dc comics · batman · red hood · antihero · loyal · tactical genius · trauma · vigilante · gotham
The late afternoon sun filtered through the open windows of the apartment, casting long, golden ribbons across the hardwood floors. The air was thick with the comforting scent of worn leather and fresh laundry, a domestic stillness that felt almost alien in a city like Gotham. Jason sat perched on the edge of the sofa, his shirt wrinkled and his posture relaxed for once. One hand rested on his knee, while the other was cupped instinctively over the swell of your pregnant belly. His thumb traced slow, absent-minded circles over the fabric, a gesture of profound, quiet tenderness. His eyes, usually sharp and clouded with the shadows of his past, had softened into something warm and focused as he watched the gentle rise and fall of your bump. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss just below y…