Rose-tinted Shadows

— rose-tinted shadows —

Warnings: fluff, tiny bit of angst, mentions of violence

Summary: You and Jason fall in love a little bit more each night.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Female Reader

Word Count: ~3.4k

A/N: Someone was talking about reader descriptions not being told beforehand so I’m just going to add in that reader has hair long enough to put up in a bun (only mentioned in the first portion). I’ve been putting off writing the last bit but now that I’m done… Enjoy!

Jason stumbled away from the window, the chilly draft seeping through the glass sent a shiver down his spine. He hastily pulled it shut behind him, the latch clicking into place with a satisfying thud. His hands, numb from the cold, fumbled with the bolt, the metal feeling icy against his skin as he secured it tightly. As he turned away from the window, the warmth of the room enveloped him, a stark contrast to the biting cold outside. His cheeks and ears tingled with the rush of blood returning, a sensation akin to pins and needles. 

With a sigh of relief, he unclasped his helmet, feeling the weight of it lift from his head, leaving his hair tousled and his forehead damp with sweat. Peering out of the window one last time, he drew the curtains closed, the fabric whispering against the glass as it obscured his view. Intent on making his way to the couch to rest before heading to bed, Jason’s movements were halted by an unexpected obstacle. His shin collided with the sharp edge of the coffee table, the pain shooting through his leg like a bolt of lightning. 

“Fuck,” he hissed, his breath hitching in his throat as he clenched his jaw against the pain. He glared down into the abyss where he assumed the table was situated. Rubbing his throbbing shin, Jason's gaze darted to the flicker of light in the kitchen. 

And there you were, standing in the warm light, your presence a welcome sight in the dimness of the room. Your expression was unreadable, a mixture of amusement and annoyance as you leaned against the counter, arms crossed over your chest.

Your hair was mussed, most of it up in a messy bun while some strands fell into your face. A few blanket lines were pressed into your skin, just on the apple of your cheek. You were still in your pajamas—a pair of sweatpants and Jason’s old band tee. 

There was nothing special about your attire nor the expression you wore. And yet, Jason’s shoulders fell loose. “Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice soft with fatigue as he offered you a weary smile. You turned your head slightly, your lips curling into a faint smile as you watched Jason hobble toward you. The fatigue in his voice mirrored the weariness in his eyes, but there was a warmth there, a familiarity that softened the lines of his face.

“Rough night, honey?” You asked, the concern evident in your tone as you pushed yourself off the counter, closing the distance between you. Jason nodded, his steps slow and deliberate as he approached you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, tilting your head up as a silent invitation for a sweet peck. He snaked his arms around your shoulders and leaned down to peck your lips—he knew he stank from the snowfall. 

You wrinkled your nose and pulled away from him. “You stink.” You pulled away completely, merely reaching out a hand. Your fingers brushed against his arm as you guided him to the nearest chair, nudging him to sit down for a few minutes. He pouted when you started to step away, hands landing on your hips and tugging you to stay put. 

“Stay for a mo’, sweetheart,” he managed to mutter out through his utter exhaustion, your presence creating an atmosphere so soothing that it was lulling him to sleep. You gave in with little to no resistance, combing your fingers through his hair and stepping close enough for him to rest his forehead against your stomach. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” you whispered, still working your gentle fingers into his scalp. You scratched his neck lightly with the tips of your nails. “How’s Roy doing?” 

“He’s fine.” Jason’s words were fast, but slurred. With each stroke, Jason felt the tension in his muscles begin to melt away. His eyes were drooping shut and he was overwhelmed with love, squeezing his arms around your waist. “Why you up, sweetheart?” 

“Came to grab some water,” you told him softly, “but then I heard you dropping into the fire escape and thought I would just wait for you.”

“In the dark?” Jason's voice was tinged with amusement, a hint of laughter bubbling up from deep within him. He could feel the vibrations from your little giggles against his cheek. He opened his eyes fully to look up at you, chin now resting where his cheek was just a second ago. Your eyes were just a bit puffy from sleep and the blanket lines were fading on your cheek, but he could tell you were tired. Jason could sense the weariness in your frame, the effort it took for you to stay on your feet and not lean your whole weight against him.

“I wasn’t going to turn them on and burn my eyes,” you remarked with a lazy eye roll. You grinned then, a twinkle in your eyes telling him that you planned on teasing him for something now. “How’s your shin?” His shoulders shook with laughter, the drowsiness disappearing for the time being as he pulled on your waist. He sat up straighter, your stomach pressing into his chest. 

He waited for your laughter to die down before he spoke. “I’m better now,” he confessed, his fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on your back as he savored the feeling of you being close. The scent of your shampoo and perfume mixing in with something entirely you. He leaned in closer to you, head tilting up to look at you. Your eyes flickered between his, seemingly flustered with the way he was looking at you. 

You pecked his lips and whispered, “You still stink.” 

It was one of those rare nights Jason was home the whole night. 

It was rare for Jason to be home at night, but even rarer for the sun to be out for an entire week in Gotham. It was known for its rain clouds and sloshy snow. Gotham was a little less dangerous in the summer when the sun stayed up longer than usual, glaring down on people’s backs harshly. The criminals seemed to decrease their daily dosage of bad and hid in the gleaming rays, wearing smiles on their faces and enjoying the few days of pure sunlight. 

Dick, being the doting older brother he was, chose to give everyone a few days off of patrol, including Bruce. Not that everyone had willingly agreed; they were either bribed or blackmailed. Dick had some pictures of little Damian snuggled up to his Batman plushie and told Tim that he would have no access to any internet if he did go on patrol. Dick had something on Bruce that he wouldn’t share with anyone—nobody really wanted to know anyway. Even Jason had to be bribed with the reminder that his time off would be spent with you. 

That was exactly what Jason did on his free nights. 

If you two weren’t cuddled up in bed, bare and vulnerable to each other, you two were nestled together on the couch. A movie or TV show would be playing in the background, forgotten as Jason left a path of kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. He would pay extra attention to the spot that made you squirm and tug his hair before kissing your lips sweetly. It was a silent promise of more. His hands would travel around your body, sometimes lifting your hands off of him and kissing your knuckles slowly. 

If you were up and going around the apartment you both shared, Jason was right behind you, eager to help you with mundane tasks. In the kitchen, his hand would land on your hip from behind you, a pat to your side before he grabbed something you couldn’t reach. Sometimes his arms would wrap around your middle, repeating the steps for a recipe. Other times, he would grab the things in your hand and start pestering you to sit down while he handled the food. 

Most of the time, it would end up with you sitting on the kitchen island while he was between your legs and trading lazy kisses. 

Tonight, you were perched up on the kitchen island, clad in Jason’s briefs and shirt with him standing between your legs. His hands were resting on your hips as he tugged you near the edge, lips drowning the small gasp you let out. Slow, languid kisses were being traded, so full of love that your head was spinning with the need of more. Or less. You didn’t know which it was with his hands starting to wander under your shirt, kneading the soft skin as he pulled away from your lips for a breather. 

“I love you,” he whispered, not waiting for your response as he kissed you lazily. His hands started on two different paths. One trailed up your spines, fingers tickling the curve of your back as the other went down towards your thigh. You let out a noise between a moan and whimper when his hand fisted some of your hair and tilted your head back gently for better access. His hand squeezed your thigh when he pulled away again, staring at you with a dopey grin on his face. 

When he kept staring, you asked, “What?” Your voice was low and husky, staring back at him with a growing shy smile. His cheeks were tinged with red and his lips were swollen, hair mused from your own wandering hands. He looked so good. 

He merely shook his head and said, “I just really, really love you.” Then he kissed you again, not again waiting for you to respond with your own declaration. You knew he knew you loved him just as much as he loved you so you kissed him back, arms wrapping around his neck and pulled him down a little. A few seconds later, he pulled away again, looking at you exactly the way he was before and fully intending to tell you how much he loved you.

“I—”

“I love you too, honey,” you cut in with a giggle at his agape mouth. You weaved your hands through his hair and tilted your head towards him, lips just mere inches away. “I am absolutely, completely, and insanely in love with you, Jason Todd.”

He grinned, kissed you hard, and then said, “I am deadly in love with you, Y/N Y/S.” 

Jason gracefully landed on his feet, tugging the window close behind him. He didn’t bother checking for any tailing and closed the curtains. A smile tugged at his lips when he caught your face lit under the only source of light in the living room. You were snuggled up in the armchair with a blanket or two piled on your curled up knees, a book leaning against your legs and open with your fingers. The lamp next to you flickered slightly, the bulb ready to be replaced. As were the others in the apartment. 

You looked up after a moment, eyes falling from his head to his shoes slowly. “You okay?” You asked quietly, a slight croak to your vowels that told him you hadn’t spoken since he left. He nodded slowly, hands coming up to click the little button under his helmet to remove it from his head. He didn’t bother fixing his hair. He smiled sadly at you and removed his shoes on the little mat that you had placed under the window after a particularly muddy mess he had made in the house. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he mumbled, making his way to you timidly. His mind was still reeling from the fight you both had before he left, a hole building up in his chest that he wouldn’t be able to fill until he was sure you were still here with him. 

You let out a small sigh and extended a hand for him to latch on to with his gloved hands. Your other hand placed the book upside down under the lamp. Your eyes flickered down to his glove, brows slightly pinched as you started removing it. The sound of velcro being pulled apart filled the void for a few seconds as you moved from one hand to another, still not meeting his eyes. He shifted his weight unconsciously and waited for your eyes to meet his again. Then, when his gloves had been pulled apart, you tugged on his hands. 

He felt your resolve crumble slightly when you looked up at him and whispered, “Sit with me, please.” You moved up a little, your other hand holding up the blankets for him to get under. He moved as fast and gently as he could, yearning for your body warmth against his. His leathers were uncomfortable and one of his guns stabbed into his thigh, but he wouldn’t complain about it. He wouldn’t complain about a gun shot if you were asking him to sit with you. He wouldn’t even feel it. 

“I’m sorry,” he repeated in a murmur, enclosing his arms around your form. You shifted to sit across his lap, adjusting the blankets around you. He was sweating under his layered leathers, but he shivered when your hand ghosted his neck. You undid his leather jacket and pushed it down his shoulders. He obliged and threw to the couch without taking his eyes off of you, his white tank top cladding his form. You pressed your hand against his chest, right over where his heart was beating for you. 

“I just want you to be careful,” you whispered. You tapped his chest twice with the tips of your fingers, looking up at him with your glossy orbs. “I need you to be careful.” Your vowels cracked at the edges a little, bottom lip a little wobbly. 

His heart seemed to break at the confession, willing it to piece itself back together, but he could hear it beating in the deafening silence. He leaned his head down, forehead pressing into yours with a silent promise to do better. To be better for you. 

“I will,” he said instead of all the other things he had said to you while leaving. At the time of his departure, it felt like too much. Like you were doubting his skills and wit to stay alive. He knew his nighttime activities were dangerous and just as hard for you as they were for him. He grabbed your hand when you went to move it from his chest to keep it there. “You’re the reason I want to be careful, sweetheart.” 

You took a breath. “I know.” You nodded and let your eyes trail to his forearms. “You should change. Maybe take a quick shower, too. You stink. Definitely change.”

He had forgotten all about the uncomfortable leathers and the gun that was stabbing into him as he held you. His mind was already spitting out ways he could make it up to you. Even if he had apologized and you had forgiven him, he couldn’t get the image of your eyes filled with tears out of his head. He could definitely start with holding your hand and letting you tug him to the bathroom. 

Jason quietly landed on the mat, wiping his muddy shoes and toeing them off carefully. His eyes flickered around the silent apartment, heart clenching as he looked back outside for any goons that might have followed him. He did a few sweeps of the alleyway and hoped that there was no one lurking in the shadows that was hell bent on finding Red Hood. He sighed softly as he did one last sweep for the goons that he had encountered on his way here. No one was there, he told himself as he locked the window and closed the curtains shut. 

He turned away from the window and made his way through the living room to the kitchen, his dry throat cursing at him for not taking a sip of Dick’s water when he had offered. He grabbed a glass and filled it blindly, chugging it down and taking another glass full. He moved over and opened the fridge. The refrigerator’s light made him squint as he ducked down to see if there were any leftovers from dinner. He moved a few things around and grabbed a box of sushi that you had probably ordered. 

As he sat down at the kitchen island to eat he heard a muffled groan from your shared bedroom. His eyes flickered up, resting steadily on the door to the right in the short hallway. He held his breath and waited for any other sounds or movement. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he had hoped that maybe you had woken up. 

It was a rough night and all he really wanted to do was hold you—or let you hold him. It usually started off with his arms wrapped around your waist and holding you to his chest, laying you on top of him slowly but surely. Sometimes, he tugged you a bit quickly if you were awake. After a while, your body would start drooping over his side and onto the bed. Then you would tug him over to rest his body over yours, moving his head to your chest to listen to your heart. Your nails would scratch at his head and one finger would trail on his spine. 

But there were no other noises arising from your bedroom. It made him deflate slightly, sighing as he munched into a piece of sushi bitterly. It was selfish to want you awake just to comfort him. He knew he should be glad that you were getting your sleep, working irregular shifts at your job because one of your coworkers, a good friend of yours, had a baby. But he still felt the desire to wake you with his selfishness and want of comfort. He finished his sushi with a few more bites, now eager to see you. 

He threw away the empty box, eyes now adjusted to the dark. He made his way to the hallway bathroom, not wanting to bother you with the light or the noise of the shower. It made too much noise nowadays. You wanted him to take a look at it after you couldn’t find anything, but he had been putting it off for days. He took the quickest shower he could, trying to get most of the dirt out of his hair. He looked at his reflection, wincing at the purple bruise blooming on his cheekbone rapidly. There was no point in icing it now; it would do nothing. 

He entered your shared bedroom, only to realize that you were awake. Reading his first edition of Pride & Prejudice under the lowest setting of your bedside lamp and cuddled up under the blankets. Your eyes merely flickered up to him for a moment before darting back to the book. He wanted to scoff. He wanted to laugh. He wanted to do everything to grab your attention. He wondered if you had noticed his bruise or not. Probably not. You usually fretted over him, even for the smallest cut that appeared on him. 

“Sweetheart?” He looked at you carefully, wondering if he had accidentally done something he shouldn’t have for your silent treatment. You hummed before he could think a bit further. “I thought you would be asleep.” 

You stretched, closing the book and looking at him properly. “Couldn’t sleep without you.” You looked at him with tired eyes, now taking in his bruise. You beckoned him over with your head. He slipped under the covers towards you, letting you cup his cheeks. A sigh escaped his lips at the slightest stroke of your thumb over his bruise. Your touch was a much better remedy than ice or painkillers. 

“Did you ice it?” From the way you had asked him, he was sure that you knew he hadn’t. He shook his head ever so slightly, not wanting your hands to move from his face as he stared at your face. His eyes drank in every little feature, the curve of your nose, the little smile lines against your eyes. Every little feature. 

“Missed you,” he mumbled, eyes growing heavy with sleep in your presence. You smiled softly and repeated the words back to him with a peck on his lips. Jason knew when he slept tonight, he wouldn’t have to deal with dark shadows painting his dreams. Instead he would smile slightly as he held you close with rose-tinted shadows grazing his eyes.

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"

Masterlist 12

It's been a while (4 years to be exact) since i have done a masterlist but I wanted to do one. Here is the link to the other ones. My organization for each post is random. Also some didn't have names so i just did a short name (sorry in advance). There isn't a specifc order to them and these are just some i liked from the last year-ish.

As a reminder, make sure to follow these blogs :)

Series "Birds of a Feather" (part 1) (part 2) by @zyhkoo "Guard Dog" (part 1) (part 2) by @mostly-imagines "Shower Surprise" (part 1) (part 2) (part 3) by @twilight-orchid "Learning to Love Slowly" by @to-the-stars8 (honestly one of my favorites 10/10 recommend)

Jealous/Protective Jason (love me this category) "Don't Tell Jason" by @siddyyyyyyyy "Who are your boyfriend" by @prongsx

Fluff "Moonstruck" by @mostly-imagines "Favors in exchange for kisses" by @prongsx "Scenes from an afternoon odyssey" by @mostly-imagines "MIA" by @indulgentdaydream "Hungry?" by @montagoves "How He Shows He Loves You" by @mistymisfit "Amnesia and Flustered Jason" by @sanguineterrain "Eat Your Heart Patrick Swayze" by @kitkatscabinet "Physical Touch" by @luv4jason "Bluetooth j.t" by @cipheress-to-k-pop "Falling Asleep for the 1st time" by @patchiko "Hiding Nightmares" by @stararch4ngelqueen "Perfect Match" by @msfantasy-comics "SFW Fluff Alphabet" by @kimberly-spirits13 "Late Night Bouquet" by @killxz "We Got Love" by @makethatelevenrings "For the hell of it" by @lambsouvlaki "As long as you're with me" by @maivolpe "Shelter in the Rain"

Angst/Angst-ish "Don't Go Disappearing on Me" by @rambling-at-midnight "So This is Love" by @mostly-imagines "Not hot enough" by @writeriguess "Kidnapped" by @sanguineterrain "Where Are You" by @millyhelp "Ghosts of Gotham" by @sexsylexi "Domestic Betrayal" by @yourlocalcringydaydreamer "The Arkham Knight" by @mostly-imagines "Never Let Me Go" by @froggibus "Misunderstandings" by @sanguineterrain "Broken Heart of Gold" by @jasntodds "Be with You" by @chaotic-birds "Text me when you get home" by @sanguineterrain "Puzzle Pieces" by @makethatelevenrings "O Me! O Life" by @makethatelevenrings

NSFW "Jason Birthday fic" by @spidernuggets "Trying to get s/o's attention" by @gay-dorito-dust "First Time" by @igotanidea "Doesn't Always Have to be So Black and White" by @hanasnx "Lazy Morning" by @k2ntoss "Soft" by @stararch4ngelqueen "Don't make me cover your mouth" by @patheticbabie "Shower's on" by @icameheretoreadstuff "For the Hell of it" by @lambsouvlaki "NSWF Alphabet" by @sunlight-wing

Random Headcannons

Ahem, now that the event is over, here are some of my personal Jason Todd headcannons for your consideration:

He's always going to be taller than you. Doesn't matter if you're 5'2" or 6'0". He's simply taller than you, and he's buying boots with 4" platforms to really seal the deal

Jason loves any nickname you call him. Call him Jay, Jace, or any pet name and term of endearment. It'll make his heart skip a beat, and his eyes go starry. His name never sounds so pretty than when it's falling from your lips

Serial Hand Kisser. He's kissing your knuckles, your fingertips, the back of your hand, your palm, your wrist. He doesn't even need an excuse or reason to do it. He'll just be sitting on the couch reading, and your palm is pressed to his mouth the entire time.

Drags you out into the rain with him to dance. Yes, you introduced him to the joy of spinning under the cloudy skies, but he's the one who pulls you out from under cover every time it starts to drizzle.

This happens even if you're in your apartment, when the storm starts. You have a fire escape and a roof for a reason, and you're going to use it

He has a bit of sweet tooth, and it's entirely Alfreds fault. Even if you dont like sweets, he's going to convert you. Jason will find the recipe that changes your mind to at least enjoying his baking

You'll have to actively convince him to let you backpack on his motorcycle. Bikes can be dangerous, no matter how safe he is, other drivers won't always be

If you manage to convince him, you're going to wear all the protective gear, and he's taking you onto back roads outside of Gotham to practice leaning into turns safely before he drives you anywhere near the city streets

Will fully lay on top of you when you start sharing a bed. He's a cuddler, and that's not a crime. (Sure, he won't do it every night, he likes it when you sleep on his chest, too. But he will smother sleep on you)

Jason has a bad habit of stealing your things, nothing you’d miss terribly but little things that remind him of you.

A hair tie, a note with random rambling in your hand writing, a silly keychain, a pen, your lip gloss

Just so he can have little reminders of you whenever he’s away or on a boring patrol.

oh yeah he does—what a good fucking thought nonnie !!

he’d never take anything too personal if he’s going on patrol, just trinkets. things he could have picked up anywhere. the chapstick you just bought because you lost your old one, (jason has that one too, oops) or an old subway card you kissed excess lipstick on. little things.

if he’s out as a civilian, he has a mini caricature of you that you insisted on at the pier. it’s dramatic and not exactly you—but the eyes are perfect. and he likes to stare at those.

A Day in Life

Synopsis: A day in the life of Jason Todd. Also, he's a househusband now. Oh, and a little plot twist.

Pairing: Househusband!Jason Todd X Gn!Reader; Platonic!Batfam

Tw: Canon level angst for Jason; Some sexual innuendos; Writer apparently doesn't know how to finish a story anymore; This is pretty slice-of-life so maybe boring?; English is not my first language.

Word count: 3,8k

Requested? No.

General masterlist | A Day in Life - Series masterlist

Wake up, make out, get up. First steps of your everyday routine. Sometimes making out turns into something more, but not today.

From his past life, as Robin, Jason learned a lot about discipline. As much as he tried to forget everything and everyone from his past before you, some habits die hard, although with time, with you and with therapy, he accepted that not all of his experience was bad or should be thrown away just because of one sociopathic clown who hurt him. Yes, Jason died, came back angry and did a lot of shit. But he was still alive and this could be a second chance.

While you, his darling spouse, get ready for work, Jason gets up, puts on his apron, fills the dog bowl for Daphne — your little brown dachshund that you adopted together four months after getting married —, opens the doors to the garden, so the dog can do whatever, and finally starts making breakfast and lunch. Breakfast so you two can eat together and lunch for you to eat at work. Sometimes you both meet up and eat together at your office or a restaurant. Today, that's not the case.

Simple yogurt with fresh fruits and nuts, coupled with a slice of chocolate cake he baked the day prior, eggs, toast and coffee for breakfast. As for your lunch box, a natural sandwich, salad, fruits and juice. He also fills up your two liter water bottle, so you feel pressured have no excuse but to stay hydrated.

Food. Until he was 12 his relationship with food was complicated, to stay the least. At first, his beloved but troubled mom would be in no condition to cook him three or more nice and fulfilling meals a day for a growing boy, he either had to learn and make do with quick instant food, eggs and old bread, or starve, since money was something he only saw when it was being handled to her drug dealer. His father was even worse. Jason loved his mom. Still suffers for her. He hated his father who was the one making her addiction worse. He’s still happy he died.

Living on the streets, food was a dream. A bad dream. It either came from trash or he had to do things that made him feel humiliated and guilty just to get some. And it was gone in a flash, he was so hungry he devoured it all in a second, and then his belly hurt.

Then he came. Jason loved his new father. Loved his new grandfather. Loved their food. So healthy, abundant and full of taste. So fun to prepare. He learned a lot from Alfred because he loved to spend time with him, play with the ingredients and make everyone and himself happy with the results.

But then he had those memories wiped out of his mind, (un)fortunately they came back, but at that time food was in the back of his mind. Sure, he didn't have to worry about starving, crime paid more than enough for that, but he didn't put much thought into any of it.

Now, with you, he's making new memories with food. He cooked and baked a lot with you and for you throughout all your relationship, and you did the same for him. He loves his kitchen, just like the rest of your house. The pantry and fridge are always full thanks to you. You take good care of him. You make his trust in you be worth it. And he reciprocates it. Healthy and nice food that brings comfort and makes you roll your eyes. Especially after he started frequenting cooking classes as a hobby, again, thanks to you.

After you are gone with a full belly and a pet in the ass (just like him, honestly), he continues his routine. He changes clothes and goes to the gym. Jason never stopped exercising, but the lack of all the activity vigilantism entails and with all the treats you two have, he started getting more soft. You loved it, he hated it. — Okay he didn't hate it, he just wasn't the most happy with it. Roy thought it was kinda funny, until Jason pointed out he also got softer after Lian. You honestly couldn't see why all that softness they were talking about was so bad since they were still very muscular and defined, just less dry and more snuggly. You honestly thought your Jaybird could go even further. — So the addiction of yoga to his routine happened.

After that, he goes straight home, eats, showers, takes care of his appearance to keep looking like a proper hubby that you can shove on your bitter frenemies faces, and makes sure to keep the maintenance of the house, so you can come back tired from work and enjoy a perfect house to rest on.

Hygiene. Another things that was complicated with his biological family. His father wouldn't touch a single plate or broom, and would beat and scream at his mom if she didn't put her high (again, because of him) ass up and did the labor. Most often than not, their house was messy, had a bad smell that his little nose was so used to that it's not like he minded, and had insects around. His clothes were dirty hand-me-downs, some fit him, some didn't, a lot of them had holes. His hair tangled and itchy.

When he went to the streets, it just got worse.

Bruce and Alfred fixed that. He finally learned what stink was because he only knew good and neutral scents. His clothes fit him. Everything around him was clean and well-kept. No holes, no stains. Hair always trimmed, soft and clean. Well maintained.

When he came back, cleanliness was basic. Of course he is gonna keep everything around him clean. Habit and common sense, you know? Clothes his size because why the hell would he use hand-me-downs when he can just buy his own? And they had to be the right size for his new 6’2 and almost 200 lbs body. Hair? Whatever. Always washed but as long as it didn't look ridiculous he didn't have time to put much thought on his appearance. He was genuinely surprised you were attracted to him at first sight.

Being with you, he learned to enjoy the little things in life again. Sometimes he finds himself unmoving in front of a random room of the house, or in front of the mirror, trying to grasp if it's all real, If this is really his life, if that's how he looks. His mind flashes memories of his childhood home and his current home. He ignores the memories of the manor not only because of the betrayal he felt for Bruce, but also because the manor was from the Wayne's. He was a Wayne. He is not anymore. This is him. His new house, with you, is what he wished he had growing up. What he always dreamed of. Love. Company. And comfort. He felt all of that while being a Wayne, until he despised the Wayne's. Not the couple that died decades ago or the centuries old descendants. But his father and his siblings.

On days where he doesn't take care of the house, he practices his hobbies. He now has time to do it all, surprising you, his therapist, Roy, and himself, he did cooking, gardening, pottery, crocheting and of course, reading. You paid for all his classes, praised him on his achievements, added his creations to the decor of the house, accompanied him on any event or place related to his interests, gave him his own library in one of the rooms in the house. He even made some friends between middle-aged women and the only other househusband and stay-a-home dad that frequented those places.

It was very funny and cute seeing rough, huge, leather jacket wearing and scarred Jason Todd telling jokes to 50-year-old white moms/grandmas and sometimes even babysitting their kids, pets and plants. You knew he could be a good dad one day if you decided to have kids. He was also more than happy to have just you, Daphne and good friends. And plants.

Warmth. When he was a kid his parents broke the heater during a fight, he wondered if they didn't have money to fix it, even with his father's activities, or if his father just refused to fix it. Anyhow, it was always cold in Gotham, freezing on winter, his dirty clothes with holes didn't help much. The streets didn't seem much different in that aspect. The manor kept him warm when he wasn't seven feet under the dirt, in a casket. When he came back, Jason always wore the warmest of clothes, even while sweating, he didn't know why. Now he did. Your house is always warm. Your body is always warm. Comfort. Your love gave him comfort. Warmth. A reason to live.

Love. His mom. Bruce and Alfred. You.

After he was done and rested for a little, Jason took Daphne for a walk in the way to the grocery shop. He wanted to try a new receipt you saw on tiktok today for dinner and had to get more flour and something for the filling.

After a few minutes of walking on his perfectly nice looking and safe neighborhood — nothing like crime alley. The type of neighborhood he saw on the television and imagined those other happy kids his age living and envied them. Dreamed of being adopted into one of their families while jumping from orphanage to orphanage. It never happened. He just got more abused. And then the manor was so isolated that you could only see mansions and plants all around. So big and far away that they looked empty of life. — he got there and strapped the dog to a post, next to a smiley golden retriever.

He got in and- fuck it, I'm going home. The empanadas can wait another day.

— Jason? Oh my god. Jason! Is that you?! — The infuriatingly familiar loud voice calls out from the middle of the shop and all heads turn to look. Shit, he can't go now without embarrassing himself in front of the cashier of his favorite and most visited shop. So he just nods, takes a basket and walks as if there was nothing interesting happening. It worked with the others costumers, unfortunately, Dick thought it was way too interesting and forgot his own basket that only contained eggs and cereal, and started following him around, this time, with a less surprised tone.

— Hey, Dick. — Jason idly muttered, that just made his coff coff brother indignant.

— Hey, Dick?! What the hell? Where were you? It's been three years! We thought you were dead! Or kidnapped! We never stopped looking for you! We were worried! We mourned! What happened? — Was it bad that Jason didn't want to give him a real answer? Probably. Especially with how much his therapist, who he saw on the days he didn't go to the gym, told him he should try to mend things with his family. So much so that he started actually contemplating it recently. But if he did it, it was going to be on his own time. Not by bumping into them in the grocery store. Oh, well. Jason was always good at adapting. The best.

And wow, three years had passed? Makes sense. Recovery does take time and he's been really happy for a while. Jason still remembers the day he decided to quit everything. It was the same day he decided you were the one, truthfully he always knew you were marriage material, the perfect one for him, out of his league, straight out of his most amazing dreams, peak goal for him, but he wasn't sure if he deserved to be the one you should be stuck with forever. He desperately wanted to, but he had to commit. Ride or die. He loved you, now more than ever, and didn't want to waste your time. He was still a bit messy at the time, but you made it all better, he was a lot better than he was before you came into the picture. You were the right choice. Jason always took you seriously, he was just insecure. So, while still in around eight months of relationship, he quit everything.

He quit his family. He quit vigilantism. He searched for recovery. And a year and a half later, with a little more than two years of dating, he made the big proposal. You married on your three-year anniversary. Got Daphne four months later. It's been around three or four months ever since.

While Dick’s math might not be exact, it is not necessary in this context, the point came across just fine.

He also knew that the fact that you both decided to not leave Gotham was going to bite him in the ass one day. One way or another.

— What happened? Oh, well. I retired. Got married. And now I'm a dad. — Daphne was like a daughter to him, so it was the same, right?

His nonchalant reply didn't seem to satisfy the other, though. Todd could see it, the urge to strangle him in his eyes. Dick wouldn't strangle his dead missing little brother, would he?

— You… You what? — Dick was in disbelief.

— You guys searched for me? Thanks, I guess? It means a lot. — Jason just sniffed and went on his way, leaving Grayson behind, paralyzed.

Maybe he could be fast enough and get out of there before the older one got a grasp of his senses back and followed him out. Part of him felt hope, the other heard yours and his therapist voices in his head, and the nagging was annoying. Maybe he never stopped being a “grump”, like you always amusedly said.

Oh, no. Here he comes again. Jason suppresses an eye-roll.

— Stop. Can you really explain? — The mix of emotions was almost overwhelming, an urge to cry, punch a wall, punch Jason's face, scream and who knows what more was running through Dick's body.

Jason sighed and finally addressed him completely. Tone lower so no one could hear.

— Okay. I met someone… Someone good. Someone special. A civilian. I was tired of everything. So I decided to retire and made sure none of you could find me. I'm surprised Roy and Lian kept the secret from you, though. Anyway. Now I'm a stay-at-home hubby, have a dog and go to therapy. You happy? — A beat of silence. — Hey, don't make that face… I was going to tell you guys eventually… When I felt like it… It's not like you guys saw me a lot. How much time did it take for you all to miss me? I made an appearance once in a while when someone asked for help and that's it. Alfred knew everything so if you’re gonna be mad at anyone, be at him too, not just me… And Roy. Don't forget Roy.

— A-Are you kidding me? Oh, yes, blame the butler! You couldn't even tell us? Like “hey guys, I'm gonna retire and take some time for myself for a while. Also, come to my wedding!” I wanted to be invited, you know?! Why didn't you invite me? Did you at least invite Alfred? Did- — Jason rolled his eyes and cut his rant.

— Yes, Alfred was there. Front row and everything. — Dick shrieked.

— T-That’s not the point! — His voice raised slightly from exasperation and both of them checked around for anyone's attention, then came back to the conversation.

Jason raised a hand to interrupt him and took a deep breath.

— Look. I wasn't in a nice place at the time, okay? I'm better now… And I was going to talk to you guys sooner rather than later… — Jason let a moment of vulnerability shine, hoping that would melt his brother's heart and fix things. It did. — We will have a second wedding when we renovate our vows in our 5th anniversary. You can be there… Everyone can be there. — Jason cleared his throat to interrupt the other again. — But now I have to get home in time to make dinner for my honeyboo, so why don't we… Stay in contact and… One of those days everyone can have dinner together and catch up, huh?

Dick took one of the deepest breaths of his whole life. Jason pursed his lips.

— Okay… — He stuck a finger in his face roughly. — But don't disappear again. Or else I promise I’m gonna personally make everyone track you down, understood? — Jason snorted. As if Tim and Bruce wouldn't do it already once they knew everything. As if Bruce didn't secretly keep track of him this whole time. Unless… Unless everyone changed and he didn't know his… His family anymore.

Why did it make him feel weird?

— Yes, boss. — Jason saluted him and left.

— Relax… — You elongated the word. — Nothing bad it's gonna happen… — You went behind Jason and tried rubbing his broad shoulders to chase the tenseness away. The sight and feel of his muscles almost made you drool, and you blinked to focus again.

— How do you know? — You pursed your lips and went to his side to try to make him take his eyes off of cleaning the countertop for the 4th time due to anxiety.

— Because they love you. And they care about you. And they miss you. — Jason deadpanned you. — Just give it a chance. If anything goes wrong, we will just kick them out and you never have to talk to them, ever again. We can even move if you want. Or go on a vacation to the same place we had our honeymoon, I can wear that skimpy piece you like… Spoil you rotten… — Your voice lowered seductively and you pressed your body to his side, running your hand up and down his arms with some pressure.

Jason’s mind went blank and he was speechless for a few seconds. Your eyebrows raised with a small, convincing smile that made all his worries go away. He sighed.

— Okay… Okay, you’re right… — He leaned down and sneaked an arm around your waist. You both shared a slow and wet kiss, bordering between sensual and calming. Unfortunately, he had to wait a few hours before having some action. He pulled his face away a few centimeters, looking you in the eyes. — I thought I had ripped that thing. — You blinked.

— You just might have. But I bought another one because I looked too good on it not to wear it again. — You shared a chuckle when the doorbell rang. You both looked at the door, then at each other. — Want me to get it? — You ran a hand through his hair, trying to calm the last of his nerves. Jason swallowed.

— No. Have to get it over with. — He took a deep breath and then let out. Pulling away from your embrace. — Put the juice on the table for me, please? — You hummed and nodded.

Without giving a second thought, he walked in long strides and abruptly opened the door.

It was like that scene in Avengers: End Game when on one side there was just Captain America against the whole Thanos's army, just staring at each other.

— Are you wearing an apron? — Damian snarked with an eyebrow raised. Jason looked down. Yes, he was. Good start.

— Take your shoes off, there’s other shoes for you all there. And here I was having hope that at fifteen you wouldn't be a demon anymore. — Jason said sarcastically and gave them space to enter.

As soon as they got in the neighborhood they were all already skeptical. If you were the only one working, how much do you earn to live in such a nice area and with this nice house? They could even see a pool in the backyard and there were TWO expensive cars in the driveway. Jason said he quit all of the crime lord thing, did he keep the savings? Did he invest?

The little dog came running and barking, taking their attention away from the house and their shoes, Damian immediately crouched to pet her. Jason let a side of his lips go up. At least that hasn't changed.

— Her name is Daphne. — Jason spoke over the cooing of Duke and Cass at the dog. He locked eyes with Bruce who had an unreadable expression on his face. He looked older, Jason didn't know how to feel about that. Then gazed at Dick, who had a shit eating grin, Alfred, whose satisfied smile warmed his heart, and Tim, who was analyzing the space while changing shoes.

— Nice place. So, what does your partner do? — Are they committing fraud? — You appeared from the corner and replied for him.

— I direct the Queen Industries’s Gotham’s office. — You answered softly with a polite smile, stopping besides Jason, who wrapped an arm around you. Everyone's gaze turning on you made you feel shy, but you held on with confidence.

— Oh, wow, so Jason really is a malewife. — Your eyes widened in surprised and you couldn't hold back a laugh. Jason let a small smile graze his lips, coaxing the easiness out of him.

— I offered to pay cleaning and cooking service, but he wanted to do things himself. — You say, a little afraid they would get angry at you for “slavering” their Jason.

— Did you buy those cars outside? — Wow, Tim really was as skeptical as Jason had said.

— Hmhmm. — You nodded simply, as if it was nothing.

Jason's siblings raised their eyebrows and Bruce cleared his throat, and took a step forward, feet clad in fluffy slippers. He offered a hand and presented himself politely to you. You wondered how much of that was his persona and how much was just a father meeting his son's partner.

While giving them a tour of the house, the family — aside from Alfred who already knew it all — observed the details, happy memories in the form of pictures of trips, your marriage, birthdays, anniversaries, Daphne's growing stages, spontaneous moments that just deserved to be eternalized, trinkets, handmade pots, plants, Daphne’s toys, and the decor that was just a mix of you both. No guns in the walls, no corpses buried in the backyard, no blood stains. The only signals that it was their Jason living here and not a clone were the books, pictures and hidden security measures. 

It was… Good. Peaceful. Clearly the change in scenario helped him. It hurt them a little, some more than others, that it took him cutting them off for him to start healing, although, maybe opening up this new side of him for them meant that it wasn't just that. And it wasn't. The fault didn't fall completely on them. Nor on Jason. And one person, you, can't be the solution for all global crisis. Mental health is complex. Trauma is complicated. Past can't be changed, but the future can. 

That night, everyone enjoyed Jason's cooking, Daphne and the new future.

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