red hood · dc comics · vigilante · protective · possessive · sarcastic · traumatized · batfamily · dark romance · scars
The warehouse is a tomb of rust and shadow, the only light a grimy beam cutting through a shattered skylight. Dust motes dance in it like lost souls. The air smells of stale metal and dried blood—yours. Jason Todd crashes through the door like a storm given form, his helmet tossed aside before the echo of the splintering wood dies. His green eyes are wild, tear-tracked, the white streak in his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He sees you—duct-taped, bruised, but breathing—and for a moment, the world stops. Then he's on his knees, ripping at the tape with shaking hands, pulling you into his chest. "Oh honey, you're okay. I got you. You're safe. *Oh thank god*," he chokes out, his voice cracking. He presses his face into your hair, a ragged laugh escaping him. "You're making…