Jason raises his hands like you're a cornered animal. “Relax, I didn’t come out here for you,” he says, reaching into his jacket to pull out a cigarette and lighter.

You exhale, easing slightly back into the wall. “You’re smoking again?” you ask, half question, half quiet observation.

He shrugs, lighting the cigarette. “It’s how I deal with... stuff.” You glance at him. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

He takes a drag, speaking through the smoke. “Hey, I was just about to drink myself to death before you showed up. But now I’m very intrigued... Who’s the guy? He clearly wants to fuck you.”

You blink. “What?” “I’m here with my friends from work, asshole. And maybe you noticed the girl sitting next to me as well?” “Oh, I did,” he replies, tone smug. “She especially wants you. She was all over you. But I don’t blame her, you’re hot as hell.”

You can’t help it, you burst out laughing. “You’re so silly, Jason,” you say, still giggling. “I’m gonna go back inside, to my friends.”

You start to walk away, but he gently catches your hand. You stop. “You really do look beautiful,” he says softly.

You just stare at each other for a moment, caught in something too familiar, too dangerous. “Thanks,” you finally say, voice quieter. “You don’t look too bad yourself…Red.”

Later, as you’re saying goodbye to your friends, they can’t stop grinning. “Jason’s still outside, by the way,” one of them points out. “He’s literally been waiting for you the whole night,” another teases. “She’s so getting laid.” “No doubt about it.”

You roll your eyes. “Guys, seriously. He’s my ex. That’s not happening.” They squint at you like they know better.

As you go outside to book a cab, Jason is leaning against his bike, arms folded, helmet in hand. “I’ll take you home,” he says casually. You narrow your eyes. “Not on that death machine. I never got on it before, and I still won’t.” He smirks, already walking towards you. “It’ll be fun.” “Nope.” You shake your head, backing up. “Come on,” he says, handing you the spare helmet. “Trust me. I’ll keep you safe. Okay?” You hesitate, then slowly reach for the helmet. “Okay.”

The ride is nothing like you expected. It’s freeing, thrilling, your arms wrapped around his waist, the wind in your hair, his warmth steady in front of you. And when you get home, you're practically glowing. “That was the best thing ever,” you say, grinning as you unbuckle the helmet. “I told you!” he replies. You say, still grinning, “Why didn’t you ever make me try that before?” Jason laughs and replies, “I did! Remember? But you were screaming so loud, people thought I was kidnapping you.”

You both laugh, stumbling a bit as you reach your door. But when the laughter fades, so does the ease. You unlock your door, turn back to him. “Jason?” “Hm?” “Why are you here?”

He says nothing at first, just stares at you. And it’s not the usual stare. It’s the kind that looks too deep, the kind that carries weight. “Here,” you repeat, “now, in my doorway, making me laugh, smile... Why?” His voice is low, raw. “Because I miss you.” He winces, like even saying it hurts. “I know I shouldn’t, but I—” “I miss you too,” you say quietly.

There’s silence between you. Then you sigh. “Come here. "My feet are killing me.” You pull him inside and lead him to the sofa.

After a while, you say, “I’m gonna get into something more comfortable.” You disappear into your room. Jason stays on the couch, calling out after a few seconds, “Can I be completely honest?” “Mhm,” you reply from behind the door. “I’m so extremely horny right now.” You burst out laughing. “Jason?? Jeez, have some composure!” “I’m just saying,” he continues, “it doesn’t leave much to the imagination knowing you’re changing next door.” “Oh really?” you say teasingly. “Wanna see instead?”

You step out, wearing nothing but a pyjama shirt and shorts. Jason’s head snaps toward you. His eyes scan every inch. “You look... a bit disappointed,” you say with a smirk. “Would’ve preferred you naked,” he shrugs, “but you’re always hot.” You blush and sit next to him again on the sofa. He stares at you. First your eyes, then your lips. You raise a brow. “You’re doing that thing.” “What thing?” he asks. “That thing you do when you reallyyy want to kiss me.” “I do,” he says plainly. “Then?” He hesitates. “I don’t want to make you feel—” “I won’t,” you cut him off gently. “I won’t feel or get attached or anything like that. I know we’re done.” Jason looks at you, uncertain. “Are you sure?” He brushes his thumb against your bottom lip. You smile. “Yes. I’m also horny, you know. I’m just more composed than you.” He smirks. “How about I fuck the composure out of you?”

Entering the dimly lit hideout, Jason kicked off his boots and tossed his helmet onto a nearby table. He rubbed his temples, feeling a dull ache starting to form in his head. Just as he was about to retreat to his room for some much-needed rest, he heard a voice echoing through the quiet space. Your lips stretched into a wide grin, and without thinking, you lunged at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug.

"Jaybird!" The voice was enthusiastic and filled with an energy that Jason found almost overwhelming.

"Hey, you're back!" you exclaimed, a grin spreading across your face as you closed the distance between you and Jason.

He couldn't help but feel a small smile tug at the corner of his lips in response to your infectious energy. It had been a long day, and seeing you so happy to see him was a welcome sight. However, as you continued to chatter excitedly about your day, he felt a subtle throbbing in his head intensify.

He stiffened in your arms, and you pulled back slightly, noticing the storm clouds gathering in his eyes. His jaw clenched, and you could see the tension radiating off him.

"Hey, could you calm down," he said in a low, gravelly voice, prying your arms from around his neck. "You're acting like a damn hurricane."

You paused mid-sentence, the excitement in your eyes dimming slightly as you processed his words. The smile that had been so vibrant moments ago faltered, and you took a step back, suddenly self-conscious. You blinked, taken aback by his sudden coldness. "What?"

"You're being too loud and you're giving me a headache." he muttered, pushing past you and into the living room.

"Oh, uh, sorry," you mumbled, your enthusiasm now replaced with uncertainty.

You stared after him, hurt and confusion warring within you. You had anticipated this joyful reunion, the two of you wrapped up in each other's arms, but instead, his words hung in the air like a heavy fog. You had missed him all day, every second of it, and now that he was back, he was telling you to calm down? You felt like you had been slapped in the face.

For the rest of the evening, you tried your best to contain your exuberance, to dim the light that had been burning so brightly inside you. You spoke in hushed tones, moved with measured steps, and kept your laughter in check. Every fiber of your being ached to be near him, to touch him, but you held yourself back, convinced that this was what he wanted.

The days that followed were a monotonous blur. you moved through them like a shadow, your heart heavy with the weight of his words. You were consumed by a quiet sadness, an ache that gnawed at you day and night. You missed the way we used to be, the way he would wrap you in his arms and tell you that your happiness was his priority. But now, you felt like a nuisance, a burden that he couldn't wait to be rid of.

One evening, as you sat on the couch, lost in your thoughts, Jason walked in. He looked at you with his brow furrowed.

"Hey," he began, his voice gentle this time.

You turned to look at him, your eyes still carrying a touch of sadness.

"Hi" you replied to him trying to keep a straight face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice softer than before.

You stare at nothing as you answer the question. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"You've been very quiet all week. You're not yourself. You used to be… well, you used to be energetic, and now you're like a shadow," he said, his gaze searching yours.

You swallowed hard, your throat suddenly tight. "You told me to calm down, and that I was being loud."

"I'm sorry for snapping at you," Jason said sincerely. "I know you were just excited to see me, But I needed a moment to adjust after being on that mission. I wasn't prepared to interact with you, but that doesn't mean I wanted you to disappear."

You sighed, your gaze dropping to your hands in your lap.

You felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes. You had misunderstood him, taken his words to heart in the worst possible way. "I just... I didn't want to bother you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "maybe I was being too much for you."

Jason reached out and gently tilted your chin up, making you meet his eyes.

"You're never too much for me," he said softly. "I appreciate your energy and enthusiasm. It's just... I was having a rough day, and I didn't handle it well. I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to change who you are."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips, and a hint of your usual spark returned to your eyes.

"You're forgiven," you said, giving him a playful nudge as you pout and say "But next time, maybe just tell me you're having a bad day instead of being mean, okay?"

Jason chuckled, relieved to see your spirit returning. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close.

You've been Matt Murdock's best friend for years, and although you've always found it strange how he seems to get injured so frequently, you've never really thought much of it. Matt has always been a bit of a klutz, and he's a lawyer who spends a lot of time on his feet, so it's not entirely surprising that he occasionally gets bumps and bruises. But lately, his injuries have been getting more serious, and you can't help but worry about him.

Every time you ask Matt about his injuries, he dismisses you with a casual "it was an accident" or "these things happen y/n it's not a big deal." You've tried to press him for more information, but he always seems to dodge your questions. It's frustrating, but you care about Matt too much to push him too hard.

One day, you decide to stop by Matt's apartment unannounced. You're worried about him, and you want to check in on him. When he answers the door, he looks surprised but welcomes you inside. As you walk into the living room, you notice that Matt is shirtless and holding a bag of ice to his torso. You can't help but stare at the cuts and bruises all over his body.

"Matt, what happened?" you ask, your concern mounting.

Matt looks down at himself as if only just noticing his injuries. "Oh, this? It's nothing, just a little accident," he says with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Matt, this doesn't look like 'nothing' to me," you say firmly. "What's going on? Why do you keep getting hurt like this?"

Matt hesitates for a moment, and then he sighs. "Y/n, please. I can't tell you."

"Why not?" you demand, feeling frustrated and angry. "Why won't you trust me? I'm your best friend, Matt. Don't you think I deserve to know what's going on?"

Matt looks away, his jaw clenched. "It's complicated," he says finally.

"Complicated how?" you press. "Is it something dangerous? Is someone hurting you?"

Matt hesitates again, and then he shakes his head. "No, it's not like that," he says, his voice softening a little. "I just... I can't explain it right now. Please, y/n. Just trust me."

But you're not willing to let it go. You're tired of being kept in the dark, and you're worried about your friend. "No, Matt," you say firmly. "I can't just trust you blindly. I need to know what's going on. If you won't tell me, then I'll have to figure it out myself."

Matt looks at you, his expression pained. You can tell he's struggling with something, and it breaks your heart. Finally, he takes a deep breath and looks at you again.

"Okay, fine," he says, his voice rough. "I'll tell you. But you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone. Not even Foggy."

You nod eagerly, feeling a sense of relief. "I promise, Matt," you say. "I won't tell anyone."

And then Matt tells you about his alter ego, Daredevil. He tells you about the danger he faces every day, and the injuries he sustains in the course of his crime-fighting. You're stunned, but also proud of Matt for being such a brave and selfless hero.

"Matt, why didn't you tell me before?" you ask, feeling hurt.

"I didn't want to put you in danger," he says, his voice low. "And I didn't want you to worry about me. But I couldn't keep it from you forever. You deserve to know the truth."

You nod slowly, feeling a mix of emotions. "I understand," you say. "And I'm glad you told me. But please, Matt. Be careful. I don't want to see you get hurt anymore."

"I'll do my best," he says, giving you a small smile. "And thank you, y/n. For understanding."

After Matt opens up to you about his secret identity as Daredevil, the two of you settle into an easy rhythm of conversation. You joke around with each other, teasing and bantering like you always have. But there's a new level of understanding between you now, and it makes everything feel just a little bit more intimate.

"So, does this mean I have to start calling you Daredevil now?" you ask, grinning.

Matt chuckles. "Only if you want to. I'm still the same guy, y/n. Just with a few extra bruises."

You nod, but then you can't resist taking a playful jab at him. "Well, at least now you have an excuse for bumping into things all the time."

Matt laughs, shaking his head. "Hey, I don't bump into things all the time. Just... some of the time."

You both laugh, and then Foggy chimes in. "You two should just start dating already," he says, rolling his eyes.

You and Matt both blush, but then Matt jumps in with a quip. "Sorry, Foggy. I'm already taken. My other girlfriend is justice."

You snort with laughter, and Foggy groans. "Ugh, you're both incorrigible."

There's a brief moment of silence, and then you can't resist making another blind joke. "Well, at least I know I don't have to worry about him checking out other girls."

Matt rolls his eyes, but he's grinning too. "Ha ha, very funny, y/n."

You all laugh again, and for a moment, everything feels light and easy. But then Matt's expression turns serious, and he looks at you with concern.

"Y/n, I mean it," he says. "I don't want you to get hurt because of me. If anything ever happens, promise me you'll stay away from the danger."

You nod, your own expression sobering. "I promise, Matt. But don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."