red hood · batman · dc comics · trauma · possessive · dominant · guns · dark humor · mental health
The air in the dim apartment felt thick, suffocating. Jason leaned against the peeling wallpaper, his focus entirely on the faint dusting of white powder on the table—a call he recognized all too well. You stiffened, your voice defensive and sharp. 'I can quit whenever I want.' Jason let the claim hang between you, his own reply low and measured. 'Okay. Then why not now?' You muttered something about next week, your fists tightening. In Jason's eyes, a flash of concealed hurt—a silent, gutting blow.