Headphones Are Not Enough I Need To Fuck At Least Two Of The Band Members

if you give “stupid” characters rural/southern accents i don’t like you and if you give “smart” characters rural/southern accents but it’s a punchline i don’t like you even more

𖦹 i want somebody to want pt. 2 𖦹

pair: jason todd x gn!reader

plot: faced with the knowledge that there is someone out there for him, jason todds life is thrown in a whirlwind

wc: 3.8k

authors note: i'm thinking about making the reader in this series an artist. the issue: i can't decide whether their focus is visual art, music, writing, or some performing art. I would appreciate any input you have on this, as it'll probably be mentioned in the next part of this series!

pt. 1

The first time Jason Todd saw you, he swore his heart stopped beating again. 

Since that drunken night out at the bar, Jason had begun to look for you everywhere. He went out as a civilian more, began accepting offers to grab a coffee or go hangout somewhere. His siblings, of course, had taken advantage of this fact. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but everywhere he looked, he always tried to catch a glimpse of you. The photos Tim had found online of you were ingrained in his brain. When he closed his eyes, his subconscious was no longer filled with all the dreadful things he’d done and experienced. Your smile—the same one he now searched for in crowds—replaced every aspect of his mind. 

Jason had opted for a hoodie layered underneath his leather jacket that day. Damian was bundled up as well, donning a rather janky scarf that Dick had made for him during his crochet phase. Aware of his brother's newfound interest in going out in public, Damian asked Jason if he would take him to a park to gather materials needed for his science class diorama. Agreeing, Jason had picked him up from school and walked with him through the better parts of Gotham to one of the only clean and functioning parks, which just so happened to be near the University area.

“Odd location of park, Todd.”

“Shut it, Wayne.”

Despite the various offers from his family to track you down or learn more about you, Jason had strictly told them not to, beyond looking up your social media and what was public. Even then, he had hesitated when Tim found your accounts. He didn’t want to learn every little thing about you before you had even met—it felt intrusive. He didn’t want his vigilante family stalking you; crashing into your apartment or kidnapping you to meet him, as Damian had lovingly suggested. He wanted what was between you two to be natural, to happen in its own time.

Damian was crouched beside a bush, gathering twigs and little rocks while Jason stood beside him, surveying the park out of habit. Despite the sun's rays shining down, the chill in the breeze had every kid playing on the playground bundled up, and the occasional couple holding hands, walking a little closer to retain some heat. Thankfully, Damian had no interest in looking for materials anywhere near the rowdy playground, so they opted to walk around the wide field, staying on the somewhat scenic walking trail. 

In the middle of the grassy field, about 30 people were gathered around a picnic table where an older man sat. He had kept his eye on the group for a while now, and had deducted that it was a class of sorts. The people listening to the man speak looked to be around his age, and all of them had bags. Some stood while many sat on the grass in front of the man. 

“Jason, the bag please.” Damian's arm shot up towards Jason, gesturing to the grocery bag halfway full of rocks and twigs. Handing it to him, Jason watched in amusement as Damian inspected two rocks meticulously, carefully placing one of them into the bag and tossing the other behind him carelessly. 

“Hey, look before you throw those things.”

 Damian's response was another smaller rock thrown at his brother's chest. Jason scoffed, crossing his arms as he turned back to the field, observing the class. 

It seemed to be ending, as the people began to stand up and walk away, some by themselves, others in groups. Through the rush of everyone standing, he saw—

You. 

Holy fucking shit. You were here. 

Even from far away, he could see laughter bubbling out of your mouth as you wiped grass off yourself, talking to a friend of yours. You were radiant; and call it cliche, but to him you were shining brighter than the sun. Thankfully, you were slow to pack up, so he watched, totally captivated by you as you talked with your friends in a small group around the professor. 

Seeing you like this was surreal to Jason. The way you smiled at something someone said, how you looked around at the scenery around you, the way you existed and interacted with people—it was surreal. 

Until now, you had only existed in the wonders of his mind at night and as a static photo in his phone. Yet here you were, existing in your own world that hadn’t yet collided with his. You had no idea that in less than seven months, you would find his name on your arm. 

Jason felt nauseous. Even from this far away, you outmatched everything his mind had come up with from the photos. An overwhelming sense of dread slowly crawled its way up his throat. He couldn’t pinpoint where it came from or what he was feeling exactly, but all he knew was that he wasn’t okay. His mouth was dry, and his eyes were slightly more watery. Despite this, he couldn’t look away. If seeing you from this far away had that effect on him, he didn’t know what he would do when he actually met you, face to face. A little sadly, he watched as you picked up your bag, waving to your professor and friends as you walked away. His eyes never left your retreating figure, and the muscles in his calves twitched to follow. 

“Ahki,” the tug on Jason's pants reminded him why he was here in the first place, who he was, where he was, and that he wasn’t alone. “Am I allowed to put this in the diorama?” 

Hesitantly (and with much effort), Jason tore his gaze from your distant figure, looking down to the caterpillar in Damians hand. He sighed, shaking his head and turning back to where his heart had disappeared to. 

“No, leave it be Damian.”

Later, further down the line on a cozy night in, he would inquire why your class had been outdoors that day. You would tell him the heater in your classroom was broken, causing the room to feel like the insides of a toaster oven. Your professor could only shed so many layers before he decided to go on a field trip to a local park for class where it was much cooler. The students had been enthusiastic about it, and ultimately, paid more attention to what their professor was lecturing. 

You, being the way that you are, would apologize for not noticing him further away on the trail. Scoffing at that, he would pull you tighter against him on the couch. 

“Nothin’ to be sorry for,” he’d say softly, placing a delicate kiss on your temple. “I was a wreck when I saw you anyways. Probably would have thrown up if you came up to talk to me.” 

“Well, I was a wreck when I first talked to you too.”

“At Sifted?”

“No, not the coffee shop,” you would snuggle further into him, closing your eyes as a hum of contentment rumbled through Jason's chest. “When I was walking home from the studio.”

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

The first time Jason Todd interacted with you, it was behind the mask. He had added your general area to his patrol route, despite the low crime rates. If he were being completely honest, it was a much needed respite from crime alley. It allowed him to calm down before going somewhere to rest, simply watching as students walked home from their late night classes, or drunkenly hopped from bar to bar. Occasionally, he would beat up some bastards from following students home, save a couple places from robberies, crack down on some drug deals—the typical stuff. 

It was nearing five in the morning when he arrived at your apartment. He typically started out his patrol here on the roof of the building, surveying the area (and resisting the urge to jump down onto your third floor fire escape) before expanding outward towards the more crime ridden and shadowy parts of the area. 

The streets were eerily vacant this time of night. The only noises were the occasional far off gunshot, the sounds of cars backfiring, and distant yells of drunk frat kids at the bars a couple blocks over. These sounds had all become familiar to Gotham residents, and sitting atop some random buildings jagged rooftop, Jason closed his eyes, allowing his bruised and scar ridden body to relax for a minute. 

A far off cry for help snapped his eyes open. 

Alert, his head whipped around, trying to determine which direction the cry had come from. 

Another yell, and he was running across rooftops. 

Grappling down onto a balcony, he spotted the struggle between two people on the side of the street. One of them ran out of the darkness, towards the streetlight and Jason felt his heart stop yet again. 

It was you. 

You, and some asshole attempting to do god knows what. 

Instantly he jumped down from the balcony, running to the man who had his eyes set on you. He was attempting to say something, probably some threat meant to scare you into submission, but it never left his throat. 

The Red Hood grabbed the man's ragged clothing, yanking him back. He came tumbling backwards, a curse escaping his mouth. 

Jason swung, his fist colliding with the man's chin. The sharp clack of teeth hitting teeth was painful to hear, let alone watch as the man was hurled to the hard pavement from the punch. 

The man groaned loudly, yelling curses. Jason stalked over to the man, lifting him up by the shirt before giving him another painful punch to his temple. The man wasn’t knocked out, per say, but now he was incapable of forming a coherent sentence or moving his limbs in a precise manner. 

Squatting, Red Hood rummaged through his belt for tactical wire. He turned his head, helmet looking at your shocked figure. At some point, probably when he had uppercut the guy, you had sunk to the floor, leaning against the light pole. 

You stared wide eyed at the scene, gaze flickering from the man to Red Hood. He simply turned his head, flipping the man onto his stomach and tying his hands together behind his back. His head pounded from the adrenaline, from the fact that you had been in danger. 

He stood, walking towards you. From this height, you looked like a frightened alley cat, curled up on itself. Slowly, he stuck his hand out. 

Your gaze flickered from the gloved hand to the helmet, hesitantly placing your hand atop his. Jason's heart soared. 

In the most careful manner, Jason helped to pull you up off the cold cement, standing back on your feet. His hand never let go of yours, and you slowly pulled it back, fixing your attire. 

“Thank you…” your voice was shaky, and this close, Jason saw the way you trembled slightly. If you weren’t here, he would have killed the guy squirming on the sidewalk a few feet away. 

Despite the obvious tremor in your voice, Jason's throat had closed up at finally, finally hearing your voice. The deep, soul-clutching feeling from when he saw you at the park a couple weeks ago slowly made its second appearance in his gut, and the temperature inside his helmet seemed to increase. Turning his head, he saw a bag discarded on the ground, the same one you had with you on that cold day at the park. 

Walking over to the bag, he got down on one knee and picked up all the things that fell out of it. 

Chapstick, two pens, a wallet with a very familiar government ID, some coins, and….a tiny plastic dinosaur? 

Jason smiled, putting it back inside your bag before standing once more, bringing the bag back over to you. Your eyes hadn’t left him, and your hand had grabbed your bag with much less hesitance than before. You thanked him yet again, fumbling with your clothing and keychains. Jason watched, and noted how your breathing continued to come rather fast, your jaw beginning to tremble. 

He didn’t want you to feel threatened, didn’t want you to ever feel whatever you were feeling right now. Your gaze flickered to the semi-unconscious man on the pavement. Jason could tell how scared you still were, despite the attacker being tied up and incapacitated behind him. His mind raced to help you without coming off as odd or threatening. He couldn’t offer you a hug, who would want to hug Red Hood? The famed murderer and crime lord turned vigilante, turned Batman Associate. Not exactly the most comforting person. Despite this, his arms ached to hold you, to wrap his frame around yours and guard you from the rest of the world. 

All Jason wanted was to protect you. 

“Were you walking home?” When he spoke, he tried his damn best to sound less intimidating through the helmet modulator. Your head lifted to look at him, or rather the mask. You nod slowly. 

“I’ll walk you the rest of the way.”

“You don’t have to, you’ve already done enough—”

“I want to.” His voice left no room for negotiation, and somehow, you knew this wasn’t a battle you would win. A small smile crept its way onto your face, and you nodded, muttering a small okay. 

You began to walk. 

Jason followed. 

He always would. 

It had only been a few silent minutes by the time your apartment building loomed before you. You turned back towards Red Hood, awkwardly thanking him once more, getting a nod in response before entering the building. 

From a rooftop, Jason watched as the lights in your living room turned on. Turning with the final knowledge that you were safely home, he made his way back towards the man he left binded up on the sidewalk. 

Despite his own doubts and insecurities, he reminded himself you were his for a reason. You were the one person who could comfort him the most, help him in his darkest times, and love him despite all the wrongs he's done, rough edges and all. And regardless of what his brain told him, he could do the same for you. Tonight was proof of that. The universe, despite it’s wild and fucked up ways, had given him the gift of you. You two were made for each other—you’re his soulmate. 

As he landed down on the sidewalk, the man turned his head, eyes widening at the return of Red Hood. He blabbered, begging for mercy as Jason loomed over him. 

The bastard was going to regret ever attempting to hurt you. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

The first time you met Jason Todd was an accident. 

In the last year or so of moving to Gotham, you had made it a habit to leave your overpriced apartment every couple days to work/study in the cozy coffee shop—Sifted—a block away. You had settled into a routine of going there after class, in the mornings, and whenever you needed air from your cramped apartment. Quickly, you had made yourself a regular. 

You began to notice other regulars as well; a mother with her two toddlers who would be there for lunch every Tuesday and Thursday, back on Sundays with the father. A group of teenagers who would come in every morning before walking to school, and an older man who seemed to constantly be stressed out who ordered a comically large plain black coffee. 

The quaint little Cafe was a hidden gem in Gotham, hidden away from the crime and ugly side of the city. Everywhere you looked inside the place was aesthetically pleasing, with a plethora of plants, as well as a small free library and games for kids. The seating was diverse as well, with tables of different heights and shapes, comfy chairs, and plush couches/cushions for the kid area. 

Simply put, it fulfilled all your aesthetic coffee shop dreams. 

As of late, you had noticed the recurring presence of a handsome guy, about your age, brunette with good style, who was absolutely shredded. You had first seen him a couple weeks ago in the afternoon when you sat down at your usual corner table to get some work done. He sat across the shop in a leather chair, facing your direction. On the little side table, he had a steaming beverage—either tea or coffee you guessed—and a book in hand. 

The Picture of Dorian Gray, Oscar Wilde. 

To say that you were a little attracted to him would be an understatement. He had sporadically been showing up to the coffee shop since then (always with a book), and you had been lucky enough to be there at the same time he was. Once, while waiting in line to order, you had watched through the front glass windows as a red motorcycle pulled up to the shop, the rider parking and taking off their helmet.

 Of course, Mr. Bookworm rode a motorcycle. After gaining this new bit of information on him, your mind went wild with fantasies and dreams of being swept away off your feet, taken to ride somewhere at top speeds through Gotham streets. 

Your brain told you that this was a stupid hallway crush—there was zero chance of getting with him. And yet, the countless times you had caught his eye, or exchanged a quick smile with him while leaving or entering made you think otherwise, because maybe, just maybe he was curious about you too. 

Today, you were a mess. You had attempted to pull an all-nighter working on a project for one of your classes, but had fallen asleep on the rug in your living room. You woke up around noon feeling more tired than you were before falling asleep, and your stomach was rumbling and aching for food. You were more than disappointed to see you forgot to go shopping for basic snacks and things to eat that didn’t require cooking or more than two dishes. 

You had opted to stop by Sifted, the coffee shop on your way to class to pick up a sandwich and coffee to help energize you before rushing to your 1 PM class. When you approached the cafe, your heart skipped a beat to see a certain red motorcycle parked outside. 

Entering, you were a little shocked to see your guy sitting with another man (also shredded) with a small gray dog in his lap. His eyes flickered to you as you entered, and you smiled at him before rushing to the counter and ordering your much needed coffee. Rather than sit down, you stood by the counter where they placed all the drinks, opening your phone and aimlessly scrolling. 

You would be lying if you said you weren’t eyeing the two men in your peripheral vision. 

The soft music playing over the speakers, combined with the typical clamor from the kitchen and baristas muffled their conversation. After five or so minutes of scrolling and stealing glances, the barista placed two drinks down on the counter. 

Taking one of the cardboard cups into your hand, you quickly thanked the barista before turning. On your way out, you passed the guy on his way to the counter. An intrusive thought about the height difference between you two filled you with shame, and you quickened your way to the door. 

Once outside, you threw away the receipt in a trashcan, bringing your coffee in its to-go cup to your lips. 

What went down your throat was not coffee. This was not what you ordered. 

Swallowing, you brought the cup up higher, inspecting the writing in bold marker on the side—

Hot Chocolate - Jason

No way. 

No fucking way, you had just stolen someone elses drink. 

It wasn’t just anyone either. It was the guy of your dreams, who you now knew to be named Jason. Jason, who rode a red motorcycle, read at a coffee shop for an hour almost every day, while drinking Hot Chocolate of all things.

Sighing, you turn back around, walking into the cozy shop once more. Instantly, you make eye contact with the guy Jason, who is standing in front of his friend, or whoever he was here with, drink held high to inspect it. Your drink. 

Sheepishly, you make your way over to him, apologizing. “Hi, I am so sorry, you’re Jason, right? I just grabbed a drink without looking even though I probably should have and I accidentally took yours and already took a sip of it, so can I buy you another drink if you want? I’m sorry again…” 

The lack of proper sleep seemed to be getting to you, and you only realized when you were done how you had rambled to him. You heard a chuckle, and glanced behind Jason to his friend who was smiling, looking down at the dog in his lap. 

“It’s no big deal,” Jason responded, looking down at you. He took a sip of his your drink. “Do you always get this? It’s good.”

A little taken aback by his friendly demeanor, you allow yourself to smile more freely. He wasn’t mad, which meant he probably didn’t hate you, which also meant that you still had a slim chance with this guy. 

“Sometimes I do.” You tell him your name, pointing to the cup where it was written. He introduces himself too, despite the fact you already know. 

“I’ve uh, noticed you around here a lot.” He ran a hand through his hair, and you swear he knew what he was doing. 

“Yeah, me too. Not me, obviously. You–I’ve noticed you too.” Seriously, you need to work on how well you respond in high-stress situations. He smiles in response, nodding. It’s an awkward interaction, really, but not in an unbearable way. It’s almost sweet, how neither of you can hold eye contact for too long before looking down or fidgeting in some way. 

The conversation lulls there before you see a clock and realize you have fifteen minutes to make it to your class on time. 

“Well I uh, I have to go but it was nice to meet you.” You take a step backwards, wanting to run away and stay there talking to him at the same time. His lips draw tight into a line and he nods. “And sorry again for stealing your drink.” 

“It’s really alright. Have a good day.” 

“You too!” With that awkward end, you turn and basically run towards the door, exiting the shop and quickly walking down the sidewalk, away from Jason, Hot Chocolate in hand. Even with embarrassment flaming through your body, you can’t help the wide grin from settling onto your face. 

He had noticed you. 

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩  ♡  ✩˚｡⋆𖦹｡°⋆✮

You had noticed him. 

The thought alone made him giddy, and as he replayed the entire interaction, he couldn’t help his heart from thumping wildly in his ribcage. 

You had talked to him. You apologized to him, said his name. 

Slowly, he sat back down in his usual leather chair, starstruck. Next to him, Dick laughed as he watched his brother. 

“If this is how you're acting after one small interaction, I think you’re in trouble.”

“Shut up, Dick.” 

Haley barked softly, wagging her tail.

YUP YUP YUP THATS MY GOAT

highkey this little guy was the real Driver of the Day... p16 to p5 AND one of just 2 rookies to finish the race? Impressive

---

Howdy folks, the Senate will be considering the first ever resolution blocking arms to Israel. This is huge and historic; it would block government contracting and about $20 billion in arms and support. This is an uphill battle, PLEASE urge your senators to support S.J.Res114-115. This is maybe the most important piece of legislation relating to Palestine that we have ever gotten and we must seize this opportunity.

This doc has information on the resolutions and their process, as well as sample messages and a phone script you can use. Please, use this moment to hear witness for your neighbors.

Luke, who´s obsessed with saying, ´where my hug at?´

fully based on this post

warnings. fluff <3, little drunk!luke

₊˚⊹♡

The phrase had become a running joke, a playful thorn in your side. It all started innocently. You and Luke had been sparring very intensely, just like you always did when you wanted to put your engines to work and you had some free time. And like most times, he would beat you.

And after he helped you get up from the ground, he let it out.

“Where my hug at?”

You turn to him. He was standing there, sword in hand, with his arms open and ready to receive you. "What?" you laugh.

"Come on” he gestured you with his fingers to get closer to him, “Don´t you need one after stomping your ass to the ground? Again?”

You scoff. It was ridiculous, yes, but there was something about the way he said it, a goofy earnestness that made you want to laugh. And partly, because you knew he knew you too well; you did like giving hugs, just as much as you like receiving. But still, you knew he was teasing you.

“I´m not giving you any hugs” you say.

“You´ll need it later” he teased.

You hesitated for a moment, but then with a groan, you gave in, wrapping your arms around his torso as he wrapped his own over your shoulder to keep your head close to his chest.

But that one hug was a button you shouldn´t have pressed. From that day on, ‘Where my hug at?’ became Luke's catchphrase, deployed with strategic precision to elicit a reaction from you.

You sat on a sturdy tree trunk one night, a steaming mug of hot chocolate warming your hands. Counselor duties had been particularly demanding today, and a pleasant weariness settled over you as you watched the flames lick at the night sky.

“Hey” Luke said as he appeared behind you, taking a seat next to you.

You hadn't seen Luke all day, his schedule as busy as yours. “Hi” you greeted.

“Rough day, huh?” he asked.

You glanced at him, a tired smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You could say that. You?"

He stretched languidly, his arm brushing against yours. "Same" he said before taking your own mug from your hands, taking a sip.

A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the rhythmic roar of the fire. You both sat there, lost in your own thoughts, enjoying the shared camaraderie.

"Got any plans for tonight?” he asked casually.

You shrugged, tossing a charred stick onto the growing pile of embers. "Probably just stargaze for a bit, I need that."

"Sounds boring" he declared.

“You´re boring” You chuckled, nudging him playfully. "You spend all day teaching swordsmanship."

"Well, someone needs to make sure these kids don't accidentally poke someone's eye out” he declared. And there was another soft silence, before he broke it with another comment. “I´m really fucking tired” he groaned.

“Yeah, me too” you say, squeezing your own neck as you feel a knot growing bigger and bigger every time you move.

“Where my hug at, then?”

“Oh, Jesus”

Gods, wouldn't he let it go?

“Pleasee-ah, I need to squish something” he said.

"Where does this obsession with hugs even come from?" you ask, taking another sip from your mug.

He shrugged. “Beats me. Maybe because I just happen to know a certain someone who´s all about physical touch?"

"Oh, please," you scoffed, stepping on his foot on purpose. "You just like messing with me."

"Maybe a little," he admitted, “Come on! Don´t you feel sorry for me?”

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculousness. "Fine, fine" you conceded, scooting closer to him. As you leaned in for the hug, Luke chuckled, his arm wrapping around your shoulder and pulling you close. You both stare into the flames in silence.

"See?" he murmured with satisfaction. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

And because of how proud he feels, you pull away and push him down to the grass, his feet being the only thing visible over the tree trunk as a small group of campers erupted in laughter.

Gods, you had to be careful when he got drunk.

He was already clingy enough when he drank, but ever since the questions became his whole personality, he was much more annoying. "Man, it´s getting cold" he declared, throwing his arm dramatically around your shoulders. "Where my hug at?"

"You've asked me like ten times already, Luke” you groan, unwrapping his arm around you.

He blinked slowly, processing the information. "Oh," he mumbled, his grin faltering. "Have I?"

You nodded, fighting back a smile at his sheepish expression. There was a moment of silence. Just as you thought you might have escaped the hug-question, Luke spoke again.

"Well then," he declared, his voice thick with drunken confidence, "where my eleventh hug at?"

“It´s not here!” you yell.

Then he disappeared from a moment with Chris, and just a few minutes later, he came back. Pocking on his own biceps.

"Hey," Luke called. "Did I ever tell you how much stronger I'm getting?"

"Uh-huh" you replied cautiously, sensing another round coming on.

"Yeah," he continued, his voice laced with a newfound seriousness. "I could, like-, totally take down the entire cabin five."

You patted his back awkwardly, unsure how to respond to his drunken boast. "That's...great?”

"Yeah, it is!" he declared, pulling away and looking at you with wide, glassy eyes. "Come on, feel my arms, where my hug at?"

You started to poke Luke´s arms as he only looked at you, puffing up his chest as he waited. “I can feel your arms without having to hug you” you protest.

“Ugh” he groaned, “You´re so difficult to convince”

But sometimes, when the atmosphere was different, so was the question.

You sat perched on a rock overlooking the beach, waves crashing rhythmically against the shore. A soft crunch of gravel alerted you to Luke's presence. He climbed onto the rock beside you, his gaze mirroring yours as he took in the breathtaking sunset. You could feel Luke's concerned gaze turn towards you, and you knew he'd noticed the glistening tracks of dried tears on your cheeks.

"Your mom?" he asked softly, his voice laced with concern as he looked down at the piece of paper you had on your lap.

You nodded, unable to speak past the lump in your throat. A sniffle escaped you, and you quickly folded the letter again, tucking it away with a sigh.

"What'd she say?" he pressed gently.

You forced a smile, but it reached neither your eyes nor your heart. "I can't go," you whispered, the disappointment heavy in your voice. "She won't let me."

Luke shifted closer, his presence a silent source of comfort. He didn't bombard you with questions or try to offer false reassurances. He simply understood. “Well, at least you´re staying here with me” He bumped his shoulder against yours playfully, a subtle gesture that spoke volumes. You couldn't help but let out a soft, shaky laugh.

"Yeah," you mumbled, the weight on your chest lifting a little. "Yeah, that's not too bad."

The two of you sat there in companionable silence, watching the last rays of sunlight surrender to the approaching night.

The silence stretched on, punctuated only by the rhythmic roar of the waves. You turned your head towards Luke, his profile etched against the vibrant sunset.

"Luke" you called.

He turned toward you, his eyes searching yours. A hesitant smile touched your lips, a flicker of hope igniting within you. In that moment, the question that usually brought forth annoyance now carried a deeper meaning.

"Where my hug at?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He didn´t need you to ask twice. Without a word, he opened his arms wide, a silent invitation for comfort as he couldn´t hold back a little laugh.

You didn't hesitate. You leaned into his embrace, burying your face in the familiar scent of him. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, holding you close as if afraid to let go, silently acknowledging your pain. His touch was a promise to be there for you whenever you needed him.

The tears you'd been holding back finally spilled over. You let them flow freely, finding solace in the warmth of his embrace. In that moment, the disappointment faded into the background, replaced by the comforting knowledge that you weren't alone. You had Luke, and that, at least for now, was enough.

where are all of my josh jenkinson girlies?? i feel like there are NONE OF YALL.

BFB (j.t.)

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of fire, burns and shoulder dislocation

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: Jason doesn’t want to be seen as your best friend’s brother anymore. Jason Todd yearns for 7k words

A/N: Again I feel like this played out better in my head honestly but oh well, it is what it is

10 years ago Jason Todd aged 14 (Y/N) (L/N) aged 16

The sound of thundering feet down the hallway was a common sound ever since the Wayne household had welcomed a new child. You, nor your best friend Dick, were the slightest bit disturbed when Jason slammed open the door to the family room and stormed in.

"You ate my Cheetos!" He cried to his older brother, ruddy face screwed up like he had just eaten a sour grape.

You chuckled under your breath, looking back down at your book that rested against Dick's legs that had been thrown in your lap. Jason glared at the offensive limbs like they were a parasite.

"Sorry, baby bird. (Y/N) here really wanted some Cheetos." Dick replied, hands gross and covered in orange dust. You scoffed, smacking his knee and he gave you an impish grin while looking over his phone.

Jason paused, his face reddening as he caught a glance at you. You offered him a lopsided smile, effortlessly covering for his pig of a brother.

“Sorry, Jace, I was hungry.”

He looked down, bashfully playing with the hem of his sweater, "It's okay."

You smacked his brother again when you felt his body shake with thinly veiled laughter. He had no problem abusing the knowledge that his younger brother had a childish crush on you. The poor thing had already lost most of his snack stash because of him.

"Thanks, kiddo."

Jason shot you a dirty look, “Don’t call me a kid. We’re not that far apart in age, you know.”

You raised a brow, “You’re a freshman, and I’m a senior.”

“That’s just because I joined a year late!” He argued, indignant.

Holding up your hands in a mock ‘I surrender’ motion, you glanced back at your book, but not before shooting a final warning look at his older brother.

“Whatever you say, kiddo.”

***

Present Day Jason Todd aged 24 (Y/N) (L/N) aged 26

"Sorry, B. I can't make it tomorrow, I promised (Y/N) that I'd help her build some furniture."

Jason perked up, practically shooting up straight at the sound of your name, "(Y/N)? She still around? What's she up to these days?"

He hoped—prayed—that his voice didn’t sound as elated to them as it did to him.

The two of you had lost touch after you graduated high school. Dick had moved to Blüdhaven, and you’d been accepted to university in Central City. Without your best friend in Gotham, there hadn’t been much reason for you to visit Wayne Manor.

It had stung. Jason knew you’d always had a closer relationship with his older brother, but he’d thought—hoped—that you liked him enough to at least give him a call on the odd weekend.

He’d get the occasional holiday text from you, wishing him well, and sometimes he’d text you for advice about school. But that was it.

When Jason had come back from the Lazarus Pit, he’d spent countless nights wondering what had happened to you. You would’ve been twenty-six by then. He imagined you’d graduated grad school and become a scientist, probably living in a cute apartment you’d been so excited to decorate—walls lined with bookshelves, couches draped in cozy throws you’d thrifted or maybe even crocheted yourself.

He wondered if you’d grown any taller, if you still dressed like a tomboy, or if you’d traded that style for something softer, something different. He wondered if you’d finally gotten a cat, since you’d wanted one so badly growing up.

But things between him and Batman were still tense, there was still a lot of hurt left on his part, a lot of stuff to work through. He wasn't good enough for you before; he was too young, too brash, too immature.

Now, he was too broken, too damaged; still not worthy of you.

So, he was left wondering.

"Yeah...she's back in the city, she's been working as a junior researcher in Gotham S.T.A.R. Labs."

Jason nodded, nonchalantly, looking down at the home screen of his phone like there was something interesting that happened to capture his attention, "Oh, that's good."

Dick raised a brow, clearly catching onto Jason's very poor attempts to appear unbothered, "And she still thinks you're dead."

He didn't need to see his younger brother's face to know he had frozen. That was quite obvious with the way his shoulders jumped til his ears and he rolled his eyes.

Honestly, how did loverboy manage to overlook that incredibly giant detail?

***

It had been a quiet evening. You were sitting on the couch, curled up with a book in hand and a cup of tea resting beside you, the hum of the city filtering in from the window. You had made peace with Jason's death years ago—taught yourself to move forward, or at least to pretend. The world had kept turning, and so had you.

Your phone buzzed, breaking the silence. It was from Dick.

[1 New Message from Dick]: We need to talk. I’m coming over.

Your heart dropped. You’d known Dick long enough to recognize when something was wrong. His texts were almost always direct or lighthearted, but this—this was different. The sudden dread sinking into your stomach left you feeling nauseous, your pulse quickening.

[You]: What’s going on?

No reply came immediately, making the sick feeling grow. The silence was worse than the text itself. Something was wrong. Your thoughts spun in circles, dread clouding your mind.

The last time you felt like this was when Jason—

There was a knock at the door. You hesitated before opening it, half-expecting the worst.

Dick stood in the doorway, looking disheveled. His eyes were wide, a mix of exhaustion and something darker etched into his features. His foot scuffed the carpet as he stepped inside, pacing immediately, his socks leaving smudges behind on your rug.

You bit your lip, unsure of how to address the storm brewing within him, but you couldn’t find the heart to scold him. He looked too rattled.

"Take a breath, Dickie. Whatever it is, you can tell me." You said softly, trying to soothe him as he walked back and forth.

It wasn’t until a few minutes of pacing that he stopped, shoulders hunched and face tense. He finally turned to you, locking eyes as if bracing himself, "Jason’s alive."

Your breath caught in your throat, but you didn’t let the shock show. You stayed eerily calm. You had learned long ago how to keep your composure, especially with Dick, who was always more emotional in moments like this.

"Sit down. Let me make us some tea. You can stay here tonight." You stood, walking to the kitchen, trying to create a sense of normalcy, "We’ll talk about this in the morning, okay? Everything will make sense once you get some rest."

Dick stared at you, disbelief clear in his eyes, "What? That's your response?"

You kept your back turned to him, calmly preparing the kettle. "Honey," You called back, voice low and steady, "this isn’t the first time you’ve said you’ve seen Jason. Remember?" You turned to face him, eyebrows furrowed in concern. You couldn’t help it; this wasn’t the first time Dick had experienced hallucinations. When Jason died, Dick’s grief had twisted his mind in ways you knew all too well.

"No, (Y/N), I’m being serious. This is real," Dick said, his voice firm, steady.

You rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to soothe him, though you could feel the tension in his body. "I’m sure it feels that way," you replied, not fully buying into what he was saying. You had seen him go through so much grief, and the idea of Jason being alive, after everything that had happened, felt like an impossible fantasy.

"No, (Y/N), I’m serious. We can dig up his grave right now. He’s alive, and he’s here." Dick continued, his tone unwavering. He was no longer the conflicted man you had known during the years of Jason’s death. This wasn’t a joke or another hallucination. Dick was calm, composed, and absolutely certain of what he was saying.

You frowned, the disbelief still hanging in the air, "That isn’t funny, Dick."

He sighed, "You're right, I'm sorry but Jason really is back. I’ve seen him. He’s part of the family again. We’ve all met him, and he’s doing okay. I know it sounds crazy, but he’s here. And he’s with us."

The words hung in the air, your mind racing to catch up with the gravity of what Dick was saying.

“How—how is that even possible?” You asked, your voice trembling slightly as your mind struggled to make sense of the words.

“It’s a long story,” Dick replied with a quiet sigh. He looked at you seriously, “Listen, I just wanted to let you know this way because I care about you. He asked about you recently, so I figured it would be a good time to let you know.”

You frowned, trying to absorb the flood of emotions and information that seemed to hit you all at once, “How long have you known?”

“A couple of months,” Dick said, his tone more subdued now, “He wasn’t too happy with us when he first came back... not when he found out the Joker was still alive.”

Your stomach tightened, a knot of unease twisting in your gut. You had seen firsthand the kind of damage the Joker and the events surrounding Jason’s death had done to the family. You could never forget the way it had all shattered Dick, how broken he was in the aftermath.

"But we've made amends in the past month. He’s back where he belongs."

You nodded slowly, trying to process the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you, “And you're for sure not hallucinating this?"

Dick gave you a sharp look, “I can’t blame you for wondering, but no. This is real. You can meet him, if you want.”

Your throat tightened. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to see Jason. But the overwhelming weight of everything—the shock, the grief that you had buried long ago, and the strange sense of unfamiliarity now attached to his return—left you struggling for words. Was he still the same person you knew? “I do want to… I just… I need some time. I think I need to wrap my head around this. It’s not every day that you find out someone came back to life.”

Truthfully, Jason’s death hadn’t affected your daily life as much as you expected. After moving for college, you didn’t see him much, and the memories of him didn’t cross your mind as often as they once had. Yes, in the months following his death, you’d had to take care of Dick—making sure he wasn’t running himself into the ground—but that had always been your role as his best friend.

But there was something about Jason that left a lingering hole in your life. Something unexpected. Jason had been such a bright, sweet soul—too young, too full of life. You'd imagined your future in Gotham, with your parents, and your best friend, and in that little corner, Jason’s glowing face would always be there. You couldn't picture him growing taller than you, still that fresh-faced sweet boy from the Narrows. Always there.

And then he wasn’t. And that absence—it left a space you hadn’t expected to feel.

The loss had settled in quietly, like a low hum beneath everything you did. There were nights where it kept you awake, wondering how scared he must have been in his final moments, wondering if he had known he was being taken from this world far too soon. The fact that he was gone had been a sharp, permanent reality, one you had learned to live with—but now, knowing that he was back... it was almost too much to take in.

Dick nodded, his expression softening, “I know. It’s a lot. But he’s here, and he’s trying to make things right. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

***

A lot had changed.

The last time you saw him, he was shorter than you, all sharp edges and boyish energy, always talking too fast and trying to keep up with Dick. Now he was taller, broader, a man where a boy used to be. The once roundness of his face had sharpened into defined angles, his voice deeper than you remembered.

And his eyes—God, his eyes.

There was something older in them now, something jaded and unspoken. You had heard the stories, whispered half-truths that nobody wanted to confirm. You had no idea how much of it was real, but the Jason Todd standing in front of you was not the same boy you remembered.

Still, none of that stopped you from grinning as you stepped forward.

"Jaybird!"

His breath hitched.

You didn’t notice.

You threw your arms around his neck, the way you used to when he was a kid, laughing as you pulled him into a tight hug. You didn't know whether he hugged you back, you couldn't really feel it, only feeling pins and needles run down the length of your body.

You didn’t really care if he hugged you back. All you felt was awe and bewilderment, and underneath it all, sheer and utter joy at the fact that he was here.

"Damn," You laughed, pulling away just enough to hold him at arm’s length, "When did you get so tall? And jacked? Holy crap, Jay, you could bench press me."

Jason let out something between a scoff and a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, "Maybe I should, just to prove a point."

"Please don’t. That’s so undignified." You poked at his bicep, grinning but there was a mist to your eyes that neither of you were going to address, a red tint to the tip of your nose, "My scrawny little brother, all grown up and scary-looking."

His smile twitched. Something flickered in his expression—too quick for you to catch—before he shook his head, rolling his eyes, "You’re impossible."

"As always," You smirked, nudging his ribs playfully before stepping back, "It’s so good to see you, Jason. I mean it."

You didn’t notice the way he swallowed hard. Didn’t see the way his fingers twitched at his sides, like he wanted to pull you back before you got too far away.

Instead, you shot him a bright smile, completely oblivious to the way his heart ached.

You still saw him as that kid trailing after Dick. The reckless, stubborn little brother. Ten years, and he was still trailing after you like a lost puppy. Still, longing for your attention.

Jason clenched his jaw, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he exhaled slowly.

"Yeah," he muttered, voice softer now. "Good to see you too, (Y/N)."

***

Even though you should have been the one to notice the big, burly man stepping into the dainty little coffee shop, you didn’t.

Jason did.

He spotted you first—tucked away in the corner, bathed in golden sunlight as you read, a delicate hand curled around a warm cup of tea. You looked so peaceful, completely unaware of him. Maybe you had caught a glimpse of him in your peripheral, but it hadn’t registered. After all, it hadn’t been that long since you’d seen him again.

He almost hesitated.

He almost continued his visit like he hadn’t even noticed you, but despite everything he’d been through—despite the fact that he was a grown man now—he still found himself feeling like his teenage self, craving your attention whenever you were in the room.

"(Y/N)?"

Your head snapped up, eyes darting around to locate the voice—until they landed on him.

The way your expression changed made his heart stutter.

First, confusion. Then, slow realization. And finally—joy.

A sunny grin broke across your face before you could stop it. Without a second thought, you launched yourself at him, tackling him in a hug that had nearby patrons stepping aside awkwardly.

"Jason!"

He stumbled back a few steps, caught entirely off guard. His arms hovered uncertainly over your waist, but before he could settle them on your hips, you pulled away just as quickly—smoothing out his jacket as if brushing off imaginary dust before cupping his face, taking in his utterly bewildered expression.

That same expression that his younger self shared. It made your heart swell.

You were like a hurricane blowing through him.

He knew you were extroverted and energetic—he had seen it in your expressions and interactions with his brother while growing up. But this was the first time your affection had ever been directed at him.

"Sorry! Haha! I'm still not used to seeing you alive and all—guess I got too excited!" You laughed, a little breathless, your thumbs brushing lightly over his cheekbones, "How are you? Do you wanna sit down and catch up?"

Jason blinked, something unreadable flickering across his face before the corner of his mouth twitched up.

"Yeah," he said, voice softer than you expected, "Yeah, I’d like that."

And before he knew it, he was in the eye of the storm, caught in the calm, in you.

***

Jason leaned against his motorcycle, arms crossed, watching the entrance of your workplace with a kind of nervous energy he hadn’t felt in years. He had sent the invite on a whim—just a casual “Hey, it’s been a while. Wanna grab a coffee?”—but now that he was actually here, waiting, he was starting to regret it.

The automatic doors of the laboratory building slid open, and there you were, stepping out onto the sidewalk, scanning the street.

Jason felt like he’d been punched in the chest.

He swallowed hard.

“Jaybird,” You greeted, pulling him into a tight hug, “Been a while.”

Jason let himself sink into it for half a second before forcing himself to let go, “Yeah, well. You’re hard to pin down these days.”

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, please. You’re the one always disappearing. You’re worse than Dick.”

Jason smirked, “Low blow.”

You looped an arm around his, tugging him toward the sidewalk, “C’mon, walk with me. I wanna hear what you’ve been up to.”

He let himself be pulled along, shaking his head, “What I’ve been up to? You’re the one always buried in the lab.”

You groaned, “Don’t remind me. I swear, one of these days, I’m just gonna quit and run away to a beach somewhere.”

Jason laughed, nudging your shoulder, “Yeah? You’d last, what, a week before you got bored?”

You pouted, “Okay, rude. But true.”

He watched you talk, listened to you ramble about work, about a bad coffee you’d had the other day, about a stray cat that kept showing up outside your apartment. He nodded in the right places, chimed in with sarcastic comments, but mostly, he just took in the way you looked at him.

The way you looked at him like nothing had changed.

Like he was still the same Jason you’d always known.

Like you had no idea how much he wasn’t.

You sighed, bumping into his side, “I missed you, y’know?”

His heart fluttered, a jolt of electricity running through it in a way that made him feel giddy, “You did?”

“Yeah, of course. It’s so great that we can just pick up where we left off, no awkwardness or anything. I guess that’s the good thing about family, huh?”

He froze for a fraction of a second at the word family. It took everything in him not to flinch. He forced a smile, trying to keep his cool.

“Yeah... I guess that’s the good thing, huh?” He pushed the words out, though they tasted bitter on his tongue.

You glanced up at him, offering a grin that made his heart ache. “Exactly.” You said, as if that word was enough to sum up everything. No hesitation, no second thoughts. Just family.

Jason walked beside you, his hands in his jacket pockets, fingers curling into fists. The sharp edge of his feelings threatened to spill over, but he kept them at bay. He wasn’t going to ruin this. Not when he finally had a chance to talk to you again after so long.

You kept chatting, unaware of the quiet storm brewing inside him. You told him about a new research project you were working on and your latest failed attempt at cooking. His responses were automatic—smiles, laughs, and the occasional comment—but his mind was elsewhere, caught in the web of thoughts he couldn’t untangle.

It was so easy for you to slip back into the role of the confident, carefree person you always were around him. And here he was, still stuck in the same old cycle of longing. Family. That was all he would ever be to you. Just family.

But what if it wasn’t enough anymore?

As you continued to walk, your voice light and carefree, Jason couldn’t help but wonder if he would ever get the courage to tell you how he felt. Would it even change anything? Or would it ruin everything, forever locking him into the “family” role he had never wanted to begin with?

You bumped into him again, snapping him out of his thoughts, “Hey, Jay, I’ve been thinking—I do these little arcade runs with Timmy and Dami once a month, you know, like a brotherly-sisterly bonding activity.”

Jason’s chest tightened. He knew. You, Dick, and he used to do that all the time ten years ago. It left a bittersweet feeling in his chest.

“You should join us sometime. You know, like old times.”

He smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, that sounds great.”

***

When Jason saw the amber-orange glow of the building from afar, his heart dropped. Without hesitation, he signaled the remaining members of the Bat Family before sprinting toward it. He didn’t like the path he was taking. He didn’t like where it was leading.

It almost seemed like he was heading toward—

No.

Jason came face to face with the burning S.T.A.R. Labs building.

Even through his fireproof armor, he could feel the searing heat radiating from the inferno. He watched as waves of people poured out, coughing, screaming, their faces twisted in pain and panic. His eyes scanned over them, searching.

None of them were you.

Without a second thought, he moved toward the building.

His comms buzzed to life.

"Red Hood, do not engage! You don’t have a plan!" Batman’s voice was firm, commanding.

"(Y/N) is in there!" Jason snapped, his tone leaving no room for argument. Then, he braved the flames.

He pushed through the burning hallways, doing whatever he could to help those in his path—clearing exits, carrying the wounded—until he reached the deeper levels of the lab. His lungs burned with the smoke, but he kept moving.

And then he heard it.

A bloodcurdling shriek.

Your shriek.

Jason sprinted toward the sound, shoving open what remained of your office door. The sight that greeted him made his stomach lurch—

You were trapped beneath a flaming bookshelf.

Soot covered your skin, your body trembling as you fought to free yourself. Your clothes were scorched, and judging by the way you were barely moving, you had sustained multiple burns. Panic filled your eyes.

Jason didn’t hesitate.

He threw the bookshelf off you, scooping you into his arms and holding you close as he ran out. You couldn’t think straight. The blinding pain in your shoulder overtook every other thought.

"You're gonna be okay. I'm gonna reset your shoulder." Jason murmured. The deep baritone of his gravelly voice had your panic subsiding by a fraction. He didn't sound worried, which meant you were going to be fine. Probably.

"Are you sure you know how to do that?" You really shouldn't have to ask that. Jason would never suggest it if he thought he might do more harm than good. You trusted him.

"Yeah, I've got you, baby. Trust me."

You inhaled sharply, pressing your bloody forehead to his and screwing your eyes shut. Jason watched as a fresh wave of tears poured down your cheeks and his stomach hollowed out at the sight of you in pain. You were trembling, chest shaking as you tried to contain your sobs.

"I do."

He rubbed a hand up and down your waist, trying to comfort you briefly before he grabbed your injured arm with both his hands. You took a shaky breath, trying to stifle another sob.

“You might want to hold onto something, doll—holy sh—!”

He was rudely cut off as your free hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, keeping his forehead pressed against yours—your only source of comfort.

In hindsight, you weren’t sure what logic had driven you to grab his hair. Perhaps you wanted him to feel as much pain as you were in—or as much pain as you knew he was about to put you through. Or maybe you just wanted to anchor him to you, to keep him close so you could draw comfort from his presence.

"Ready?"

You weren’t ready—but you sniffled and nodded anyway, hearing him count down from three. The next thing you heard was a crack, followed by the sound of your own scream as you clung to Jason’s hair, gripping so tightly you were afraid you’d tear out those perfect strands.

Jason pressed gentle kisses to the side of your head as you sobbed, his voice low and soothing. He told you how proud he was, that it was all over now, as he worked quickly to tie a tourniquet.

When everything was done, you collapsed against his chest, going limp in his arms as he carried you out of the building. You were handed off to a paramedic and gently placed on a gurney.

With bleary eyes, you watched him run back into the building, your consciousness slipping away before you could call out to stop him.

***

The steady beeping of the monitors was the first thing you heard when you groggily blinked awake. The second thing was the sound of someone muttering under their breath, followed by the unmistakable rustling of fabric.

You turned your head—slowly, because everything hurt—and found Jason slumped in the chair beside your bed, arms crossed, looking deeply unimpressed. His jacket was draped over the armrest, his boots scuffed, the soles stained with char.

“Hey, doll.” Jason greeted, his voice softer than usual.

You gave him a sleepy smile, “Hey, hero.”

He looked… tired. The kind of tired that wasn’t just from lack of sleep, but from worry. His hair was messier than usual, like he’d been running his hands through it all night. His jacket still smelled faintly of smoke.

“How long have you been here?” You asked.

Jason shrugged, leaning forward so his forearms rested on the bedrail, "Not long." But you both knew he was lying.

Your heart clenched, warmth curling in your chest, “You didn’t have to stay.”

Jason’s gaze flicked to yours, unreadable for a moment, “Yeah, I did.”

Your breath caught slightly. He didn’t elaborate—he didn’t need to.

You swallowed, looking down at where your hand rested against the blanket. You hesitated, then shifted it slightly, palm up, an invitation. Jason hesitated too, just for a second, before lacing his fingers with yours.

His grip was warm, steady. He didn’t squeeze too tight, mindful of your injuries, but he didn’t let go, either.

There was something unspoken between the two of you, something different now. Neither of you could quite place it—maybe it was the quiet familiarity of being here together, or maybe it was the way his hand fit into yours, a little more firmly than before. But you both knew something had shifted. It hung in the air, thick and heavy, but neither of you dared to speak of it.

“You scared the hell outta me,” He admitted, voice rougher now, quieter.

“I’m okay.” You squeezed his hand, reassuring, “Thanks to you.”

Jason scoffed, but there was no bite to it, “Yeah, no thanks to your dumbass trying to save your research instead of yourself. Next time, leave the dangerous work to the big boys?”

You rolled your eyes, clearing your throat, “Next time, try not making me scream so hard when you reset my shoulder. I think I burst a blood vessel.”

Jason smirked, rubbing his thumb absently over your knuckles, “I can make you scream plenty other ways, baby.”

Your scoffed at this, rolling your eyes but choosing not to respond. Stupid bastard, pretending like he was all suave when you both knew underneath it all, Jason Todd was an unapologetic romantic.

You let your fingers tighten around his, anchoring yourself to the warmth of him.

Jason squeezed back, like he understood.

“Get some rest." He murmured, shifting slightly so his arm rested on the mattress, keeping your hands tangled together, “I’ll be here.”

You sighed softly, your body finally relaxing, “Promise?”

Jason leaned forward, pressing a lingering kiss to the back of your hand, “Promise.”

***

Jason climbed through your window with practiced ease and you didn't even flinch as he let himself in, still in his Red Hood get-up. This wasn't the first time he was doing this, nor would it be his last. It had been this way ever since you had been escorted back by him from the hospital.

Jason checked up on you almost every day, making sure you were dressing your burns properly, even redressing the ones on your back. On those nights, when you felt incredibly vulnerable, you knew there was no one you’d feel safer with than Jason.

You merely glanced at him from your spot behind the counter, continuing to slice the cucumber using the mandolin.

The fearsome Red Hood found his way into your kitchen, nudging you out of the way and washing his hands. He ignored your protests, grabbing the mandolin from you and snatching the cucumber, "This thing's sharp."

You rolled your eyes, "I was being careful."

He didn't even take off his domino, only tossing his helmet onto your couch in his rush to help you, "I didn't think you knew how."

You scoffed at this, lightly slapping his shoulder even though you were well aware that you could've put more strength into it and he still would've felt nothing, "Go shower while I heat up dinner you loser."

He laughed, stepping aside and letting you grab the freshly sliced cucumber so you could add the spices to make cucumber salad. He pecked your temple, grabbing the towel you had left warming for him in the dryer before stepping into the shower and washing the grime of Gotham away.

When he emerged from the shower, dressed in the sweats he had left there, you caught a glimpse of his bare chest. Letting out a flustered laugh, you quickly averted your gaze.

“Oh my god, put on a shirt!”

Jason just cackled, completely unbothered, as he rummaged through your dresser drawer. He disappeared for a moment, only to reappear in the kitchen after tossing his wet towel in the washer.

This time, when you looked at him, the laugh that escaped was less flustered and more outright incredulous.

“What on earth are you wearing?”

A baby tee on you was cute—it rode up just enough to show a teasing sliver of skin, something that Jason always found distracting. But on him? It was absolutely ridiculous.

The fabric strained around his biceps like it was fighting for its life, and you were genuinely concerned that if he flexed even a little, the sleeves would burst apart. The hem barely covered his pecs, leaving his abs completely on display. And across his chest, in bold letters, were the words:

“I’m sorry I have great tits.”

You covered your mouth, shaking with laughter, "Of all the shirts I have."

“And? Is it wrong to own my truth?”

You groaned, throwing a dish towel at his face while still giggling, “Take it off.”

“Make me.”

***

When Jason woke up to the sound of you bustling around his apartment, he sat up in bed, hair mussed, and found you rifling through his closet. You held up a formal button-up shirt, tapping your chin in consideration.

He watched you, still groggy, taking in your figure dressed in one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxer shorts. You’d stopped by after dinner last night and ended up crashing on his couch, not even stirring when he carried you to bed.

Jason glanced at the clock, “Don’t you— I don’t know— have a job to get to?”

You spared him a glance over your shoulder, “Oh, you’re awake. I figured instead of going all the way back to my place, I’d just borrow something of yours and wear the same jeans from yesterday. I’m in the lab today anyway, so it doesn’t really matter what I have on underneath.”

He hummed, stretching his arms over his head with a yawn.

“Left breakfast for you in the microwave, by the way.”

Stepping behind you, he pressed a quick, absentminded kiss to your temple before heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

When he emerged, you had swapped the button-up for one of his t-shirts, knotting it in the middle so it wouldn’t look so oversized. He smirked at the sight of you checking yourself out in the mirror, tugging at the hem, making sure it didn’t look odd.

“Looks better on you anyway.” He murmured, leaning against the doorframe.

You rolled your eyes but grinned at him through the mirror, “Yeah, yeah. I bet you say that to all the girls stealing your clothes.”

Jason scoffed, stepping closer, “Oh yeah, all the girls. My closet’s just a free-for-all at this point.”

You laughed, swatting at his chest as he loomed behind you. He caught your wrist with ease, fingers curling lightly around it, his touch warm and familiar.

You pouted up at him, flashing your best pleading puppy-dog eyes. He raised an amused brow.

“Give me a ride to work?”

Jason huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he looked down at you, “You’re really pushing your luck, you know that?”

You grinned, tilting your head slightly, “Come on, Jay. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

He narrowed his eyes, “You always let me pick the music.”

“Yeah, but this time, I won’t complain about your broody, ‘I’m a tortured soul’ playlists.”

Jason scoffed, releasing your wrist only to flick your forehead lightly, “First of all, my playlists are not broody—”

“They absolutely are.” You interrupted, smirking.

He ignored you, “Second, you know I’d drive you anyway. You don’t have to beg.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand over your heart, “So you like driving me around? I knew it. You’re secretly my personal chauffeur.”

Jason rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the smirk tugging at his lips, “Yeah, yeah. Go make me a cup of coffee so I don't fall asleep at the wheel while dropping your lazy ass off.”

You saluted him playfully before bouncing toward the kitchen. Jason lingered for a moment, watching you move around his space so effortlessly, so comfortably. It was dangerous, the way you fit into his life so easily. But even as he tried to shake off the thought, he was already reaching for his keys, knowing damn well he’d drive you anywhere you asked.

***

You shut the door to your apartment only after the elevator doors finally closed, ensuring your friend had left. The lights in your home remained off, and darkness enveloped you as you carefully navigated the room, kicking off your heels.

"Who was that?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin, giving yourself whiplash when you swung around to face the intruder in your apartment—only to sigh in relief when you were met by the familiar hunk of a silhouette.

"You scared the hell out of me, Jason." You grumbled, now having to turn on the lights so you could look for where you had dropped your keys in shock.

"Who was that?" He repeated and this time you picked up on something in his tone. Less inquisitive and more interrogative. You arched a brow at him, dumping the keys into the bowl by the door and placing your handbag onto the kitchen island.

"What's with the attitude?"

Even though you continued to bustle about the apartment, you couldn't help but steal glances of his unmoving figure on the couch. He was never like this, he usually helped you out of your coat, ran the shower, something.

His indifference was making you antsy.

"Damian said he saw you out on a date."

That had you stopping midway of unloading your dishwasher, your reflection in the freshly clean dishes staring back at you with an expression of befuddlement.

'Damian saw me on a date? Me? On a date? When? Where? With who?!'

"What are you even talking about, Jason?" You scoffed, slightly off-put by this sudden turn in behavior. You hadn't been on a date since prehistoric times, it felt like. Jason felt the need to break into your apartment (not technically breaking in considering he had a key), sit in the dark and interrogate you in your own home all because of some baseless accusation that Damian of all people made.

"He said he saw you talking it up with some man at town square today and that you got into his car."

Jason finally stood up, walking over to where you stood in the kitchen and your eyes raked over his figure multiple times. Something about this was just wrong; his stiff posture, the frown on his face, the hard eyes.

"I was attending a conference happening there with a co-worker—we drove up there together."

Jason’s eyes scanned your face, and a flicker of offense sparked in your chest. Did he think you were lying? And even if you were—what business was it of his?

"A co-worker, huh?" He said, his voice tight and laced with something sharp, "How come this is the first I'm hearing of this? Lord knows you'd usually beg me to drive you there."

You frowned, "What is up with you? Why does it matter? You're behaving like a jealous boyfriend, and last I checked, we weren't dating."

That was clearly not the right thing to say, judging by the way Jason’s face stoned over—expression cold and unreadable, yet barely concealing the red-hot fury simmering just beneath the surface.

"Excuse me?" He seethed, stepping closer to you. If it had been anyone else, you would've taken a step back. But this was Jason, and you didn't feel any discomfort when he stepped into your bubble.

"You call me when you're down and need someone to talk to. We literally spend every night together to the point I have a drawer in my dresser for your clothes! (Y/N), you've held me on nights when I can't sleep!" He cried, voice tight with frustration, "If that isn't dating, then what the fuck is this? What the fuck are we?"

He stepped closer, crowding into your space until your back hit the refrigerator with a soft thud. His palms pressed flat against the wall on either side of you, caging you in.

"(Y/N)..." He whispered, leaning in closer. He smelled of artificial ocean in a bottle and sharp menthol, a mix that shouldn’t have been so intoxicating. Heat radiated off him, and suddenly, you felt far too warm.

You were so close to throwing away all your inhibitions until that one feeling—heavy and unshakable—anchored your stomach, dragging you back down.

"Stop."

He did.

You felt him sigh against your lips, a hair away from actually meeting his. He shook his head, "I should've known."

He didn’t look at you once, just left his key on the counter and shut the door behind him. Your back remained pinned to the fridge as the sound of his footsteps faded down the hallway, each one echoing in time with your pounding heart.

'Go after him. Stop him. Do something.'

And yet, your feet stayed rooted in place.

***

The next time you imagined seeing Jason, it would be at a family event neither of you could find a way out of. You’d steal a longing glance when his back was turned, spending the rest of the night waiting, hoping, that he'd return your gaze.

You never imagined that the next time you’d see him—talk to him—would be in the back alley behind a noisy club. You hadn’t meant for this to happen—really, you hadn’t.

You’d just gotten off a particularly rough shift, and even though all you wanted was to crawl into the quiet of your room and call Jason just to hear his voice, instead, a coworker had convinced you to blow off some steam and grab a drink.

You hadn't expected to see Jason there—especially not with another girl.

“When I said stop, I didn’t mean stop forever and get over me!” You cried out, frustration and overwhelming emotion cracking through your voice. Seeing him with Artemis had unleashed an arsenal of feelings you couldn’t even begin to sort through, and before you knew it, you were picking a fight with him—desperate for his attention to be back on you instead of her.

You were envious of her strong build and long, lustrous hair. You were angry with yourself for resenting her, even though she’d done absolutely nothing wrong. You were hurt because it looked like Jason was having a good time. And most of all, you were confused—why did it upset you so much?

“Would you rather I stay as your little plaything forever? Stringing me along just enough to keep me loving you, hoping for more, only to push me away with some bullshit excuse?”

His face darkened, and your stomach hollowed out. Jason had been frustrated with you many times before; you’d argued until he was red in the face. But he’d never looked at you like this—like he hated you.

You bit your lip, the fight seeping out of you. Because at the end of the day… he was right, wasn’t he? You had been playing with him—stringing him along, showing him glimpses of the most intimate corners of your life, but still expecting him to magically know where you’d drawn the invisible lines of unspoken boundaries.

His jaw hardened, and you dropped your gaze. Jason didn’t deserve this. Inside the club was a beautiful, strong woman who he had every right to show interest in. And you had no right to be upset about it.

“You’re right, Jason. I—I’m sorry for ruining your date. You should get back in there before she thinks you stood her up.”

With your hands pressed to your chest to stop yourself from reaching out for him, you sidestepped his domineering presence and turned to walk away.

“Are you fucking kidding me? That’s it?”

You froze. Turning back, you found him ruffling his hair in frustration, annoyance radiating off him in waves as he stalked closer, stopping just a couple of feet away.

“You don’t get to fucking do that! You don’t get to tell me to stop, then get mad at me for actually doing what you asked. You don’t get to make a scene and not even tell me why!”

That was it.

You closed the distance between you two, clutching the collar of his jacket with trembling fists and yanking him down to you, slanting your lips against his in a rough, desperate kiss.

“That’s why,” You whispered, lowering yourself back onto your heels and letting go of his jacket as you turned to leave—

“Oh no, you’re not.”

Jason’s arm coiled around your hips, pulling you back against him as he crushed his lips to yours once more. You sighed against him, your fingers twisting into his hair, your other hand slipping under his jacket, fisting the fabric of his shirt.

It was everything you had spent months pretending you didn’t want.

And you couldn’t stop.

***

Bonus:

"Hi, honey." You said, voice sweet and saccharine, as you entered the dining room of the manor.

"Hi, pookie." Dick replied, not looking up from his phone, lounging on the couch.

There was a pause, followed by an exaggerated noise of disgust from you, "I could not have been more clearly speaking to my boyfriend." You teased, your tone playful but pointed.

This time, Dick looked up from his phone, raising an eyebrow. His expression shifted from confusion to realization as he saw you standing with your hands wrapped around Jason's neck, very clearly leaning in for a kiss to greet him instead.

"Oh, for god's sake." Dick groaned, rolling his eyes, "Ugh, you both are disgusting. You know I used to be her honey?"

Jason raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips, "Get used to it, geezer," he quipped, draping an arm around your shoulder and pecking your temple, "She likes younger men."

***

Forever Taglist:

@simonsbluee

@notslaybabes

@superheroesaremyjam113263

@writers-whirlwind

DC Taglist:

@tchatso

@p--e--a--c--h--e--s

@sometimeseverythingsucks

@sokkas-honour

@unstable1902

@lostgirlheart

@missdisapear

@tadpole-san

@isawachickeninatree

@uxavity

@battlenix

@capricorn-stark

@evermoore580

@dumbbitchgalore

@fuckingjinkies

@some-lovely-day

@that-one-fangirl69

@el-hrts

Requested tags:

@theendofthematerialgworl

@itzmeme

@catharticdesire

@joonunivrs

@mercuryathens

I don't want to die. 😥

Israel continues the massacres in Gaza.. 232 souls taken in less than an hour! We are dying before your eyes—please, don’t leave us alone! Save us, do something... protest, donate, participate. I don’t want to die!

Vetted by: @90-ghost here

Donation link:

─ 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘪𝘷. (𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘴) 🐅

⤷ summary: spain and canada. lando's rizz is negative, mission is failed. plus, mclaren pr is about to fuck shit up 🗣️

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liked by ynusername, zbrownceo, and 42,908 others

mclaren spain you were forgettable at best 😔 on to the next one

18,980 others

user1 y/n don't insult your team on the team account challenge

mclaren is it really an insult if it's true

user2 we got a lando photo but at what cost

user3 lando fans can never win here

mclaren why you would ever choose to be a lando fan to begin with is beyond me

user2 you're so right queen i'm sorry

landonorris DON'T APOLOGIZE WTF

user2 fuck both of y'all honestly

user4 at least mclaren fans can always count on content, even if we can't expect results 😭

user5 lando and y/n in their friendship era, how the fuck did we get here

landonorris you're posting me now? oh you want me so bad 🥴

mclaren sending this to hr immediately

ynusername YOU'RE FIREEEDDDDDDD

user6 damn she logged into both accounts just to make sure he heard her ass 💀 double homicide

user7 oscar fans i can't even tell if we won or lost

user8 we didn't get a face pic but... we didn't get whatever the fuck the 3rd slide is

landonorris guys pLEASE

landonorris i won't post it she says... it's just for me she says

user9 LMAOOOO AND YOU BELIEVED HER???? 🤣 🫵

landonorris going dark, no one call me

user9 was anyone going to anyways 💀

user10 LET HIM GET UPPPP

oscarpiastri i'll pay you 20 dollars if you don't ever do this to me

mclaren 🤝

mclaren i mean you were never the target but now you will be if i don't get my money!!!!

oscarpiastri oh ok

lilyzneimer i have pictures you can you use if you need bb <3

oscarpiastri WHOSE SIDE ARE YOU ON

zbrownceo Very funny Y/n! Keep up the good work 👍

mclaren Thanks boss! (:

landonorris ZAK WHY

user11 zak is so supportive now, wait until he sees her comments 💀

zbrownceo I have seen her comments! Very funny! 👍

user11 blink twice zak, we can help you

maxverstappen1 This is the highlight of my week, thank you Y/n!

mclaren hey max verstappen of redbull racing! not sure if you heard but you did win the grand prix this weekend

maxverstappen1 No i know, this is just definitely better.

ynusername where's my photo credits 🫵

mclaren my bad bbg 😍

user12 nurse she got out again

oscarpiastri we'll win next time!!

mclaren who told you that 🤨

oscarpiastri the voices in my head

logansargeant you hold on bro, we'll find your meds soon

user13 i think moto moto likes you ahh image

user14 i need to shrink him and put him in my pocket and keep him there

user15 which one?

user14 lando

landonorris nuh uh, pick again

maxfewtrell you can't post pictures without consent mate

mclaren i didn't??

landonorris i didn't consent.

mclaren who are you gonna believe max? me? or the solid concrete evidence in front of you

user16 he looks like he can do some crazy tricks on a trampoline

landonorris this is the only comment about myself that hasnt made me viscerally angry

oscarpiastri unfortunately i feel the opposite

user17 lany/n at it again

user18 literally what the fuck do you mean

user17 if you dont get it, i can't explain it to you

user18 okay cryptic ass, fuck you 🙄

user19 they're in love guys, just wait and see

user20 yall just love saying stupid shit on this page huh

user19 i hate getting accused of some shit i actually do 😡 like yeah i do love that but who told you

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user20 op be so fr right now

user21 everytime one of these illiterate f1 drivers pulls one of the hottest women on earth a fairty dies

user21 *fairy

user22 fairty

user21 you shut the fuck up 🫵

user23 people when coworkers are seen together at their place of work

user24 do you hug your coworkers and follow them like a lost puppy when you could be on a break

user23 wtf no

user24 EXACTLY MF, THIS IS NOT COWORKERS BEING COWORKERS

user25 history will say they were just colleagues 😔

opeightywon this shit is a national tragedy

user26 every time i see a post like this i think about the fact that she has probably seen this and i shiver

user27 honestly praying on their downfall

opeightywon wtf

user28 lando fans be normal challenge

user27 idgaf about that white man, she's just too hot for him 😕

opeightywon oh yeah real

user29 i need another youtube video where they stare at each other longingly again asap or i fear i may start having withdrawal symptoms

user30 another hot girl lost to an average white man's swagless looks and cringe fail personality i feel sick

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liked by landonorris, lilyzneimer, and 44,786 others

mclaren not our best results in canada but we improved i guess 🙄 but on a much better, more exciting note: NEW MCLAREN YOUTUBE CHALLENGE OUT GO GO GO GO

17,998 comments

user31 my crops are watered, my skin is clear, my funds are tripled

mclaren all me 😮‍💨

user32 "yay challenge video" we all cry in unison

user33 OSCAR FANS IS IT REAL??? HAS IT COME TRUE??? IS THAT A FACE PIC I SEE

user34 and it's good quality too 🤩 what did we do to deserve this

mclaren you don't, but oscar bought me coffee all weekend

oscarpiastri yes i bribed her, i feel no shame

user35 lando's back in the dog house bro, he's back to no face pics

user36 but look at his beautiful brown eyes

mclaren babe they're greenish blue with the TINIEST bit of brown 💀

user37 how long you gotta stare at a man's eyes to know the exact paint blend 🫵

user38 DOWN HORRENDOUSSSSSS

lilyzneimer insert comical heart eyes here

mclaren flirting with your man 🤢 on MY cellular device

lilyzneimer my bad bb, he doesn't mean anything to me anyways 🥴

oscarpiastri ok what the fuck

danielricciardo DROP THE CAMERA SETTINGS AND MY LIFE IS YOURS

mclaren check dms 🤲

danielricciardo thanks love you're the best

landonorris LOVE??? LMAOOOO

user39 bro is losing the dgaf war MISERABLY

user40 the way lando is staring at her the whole time she's behind the camera 😫 oh he's not even down bad, bro's down under

landonorris can i get the camera settings

mclaren has anyone ever told you how good you are at photography?? i'm not saying that, i'm just asking 😀

landonorris oKAY fuck you.

user41 the way she doesn't even pretend to care about the results

landonorris i know 🙄

mclaren i know p13 is nawttt talking back to me right now

user41 OHHH SHE ATE YOU UP HUH

landonorris y'all are some fake ass fans fr

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8:57 PM.

Y/n stared at the flashing numbers on the digital clock in the boardroom and huffed quietly. The table in front of her was covered in a mix of shredded mozzarella cheese and vibrant, red pizza sauce. Flour with evidence of handprints and bits of pizza dough decorated the wood and the woman internally sighed at the thought of clean up. Eventually she would have to get back to work.

Lando was on his phone across the table from her, and she fought the urge to stare at him. Oscar had left a while ago, having an earlier flight than them out of Canada. Lando and her had made the executive decision to stay and finish the pizza the two men had made during the "not my hands" YouTube challenge. It was messy, and didn't fully resemble a proper pizza, but it tasted good enough if not a little bit burnt. The two had been sitting in a comfortable silence for the time being while they ate.

In the time Y/n had gotten to know the British man, both on and off the track, she found herself warming up to him considerably. He was kinder than she gave him credit for at the beginning of the season, and far funnier. She could see now that more often than not he spoke without thinking or having any consideration, and maybe he was more than a little bit arrogant, but he also felt things deeply and cared passionately.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Lando's eyes met hers and he smirked. Y/n's face burned but she rolled her eyes at him and took another bite of their burnt pizza. Her eyes caught the sound of him placing his phone on the table, and when she looked up again he was leaning his body across the table and toward her instead.

"What are you staring at? Hm?" He teased and she scoffed.

"You," she started and took another bite of her pizza, "have pizza sauce all over your face, you idiot. And I'm just thinking, not sure if you're familiar with the concept." He grabbed a napkin quickly and began wiping rapidly at his chin and mouth, and even his nose. She couldn't help but laugh loudly. There was nothing on his face. He was perfect actually. Unfortunately.

"Did I get it? Why didn't you tell me sooner, traitor!" She doubled over but nodded anyways.

"What are you thinking about?" he questioned as he settled back down.

"Just the season, you and Oscar," she muttered.

"Me? Thinking of little ol' me when I'm right here in front of you," she rolled her eyes with a groan.

"You have selective hearing Lando," he laughed and nodded.

"Well what have you thought about it? The season I mean. And myself of course, don't care much what you think about Osc," he leaned on his hand and stared at her intently. Y/n couldn't help that being stared at by Lando felt a little bit like being ocean, being pulled and pushed by the moon's gravity. Her brain didn't work properly around him.

Or maybe I'm just really dramatic and he's just hot, she thought miserably, Probably the latter.

"I just think maybe you and me got off on the wrong foot," she said as she fumbled with the lid of her water bottle, "and I think that maybe I enjoy this job a lot more than I thought I would." The comments seemed to sober Lando's mood up slightly.

Maybe I shouldn't have been truthful. Maybe it shouldn't have been that serious.

"What did you think of me?" He asked quietly. "When you met me I mean."

"Do you want me to be honest?" He looked at her quizzically.

"Of course I want you to be honest Y/n, or I wouldn't have asked."

"I thought you were kind of an asshole," she whispered and he laughed.

"So the beef was real for you," he smiled slightly and she let her face fall gently into her hands.

"Yeah," she breathed out a laugh, "yeah maybe a little."

"Doesn't seem like a little," he goaded and she shot him a glare.

"Okay Lord Lando, maybe more than a little," he pointed at her triumphantly.

"AHA! So it was the instagram comment. I thought you knew I was kidding," A loud groan filled the room as she smacked her head on the table. Lando's giggling could probably be heard down the hall but Y/n found she didn't care all that much anymore.

"It wasn't just the instagram comment," she defended weakly. There was a brief silence as Lando stared into space and shook his head.

"Wow... I can't believe you were actually mad at me and I just didn't know."

"It wasn't that big of a deal I guess, I just felt like you didn't really take me seriously."

"Well I mean you're not a very serious person," Y/n's heart fell to her stomach.

"What?" She asked, staring at him. She couldn't have heard him right.

"Well it's just that you're not very serious are you? Like since I met you, it's never felt like you were a serious sort of person." He added as if that was some sort of defense.

As if that isn't more hurtful.

"You're not like Zak or Andrea, or really anyone else here you know? You're just you, you're different. It was hard to be serious with you here because that's just who you are." He continued.

God just shut up, please for the love of God just shut up.

"This is my place of work Lando," she muttered bitterly. "I mean do you hear yourself." His eyes widened and he put his hands out placatingly. Like she was some sort of rabid animal he needed to calm down.

"No no no," he muttered quickly and stood up to round the table, "that's not what I meant Y/n, you know that."

"Stop Lando, just stop," she said as she began to clear off the table.

Why did she expect him to be different. What made her think he could've changed.

"You made it perfectly clear what you mean. What you think of me and of my work, my career" she spit out, swiping everything on the table into the trash. They hadn't finished eating the pizza and now it was in the bin, but Lando didn't deserve to eat the pizza she helped him make. He didn't deserve to be here at all. He wasn't her friend, he was her coworker and nothing else. It was better she accept that now.

"You misunderstood what I said," he grabbed her arm to stop her from cleaning and she whipped it out of his grasp.

"Stop Lando," she said raising her voice. She knew her eyes were teary but she didn't care. She knew her face was red with embarrassment and her hands were shaking with the force of her humiliation but she didn't care. Lando Norris could go fuck himself.

He looked at her in shock and winced as he saw her face. She steeled herself. She had never cried over a man before, why would she do it now.

"You need to leave, you have a flight in the morning," she said emotionlessly. "And I have to clean so I can go home." He tried to speak and she put her hand up, stepping away from him.

"Get out please, you're in my way," she said and his brows scrunched. He was angry? Good, so was she.

"I'm in your way?" He asked incredulously, as if she didn't have any reason to be upset. "You're not even going to hear me out?" He scoffed.

"No Lando, I don't have time for this. I have a job to do and you're in my way," she said emphasizing the words as if speaking to a child. His face fell. He looked angry.

"Whatever Y/n. What fucking ever," he muttered, grabbing his bag and storming out. Y/n waited. Footsteps in the hallways continued until a far off door slammed.

Y/n wilted like an unwatered plant as tears began to fall.

So much for friends.

She knew deep down she was hurt about much more than just friendship.

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this is the second to last chapter of part one! i hope you enjoy! please feel free to comment and send requests, i'm excited to hear your thoughts <3

-

𝙩𝙖𝙜 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

@lemon-lav @slutforpopculture @m4rt10ne @urfavsgf @sadsierra2 @96jnie @sltwins @poppyflower-22 @alliumiae @livelovesports @liberty-barnes @the-holy-trinity-l @iliwyss @awritingtree @redpool @elliotts1one @velentine @chaoticmessneutralplease @5sospenguinqueen @charizznorizz @2pagenumb @mxdi0 @cwiphswmwasohmm @tremendousstarlighttragedy @lnspipedrm @itseightbeats @tinycoffeeroom @woozarts @personwhoisther @a-beaverhausen @love-simon @annabellelee @ravisinghs-wife @chezmardybum @greantii @weekendlusting @monserelates @sapphiccloud @halleest @deamus-liv @gigigreens @morenofilm @laneyspaulding19 @lanireadss @dear-fifi @moldyshorts1997 @oliviarodrigostan13 @eugene-emt-roe @ilivbullyingjeongin @im-a-ghost666