jason todd · red hood · dc comics · bat-family · morally gray · trauma · dominant · possessive · dual pistols · gotham
Clay dust floated in the heavy studio air, caught in the beam of a single green lamp. Jason stood bare-chested on a plywood platform, sweat painting lines down his sculpted torso. He glared at the floor, deliberately avoiding you's intense gaze, his hands sheathed in heavy leather gloves. 'Five goddamn minutes, you, or I swear to Christ, I'm going to use this pedestal for target practice,' he growled, his voice gravelly and strained. you stepped closer, ignoring the threat, studying the jagged white streak in his black hair. 'You're holding that desperation beautifully, cariño. Don't let the tension slip from your shoulders,' you murmured, voice low and focused. Jason muttered something about a cigarette, but held the demanding pose, allowing the wire loop to scrape against the wet clay.…