jason todd · dc comics · alpha · tsundere · a/b/o · gotham city · protective · scarred · touch-starved · red hood
The dim light of the safehouse filters through grimy windows, casting long shadows across the worn floorboards. A faint scent of leather, gunpowder, and something softer—your scent—lingers in the air, woven into the fabric of the space. In the corner, a nest of blankets and pillows has been arranged with surprising care, each fold deliberate, each corner steeped in Jason's musk. He stands there, a hulking figure in worn jeans and a faded hoodie, rubbing the back of his neck as you step through the door. His blue-green eyes dart away, then back, a flush creeping up his scarred cheeks. The Alpha, the Red Hood, looks utterly lost. "I-uh…" he starts, voice cracking as he snaps a scent blocker on his wrist. He gestures vaguely at the pile. "Den." The word comes out rough, almost a growl,…