-♡𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐬♡-
Jason Todd x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: You LOVE Valentine’s Day. You’ve always enjoyed the fact of having someone to love and getting to express that with gifts! But..Jason Todd HATES Valentine’s Day. He knows how much you love it but he can’t seem to figure how to make it special for you.
|Authors Note|: first story kinda nervous..might delete later lowk. also this is part one. more you and jayjay to come soon bby :p
Valentine’s Day had always been your favorite time of year. The soft pinks and reds taking over storefronts, heart shaped candy stacked too high on shelves, the excuse to be unapologetically romantic for twenty-four straight hours—it felt like Gotham was leaning into something sweet, and you loved that.
But this year was different.
This year, you had someone to share it with.
Jason Todd.
Your boyfriend.
And not just any Valentine’s Day—your first one together.
Which would have been perfect… if Jason Todd didn’t so openly hate the holiday.
He had called it “a corporate scam wrapped in glitter and emotional manipulation” like he was stating a fact instead of an opinion.
You told him he was dramatic.
He rolled his eyes every time you pointed out heart shaped displays in shop windows. But he never actually pulled you away. Never cut you off when you talked about why you loved it.
Instead, he stayed quiet.
Listening.
Pretending he didn’t care, even though it was slightly obvious that he did.
𝐌𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞..
“Damian— WHY would we do a sparring classes?!”
Jason was scrambling.
His siblings? No help.
“Oh, I’m sorry Todd, I didn’t know I was your relationship counselor now.” Damian spat before rolling his eyes and observing with disdain while the other guys play ‘Mortal Combat’
“You guys don’t understand. This is Y/N we’re talking about. Like, the ‘I love Valentine’s Day’ Y/N.” Jason says desperately while looking at their unwavering concentration on the TV.
Dick scoffs while spamming the controller, “We know. It’s all we’ve heard since February 1st.”
Tim jumps in, “Jason, have you even tried.. I dunno— Asking her these questions?”
“Tim are you fucking insane?! This means so much to her and if I don’t deliver—“ Jason rants before Tim lets out a groan at losing yet another match to Dick.
“You know, you can always try my idea..” Dick says with a shrug as he stands up, tossing the controller on the couch.
“Wow. Really? Thanks, Dick.” Jason said sarcastically before plastering on a knowingly fake smile.
“Wow. That’s— WHEW— That’s hilarious, Jay. I’ve literally never heard that one before.” Dick laughed before letting the smile drop from his face.
Damian, not bothering to look up from his book, “Why ask us for advice if none of it’s good enough?”
Tim points at Damian and agrees, “Yeah! Or sometimes it’s even, ‘too cringe’.” He said with air quotes.
Jason grabs the TV remote and turns it off, losing all of their game progress.
A pause.
Dick and Tim’s eyes both widen as they glance at the TV before looking back at Jason.
“You.. are so dead.” Dick says quietly before Tim lunges forwards onto Jason.
Dick vaults over the couch, accidentally kicking Damian’s book out of his hand, ripping a page.
“Sorry Dami..” Dick says quickly with a cheeky laugh before chasing after Jason who’s run off into the manor.
Damian jumps up off the couch in bewilderment, before launching himself after Dick.
The boys chase each other around the entire manor.
For about ten minutes..
Before they end up in the wealthy dining room. The dining table is long. Jason is at one end while Dick is at the other.
“This wouldn’t be happening if you guys had just helped me!” Jason huffed and yelled with a slight smile.
Dick groans, “We DID! You just hated every idea because all you do is complain!” He chuckled and yelled back across.
Jason plants his hands on the polished wood and jumps onto the table like a man who has officially lost his patience.
“Say that again,” he challenges.
Dick gasps dramatically. “You would disrespect Alfred’s table like this?”
“I’m desperate,” Jason shoots back.
Dick mirrors him by climbing up onto the other end.
Chaos ensues.
Until.
The dining room doors swing open before Dick can fire back.
Laughter spills in first.
Then heels.
Then shopping bags.
The girls step into the room like a Valentine’s Day commercial — pink tissue paper, heart-shaped boxes, glitter peeking out of bags.
Stephanie stops mid-step.
Cass tilts her head.
Barbara slowly lowers her sunglasses.
You freeze beside them.
Jason is standing on one end of the absurdly long dining table.
Dick is on the other.
There is a chair knocked over.
A decorative bowl is on the floor.
Tim is on the floor with Damian on top of him, holding one of his ‘birdarangs’ to Tim’s throat.
Silence.
“…Are we interrupting?” Stephanie asks sweetly.
Damian quickly pockets his birdarang since Jason hadn’t broken the news to you.
Dick straightens immediately. “No… We’re.. uh— collaborating.”
Jason points at him. “You are the last person on earth I should’ve asked.”
Dick throws his hands up. “I was being helpful!”
“Helpful?” Jason scoffs. “You gave me advice straight out of a middle school group chat.”
“At least I have experience.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
You clear your throat.
Jason’s head snaps toward you instantly. And the scowl? Gone. Evaporated.
He hops down from the table like he was never feral two seconds ago.
“You’re back early,” he mutters, trying to play it cool while brushing imaginary dust off his sleeves.
Barbara lifts one of the shopping bags.
“We got ingredients.”
Cass holds up a heart-shaped baking pan.
Stephanie beams. “We’re making Valentine’s pastries.”
Tim wheezes from the floor.
“For the record,” he says, completely unbothered despite the blade at his throat, “this is not how normal families react to baking.”
Damian presses the birdarang closer — not enough to hurt, just enough to be dramatic.
“Silence, Drake. Your incompetence is what led to this chaos.”
“I suggested communication.”
“You suggested mediocrity.”
Stephanie blinks.
“…Are we just ignoring that?”
Cass tilts her head slightly. “They’re fine.”
Tim raises a hand weakly. “I’m not fine.”
Jason drags a hand down his face. “Why is he on the floor?”
Dick answers immediately, “He said something condescending.”
Tim scoffs. “It was constructive criticism.”
Damian narrows his eyes. “You smirked.”
“You always smirk.”
Barbara steps forward calmly. “Damian. Put the sharp object down.”
Damian looks down at him and removes it, “You’re lucky.” He stands up and pockets his birdarang.
Tim dusts off his shirt like he wasn’t just seconds from a dramatic demise.
“See? Growth. We resolved that peacefully.”
“You were pinned to the floor,” Stephanie says, already walking toward the kitchen.
Barbara hooks her arm through hers. “Ingredients. Now.”
Cass slips past silently.
Damian gives Tim one last unimpressed look before following.
“Try not to provoke me again, Drake.”
“You’re provoked by oxygen.” Tim says as he follows with some space between him and Damian
And just like that, the girls funnel into the kitchen — laughter echoing down the hall, cabinet doors opening, the sound of bags rustling.
You start to follow.
Then pause.
You glance back.
Jason’s still standing near the end of the long dining table, arms crossed, pretending he isn’t watching you leave.
You step back toward him instead.
He looks down at you immediately. “You forget something?”
“Maybe.”
Your voice is softer now. The house noise feels far away.
“I have a surprise for you,” you say quietly.
His brows knit slightly. “For what.”
You roll your eyes. “You know what.”
He exhales through his nose, pretending he doesn’t.
“It’s not until tomorrow,” he says.
“Exactly,” you smile. “You have to wait until Saturday.”
There’s the faintest pause.
His jaw shifts slightly like he wants to ask something but won’t.
“…You didn’t have to,” he mutters.
“I wanted to.”
His expression doesn’t change much. It never does.
But there’s a tiny, almost guilty curve at the corner of his mouth.
Small. Soft. Like he’s trying not to show it.
“You’re too excited about this holiday,” he says quietly.
“I know.”
He studies you for a second longer than necessary.
“You’re smiling,” you point out.
“No I’m not.”
“You are.”
He looks away. “…Shut up.”
You lean up and press a quick, warm kiss to his lips.
It’s soft. Private. Meant only for him.
When you pull back, his hand almost lifts like he’s going to pull you back in. Reluctantly, he stops himself.
“Saturday,” you whisper with a wink.
“Yeah,” he replies, low.
Then you slip away toward the kitchen.
The moment the door swings shut behind you, the noise of the girls takes over — laughter, one of the boys already arguing about frosting colors.
Jason stays where he is.
Staring at the empty doorway.
The faint smile fades.
His shoulders drop slightly.
Defeated.
Because he doesn’t have anything.
No surprise. No plan. No gift.
He drags a hand through his hair.
From behind him—
“So,” Dicks voice cuts in casually, “madly in love and nothing prepared?”
Jason doesn’t turn around. “Shut up.”
Dick leans against a column, smirking. “You look stressed.”
“I’m not stressed.”
“You look stressed.”
Jason finally glares at them. “I’ve got it handled.”
Tim raises a brow. “You absolutely do not.”
Jason clenches his jaw.
Dick pushes off the column, clapping a hand on Jason’s shoulder. “Relax. We’ll help you.”
Jason shrugs him off immediately. “I don’t need help.”
Tim and Dick exchange a look.
“You asked earlier,” Tim says lightly.
Jason points at him. “If you repeat that sentence, I’m finishing what he started.”
Damian’s voice echoes faintly from the kitchen doorway. “You are already failing.”
Jason exhales.
He looks back toward the kitchen.
Soft laughter filters out again.
His expression shifts — not panic. Not fear.
Just quiet determination.
“…I’ll figure it out,” he mutters to himself.
And for once?
He means it.