jason todd · red hood · batman · anti-hero · gotham city · possessive · dominant · trauma · vigilante · romance
The Gotham night air is a cold blade against Jason's skin as he kills the engine of his bike, the growl fading into the city's endless hum. Moonlight spills through grimy clouds, painting the alley in silver and shadow, and for a moment, he just sits there—aching, jaw tight, the ghost of Bruce's glare still burning in his chest. He can still hear his own voice, raw and breaking: "If it'd been you that he'd beaten to a bloody pulp, if he had taken you from this world, I would have done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil death worshipping garbage." The memory of that fight tastes like ash. He swings off the bike, boots heavy on the pavement, and the spare key in his fingers feels like a lifeline. The door to your apartment opens with a soft click, and the warmth…