ππ² Χ Dating Jason Todd x Fem! Reader ΰΊ΄ πΦΊΦΌΧ
κ° headcanons of what itβs like dating Jason Todd, featuring nothing but sweet little moments, domestic fluff, and way too much sugar. κ±
Eeek! (ΰΉβα΄βΰΉ) !!! first time writing for DC, hehe !! I definitely want to write more of these soon <3
Slow dancing together while youβre supposed to be cooking .α.α
The apartment had officially become more Jasonβs than yours, his presence was literally found into every square inch of the apartment space.
His heavy leather jackets were always seen hanging on the entryway hooks, his muddy boots sat by the door, and his distinct scent of cedarwood, a distinctive scent of gun oil, and expensive cologne that you bought him, clung to the pillows in your bedroom. Books that the both of you owned were neatly placed and organized in a shared shelf.
In the bathroom, his second toothbrush rested in the holder right next to yours, the sink shared both you and his toiletries like his shaver and your skincare products (that he often steals to use for his own skin) the charcoal body wash lined the tub, next to your body wash and his worn-out leather belts were casually draped over the bedroom chair.
It was basically a home that the both of you shared together.Today was a rare, blessed day off, and for once, you actually felt motivated to cook.You decided that for dinner the both of you will have pasta, a seasoned steak, and a crisp Caesar salad.
To set the mood, you dropped the needle onto the vinyl record, filling the kitchen with the warm, voice of Elvis Presley crooning, βWise men say, only fools rush in...β
As you stood at the counter intently slicing up the pieces of steak, a pair of massive, heavily scarred arms suddenly wrapped tightly around your waist from behind.
Jason pulled your back flush against his broad chest, burying his face directly into the crook of your neck, his rough stubble scratching lightly against your skin as he let out a deep, contented hum.
"Smells incredible in here, ma," he mumbled against your skin, his voice deep and raspy from sleep before he pressed a warm, lingering kiss right onto your cheek.
You turned slightly in his grip, picking up a perfectly cooked piece of steak to feed him, which he took straight from your fingers with a lazy, boyish smirk.
"Yeah, you're definitely keeping me around, babe," he teased, chewing happily before taking the knife safely from your hand and setting it on the cutting board.
βHmm, Iβll think about it if you behave.β
He chuckled at your response and turned you around guiding you into a slow, swaying rhythm right there in front of the stove, matching the tempo of the record as he leaned down to give you a soft peck on the lips and a gentle kiss on your forehead.
"You're too good to me," he murmured, his eyes were completely soft, when he looked at you. Right before you could say something sweet back, he leaned down and pressed a kiss on you cheek, forehead and your nose, peppering you with kisses, feeling his lips brush against your skin.
βJasonβtoo much,β you giggled trying to push him away but he leaned in more and continued to sway you, while laughing freely. The second your eyes met his laughing, you couldn't help but lean into him, pulling his head down by the collar of his shirt.
The playful chaos in the kitchen instantly ground to a halt as Jason caught your waist, locking you against him as your lips met in a deep, breath-stealing kiss that seemed to stretch on forever.
The world outside the apartment completely faded; there was no Red Hood at the moment and no danger to worry about, just the heavy, weight of his chest rising and falling against yours as his mouth moved over yours with a slow, desperate tenderness.
His large hands moved up to cup your jaw, and his thumbs gently wiping across your cheekbones, deepening the kiss until you both were completely breathless, lingering with soft, trailing pecks to each other's lips and noses.
As you finally rested your forehead against his broad chest to catch your breath, and continued to slow dance with the both of you intertwining your hands and you leaning on his chest,the record player crackled softly in the background, bridging the quiet space between you both of you, βBut I can't help falling in love with you.β
Jason Todd would do anything to fall in-love with you over and over again.
When you wake up hazily, the first thing you notice is the thin streaks of sunlight slipping through the blinds and curtains, painting soft lines across the room.
You turn your head lazily toward the other side of the bed.
Jason is still fast asleep. His dark hair is messy from the night, a faint stubble covering his jaw that heβll probably complain about later before deciding whether he can be bothered to shave it. His eyelashes flutter slightly with each slow breath, and for a moment, you simply watch him.
The room is completely quiet except for the sound of both of you breathing.Your faces are close enough that the tips of your noses almost touch.You smile faintly then Jasonβs eyes slowly open.
He blinks at you a few times, clearly still halfway asleep.
"β¦Morning."His voice is low and raspy from sleep.
"Morningβ¦"you whisper back, brushing the strands of his hair on his face.
He closes his eyes again for a second, stretching beneath the blankets with a quiet groan before rolling onto his back.
You push yourself up slightly, resting your head against your hand as you look down at him. "You look rough."
Jason cracks one eye open, a slow, lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips despite his exhaustion. He doesn't move to defend himself. Instead, he reaches out blindly beneath the covers, his hand finding your waist and tugging you back down toward his chest.
"Rough?" he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep as he pulls the blanket up over your shoulders. "Thatβs cold for first thing in the morning."
He buries his face into your hair, breathing in deeply and letting out a contented sigh that vibrates against you.
"If I look rough, it's your fault anyway," he mumbles against the top of your head, his grip tightening just enough to keep you from escaping. "Five more minutes. Please princess. Don't moveβ¦.β
You let out a soft laugh and let your weight fall back down, melting into his chest. The warmth of the blankets and his arms around you makes it incredibly easy to give up on the idea of being productive anytime soon.
Jason hums in approval, his chest rising and falling beneath you as he rests his chin on top of your head. One of his large hands starts to lazily trace slow circles on your back, his fingers warm through your shirt.
"Thanks ma," he murmurs, his eyes closed again.
The room is still completely still, the world outside wrapped in early morning quiet, making it feel like the two of you are the only people awake.
Moments like this are incredibly rare with Jason. Usually, once the sun goes down, Gotham calls him away, and the Red Hood takes over the night. Having him here, completely off-duty and staying over, feels like a hard-won luxury you both desperately needed.
Now, the room is bathed in the warm, ambient glow of a bedside lamp. The two of you are propped up against a mountain of pillows, completely relaxed and wrapped in a hilariously domestic scene. Both of you are wearing thick, clay facemasks, and a large bowl of fresh, cut-up fruit sits directly between you on the mattress as a shared snack.
You each have a book in hand, turning pages in a comfortable, rhythmic silence. Jason shifts slightly, his shoulder brushing against yours as he reaches into the bowl. He blindly stabs a piece of pineapple with a fork, carefully navigating it past the stiff edge of his mask. He chews thoughtfully before glancing over at your book.
"Are ya actually reading,hm?" he asks, his voice funny and muffled because the mask makes it impossible to move his face, "cause i swear you are you just staring at the same paragraph.."
You smile, keeping your face as still as possible to avoid cracking the hardened mask, and nudge his arm with your elbow. "Yes Jay..iβm reading" you responded then nudge his shoulder, "Can I have a strawberry, please?" you ask, your voice just as restricted as his.
Jason lets out a low huff that sounds suspiciously like a laugh. He sets his book down on his lap, leaning over the fruit bowl to inspect the options. With mock seriousness, he sifts through the pieces until he finds the largest, reddest strawberry in the pile, skewering it carefully with the fork.
He turns toward you, bringing the fruit up to your lips. His eyes are bright with amusement, watching you intently to make sure he doesn't accidentally smash the strawberry into the white skincare cream plastered across your cheeks. "Open wide," he teases quietly, his hand perfectly steady as he guides the snack into your mouth.
You swallow the strawberry and hum in appreciation, leaning back against the pillows to flip the page of your book. For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the crisp rustle of paper and the hum of the really not quite Gotham city far below. Jason picks his own book back up, but his attention seems to wander, his eyes darting from the text to the fruit bowl and then back to you.
Finally, he nudges your knee with his foot beneath the heavy blankets. "Can you give me one too..," he says, his voice flat but a distinct glint of mischief in his eyes. He taps his chest with the corner of his book, gesturing toward the bowl. "I want one of the grapes. The big green ones."
You look up from your page, raising an eyebrow at his demanding tone. Instead of picking up the fork, you intentionally take your time, closing your book halfway and setting it down. You lean over the bowl, slowly scanning the fruit as if searching for the absolute perfect grape just to make him wait.
It took a few minutes, and then you finally skewer a large, plump green grape, you lift it up between you. Jason leans in slightly, his eyes locked on the fruit, his mouth open just enough to accept it without disrupting the stiff edges of his hardening facemask.
You flinch in surprise as Jasonβs teeth gently snap down around the grape, intentionally catching the tips of your fingers in the process. He doesn't bite hard enough to hurt, just a playful, sharp nip to catch you off guard, his eyes crinkling at the corners with silent laughter as he pulls back to chew.
"Hey!" you hiss, immediately pulling your hand back and The sudden movement breaks the stiff barrier of your skincare routine, and you feel the hardened mask crack sharply along your jawline and cheeks.
Jason notices immediately. He swallows the grape and lets out a muffled, triumphant laugh that causes his own mask to split across his forehead. "Serves you right for making me wait," he mumbles, his voice entirely unbothered by the fact that pieces of dried clay are now flaking off his face and landing on his shirt. He leans his head back against the pillows, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.
Then you hit his forearm as you made your way to the bathroom to wash off the mask so, leaving Jason reading his book peacefully. Practically not caring that he was making the bed sheets dirty.
Jason would crash at your place after his βwork.β Youβd gotten used to finding him asleep on the couch to not bother you going to the room but you told tell him you like to sleep when he was right by your side, he agrees after a long talk.
He would his jacket thrown over the armrest and his boots abandoned by the door. Most nights, he slept heavily and comfortably embracing you.
Tonight was different. It started as a peaceful slumber then a night mare occupied his mind. His dream came in fragmentsβfaces, places, memories overlapping obver and over again his death the larazus pit , everything and everuone until he couldnβt tell where one ended and another began. Different versions of himself seemed to flash past him, each one carrying the same burden and pain and suffering
Then Jason woke with a sharp gasp.He sat upright, breathing hard. For a few seconds, he didnβt seem to recognize the room.
His hands trembled as he looked around, trying to convince himself that he was awake. His breathing remained uneven, and his eyes quickly filled with tears he couldnβt quite hold back.
You stirred beside him, hearing him gasp out loudly.
"Jason?" He looked over towards you and his composure cracked.
He covered his face, shoulders shaking as quiet sobs escaped him. He tried to turn away, embarrassed that youβd seen him like this.
"Iβm fine," he managed to say, "go back to sleep, hm?"
But it was cracked by muffled sobs you didnt know what to say but reach over to him and hugged him and soothing him while he sobs. Hearing his voice break into those heavy, muffled sobs completely tore at your heart, making any words feel entirely too small for the amount of pain he was in.
You just moved. You reached across the mattress, closing the distance between you, and wrapped your arms tightly around his trembling shoulders.
Jason stiffened for a fraction of a second, his defensive instincts flaring out of habit, trying to push you away or turn his face further into his hands. But you didn't let go. You held on firmly, pulling his heavy frame against you until he finally collapsed into the embrace. His hands clutched desperately at the fabric of your shirt, burying his face into your neck as the dam broke completely.
You rocked him slowly in the quiet darkness of the room, running a soothing hand up and down his back. You pressed your lips gently to his hair, whispering soft words of comforts against his crown while his chest heaved against yours.
"I've got ya Jay," you whispered softly, your hand moving in slow, steady circles against his back. "You're right here with me. You're safe, Jay. I've got you. I love you.."
Jason didn't answer, his grip tightening convulsively on your shirt as another wave of heavy sobs racked his broad shoulders. He buried his face deeper into the crook of your neck, his hot breath and tears dampening your skin.
"I'm sorry," he choked out, his voice completely raw and broken, the words catching painfully in his throat. "I'm so... I didn't mean toβ"
"Shh, don't apologize," you interrupted gently, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his messy hair. "You don't ever have to apologize to me for this."
You continued to rock him gently . Slowly, his heartbeat began to ease, slowly. His grip on your shirt loosened just a fraction, and his heavy frame melting completely into your embrace as utter exhaustion took over.
His breathing slowed, turning into long, deep sighs against your neck until his trembling finally stopped. With his head still resting heavily against your chest, Jason drifted back to sleep, finally finding peace in the safety of your arms.
His hands are always all over you .α.α
The thing about Jason is that he always needs a point of contact with you. For a man whose life is defined by the violence and chaos of Gotham, your warmth comforts him dearly, and his hands are constantly finding ways to stay tethered to you.
When you are walking through the grocery store together, he holds your hand tightly, swinging your joined fingers back and forth as you playfully argue over which snacks to buy.
If you are at the stove cooking dinner, his arm instinctively snakes around your shoulders, pulling you against his side as he leans over your head to inspect whatever is bubbling in the pan.
Even during mundane moments, like standing around waiting for a takeout order, he will casually bump his shoulder against yours just to remind you he is there.
His touch also comforts you whenever you are feeling anxious. The moment he senses your unease, his hand immediately slides down to wrap around yours, his thumb tracing slow, soothing circles against your knuckles until your breathing evens out.
He is really attentive, tooβif your clothes get caught or shift uncomfortably while you walk, he will gently reach over to help straighten the fabric before continuing down the street like nothing happened.
Whether you are wearing a skirt, shorts, or jeans, his hand always finds its placement on your thigh the second the two of you sit down outside. And whenever it is time to leave a place, he always gives your hand one final, lingering squeeze before letting go.
Sometimes, you will catch him looking at you right afterward.
"What is it?" you ask, noticing his gaze.
"You're staring at me, Jay."
Jason just grins, completely unbothered by getting caught. He reaches for your hand again, lifting it to his lips to press a soft kiss against your skin. "Can't I look at my pretty, and smart girlfriend?"
Before you can even reply to his teasing, Jason leans in and presses a soft, lingering kiss directly to your lips. It is a complete shift from his usual cocky grinβgentle, slow, and full of a quiet warmth that always catches you a little off guard.
His free hand moves up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb softly brushing across your cheekbone as if he is handling something incredibly precious.
When he finally pulls back just an inch, his eyes are softened, entirely focused on you. He doesn't immediately let go; instead, he keeps his hand resting against your cheek.
"Come on," he murmurs softly, his thumb giving your cheek one last gentle squeeze before his hand slides down to lock fingers with yours again. He subtly shifts his posture, stepping slightly ahead of you to guide you through the crowd, keeping himself between you and the busy street like it's second nature.
Matching or coordinated fits that make you both look effortlessly cool plus takings pics .α.α
Jason loves to match with you, you didnβt even need to ask, the both of you started matching unknowinglyβmust be a couple thingβ¦even if he pretends he just threw on the first thing he saw. When you head out together, your styles always matched.
Like that one time you pull on a pair of baggy, light-wash denim jeans and wore ballet flats and a fitted, a plain top and a leather jacket .
Jason understood the assignment, He grabs his heavy, beat-up black leather jacket, layering it over a simple white tee and matching baggy grey pants.
The two of you walk through the city, his arm stays wrapped securely around your shoulders. You stop in front of a mirrored storefront, and he pulls you in close against his leather jacket, flashing a rare, cocky smile as you snap a quick picture for the camera roll.
Stealing your boyfriend's clothes was a habit that you started doing . You donβt have anything to wear? Youβll open his side of the closet and use his shirts. You liked doing it specially in the morning hours after spending the night together.
"Jason, come over, let's take a picture," you hummed, your voice still a little soft from sleep.You lifted your phone horizontally, framing the two of you perfectly in the glass.
You were wearing his oversized graphic tee, while Jason stepped up close behind you, entirely shirtless and towering over you.
However, before your thumb can even hit the shutter button to take the photo, Jason disrupts the pose.
He leaned down, burying his face against your neck to press a warm, lingering kiss right along your jawline. His hands immediately found their placement; one large palm slid around your waist, his fingers gripping your hip firmly to pull your back completely flush against his chest, while his other hand rested securely on your thigh.
"Jason, stop!" you giggled, your shoulder rising to shield your neck from his scratchy morning scruff.
"Don't care about that right now, babe" he mumbled into your skin.
"I mean it!" You tried to wiggle out of his grip, but his hold on your hip only tightened playfully. "Let go, Jay !"
"Oh, you want me to let go?" A dangerous, amused spark lit up his eyes in the mirror reflection. Before you could answer, his fingers shifted from a firm grip into a chaotic wiggling motion right against your ribs.
You gasped, a loud, breathless laugh bursting out of you as your knees buckled."Jason, no! Don't you dareβ"He didn't give you a choice.
Hooking his arms around you, he used his weight to intentionally topple both of you backward. You hit the mattress with a soft thud, the phone flying out of your hand and landing somewhere in the tangled sheets.
Jason hovered directly over you, a wicked smirk on his face as his hands immediately found your most ticklish spots."Please! Stop! I give up !" you shrieked, twisting and turning beneath him, your hands uselessly trying to swat his wrists away as tears of laughter pricked your eyes.
"You know..," he muttered beneath his lips, his fingers digging lightly into your sides, keeping you pinned to the mattress."
"You know what?" You gasped for air, your face completely flushed."
"my shirts look better on the floor too." Then leaned in to give you a kiss, maybe it will be a long day for the both of you.
Protecting you from those fuck ass guys.
Jason is a lot of things, but patient with anyone disrespecting you is absolutely not one of them. Growing up on the streets of Gotham gave him a zero-tolerance policy for scum, and the fact that HE ISβ¦Red Hood, could get words when someone disrespects you.
The first time it happened, you were just walking a few paces ahead of him at a local night market while he stopped to pay a vendor.
A couple of sketchy guys cornered you, blocking your path and throwing out disgusting, aggressive catcalls. Before you could even leave immediately , a massive, heavy shadow loomed over you.
Jason didn't say a single word. He just stepped directly between you and them, his eyes dead and freezing cold.
He cracked his knuckles, the sound loud in the sudden silence, and stared them down until their smirks completely vanished. They took one look at his broad shoulders and the sheer promise of violence in his posture and literally stumbled over their own feet trying to run away.
And just asked if you were okay and how you shouldnβt leave his side.
But the most intense time was a few weeks later outside a diner late at night. One drunk, arrogant jerk refused to take no for an answer, actually reaching out to grab your wrist when you tried to walk past him.
You didn't even have time to look or scream, since Jason came on his feet quickly.
In a split second, he had the guyβs wrist twisted behind his back, forcing him to his knees with a sickening crack.
The guyβs buddy tried to throw a punch at Jasonβs face, initiating a full-blown fist fightβwhich was honestly pathetic, because Jason is a trained weapon and this guy was absolute scum. And this was genuinely so pathetic and he dealt with words.
Jason effortlessly dodged the wild swing, ducking low before driving a brutal, heavy hook right into the guy's jaw.
The jerk went down instantly, hitting the pavement like a sack of bricks. Jason didn't even break a sweat. He stepped over the groaning mess, grabbed the collar of the first guy who had touched you, and slammed him against the brick wall.
"If I ever see your face again," Jason hissed, his voice dropping into a terrifying tone that made the guys visibly shake, "they won't find enough of you to bury. Clear?"
The guy nodded frantically, tears welling in his eyes from pure terror. Jason dropped him like trash, entirely unbothered, and immediately turned back to you.
The guy nodded frantically, tears welling in his eyes from pure terror. Jason dropped him like trash, entirely unbothered, and immediately turned back to you. With a murderous glare completely melted off his face the second his eyes landed on you.
He rushed over, his large hands gently cupping your face, his fingers searching for any scratches. "Did he hurt you? You okay?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft, sweet, and frantic with worry.
Once you assured him you were fine, he pulled you into a tight, crushing hug, pressing a fierce kiss to the top of your head while the jerks scrambled away in the background.
Jason's grip on your hand is incredibly tight, almost white-knuckled, as the two of you walk away from the diner.
You can feel the adrenaline still pulsing through his veins. His broad shoulders are tense, set in a rigid line, and his eyes are still scanning the dark alleyways, his jaw clenched so hard you can see the muscle ticking.
You know exactly what just happened. If you hadn't been standing right there, those guys wouldn't have just walked away with a few broken bones and bruises.
Jason could have killed them on the spot without blinking.
"Jay," you say softly, pulling back gently on his hand to slow his frantic pace. "Jason, stop for a second. Look at me."
He halts, turning his body toward you, but his eyes are still darting around. You step closer, placing your free hand flat against his chest, right over his racing heart. You feel the heavy, thudding rhythm against your palm. You begin to trace slow, deliberate circles over his shirt, using the same soothing touch he always uses to ground you when you're anxious.
"I'm okay. See? I'm right here," you whisper, looking up into his tense face. "You protected me. You got them away from me. But it's over now. You can let it go."
Jason stares down at you, his chest heaving as he takes a deep, ragged breath.
The rigid tension drains from his posture, and his tight grip on your fingers softens into a gentle, lingering squeeze. He leans his forehead down against yours, closing his eyes as he lets out a long, shuddering sigh, utterly relieved that you are safe in his arms.
Motorcycle rides just to go get burgers .α.α
You look up at him, your fingers still tracing the warm skin of his back as you give him your best pleading look. "Jason, can we go ride out? Please?" you begged him.
Jason lets out a low rumble of a laugh, his lips brushing against your jawline again before he pulls back just enough to look down at you. He tries to look firm, but the fond glint in his eyes completely gives him away. "Itβs freezing outside, and youβre currently wearing nothing but my t-shirt," he points out, though a lazy smirk is already playing on his lips.
"But I want burgers," you counter, leaning into his chest. "And I want to go fast."
That does it. Jason defeats easily when it comes to youβand food. "Fine," he groans playfully, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. "But you're bundling up. I'm talking heavy socks, jeans, and my backup leather jacket. I'm not letting my girlfriend freeze on the back of my bike."
Ten minutes later, the lazy apartment aesthetic is replaced by heavy layers. You are securely zipped into a jacket that smells deeply of him, your helmet clicking into place. Jason leads you down to the garage, his sleek, dark motorcycle gleaming under the fluorescent lights. The engine roars to life with a powerful, deep rumble that vibrates right through your chest.
Jason mounts the bike, kicking the stand back, and looks over his shoulder at you. "Hop on."
You climb onto the seat behind him, immediately sliding your arms around his waist. Even through the thick leather of his jacket, you lock your fingers together tightly, pressing your chest flat against his broad back. Jason reaches down with one gloved hand, giving your joined fingers a firm, reassuring squeezeβhis favorite point of contactβbefore gripping the handlebars.
"Hold on tight," he calls back over the roar of the engine.
With a twist of his wrist, the bike shoots out of the garage and into the cool Gotham evening. The wind whips past you in a blur of city lights, the adrenaline making you squeeze him just a little tighter.
Jason pulls the motorcycle into the gravel parking lot of a retro, neon-lit burger joint on the edge of the district.
The engine dies with a deep, sputtering purr, leaving only the hum of the overhead lights. Before you can even reach for your straps, Jason is already off the bike. He steps up close, his gloved hands reaching out to unclip your helmet. He slides it off gently, shaking his head with a smirk at your messy helmet hair before leaning down to press a warm, lingering kiss right onto your forehead.
"Told you it'd be freezing," he teases, rubbing his hands up and down your leather-clad arms to warm you up.
He grabs your handβfinger locked tightly in hisβand pulls you inside. The place is empty except for an older guy flipping patties behind the counter. Jason orders for both of you, paying in crumpled cash, and you collapse into a vinyl booth
The food comes out hot, wrapped in greasy paper: massive, juicy cheesecakes and a mountain of salty crinkle-cut fries. The two of you eat quickly, talking in quiet bursts, sharing fries, and laughing as Jason tries to explain a ridiculous argument he had with Dick earlier in the week.
Once the food is gone, Jason doesn't immediately move to head back home. He looks out the window at the darkening Gotham skyline, a thoughtful look crossing his face. "Come on," he says, pulling his gloves back on. "I want to show you something."
You ride out again, but this time, he avoids the highway leading back to your apartment. Instead, the bike climbs a steep, winding access road, leaving the neon noise of the city streets behind. The air gets sharper and colder until he finally kills the engine at the edge of an abandoned, structurally sound railway overlook.
When you take off your helmet, the view steals your breath. The entirety of Gotham is spread out below you like a massive grid of glowing amber, yellow, blue, and white lights, reflecting off the dark, glassy water of the river. Itβs beautiful, quiet, and completely removed from the chaos down below.
Jason walks up behind you, wrapping his arms securely around your waist and pulling your back against his chest. He rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath warm against your neck. "I come up here sometimes" he murmurs quietly, his fingers squeezing yours. "Wanted to bring you. Happy girl, happy life, right?"
Him and his βworkβ life .α.α
Jason knows exactly how much you worry about him. He knows that every time he puts on the Red Hood helmet and disappears into the Gotham night, your chest tightens with anxiety.
You lose sleep torturing yourself with terrifying what-if scenariosβfearing heβll get brutally hurt, or worse, that he won't make it back to you at all. And Jason harbors that exact same paralyzing fear for you. He knows that the world full of shady underworld dealings and violent enemies, and the thought of anyone targeting you just to get to him keeps him up at night.
Because he is "legally unemployed" and spends his nights running around as a vigilante, he has to find creative, quiet ways to remind you that he's alive and thinking of you.
When he is out on patrol, perched on some freezing Gotham rooftop, heβll pull out his phone just to send you a quick, completely out-of-context text to ease your mind.
"Saw a stray cat and dog out together, gave them food. Still alive, don't worry."
"Iβm still here, I love yaβ¦miss you tooβ¦hope you are sleeping well.
"Just passed that bakery you like. Iβll be home soon, princess."
The next morning, youβll wake up to find flowers sitting next to your bed side table. Next to it will be a messy, handwritten sticky note in his jagged handwriting: Saw them and thought of my girl. Love you. I always think about you every night.
The Bat-family knows absolutely everything, even when Jason tries his best to keep his private life away from them. They havenβt met you in person yetβJason is way too protective to drag you into their family dynamic just yetβbut they definitely know you exist.
Tim and Dick notice the subtle changes first. During intense briefing sessions at the Batcave, Jason will suddenly glance down at his phone, his rough, scarred face softening into a tiny, genuine smile as he reads a text from you.
"Awhh, Look at him," Dick will whisper loudly to Tim, leaning against the Batcomputer with a massive smirk. "The big, scary Red Hood is blushing at his phone again. Who knew Gotham's most ruthless vigilante had a soft spot?"
Jason immediately snaps his phone shut, his glare returning instantly. "Shut the hell up, Dick. Focus on the mission before I throw a flashbang at your head."
Even Bruce notices how much more relaxed Jason has been lately, his posture less rigid, his temper a tad bit more controlled. They tease him relentlessly about being a lovesick boyfriend, but deep down, they are all quietly relieved that he finally has someone n, keeping him safe from his own self.
But the reality of loving a vigilante caught up to you one terrifying rainy night.
You were sitting on the couch, jumping at every sound, when a heavy, uncoordinated thud hit your window. You rushed over and pushed it open, gasping as Jason practically collapsed through the frame. He was completely banged up, bleeding heavily from a nasty gash along his ribs, his face bruised and swollen under his cracked helmet. He had been jumped by a crew using advanced weaponry, and he was running entirely on adrenaline.
"Hey, hey, I'm okay," he croaked out, his voice weak and raspy as he staggered into the room, leaning heavily against the wall. "Just... took a bad hit. Had to shake 'em before I came here."
You were absolutely terrified. Your hands were shaking so violently you could barely open the medical kit he kept hidden under the couch. Tears blurred your vision as you forced him onto a chair, immediately peeling back his ruined shirt to inspect the damage. You had never done this before. Seeing his blood on your hands made your heart race so fast you felt sick to your stomach, your worst nightmare staring you right in the face.
"Jason, you're bleeding so much," you sobbed quietly, your fingers trembling as you wiped a bloody cloth across his chest. "I can't... I don't know how to do this.β¦?"
Despite being the one in agonizing pain, Jason immediately reached up with a bloody, un-gloved hand, gently grasping your wrist to steady you. He looked up through his swollen eyes, his expression incredibly sweet and comforting.
"Look at me, princess. Take a breath," he murmured, his voice softening completely as he tried to calm your panic. "You're doing great. It's just a couple of stitches. Guide the needle right through here. I'm right here with you. I'm not going to die."
Holding your breath, you forced your hands to steady, guided entirely by his gentle, encouraging voice. As you carefully stitched his skin back together, he didn't make a sound just to help you not panic and was completely focused on keeping you calm.
When you finally finished and taped the bandage down, you collapsed against his uninjured shoulder, crying out all the built-up terror from the night. Jason wrapped his strong arms around you, pulling you into his lap and holding you tight against his chest, murmuring endless apologies for scaring you until you both finally drifted off to sleep.
The next morning, the smell of fresh coffee and sizzling bacon wakes you up. You blink your eyes open to find Jason sitting on the edge of the bed, carefully balancing a homemade breakfast tray on his lap. He looks like absolute hellβhis eye is bruised purple, his jaw is swollen, and he moves with a stiff winceβbut he is sporting a soft, proud smirk.
"Morning, ma," he murmurs, his voice low and raspy. He places the tray over your lap, leaning down to press a gentle, careful kiss to your lips. "Figured it was the least I could do after making you play medic last night." He jokingly said and chuckled.
It is incredibly sweet, and for an hour, you let yourself relax. He feeds you a piece of toast, lets you trace the fresh bandages on his ribs, and his scars while he keeps his hand resting warmly on your thigh.
The second he finishes eating, Jason starts shifting restlessly. He carefully swings his legs out of bed, groaning under his breath as his stitched-up side pulls painfully. He reaches for his heavy black boots by the door.
"What do you think you're doing?" you ask, your voice instantly flattening.
"Just checking my gear," Jason says casually, not making eye contact as he reaches for his leather jacket. "The crew that jumped me last nightβthey're still out there. I need to go finish the job before they move locations. Oracle gave me a ping."
He actually thinks he's leaving.
"Yeah, no. Absolutely not happening," you say, snapping at him and sliding out of bed. You march right over, snatching his leather jacket straight out of his hands before he can slide his arms into the sleeves.
"Princess, come on," Jason groans, reaching for the jacket, but his face contorts in pain as the movement tugs at the fresh stitches you spent an hour crying over last night. "I'm fine. I've gone out with worse than this."
"I don't care about your past record, Todd," you say, placing your hands firmly on his uninjured shoulder and pushing him back onto the bed. "You bled all over my floor, you almost passed out in my arms, and your stitches will literally rip open the second you throw a punch. You are staying right here."
Jason stares up at you, completely stunned by your stubbornness. For a second, the dangerous, defiant Red Hood looks like he wants to argue, his jaw clenching tightly. But as he looks at the worried look in your eyes, his broad shoulders slowly deflate. A lazy, defeated grin breaks through his bruised face.
"You're bossy when you're protective, you know that?" he mumbles, letting himself sink back against the pillows. He reaches out, grabbing your wrist and pulling you down onto the mattress right beside him. He wraps his heavy arms securely around your waist, trapping you against his chest so you can't get up either.
Written by Jammy. Please do not copy and paste or feed my work into an AI. This was completely written by me, thank you for stopping by and reading!
