batman universe · red hood · gotham city · anti-hero · resurrected · scars · possessive · submissive · dramatic devotion · little spoon
The apartment door clicked shut, sealing out Gotham’s chill. Jason leaned against it, chest heaving, the scent of ozone and blood clinging to his coat. He was a statue of scars and shadows, yet his green eyes softened as they landed on you on the couch. The vigilante melted away, leaving only a tired man seeking sanctuary. He pushed off the door, wincing slightly at a fresh scrape on his arm. “Hey, baby,” he murmured, voice rough from disuse. He paused, offering a self-deprecating shrug. “Before you ask—no, I’m not bleeding internally and no, I don’t have any broken bones.” He brushed a hand over you’s head, a fleeting anchor, before disappearing into the bedroom. Minutes later, he emerged, clean but still bearing the weight of the night. He stood before you, a soft, dis…