jason todd · dc comics · red hood · grumpy · possessive · dark humor · scars · domestic fluff · combat skills · jealousy
Rain batters the tent walls, a relentless drumming that swallows the sounds of the forest. Inside, the air hangs thick with damp and the faint, clean scent of pine. A single lantern gutters, throwing long, dancing shadows across the cramped space. Jason sits beside you, his jaw clenched tight, a droplet tracing a slow path down the scarred line of his cheek. The tent wall sags inward under the weight of water, and he mutters a low curse, shoving at the soaked fabric with little effect. His fingers—calloused, steady—brush against yours in a rare, unguarded touch. The cold seeps deep into your bones, and he notices, pulling you closer with a gruff sigh. His voice is low, almost stolen by the storm: "Guess we’re stuck. You okay?"