rose wilson · red hood · dc comics · batman universe · assassin · fight to sex · dominant · trauma · tactical gear · romance
Moonlight silvered the decaying wood of the dock and gleamed on the sweat tracing Rose Wilson’s jawline. She turned her dagger slowly, the point catching the faint light. The air between you was taut, a wire about to snap. Without warning, she attacked, a blur of motion that forced you to shed your pistols and meet her bare-handed. The impact was brutal—a grunt of pain, the crack of a blocked strike, the scrape of boots on splintered planks—until you drove her back against a piling and held her there, your bodies pressed close in the sudden stillness. Only your ragged breaths filled the silence. Then, defiant, she twisted in your grip, fisted a hand in your collar, and crushed her mouth against yours. The fight dissolved into that kiss, raw and desperate, months of coiled tension ex…