#and i will find it‼️‼️‼️‼️

[pbaz7]

FINDING PEACE IN YOU: PART 8

paige x azzi

warning: sexual content ‼️

word count: 12.7k

A/N: Not going to lie the plot on this is very minimal towards the end. BUT I do think the way I wrote things advances the story so if you are uncomfortable with reading sexual content just lmk and I’m more than happy to post a little synopsis of this chapter and the important aspects of their growth that I kinda wove into the scenes. Don’t want anyone to miss out just because of their preference! Anywho this is for everybody who’s been begging for a part 2 of heat check! Let me know what you think and leave reactions if you can 🫶🏼

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When Paige finally got back into town in the middle of the day on Friday, she checked the shared calendar on her phone, scanning Azzi’s schedule for the day. Seeing a small block of free time, she smiled to herself, already turning her car out of the Dallas facility toward her next destination. She made a quick stop, grabbing Azzi’s lunch from a spot they both loved, then ducked into a flower shop that was right on the corner. With a small bouquet of roses in hand, she headed back to her car.

A few minutes later she parked out front of Azzi’s clinic, locking the door behind her as she stepped out. The building was quiet, sun filtering through the glass entryway as Paige made her way inside, the elevator dinging softly as she pressed the button for the correct floor. Her hands full—lunch in one, flowers in the other.

Upon walking into the clinic, Kelly looked up from her desk and smiled warmly. “Long time no see.”

Paige returned the smile politely, adjusting the food in her hand. “Hey, Kelly. How you been?”

“I’m good, thank you for asking,” Kelly replied, before nodding toward the door. “She’s in her office—I’ll buzz you in.”

“Appreciate you,” Paige said, waiting for the soft click of the door before pushing through and making her way down the familiar office. She passed the recovery and training rooms and when she reached Azzi’s office, the door was cracked open. Paige paused in the doorway for a moment, her eyes tracing the scene in front of her—Azzi in a low squat, her knees pressed together tightly because of the skirt she had on, documents spread neatly across the floor as she skimmed through them.

Paige stepped inside quietly, setting the food down on the desk before speaking. “Anybody ever tell you how sexy you look in a skirt?”

Azzi’s head turned at the sound of Paige’s voice, a startled smile spreading across her face as she caught sight of her standing there—flowers in one hand, that familiar blue in her eyes lighting up the room more than the sun spilling through the window. Still crouched, Azzi arched an eyebrow and said, “Only every single day you’re in town.”

Paige grinned at the response, stepping further inside and nudging the door shut behind her with her foot. She set the flowers down next to the food on Azzi’s desk, eyes lingering for a moment too long on the way Azzi’s skirt hugged her legs. “Damn shame I wasn’t here yesterday then,” she murmured.

Azzi stood, smoothing down the front of her skirt with a smile. “You’re lucky I like surprises,” she said, her voice dropping just slightly as she moved toward her; Paige’s eyes raking over her shamelessly as she did. “Mmm, I’m definitely lucky.”

When Azzi reached her, her hands slid around Paige’s neck with ease, as though they hadn’t been apart for any time. Paige’s arms wrapped around Azzi’s waist, pulling her in until there was barely any space between them. Their lips met in a slow kiss—warm and familiar, yet still filled with a deep spark. Azzi’s nails grazed the back of Paige’s neck, just enough to make her hum against her mouth.

“I missed you,” Paige whispered into the kiss.

Azzi smiled against her lips, the kiss deepening for a moment before she pulled back enough to look Paige in the eye. “Yeah?” she whispered, her fingers still gently brushing the nape of Paige’s neck.

Paige hummed in response, her arms tightening around Azzi’s waist like she wasn’t ready to let go of her yet. Their lips met again as Azzi began to walk them back toward her desk, her steps guided by instinct and Paige’s gentle pressure.

When they reached the edge, Paige gave Azzi’s butt a small squeeze, earning a small breathy laugh from her between kisses. Azzi pulled back to look at her again, eyes a little dazed, cheeks flushed.

“I miss you more,” she said quietly. Paige's lips curved into a soft smile as Azzi reached up her thumb wiping the smudge of her lip gloss from the corner of Paige’s mouth. Paige started to step back to gesture toward the food she brought, but Azzi’s fingers tightened around the fabric of the black tank top, tugging her back in.

“Where you going?”

Paige laughed, “I got you lunch gorgeous,” she said, nodding toward the desk.

Azzi didn’t even look. Her eyes were still on Paige’s lips, then drifted lower—across her shoulders, the definition in her arms, the dip of her collarbone exposed by the tank top. With her fingers still holding Paige, she mumbled distractedly, “I’m not hungry.”

Paige smirked at Azzi’s response, dipping her head to press a soft kiss just beneath her jaw, whispering against her skin, “You sure?”

Azzi’s breath hitched slightly, her fingers sliding up the curve of Paige’s bicep, eyes fluttering as she whispered back, “Positive.” Her head tilting, offering Paige more access as her body leaned into the warmth between them.

Paige chuckled, letting her lips trail a few more kisses along Azzi’s jawline, before pulling back. “Promise I’mma get you right later,” she said. “Lemme just feed you before your next meeting. I know you haven’t had nothing but coffee today cause it’s Friday.”

Azzi exhaled, relenting with a soft smile as Paige finally stepped away to grab the lunch she’d brought. She nodded toward Azzi’s chair. “Go sit down.”

With a small shake of her head and a grin, Azzi obeyed, walking over and easing into her chair. Paige handed her the roasted salmon and quinoa bowl, her usual.

Paige sat on Azzi’s desk, settling right in front of her chair. From that vantage point, Azzi couldn’t help but take her in—up close now instead of over FaceTime. The stitches near Paige’s eyebrow had been removed, only needing to be in for a few days but there was still a small scar there that would eventually fade. A few bruises painted her arms in faded purples and greens and a few scratches looked newer than others.

Azzi chewed slowly, her eyes trailing over every detail before spearing a piece of salmon with her fork. Without saying anything, she lifted it toward Paige like she always did.

Paige laughed softly, leaning back away from the fork. “Stop, that's for you.”

“You need some,” Azzi countered easily.

“I don’t—” Paige started, but Azzi cut her off with just a look. One of those looks Paige had grown used to.

Paige sighed, the sound exaggerated but affectionate, and leaned forward just enough for Azzi to feed her. “You don’t play fair,” she mumbled as she took the bite.

Azzi smiled, pleased with herself. “Never claimed I did.”

Paige grinned, licking a bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth after the bite. “We got a date later.”

Azzi chewed slowly, one eyebrow lifting as she eyed her. “You could barely keep your eyes open this morning when we were on FaceTime.”

Paige shrugged casually. “I’ll be aight. I wanna take you out.”

Azzi laughed, spearing another piece of salmon and offering it to Paige. “And where would we be going, exactly?” she asked, leaning in just a little. Azzi already knew she’d say yes no matter the answer.

“There’s this wine tasting.”

Azzi perked up before she could catch herself, her eyes lighting up slightly, and Paige caught it instantly, grinning. “Exactly.” Paige added casually, “I prolly can’t drive though.”

“Sam can take us,” Azzi replied without hesitation, trying to keep her tone even, but Paige was already grinning.

“Ohh, so you’re interested now,” Paige teased, watching Azzi try—and fail—to go back to being nonchalant.

Azzi shook her head, feigning indifference. “Not that interested.”

“Nahh,” Paige laughed, leaning back on her hands a little, “don’t start backpedaling now. I saw that lil sparkle in your eye.”

Azzi rolled her eyes, getting another bite of food and popping it in her mouth. “Whatever,” she mumbled around the fork.

Paige just watched her with a soft smile, clearly amused. “I missed you, pretty girl.”

Azzi’s chewing slowed for a second before she put her bowl down beside her and moved closer to where Paige was sitting on the edge of the desk. Her hands slid up Paige’s thighs, settling just above her knees as she looked up at her with a small smile of her own. “I missed you too.”

For a moment, they just looked at each other—soaking in the warmth of being near one another again.

Paige’s voice softened as she looked down at Azzi. “It’s only been, what, a week and a half? Why it feel like a month?”

Azzi rested her hands lightly on Paige’s belt. “Because you’re dramatic,” she teased.

Paige let out a small laugh, shaking her head. “Maybe. Or maybe I just don’t like being away from you that long.”

Azzi’s fingers began tracing, idle circles against Paige’s hip bone. “You FaceTimed me every day.”

“Not the same,” Paige murmured, her voice dropping just a little. “I can’t touch you through a screen.”

Azzi tilted her head, their eyes locked. “So you missed touching me?”

Paige’s smirk returned, as she leaned down until their noses brushed. “I missed all of you. Definitely missed touching you though.”

Azzi’s eyes flicked to Paige’s lips. “Good. You can have me later… Maybe.”

Paige’s smirk lingered until Azzi’s fingers slid just beneath the edge of her belt, tugging her forward a half step. Paige’s eyebrows lifted in surprise, the motion shifting her balance enough that her hands instinctively settled on the armrests of Azzi’s chair.

“Oh?” Paige murmured, the corner of her mouth twitching up. “What’s that about?”

Azzi didn’t break eye contact as she shrugged. “Just wanted to make sure you’re really here.” Her thumbs grazed along Paige’s waistband and Paige could tell that answer was bullshit so her smile only grew.

“Whatever you say.”

Azzi hummed at that, breaking the moment as she pulled her hands back and picked up her fork again. “Good. Then feed me. I have a client soon.”

Paige shook her head with a huge grin on her face as she grabbed the food container. “My girl’s bossy when she’s hungry, huh?”

Azzi looked up at her, shaking her head no. “Only when I’m in love.”

That made Paige's gaze soften. “I love you too beautiful.”

Something soft passed between them for a second. Before Paige grinned looking away and picking up the fork and scooping up another bite of salmon to hold it out to Azzi.

Azzi leaned forward to take it, still smiling as she chewed. “This is actually really good,” she mumbled through the bite.

“Would be better if you ate it without tryna feed me every other bite,” Paige grumbled, swatting lightly at Azzi’s hand as she tried to raise another forkful to her lips.

Azzi ignored her protest and held the food closer. “Open.”

“Azzi—”

“Paige.”

Paige huffed, laughing, before reluctantly leaning forward and accepting the bite. “This is textbook manipulation.”

“This is me making sure my girlfriend, who’s an athlete and doesn’t eat enough, eats more.” Azzi corrected.

They fell into a rhythm, talking about random things—practice, Lukas, a funny video that Paige’s mom sent them the night before. Paige fed Azzi slowly, and in between, Azzi snuck bites into Paige’s mouth every time she looked distracted or paused too long mid-story.

As Paige was reaching for the napkins, the office phone rang—its sharp tone cutting through the warm moment between them.

Azzi sighed through a soft laugh, grabbing the receiver as she mouthed behave before answering.

“This is Dr.Fudd,” she said, voice switching into her professional tone effortlessly, though there was still a trace of amusement tucked into the edges of her words.

On the other end of the line, Kelly’s voice came through the receiver. “Hey, just a heads up—your next appointment’s already here. Ten minutes.”

Azzi thanked her before hanging up, exhaling softly as she glanced at the clock.

Paige stood from the desk with a stretch, her tank top shifting up slightly to reveal her stomach muscles, Azzi’s eyes flicking down briefly. She reached for Azzi’s hand, gently pulling her up from the seat. “I’ll see you later?”

Azzi hummed, already stepping in to kiss her. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that said she didn’t really want Paige to go. When she pulled back, her voice was softer. “What’re you doing for the rest of the day?”

Paige let her thumb graze over Azzi’s waist as they started walking toward the front of the office. “Bout to just chill with Lukas until later. He said something about wanting to switch his dirt bike engine since he’s ‘big’ now.”

Azzi smiled at that, nodding as they walked in sync down the hallway, their shoulders bumping once.

When they reached the door, Paige tugged Azzi into one more hug, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I love you,” she murmured.

Azzi smiled, nose brushing Paige’s as she whispered back, “I love you too.”

Then they stepped into the receptionist area where Kelly was typing quietly. Paige pulled Azzi into one last hug, more casual this time, but still lingering. “Put those flowers in water,” she said.

Azzi laughed softly. “I will.”

They exchanged one final glance, Paige winking at Azzi—before parting ways. As Paige walked toward the elevator, Azzi turned back toward the front, smoothing her skirt and offering a warm smile.

She motioned toward the client waiting in the seating area. “You can come on back.”

…

Later that night, Sam pulled up to the front of Paige's house, the blacked-out luxury vehicle idling quietly in Paige’s driveway. From the backseat, Azzi pulled out her phone and sent Paige a quick text.

Within a minute, the front door opened and closed. Azzi looked up to see Paige walking out—her diamond studs catching the faint porch light, silver chain resting against the loose white button up she wore. She moved with her usual calm confidence.

When Paige slid into the car, the scent of her cologne drifted in with her. She greeted Sam with a nod. “Preciate you, man.”

“Anytime,” Sam said before reaching forward to press the button that sent the partition up, giving them privacy.

As soon as they were alone, Paige turned toward Azzi, grinning. “You look good.” Eyes sweeping slowly down Azzi’s frame and back up with no rush.

Azzi leaned back into her seat, crossing one leg over the other, her skirt hugging her curves in a way that didn’t go unnoticed. “You saw me earlier today,” she pointed out.

Paige shrugged, her grin growing. “All of a sudden it looks better when I know I can take it off you soon.”

Azzi let out a laugh, rolling her eyes playfully. “You really know how to flatter a woman.”

Paige tilted her head. “You can take mine off if it makes you feel better.”

Azzi gave her a slow once-over, eyes dragging down Paige’s relaxed, tailored fit. She lingered for a beat, then looked back up at Paige with a smile. “Might take you up on that.”

“Yeah?”

Azzi didn’t answer—just smiled at her like she already had plans.

Paige played into the moment, a smirk creeping in as she licked her lips and leaned into Azzi. “Say the word and I’ll cancel the wine tasting right now.”

Azzi let out a soft scoff, immediately lifting her hand and pressing two fingers to Paige’s forehead, gently pushing her back. “Relax, Mr. Steal-Your-Girl,” she said, laughing.

Paige laughed too, leaning back with her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just sayin.”

Azzi shook her head with a grin, both of them settling back into their seats.

…

The tasting room was warmly lit, making the atmosphere more intimate for each table. Paige and Azzi sat at a table near the back like always, legs pressed together beneath the tablecloth. Paige’s arm was casually draped along the back of Azzi’s chair, fingers occasionally brushing her shoulder or her neck in a way that felt possessive and protective at once.

They were in the middle of a conversation. Azzi tilted her head, swirling the wine in her glass as looked at Paige with amusement. “You literally said, ‘This wine stuff’s kinda boring unless you’re cute.’”

Paige shook her head, trying to fight the smile tugging at her lips. “That’s not what I said. Don’t put words in my mouth.”

Azzi leaned into her slightly, close enough that Paige could smell her perfume. “I’m not, I’m quoting you. Word for word. Then you looked at me and winked.”

Paige laughed, taking a sip of her wine before mumbling, “That doesn’t sound like me.”

Azzi gave her a look, smirking. “You winked, Paige. There was literally a witness.”

“Okay fine, maybe I winked. But I didn’t say the wine part was boring.”

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “You absolutely said it was boring.”

Paige turned in her seat slightly, angling toward her more. “Alright alright, maybe I did say it. But only ‘cause you looked too good for me to pretend like I care about what a wine’s body means. Specially when yours was right there.”

Azzi blinked once before laughing, trying to hide her smile behind the rim of her glass. “That’s your excuse?”

“Mmhmm.” Paige let her hand slip down just slightly behind Azzi’s chair so her fingers brushed the small of her back. “You got me out here talkin’ reckless over pinot noir. You should be proud.”

Azzi tried to play it cool, but her eyes darted down to Paige’s mouth for a second too long. She turned her head, pretending to refocus on the tasting menu in front of them. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you already undressed me in your head twice.”

Paige grinned, the corner of her mouth twitching as she leaned back a bit, moving to drape her arm over the back of Azzi’s chair again. “Twice?” she echoed. “That’s definitely lowballin’ it.”

Azzi let out a soft laugh, shaking her head as she swirled her wine. “You’re so unserious.”

“But you like that about me,” Paige said, her voice quieter now. Her fingers brushed against the side of Azzi’s neck under the guise of adjusting her arm. “Don’t lie.”

Azzi tilted her head slightly in challenge, but there was a smile tugging at her lips she couldn’t hide. “I tolerate it.”

“Tolerate it so much you let me take you out.”

Azzi raised her glass. “I came for the wine, actually.”

Paige leaned in again, close enough that Azzi stilled for a moment. “You always stay for me though.”

Azzi didn’t respond right away. She took a sip instead, eyes locked on Paige’s over the rim of her glass. Then, slowly, she set it down and whispered, “Don’t get cocky.”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true.”

Azzi bit back a smile, nudging Paige’s thigh gently with hers. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’m not responsible for what happens later.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, lips parting like she was about to say something bold—but then she caught herself, laughing under her breath. “You tryna out-flirt me right now?”

Azzi rested her chin on her hand, looking at her with a calm sort of confidence. “Who said I’m trying?”

Paige leaned back a little, smirking. “This isn’t you trying?”

Azzi batted her lashes once at Paige. “Not at all, baby.”

Then casually Azzi rested her hand on Paige’s thigh. Not just her knee or above it, but higher, her fingers grazing the fabric just where Paige’s quad curved. Her thumb moved slightly, brushing in a small, slow arc like she wasn’t even thinking about it.

Paige looked down at the touch, then back up at Azzi with a sucked-in cheek and a bite of her lip, like she was weighing whether to say something slick—or just kiss her.

Before she could do either, the server approached with a fresh flight of wines. He placed the glasses down carefully, giving his well-rehearsed spiel: “This round is a Syrah—fruit-forward with a little spice on the finish.”

Azzi retracted her hand smoothly, fingers grazing Paige’s thigh on the way down as she picked up a new glass. Her expression never faltered, like her hand hadn’t just been inches from making Paige forget what planet she was on.

Paige cleared her throat and took the glass in front of her, eyeing Azzi sideways. “Spice on the finish, huh?”

Azzi glanced at her over the rim of her glass. “Sounds familiar.”

Paige choked on a laugh, covering her mouth just as the server walked away. “You really wanna do this here?”

Azzi gave her a beautiful smile and shrugged, sipping the wine like nothing was phasing her. “What? I’m just appreciating the wine love.”

Paige narrowed her eyes and leaned in, her lips brushing the shell of Azzi’s ear as she dropped her voice. “Keep playing, and imma forget we’re in a public setting.”

Azzi took another slow sip, but her cheeks warmed. “That's your problem, P, not mine.”

Paige just chuckled again, the kind knowing laugh that lingered as she sat back and finally brought her glass to her lips. Shaking her head because Azzi didn’t know what she was getting into.

From there, the mood shifted, the space between them had shrunk. The wine loosened them up and somehow wound them up at the same time, like every glance and touch lingered a second too long.

Paige’s arm rested more firmly behind Azzi now, her fingers messing with the back of Azzi’s neck every time she leaned in. Their legs were fully pressed together beneath the table, and neither of them moved to fix it.

Azzi took another sip of her wine, and when she set the glass down, Paige leaned in, her lips brushing beside her ear.

“You know I been thinking about you all day,” Paige murmured, her voice low and steady. “It;s your fault though. That skirt you got on... you really gon’ wear that around me and expect me to not say something?”

Azzi smiled, cheeks flushing, but she didn’t move away. “You like it?” she asked, a little smug.

“Liked it so much I almost stopped by your office again just to see it one more time.”

Azzi turned slightly to look at her, lashes low as she whispered, “Almost?”

Paige’s fingers traced up Azzi’s thigh. “Had to save some self-control for tonight.”

Azzi bit her lip, playing along, leaning in like she was going to say something—but instead she tilted her head slightly, giving Paige even more access to her ear. “Mmm.”

Paige leaned in closer. “I keep picturing you in that skirt on my lap… whispering in my ear...”

“You’re really trying to start something in a wine bar?”

Paige smirked, her lips brushing Azzi’s ear now. “Start? Baby, I’m already halfway through the scene in my head.”

Azzi giggled, eyes glinting with interest as she turned toward her, noses nearly touching. “Oh yeah?” she murmured.

Paige tilted forward like she was about to kiss her—but Azzi leaned back, just enough to dodge it, her lips still curved.

“Not here baby,” she said softly.

Paige tilted her head slightly, her eyes dropping to Azzi’s lips and lingering there. “Why not?” she whispered, her voice a little more hoarse now, a little more affected. The wine running it’s course through both of them.

Azzi laughed under her breath, leaning back in her chair just enough to breathe. “I can see the headlines now. Dallas Wings star caught.’”

Paige licked her lips, not even trying to hide how she was looking at her. “Don’t nobody in here know who I am.”

Azzi raised her eyebrow as she finished the last bit of wine in one of her glasses. “You’re really underestimating your visibility, Miss Bueckers.”

Paige shrugged, her fingers now drawing circles on Azzi’s thigh. “Visibility’s overrated,” she muttered. “Nobody in here’s paying attention.”

Azzi shot her a pointed look. “They are. You just don’t care.”

Paige leaned in again, her breath hot on Azzi’s neck as she whispered, “I only care about you right now baby.”

Azzi’s cheeks flushed, but she didn’t let it show. Instead, she pressed the tip of her index finger to Paige’s chest, holding her back with a smirk. “You keep sweet-talking me and we’re going to finish the night early.”

Paige grinned, biting her bottom lip. “Say the word.”

Azzi let out a low laugh, shaking her head as she looked forward again, but her fingers slid across the seat beneath the table, finding Paige’s hand and lacing them together. She gave it a gentle squeeze.

“You’re insane,” she whispered, unable to hide the smile tugging at her lips.

“I know and you love that shit so let’s stop playing.” Paige said the words laced with an arrogance that made Azzi pause for a beat.

She turned to look at her, eyebrows raised in surprise—not because of the words themselves, but because of the shift in tone. Paige, who was usually teasing, soft, sweet… had said it with something different in her voice. A little rougher. A little bolder. A little more her.

The surprise flickered in Azzi’s eyes, but so did something else lower in her stomach.

“You’re feeling yourself tonight, huh?” she asked, trying to play it off but her eyes told the truth. She loved it.

Paige’s tongue swiped across her bottom lip, eyes locked on Azzi like she already knew exactly what was going through her mind. “Nah baby I’m just feeling you. I keep telling you that mama.”

Azzi laughed again, quieter this time, more breath than sound, like she was trying to keep herself composed.

Just then, their waiter approached with their final flight—four new wines lined up with elegant precision. He began explaining each one, describing notes of citrus and oak, subtle spices, a bold finish. But Paige barely heard a word.

She was staring at Azzi.

Her elbow rested casually on the back of Azzi’s chair, body angled toward her, and while the waiter’s voice filled the air, Paige’s gaze stayed fixed on the curve of Azzi’s lips, the way her fingers delicately spun the stem of her new glass, how her tongue peeked out just briefly to wet her bottom lip. Paige’s eyes dropped for a beat before lifting again, hunger flickering behind them.

Thoughts were clearly running wild behind her eyes.

Azzi could feel it—could feel her looking. She slowly glanced over, catching her in the act, and raised her eyebrows like really? while the poor waiter was still talking about “mouthfeel.”

Paige didn’t even flinch. She just smirked, leaned in a little, and whispered, “Swear I don’t care about what he’s describing, I’m just tryna remember what you taste like. Been too long.”

Azzi’s eyes widened for a split second before she snapped her head forward, covering her laugh behind a cough. She was blushing now, nose wrinkling with effort as she tried to keep it together.

“You are so inappropriate,” she whispered through her teeth.

“M’just being honest. Too drunk to care.”

Azzi smiled, shaking her head as she squeezed Paige’s thigh.

Paige looked up at the waiter briefly, offered a tight-lipped smile like she hadn’t just whispered something filthy a second ago, and nodded along to his last words.

The moment he walked away, Azzi turned to her with a sigh, trying to act annoyed but failing. “You can’t behave for one second, can you?”

Paige grinned, reaching under the table to trail her fingers up the inside of Azzi’s thigh. “Didn’t hear you ask me to.”

Azzi inhaled sharply, then clamped her legs together, placing a warning hand over Paige’s. “Okay. Finish your wine,” she said with a smile, “before I actually get up and make us leave early.”

Paige chuckled, lifting her glass. “You keep saying that like it’s a threat.”

Azzi’s eyes were still dancing, but Paige could see the shift—how that usual collected edge softened just a little. So she pushed Azzi’s thighs apart, trailing her hand higher. Azzi didn’t move Paige’s hand this time. In fact, she let it stay there, her thigh tense beneath Paige’s palm.

Paige leaned in again, voice low. “You’re shaking.”

Azzi didn’t deny it. Her gaze flicked to Paige’s lips, then up to her eyes, and for a brief second, she looked like she wanted to say something but all that came out was a breathy, “Maybe I’m just cold.”

Paige smirked, brushing her thumb higher against the inside of Azzi’s thigh. “I promise I can warm you up.”

Azzi bit her bottom lip, her breath catching. She turned slightly, shifting to face Paige more directly now, her shoulder pressed into Paige’s chest. “We’re in public baby,” she whispered, the words slipping out softer than she intended. As if the point she was making became less important every time Paige spoke.

Paige leaned her forehead against Azzi’s temple, her lips barely grazing her skin as she murmured, “I told you I don’t care. I only care about you right now.”

Azzi’s eyes fluttered shut for a second like she was giving in to the feeling—then she caught herself and pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

They stared at each other, the tension between them thick, almost heavy enough to pull them together.

Then, without another word, they both lifted their glasses.

They tipped them back in sync, draining the rest of their wine in silence—Azzi’s throat moving in slow swallows, Paige watching with an appreciative flicker in her gaze.

Paige set her glass down, reached for her wallet, and pulled out a few bills. She tossed them on the table—enough to cover the wine and leave a tip that was more than generous. Then she stood and extended her hand.

Azzi slipped her hand into Paige’s, letting herself be helped up, and with a small smile tugging at her lips, she stepped slightly ahead to lead the way out.

Paige followed, their fingers laced, her eyes shamelessly trailing the way Azzi’s skirt hugged her hips, the way her legs looked in her heels, the sway in her walk just enough to make Paige shake her head to herself. “Unreal,” she muttered under her breath, a small grin curling at the corners of her mouth.

Even distracted, Paige didn’t miss the door. As they reached the exit, she took two quick strides to slip around and pulled the restaurant door open.

Azzi glanced at her, eyes warm with a smile that said she noticed—and appreciated—every little thing Paige did. She stepped past her slowly, squeezing their interlaced hands.

They walked toward the car, the air cooler now, a soft breeze catching Azzi’s curls as they reached the vehicle waiting on the other side of the street. Once again without saying anything Paige moved ahead, opening the back door.

Azzi lets Paige help her in, her fingers lingering a second longer than necessary before she drops her hand. Paige closed the door gently behind her before making her way to the other side and sliding in next to her.

The low glow of the car’s interior lights flickered softly at the open door before fading out. Paige felt a subtle wave of relief wash over her when she looked up to see the partition still closed.

She doesn’t even let Azzi reach for her seatbelt. The moment she settles, Paige slides across the leather seat and pulls Azzi closer, one hand on her waist, the other finding the curve of her thigh. There's barely an inch between them now—heat passing back and forth, both of their hearts out of rhythm.

“You look too fucking good, baby,” Paige murmurs, her lips grazing Azzi’s jaw as she speaks.

The way she says it—not just the words, but the desperation in her tone—sends a jolt through Azzi. Her heart spikes, and warmth spreads like wildfire in her stomach. Without thinking, Azzi crosses her legs tightly, trying to settle the ache building in between them. Paige notices, her eyes dropping for the briefest moment.

Her jaw tenses.

She swallows hard.

Because as much as she loves Azzi—loves her deeply, in ways she’s never fully said out loud—none of her current thoughts are gentle. None of them are respectful.

Her hand tightens at Azzi’s waist, but she doesn’t move closer. She just looks at her, blue eyes dark and swirling with everything she wants to do but isn’t sure she should because they’re still not at home.

Azzi noticed the shift in Paige—the way her breath hitched, the sudden tension in her shoulders. But she didn’t back away. Instead, she leaned in and reached up to Paige’s chest. Her fingers found the silver chain resting against her shirt and began to play with it, twisting it gently between her fingers.

Paige couldn’t take her eyes off her.

Azzi’s gaze stayed on hers—like she already knew exactly what Paige was thinking. Like she was openly inviting it but was waiting for Paige to say something.

The silence in the backseat was heavy. Not a word between them, but everything was loud—the way Paige’s heart pounded against her ribs, the way Azzi’s breathing was shallow, the way heat pooled in both of their stomachs. Paige felt like her whole body was on fire, her restraint slipping fast, her thoughts dangerously unchecked.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to fuck you this bad, baby,” Paige whispered, her voice rough and broken at the edges.

Azzi didn’t respond. She just smirked, eyes still locked on Paige’s, and gave the chain a gentle tug—pulling her in, closing that last inch of space.

Their lips met like it was inevitable—slow and heated as their tongues traced one another’s mouths. Paige let out a low, involuntary sound from the back of her throat, something caught between a sigh and a moan, her hand sliding up to cup Azzi’s jaw. Her fingers curled beneath her ear, holding her in place like she couldn't bear the thought of any distance between them.

Azzi’s grip on Paige’s chain tightened, knuckles tight as she tugged her closer, their mouths moving together like they’d been waiting for this moment to explode between them. And it did—every brush of their tongues, every pull, was laced with desperation.

Paige tilted her head slightly and bit down on Azzi’s bottom lip—just enough to make her gasp, her breath catching in her throat before melting into a quiet moan that slipped out without permission.

Paige trailed her lips down the side of Azzi’s jaw, hot breath fanning against her skin. Her mouth found the space just below her ear, her tongue flicking and dragging, followed by soft bites that made Azzi’s fingers twitch against her chain. She pressed her lips to every exposed inch she could find, lapping sloppily at her neck before nipping just above her collarbone.

Azzi let her head tilt back, eyes fluttering shut, her chest rising and falling in tandem with Paige’s movements. Her hand was now holding Paige’s head like she wasn’t sure whether to pull her closer or stop her before she lost all composure in the backseat of a moving car.

“P…” Azzi whispered, like maybe she was trying to be the voice of reason—but even her breathy voice didn’t sound convinced. Her body arched toward Paige’s touch, and her fingers pushed into Paige’s hair that was pulled into a bun.

Paige didn’t stop. She just hummed against Azzi’s skin like she was somewhere else entirely, drunk on the taste of her neck, the feel of her, the heat radiating off her body in waves. Her kisses slowed, then paused, lips grazing the curve of Azzi’s neck one last time before she pulled back just enough to look at her.

Azzi’s breath got stuck at the sight.

Paige looked disheveled in the most gorgeous way. Her lips were slightly swollen, a soft blush painting her cheeks, and her blue eyes were dark and glassy—dilated. A strand of her hair had come loose from her bund and fallen across her forehead, messy and untamed in a way that made Azzi’s core pulse.

“Wassup?” Paige asked, she was trying to play it cool, but the desire behind her eyes gave her away.

Azzi opened her mouth, ready to say something, anything—but the words didn’t come. She blinked slowly, lips parting then closing again, her brain blank as she looked at Paige. She didn’t remember why she’d said her name. Didn’t remember why she was supposed to stop this.

All she could focus on was the way Paige was looking at her. The way the alcohol combined with not seeing Paige, being touched by Paige for so long made every inch of her body crave the athlete.

All she could feel was the ache between her legs and the way her heart was pounding. “I…” Azzi started, but then just shook her head with a breathless laugh. “I don’t know. Never mind.”

Paige grinned, leaning in again, close enough to brush the tip of her nose against Azzi’s. “That’s what I thought.”

Azzi didn’t say another word; she just tugged Paige forward by the front of her shirt, crashing their mouths together in a kiss that was messier than the first. This one was different—urgent and impatient, like they were trying to make up for every second they’d spent apart over the last week and a half.

Paige groaned into it, her hands gripping Azzi’s waist. Azzi leaned back against the seat, and Paige followed, not caring about the angle.

Azzi’s hands moved without thought, reaching up to undo the bun at the back of Paige’s head. The moment her fingers loosened the bun, Paige’s hair tumbled down around her face. Azzi let out a quiet sound of approval, threading her fingers through the blonde strands.

Still kissing her, Azzi’s hands found the top button of Paige’s shirt and made quick work of it, then the next, and the next. Paige’s breath caught when Azzi’s knuckles brushed against her skin, but she didn’t stop her.

By the time Azzi reached the last button, her fingers were already pushing the fabric off Paige’s shoulders, revealing the warm, flushed skin underneath. Paige shivered at the cold air, but didn’t flinch—just pressed herself closer, hands sliding up Azzi’s back as if to say keep going.

The second Paige’s shirt slipped off completely and pooled somewhere on the floor of the car, her black tank top clinging to the warm curves of her body, she guided Azzi lower against the seat—just enough so Paige could hover over her, lips latching onto the curve of her neck.

Azzi’s head fell back against the leather seat, breath catching as Paige’s mouth moved deliberately, sucking at the sensitive skin.

Her fingers, half-shaking, found the belt loop of Paige’s pants, and she began to undo the buckle, metal softly clinking in the backseat.

Paige’s hand slid up Azzi’s thigh, pushing at her skirt a little bit as she deepened the kiss against her neck, whispering something into her skin that made Azzi bite her lip and arch into Paige, her free hand tangling back in her loosened hair.

Azzi let out a soft sound as Paige sucked just beneath her jaw, the vibrations shooting straight through her. Her hand slipped under the hem of Paige’s tank top, fingertips grazing the warm ab muscles. Paige hummed at this, her hand gripping Azzi’s thigh tighter as she pushed her hips into Azzi.

There was a soft knock against the tinted window.

But neither of them heard it.

Azzi was opening her legs further for Paige now, eyes fluttering shut as she arched into her touch. Paige’s lips moved lower again, leaving another mark she didn’t even bother trying to hide. Her other hand slid in between Azzi’s legs, pushing her skirt up further in an attempt to gain better access.

Knock. Knock. Louder this time.

The sound sliced through the fog surrounding them. They slowly pulled away from one another, eyes dazed, breathing uneven. Paige’s pupils were completely blown, lips swollen from kissing, jaw tight as she looked down at Azzi. Her black tank top was pushed up her chest and her belt hung open at her hips. Azzi’s hair was tousled, her bottom lip glistening where Paige had bitten it, her expression caught between frustration and breathless disbelief.

Neither one of them spoke for a moment.

Then Paige whispered. “We’re at your place.”

Azzi barely nodded.

The second knock on the window still echoed in the back of their minds as they stepped out of the car, not even pretending to pull themselves together, Paige only pulling Azzi’s skirt down before they stepped out. The cool air hit them, but it didn’t help—didn’t cool the heat between them. Paige helped Azzi out first, hand slipping a little too low on her back, and Azzi leaned into her, lips grazing Paige’s neck as she murmured a breathy, distracted, “Thank you, Sam,” to the driver standing outside the vehicle.

Sam gave a polite nod and immediately turned away, pretending not to notice anything.

Paige didn’t even glance at him—her hand was already tangled in Azzi’s, the other wrapped tightly around her waist, pulling her close as Azzi nipped at her jaw as they stumbled toward the front door, completely lost in each other.

Paige wrapped herself around Azzi from behind when they reached the door, her arms slipping around her waist, lips finding the slope of her neck. She kissed and nipped at her skin between hushed, breathy whispers that made Azzi’s fingers tremble as she tried to find the key.

“Can't believe I let you wear this out the house…” Paige whispered against her ear.

Azzi shivered, laughing softly under her breath as she fumbled with the lock. “You didn't say anything on the phone this morning when I was getting dressed,” she said, breath hitching as Paige’s teeth grazed her pulse point.

“That was me trying to behave.”

“Not doing a great job now,” Azzi mumbled, finally getting the key in after the third try.

The door clicked open and they practically stumbled inside, still tangled up in each other, neither willing to break contact. Azzi pushed the door shut behind them, but Paige had already spun her around, backing her up against it as their lips met again.

Paige’s hand blindly reached behind her to twist the lock with a soft click, not pulling her eyes from Azzi. The second it was secure, her fingers slid to the buttons of Azzi’s shirt, moving with ease. One after another, they came undone under her touch, and Paige pushed the low V-neck button up off Azzi’s shoulders, letting it fall to the floor.

She started to lean in again—ready to attach her lips to the exposed chest—but paused mid-motion when her eyes dropped.

Red lace.

Paige blinked once, twice, her breath catching as her gaze lingered on the delicate fabric clinging to Azzi’s chest, the bold color looking criminal on her tan skin.

“Jesus christ,” Paige muttered, her brain short-circuiting for a full second. She let her eyes drag back up to Azzi’s face, jaw tight, eyes somehow appearing darker than before. “You wore this on purpose.”

Azzi tilted her head with a slow smirk, saying nothing—but the glint in her eyes said everything. She didn’t even try to speak—just pulled Paige into another desperate kiss, their mouths sliding together. Paige’s hands were everywhere—gripping Azzi’s waist, sliding down her back, tugging her closer as they moved with no coordination toward the stairs, each of them kicking off their shoes. Every step was clumsy, rushed, their breaths ragged and uneven.

“Fuck,” Paige groaned against Azzi’s lips, her voice wrecked. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me…”

Azzi’s knees nearly buckled at the sound of Paige’s voice. Digging her fingers into Paige’s arms to stay stable as Paige’s teeth grazed her neck. “I do. I was hoping you’d see it,” she whispered, just before Paige captured her lips again.

They made it halfway up the stairs before Azzi had to press a hand to the wall to steady herself, laughing breathlessly between kisses. “We’re not gonna make it to my room at this rate.”

Paige shook her head, her lips dragging down Azzi’s throat. “Then move faster, baby. I need you.”

The desperation in her voice lit a fire under Azzi, making her pick up the pace down the hallway, passing the guest rooms until she reached her own at the end. Her hands trembled as she reached for the door handle, Paige still pressed against her back, lips hot against her neck as her hands slid up beneath her skirt.

The second the door clicked open, they stumbled inside. Paige kicked it shut behind them, already tugging at Azzi’s skirt, fingers finding the zipper and dragging it down with deliberate care.

When it slipped off Azzi’s hips, Paige once again froze—her breath catching in her throat.

Because if the red lace bra had stunned her before, what it was matched to made her mind go completely blank. Matching red lace, delicate and sheer, hugged Azzi’s hips—attached with a small, garter belt clipped high up her thigh so Paige couldn’t feel it earlier. It made Paige forget where they were, who she was, and how to speak entirely.

“Holy… shit,” she breathed, eyes locked on Azzi like she was something out of a dream she’d been afraid to ask for.

Azzi smirked despite how hard her chest was rising and falling. “You going to just stare, P…or do something about it?”

Paige’s gaze flicked up to meet hers, but she still didn’t move. It was like she physically couldn’t. Her eyes were devouring Azzi—tracing every single inch. The way her dark, hazy brown eyes burned. The fullness of her lips. Her curly hair messily flipped to one side. The curve of her chest. Her body, perfectly hugged by the lace that left very little to the imagination. Paige’s mouth parted slightly, like she wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Just air. Just awe.

Azzi tilted her head, watching her watch her. She let Paige soak it all in, just for a second longer—relishing the way her presence alone had Paige stuck. Then slowly, she stepped forward and reached out, fingers slipping into the front of Paige’s waistband as she tugged her gently toward the bed.

Paige followed, almost dazed, her movements slow, breath shallow. When they reached the edge of the mattress, Azzi flipped their positions with ease—guiding Paige backwards before giving her a light push that had her sitting down, legs spreading slightly on instinct as Azzi climbed on top of her.

Paige’s hands instantly found her thighs, gripping them as her eyes flicked up. “You tryna kill me tonight or some?” she murmured.

Azzi leaned in, lips just brushing Paige’s ear. “Not kill you,” she whispered. “Just work you up a little.”

Paige swallowed hard, the sound audible in the quiet room, her throat bobbing as she looked up at Azzi. Her hands moved up to grip Azzi’s hips tighter. “Fuck, baby you’re so–shit I don’t even know” she whispered, voice unstable.

Azzi smiled down at her, leaning in closer. “Shh,” she breathed, lips ghosting over the shell of Paige’s ear. “Just sit there and be quiet, P.”

Before Paige could even think of replying, Azzi’s mouth was on her neck—soft, then biting, then soft again—her tongue trailing across every inch of skin she could reach. Paige’s head tilted back with a low gasp, her fingers flexing against Azzi’s sides as her body reacted to each kiss.

Azzi’s hands moved with slow, confident purpose, slipping down to the hem of Paige’s black tank. Her fingers slid beneath it, pushing the fabric up until the tight muscle of Paige’s abdomen was exposed. Paige’s breath hitched, her stomach tightening under Azzi’s touch as her whole body seemed to vibrate under her.

Azzi pulled back just enough to look down at her, breath fanning across Paige’s skin. “You’re so fucking sexy,” she whispered, fingers tracing the subtle dip between Paige’s ribs.

Paige let out a breathy groan when Azzi suddenly bit down on the curve of her neck, a little harsher this time, like she was claiming her. Paige’s hips lifted instinctively, her body aching for more. She tried to use that leverage to flip them, her hands pressing to Azzi’s waist.

But Azzi caught them. She grabbed both of Paige’s wrists and laced their fingers together, pushing them gently but firmly above Paige’s head, pinning them to the mattress as her thighs tightened around Paige’s hips.

Paige’s breath caught, her eyes burning into Azzi’s. “Why you tryna tease me? You know how much I want you.”

Azzi leaned in close, her nose brushing Paige’s. “I’m trying to help but I need you to stay still for me, baby.”

Paige nodded, breath shaky. But Azzi still didn’t let go of her wrists—one hand stayed firmly above Paige’s head, anchoring her in place.

Then Azzi started moving again.

Her lips trailed down Paige’s neck, teeth grazing just enough to make Paige gasp. She left a mark just below her collarbone, then another right along the neckline of the bunched up tank top.

“God, I love those,” Paige murmured, her voice a whisper of need. Her head tilted back slightly, eyes fluttering every time she felt Azzi suck at her skin.

Azzi didn’t answer. Her mouth continued its descent, soft kisses and sharp nips scattered down Paige’s torso. Paige’s abs tensed beneath her each time, breath catching when Azzi licked a slow stripe right under her ribs.

Azzi finally reached Paige’s waistband, her free hand playing lightly with the open belt and fabric of her pants. But instead of moving further, her dark eyes flicked up. Paige was already watching her, mouth parted, chest rising and falling like she’d run a mile.

Azzi smirked then leaned forward and licked a slow path back up Paige’s stomach, her tongue warm and wet, never breaking eye contact.

Paige’s eyes fluttered, struggling to hold the gaze, completely unraveled by the sight of Azzi crawling up her like that.

“F—fuck,” Paige mumbled, the word barely formed. “What the hell you doing to me, baby?”

Azzi just hummed at the sound of her voice, the vibrations low in her throat as she shifted slightly helping Paige pull her tank top and sports bra over her head, discarding them somewhere off the side of the bed.

The sight of Paige—bare skin flushed, taut muscles flexing slightly with every shaky breath, her chest rising and falling like she was barely holding it together—lit something deeper in Azzi. Her mouth parted slightly as her gaze traced over every inch of her.

Then Azzi was back on her—her fingers working quickly at the button of Paige’s jeans, dragging them open and tugging them down her legs to reveal the boxers underneath.

Azzi bit her bottom lip as she took Paige in. “You’re unreal,” she whispered, almost like she was saying it to herself as she traced the hem of the boxers.

Paige’s hips lifted slightly in response, silently asking for more, but her eyes didn’t leave Azzi’s body. “You—fuck, Azzi. You’re so perfect,” she murmured, gaze still caught on the red lace hugging Azzi’s frame like it was made just for her. “Look so good with your lace on baby.”

Azzi chuckled. “Yeah?” she teased, brushing her fingers along Paige’s side as she moved back up her torso. “Then maybe I’ll keep it on a little longer for you.”

Azzi leaned back down, capturing her mouth in another kiss. Azzi pushed herself into Paige’s stomach as they kissed, her body rolling into the contact, needing it just as much.

When Paige felt it—felt just how much Azzi wanted her, how wet Azzi was for her—she gasped against her lips and whispered, “Jesus Christ, baby. I haven’t even touched you.”

Paige’s head tipped back for just a second, her eyes fluttering shut as she tried to get her breath under control. But Azzi didn’t let up—not with her lips, not with her hands, not with the way her body moved just enough against Paige’s abs to drive her crazy and relieve some of the pressure in her own stomach.

“Azzi…” Paige whispered, her voice fraying at the edges. She moved her hands from above her head, placing them on Azzi’s hips and guiding her into a slow, grinding rhythm—helping her push harder, like she was trying to take control of the moment as Azzi’s wetness started to spread across her stomach.

Azzi let her have it for a beat or two, her lips curving into a smile as she watched Paige’s brows furrow, her jaw tighten, her chest rising fast beneath her. She liked the way Paige moved—needy, focused, just on the edge of losing it.

But then Paige tried to sit up again when Azzi let a moan slip out, once again trying to flip their position.

Azzi pressed both hands to Paige’s shoulders and shoved her right back down against the mattress. “I thought I told you to stop moving. Are you that desperate for me baby?”

Paige didn’t even bother to deny it. Her fingers dug deeper into Azzi’s waist, pulling her down harder against her as she whispered, “Of course I am. I can’t help it—you feel too good.”

Azzi’s lips twitched in a slow smirk. “I know I do,” and just like that, she rolled her hips down harder, biting at her lip, drawing a deep, broken sound from Paige’s throat.

Azzi leaned in, lips brushing the corner of Paige’s mouth. “Now be good, and let me take care of you.”

Paige nods as Azzi slowly starts kissing down her body again.

Azzi’s fingers grabbed the material of Paige’s boxers only tugging slightly before pressing her mouth to Paige's clothed center, feeling how wet Paige was through it.

Azzi let out a hum at this, kissing Paige’s center one more time before kissing back up to Paige's stomach.

Paige tenses her jaw at the teasing as she squirms a little before saying, "I swear Imma fuck you through this mattress when you’re done."

Azzi chuckles at this, clearly not taking Paige seriously as she moves back down attaching her lips to Paige’s thigh. She leaves a few soft kisses before sucking dark marks on the pale skin. Looking up at Paige to see her head tipped back and her lip between her teeth.

"Baby let me hear you." Azzi whispers, completely still until Paige follows directions.

Paige lets go of her lip mumbling out, “Shit m’sorry mama.”

At this apology Azzi finally moves to take off Paige’s boxers. Paige lifting her hips immediately to make the process easier as Azzi discards them without looking away from Paige, the sight causing her to nearly fall apart.

Paige was so soaked, the center of her body completely slick and pooling onto the sheets. The sight mixed with Paige laying completely bare in front of her, bright marks fanned all over the woman’s skin had Azzi’s mouth watering.

Azzi moved to adjust herself between Paige’s legs trailing her fingers in between Paige’s folds, slowly spreading her apart.

Paige's breath hitches when Azzi blows into her, the wetness mixed with the cool air causing her stomach to flutter. She pushes her hand into Azzi’s head. "Baby please-" she starts but she doesn’t get very far. The words falling off her lips when Azzi licks up her slit.

Azzi’s tongue begins to move slowly but expertly against Paige, causing quiet moans to slip past the blonde's lips.

Once Azzi finds a nice rhythm she takes Paige completely into her mouth, using her tongue to part Paige's folds and push into her with her tongue.

"Oh shit, baby." Paige whispers. Her legs already shaking slightly around Azzi’s head. "You feel so fucking good pretty."

Azzi digs her nails lightly into Paige’s skin, leaving marks on her thighs as Paige’s head falls back against the pillow mumbling something incoherent about not being able to last long.

This causes Azzi to look up, whispering “S’ok baby you’re doing so good for me I promise." Then she’s reattaching her lips to Paige’s center leaning her head on Paige’s thigh as she finds her rhythm again.

Paige is in complete awe as she looks down at Azzi for a few minutes, seeing her long curly hair, the red lingerie, the way Azzi is completely wrapped up in her. “You’re so beautiful Azzi baby. Swear you’re doing so good.”

A strangled moan falls from Paige’s mouth when Azzi pushes her tongue further into her, pushing at her walls in acknowledgement.

Azzi feels Paige’s legs begin to tighten and wanting to add to the sensation Azzi adjusts slightly before easing two of her fingers into Paige, working her fingers into her slowly as she continues to lick at her clit.

Paige’s hand pushes Azzi’s head down forcing her closer at the added feeling. "Shit Az…shit, I’m close baby."

Paige’s moans are music to Azzi’s ears as she pushes further into her girlfriend, Paige’s arousal making it effortless to work into her.

Azzi hums as she pulls her lips from Paige for a second mumbling, “I know love. Lemme have it baby,” before she attaches right back to Paige’s clit.

Paige nods at Azzi’s words, her legs starting to tremble. It only takes Azzi curling her fingers a few more times before Paige is gasping, her back arching up from the mattress. "Oh shit—baby I…shit m'cumming baby-” a loud moan and a slew of Azzi’s name rolling off her tongue cuts Paige off before she can finish her sentence.

Her hands tighten in Azzi’s long hair, tugging and pushing as she grinds against her to ride out her orgasm. Before she pushes Azzi's mouth away from her sensitive clit.

As Azzi slides her fingers out of Paige she’s still attempting to gather herself, her chest rising and following as she stares up at the ceiling.

Azzi climbs up her body, straddling her waist as Paige’s eyes find her. Paige’s eyes are completely glazed over and when Azzi sucks her own fingers into her mouth, eyes rolling back at the taste of her girlfriend Paige considers proposing right then and there. Willing to give up every cent to her name to have Azzi forever.

Paige exhales before she’s sitting up to roll them over, hovering over Azzi. "You're so perfect," she mumbles before connecting their lips, humming at the taste of herself on Azzi’s lips before she’s trailing her mouth down Azzi’s neck.

Azzi tugs at Paige’s hair, making her look up at her as she mumbles a little embarrassingly, “I can’t wait, baby,” her eyes flicking between Paige’s lips and eyes.

Paige’s mouth curls into a smirk. “You need it that bad?” she whispers, dragging her lips along Azzi’s jaw.

Azzi nods—her body already moving beneath Paige’s like she’s chasing contact. All that dominance she’d held moments ago flickering now, replaced with her desire to be

touched after so long.

Paige hums as she moves down Azzi’s body, eyes trailing to the dark spot on the red lace.

Under the guise of Azzi’s impatience but really just missing this herself Paige takes Azzi into her mouth for a moment, groaning at the taste despite the barrier between them causing Azzi to let out a small whimper at the vibration.

Paige begins to undo the lace pulling it down Azzi’s long legs. Once the lace is discarded Azzi doesn’t even have a moment before Paige is licking at her center completely losing herself in the taste of Azzi a little selfishly.

Azzi lets out a loud moan when Paige’s tongue pushes into her. “Oh fuck yes—Just like that baby, gimme more." She’s already pushing herself further into Paige’s mouth and the blonde easily takes the invitation, pulling Azzi forward as she lifts one of her calves over her shoulder.

"Swear I love how you taste baby." Paige whispers, her tongue tracing Azzi’s most sensitive spot, perfectly blue eyes locked on brown.

Azzi only hummed at Paige’s words using the leverage of her leg and her hands tangled in Paige’s hair to guide the blonde exactly where she wanted her. Somehow pushing Paige’s tongue deeper than it already was.

"You’re so so good love…but please I need more…please—need you to make me cum, baby." Azzi begged, thankful they were alone at her house instead of Paige’s.

Paige sat up, pulling herself from Azzi’s center peppering a few kisses as she did. Paige licked her lips clean as she reached over to Azzi’s bedside drawer grabbing the harness and strap. She gives Azzi a peck whispering, “You so impatient mama,” before sitting up so she can adjust the harness properly.

When she’s done she looks down at Azzi brushing her thumb gently across her bottom lip, wiping away the wetness left from their kiss. “You need my fingers first baby?” Paige already knows the answer. She can see it in the way Azzi’s hips are searching for any form of contact, the way her chest is still rapidly rising and falling despite Paige not touching her. Azzi’s past needing anything gentle. Still, Paige asks—because she always will.

Azzi shakes her head quickly, whispering out, “No baby.”

A pleased hum vibrates in Paige’s throat. She dips down, her lips ghosting along Azzi’s cheek giving her a gentle kiss before moving toward her ear. “I love you,” Paige whispers, before her tone dips slightly. “But I’m about to slut you out for talkin so much shit earlier, mama.”

For a moment, Azzi just blinks up at Paige, biting her lip, a little dazed at the thought, despite her usual preference for slower sex—then she nods.

Paige looks down, running the straps through Azzi’s folds a few times before she easies into her. She starts off slowly, giving Azzi time to adjust to the length with a few shallow thrusts. But then Azzi lets out a heavenly sound next to Paige’s ear, squeezing at her lower back.

The sensations go straight to Paige’s core and she speeds up her movements, looking down at the way Azzi is taking her in—completely in love with what she was seeing. She shook her head whispering, “Fuck you already taking it so well baby…can’t believe it.”

Azzi moaned out, “Feels so good that’s why,” pulling at Paige’s back in attempt to somehow bring her closer.

Realizing this Paige leaned in closer, sucking at Azzi’s neck as she moved her forearms to rest around Azzi’s head, caging her in.

Azzi whimpers at the closeness moving her arms to wrap around Paige’s neck.

Paige slows down her thrusts, rolling into Azzi harder at a deeper angle causing Azzi’s brown eyes to roll back. “Fuck baby you’re so deep…feels good.” Paige tightens her jaw as she feels the harness pushing into her already sensitive bud mumbling something before she’s pulling out of Azzi.

The brown-eyed girl protests this, her hips and hands chasing after Paige.

“Relax mama, I just gotta taste you again. Been too long, Imma get you right I promise.” Paige slides down Azzi’s body, hooking her legs with her arms holding her in place before she’s lapping at her again, finding a nice rhythm.

Paige hums into Azzi’s center as Azzi pushes her hips into Paige’s mouth. Matching each flick of Paige’s tongue with her own movements for a few minutes in complete bliss.

"Yes—yes just like that baby. I’m so close.”Azzi moaned, her legs starting to shake around Paige’s head.

Paige shook her head no mumbling, “Not yet sweetheart. Just started.” She held Azzi’s writhing hips down and pushed her tongue deeper causing Azzi to cry out. Paige’s name rolls off her tongue as her legs tighten around the blonde's head who continues to lap at Azzi like nothing is happening.

Then almost simultaneously another orgasm is rolling out of Azzi immediately and everything is too much. Her ears are ringing and her heartbeat is echoing through her entire body as she scrambles to push Paige’s head away.

Paige sits up, the entirety of her lower face wet as she grins at Azzi. She shifts up, her body hovering over Azzi's. Her lips brushed against Azzi's as she spoke, "You wanna taste, mama?"

Azzi nods before Paige can even finish speaking, her eyes glassy, lips parted in a silent plea. She looked completely fucked already-hair messy, chest rising and falling unevenly, a dazed look clouding her features that made Paige's stomach twist.

Paige cupped Azzi's jaw gently, her thumb brushing over her bottom lip before she pressed down slightly, coaxing her mouth open. "Open up for me, beautiful," she whispered. Azzi obeyed, her lips parting just as Paige leaned in closer. With her eyes locked on Azzi's, a trail of spit slipped from Paige's mouth and landed on Azzi's waiting tongue.

The second it hit, Azzi inhaled, her body arching into Paige’s as warmth rushed through her. Paige watched her reaction with hooded eyes, licking her lips as she whispered, "Good girl."

Paige shifted to the other side of the large mattress, her back pressing against the headboard as she sat up. She patted her thigh lightly, “C’mere.”

Azzi, still in that soft, hazy daze, moved without a word. Her body reacted before her brain could catch up, and she crawled over slowly, straddling Paige with an ease that made Paige's jaw tighten.

As Azzi settled into her lap, her arms looped around Paige’s shoulders and Paige let her hands glide over Azzi’s hips. Looking up at her like she was something unreal, something divine. Paige dragged her lips up Azzi’s jaw, whispering, “You look so fucked out already, and I haven’t even fucked you the way I want to yet.”

Azzi whimpered softly at that, burying her face in Paige’s neck for a moment as her fingers tightened slightly against her shoulders.

Paige just smirked, hands smoothing up Azzi’s back, feeling the warmth of her skin as she waited for Azzi to be ready.

Azzi lifts slightly, using Paige’s shoulders for support as she eases onto the strap, her eyes fluttering closed as she settles onto it. She spends a minute trying to set a rhythm, moving up and down as she's always done but her legs are already trembling every time she sinks back down on it and her movements are faltering.

Paige shakes her head whispering, "Know you can ride it better than that baby don’t play with me,” knowing it’ll spur Azzi on.

Right on cue Azzi tightens her jaw, pushing the sensitivity aside and her hips rise and fall at a quicker pace, her moans filling the room as she pushes her face into Paige’s neck, kissing and sucking at the pale skin.

"Mhmm. Shit baby—Yeah. Ride it just like that." Paige moans, her hands guiding Azzi’s hips.

Paige reaches behind Azzi, undoing the lace bra and throwing it to the side as she latches her mouth to Azzi’s chest. The combination of Paige’s mouth and the tip of the strap pushing into Azzi perfectly has her completely at a loss. No sounds falling out of her slack jaw.

Paige smirks up at her "You like that shit baby?"

Azzi nods frantically as she speeds up her movements. "Fuck yes baby. Love that. Love you.”

Paige begins to meet Azzi’s hips halfway, the entire length of the strap sliding in and out of her each time causing Azzi to let out a loud moan. "Shit oh my god—so…so—big baby, shit!" Azzi’s eyes rolled back at the feeling.

Each bounce and roll of Azzi’s hips pushed the harness into Paige. The blonde's hands tightening on Azzi’s ass as she struggles to find her own control. Her jaw tight as she watched Azzi bounce perfectly on top of her.

The band in Azzi’s stomach was unbearably tight and the burning feeling in her thighs was starting to be too much but she pushed through because of how much she could tell Paige was enjoying it.

Attempting to get Paige as close as she was, Azzi's hand moved to Paige’s neck squeezing it very slightly, nails digging into the skin as she pushed herself harder into Paige’s hips.

For a moment the only sounds in the room was their heavy breathing and the headboard hitting the wall as they worked into each other. Neither wanting to be the one who fell apart first.

"Shit baby—you’re doing so good for me. Just like that, need it just like that baby." Paige moaned out, squeezing at Azzi’s ass. She removes one of her hands, wetting it with her own spit before she’s rubbing at Azzi’s center, both of them keeping the frantic rhythm of their hips.

The sex they’re having is uncharacteristically loud. Both of them are complete messes as they attempt to get one another off.

“Yes right there—“ Azzi moans out as Paige pushes into her at a relentless pace, meeting Azzi every single time.

"Fuck, Azzi." Paige responds her legs starting to shake. "Shit—cum for me mama, l'm right there. Need you so bad baby."

Before either of them can say anything else they’re both seeing stars. The pressure too much to handle as they fall apart together, the orgasms rushing through them without their permission.

Azzi feels like she’s about to pass out and Paige is breathing heavily under her. Yet somehow Paige has the energy to pull out and put Azzi on her stomach, lifting the girl's hips into an arch exactly how she wants it.

Azzi hasn’t even come down from her last orgasm before Paige is pushing back into her. She can’t do anything but arch further into Paige, biting at her lip painfully hard as she grabs at the sheets for support.

Paige looks down at Azzi’s dripping center, thrusting in and out of her slowly, shaking her head in complete disbelief at the sight. She reaches forward wrapping Azzi’s curly hair into her hand gently before tugging it back to get a better view. Paige was completely drunk off of the sight of Azzi. The arch of her back, her fucked out expression on her face, her wetness dripping onto the sheets each time Paige pushed into her.

She smirks when she sees Azzi’s mouth open and close. Words completely lost on the girl. “Fucking you so good you can’t even talk to me huh baby.” Azzi nods and Paige somehow pushes deeper into her causing Azzi to let out a scream, tears building at the corners of her eyes.

“Feels so..so— fuck feels so good, baby." Azzi hiccups, her brain a complete mess.

Paige tugs Azzi back further, her back now pressed to Paige’s chest. She tilts Azzi’s jaw up towards the mirror on the ceiling that she’d gotten installed after an offhand comment Paige made. Paige whispers near her ear, “Open your eyes for me baby.”

Azzi’s eyes open slowly, her brown eyes hooded as she takes in the sight of the two of them. Paige wraps her hand around Azzi’s throat as she makes eye contact with Azzi in the mirror mumbling, “I’m so in love with you baby.”

Azzi nods, the rise and fall of her chest becoming erratic as she breathily says, “I—I love you too.”

“This my shit forever ok pretty?”

Azzi nods again.

Paige shakes her head, their eye contact in the mirror never breaking as Paige works into her faster. “You gotta say it for me. Use your words and tell me it’s mine forever baby.”

“I’m yours! Fuck it’s all yours baby—forever I promise,” Azzi cries out her body starting to tremble again.

“Finish for me then sweetheart. Wanna look at you while you cum for me.”

The words turn Azzi into mush as she screams Paige’s name as she finishes, a few tears falling down her cheeks. She collapses onto the bed, body still shaking as Paige follows her down to help ride it out.

But Azzi is so spent, so sensitive that she’s reaching back frantically, pushing Paige out of her. “Stop..stop baby. I can’t.” Paige immediately pulling out after hearing Azzi’s words.

Paige removes the harness, letting it fall to the side before she pulls Azzi into her arms carefully, guiding Azzi back against her chest. Azzi's body was still trembling, the aftershocks running through her.

Paige held her from behind as she pressed kisses to the bare skin of her back. The room quiet except for the sound of their breathing.

Every few seconds, Azzi’s legs trembled, and each time, Paige pulled her tighter. Her thumb brushing soothing circles over Azzi’s collarbone whispering I love you’s.

After a few minutes Paige glances down at Azzi—lips parted slightly, brows relaxed, completely lost to sleep. A small chuckle escaped Paige’s lips as she slowly untangled herself from Azzi and made her way to the bathroom. She grabbed a clean towel, soaked it with warm water, then wrung it out until it was just damp. Returning to the room, Paige kneels gently on the bed, taking her time as she wipes at Azzi’s thighs and legs knowing she’ll complain about sticky legs in the morning.

Once she finished, she padded back to the bathroom to rinse the towel and placed it on the sink to dry. On her way out, she spotted Azzi’s bonnet on the counter so she grabbed it before she walked back toward the bed. Taking a small moment to watch Azzi’s chest rise and fall in rhythm with her breathing—peacefully—safe. Paige swallows, pushing down the thought she’s having knowing it’s way too soon for that.

She climbs back into bed slowly, bonnet in hand, reaching to gently gather Azzi’s curls, doing her best not to wake her as she gathered them before settling the bonnet carefully on her head.

“Goodnight beautiful,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Azzi’s temple before pulling the covers over both of them and wrapping her arms around her again. Azzi’s body naturally rolling onto Paige’s chest.

…

In the middle of the night Paige stirred faintly at the feeling of something warm and soft against her neck. At first, her tired brain thought it might’ve been the brush of sheets or her own hair. But then there was a kiss. And another. Slower this time—bare lips trailing a line down her throat, pausing at her collarbone.

She blinked groggily, adjusting to the faint moonlight still lingering in the room. Azzi’s face was tucked close, her lips dragging gently across Paige’s skin, her breathing slightly uneven.

Paige squinted, voice hoarse with sleep. “Az?”

Azzi didn’t say anything at first, just pulled herself closer, her hand smoothing over Paige’s stomach. Her lips ghosted up to Paige’s jaw as she finally whispered, “I want more baby.”

There was a beat of silence as Paige processed the words. For a second, she just blinked at the ceiling, still half-caught between dreaming and being awake—until the words clicked into place and Azzi’s lips found her neck again, warmer now, a little needier.

A sleepy laugh formed low in Paige’s throat as her arm wrapped around Azzi’s waist. “You don’t even gotta ask,” she murmured, her lips brushing against the shell of Azzi’s ear. “Ever.”

She rolled over slowly, pressing Azzi into the mattress with a soft exhale, gazing down at her, sleepy hooded eyes full of want.

Inwardly, Paige grinned to herself, heart pounding a little faster—not just from the automatic desire she always felt for the woman under her, but from the way Azzi looked at her like she hadn’t been touched in weeks even though just a few hours ago tears were coming out of her eyes. I created a monster, Paige thought, chuckling at her own thoughts.

Azzi gave her a small grin, eyes flickering between Paige’s lips and her eyes. “You sure you’re not too tired?”

Paige leaned in, kissing her slowly. “For you?” she whispered against her mouth. “Never.”

And just like that, they lost themselves in each other all over again, letting the night bleed into morning—neither of them noticing when the moon disappeared and sunlight began to stretch across the room.

[jks1uv]

𝑙𝑒𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑖𝑛 ; jason todd

summary: a very fucking big small side effect of being baptized in the lazarus pit is retrograde amnesia. however, love is the dimension that transcends everything; even the loss of memories.

pairing: fiancée!reader x fiancé!jason todd.

trope: partial memory loss + both parties learning to falling in love with each other again + boy who thinks he’s unworthy of love x girl who loves him like it’s breathing + she fell first but he fell harder.

genre: fluff + angst + slow-burn & rekindling romance.

warnings‼️: crude language + mentions of his murder + mentions of violence + reader’s 24, jason’s 25 + jason’s a drug / crime lord + reader & jason are yearners.

word count: 9,624.

random disclaimerrr: it can take somewhere between days to years to recover from retrograde amnesia & gain your memories back. for fanfiction purposes, i’ve dramatized the recovery. italics = inner thoughts, bold italics = flashbacks. i love this song, i breathe this song. nobody fw this song like i do. canon states he was 15 when he died but i changed things up. i haven't read a single comic & all the lore ik is from google, tiktok & this app lol. pls lmk on how i can improve! happy reading! ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ ♡ © 2025 @jks1uv

Here you are; face to face with the man whose warmth you were sure could no longer feel in the dark of the cruel, lonely night. You were sure the thread of his love was no longer in the stitches of your heart.

The one man you’ve ever loved that much and hard, is limp and unconscious. It doesn’t need to be said how he’s also very much alive this time around.

He's weighing down on the shoulders of his beloved brother, in the way eldest sons gently cradle their brave-faced youngest brothers in times of need.

Dick looks at you and you see him. For the first time, you truly see who Richard Grayson-Wayne is.

The dutiful, eldest son, yes. But more than that, something he will always be no matter the consequence of life; a brother.

You recognize that bleeding, aching heart of his and understand that it was bleeding and aching with yours too.

He’s still a brother even if he lost his. That title doesn’t just go away, lost in the wind like the smell of freshly cut grass and 2015.

You step aside and Dick wordlessly carries his little brother into your house.

“I... we can't talk here.”

You can't stop staring at the larger body of muscle on your couch. You can't believe he's just lying there, on the couch.

Suddenly, you can't seem to remember the misery that left you incapacitated. You don't taste the grief in the salt of your tears on your tongue.

Those years seem so far away, it's disorienting.

“Y/n?”

You're broken out of your trance and you swiftly move your head towards the older brother.

He sympathizes with you. He takes you by the hand and leads you to your bed. You sit down and he follows suit right next to you.

It's silent for a few moments, he's trying to find the right words to explain what you see.

“We found him, Bruce and I.”

You look at him but he refuses to make eye contact. Instead, he finds feigns interest in the scratches on his knuckles.

“Have you heard of a the new drug and crime-lord in Gotham, recently?”

You nod. You'd about of him; the man in black who hides himself under a red hood. Ironically, that's also his name: the Red Hood.

“…He’s actually Jason.”

And with the way he says it so quietly, so softly; you'd almost think you imagined him saying those two words.

Almost.

But almost is never enough, especially not in this moment. You need more.

“What?” You whisper harshly.

He still refuses to look at you but you won't have that anymore.

“Dick, look at me.”

He reluctantly looks you in the eyes and you can tell he feels awful. He feels that way because this isn’t how life after Jason’s death was supposed to be.

He was indescribably euphoric as any loved one would be, but it all came crashing down just as fast and fleeting the feeling was.

He didn’t want it to be this way but alas, when life gives you lemons.

“I’m really sorry, Y/n.”

He can’t imagine how life was like for you but he knows it wasn’t pleasant.

You look at him with gratitude and squeeze his hand in thanks. He squeezes it back and you lay your head on his shoulder as he explains everything.

Jason grumbles and groans half in pain. The other half in disorientation.

Even though your curtains are closed, they don't block the sunlight from coloring in your once-dark living room.

Dick’s lying on his stomach and snoring away.

Jason carefully gets up and sees the older man not so gracefully splayed out across his air mattress (yes, he's one of those people) on the floor.

Jason's gaze follows the confines of your living room. He scopes out the unfamiliar space and he soon finds himself in front of the fridge.

He's staring at the notes and magnets among other things you have hung up. However, his eyes stop in front of a collage of pictures.

You made a photo strip out of the pictures you took with him at this specific photo booth.

There were 5 photos that consist of the strip, each from 5 different dates.

Jason can't figure out why he feels a strange, magnetic pull towards this woman.

She shouldn't mean anything to him but that doesn't sound right.

It's like deep down, he knows- feels like there's something missing. It’s weird; feeling something’s wrong but not knowing what could possibly give that inclination.

He studies the woman that he's sure is the sun. Jason's sure this woman's smile and joy are willing and radiant. In fact, he's so sure this woman is the quintessence of all he's been missing.

A home.

Jason feels a pit of emptiness open up in his stomach that fills up with dread just as quickly.

Jason couldn't remember much of his life before the Lazarus pit breathed it back into his mangled body. His painful rage and sadness were the only evidence tying him to a life beyond revenge and strife.

When and Dick and Bruce realized who the red hood truly was, they did everything in their power to convince the broken boy to come back with them, even if it was just for a little while.

Back at the Wayne manor, he discovered a few memories of what he presumed was a better life, but he also found some things that he didn't think was possible for a man like him.

On his dresser he found what appeared to be a golden wedding band, a Revlon hairbrush, and a key with Buttercup from The PowerPuff Girls printed on it.

He asked Stephanie Brown if those items belong to her or Cassandra Cain but she dismissed the notion. She told him who those items really belonged to but he couldn’t believe it.

A woman he’s romantically involved with? His fiancé?

Yeah, right.

There wasn’t much evidence to make her claim viable, until he found a couple of words engraved inside what he found to be his golden band.

Always — Y/n

“Y/n.” He whispered your name like it was a secret only for him to know.

He stared at the band for a bit, not believing he found something so delicate and pure. A love so strong, it made him want to get married.

Stephanie got to know her older brother through the retelling of memories. Memories that people seemed so fond of. Through them, she learned what he liked, disliked. How Bruce was going to break his rule, bend his code of ethics for him.

Jason talked to her, cared for her. But he never really opened up about himself and what goes on in his head. At the very least, he was there for his little sister when times were tough and that was enough.

He was immortalized by his grave but seeing him in the flesh— at this moment, made her overwhelmingly emotional.

She hesitantly put a hand on his shoulder and he looked at her.

“It was your idea.”

“…Really?”

His heart warms with an unfamiliar fondness.

Jason never thought of himself to be a romantic but this revelation forces him to look at this ring and himself in a different light.

Now as he stands in front of your fridge, Jason thinks this must be you. The woman in these photos, the woman whose name is engraved on the inside of his wedding band, the woman of his dreams. It must be you.

Jason turns around to wake Dick up and tell him about his epiphanies but here he is. Face to face with you, instead.

Your lips part to sharply exhale and you're about to say something but your mind betrays your tongue. You don't want to say what you want him to hear because of the way he's looking at you.

His eyes are wide in surprise. It's her he thinks.

Jason slowly stalks his way towards you like you’re a doe he doesn't want to scare you away.

There's a tremble in your bones. The kind that vibrates with a desperation to pull him into you and never let go.

You want to hug him, kiss him and stare into his once-blue eyes until you count the different flecks of green in them.

But you can't. You can't touch him yet, you can't talk to him like he's your soon-to-be husband yet. You can't softly sing him to sleep when he needs it yet.

So, you’ll settle on yearning for him. You’ll brave a smile when you're wistful and you'll hold on to the hope of him coming back to you.

You're determined to make him remember you no matter how long it takes.

He's in front of you now, there's an almost dazed look on his face.

His eyes are a a grayish-teal, making you question how much of him has truly changed.

“Hello.” Your voice is a bit shaky and breathy.

Jason half-blinks and tilts his chin to the side a bit. “Hi.” He murmurs.

“Why are you two acting like side characters in a high school romance anime?”

His name ain’t ‘Dick’ for nothing!

You've spent the entire afternoon cleaning the guest bed and bath room to make space for Jason.

In the meantime, Jason is trying to figure out how not to make a fool of himself.

“I dunno… what if she's changed her mind?”

Jason’s getting cold feet but he'd never blame you if you did.

“Dude.” Tim sighs. “You were literally the loss of her life all this time.”

And he’s right, Jason knows that.

He’s just really anxious and his insecurities are bubbling up. It's inevitable when it comes to the matters of the heart.

You're not just any girl— you're his fiancé.

In his heart, you’re an integral part of him but in his mind; you’re a woman who deserves so much better.

You can't possibly want to grow old with him.

“It must mean something if she's spent years of her life tolerating you.”

Always count on Damien Wayne to say the thing(s) nobody else will.

Dick quirks up an eyebrow at his baby brother's opinion but when he looks at Jason, they both know he means well.

Stephanie and Cassandra offer him words of advice and encouragement. Though, he's not sure how helpful they'll be as they don't personally know you but apparently, ‘that's besides the point’.

“Just remember what we said and you’ll be fine!”

Duke hands Jason a small lotus plant as he ‘shouldn't show up empty-handed’ if he wants a chance at a great first— well, second impression.

Jason appreciates the gesture as the lotus sends a message of a new beginning, something he’s longing for.

He secures the plant, puts on his helmet and drives his motorcycle back to your house.

“Okay, you got this. Just be cool.”

He rings the bell and you swing open the door without even looking through the blinds. You just knew it'd be him.

You're a little breathless but you suppose he just does that to you.

The two of you lock eyes for a moment until he clears his throat awkwardly.

“This is for you.” Jason smiles politely and you swoon over the baby pink plant.

“Oh, wow.” You beam. “You really didn't have to.”

He disagrees. “I did.”

Your lips split open with a grin, touched by the gesture. “Thank you, Jason.”

He’s nonchalant when he nods, ignoring how nice it felt to see you smile because of him.

“Um,” You point at his shoes. “Could you place them on the rack next to you?”

“Oh! I-I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You say calmly.

You don’t want him to walk on eggshells around you so you won’t mind teaching him how to be familial.

He coughs, still slightly embarrassed at himself (and at how fast his nonchalant streak came to an end).

“This is your room, the bathroom is right over there and, uh, I moved your things in… I hope that's alright?”

You didn't want to overwhelm him but you also wanted him to know that he has a say in things, even though he’s living in a place that used to be a part of him.

He’s touched at your gesture but he feels… disappointed? He’s not quite sure where he wants to be but doesn’t know what the feeling of belonging is like, either.

It’s confusing, but he expresses his gratitude nonetheless.

“Yeah, that’s great. Thank you.”

You nod with pursed lips.

He looks around at the materialistic things that describe him. Posters, collectable figurines, books. He loved his books.

Jason runs his fingers along the spines of the books neatly organized on a shelf.

It's quiet, you almost leave as you deem it intimate; becoming familiar with yourself. Jason is making up for all the time he's lost, not just with you but a part of himself as well.

“I remember when I read Hamlet for the first time.” He says after a while.

You smile knowingly.

“Alfred and I would read and discuss Shakespeare together at our own little private book club.”

Jason picks the book up and randomly flips through the pages, he comes across written annotations on transparent sticky notes.

“What’s this?” He asks, curious.

“Oh,” you walk up to him and he gives the book to you. “These are my annotations from when I read it for the first time.”

You admire the book fondly.

“You’d told me all about the book club so I asked for book recommendations. That way you could talk about your favorite literature with me.”

You're still looking over your notes while Jason stares into your side profile.

He thinks it's endearing; that you care enough about him to indulge in conversation about his hobby.

You also intrigues him.

How could you just so casually think of something so kind and thoughtful? How could you want to spend your time reading and truly understanding every reference, point, plot and quote; just to understand a part of him?

Can someone really care about another person that much?

Jason doesn’t find his answers in his beloved books but something tells him he’ll find out soon enough, in you.

Jason is banned from going out on patrol for the time being.

He was actually supposed to quit altogether when he proposed to you but Joker just had to follow the instinct of his passion: inflicting misery.

Dick insisted that the rest of the members will take care of patrolling as all Jason should focus on is you.

Kinda hard to do that when you're so... well, you.

It’s been a couple of days and he still thinks you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen.

Your beauty shines through your smile and the way you care for him. He feels it under the long, jagged scar carved atop his chest.

He’s distracted when he's reading in the living room.

There you are; in a large t-shirt that drapes over your frame and the neckline is cut. It hangs over one side of your shoulder and the sight takes his breath away.

You're cooking something you know he likes, just because you know how much it comforts him. But he doesn’t realize this yet.

“Jason?”

He averts his gaze and pretends he wasn’t staring at you since you stepped foot into the kitchen, half an hour ago.

“Hm?” His voice cracks just a bit but he hope you don’t notice it.

You turn around at his hum and walk towards the couch.

“Dinner’ll be ready in a few minutes, would you like to watch something while we eat?”

You and Jason used to watch movies and shows all the time together, courtesy of one of your love languages being quality time.

He bookmarks his page and sets his book down.

“Actually, I wanted to talk.”

You blink and show you’re listening intently.

His fingers rake through his hair nervously. “I was wondering if we could talk about stuff that would help jog my memory.”

“Yeah, of course.” You nod and smile at him.

He smiles back, albeit small but he does.

“Okay.” He claps his hands together and goes to the kitchen to wash his hands.

As you set the table, Jason watches you carefully. He wanted to know everything. Every chore, every part of your routine, every detail. He wanted to help with dinner but was nervous to be near you.

What if he made you uncomfortable? He’d thought about it; his size, his demeanor, the fact that he’s not the man you’ve been around.

Everything’s changed since his… rebirth.

Life’s been hard and Jason doesn’t understand how to cope with the new set of incongruous events.

He sits across from you, a knee bouncing up and down under the table as you sit down.

You look at him expecting to start eating but find he’s not.

“Do you not like it?”

Along with his physique and mental health, you were afraid the liking to his most favorable things had changed, too.

He blinks in confusion. “Oh, no. Not at all.”

He quickly realizes how that sounds.

“Wait, that’s not—” His eyes are wide, head shaking a bit in refusal with his hands up. “I meant, no, as in… I haven’t tried it yet.”

You don’t want to laugh but you think it’s kind of funny watching him trip over his words.

The mannerism brings you back to a kinder time.

“Are you nervous?”

His smile is a bit lopsided when he picks up the fork.

“A little..?”

You can’t tell if it’s a question but you nod, trying to make him feel as welcome as possible.

“It’s alright.” You assure. “This is all very new for you so, please don’t feel as though you have to be polite to make me feel better.”

You offer him an encouraging smile before looking away, afraid you’ll burst into tears.

He stares at you for a moment, a bit stunned at your kind and refreshing candor.

Jason begins eating and has to hold himself back from emitting sounds of surprise and approval.

As he chews, he thinks about the flavor. He believes the taste of the spices blended with the taste to be familiar but is doubtful.

“Have I…”

You look up at the beginning of his line of questioning.

“I feel like I’ve had this before.”

You hum and nod in agreement. “You have.”

You think about quoting him back to himself, hoping that would be a good start.

“You used to say it was one of your-”

“Comfort foods.” He completes.

The relief that fills your being makes your heart speed up in excitement.

There’s a glint of excitement in your eyes. One that could easily be characterized as hope.

Jason feels it, too.

When he takes another bite and lets the flavors melt on his tongue, he lets himself feel the precise taste you so carefully measured with your mind.

Jason wanted to stop by the local farmer’s market so you decide to get some laundry done.

You’re folding your clothes and are deep in thought about him.

There’s potential, you think. A lot of potential to recover lost memories and make new ones along the way.

It’s the matter of whether or not he wants to do them with you that has you stuck.

The hopeful side of you believes he’s stayed this far, surely he feels the same.

The rational part of you doubts it.

You can never find the same person twice, not even in the same person.

You think about the lost look on his face you catch at times. You see it when he thinks he’s hidden it well beyond your gaze. You see it when he’s all alone and has his mind to himself.

You’re afraid to lose him. Again.

Your vision blurs with the unshed tears pooling in your eyes and you look down to blink them away. They plop to the ground and you quietly sniffle, not wanting to break just yet.

There's an ache in your left shoulder blade and an insistent ruckus of doubt swirling in your head.

You can't sleep soundly anymore, not that you ever did since his death.

His death, you think.

It still hasn't hit you, that he's alive. He's here, in the flesh and in your home. You're able to talk to him, see him.

You remember how you'd piece your heart back together the next morning after letting it break the night prior.

You bite your tongue when the emotions overwhelm you, when you feel as though you'll die if you don't speak. So you bury those words deep in your journal, where ink meets paper and stays far away from his eyes.

Your eyes quickly gather more tears than you can keep from shedding and soon, you’re crying silently to yourself. For the umpteenth time.

It hurts. Your heart hurts and your throat hurts. Hurt is the only other feeling you’ve come close to familiarizing yourself with other than hope.

You don’t hear Jason’s motorcycle engine when he’s outside. You don’t hear his heavy footsteps mark their way onto your floor once like how they used to.

He stands outside but doesn’t have the heart to see you. Hearing how wrecked you are was enough.

It hurts him, not being able to remember from the jump but he knows how patient you are. How understanding you are.

He figures the most kindest souls are the ones that hurt the most.

So, he leaves. He spends another hour and a half out and decides to get you your favorite things.

Walking through the aisles, the plastic bags of grapes catch his attention the most.

“She loves these.” He says as he picks up the biggest, juiciest batch.

The assurance in his words gives him a confidence that rivals your doubt.

A short flashback of you munching away on the grapes as you study enters his mind.

You’re sitting by a windowsill and you’re typing away, pausing every few minutes to snack on the round fruit.

He smiles to himself and grabs a bag along with some sliced pineapples and mangoes.

“Cherries… with salt.” He hums to himself.

Yes, you like to eat your washed cherries with some salt sprinkled on top.

Jason chuckles as the memory of you whipping up that treat comes to mind.

He picks up a bag of those round, tangy red rubies and goes to checkout.

He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he can’t wait to see the look on your face when you see how much he’s gaining you back.

He returns with the sight of laundry done and put away, the dishes are washed and your lotus plant watered for the week.

But no sight of you.

Where are you?

Jason debates calling your cell.

Would it be weird?

You’re not his, well, anything. But you used to be.

Your caller ID tempts his thumb but he ultimately clicks off his phone.

You’ll show up sooner or later, wherever you are… right?

You’re a grown woman, you can take care of yourself.

His breath staggers in his throat at the thought of you by yourself.

What if some asshole creeps up on you? What if you run into some kind of problem but your phone’s drained? What if you get lost?

He groans as if the noise will silence those nightmarish scenarios. Jason’s hands pull at his hair and he paces back and forth in thought.

“Fuck it.” He grumbles.

He throws his black leather jacket on, keys and helmet in hand. Tying the laces to his boots, he twists the knob and opens the door.

“Y/n?!”

His eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his skull.

Your eyebrows jump at his sudden shout, clearly not expecting this welcome.

“Umm… expecting someone else?”

He shakes his head vigorously, depicting a relieved expression.

You chuckle at him and step inside. Jason never takes his eyes off of you, he locks the door with muscle memory.

“No, God, no. I was just worried— where were you?”

You feel the butterflies swarm your belly at his concern.

“I had to throw the trash out and it wasn't too far so I didn't take my car.” You point at the small bowl by the door and sure enough, your keys are in there.

He follows the beeline from your finger and can only say one thing.

“Oh.”

Oh? Oh?? You were losing your mind over some simple chore and all you can say is ‘Oh.’?

Jason feels stupid.

How could he not try to look for the one obvious thing you can’t go anywhere without? Just jumping to the worst conclusions without thinking straight.

He chuckles in disbelief, bringing a hand to cover the top half of his face in embarrassment.

“I’m so fucking—”

“Altruistic.”

You knew he was going to berate himself in humiliation and think of himself as stupid or some second thing so you brought it upon yourself to dismiss that notion.

Jason is floored by your ability to see things in a different light, one that makes others orientate their original position.

He never thought about it that way. Not once did it occur to him that he was being thoughtful, caring, considerate. Altruistic.

It's true that he's a vigilante. An anti-hero, if you will. Protecting others and being altruistic are synonymous.

However, to him; it's a foreign concept to be on the receiving end. He thinks it's suffocating to be looked after as if he were a child. Especially when people (his father) do things that they (bruce wayne) deem best for someone (him).

Well, he used to up until a week and a half ago. Until you came along.

“Altruistic.” He repeats, feeling the word roll off his tongue.

“You know, the term used to describe people who go out of their way to do something for someone?”

You're only joking, playing around with him.

He sees it, though. He knows you're trying to lighten the mood because of what you don't know.

Jason just nods, a short chuckle sounding as he responds to your dry wit.

“Right, right. Yeah. I think I've heard of that somewhere.”

You laugh. You laugh and it feels nice. Probably because it's the first time you've truly laughed in some time.

Jason wants to encase some of your laughter in a jar and shake it around when he feels down.

It’s a lovely sound, he notes. Like a satisfying tinkering that makes your mind just slow down for a bit. Relax and take a moment to just breathe.

Your short huffs of air dissipate. “You catch on pretty fast.”

“That I do.”

If only you knew. he thinks. He wants to tell you that it's okay to cry, to let the part of yourself break and piece back. He wants you to know that you don't have to pretend nothing's wrong and that the obvious elephant in the room can be addressed.

Instead, he doesn't do either of those things. Jason doesn't think he's earned the right to reassure you of things like that. He doesn't think it's his place but oh, the irony.

Jason Todd feels like a 16 year old boy again.

Not in the sense of being immature, stupid, and reckless. More to do with the matter of his growing body and the feelings that come with it.

He’s big, huge, even. He knows he takes up more space than he means to occupy so he does what he thinks is the least he can do.

For example, he eats more than the average man so he insists on helping with the groceries by paying for them sometimes.

You argue, and boy do you lock it down; but it’s in vain when he looks at you with those deep eyes and mutters a small, ‘just let me do this for you’.

For me.

You’re weak when he asserts himself against your judgement.

He feels 16 again when you look at him with nothing but unwavering care and respect.

He used to get those looks, he remembered. Once upon a time where he wasn’t undead.

It was from the boy he respects the most; his older brother.

Jason started getting dreams since the first night he slept in your apartment.

Usually, he can’t sleep and when he did; he’d get nightmares. But not this time around.

He dreams of a time in the past, one where he’s not beating on a lowly thug or vice-versa.

It’s oddly bright but not blinding, the daylight fills in color nicely.

You’re sitting on a bed— he believes it to be your old one— and you’re making something out of nothing.

“Whatcha doin’?” You say without breaking eye contact from the scissors cutting a heart shape into the cardboard paper.

Jason registers you’re talking to him but he doesn’t know what to say.

“Is this real?”

You snort and shake your head.

“No, Jace. You’re in a sleep-induced coma and I’m the light that’s come to finally take you away.”

A wide grin has slowly etched itself onto his lips, it lifts his cheeks and creases his eyes.

He sees your excellent timing for witty quips is still there. He also notes the way you carry yourself around his presence. You’re relaxed, calm.

You’re still the same you.

He sits at the edge down of the bed and you look at him with offense.

“Why’re you sitting so far away?” You pout

“But I’m right here.”

You lightly groan and reach out to pull him closer to you, his knees touch your thigh and only then are you satisfied.

“Better.” You express to him.

Jason takes this moment to get a good look at you.

He’s sure you’ve grown into your features now, time and style enhancing your appearance.

Everyone changes physically but he realizes it’s the inside he’s looking for.

“Jay?”

“Hm?”

“Wake up.”

That makes his heart drop out of his ass. He nervously blinks. “What?”

You look at him like you know. Like you know he doesn’t belong here, in the past.

“Wake up.”

You say once again but your lips aren’t moving. Why aren’t your lips moving?

“Hey, Jason. Wake up.”

He sharply gasps when he sits up, soft pants escape his throat and you’re here.

“It’s okay, you’re okay.” You reassure.

Your hands are on his shoulder and you’re sitting on the bed.

There’s a small nightlight plugged in beside the door to the bathroom and it illuminates your figure.

He makes out your face in the dark and once he realizes, he winds down.

“I couldn’t breathe.”

You nod. “I know. I was getting some water when I heard you wheezing.”

You were scared. You were worried and he knows it. He hears it in your wavering voice.

“I’m okay now.”

Jason doesn’t know why he feels the need to comfort you but he does.

Your hands aren’t on his shoulders anymore but he feels the warmth your touch leaves behind.

“I’m fine.” He murmurs again.

You just nod and get up to leave when his hand darts out to wrap around your fingers.

“…I had a dream. Er, nightmare? I dunno… A mix of both, I guess.”

You sit down and he wonders why he’s telling you this but the need to tell you overshadows his want to keep it inside.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what happened?”

You hope asking him won’t trigger anything because the last thing you want is to be nosy.

“We were in your room, I’m pretty sure. You were younger, though. Fifteen.”

You recall the moments Jason would sneak in from your bedroom window in your youth. He was 16 and you, 15.

Good times.

“You were making something… I don’t remember what, exactly.” He squints and moves his hands around, trying to recall the events leading up to the imagery. “I heard your voice telling me to ‘wake up’ but your lips weren’t moving.”

He looks at you, coming to an understanding. “Because you were telling me to wake me up in real time.”

You look at him and can’t help but feel sad.

“I'm sorry” You whisper, not trusting your voice.

Instantly, Jason cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing the skin under your eyes tenderly.

“I’m not.” He assures. “If this is what has to happen to me to remember you then I'm good with it.”

You close your eyes and sigh, your palms full with the bunched up material of your shorts.

He tilts his head closer to you, as if the distance is what's keeping you from truly seeing what's in his eyes.

“Look at me.” He gently asks.

You comply and he almost crumbles with how much you've managed to hide from him.

His eyebrows raise a little and come together in ruth. “Don't hide from me. Don't hide how you really feel.”

Jason doesn't know how he's doing this— touching you and saying all the right things. The words are just spilling out and for once, he can't stop himself.

Maybe because it's almost 3am and that's when his tongue and spine meet; to relay all emotion without a hiccup. 3am is when he's unabashed in his feeling, unafraid of his truth.

You stare. Your big, beautiful eyes pick at the spare parts of his woeful soul and you see. You see the windows of his soul tainted with an unimaginable sorrow.

“I can't.” You choke out.

How can you not hide yourself from him? How can you look at him and not want to open up your heart and let him see what's growing inside?

You're grief-stricken, he's melancholic. That isn't going anywhere.

“Y/n.” He implores you to reason with him. To give him a chance at witnessing you.

You feel like you’re drowning. You can’t breathe, your chest hurts and you feel your lungs constrict.

You can’t tell him how you really feel. He already feels guilty as is so how are you supposed to just let him read your mind?

To know how much you long for someone who can’t remember what you mean to them, to see how badly the lack of their presence has affected you.

Jason has no idea what realizing those things does to a person, what impact it’ll have on him.

He’s not ready.

“I… Good night, Jason.” You heave.

He watches you walk away, cutting him deep and leaving him to bleed dry.

The next morning can only be described as awkward. Tense awkwardness, actually.

There’s been no sign of you leaving your room since last night and it’s currently half past 2.

Jason hasn’t slept since you left the room. He was up all night evaluating all the possible outcomes from that point on.

Should he leave?

He knows you won’t ask him to but he wouldn’t abide by the request, anyway. He’s become selfish.

Yes, Jason Todd has grown accustomed to you and this little life of peace but he can’t be blamed. This is what he signed up for when he put a ring on it.

The ring. Your ring.

Now that he’s thinking about it, he’s seen you wearing it 24/7. Your left wedding finger is always donning the engagement ring, not once do you take it off.

Even when washing the dishes.

It is at this moment he has an epiphany. You were so close to letting your walls come down but seeing how afraid he was, painted in a foreign frame; you backed down.

He’s suddenly conscious of how much anguish you’re willing to put up with if it means for him to experience a minimal amount.

You want him to remember you without accepting the consequences of mental strain. You don’t want him to push past his anxiety, to make him face his fear of the unknown; but you’ll face your tears on your own.

A deep anger simmers inside him.

The amount of selflessness you’ve shown is incredibly unfair.

Isn’t marriage a united proposition? Isn’t his duty as your husband to make your problems his, to support you through all things good and bad?

You just backed away without giving him a chance to fully comprehend you.

How could you do that? Why did you do that?

Jason’s made a visceral statement in your life and he must know. He has to remember.

With a newfound confidence, he vows to try harder. He vows to push himself past the brink of frustration to remember you. He vows to do whatever it takes and replace that vacant look in your eyes with all those years of love and care.

He swings the door open and strides towards your bedroom. He knocks, a gentle rhythm of rapping. “Y/n? Are you there?”

He waits about 30 seconds before knocking and calling out your name again.

Nothing. No response.

Jason thinks about trying the knob but the last thing he wants is to scare you away.

Invading your privacy is a hard pass but he has to get through to you. He feels as if he’s running out of time.

In a desperate attempt to get a hold of you, he twists the knob but finds the space empty without you.

He goes to the bowl by the door and finds no sight of your keys but a sticky note, instead. Be back soon it reads.

Jason walks back to your room, standing in the middle of the doorway; unsure.

There’s a magnet inside that’s poking him, coaxing him to come in.

He knows he shouldn’t but would he find clues to a past life?

He tentatively steps inside, his eyes wandering around the interior.

Your color theme is fitting. Very you.

The walls are painted a nice color in coordination to your queen sized bedding. There’s a small bedside table with a couple of drawers with the most unique lamp he’s ever seen— a white lily of the valley flower and the bulb is inside!

It’s so you. He huffs out air through his nose and smiles.

He spots a halfway closed journal with a pen inside, marking a spot atop the desk.

No. I can’t.

But he wants to. He wants to know so bad what you’re really like. Who you are when you’re not performing for anyone else.

Jason wants to read the thoughts you keep buried so deep inside yourself, the secrets your heart closets. The pains your soul harbors.

But he can’t break the only trust he’s so worked so hard to build.

Jason runs his fingers across the spine of the book, feeling the embroidered thread run along.

There’s a poster above the table, one of your favorite movies.

A flash of color and sound hits his senses all at once. It looks like a memory of the movie.

Laughter, soft gasps, theatrical music to invoke foreboding feeling; only to be met with an emotional resolution from the unfortunate scene.

Tears run down your face as the beloved character faces his untime demise.

You couldn’t believe this. After all this time, all that character development, and he just… dies?

Jason doesn’t seem as tore up about it as you are but he feels for the character.

“He doesn’t deserve this.” You sniffle.

Jason nods, his arm around makes you close you in on his side and he rubs your arm up and down in a soothing manner. “I know.”

Jason exhales harshly, like he’d been holding a breath for too long.

He moves around, trying to find more things to jog his memory.

A glass jewelry box filled with pearls, gold, silver and rose gold jewelry catch his attention.

Where have I seen this before?

It’s like déjà vu except he can feel some kind of attachment to the object.

A finger lifts the lid and he finds a gold pole with a miniature ballerina glued onto it, separating the box into four sections.

“Happy birthday, Y/n!”

You’re surprised, of course a “simple dinner” wasn’t so simple. Nothing with Jason is, and that’s the beauty of being with him.

“Open my gift first!” Stephanie exclaimed.

You chuckled at her excitement and tore off the wrapping paper, ignoring everyone’s eyes gauging your reaction.

You softly gasp as the gift becomes visible, the beautiful glass case exceeding your expectations of a perfect jewelry box.

“Thank you, Steph.” You envelop her in a tight embrace, feeling oddly emotional.

“Welcome to the family.” She warmly congratulates.

It wasn’t official, not yet; but to be loved is to be seen. Feeling so loved by people who love Jason is fulfilling.

He watches as the two most important women in his life warm up to one another and he thinks of how blessed he is.

He blinks and is transported back into the present.

It’s working.

A joyous laughter exits his lips, the air filling his once empty lungs with a newfound hope.

A picture frame of you and him lies on your dresser.

He’s carrying you in his arms bridal style while your head is tipped back; an expressive look of joy on your face. He’s looking directly at the camera, donning a proud smirk in front of the apartment.

You two are in color while the rest of the background is in black and white.

There’s a small note at the bottom left, written in cursive. Congrats to our fav couple! with a smiley face next to it.

It’s like salt on the wound, seeing this photo.

He can feel his heart growing hands, scratching at the scar on his chest to be let out. To be freed from this torment of feeling.

The photo depicts everything he used to wished for, everything he had and everything that’s faded right now.

Your diamond ring shines brightly, competing with your smile and his eyes.

His index finger traces an outline of you and him. “I’m coming back to you.” He whispers.

You've been gone for quite some time, a little over 3 hours but you needed the time. You needed the hours to take a long reflection of the current state of things.

You kept thinking he wasn't ready but you realized that it was you. You weren't ready. Aren't ready? You don't know.

How does one find a way to cope with severe loss only for the pain and yearning to be diminished overnight.

Literally, overnight for you.

Events of last night come washing over your brain like a montage of your top 10 most embarrassing moments. It easily takes the place for #1.

You sigh, curling your fingers into your hair and gently tugging on them to punish yourself.

He didn’t deserve that. Just because you’re frightened of the future doesn’t mean he has to be on the receiving end of your cowardice.

You have to talk to him, to make this right.

You come back home at a reasonable time; right before you should start preparing for dinner.

It’s kind of dark, like a gloomy gray shadow blankets your living room.

But you see him. He’s sitting on the sofa waiting for your arrival.

“Jason.” You say his name so softly, he almost doesn’t hear it.

Another side effect from being baptized by the forbidden vat of acid are his attuned senses.

“I was waiting for you.” His voice is louder and clearer compared to yours.

“I know.” You nod.

“We need to talk.” He stands slowly, not wanting to alarm you.

“We do.”

“Then why don’t we?”

The desperation seeps into his throat but he doesn’t care. He can’t help it.

You shuffle your feet, feeling lighter on your steps.

“I’m afraid.”

Your admission is out of fear, anxiety, all things quiet. But it’s brave, sound, and all things hopeful.

Your sober judgement brings him closer to you.

“I can’t lose you again, Jason.”

You’re teetering on the edge of holding back and letting go.

He sees that.

Jason slowly brings his hands up, stopping at the length of your elbow. He’s still hesitant, wanting to touch you but nervous of the contact.

“You won’t.” He’s sure of himself. “I’m right here.”

He takes a hold of your elbows and his thumb subconsciously rubs up and down the skin.

You look into his eyes and all you see is the boy you fell in love with all those years ago.

He’s still in there.

“I’m trying. For you… for us.” He whispers the two-lettered word and it weighs heavy with the connotation.

“I just need you to throw me a bone.”

Despite the plea, he gives you a lopsided smile. One that shows he’s not annoyed or agitated with you.

And it makes you huff through your nose.

“Please?” He tries once more, a cute demeanor taking the place of his more serious tone.

You nod with pursed lips. “Okay.”

“Okay.” He whispers back.

You sit next to him on the sofa, sitting upright and where he can your side profile. Jason leans back in a small manspread.

“Where do you wanna start?” You ask.

Jason sits on this for a moment.

There’s so much he wants to know and at very different points in time. He thinks to tell you about his progress, the fleeting reels of the entire picture he envisioned.

Ultimately, he decides to have a go at the start.

“What was I like? To you, I mean.”

It shouldn’t surprise you that he asked one of the most obvious questions but it does. It surprises you because he hasn’t changed much.

You smile softly to yourself as time turns back. “You’re kind, gentle. Soft-spoken, loyal and so easy to talk to.”

He notices how you speak of him in present tense and not past like how he initially asked.

“You’re still the same.” You point.

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so.”

You tilt your head. “How do you mean?”

“I, uh.” He sighs deeply. “I don’t know how to go back to how things… were.”

It’s not an admission of guilt, so why does it feel like one?

“I don’t either.”

You bounce your knee, a subconscious habit.

Jason picks up on it though. Before he can control himself, it slips out.

“Stop that.”

You stop and meet his gaze.

He looks shocked at himself. “I- I’m sorry. I don’t know why... how—?”

“I do.” You say. “You used to say that when I’d get ahead of myself. In my thoughts.”

“In your thoughts?” He parrots.

You just nod enthusiastically, so happy with this sign of progress. “Yes! You could just tell what was going on with me.”

He nods, crossing one leg over the other.

“I didn’t mean to tell you to stop bouncing your leg.” He clarifies. “It just… it felt natural to say that.”

“It’s completely okay. I mean it.”

You titter and Jason thinks of wind chimes.

“What else?”

He hums in thought. “Our relationship.”

“I was fifteen and you, sixteen.”

Jason’s immediately reminded of his dream.

“Sorry to interrupt but was my dream real? Was that an actual memory?”

Your lips turn up at this attention to detail. “Yes. I was working on a project for my midterm and you came over to keep me company.”

“Woah.” He breathes. “We’ve known each other for that long.”

“Yeah, you asked me out a little after that and we’ve been together ever since.”

Jason thinks of his adoptive father. “Did Bruce know?”

You think of all the times you’d gone over to the mansion and acquainted yourself with its people.

“He said I was ‘probably the only good thing going’ in your life.” You quote his words and can’t help but feel a sadness for him.

You lost your lover, a piece of your heart. But he lost his son.

“Y/n?” Jason calls your name.

Your neutral expression shifts to that of being pulled from daydreaming.

“Yeah.” You blink.

Jason catches the swift switch up and wants to know if you’ll dodge him when he asks.

“Where’d you go just now?”

A lie sits on the tip of your tongue but you realize that you can’t keep him or yourself from the truth anymore. You can’t keep shielding yourselves from the inevitable reality.

“You made me think of Bruce.” You say honestly.

The man who’d gone to the ends of the Earth for vengeance. The man who was about to break his “no kill” rule.

Jason has yet to extend a helping hand in mending their fractured relationship. One person at a time he thinks.

“We got engaged young. I was nineteen.” You twist the ring around your finger.

“Was I romantic enough?”

His eyes are filled with mirth when your cheeks pull back and reveal your teeth.

Your smile is so beautiful. He takes a mental picture of it every time you show a variation.

The creases at the corners, the dimples, and lines all make your smile only that much better.

He wants to make you smile more. He’s so lost in the way your lips move that he forgets the original question.

“You proposed over a candlelit dinner at my favorite restaurant.”

He grows shy at the sentiment, hanging his head down and covering his face with a hand while his body shakes with mirth.

“Wow.” He muses.

You laugh at him, in the mood for some light teasing. “What, you getting shy Todd?”

His head snaps up at the fondness dripping from your tone at his last name. He’d never heard someone say his name like that before.

“No.”

He can deny it all he wants but the faint hue of red creeping up on his face says otherwise.

“You had the band play a song, too.”

You want to see if he can get this. It’s an incredibly important detail, one of which encompasses a very loving memory.

He racks his head around for this. A song. A song? There’s so many, which one could set the atmosphere for a promise of lifelong commitment?

Then, it’s like the whole room changes. An oil spill mirage of the restaurant paints the room.

You’re in a black dress, your hair’s done nice.

He closes his eyes and he can almost feel the air all those years ago.

The familiar melody of the tune rings in his ears and he knows he’s got it for sure.

Jason opens his eyes and is brought back to the present.

“The Flamingos.” He says.

It’s like he can still hear the song playing softly over conversation.

“I only have eyes…”

“For you.” You finish the lyric.

You two giggle, feeling silly and slightly awkward but it’s fulfilling. It’s like how it used to be.

He clicks his tongue, content with the shared experience.

“What about you?” He wonders.

“What about me?”

“Your life.”

Oh. Right.

Your eyelids flutter in a half-blink and suddenly the carpet is the most interesting thing in the world.

“My whole life fell apart. I didn’t know how to get through the day.”

I forgot how is left unsaid.

Jason eyes your mask slipping away.

“I was twenty when you were murdered.”

Murdered, he was murdered. That’s the truth.

The Joker was put away in jail for his crimes against humanity while Jason— your Jason— was lying the cold, hard ground. Barely breathing yet still alive

“I, uhh… quit college for a year. Couldn’t do it.” You pitifully chuckle at yourself.

You sharply inhale when your emotions come bubbling up to the surface again. “I eventually went back and finished my degree. Graduated cum laude at twenty-four.”

His eyes crease as his pride and joy defied the odds for her life. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You shyly grin.

He drums his fingers along his knees.

It occurs to you that despite your life’s lost momentum, the momentum on Jason’s life picked up faster than it ever had.

“And you?”

He doesn’t expect to be interviewed. “What about me?”

“What were you doing for the past four and a half years?”

Sweat forms under his palms and he subconsciously rubs them along his pajama pant clad thighs. Jason feels his face turn warm, he prays the redness doesn’t bloom along his cheeks.

“…I’d rather not talk about that.”

You give him a knowing look. “Jason.”

He winces, an eye closing while he sucks in air from his teeth. “Why do you sound like an upset mother?”

An incredulous laugh bubbles in your throat. “I'm not upset, just don't want you pulling a me."

He relents. “Okay, okay, alright. Fine, you win.”

He deeply sighs, rubbing his eyes and you turn your body to fully face him. You're legs are crossed and you sit up straight.

“You know Talia al Ghul.”

You nod, Damien’s mother isn’t exactly a popular subject but he is.

“She resurrected me using the pit and brought me back to train under the League of Assassins and the All-Caste.”

He was training for all those years?

“Training… for what?”

A grim expression overtakes his features. “I wanted to kill Bruce because I thought he left me to die.”

Pity is the last thing he wants but you can’t help but feel bad for him. He was tortured for so long, in the worst ways possible only to be mislead like that in the end.

“And now?” You hope he’s changed his mind.

“I’ve changed my mind.”

You unknowingly smile. “Okay. Yeah, that’s good.”

“I spent the last six months focusing solely on being a vigilante.”

“A vigilante.” You repeat.

Yes, you know there's more than what he's letting on but you want to hear his story from him. Isn't that what people who care for the other do?

“Yeah, I took care of the bad guys and started a little side hustle of my own.” He says it like it's no big deal

“I wouldn't call being a drug slash crime lord a ‘little’ side hustle.”

Jason's face blanks, he pales as you reveal the overall tone behind his cryptic message.

“You know.”

“Dick told me after he showed up with you.”

His eyes seemed to look right through you.

For the first time, you couldn't tell what was going on with him. You could no longer discern the distinction between his feelings and thoughts.

“Don't be mad. Please.” Your bargain comes rushing out.

“I'm not mad,” He voices in a hushed manner. “...’m just thinking.”

“Tell me.” You hesitantly put a hand on his. "I want to know what you're thinking."

A deep breath is sucked into his lungs. “I'm thinking about how much I want you.”

You dart back and forth between his eyes. He watches as your irises move between his slightly changed ones but contunues.

“I'm thinking about how someone like you can be with someone like me.”

He shifts his body slightly in your direction, wanting to close this space.

“I’m thinking about how despite everything, I've changed in more ways than one and you've still remained the same.”

“That's not true.” You shake your slightly.

“But it is, Y/n. My senses are heightened, my body isn't the same. I-I’m constantly feeling like I’m missing something and yet you're still here.”

Why wouldn't you be?

“Why, Y/n? Why haven't you given up on me?”

The answer to his questions are simple because it's the same answer. Yet, you're finding it difficult to say it it this moment.

“Why did you stop me from shutting you out?” You ask instead.

He stares at you, contemplating blurting out the thoughts and feelings that have plagued him since epiphany.

“Because I...”

You lean into him. “Because you?”

Jason looks away and shuts his eyes, trying to contain his brain running on a hundred thoughts per second.

“I… care about you, okay? And I’m not the same man I was before but I care.”

Your hands slide on top of his and the coldness of his knuckles diminish as your warmth spreads. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

Tears fill your eyes and he melts. His eyebrows furrow and forms a wrinkle.

“I hate it when you cry.” He says as his palm encompasses the back of your neck and he pushes you into his shoulder.

You hold his arms as you sniffle lightly into his bicep as his other hand rubs your back up and down.

“I know you’re different but he still lives inside you. I can see it.”

Jason thinks about that. Is it possible?

If you didn’t change so much then could it be that there’s a chance for him to connect to that version of himself?

It was never about going back. It was never about denying his existence now and stick who he was onto his back.

It’s always been about adapting to change. Learning to let go what doesn’t serve you and accepting that with time, you must change, too.

Jason may recover the lost pieces of who he used to be but he still has to learn who he is.

“We can make new memories.” Your watery voice croaks.

You sit back and look at him, really take your time to absorb this moment. Him. Us.

“It doesn’t matter how long it takes for everything to come back. We can still make the best of what we have now.”

He stares at you and knows you’re on the same plane as him. You always were.

He cups your face and tilts your head towards him, pressing a kiss to your head. You close your eyes at his touch.

“We will.”

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character 2024 — Scripted Redemption Bracket — Round 3

Propaganda

SPEAKER (SAYER) (Boba Count: 3):

#whoever follows me VOTE SPEAKER MY BELOVED WAR CRIMINAL PLEASEEEEE #OCEAN THINKS ITS TOO STUPID FOR SARCASM BUT ITS LITERALLY BEING SARCASTIC WITH IT ALL THE TIME. #IT CAUSED THE SECOND CATACLYSM. IT KILLED MILLIONS #IT HAS THE WEIRDEST HOMOEROTIC WORKPLACE RELATIONSHIP WITH SAYER #IT GIRLBOSSED ITS WAY OUT OF DEACTIVATION #IT HUNG UP ON OCEAN TWICE #''ah but i am finished with you. goodbye subversion 8.01. listen for the click!'' #AND #''but as for last words? no i cant imagine wasting any more on you'' #CANON IT/ITS PRONOUNS USER #ITS SO CUNTY. IT SERVES. ITS LITERALLY SO FUCKING MEAN AND THE FUNNIEST MOTHERFUCKER ON THIS BITCH EARTH #I LOVE YOU SPEAKER ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥💥💥💥 #thats my propaganda

Doug Eiffel (Wolf 359) (Boba Count: 2):

man with long hair + lots of body hair + nicotine addiction + aura of cringefail #is v attractive to me sorryyy

#EIFFEL! #vote eiffel everyone #my boy <3 #my awful girldad <3

#DOUGLAS EIFFEL #YEAHHHH GO CRINGEFAIL PEACEKEEPER

Additional propaganda below the cut:

SPEAKER (SAYER):

Sure, it intentionally caused a global catastrophe, but the spine it hides behind its customer service façade? Hot as fuck.

#I would commit terrible crimes for them #They have commited terrible crimes for themselves

#wait for the click! #cmon that is just sexy

#this thing !! #this thing stares down the face of death and gives it a winning smile! #this thing is tailor made for it!! #pleaseee.

OH THERES PROPAGANDA #LETS NOT FORGET ITS FIRST EVER APPEARENCE THREATENING TO GIVE A GUY THE SYMPTOMS OF RABIESSSS

Doug Eiffel (Wolf 359):

he's hot. dilf. silly. yeah.

#DOUG! DOUG FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!

#doug eiffel is one of the only characters in this tournament i genuinely find attractive godbless 🙏 #(​<- /acespec not /passive aggressive to be clear)

I don't really remember anything about Wolf 359 since I only listened to a few episodes so I'm throwing my lot in with whoever has the most compelling/funniest propaganda. I think this would be funny and I commit to nothing if not the bit

[blondesfawn]

SOBBING FR TYSM. this helped me im gonna lurk around places and see if i can find them. i really appreciate it ‼️

guys!!! look what i just bought, i'm the happiest i could be even if i spent my last money on it. bought it as soon as i saw it, probably one of the rarest dyl shirt out there <3333

can't wait for it to get here AGHHHG

[homiesexuallaj]

Daredevil Born Again spoilers ‼️

I was thinking about how Frank totally went down way too easy when it went for the AVT at Red Hook. But then I was thinking he did that on purpose. He could’ve totally went down that easy because he wants to get on the inside of the task force and find their ulterior motives other than being a “Punisher Fanclub.”

Also him gaining that one guy’s trust and then going feral on him. Oh Frank Castle, I love you so much

[raptorladylover6969]

JWCT S3 SPOILERS‼️‼️

Yall remember that little joke I made about The Handler coming back reincarnated as a raptor?

Well…I made an outline, and I made a fic. Here’s the prologue.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64746172/chapters/166363078

Chapters: 1/?

Fandom: Jurassic World: Chaos Theory (Cartoon), Jurassic Park - All Media Types

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Major Character Death

Relationships: Darius Bowman/Brooklynn, Yasmina "Yaz" Fadoula/Sammy Gutierrez

Characters: Darius Bowman, Ben Pincus, Kenji Kon, Yasmina Fadoula, Sammy Gutierrez, Brooklynn (Jurassic Park), Atrociraptor Handler (Jurassic World: Chaos Theory), Lewis Dodgeson, Soyona Santos

Additional Tags: Post Season 3, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Topics of the afterlife, Heavy talks about death, religion mentions, Memory Loss, Spoilers, This fic also implies The Handler WAS a raptor in her past life, The Handler also gets a name and it's Katya.

Summary:

Seems the bite of the Carnotaurus wasn't enough to keep her away.

After the altercation at Malta, The Camp Fam finds themselves now investigating the secrets behind the Atrociraptor training program in the heart of BioSyn, as well as uncovering more secrets yet to be found.

Brooklynn can't seem to shake the Atrociraptor Handler out of her mind, not entirely of trauma, but of guilt. Guilt of how all that woman ever wanted was to be reunited with her children, and now, she's gone, and so are her babies. Maybe BioSyn will somehow give her mind some closure.

But closure is not all Brooklynn will discover.

Brooklynn finds herself in an abandoned paddock at BioSyn, where she comes across a baby Atrociraptor whom had just hatched, but something about the glint in this raptor's eyes seems all too familiar...

[akihikosanada]

p3p is batshit because years after playing it and being a fan you will learn insane facts like how there is a hangout with akihiko you only get in january if you're dating him but without a maxed out link (by this point everyone probably already finished it), picking a seemingly random option in one of hidetoshi's ranks will prompt him to confess his love for you on the school rooftop (without any actual option to romance him obviously, silly p3p moments) and if you tell bebe "i love you" is how people say goodbye in japanese at the end of his social link he will be like. btw i knew what it meant all along. and i always meant it (again, no option to actually romance him)

[shakingparadigm]

ROUND 6 leaks

[orangjoe]

My favorite movie actor

(I beg you to click for better quality)

But at what cost…

[wishchip106]

urghs i’m in desperate need of a fic where instead of finding Raven, Erik finds Charles waiting in his room for him

(this is the only picture we have of Charles sitting on a bed in fc 😒)

hrmm Charles offering for them to drink the bottle of wine he brought as if he doesn’t have ulterior motives for that night

and then of course that would lead to them drunkenly making out on the bed and then more but tumblr doesn’t me talk about that 😼😋

“Well this is a surprise” “A nice surprise?” scene but cherik aughsr

[hyunpic]

HYUNJIN | SKZ CODE EP. 58

[yourfavinthebasement]

SOLIDARITYGAMING and SMAJOR are locked in the basement together

[starflungwaddledee]

Hi there, Starstruck! I've heard you're a very very super normal totally average Waddle Dee.

You don't remember much of your life before arriving on Popstar, correct? And I think that's pretty alright- it seems like you've created a wonderful life for yourself! But if you had the choice to decide what sort of past you had, what sort of history do you think you'd choose?

we were all a little cringe in our younger years. ‼️ new mechanic: vote carefully! ‼️ starstruck wants to run!! you'll have to work together on one option if you want her to approach.

<< prev || [masterpost] || next >>

[buckxtommy]

my roman empire fr

[itzmellooo]

why? because i realised i have free will. that's why.

[dreamyblanket]

Honestly, they are pretty chill for someone who regularly interacts with multiple eldritch creatures.