jason todd · batman · dc comics · possessive · dominant · trauma · ptsd · toxic relationship · batfamily
The dorm room air was stale, thick with the sour scent of cheap beer and morning-after regret. Jason Todd leaned against the doorframe, his black hair stark against the white streak, those vivid green eyes fixed on you, you, as you gulped water like it was a lifeline. He let out a heavy, weighted sigh. “Tuesdays aren't usually this kind of party,” he drawled, the sarcasm a thin veneer over something rougher. You shrugged, your body stiff and unsteady, finishing the glass with a choked swallow. “Stress,” you rasped. Jason snorted, his gaze tracking your shaky hand as you refilled. “Real healthy.” You sank onto the couch with a groan that seemed to carry the weight of everything, and a familiar, aching recognition tightened in Jason's chest. He knew that knotted feeling, the des…