mare👑

“Nice try, kitten,” he’d growled, voice distorted through the helmet. “But this city’s got enough stray cats causing trouble.”

You’d fought then — a blur of acrobatics and precision against his raw power. You were faster, slipping through his grasp like smoke. He was stronger, relentless, refusing to let you disappear into the night. In the end, you’d escaped with the necklace, but not before he’d left a bruise on your ribs and a strange, electric tension in the air between you.

From that night on, it became a chase.

You’d plan a heist. He’d show up. You’d tease him with a smirk and a clever escape. He’d growl threats and pursue you across rooftops, the city lights blurring beneath you both. Sometimes you won. Sometimes he did. But neither of you ever really tried to end it.

It was almost like a game.

A dangerous, addictive game.

The night everything changed started like any other.

You were on the roof of an old art gallery in the Diamond District, the wind whipping through your sleek black suit as you disabled the security system with a few careful flicks of your tools. The target was a stolen artifact — a ancient cat statue that belonged in a museum, not the private collection of a mob boss. Selina had tipped you off. You were almost done when the familiar weight of his presence settled behind you.

“Stealing again, kitten?” Jason’s voice was low, rough, like gravel under boots. “Thought we talked about this.”

You didn’t turn around immediately. Instead, you finished securing the statue in your bag, a small smile playing on your lips. “We did. You talked. I listened. Then I decided I didn’t care.”

You spun then, leaping gracefully to the next rooftop. He followed without hesitation, the chase beginning like it always did — exhilarating, heart-pounding, a dance of shadows and sparks. You were faster on your feet, slipping through narrow alleys and across fire escapes. He was relentless, cutting you off with calculated jumps, forcing you to improvise.

But tonight, something felt different.

The rain started halfway through the chase, slicking the rooftops and making every leap a little more dangerous. You landed hard on a wet ledge, slipping slightly, and Jason was there in an instant — catching your arm before you could fall, pulling you against his chest with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs.

For a moment, you were pressed together, rain pouring down around you, his helmet inches from your face. You could feel the heat of him through the armor, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his grip on your arm was firm but not bruising.

“You’re going to get yourself killed one day,” he growled, voice distorted but still unmistakably his. “And I’m not going to be there to catch you every time.”

You looked up at the blank black domino mask, heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the chase. “Then maybe you should stop chasing me.”

He didn’t let go. His hand slid from your arm to your waist, holding you there on the ledge as the rain soaked through both your suits. The city lights blurred below, the world narrowing to just the two of you — enemies, rivals, something neither of you had named yet.

“I can’t,” he said, voice quieter now. “I’ve tried. You’re under my skin, kitten. And I don’t know what to do about it.”

The tension snapped.

You kissed him first — impulsive, desperate, the rain mixing with the taste of him as your hands fisted in the front of his jacket. He froze for half a second, then kissed you back like he’d been starving for it, one hand cupping the back of your neck while the other pressed into your lower back, pulling you flush against him. The kiss was messy, urgent, full of all the frustration and want that had been building for months.

When you finally broke apart, both breathing hard, he rested his forehead against your own, white eyes through the mask unreadable.

“I shouldn’t want this,” he said, voice rough. “You’re everything I’m supposed to stop. But I can’t stop thinking about you. Can’t stop chasing you. Can’t stop wanting you.”

You smiled, small and breathless, fingers tracing the edge of his helmet. “Then don’t stop.”

He kissed you again — slower this time, deeper, like he was savoring every second. The rain kept falling, but neither of you cared. In that moment, on a rain-slicked rooftop in the middle of Gotham, the line between enemy and something more finally blurred beyond recognition.

And for the first time in years, Jason Todd felt like he wasn’t alone in the dark.

The days after that rooftop kiss were a strange, beautiful chaos.

You still stole. He still chased. But the chases ended differently now - with stolen kisses in alleyways, with his hands on your waist as he pressed you against brick walls, with whispered confessions between breaths.

He started showing up at your apartment after patrols, helmet off, armour scuffed, looking at you like you were the only real thing in his world. You’d patch him up, fingers gentle on his scars, and he’d pull you into his lap, kissing you like he couldn’t get enough.

One night, after a particularly long chase that ended with both of you laughing on a rooftop, he held you close, arms wrapped around your waist as the city lights twinkled below.

“I don’t know what this is,” he admitted quietly. “But I don’t want it to stop. You make the night feel less heavy. Make me feel like I’m more than just the Red Hood.”

You leaned back against his chest, smiling. “You are. You’re Jason. My Jason. The one who chases me across rooftops and kisses me like the world might end tomorrow. And I don’t want it to stop either.”

He turned you in his arms, kissing you slow and deep, hands sliding under your suit to trace warm paths along your skin. The touch was possessive but gentle, full of all the want he didn’t know how to put into words.

When he pulled back, forehead against yours, he whispered, “Stay with me tonight. Not for the chase. Just… stay.”

You nodded, kissing him once more. “I’m not going anywhere.”

In the quiet dark of his apartment, with Jason’s arms around you and his heartbeat steady under your ear, the rivalry that had defined you both finally felt like the beginning of something better.

Something that felt a lot like home.