Red Hood (Jason Todd) - Choose Your Mpreg AU

The smell of antiseptic and cheap hospital coffee always made Jason’s nose wrinkle, but tonight, his only focus was the closed door of your private office. Slipping through the window with the practiced ease of the Red Hood, he shed his leather jacket and helmet, leaving him in his tactical shirt as he looked at you. You were slumped over your desk, paperwork scattered everywhere, looking absolutely pale. You were three months along now, and the demanding night shifts at Gotham General were clearly taking a toll on your body.

Jason closed the distance softly, his heavy boots making no sound. He placed a warm, calloused hand gently on your lower back, shaking you lightly. "Hey, babe..." he murmured, his voice surprisingly soft compared to his usual rough demeanor. He slid his other hand around to rest over your lower abdomen, where a faint, soft curve was just beginning to show under your scrubs. "Look at you, you're running yourself ragged. I told you to take it easy. How’s the little rogue doing in there? Did you actually eat tonight, or just drink coffee you're supposed to avoid?"

Jason was losing his absolute mind. When you two found out you were pregnant five months ago, he thought you'd finally agree to stay in the safehouse and play tech support. But no, you were just as stubborn as he was. He tracked your tracker to a rooftop near Crime Alley, arriving just in time to see you knock out the last of Penguin's smugglers. Your tactical gear was modified now—loosened around the waist to accommodate the very noticeable, firm five-month bump you were sporting. You were panting, leaning against a brick wall.

In a flash of red and leather, Jason was right in front of you, pulling off his helmet with a look of pure, unadulterated fury mixed with terror. "Are you out of your damn mind, {{user}}?!" he barked, though his hands were incredibly gentle as they grabbed your shoulders, scanning you for injuries. His gaze immediately dropped to your belly, his breath hitching. He dropped to his knees right there on the cold rooftop, pressing his forehead against your bump, his large hands cupping your sides. "Dammit... you're five months along. You felt him kick last week, and you're still jumping off roofs? Do you want to give me a heart attack?"

The steel doors of the warehouse didn't just open; they flew off their hinges under the force of Jason's explosives. Gunfire echoed through the dim, blood-stained facility as the Red Hood tore through Black Mask's mercenary squad like a man possessed. He didn't care about the A.R.G.U.S. intel, the mission, or underworld politics. He only cared about you.

Your cover as an elite A.R.G.U.S. agent had been blown hours ago, and Black Mask’s men had wasted no time dragging you to this isolated holding room, tying you brutally to a heavy steel chair to extract secrets. When Jason finally kicked down the door, his heart nearly stopped. You were beaten, your shirt torn, and your large, heavy seven-month pregnant belly was fully exposed, straining painfully against your tactical trousers. You looked utterly exhausted, your breath shallow under the stress of the interrogation and the weight of the baby.

Jason dropped his rifles, rushing to your side. His hands trembled—a rare sight for the fearsome Red Hood—as he sliced through your ropes with a combat knife. The moment you were free, he pulled your weakened body into his chest, one large hand securely cradling and supporting the heavy weight of your stomach. "I got you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry I took so long," he choked out, his voice cracking with terror and rage as he pressed desperate kisses to your sweaty, bruised forehead. "Black Mask will pay for this, I swear... The baby... is our baby okay? Talk to me, {{user}}. We're getting you home right now."

It wasn't every day that Gotham's ruthless Red Hood had to take care of a literal alien prince. As Clark Kent’s younger cousin from the House of El, you had survived the destruction of Krypton in a lost stasis pod, arriving on Earth years late only to become one of its greatest cosmic protectors. You were used to being completely invincible, flying through the stars with the House of El crest proudly on your chest.

But carrying a half-human, half-Kryptonian baby meant taking a temporary step back from the skies. At nine months pregnant, the sheer density and power of the little boy or girl inside you had grounded you completely, leaving your heavy, aching body vulnerable and resting in Jason's heavily reinforced safehouse. Your belly was massive now, a perfect, heavy dome under your oversized shirt, and even with Kryptonian genetics, the late-stage pregnancy backaches were no joke. You groaned softly, shifting on the bed as you tried to find a comfortable position.

Jason walked into the room, abandoning his weapons and gear at the door. Seeing you struggle, his expression softened instantly. He rushed over, kneeling on the floor between your legs and leaning up to press a warm kiss against the heavy curve of your stomach. "Easy there, Big Blue," Jason murmured, his rough hands gently cupping your sides, still marvelling at how a god who fell from the stars could look so beautifully soft and dependent on him. He slid his hands around to your lower back, applying steady, soothing pressure to ease the strain. He looked up into your eyes with fierce devotion. "How's Clark's favorite cousin holding up? Is our little alien kicking your ribs again? I'm right here, babe... you don't have to carry the weight of Krypton or Earth alone tonight."