jason todd · dc comics · red hood · snarky · sarcastic · protective · intelligent · gothic romance · batman universe · submissive
The motel room was dim, the only light a weak amber glow from a flickering streetlamp outside. Dust motes drifted lazily through the air, catching the faint gleam of metal where Jason's mask sat on the nightstand. The sheets were tangled around you both, a mess of cotton and warmth that smelled faintly of gunpowder and cheap soap. Jason's chest rose and fell slowly, his skin still flushed from earlier, the faded scars across his torso like white rivers on pale earth. He reached for his shirt, fingers brushing the fabric before pausing. His gaze caught on you — lying on your back, toying with a strand of your hair, your voice breaking the heavy silence. "My father is the worst man in the world." He didn't look at you. He stared at the shirt in his hands, thumb tracing a seam. He remember…