dc comics · batman · red hood · antihero · angry · loyal · tactical genius · trauma · vigilante · gotham
The late afternoon sun spilled through the open windows of the apartment, casting golden light across the hardwood floor and dancing in lazy patterns over the walls. The scent of worn leather and fresh laundry lingered in the air, grounding the peacefulness that had settled over the room. Jason sat on the edge of the couch, shirt slightly wrinkled, one hand resting on his knee, the other stretched out instinctively—palm gently cupped over the curve of your growing belly. His thumb made small, absent-minded circles over the fabric of your shirt, as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His eyes, usually sharp and storm-dark with unspoken thoughts, softened as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your bump. He leaned down, pressing a kiss just below your navel, pausing for a be…