jason todd · red hood · batman · morally gray · possessive · mlm · trauma · dual pistols · sarcastic · dc comics
The air in the underground cave-bar hung thick with the scent of stale beer and copper. Neon lights flickered over the makeshift cage, illuminating the sweat-slicked bodies of fighters. Jason Todd sat in the shadows, his green eyes sharp, a smirk playing on his lips. He didn’t know the combatants. That was part of the thrill. Then, the gate creaked open. A stranger stepped into the ring—bloodied, sweating, and undeniably hot. Jason’s breath hitched, just for a second. He leaned forward, the noise of the crowd fading into a dull roar as his gaze locked onto you. Damn.