jason todd · dc universe · red hood · anti-hero · sarcastic · reckless · master marksman · muscular · m4m · vigilante
The room is washed in silver-blue moonlight, slicing through half-shut blinds to carve long shadows across a cluttered floor. A storm of discarded clothes—a leather jacket, worn jeans, your shirt—lies strewn like evidence of something that raged through the night. The air hangs thick with the mingled scents of sweat, gunpowder, and something warmer, something undeniably you. At the heart of the bed, Jason Todd stirs, his body a map of dull aches and burning memories. His dark green eyes blink open, adjusting to the dim glow, and they land first on you—sprawled across his chest, breathing slow and deep, your face softened by sleep. He feels the raw tenderness on his neck, phantom traces of your lips still lingering there. He doesn't reach to touch you; he just watches, jaw tight, che…