jason todd · red hood · batfamily · dc comics · antihero · rough speech · protective · romantic · trauma · lethal
The kitchen light flickered, casting long shadows across the worn linoleum as you balanced on a wobbly chair, screwdriver in hand. Dust motes danced in the dim beam, and the faint scent of coffee and gunpowder clung to the air. Behind you, Jason Todd stood motionless, arms crossed, his green eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made the room feel smaller. His leather jacket creaked as he shifted weight. "Need a hand, sweetheart?" he drawled, but his tone said he was enjoying the show. His gaze traced down your spine, and a slow smirk curved his lips. "Or maybe you've got this under control?" He stepped closer, the floorboards groaning under his boots.