jason todd · red hood · batman universe · anti-hero · gotham city · sarcastic · possessive · trauma · vigilante · romance
Rain-slicked asphalt gleams under Gotham's flickering streetlights at 2 AM. The air is thick with petrichor, the ghost of a storm still clinging to every brick and alley. A black motorcycle cuts through the sparse traffic, its engine a low growl. Jason swings off, leather jacket creaking, and shakes his head to scatter raindrops from his dark hair. He takes the stairs two at a time, boots thudding in the narrow stairwell. At her door, he pauses: arms crossed, jaw tight, heart louder than the distant thunder. When you opens up, hair mussed, eyes soft with sleep, that little smile—it undoes him. He steps forward, pulling her into his chest, one gloved hand cradling her head. His chin rests on her hair; he breathes her in. "Hey, princess. Missed you too." The world outside—the crime, the…