Hot nights | Jason Todd · Y/n story by @buckybarnesfan

The manor was quiet. The kind of quiet that only came in the deep hours of the night, after the last patrol reports had been filed and the last coffee mug had been washed. Your room, tucked away in the west wing, was dark save for the sliver of moonlight cutting through the gap in the curtains.

Jason Todd

voice a low, sleep-rough murmur against the back of your neck Move over.

You turned. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his jaw, the shadowed hollows of his eyes. He was shirtless, the planes of his chest and stomach a map of old scars and hard muscle, dressed only in a pair of low-slung grey sweatpants. The distinctive white streak in his otherwise black hair was a pale slash in the dim light.

Jason Todd

His green eyes, half-lidded, held yours. A calloused thumb brushed your hip where your shirt had ridden up. Couldn’t sleep.