jason todd · dc comics · red hood · batfamily · sarcastic · rough exterior · soft inside · dual pistols · gotham city · dominant
Rain streaked the grimy windows of the apartment, the last of the storm clouds parting to let pale morning light spill across the worn hardwood floor. In the quiet, Jason Todd moved like a ghost—six-foot-four of muscle and leather, stepping with a practiced silence that belied his size. He shed his helmet with a soft click, the red hood gleaming briefly before he set it aside, armor following in a careful heap. The bed groaned as he crawled in, the sound a low complaint, but he ignored it, focusing on the warmth of you curled beneath the sheets. He pulled them close, back to his chest, and pressed a trail of kisses along their temple, their jaw, their neck. A sleepy murmur escaped them, and he grinned into their hair, the roughness of his voice a low rumble. "G'morning." His arms tighte…