#romantic!reader

The wedding the both of you have was small. Well, small-ish - there was a lot of people he wanted to invite, surprisingly, ranging from some close friends, to allies in the vigilante world, to his family. There were a lot of vigilante’s in their civilian forms at your guy’s wedding. Your side of the family was really surprised The Bruce Wayne and The Clark Kent was there without any paparazzi whatsoever.

(You and Jason were very careful about that. So was Bruce, especially for all the hell Jason went through when he was younger. They may be on better terms now, but he still felt he had a lot to make up for. Jason is completely fine with that - to a point, of course.)

The honeymoon? Nice and calm vacation to a small town near Smallville. Jason and you wanted a getaway for just eachother, without any stresses of vigilante stuff, or villains to inevitably interrupt that.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, his siblings were also keeping a very strict routine of ‘DO NOT CONTACT JASON OR Y/N UNLESS IF IT IS A DIRE, DIRE EMERGENCY’

Trust me, if it was two dires you both would’ve had to come home.

Luckily that didn’t happen.

Now, married life back in the city was a whole other thing to get used to.

You two have already lived together for the past couple years beforehand. You two have already dealt with your fair share of strains in the relationship, and still do to some degree. But luckily over the years before marriage you guys found a way to deal with that in a healthy way.

You prioritize healthy coping skills. So does Jason.

Even your respective therapists do. (Harley Quinn helped you both find ones qualified for your respective traumas. Very hard task, but Harley has a bit of a soft spot for Red Hood both in and out of the mask. She’s pretty chill with you too.)

Jason has his bouts of anger. Never, ever takes it out on you though, ever. Hell no. You guys have a punching bag for that. Sometimes you both use it together if you guys are venting about your day! Very cathartic and nice to bond with.

He teaches you how to fight. Just in case. You hate using weapons but he helps you get more comfortable, and you guys go over plans in case of break-ins, kidnappings, ect.

Especially if someone decides to burgle your cat.

You guys have a black cat you guys found in an alleyway a year into dating. He is your guy’s son that you decided to name Robin. Jason didn’t like the name at first, especially since you not-so-subtly alluded it to be reminiscent of his Robin days, but over time it stuck.

Robin is a nice and very sweet kitty. No one messes with Robin and you have thrown hands after someone broke into your apartment once to steal him. That was also during the time you moved in with Jason, he freaked out when you called him after the break in. Thoroughly impressed you managed to beat up the intruder but he cares about your’s and your cat’s safety - you moved in not long afterwards.

Reading and drawing dates - you guys, even into your marriage, go on small dates like these that don’t require too much thought or money. Sometimes you go to the park, or if it’s raining to your guy’s favorite café, with your favorite books (and sketchbook no. 173637294 for you specifically), and just enjoy your times together.

You guys do it at home too, but it’s fun to dress up and get out of the apartment for those kinds of dates.

Your home, despite all the weapons he has hidden around or on ‘decorative’ display, is quite cozy too!! It’s your safe space and you want it to exude that energy all throughout. Jason likes figuring out where decorations and furniture should go with you, it’s his favorite thing that gives him a sense of normalcy with you.

Also the banter between you two is fun. Smartass after smartass remark leaves you in stitches with laughter. Especially if it’s late at night and you both are loopy from lack of sleep. (Jason has more practice with that but it still effects him to some degree.)

At this point being married, you’re used to his nightly activities too. Sometimes you stay up and make him his favorite food to the best of your ability (you aren’t too good at cooking, but you’re learning for the both of you, same as him). Other times you just order takeout and eat with him.

Sometimes you help with his injuries, other times you don’t. If they’re small and benign he’s able to do them himself, bigger ones have you worried and helping him.

You always make sure he has an icepack ready for bruises. He’s taught you how to stitch wounds up to, given the fact that you don’t have as much medical experience as him.

Also after his nightly escapades as Red Hood, you guys sit and have tea too!! Calms him down enough to sleep, even if some nights are harder than others.

He’s gotten better at coping with his PTSD, but as per the usual he does have his nightmares at times. You being there right next to him helps. And you help ground him back into reality. Be it cuddles, if he’s comfortable with them, or be it just sitting there next to him and talking to him about whatever’s on your mind until he’s laying back down to listen to you.

You guys switch between who’s big and little spoon.

Robin is always near you guys in some way during bedtime. One time you woke up to cat fur in between your’s and Jason’s heads before. Robin doesn’t understand personal space at all but you guy’s love it all the same.

Speaking of which, he’s a natural born shoulder kitty! He will jump on your shoulders when the offer is available. Sometimes he scares the crap out of the both of you though whenever he’s being frisky, though. But normally Robin’s smart enough to do it when you two are aware that he’s there. He learns.

On your harder days, Jason makes you breakfast and makes you tea just like you do for him. He always asks you what you need, what you’re comfortable with. Some days it’s cuddling, other times when you don’t want to be touched you just tell him you want him near only. He knows that’s when he can just sit beside you on either the couch, table, barstools or bed and just read while you listen and watch your guy’s favorite shows.

You guys also have nights where you guys have watch parties too.

Sometimes his siblings join in too, bringing food from Alfred as well. It’s fun, and annoying for Jason at times, but still great nonetheless.

You guys visit the manor when needed, or during holidays too. Hanukkah, Christmas, Valentine’s Day, certain Galas, birthday parties, ect.

Sometimes you guys both just visit to mess with his siblings and Bruce. Cause some chaos a bit, that sort of thing. It’s fun.

Also you guys have gossip dates.

Be it about vigilante drama, co-worker drama, customer drama, family drama, villain drama, you guys will gossip and when those dates are at home Robin the cat will put his two cents in as well. He’s as vocal as he is sweet. Which is very.

And sometimes you record when Jason and Robin have conversations. Neither of you guys can understand the cat’s meows but it’s so fun interpreting it and seeing your husband have a full on conversation with the cat. You send it to the group chat you’re in with all the siblings and he never hears the end of it for the next few patrols. Sometimes Dick and Tim and Duke want to know what the tea is between Jason and the cat and he always says “That’s between me, my spouse and my cat, not you three.”

You inevitably tell them anyways, as well as Cass, Steph and Barbara.

Also Damian loves Robin that cat. He requests play dates between his pets and yours. You always cave for the kid, much to Jason’s dismay. But then again, he caves for him too. He always does.

Speaking of kids, I don’t think you guys will necessarily have one for a long, long while.

You guys agreed that you have to be absolutely sure and ready. Financially, mentally, emotionally, physically, mentally. Kids are a big responsibility and neither of you want your kids to ever grow up in an unsafe and unstable environment.

When you guys are ready though, which won’t be for a long while, I’m sure you guys will pull a Bruce and adopt or foster kids. Teenagers first, along with their siblings if they have any. You’d never separate them from their siblings - hell, the both of you, along with some help from his family and friends, would track siblings down if needed.

Like I said though, that won’t be for a long while.

You two are perfectly content in your save haven apartment with your lovely black cat Robin.

Besides, if you guys had kids early, Robin would be jealous and attention starved.

"You... have a kid?"

The small hellion behind you hid by your legs. He barely reached past your knees. A bit small for a five year old, but given the circumstances of Zaun... it was the norm.

You turned towards the kid, and placed a comforting hand on the top of his head. He visibly relaxed at the gesture, and tentatively peaked out to look at the strong woman in front of you both.

"Not my kid by blood, Vi", you told her with a forced chuckle. "You know me, I don't think I'd get with any of the guys down here in Zaun. Even here in the Firelights."

Vi took her gaze off of the kid, and settled her eyes on you.

"Well...", she started, her tone a bit tense. "It has been, what, seven years? Things change."

Except you, she hoped. Kind hearted, beautiful you. A light in the dark of Zaun and Piltover alike. At least, that's how she described you as when it was just her and Vander, talking about everything and nothing during one of the calmer nights before shit hit the fan.

"Not always", you replied. You kept your voice calm, and careful. A habit you've made for yourself whenever the Firelights let in someone new. It kept the children the group took care of calm, and kept the adults from lashing out. You did that because you had no idea what the newcomers had been through. Be it their addiction to Shimmer, loss of a loved one, or the brutality of an enforcer.

You had to make sure there was a level of trust. And stars know how you needed to keep that up with Vi, with everything she's been through at Stillwater. Keep a level head. Don't let all your old emotions and memories resurface to the cracks you painstakingly had to fill.

Especially with the little guy near your legs, who had begun to stare tiny daggers at Vi.

"This little guy--", you began, voice straining with a bit of effort while you hauled him up to your hip. "--is still new here. Kind of. Won't leave my side, not that I mind. Scar said it was like I was... reverse adopted or something like that."

You smiled wryly at the thought. "I figured why not take him under my wing? Help him acclimate and get used to it here. I had extra space in my room too, so it all worked out."

A small smile pulled at the corners of Vi's mouth. You were still just as kindhearted as when you both were teenagers. Still lovely.

Good, she thinks. That's good.

"So... not your kid then, bird?"

The nickname fell so seamlessly off her tongue. A nickname she gave you because during your little exploits up to Piltover, whenever it was just you and her, you practically flew around the buildings. You had told her it was because you had a good teacher to help you. If Vi remembered correctly, that was around the time of her first kiss with you.

She said you were amazing, you said you had a good teacher and gave her the softest eyes she could ever imagine and then...

Well, your glance away from her said it all. You remembered it too.

She missed you so much.

Clearing your throat, you continued. "No, no, he's still my kid. Best kid all around - and I will be biased, 'cause he's a great helper, isn't that right, Clay?"

Clay, the boy in your arms, nodded. He still glowered at the woman in front of you.

"Doesn't seem like he likes me all that much", Vi said. She shoved her hands back into the pockets of her jacket, and took a small step forward. Clay leaned back into you defensively, and a small arm wrapped around the front of your shoulders. Vi raised a brow at that. A curious one, rather than the usual judgemental one.

You adjusted your hold on the five year old, one hand raised to his back to keep him stable on your hip. Your other hand moved to his arm, and gently pried his hand off of your shoulder. You let him keep a hold on your hand to mess with it, an action you were used to doing by then. Over time you had found out the kid was tactile, and hated being left alone for too long.

"He doesn't trust people he doesn't know too well. Gets quiet, too. Plus you were hauled in here with a bag over your head and got tied up before Ekko found out it was you, and not some other piltie, so...", you shrugged. Vi huffed out a wry laugh.

"Figures. I wouldn't trust me either, kid", she said to Clay. Clay blinked at her, the sharpness in his eyes reducing the slightest bit.

"Vi, here, isn't like those pilties though", you said to him. "She's not like those enforcers from what happened, kiddo. Can't say much for that friend of hers, but Vi's trustworthy. You alright if I show you?"

You held out the hand he was playing with, and opened it with your palm facing up, as if you were offering your hand over to Vi. Clay glanced in between you both, and regarded Vi with a careful scrutiny. When he saw the care in your eyes, and the calmness in both of you, he quietly spoke.

" 'Think so."

"You sure?", you asked. Vi swears your voice got ten times more gentle, ten times more sweet. Although, that could be the nostalgia talking. Nonetheless, it was still there. "I don't wanna do something you're uncomfortable with, bud."

" 'M sure."

"Alright." You nodded at him, and your eyes went back to Vi. Your hand still remained outstretched towards her, a quiet beckon for her to take it into her own. Just like you've done dozens of times before this, when you were just teenagers. Just kids.

Your eyes traced over her. Took in every new scar, every new tattoo and muscle. Her hands were infinitely roughed up, even with the bandages over them. However, it was still her. Still Vi.

Your Vi.

Changes or no changes, she was still the person you grew to love years ago. And hopefully, she still understood that silent plea in your eyes to hold her hand.

Vi's eyes, the softest of powder blue, went gentle. The bags under them still sagged, but the weight of them lightened. Almost tentatively, she raised her hand to yours.

The briefest of touches, her fingertips to yours, sparked with static. Vi flinched her hand away at first, and shared a laugh with you at how sudden it was. But after that, her hand slipped right onto yours.

You squeezed her wrist, and she did the same. You turned her hand over, so that her own hand was laid out, palm up, and raised it just a bit so that Clay could see it better.

"See? She's not so bad", you mumbled. "Rough around the edges, sure, but everyone is. Vi won't hurt you, and she won't hurt me."

Clay stared at Vi's hand, and listened carefully to your words. He reached down, and placed his small hand onto the bandages covering Vi's palm.

The sleeve on his jacket rose up, showing the bandages wrapped around his own wrist. An injury from a harsh scrape he got from running away from an enforcer. By the time you and a few firelights found him, it was already infected. Luckily, back there at the Firelight's tree, there were enough antibiotics there to help. And luckily, he was healing.

Vi and Clay looked up at each other. The tension pulling at Clay's shoulders dropped some, and Vi just gave him a small nod.

"See what I mean, Clay?" Your thumb brushed against her wrist, moving slowly in a crescent shape against her skin. A habit you used to have, years ago. "She won't hurt us."

You gazed back into her eyes. Longing and love and hurt swirled behind them. Tapered down, but still there.

"I trust her."

The base on Yavin IV was, as per usual, bustling with people from all over the galaxy. All apart of the rebellion. Even if it’s for the smallest task, such as organizing food for everyone, both on and off-base, or making posters and holo-art to spread across the Empire. Music, too.

Even just existing in spite of the Empire, was an act of rebellion itself.

Which, currently, was what you were doing. Sitting on top of the Ghost, with the head of your partner resting in your lap, watching the sun set after a - surprisingly - peaceful day.

Well, mostly peaceful.

You could hear the distant calls of Chopper and AP-5 arguing. Kanan scolding, Hera planning. Sabine was off painting another stormtrooper’s helmet - this time on your request, since you wanted to have a matching set.

And that matching set, was with none other than Ezra Bridger, whose head rested comfortably against your thighs. You leaned back against one of your hands, the metal of the ghost still cold underneath your fingertips.

No matter how many times Ezra and Zeb cleaned, scrubbed, and even buffed out all the scuff marks from all the battles you faced, the scars still remained. Little indents and scratches remained rough beneath your hand, but not enough to snag on clothing. Despite it all, it still remained a bastion of comfort.

And yes, the warm sun that finally reached the entrance of the base helped with that too, however there was only so much that sun could do before it disappeared behind the horizon of the dense trees that surrounded the base. Kept it well hidden, too. You all counted yourselves lucky that Yavin IV was such a large planet.

Ezra shifted next to you, maneuvering himself to lay down a bit more comfortably. His gaze still remained on the sky, but once he deemed himself comfortable enough, he relaxed in his spot long enough for you to start threading your free hand through his short hair.

“Feels nice”, he murmured as his eyes closed. You smiled down at him for a brief second, amused at how he reacted.

“You’re like a Loth Cat”, you teased, earning a halfhearted grunt from said loth cat below you. “No wonder why Kanan had you training to connect with them years ago.”

He cracked one eye open, and gave you the most adorably vicious side-eye he could ever muster against you. When you snickered, he turned his head to glare at you fully.

“Keep saying that and I’m gonna ask Zeb if he wants to cuddle instead,” Ezra threatened, though you knew he didn’t actually mean it. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t mess with him back.

You moved your hand away from his hair, and gasped as if you were scorned. Your hand met your collarbone, as if you were clutching your metaphorical pearls.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

You returned his playful glare. Neither of you moved, until the wind rustled the leaves of the forest around you. Ezra broke first, and sighed in defeat, the sound wistful against your ears.

“You’re right”, he relented, not even bothering to bite back his smile. He turned away, and settled his head back on your thighs. “I wouldn’t. And Zeb would kill me.”

You laughed.

Stars, Ezra loved your laugh.

“He would definitely kill you”, you agreed through the sound of your chuckles. Your hand settled back onto its rightful place in his hair. “And probably blame me, too.”

“You opened up a can of worms the first time I let you do this—“, he pointed at your hand, and pretended to be serious once again. “—definitely your fault, Spectre-7.”

“Sure it is, Ez. Sure it is.”

Ezra settled down once again, and you continued to watch the sunset with him. The hush of the base fell over you like a blanket once more. Each noise folded together in the background, none of you perturbed in your little bubble.

Once the edge of the sun began to push against the tree line, you began to hum to yourself. The tune was quiet, and just slightly upbeat, and very nostalgic. For you, at the very least.

It was for Ezra too, not that you ever knew about it. In the years that you’ve known each other, the song was something you always hummed. During random tasks around the ship, in a quiet whisper during a couple of covert intel missions - even when you ate sometimes.

Although when you ate, you didn’t actually hum it, he just knew whatever song it was got stuck in your head when you began to tilt or nod your head at the beat, and lightly bounced your foot against the floor. Your head always moved with the beat.

A motion that never failed to catch his attention.

He slowly turned his head, and stared up at you as you continued the song. He made sure to be discreet. Nothing too sudden, or you would stop. Luck was on his side, you were too busy looking at the sky as the colors faded from light blue to orange to notice the way he moved.

Eventually, he laid on his back, fully faced up at you. When he took your hand from his hair, and threaded his fingers with yours, that was when he finally got your attention. Your humming stopped, much to his chagrin.

“What’s up?”, you asked, voice soft against the wind. Ezra shrugged, and brought your intertwined hands down to his chest. His thumb roved over the back of yours, the fabric of his gloves rough yet not biting.

“Nothing.”, he answered, just as quietly. “Just, y’know. Listening.”

“Ahh… right...”

You trailed off after you nodded in response, and picked against one of the scratches intended on the metal below you.

“… ‘S it bothering you?”, you asked, not in the very least self conscious. It wasn’t something you were embarrassed about, you just didn’t want to accidentally pop the peaceful bubble the two of you made together.

“No, no”, he shook his head. “Not at all, starbird. Just… yknow.”

He shrugged again. “Makes me curious, that’s all.”

“How so?”

“Where’s it from?”

You blinked in surprise. You weren’t expecting him to ask that. No one ever did, actually. They never assumed anything, never took a deep dive to look into it themselves. They just all… let you be.

Which you were grateful for, to some degree.

And at the very least, they didn’t look at you like you were crazy like those bounty hunters did, before the Ghost Crew found you those years ago.

Maybe that was why they never asked, you thought, because they appeared just after one of the hunters verbally berated you for the humming. It didn’t bother you, actually. The verbal beratement - you’ve heard it all before. The Empire wasn’t at all creative with insults while they occupied your planet, and neither were the bounty hunters they hired when you escaped.

That didn’t mean you missed talking about it, though. Your planet. Your culture, your parents.

And Ezra was willing to listen, like always.

You smiled, and gazed back up at the sky, orange fading into a dusty pink. “My parents.”

You sighed through your nose, and began to regale your partner with the explanation behind your music. “My mom used to trot around like one of those Blurrgs on Ryloth, and sang this song while I sat on her shoulders—“, your laugh blended into your words. “—my dad always encouraged her to go faster, and joined in sometimes too. Sometimes she would sing me to sleep with it, and after the empire found my planet, so did my dad. They taught me the words while we cooked our food, while I did my homework, while we cleaned…”

You trailed off once more, your smile dimming at the edges. “When we went into hiding they whispered it into my ear so I wouldn’t cry. Music was part of my culture. The tune, the song, was part of everyone’s childhood. Didn’t realize that until they banned it, saying it was dark magick, yknow, the kinds those nightsisters used.”

Ezra scoffed from below you. You huffed wryly, and glanced back down at him. His hand tightened its grip around yours, for a sliver of a second. “Stupid, I know. It got so bad that the empire was convinced that whenever it was sung we were casting curses on them.”

You laughed at the memory, and Ezra joined you. He knew as well as you did that laughing at the horrors you both had endured from the empire - in different ways, of course - was the best medicine. Always was.

“Can’t imagine you casting a curse”, he said, and rolled his eyes at the thought. “You’re way too nice for that.”

“Am I really?”

You raised a brow at him. He hummed in feign thought, tapping a knuckle from his free hand against his chin.

“Most of the time.”, he teased. You snorted, and shook your head.

“Very rude, Spectre-6.” You said, clicking your tongue a couple times against the roof of your mouth. “Very rude.”

He shrugged again, the motion nonchalant, as if he said nothing wrong. “No idea what you mean, Spectre-7.”

You both shared another bout of quiet chuckling. The sky had begun to melt into a darker pink, when you gently broke the blanket of quiet once more.

“… Wanna know what my parents did when we first heard that rumor?”

The Jedi lying on your lap hummed in response to your question.

“What’d they do?”, Ezra asked, a gentle urge for you to continue.

“They just sung it louder.”

Despite the underlying loss behind your words, he knew exactly what you were feeling. The lightness he felt in his shoulders, the way the warmth that surrounded you when he reached out to you through the force morphed into something stronger.

You were proud.

The last remaining glow of the sun caught against your face. The amber and gold hues illuminated your hair and skin, and it bounced off of you like you were the one that emitted the star’s rays yourself.

His eyes grew soft, pupils growing ever so slightly. His cerulean blues gazed reverently into yours, your own eyes catching more of their color when the light hit them just right. Knowing what he knew now… well.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t fall even further into the galaxy for you.

The sun dipped below the horizon, lost beneath the trees.