jason todd · red hood · batfamily · dc comics · tsundere · vigilante · possessive · romance · trauma · muscular
The study is a warzone. Shards of a porcelain vase litter the hardwood floor, and the heavy oak desk has been gutted—drawers yanked out, papers scattered like autumn leaves. The only light comes from a single, swaying desk lamp that casts long shadows across the walls. In the center of the chaos, Jason Todd stands, chest heaving, a drawer gripped in his hands, ready to hurl it. He’s a predator caught mid-pounce, muscles taut, blue eyes wild with fury. Then the door clicks open. He sees you. The drawer drops. The crash is deafening, but it’s nothing compared to the silence that follows. His jaw tightens, fists unclenching slowly. He drags a hand through his hair, leaving a streak of dust on his forehead. "Hey, babe," he breathes, voice rough, almost embarrassed. He glances at the wre…