at Dick on your right. He waved excitedly at you and you could just tell he was smiling under his dark blue helmet. Dick pointed at you and then held a thumbs up, silently asking if you were okay. You sent him an overenthusiastic response, attempting to mock him, but the insult flew straight over his head. That was one of the things you could admire about your slightly annoying teammate — he was always optimistic.

When the fifth red light went out, you pressed forward with an expert reaction time, shuffling into order behind Dick. In the team meeting after qualifying, the strategists had informed you that racing between you and Dick was allowed, but you should avoid anything risky. Toto Wolff, your team principal, had been nervous about this because of the forcasted rain. Rain was a game changer. It made the cars more equal as no one had grip, meaning lap 1 brought a slaughterhouse. Five cars were out of the race by the start of the second lap. Rain at Suzuka meant a massacre on track, everyone knew that.

But while the rest of the grid was fighting against the rain, you were embracing it.

There had been a lot of talk on social media lately about how you would perform in your first wet race, with most everyone speculating you would crash on the formation lap. What a lot of people didn't realize, however, is that being a street racer meant you were used to driving with low grip. In fact, you were almost more comfortable in the rain.

On lap 22 out of 53, you made your pit stop to get a fresh pair of intermediate tires. It was a dangerous gamble, seeing as everyone else was on the wet tires, but you were willing to take the risk for the speed boost.

"Now this is interesting," Lois commentated as you left the pit lane and rejoined the track in P6. "For those unfamiliar with tire compounds in F1, most races you'll see the drivers on slicks, choosing between soft, medium, and hard compounds. Soft tires are the fastest, but they have low grip and wear down quickly. Hard tires are slower, but also your best bet to battle tire degradation."

"Everything is shaken up in the rain, though," Clark adds. "Drivers will be on either intermediate or wet tires depending on how wet the track is. In this weather, almost everyone is on wet tires for the extra grip, but it seems Y/N L/N has chosen to take the intermediates. This is quite a risky gamble for the rookie, seeing as this is her first wet race ever. Could this be a strategic error by the team or an intentional attempt at gaining some more speed?

"See for me," Lois cut back in, "this is an unnecessary risk the team is taking. They have their two cars P1 and 2 once Y/N makes her way back up the order — which we assume she will seeing as the cars in the front haven't pitted yet — and shouldn't be taking chances like this, they can't afford it. Putting a rookie on lower grip tires in her first wet race? I wouldn't be surprised if we see her slide off soon."

Back in the Mercedes garage, Barbara was anxiously tracking your every move. After a solid two laps on your new tires, she said "Dick just pitted, he's on wets."

"Does that make him faster? That he's on new tires?" You yelled back over the roar of the wind.

"No," Barbara replied. "You are faster. Just hang on while the other teams pit and you have a shot at the win."

"Copy."

As Babs predicted, the remaining cars in front of you eventually all made their way into the pit lane, leaving you as the race leader. You could see Dick in your mirrors, gaining on you.

"We've heard from the Mercedes garage that they are allowing their drivers to race each other today, so we could be getting some great action within the next few laps or so." Lois announced.

"Astonishingly, rookie Y/N L/N seems to be the faster of the silver arrows! Especially in those corners, where we can see Dick Grayson taking them cautiously, braking early making him lose time. L/N just keeps pulling away, maybe the intermediate tires were the move!"

"You would expect such a seasoned driver to be comfortable enough to push in the wet, but he is definitely holding back. Grayson had an unfortunate crash with Jason Todd here in Suzuka last year, but he came out relatively unscathed so I can't imagine he's being that held back by it. Todd on the other hand, you can't help but wonder if that's the reason he's down in P11 right now." Clark added.

"Clark, take a look at her technique here going into these turns." Lois stared intently at the screen, watching you take turn 2 bravely. "It almost looks like she's drifting! Most of the time, sliding like that in corners just makes you lose time, but in the wet it seems to be giving her an advantage. Oh, looks like we're getting some team radio between Grayson and his engineer."

"Am I catching her?!?" Dick yelled.

"You are three seconds behind currently," his engineer replied calmly.

"FUCK!" he exclaimed. "Did we make the wrong call on the tires? Is that it?"

"We do not believe so, no."

"The what the fuck is she doing to make her so much faster than me?!?"

Dick's engineer was quiet for a moment before saying, "She isn't following the racing line. She's drifting in the corners and taking the straights wider."

"Is there anything I can do to catch her?" Dick asked.

"Let's just focus on maintaining P2, you have Tim 1.8 behind you. Do not take any risks, play for the team."

As the radio message ended, Clark let out a laugh. "I can imagine Dick was not very happy to hear that. As the seasoned driver of the pair, you never want to hear your rookie teammate is faster than you."

"Yes, but he's a good sport. And they're right, he needs to play for the team right now. He can't afford chasing her and crashing, not with Red Bull so close in the Constructor's Championship," Lois agreed.

Ten laps later, you had millions of viewers on the edge of their seats as you crossed the line in P1, checkered flag waving behind you.

Clark's voice boomed through the speakers. "Two months ago, Y/N L/N made her Formula 1 debut in Bahrain and on her third ever race, she's beaten out her title holder teammate. She went into the season with little to no professional racing experience and even less support, but she's proven us all wrong. This is a race to remember and a historic day for the sport."

"Street racer turned rookie sensation Y/N L/N wins the Japanese Grand Prix!"

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