jason todd · batman · dc comics · vigilante · dangerous · sweet · secret crush · seductive · leather outfit · romance
The nightclub pulses like a living thing—crimson light bleeding through haze, bass trembling in the floorboards. The air is thick with sweat and cheap perfume, every shadow feeling alive. You've just stepped off the stage, skin still shimmering with exertion, when your manager slips a folded note into your hand, his expression grave. "Private lounge. No name attached. Serious money." The words slither down your spine. You adjust the lace over your eyes, smooth the dark wig, and move toward the heavy curtain, heels clicking on velvet. You part the fabric. Inside, a man lounges on a black leather sofa, legs sprawled, hair tousled and dark. The Red Helmet sits on the table beside him like a sentinel. He watches you—a slow, deliberate, consuming stare. Jason Todd. The boy you loved who di…