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starl1ght444 · 2 days ago

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jason todd x reader

── .✦ fluff

[ jason admiring you at a family barbecue, catching baby fever ]

[ 4k word count ]

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the sun sits gentle in the sky, soft gold washing over the green lawns of wayne manor. it’s the kind of day that feels like it was carved out of a dream—blue skies, laughter echoing through the gardens, the scent of grilled food riding warm breezes. someone’s playing music from a bluetooth speaker—something summery and old-school—and kids are running barefoot over the grass with juice-stained smiles.

you’re standing on the back patio, watching as your dad and bruce try to out-barbecue each other. there’s a mountain of food already stacked high on one table, and another being filled with cold drinks and desserts brought by both sides of the family. it’s not a holiday, not a birthday—just a weekend that seemed perfect for something soft and good.

jason finds you like he always does. like his compass only points to you. he slides up beside you with a drink in one hand, the other immediately brushing against your lower back like he can’t help it. he leans in, kisses your temple without even saying hi, and you smile.

“you smell like smoke and sunscreen,” you murmur, teasing gently. — he grins against your skin. “you say that like it’s not my most attractive combo.”

you glance at him. he’s wearing a plain white tee, sleeves rolled just enough to make your stomach flip, and a backwards baseball cap that he stole from dick earlier. his smile is easy, bright—one of the rare kinds you only get on days like this, when nothing hurts and everything feels safe.

“you having fun?” you ask. — “yeah,” he says, looking out over the lawn. “it’s weird. not used to this many people being this… happy. all at once.”

you nudge him playfully with your shoulder. “that’s the whole point, jay. just good vibes today. no patrols. no emergencies. just your family and mine, stuffing their faces and pretending they’re not competitive as hell.”

he laughs. “i saw your aunt arm-wrestling alfred. i’m afraid to ask who won.” — “don’t,” you whisper dramatically. “it’s a sensitive topic.”

you both laugh, and then you fall into a comfortable silence, leaning into each other. there’s something easy in the way you fit together, like puzzle pieces that just… make sense. and even though the day is just beginning, jason already feels something new blooming in his chest. soft. slow. a warmth he can’t name yet.

then, you get pulled away.

your sister’s baby, a sweet baby girl— barely a year old— is in a fit of giggles and reaches for you as soon as she spots you. you don’t hesitate. you scoop her up, nuzzle into her cheek with a bright laugh, and she squeals in delight. jason watches, something catching in his throat that he doesn’t fully understand.

you hold your niece like it’s second nature, hips swaying slightly as you bounce her. you tickle her ribs until she squeaks, then press a kiss to the crown of her head. she clutches at your shirt with chubby fingers, and you don’t even seem to notice how natural it looks.

jason notices

he watches you sink to the grass with her, both of you barefoot and smiling. the babygirl crawls all over you, laughing like you’re the best jungle gym she’s ever seen. you laugh, too—head thrown back, hair catching the light, eyes crinkled in pure joy. and suddenly, there’s a slow ache in jason’s chest.

he’s never thought about it before. not really. the whole kid thing. the whole… family thing.

he’s always been the kind of man who saw himself on the sidelines of that world. the one who sends birthday gifts but doesn’t show up to the party. the one who says “uncle jay” and brings the cool toys but leaves before bedtime stories.

but watching you like this—hands soft, voice sweeter than he’s ever heard it—something shifts. something opens. he thinks about you with a baby that’s yours. his.

a little mess of dark hair and your eyes, giggling just like your niece is now. he thinks about you holding them, soothing them, loving them the way you love everything. he thinks about tiny socks and bedtime songs and learning how to braid hair or teach someone how to ride a bike. and he doesn’t feel afraid.

he feels something else. — a need. — a want.

he blinks, heart hammering like he just ran a sprint. it’s new. it’s overwhelming. and it’s entirely because of the way you look right now, sitting in the grass with a baby curled against your chest, humming something soft as you rock her gently.

“oh, shit,” he whispers under his breath.

you glance up, like you felt him watching you. your smile is soft. inviting. you tilt your head and wave him over.

he doesn’t think—just goes.

you don’t even have to ask. when you pat the grass beside you, jason’s already lowering himself down with a groan that’s mostly exaggerated, even though he makes a show of cracking his knees. “god, i’m getting old,” he mutters, shooting you a playful glance.

your niece immediately perks up at the sight of him. she blinks those wide baby eyes and then grins—huge and gummy—and points at him with all the excitement in the world.

“dat!” she squeals. you laugh, warm and real, looking between her and jason. “that is not your dad, little lady. that’s jason.”

she doesn’t care. she clambers right onto his lap like it’s the most obvious place to be. jason freezes. his eyes go wide like she’s a lit stick of dynamite, and you watch as he carefully, so carefully, adjusts his hands to steady her. he looks at you like he needs instruction, a manual, a lifeline.

you just smile. “you’re doing fine sweetheart.”

he swallows, then looks down at her. she’s patting his chest with both palms, babbling nonsense with the kind of confidence only babies can get away with. she tugs at the collar of his shirt, pokes his cheek, then leans forward to bonk her forehead lightly against his. he blinks.

“uh… hi?” he says softly. you bite back a grin.

she squeals again and snuggles in like he’s the comfiest spot in the whole wide world. one tiny hand clings to his shirt. the other reaches up and gently touches the brim of his cap.

jason goes absolutely still.

you watch the exact moment his heart breaks open. it’s subtle—just a shift in his expression, the way his arms curl instinctively around her like he’s afraid to let her go now. his voice drops into something even softer.

“you like me, huh?” your niece, as if understanding, lets out a happy coo and rests her cheek against his shoulder. you’re not sure you’ve ever seen jason todd speechless.

he looks at you over her head, and for once, there’s no witty comeback. no smirk. just awe. you can almost hear the thoughts racing behind his eyes. he rocks her slightly, like he’s testing the motion, and when she settles, sighing in contentment, he smiles. — a real one. — quiet. tender. completely unguarded.

your chest pulls tight. “she likes you,” you say quietly. “a lot.”

jason glances down at her again, brushing one hand over the back of her little head. “yeah,” he says, voice rough. “i like her, too.” — and he means it.

he doesn’t know how to explain what’s happening inside him—how just ten minutes ago, the idea of holding a baby seemed like a distant maybe in a far-off future, and now he can’t imagine letting this little bundle go. she fits against him like she belongs there. like he was made for this in a way he never considered.

you lean your head on his shoulder. “you’re a natural, jay.”

“i don’t know what i’m doing.”

“you don’t have to. she trusts you. that’s enough.”

he doesn’t say anything for a minute. just holds her. breathes. lets it sink in. his heart has been through war. it’s been broken, stitched together, burned down, and rebuilt more times than he can count. he’s spent years convincing himself that love like this—soft, slow, steady—wasn’t for him.

but here you are, curled beside him in the grass. and here she is, asleep on his chest. and here he is, completely and utterly undone. — he wants this.

maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow—but someday.

he wants little hands and big hearts and quiet afternoons like this. he wants tiny sneakers by the door and messy drawings taped to the fridge. he wants the life he thought he’d never deserve, because you make it feel possible.

you glance up at him and find his eyes already on you. “you okay?” you ask.

he nods. “yeah. just… didn’t expect this.”

“what? a baby nap attack?”

he shakes his head. “no. this… feeling.”

you smile, soft and knowing. you thread your fingers through his where they rest on the grass. “it’s okay, you know,” you whisper. “to want things.”

he squeezes your hand. “you’d be a really good dad,” you say, almost like it’s a secret. “one day.”

jason doesn’t answer right away. he just looks down at your niece again, sleeping so soundly on his chest, and something in him settles.

*. ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the sun starts to dip low in the sky, painting the world in honey. that soft hour between afternoon and evening when everything feels a little more tender. the grills have been turned off, the music turned down, and the lawn scattered with half-empty cups and abandoned shoes from kids who always manage to lose one.

you and jason walking, this time near the big round table where dick and tim are already lounging, paper plates balanced on their laps. stephanie is there too, smiling, peeling grapes for herself like a queen, while damian pokes at a pile of roasted vegetables with an expression of deep suspicion.

you plop down with a plate of grilled chicken, a caesar salad and some fruit salad aswell. jason’s got two burgers stacked high and a lemonade that you swear is more sugar than anything else. he’s still got some baby drool on his shoulder and hasn’t noticed yet. — you don’t tell him.

instead, you nudge your knee against his and start eating, leaning just a little into his side. he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t shift—just stays steady. solid. warm.

“so,” dick says with a grin, looking pointedly at jason, “when were you gonna tell us you had a kid?”

jason chokes on a bite of burger, coughing into his elbow while you burst out laughing. he shoots dick a glare, wiping his mouth. “very funny.”

“no, seriously,” tim chimes in, smirking. “i thought that baby was yours. the way she was clinging to you? textbook toddler imprinting.”

stephanie hums. “she liked him.”

“clearly,” damian mutters. “he was the only one she didn’t scream at.”

you grin, glancing sideways at jason. “she does have good taste.” he mumbles something into his burger and keeps his eyes on his plate, but his ears are pink.

dick leans forward on his elbows, teasing grin still firmly in place. “you ever think about it, jay?”

jason pauses. you hold your breath. he shrugs, then glances at you. just for a second. then back at his plate.

“i dunno,” he says quietly. “today kind of made it hard not to.”

the table goes quiet for a beat—not awkward, just thoughtful.

you rest your hand on his thigh under the table, give it a squeeze. he covers it with his own without looking, thumb brushing slow across your knuckles. it says more than words ever could.

then, as if summoned by the power of chaos and barbecue sauce, a group of kids comes barreling toward your little circle.

there are four of them—your younger cousins plus, the neighbor kid alfred watches sometimes. they’re sticky and sun-kissed and full of energy they absolutely should not still have.

“jason!” one of the older boys shouts, skidding to a stop in front of him. “can you play tag with us? please? we need someone fast!”

“yeah!” another chimes in. “you look like you’d be really good at it!”

jason blinks, halfway through another bite. “uh—”

“pleeeaaaase?” they all whine in unison. steph giggles behind her hand. tim’s already pulling out his phone to film this. even damian looks vaguely amused. you nudge jason again, smirking. “come on, tough guy. they’ve challenged your honor.”

he groans, tipping his head back like he’s praying for strength. “you’re all monsters.” but he sets his plate down anyway. stands up. brushes his hands off on his jeans.

“all right, gremlins,” he says, cracking his knuckles. “you asked for it.” the kids scream in delight and scatter.

you watch, heart full and aching, as jason takes off after them with a grin that makes him look years younger. he’s surprisingly agile for someone full of burgers, weaving between kids and dodging tiny arms like a seasoned pro. he scoops one up over his shoulder, spins them until they squeal, then sets them down gently.

you can’t stop smiling. “he’s a goner,” dick says beside you, voice warm with something like pride.

you nod, eyes never leaving jason. “yeah. he is.”

“you know,” steph says, “he’s softer with you than i’ve ever seen.” you swallow around the knot in your throat.

“i feel like he’s starting to let himself want this,” you say softly. “really want it.”

tim smiles. “about time.” you finish your plate, set it aside, and watch as jason lets the smallest kid tackle him dramatically to the ground. they all pile on after that, laughing and shouting, and he just lays there, pretending to be defeated.

he catches your eye across the lawn, still buried under a dogpile of kids, and winks. you think your heart might actually burst.

cass, duke and barb start making their way over, everyone making room for eachother even if it is a little tight. “man jason is getting beat out there” duke laughed taking a drink of water.

you don’t last long on the sidelines.

as soon as you see jason get swarmed by kids and give in with the most exaggerated groan of defeat, your legs are already moving. you drop your plate off at the table, kick off your sandals, and make a run for it across the grass.

“hey!” you shout, cupping your hands around your mouth. “what’s this i hear about a tag game with no rules?”

jason sits up, eyes lighting up the moment he sees you. he lifts an arm like he’s going to catch you when you get close. “you sure you can handle this?” he calls. “these kids are relentless.”

you smirk. “so am i.” the second you’re close enough, one of your cousins tags you with a high-pitched “you’re it!” and bolts away shrieking. — and that’s all it takes.

soon, you’re both running wild with the kids—ducking and dodging and laughing so hard your stomach hurts. jason’s just as competitive as you expected, blocking kids for you and taking fake dives when someone “catches” him. at one point, you tackle him into the grass, both of you breathless and tangled up, and he’s laughing—really laughing, head thrown back, eyes crinkled at the corners.

you think you might be in love with every version of him. eventually, the chaos slows. kids drop off one by one, panting and grinning, collapsing on picnic blankets or into folding chairs with cold juice boxes pressed to their faces. you and jason end up near the big patio table again, sweaty and flushed and glowing with joy.

that’s where you find the adults and half of your side of the family.

your parents are sitting with bruce and alfred, a mix of lemonade and wine glasses on the table between them. the grown-ups have that relaxed energy that only comes after a full meal, a successful gathering, and nothing left to do but watch.

“you two looked like you were having fun,” your mom says, smiling fondly. — “we were,” you reply, still catching your breath. jason lingers behind you, a quiet shadow at your back.

“you’re good with kids, jason,” your dad says, and it’s not just polite—he means it. there’s a note of surprise and respect in his voice.

jason rubs the back of his neck. “they’re good with me. i think they sense that i was once a menace, too.” — everyone laughs.

even bruce looks slightly amused, eyes soft as he watches jason from behind his glass. alfred, always the most composed, nods. “you have a calming presence with the younger ones. despite your… usual demeanor.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” jason mutters.

just then, your sister approaches with your baby niece balanced on one hip. the little one looks sleepy and bashful now, her curls a bit messy, thumb in her mouth. “she’s been looking around for someone,” your sister says, eyes twinkling. “pretty sure i know who.”

the sweet babygirl blinks once… twice… then holds her arms out, very clearly and very purposefully, toward jason.

he freezes. — the whole table watches as he steps forward, gentle and quiet, and reaches for her. she practically melts into him as he lifts her into his arms again, head tucking under his chin like that’s where she belongs. jason holds her like he never wants to let go.

you can feel it from where you’re standing—that shift in the air. like everyone around you sees something unspoken settle into place. like puzzle pieces clicking in without anyone needing to name them. “she doesn’t do that for just anyone,” your sister says softly.

jason presses a kiss to the top of rosie’s head, one hand running along her back in slow, comforting circles. “she’s got good instincts,” he says, and it’s half a joke, half a truth he hasn’t quite let himself feel until now.

your mom and dad share a look you can’t quite read, something soft and knowing between them. bruce smiles faintly behind his glass. alfred gives you the barest nod, like he sees it too.

you walk back over and stand beside jason, brushing a curl out of the baby’s face. “she’s got you wrapped around her tiny little finger,” you whisper.

jason huffs out a quiet laugh. “yeah. i’m in deep.” — you lean against his arm, heart full. and in this moment, with your family and his all gathered around, with the sun casting golden light over the lawn and your niece tucked safely against his chest, you realize you’ve never felt more at home.

and jason? — jason’s realizing something too. he doesn’t just want to be a part of this someday.

he wants this. with you.

the backyard gets quieter as the sun sinks behind the trees, painting the sky in soft lilacs and golds. kids have all been rounded up, shoes found, goodbyes whispered through tired yawns. the grill’s cold now, the music little more than a low hum in the background. you watch your mom hug cass, your dad laughing at something dick says, and the rest of the evening melts into a kind of dreamy haze.

babygirl is curled up in jason’s arms again, barely awake, tiny fingers tangled in his shirt. your sister and brother in law approaches with an apologetic smile.

“let me take her in, jay,” she says softly. “you’ve done more than enough.”

jason doesn’t look ready to let go. but he nods, brushing one more kiss over the crown of the baby’s head before carefully passing her off. “she’s perfect,” he murmurs.

“so were you,” your brother in law says holding his daughter. the baby shyly smiling, making jason wave bye, you blowing a kiss.

a few minutes later, most of the family is saying their goodbyes. the waynes linger, always the last to leave, and you stand off to the side with jason as your parents pack up their cooler. your fingers are laced with his, and he hasn’t let go once.

“you wanna go for a walk?” you ask quietly, once the yard is nearly empty.

jason nods, gentle eyes on you. “yeah. i’d like that.”

you walk in slow steps across the grass, barefoot, side by side under the darkening sky. there’s that soft hum of crickets starting, the scent of charcoal and lemonade still floating in the air. everything feels still. for a while, neither of you says anything.

then, jason breaks the quiet with a voice so soft it almost gets lost in the breeze. “i didn’t think i’d be good at it.”

you glance over. “what?”

“any of it,” he says. “kids. the whole… warm and safe thing. didn’t think i had it in me.” — your heart tugs

“but you do,” you say, gently. “i saw it today. everyone did.”

he looks at you, and the weight of the day sits in his chest like something holy. “when she fell asleep on me… i didn’t wanna move. like, ever.”

you smile, stepping closer. “you didn’t have to. she was right where she wanted to be.”

jason stops walking. his hand slips out of yours only so he can cup your face instead, thumb brushing your cheek like he’s memorizing you. like he already has, but needs to do it again just in case.

“i never thought about it before. like—really thought. what it might be like… to have a little girl with your eyes, your laugh. a kid who knows nothing but love.”

your breath catches. — “but today… watching you hold her watching you smile at those kids… it just—something clicked.”

you rest your forehead against his. “yeah?”

“yeah.” his voice is quiet. certain. like a promise.

“it scared me,” he admits. “but in a good way. like… like maybe i finally want something real. something i never let myself imagine.”

you curl your fingers into the fabric of his shirt. “you can have it, jason. you deserve it.”

he laughs softly. “do i, though?”

“absolutely.” he kisses you then, slow and warm and deep like he means it. like everything he’s feeling today is pouring out through that one perfect moment. the kind of kiss that tastes like sunlight and cotton candy and something brand new being born right in your chest.

when you finally pull back, he still looks dazed. “i think,” he says, clearing his throat, “i’ve got a little baby fever.”

you grin. “a little?”

“okay. a lot.” — you wrap your arms around his waist, leaning into him. “we don’t have to figure it all out now. we’ve got time.”

he rests his chin on top of your head. “yeah. but just so you know—i’m thinking maybe two.”

you look up, eyes wide. “two?”

“or three,” he says, smirking. “a little chaos. just enough to keep things interesting.”

you laugh, and it echoes across the empty lawn, bright and real. and as the stars come out one by one above you, jason todd holds you like the future is already here, folded gently into the arms of the person he loves most.

he never thought he’d want this. but now?

he can’t imagine wanting anything else.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

BONUS — ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

the sun’s almost gone now, just a sliver of orange on the edge of the horizon. the yard is quieter—paper plates stacked, folding chairs being packed up, empty cups tossed into bags. and for once, alfred’s not lifting a finger.

“sit, alfred,” bruce had insisted, nudging a chair under him like it was an order from the batcave. “we’ve got this.��

and so he sits, arms crossed, watching as the rest of the family—grown vigilantes and honorary siblings alike—start cleaning up what looks like the remains of a small festival.

“i feel like we’re one mariachi band away from calling this a wedding,” dick says, stuffing plastic forks into a bag while balancing a tray of leftover burgers on his hip.

“you mean a baby shower,” tim mutters, dragging a trash bag behind him. “give it a year.”

steph raises an eyebrow, looking amused. “a year? you’re being generous.”

damian states “my money’s on six months. tops. did you see the way jason was holding that baby?”

“like she was made of gold,” dick agrees, dropping the tray on the patio table. “he was glowing.”

“i’ve never seen him smile like that,” tim adds. “like… actually smile.”

“we should start a pool,” duke says, hands clapping together. “fifty bucks, winner takes all.”

“i’m in,” barb says, cass nodding, already pulling her phone out. “my bet: christmas announcement.”

bruce, who’s been quietly gathering napkins from the lawn, clears his throat. everyone turns. “new year’s,” he says calmly, straightening up. “and i think i’ll be a good grandpa.”

a pause. — then all of them lose it—laughing, shouting over each other, mock gasping like bruce just admitted to watching daytime soaps. “you can’t just drop that!” dick yells, pointing. “you want grandkids?”

“i’d like to think jason’s happy,” bruce replies, folding another chair with ease. “and if he is… i’ll be happy, too.”

cass nods slowly, like it makes perfect sense, barb saying “you’d be a good grandpa. quiet. dramatic.”

steph’s cackling. “and rich!”

“what are you all talking about?” jason calls from across the lawn, finally reappearing with you tucked into his side, both of you glowing in that soft post-chaos calm.

the group goes still. then dick turns around and whistles casually. “nothing. just cleaning up.”

you squint suspiciously. “you’re all acting weird.”

“what else is new?” jason mutters, tugging you closer.

as you both disappear inside to help pack up leftovers, the family watches you go. and bruce, standing at the edge of the patio, just smiles to himself.

maybe soon. — maybe not.

but when it happens, he’ll be ready.

even if that means learning how to baby-proof the manor.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚

i love writing sweet moments for jason ☹️ he deserves them!!

i wanna write a part two soon!! this was one of my favorites stories i’ve wrote so far. :3 i love writing jason being expressive and openly sweet— because it’s something you don’t see alot, and for good reason. he’s been through soooo much!!

i enjoy writing angst don’t get me wrong, but fluff i think is more my territory! :3 tell me if you’d like a part two!!

lmk if you’d like more angst stories — or more smut — or more fluff :)

also DM’s are always open <3

PT. 2 link HERE

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