#i don't know... i'm just very into scents

[count-on-mi]

Mommy's little boy (Momo)

Momo has a mature female body that makes me mouth-watering, her big round breasts, firm buttocks and plump thighs all make my heart flutter.

As soon as I saw Momo, my young rod became hard as a rock. When I got home, I couldn't help but masturbate to Momo's body many times to quench my thirst.

During my youth, Momo became the object of my most obsessive masturbation. Her physical charms were like an aphrodisiac that I couldn't resist. I knew every detail of her body by heart, and I could even visualize her naked body according to my fantasies.

Her pink labia and the tips of her breasts must be very colorful, there must be a place of ecstasy between her legs, and the aroma of her whole body is enough to make people go crazy for her ... These thoughts often make my blood boil and keep me up at night.

My infatuation with Momo is growing, but it's getting deeper and deeper. Whenever Heechul calls and invites me to his house, I will be there as soon as possible.

Today I came to Momo's house again, but unfortunately, Heechul happened to be out of town and Momo was the only one home.

“It's a shame, but since you're here, why don't you stay for dinner?” Momo warmly invited me.

I was delighted, this was just what I wanted. It would be my dream to have dinner alone with Momo. "Really? That would be great! Thank you for the invitation." I said hurriedly, unable to hide my joy.

Momo took me to the dining table and started to make dinner. She was wearing loose loungewear, and her breasts stood up high, with two pink protrusions peeking out. I looked at her breasts greedily, my eyes lingering on those two pink spots.

The table was filled with colorful and delicious food, but I didn't know what to eat, all I could think of was how to get Momo into my arms to kiss and lick her.

After dinner, Momo offered to clean the kitchen, and I volunteered to help with the dishes. We stood at the sink, Momo bending over the faucet to rinse the dishes, her soft loungewear clinging to her body, emphasizing the curves of her figure.

I couldn't help but breathe heavily, and the part in my pants was stirring. If I could push Momo down in front of the kitchen cabinet right now, spread her legs and penetrate her hard… Just imagining that image made me so excited that I could hardly contain myself.

I couldn't hold back any longer, so I hurriedly washed the dishes and ran straight to the restroom with the excuse. The moment I closed the door, I couldn't wait to free my lower body.

At a glance, the laundry basket contained Momo's freshly removed clothes, the most prominent of which was the black lace bra and panties that she had worn. My heart was pounding so hard that I could hardly breathe, this was the treasure I had been longing for!

Carefully picking up Momo's underwear, I pressed my nose close and inhaled the rich fragrance. Oh my god, is this the smell of Momo's private parts? Such a strong scent, it made me feel like I was melting inside.

Then I turned to Momo's bra and rubbed one of the thin pieces of fabric over the tip of my nose. I could still feel Momo's soft and creamy skin through the thin material, and I was so turned on that my soul was trembling.

Back to the black panties that I craved the most, imprinted with traces of Momo's bodily fluids, emitted a faintly fishy-sweet scent. I hooked my finger onto the small piece of fabric and licked it gently on my tongue, the flavor made my rod swell to the extreme, bouncing up and down uncontrollably.

After tasting Momo's lingerie, I began to frantically stroke my swollen cock. With my right hand, I stroked the root of my dick, and with my left hand, I cupped and stroked the sensitive crown of my dick. Momo's naked body was all I could think about, and I was fantasizing about her riding on top of me.

"Momo... I want to penetrate... I want to fuck you... I'm going to penetrate your pussy with my cock..." I murmured, as if that would satisfy my desire.

Momo's pussy must have been hot and wet, wrapped tightly around my cock. She'd keep wiggling her ass to satisfy me, and she'd even let out a tantalizing gasp, asking me to fuck her even harder. This sight brought me closer and closer to orgasm, and my movements became faster and harder.

Finally, after a series of intense strokes, I shot my thick semen onto Momo's panties, the sticky white cum instantly soaked through the black fabric, glistening lustfully in the light. I was so immersed in this intense sexual pleasure that I almost lost consciousness ...... Until Momo's voice came from outside the door. “What are you doing in there, why don't you come out for so long?”

Hearing Momo calling me from outside, I realized how bold and unhinged my behavior was. I hurriedly grabbed the black panties that were covered with my turbidity and tried to put them back into the laundry basket. But my action was too big and Momo heard the sound of clothes rubbing together and she opened the door to check the situation.

She opened the door to see what was going on. I was at a loss for words, throwing Momo's panties back into the hamper in a frenzy, fearing that she might notice something strange. “Why are you taking so long to wash your hands?"

I was trying to find an excuse, "Nothing... My stomach just not feeling so well. Auntie Momo, what do you want to see me about?"

"It's raining outside, I'm afraid you'll have to wait until the rain stops before you can go home, right? Do you want to stay over?" Momo said with concern.

Anticipation rose in my heart, but I was worried that Momo would find out what was going on. I could only pretend to be embarrassed, and declined, "But that's not a good idea... What if it disturbs your rest?"

"It's okay, my husband is away on a business trip anyway and Heechul just texted me he is not coming back today, so I'm the only one at home. Don't worry, you can stay and sleep here." Momo smiled and patted me on the shoulder, signaling me not to worry anymore.

Now I was really relieved, Momo said that I should stay and sleep here, does that mean that I will have the whole night to be alone with her? My mind was already thinking about what I would do to her on the bed.

Momo insisted that I stay the night, and I was happy to do so, though I put on a grudging face. After we cleaned up the house together, Momo suggested that we go to the couch and watch some TV to relax.

“Yeah, I was just about to come over and talk to you.” I said as I followed Momo into the living room and sat down next to her.

Momo was only wearing a flimsy loungewear, the two snowy peaks in front of her chest were slightly undulating with her breathing, and the shape of her pink nipples could be seen vaguely. I couldn't take my eyes off her breasts, and my mind began to fantasize about those erotic scenes again.

Momo noticed my gaze and a hint of embarrassment flashed across her face, but she quickly adjusted and continued to chat with me as if nothing had happened. Even so, I was so captured by the seductive scent of her body that I couldn't concentrate on what she was saying.

My attention was focused on Momo's bouncing peaks, and I wanted to reach out and knead them, to feel their softness and elasticity; or to kiss them, to suck the red spots into my mouth. I was on the verge of losing my mind, and I couldn't hold back the urge to jump on Momo and kiss and caress her.

Luckily Momo didn't notice my perverted thoughts, we just chatted casually while I just admired her charming and sexy body. Soon I realized that I was already hard and had to adjust my sitting position frequently to try to hide it. The feeling of repression was just too much.

Momo and I chatted on the sofa for a long time before she finally got up and suggested going back to her room to rest. This was the moment I was waiting for. I nodded my head in agreement, eager to find a place to continue my "activities".

“Then I'll go back to the bedroom and take a shower first, you can organize your things and get ready for bed.” Momo said as she walked towards the stairs, her plump hips swaying from side to side as she walked, it was extremely seductive.

As I watched Momo's silhouette disappear on the second floor, I immediately ran to the kitchen and took out Momo's freshly washed underwear, intending to go to the restroom to give vent to my desire once more. However, just as I was about to take action, Momo's voice called out to me from downstairs:

"Wait a minute! Which room are you going to sleep in? Do you want to sleep with Auntie Momo?"

I didn't react at first and asked, "Isn't you sleeping by yourself? Why do you want me to share the room with you?"

“Haha, because there might be thunder at night, Auntie Momo is afraid of the dark and thunder, so I want you to stay with Auntie Momo and chat with me.” Momo said with a smile.

My brain stopped running for a few seconds. Oh my god! That's an invitation to go to her room and do whatever she wants! My heart started to pound, and I blushed. But on the surface, I had to put on a difficult face and say no: "It's... It's not good, is it? "

"No, you can sleep with Auntie Momo at ease." Momo said as she walked over to me and took my hand, and without a second thought, she took me to her bedroom .......

Momo pulled me into her bedroom, the room was filled with a faint aroma of lavender, and the quilt on the bed had already been lifted up to a corner waiting for me to fall asleep. I sat on the edge of the bed, not knowing how to look, on the one hand, I was overjoyed to be able to spend the night with Momo, but on the other hand, I was nervous that I would be discovered.

Momo seems to see my hesitation, smiled and comforted me: "Do not be too formal, just like usual at home. I'm going to take a shower and change my clothes first."

After she said that, she turned around and left the bedroom, leaving behind a room full of scents that made me think about it. After about twenty minutes, Momo came in, wrapped in a pink silk robe. This robe was much more revealing than the two pieces of loungewear she wore before - the V-neck of the upper body was almost open to the waist, exposing a large area of smooth and tender skin, Momo's pair of rounded and full peaks were also outlined in a particularly attractive way; while the lower half of the body's high-cut was directly to the root of the thighs, and as long as the slightest movement could be seen inside the panties and the snow-white legs. The lower half of the body was even high-cut directly to the base of the thighs, and if she moved a little, I could see the underwear inside and the snow-white curves of the legs.

Seeing Momo dressed like this, my lower body immediately reacted physiologically and quickly became engorged with blood and stood up. I hurriedly turned my back to Momo, trying to cover up the embarrassment. But just sniffing the fragrance of Momo's body and imagining her half-naked body, my rod was already so excited that it hurts. I can't control my strong desire to possess her.

Momo seemed to notice the abnormality in my body and laughed softly, "What's wrong with you? Are you not feeling well?"

I was so shocked that I almost jumped up. It turned out to be Momo who walked behind me, gently wrapped her hands around my waist, and pressed a pair of plump and elastic breasts tightly against my back.

"Aunt Momo, why are you...? I'm fine, I'm just a bit hot..." I was stunned by the sudden embrace, and for a moment I didn't know what to say.

"Really? But you look so flushed." Momo's voice was soft and sweet as she breathed in my ear, her flirtatious tone making my heart pound.

I felt Momo's body getting closer and closer, and those two soft and elastic objects were rubbing my back gently with her breath, stimulating my whole body to be tingling. I couldn't help but let out a low gasp, and my rod became even harder.

"Aunt Momo, I... I didn't mean that... I, I just..." I didn't know how to explain the current situation, so I had to stammer.

"It's okay, I just want to know if you don't mind Auntie Momo holding you to sleep? You look like comfortable~" Momo deliberately slowed down her speech and smiled warmly. One of her hands was still rubbing my abdomen, occasionally skimming over my crotch, causing me to shiver.

This demon! This is clearly deliberately provoking me, to see if I can lose control so easily.  I couldn't help but grit my teeth, but I didn't dare to show it, for fear of being found out what I was really up to. I could only maintain a calm expression, trying to resist the urge to grab and rub Momo's breasts.

I gradually could not restrain my inner impulses, slowly turned around to face Momo, hands also smoothly surrounded her slender waist, Momo sensed my change, then increased the force to hold me tightly into the embrace.

Her breasts were pressed against my body through the thin fabric, undulating and rubbing against me as she breathed. The feeling was so erotic that my heart rate shot up and my body temperature rose. I looked down at Momo, only a few centimeters between us, and the sound of each other's breathing was clearly audible. Momo's black hair fell on my shoulders, and the fire burning in the bottom of her eyes seemed to be about to set me on fire as well.

My sanity is gradually collapsing, the fire of desire inside my body is burning. I stretched my neck and tentatively put my lips on Momo's, feeling the heat of her lips and the seduction of her slightly open lips. Surprisingly, Momo didn't stop me but instead cooperated by probing her soft tongue into my mouth and entwining it fiercely with mine.

"Mmm... Aunt Momo..."

“Don't talk...” Momo gasped and stopped my next words, deepening the kiss. Her arms wrapped around me a little tighter, and my whole body was locked around her as if she was trying to devour me. We are letting each other's juices flow in exchange.

Our tongues were intertwined like two greedy vipers, twisting and biting each other. I greedily sucked the sweet juices from Momo's mouth, wanting to swallow them whole. We kissed louder and louder, saliva spilling out of the corners of our mouths and wetting the messy marks on our faces. My body was trembling with passion, and my penis was throbbing with excitement as it was pressed against her soft belly.

Momo suddenly let go of my lips and looked up at me. Then she leaned down and kissed me again while her long fingers peeled off her thin robe. I saw two pink and rounded buds suddenly exposed in the air, they were like two cherry blossoms in full bloom, delicately colored. I couldn't help but move forward and took a bite of one of the stamen-like buds, sucking greedily.

“Ah...” Momo let out a delicate sigh, and then twisted her waist, so that her lower body and my erect penis rubbed more closely together. At the same time, she crossed her legs on both sides of me, preventing me from escaping her control. I felt that my desire was about to be aroused to the limit by her, and my penis involuntarily twitched a few times, and a hot stream of water dripped out along the column ......

"Aunt Momo... I, I can't help it..." I murmured in her ear, but Momo just accelerated the swaying of her body, leaving me to struggle underneath her.

After hearing my words, Momo did change her position. She gently pushed me away from her and lay down on her side, and I followed suit, crouching on one side of her shoulders and neck. As I continued to lick the red cherry that was already covered in saliva, I watched her start to undo my pants. Soon, my pants were off, and my hot cock popped out, Momo's hand wrapped around it and stroked it up and down.

“Hiss...” I couldn't help but suck in a breath, it was too good. Her technique was skillful and gentle, from time to time, she used her fingertips to gently scrape across the coronary groove, giving me a tingling and unbearable stimulation. Soon there was a stream of cloudy white mucus overflowing from the tips, and when she saw it, she was even more excited, she increased her speed and vigorously stroked it.

I couldn't stand this extreme pleasure and hurriedly grabbed her wrist to stop. However, this action made her even more excited, and she even held my palm and clasped her fingers together, not giving me a chance to get out of her control. I had no choice but to let her set fire to all parts of my sensitive body, feeling like I was about to lose control and surrender at any moment.

Just as I was on the verge of collapse, Momo suddenly let go of my hand, raised one of her thighs across my belly, and then held my sinewy member, letting it fall into her body little by little.

I was already on the verge of orgasm, and with the hot, wet squeeze of Momo's pussy, I finally reached my peak the moment she entered. I gripped the bed sheet tightly and ejaculated stream after stream of thick cum against her depths.

"Uhh... Ah... Why did you cum so fast..." Momo lets out a sigh of satisfaction, but also in a slightly surprised tone. She slowly withdrew from me, looking at my glans hung with freshly gushed goo and what seemed to be more ready seed.

“You're still a virgin, aren't you?” Momo asked. I froze for a moment, not knowing how to answer. Her expression became very complicated, like she was a little distressed but with a hint of amusement." I knew it... You just did that with my underwear in the bathroom... What a perverted child... "

She paused, a feminine smile on her face, "My husband hasn't touched me in a long time either... It's a good idea to grab a young boy like you to take care of my needs," she said, crawling back underneath me, swallowing my parting in one bite, and starting a new round of teasing.

"Whoo.... ...Aunt Momo... Wait..." I was surprised by her sudden attack, and I almost lost my sanity, "What do you mean by that...? What do you mean..."

Before I could get an answer to my question, Momo had already used her extraordinary lip and tongue skills again. Her flexible and soft tongue licked around my erection, and occasionally she went deeper into my mouth and kissed the mouth of the bell. I could only feel the urges in my lower body getting stronger and stronger, and soon I was back in the groove.

"Auntie Momo... I want you..." I eagerly begged for pleasure, and Momo willingly lay down on the bed, spreading her legs, presenting her wet and pink petals in front of my eyes.

My breath caught in my throat, and my reasoning collapsed as I gripped my pestle and mortar tightly in both hands and leaned in towards Momo's private parts. The head of my cock rubbed against her swollen, sensitive clitoris, eliciting convulsions and low gasps.

"But... I don't have a condom..." I knew I should have pulled back before it was too late, but my body's desire had already won out over my reasoning.

"It's okay... You can cum in... Auntie Momo won't get pregnant here...I am safe today." Momo called out softly, cupping my face in her hands and staring at me with longing eyes. I couldn't resist this invitation, and slowly inserted my rod into Momo's already muddy pussy...

"Ah... ...Aunt Momo... I'm cumming..." I gritted my teeth and pushed in deeply, only to feel the warmth and tightness inside, wrapping my shaft layer by layer. Momo's whole body was trembling, and her mouth also let out a joyful and delicate chant.

“Uh...” I hummed out softly, Aunt Momo's pussy wasn't as tight as it should have been, but the abundance of water made me feel incredibly warm and melted. I couldn't help but speed up my pumping, and with each stroke I could clearly feel the head of my tortoise tracing the folds of her body, bringing unspeakable tingling and pleasure.

"So big... So hard... You're so powerful for such a small boy... It's even bigger than my husband's..." Momo gasped softly, her hips twisting to meet my thrusts. Her words made me feel a tinge of pride and made the connection between our war even tighter. I grabbed Momo's slim waist and thrust harder, Momo let out intermittent, soft moans that were like an aphrodisiac in my ears.

I moved my hands to Momo's long thighs, spreading them even wider, and then leaned down and pressed Momo's torso. The sensation of our skin sent shivers down my spine, and at the same time I rammed into Momo's deepest parts with increased force. The sound of clashing flesh was especially loud in the quiet night, Momo was gradually captured by my attack, her eyes were misty as she intertwined her fingers with mine.

My lips were roaming on one side of Momo's breasts, greedily savoring the light milky scent she gave off. Momo, on the other hand, always turned her head sideways and let out a heavy breathing sound, my double attack seemed to bring her great pleasure. The sheet under my crotch was already wet with Momo's continuous flow of nectar, and my rod would always be wrapped in a ripple of tidal waves as it traveled through it.

"Hmm... Y/N... Faster... Mmmm..." Momo couldn't stop urging me on, while her legs were wide open to meet my more intense thrusts. Her breasts are also bouncing up and down under my violent movements, and the two red cherries are rolling on my chest, bringing some tingling." Got it..." I sped up the frequency of my thrusts and felt Momo's body jerk at one point, a few short gasps following. She seemed to be a little disoriented by the top of my movements, frowning and biting her lower lip, even her toes curled up tightly.

I quickly stopped my movements and looked at Momo with concern, fearing that I might hurt her, but she quickly shook her head, a satisfied look on her face, "No... Y/N... You go on... Auntie Momo likes it..." As she said that, Momo opened her arms and took me into her arms, letting me lie between her breasts as if I were a child. Encouraged, I immediately went into another round of attack, filling the room with the sounds of pounding flesh and my proud Momo's moans. ......

Just as I increased my thrusts, Momo's expression suddenly became painful. Immediately afterward, her lower body clamped and a warm stream of water gushed out from the depths, drowning my entire penis in it. I immediately raised my body and pulled out my penis, and at the same time, a transparent jet of water shot out from Momo's honey pot, not only wetting my lower body, but even landing a few drops on my body." This... Is this... An orgasm...?" I watched in confusion as this happened, only to feel Auntie Momo's lower body spewing nectar like an open faucet. Momo's body didn't relax until more than ten seconds later, and her two soft breasts were swaying slightly with her trembling breath. Momo's cheeks were flushed, and she looked like she was enjoying the extreme pleasure she had just experienced.

After a while, Momo slowly stood up, pressed me down on the bed, and then gently stroked my already swollen part a few times. She then lowered herself to the ground, opened her red lips and swallowed the entire shaft, Momo's face was extremely charming, like an obsessed woman trying to please her lover. As the warm, moist walls of her mouth rubbed against the penis, there was a watery sound, and a stream of clear mucus overflowed from the tip of the penis, connecting it to Momo's red lips. Moving from my pussy to Momo's mouth, two very different sensations intertwined, causing me approaching orgasm, and I had to grit my teeth and restrain myself." Auntie Momo... I'm going to..." I mumbled, and Momo took hold of my cock, then left my wet tip and leaned in for a deep kiss. We were like a couple in love, kissing each other like crazy.

At this time Momo held my penis and rubbed it outside her petals a few times, then slowly sank down until the whole rod disappeared all the way into her tight private parts.

"Good... So big..." Another praise escaped from her mouth, Momo's walls seemed to have become even tighter due to the intense orgasm she had just had, almost completely wrapping up my penis without leaving a single gap.

"Me too... It's very comfortable, Auntie Momo..." Momo's face was still flushed. Then she started to push her waist, moving her lower body back and forth on my cock. My rod was stirring back and forth inside her hot and wet honey tunnel, rubbing against her sensitive inner walls.

Momo shook her long hair in delight, the sensation of being filled with a cock was too good to be true. I could not help but get even more excited as I looked at her happy face from my supine position. It was unbelievable to be able to fuck such a gorgeous wife and have her voluntarily gallivanting on top of me. I grabbed Momo's huge peaks with both hands and kneaded them, her gasps became more and more ragged, and her private tunnel was tightening without her realizing it. A kind of magical attraction was constantly reaching my penis from inside her body.

After about five minutes of this position, Momo suddenly lay on top of me, her long legs changed to a kneeling position, and she tightly wrapped them around my waist.

Momo then pressed her red lips onto mine, her soft and slippery tongue sliding in and out of my mouth. At the same time, she began to thrust vigorously, each time pressing the center of her womb hard against my cock.

The sound of flesh hitting flesh was loud and clear, Momo had no intention of slowing down at all, like a pile driver she was thrusting fiercely in and out, and my prick gradually developed a tingling sensation.

"Auntie Momo... I'm about to cum..." I couldn't help but beg for mercy, but Momo didn't budge, instead she sped up the frequency. Each heavy drop brought a sharp shock of pleasure to my penis, bringing me to the brink of an explosion.

"Auntie Momo... ...Auntie Momo... I want to...!" After a few minutes of rapid strokes, I finally reached the ultimate moment when my penis exploded with thick essence. At the same time, Momo's womb bites down on my tip, pouring down warm cum. Momo locked me in the deepest part of the canal, the hot liquid instantly filled the entire canal, the sensitive walls of the flesh felt an unprecedented burning pleasure . Momo was panting on top of me, her huge breasts squeezing my chest and trembling, and the only sound left in the room was the breathing of the two of us.

Momo stood up, straightened her appearance and left the room slowly. She went in the direction of the restroom and didn't come back for a long time. I got tired of waiting, so I rolled out of bed and went to the restroom to look for her. The lights in the hall were dim, and only the bathroom light was on. I cautiously walked over.

I saw Momo standing in front of the mirror with her head down washing her face. I followed her figure and noticed that Momo's private part between her legs was slightly red and swollen, with some white mucus coming out of it.

I think that should be the marks left by me before, I smiled in understanding. Momo was shocked and looked up at me through the mirror.

"Y/N? Do you want to go to the toilet too?" Momo asked. "Yes... I want to go to the...' toilet'." As I said that, I had already taken hold of my dick and slowly pushed it into Momo's vagina.

"Hmm... So quick... Again... Mmm..." Through the reflection of the mirror, I could see Momo's blush quickly creeping up on her cheeks again, and her pair of full breasts trembled slightly as she breathed.

I gripped Momo's hips with both hands and moved them forward and backward in time with Momo's rhythm, and Momo immediately lifted her ass up to make it easier for me to pump.

The sound of my body hitting Momo’s became louder and louder. The sight of my cock entering Momo's pussy was too exciting, plus the love juices that Momo's lower body was constantly secreting made my cock become slippery and shiny.

"Y/N... Hmm... Auntie Momo still has to work tomorrow... Uh..." Momo spoke intermittently, and from the mirror, I could see that her expression was already immersed in lust, making it difficult for her to extricate herself, her eyes were streaming, her cheeks were crimson, and her ample breasts were undulating restlessly. All of this was firmly controlled by my penis.

“I'll pick up the pace then, Auntie Momo...” As I said that, I sank my fingers deep into Momo’s ass cheeks and began to thrust with all my might. There was a lot of intense “popping” sounds, and a few of them even reached the womb opening, causing Momo to gasp a few times. Accompanied by the “plopping” sound of water, there are constantly spilling out from the place of coitus  " No... I can't make that sound again..." Momo hurriedly covered her mouth, desperately trying to restrain the winks that were spilling out from her throat.

The standing doggy position brought a very different feeling from the previous position, while looking at Momo's desperate expression in the mirror and her breasts swaying back and forth, at the same time, feeling my cock expanding a bit more. "Uhh... Ah... It's too deep... Y/N..." Momo's body trembled a few times, she knew that I had broken through the cervix and entered the deepest part, she couldn't help but gasp out. In the mirror, she seemed to see the same sight, and more ecstasy and longing welled up under her eyes. "Mmm... Y/N's cock is too powerful... Auntie Momo can't stand it anymore..." Momo twisted her waist impatiently, trying to get more pleasure. But my fingers had already clamped down on her waistline, preventing any possibility of escape. Momo's belly bulged slightly, as if she was harboring a tiny life. I couldn't help but increase my pressure, each stroke was a powerful one, pushing the head of the turtle to its deepest point, Momo's mind was almost on the verge of losing control, her nails were embedded in her palms, tears were coming out of her eyes, but she couldn't stop her mouth from letting out petulant whimpers and gasps.

As my cock moved in and out of Momo's vagina, a stream of tingling electricity gradually accumulated in my mind. I pinched Momo's waist and used all my strength to send my penis to the deepest part. “Aunt Momo!” After a roar, my tips burst into the uterus, countless hot white cum shot into Momo's most private place. Momo's body lightly trembled for a moment, then gasped violently.

After about a minute, I reluctantly withdrew my cock. After three good sex sessions, Momo's lower body had already been filled with my essence, so even at this point I couldn't stop ejaculating, and a large amount of milky white color still flowed out from Momo's open pussy, I rubbed my rod on Momo's ass a few times to clean up the remaining cum on my tips.

Momo was lying on her stomach by the sink, her legs trembling, her rounded buttocks high in the air, a picture that rekindled the desire in my body. My penis, which had not yet softened, immediately rose up again and was ready to go.

“Aunt Momo, I want you again...” Without waiting for Momo's response, I leaned over and fell on top of her, wrapping my hands around her armpits and kneading the soft flesh of her breasts. At the same time, my rod once again broke through the door and pounded into Momo's body. "Hmm... Not so fast... We should take a break... Ah..." Momo tried to protest, but her words were soon replaced by a series of gasps. I accelerated the speed of my thrusts, going deeper and deeper, soon pushing Momo's sanity into a bottomless abyss.

Since that day, Momo and I have been in an instant relationship. Whenever I came to my best friend's house after school, we would always have sex in the bathroom, then step out of the shower together, smile at each other, kiss and hug, and then go into the bedroom and close the door to continue our “workout”. I believe that even the closest friends could never have imagined that one day his best friend would be with their mom, right? After all, who could have imagined such a scene - a young handsome high school student kneeling in front of his best friend's mother, licking her stamen; or this mature and colorful middle-aged woman sitting on her son's best friend's lap, writhing her voluptuous body

[starxanemone]

𖣯 BLUE LOCK FRAGRANTICA

michael kaiser. alexis ness. otoya eita. baro shoei. oliver aiku.

fragrances and specific perfumes that i think blue lock characters would be attracted to based on their personality & preferences.

note 01 ⸻ implied fem reader. apologies if most of the perfumes listed below are more feminine-leaning. i just really don't like most of the masculine-leaning perfumes and so i tend to stay away from them. most of them make my head hurt for some reason.

note 02 ⸻ also named this hc after my favorite perfume website, aka fragrantica : ]

MICHAEL KAISER: ROSES, LYCHEE

𝐝𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐢𝐟

Delina is a delicious perfume with a fragrance of roses mixed with the juicy and fruity scent of lychee, and the base note of vanilla which adds a creamy feel. The sweet and slightly tart fruit balances out the crispness of the roses, which gives the floral aspect of the perfume a slight twist. The vanilla, on the other hand, binds the two prominent notes together to give it an almost creamy, velvety atmosphere.

It's canon that Kaiser loves roses, but I feel like just the flower itself is a noticeable reminder of the unhealthy parts of himself despite its typical association with him having power over himself and the people around him. The lychee balances this out by adding sweetness into the mix, and the plushness of the vanilla makes the typically crisp roses to smell more comforting. It makes him think of the petal's gentle caress rather than the sharp thorns digging against his skin.

ALEXIS NESS: VANILLA, LAVENDER

𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬

Oh, god, this perfume emits a sense of strong and independent. Alexis has always admired the types of people that are able to control their own "loneliness," and the feel of this perfume is synonymous to that.

Although the dominant note in this is vanilla, this is not the sweet and juvenile kind, rather, it is mature and put together. The vanilla is thick and rich, but is balanced out by the powdery-floral scent of lavender. It's clean, luxurious, and slightly bold at the same time. There is a deep and and very slight hint of spiciness in the opening which elevates the perfume's personality.

This is the type of vanilla worn by anyone who silently commands respect.

( note. this is my the perfume i dream to have lolol )

OTOYA EITA: MARSHMALLOW, WHIPPED CREAM

𝐬𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐭𝐡

Sabrina Carpenter's Sweeth Tooth gives off a sweet and girly scent. It's light, sweet, and airy like taking you on a trip to cotton candy clouds. The marshmallow note that basically encapsulates the whole perfume mixed with the whipped cream plus the chocolate within its list of notes makes this sweet and perfect for someone youthful. It's sugary and powdery, like drinking sweetened milk with marshmallows on top.

I personally get the feeling that otoya's pretty into girly girls, like someone who likes to wear fluffy, light-colored clothing and likes to style their hair into cute hairstyles. This perfume captures that kind of vibe.

BARO SHOEI: WHITE FLORAL

𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚'𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐱𝐲 𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐬

Baro loves to clean, so I'm sure that he loves anything that smells clean as well. There are only three notes in Very Sexy Oasis which includes tuberose, orange blossom, and camelia, but the two white florals definitely stand out the most.

The fragrance is white and silky, almost similar to the scent of a creamy shampoo. It blends together to form this smooth and clean scent, like you're showering underneath a waterfall or bathing in a sunny oasis whilst surrounded by an array of white-petaled flowers. It's simple and straightforward—nothing complex unlike most of the perfumes that exist to boast about their beautiful complexity. This one is different—different in a way that is effortless.

OLIVER AIKU: COCONUT, VANILLA

𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐳𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐬

Oliver Aiku. A womanizer. And you know what type of person fits a womanizer? A maneater who knows how to put them in their place—someone who knows out to lift the chess pieces and bring them to a checkmate. He likes a challenge, and this perfume is perfect for someone like that.

This perfume is sweet, warm, and slightly nutty from the coconut which gives it an exotic feel. Kind of like cracking open a coconut, drizzling the meat with coconut milk and vanilla, and inhaling its scent right beside the sea and underneath the hot sunlight. It definitely gives off the vibe of someone sensual and bold, completely unafraid to let go and just feel themselves. No one can ruin their vibe yk?

[curiouspupsicle]

Good Omens Fan Fiction Friday (4/25/25) - Sexy Moments (that aren't explicit)

A glance. A touch. A breath. Sometimes the sexiest moments appear perfectly innocent--on the surface. These fics might just convince you that the sexiest moments aren't always explicit.

(please, only 18+ below)

Recently I remembered something that may explain why I don't find Explicit fics as sexy as many people seem to.

One of my first jobs out of college was for a doctor running clinical trials of experimental drug treatments for people living with AIDs (yes, I'm old; be thankful if you're young enough to only know about the AIDS/HIV crisis by reading about it).

She assigned me the task of editing a safer sex manual. Are you surprised to know I would never curse anyone with the hell of sitting across a desk from your boss discussing the importance of proper nail care before engaging in anal fisting?

So, yeah. that could be one reason I prefer subtlety when describing intimate moments in fics. Luckily, there are some gifted writers who create very sensual scenes that aren't explicit.

(Note that some of these fics are rated E; but the moments I'm highlighting are not.)

Let's start with @hermiola's Growing on Me (M), containing the scene that inspired this category. Crowley is a fading rockstar struggling to complete an album. Aziraphale is the writer he's paired with to finish the lyrics at a remote retreat on the Isle of Skye.

The bicker/flirting is delicious. The seduction competition is teasing. But the sex appeal ramps up to 11 with Crowley singing the Clash's Should I Stay Or Should I Go at the local pub in chapter 7. And Aziraphale isn't the only one in the audience affected.

Prolific fic writer AppleSeeds wrote a sexy manicure in Eden Nails (T). Aziraphale gets his nails done by Crowley at the new shop in the neighborhood. This fic is nearly all manicure. It's beautifully written and very sensual.

Next up is Feast (E) by @ashfae and @mostlyjustgoose. Aziraphale is lonely while Crowley sleeps through the Covid lockdown. So he plans a magnificent dinner for the pair to catch up--a truly seductive meal.

"Not just dinner, his pounding pulse sings. This will be a temptation worthy of a Serpent, with meaning in every bite. An invitation in flavours, a message written directly onto a forked tongue. His whole life he’s been a half-baked hedonist—enjoying only the pleasures he knows he can get away with—but he has centuries’ worth of meals and secret thoughts to draw on for inspiration, and now there’s a wild absence of fear in him."

It's filled with temptation and double entendres. And yes, it does end by earning the Explicit rating. But it's a sexy slow burn to get there.

@addledmongoose's My Heart Was Always Yours (M) is a creative tale in which Aziraphale and Crowley do not know each other. Hell assigns Crowley to recover Raphael's trumpet needed to start the Second Coming. And Heaven wants Aziraphale to do the same.

To provide cover, Aziraphale asks a "human" (Crowley) to pose as his spouse at the sale. Of course, Crowley thinks Aziraphale is human too.

In chapter 20, the pair start to confront the feelings that have developed between them without either of them realizing the other isn't human (see, I told you it was fun). It leads to a very sexy scene that ends with this:

"I flicked a forked tongue against the skin, letting the scent of his aftershave and cologne fill my lungs. He was panting, murmuring my name under his breath, and I very nearly forgot where I was until the lift dinged.

I immediately straightened and turned to face the exit. Aziraphale lurched upright with a startled choke. The doors opened, and I smiled politely at the elderly man waiting to enter. His gaze danced between the two of us, and he snorted a knowing laugh.

I stepped out and looked back. “Coming, angel?” I asked, just as sweetly as he’d spoken to me moments ago. If my voice was a little raspy and my face flushed, it was nothing compared to how debauched Aziraphale looked.

"Looks like he was pretty close," the elderly man said under his breath."

A sexy scene that makes me laugh? Yes, please.

Oh, Billy Brown (E) by mostlyineffable/Quintissentialnutcase won't be a good pick for everyone--mind the tags. But this fic based on the song by MIKA is sensitively written and a good read.

It makes this list for the end of chapter 4 which includes a conversation between Aziraphale and Crowley at the pub. It incorporates the vulnerability of the pair with the powerful attraction, making a scene that is believable and sexy.

Thanks to @stupidphototricks for recommending this one to me. I probably would have passed it by due to the tags without you highlighting it.

This is getting long so I think I'll end with one of my favorite fics, Among the Stacks (NR) by @rhosmeinir. Yep, I've recommended it before. And I'll recommend it again. You can't stop me! Bwahahahaha!

But seriously, it's just that good. And it makes the list for Azrariah and Crowley's kisses in front of the fireplace in chapter 14. The scene is so tender. And yes, sexy.

Did you like this theme? Do you enjoy a good sexy (but not explicit) moment in a fic? If so, let me know by reblogging and commenting and I'll revisit this theme in a future post.

I'll be back next Friday with more great Good Omens fan fics on a new theme. In the meantime, check out my other favorite fics on this pinned post of weekly Good Omens fan fiction recommendations. And if my faves appear to be your faves, check out my bookmarks on AO3--all the fics I rate in my top 10% of everything I've read.

Don't forget--always thank fic writers with kudos and comments. They give us such wonderful gifts and it's appropriate to show our appreciation for all their hard work.

[moodient]

Headcanons on what I think the Arcane Characters smell like:

disclaimer: MY OPINION!! MY OPINION!! MY OPINION!! thank you.

let's start off with jinx:

- main smell: gunpowder

-hints of blood, electricity, and spray can fumes, also a tiny hint of hair dye and crayons.

-modern smell: artificial tropical fruit flavor and still gunpowder. she smells like an energy drink.

vi:

-main smell: sweat and ink

-hints of cologne, leather, alcohol and metal.

-modern smell: strong men's cologne but her musk mixes well with it! (I also love to think she uses axe body spray but that's for shits and giggles.) possibly musk and cedarwood.

caitlyn:

-main smell: lavender soap

-hints of metal (coin smell precisely), more lavender and baby powder

-modern smell: of course soapy smell, but she smells like money and still lavender. expensive but floral.

cassandra kiramman:

-main scent: very floral, lavender and lilac is absolutely her scent

-hints of musk and vanilla

-modern scent: she absolutely smells like privilege and money so she smells like heavy vanilla, saffron and oh, tea leaves!

mel:

-main smell: expensive perfume

-hints of old papers, roses and a tiny bit of blood

-modern smell: she smells expensive but hints of mango and sandalwood in it. I definitely see her a summer girl scent girl. but she's a summer girl with money..

isha:

-main smell: crayons

-hints of sweat and chalk

-modern smell: she smells like gummy worms, that's all.

lest:

-main smell: freshly washed shampoo fur, like a berry flavored smell.. i'm thinking blueberry.

-hints of frankincense and smoke

-modern smell: she absolutely smells like old tarot cards and plants! i don't know but i definitely see lest as a plant momma.

sevika (BIG MOMMA):

-main smell: motor oil, smoke, and a slight cologne smell, it's quite unisex.

-hints of alcohol, gunpowder and metal

-modern smell: I know damn well, sevika smells so fucking good. she has a light men's cologne, something with sandalwood and sage. a powerful scent but subtle, and also.. newspapers?? or old book smell.

ambessa (MY HOT WIFE):

-main scent: milk and honey but also a heavy feminine perfume, something expensive.

-hints of blood and something sweet, like a light vanilla scent..

-modern smell: EXPENSIVE, EXPENSIVE, EXPENSIVE. she literally smells like a billion dollars. oud, vanilla, sweet almond, musk...even saffron, i can see her wearing something unbelievably expensive just because she can.

grayson:

-main scent: light women's perfume, but has small hints of mens cologne in it, she mixes it.. jasmine, vanilla, and sandalwood.

-hints of alcohol (whiskey??)

-modern smell: she absolutely smells like heaven, probably would she smells like the main scent but instead of whiskey, she has a slight wine smell.

a//n: i'll probably do a part two when I'm not drunk!! leave a comment on what you think! 💕

[bumblebeeswrite]

lowkey need some angst with jason 👀

maybe "It's only been a couple years. You couldn't have missed me that much." from the angst prompts with reader returning to camp and jason dealing with unresolved feelings abt her?

WITHOUT YOU | JASON HOCHBERG

summary: it's been three years since you've seen camp pineway.

CW: Mild language, brief mentions of past relationship issues, angst, unresolved feelings, bitterness.

The old Camp Pineway sign creaked in the summer breeze, the faded paint muted against the vibrant green of the surrounding trees. Three years. It had been three years since you last stood at this very spot, three years since the echoing laughter of campers and the smell of pine needles had filled your senses. A nervous flutter danced in your stomach. What would it be like? Would it be the same? More importantly, would he be the same?

You took a deep breath, the familiar scent of the forest grounding you. As you walked towards the cluster of cabins, memories flooded back – late-night talks by the campfire, the thrill of color wars, and the quiet moments shared with Jason. Jason. Just the thought of his name sent a pang of something you couldn't quite define through your chest. A pang that was quickly followed by a wave of guilt.

The years since you'd left Pineway had been filled with… well, life. College, a job, the slow process of figuring out who you were outside the bubble of summer camp. But a part of you had always remained here, tethered to this place and the people in it. And Jason… Jason had been a significant part of that tether. A part you had broken.

You spotted him before he saw you. He was standing near the main lodge, talking to a group of younger counselors, his familiar enthusiasm evident in his gestures. He looked… older. The boyish charm you remembered had matured into something more, something deeper. But there was a hardness in his eyes that you didn't recognize. He was still Jason, but with an edge. A sharp one.

Your heart skipped a beat as you approached. He turned, his eyes widening slightly as they landed on you. For a moment, it was as if no time had passed at all. But the almost goofy grin you remembered didn't appear. His expression remained carefully neutral.

"Y/N?" he said, his voice a little rougher than you remembered.

"Hey, Jason," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

The group of counselors around him scattered, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. An awkward silence hung between you, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

"Wow," he finally said, running a hand through his hair. But it wasn't the awed, almost relieved tone you expected. It was laced with something colder. "It's… it's really you."

"Yeah, it's me," you said, offering a small smile. A smile that didn't quite reach your eyes.

He stepped closer, his gaze searching yours, but there was no warmth in them. "It's only been a couple of years. You couldn't have missed me that much."

His words weren't casual. They were laced with a bitterness that made you flinch inside. He wasn't downplaying anything. He was throwing your own actions back in your face.

"Three years," you corrected gently. "And I did miss it. Miss this." You hesitated, then forced yourself to say it. "Miss you."

His jaw tightened. "Right," he said, looking away. "Well, it's… good to have you back. Camp hasn't been the same without… without everyone."

"Everyone?" you raised an eyebrow, a weak attempt at your old playful smirk.

He turned back, his expression hardening. "Don't play coy with me. You know damn well it wasn't 'everyone'."

The anger in his voice was unmistakable. It was a slap in the face, a stark reminder of the pain you had caused him.

"Jason, I—"

"Save it," he cut you off, his voice low and dangerous. "I'm sure you have some excuse. You always did."

The words stung. You deserved them, but they still hurt.

"So," you said, changing the subject, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy, "how's camp life treating you?"

He launched into a clipped, almost curt description of the new activities, the changes to the cabins, and the latest batch of campers. It was Jason, but it wasn't. The enthusiasm, the passion, the joy that usually radiated from him were gone, replaced by a cold, professional detachment. As he spoke, you found yourself shrinking inside, the weight of your past actions pressing down on you.

Beneath the surface, the unspoken hung heavy between you. The memories of your last summer together, the night by the lake, his confession, your rejection… it was all there, a wound that had never healed.

Later that evening, you found yourself by the lake, the same spot where you and Jason had spent countless hours talking, sharing secrets, and dreaming about the future. The water was still, reflecting the star-dusted sky. The same sky that had witnessed your biggest mistake.

You heard footsteps behind you and turned to see Jason approaching. He stopped a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked, his voice devoid of any warmth.

"Something like that," you replied, turning back to the lake.

A heavy silence settled between you, thick with resentment and regret. Finally, Jason spoke, his voice low and rough.

"I… I never really understood why you left," he said. It wasn't a question, but an accusation.

The question hung in the air, raw and vulnerable, but laced with a bitterness that made it hard to breathe. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself to confront the past, to finally give him the explanation he deserved, even if it was too late.

"It wasn't about you, Jason," you said, choosing your words carefully, though you knew they would never be enough. "It was about me. I panicked. You were… you were the first person I ever felt that way about, and it scared me. I was young, and I didn't know how to handle it. I thought if I left, the feelings would go away. I was wrong."

He nodded slowly, but his expression remained hard. "So you ran," he said flatly. "You ran away from me, from us, because you were scared."

"Yes," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. "I ran. And I've regretted it ever since."

He was silent for a moment, then turned to face you fully. "Do you ever regret it? Leaving?"

The question hit you like a punch to the gut. Did you regret it? Every single day.

"Every day," you said, the words torn from your throat. "There hasn't been a single day in the past three years that I haven't thought about you, about this place, about what I threw away. If we.."

You trailed off, the unspoken words hanging between you. Jason's gaze intensified, his eyes searching yours, but you couldn't read what was behind the anger.

"If we what?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft.

You hesitated, the years of distance and uncertainty suddenly feeling overwhelming. But something in Jason's eyes, a flicker of something that might have been hurt, gave you the courage to speak the truth.

"If we had taken a chance," you said, your voice equally soft. "If I had been brave enough to take that chance with you."

A long silence stretched between you, broken only by the gentle lapping of the water against the shore. Jason stepped closer, closing the gap between you, but there was no tenderness in his movements, only a controlled tension.

"I wanted to," he said, his voice thick with a mixture of pain and anger. "I wanted to take that chance more than anything. But you left, and I… I got the message. Loud and clear."

"That's not what I meant to—"

"What did you mean, Y/N?" he snapped, his voice rising for the first time. "What did you expect me to do? Wait around forever? Put my life on hold while you 'figured yourself out'?"

You flinched at the harshness in his voice. "No, Jason, I didn't expect you to wait. But I also didn't expect you to become… this."

"This?" he scoffed, gesturing to himself. "This is what happens when you get your heart ripped out and stomped on. This is what happens when someone you thought cared about you decides you're not worth the risk."

The words were like a knife, twisting in your chest. You wanted to reach out to him, to touch him, to try and bridge the gap that your actions had created, but he stepped back, putting more distance between you.

"It's only been a couple of years," he had said earlier. But those years had felt like a lifetime. A lifetime of missed opportunities, of unspoken feelings, of what-ifs. A lifetime of him trying to move on, and you realizing you never could.

"It's not just been a couple of years for me either, Jason," you whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

He turned away, his jaw tightening. "Then why come back?" he asked, his voice low and accusing. "Why come back here and do this to me? To yourself?"

You didn't have an answer. You had come back to Pineway hoping for a second chance, hoping that maybe, just maybe, you and Jason could find a way to heal the wounds of the past. But seeing him now, so cold and bitter, you realized how foolish you had been.

The rest of the night passed in a blur of tense silences and averted glances. As the first rays of dawn painted the sky, you and Jason stood by the lake, the same spot where it had all begun, and where it had all ended.

"So," you said, breaking the silence, your voice trembling slightly, "what happens now?"

Jason turned to you, his expression unreadable. "I don't know," he admitted, but there was no hint of hope in his voice. "I don't know if anything can happen now."

He stepped closer, but his hand didn't reach for yours. It stayed by his side, clenched into a fist.

"I came back here because I realized I was in love with you, Jason," you confessed, the words finally out in the open, hanging between you like a fragile thread. "I was in love with you then, and I'm in love with you now. But I understand if that doesn't matter to you anymore."

He stared at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, but you couldn't decipher the emotions within them. Finally, he spoke, his voice flat and devoid of any emotion.

"It doesn't," he said. "It doesn't matter anymore, Y/N. You made your choice three years ago. And I'm done paying the price for it."

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing by the lake, the rising sun casting long shadows around you. The future was no longer uncertain. It was bleak. You had come home, but you were more lost than ever.

The following days at Camp Pineway were excruciating. Jason maintained a carefully constructed wall of indifference. He spoke to you only when necessary, his tone polite but distant, his eyes never meeting yours for more than a fleeting moment. You tried to engage him, to bridge the chasm that had opened between you, but your efforts were met with a cold, impenetrable silence.

You saw him laughing with the other counselors, sharing stories around the campfire, his face animated and alive – the Jason you remembered, but a Jason who seemed to exist in a world that no longer included you. It was a constant, painful reminder of what you had lost, of what you had thrown away so carelessly.

The campers, oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, treated you both with the same cheerful enthusiasm, their innocent interactions a stark contrast to the emotional turmoil you were experiencing. You found yourself retreating more and more, seeking solace in the quiet corners of the camp, the beauty of nature your only companion.

One evening, you were sitting on the dock, watching the sunset paint the sky in vibrant hues of orange and purple. The familiar ache of regret washed over you, stronger than ever. You closed your eyes, willing yourself to find some semblance of peace, but the image of Jason's hardened expression kept flashing through your mind.

You heard footsteps on the wooden planks and opened your eyes to see him standing a few feet away, his hands shoved into his pockets, his posture tense. He looked as weary and conflicted as you felt.

He didn't speak, and for a long moment, neither did you. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken words, with the weight of the past, and the uncertainty of the future. Finally, you broke the silence, your voice barely a whisper.

"Jason," you said, your voice trembling slightly. "Please. Talk to me. I can't… I can't keep doing this."

He remained silent, his gaze fixed on the water, his jaw tight. You could see the internal battle raging within him, the struggle between his anger and hurt, and something else… something that you dared not name.

"I know I messed up," you continued, your voice stronger now, fueled by a desperate need for closure. "I know I hurt you. More than I ever intended. But I'm here now. I'm here, trying to fix things, trying to make you understand."

Still, he didn't respond. He stood there, a statue of pain and resentment, his silence more deafening than any words could have been. You felt a tear roll down your cheek, and you didn't bother to wipe it away.

"I don't expect you to forgive me," you said, your voice thick with emotion. "I don't even know if I deserve your forgiveness. But I need you to say something. Anything. Tell me you hate me. Tell me you never want to see me again. Just… just don't shut me out like this."

Your words seemed to finally penetrate his carefully constructed armor. He turned his head slightly, his eyes still fixed on the water, but you could see the muscle in his jaw twitch.

"I don't hate you," he said, his voice low and rough. The words were barely audible, but they were enough to give you a sliver of hope.

You took a tentative step closer. "Then what? What do you feel?"

He was silent for a long moment, and you held your breath, waiting for his response, your heart pounding in your chest. Finally, he turned to face you, his eyes filled with a raw vulnerability that made your heart ache.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice hoarse. "I feel… everything. Anger, hurt, resentment… and something else. Something I thought I'd buried a long time ago."

He stepped closer, closing the gap between you, his gaze searching yours, as if he was looking for an answer to a question he was afraid to ask.

"I spent three years trying to forget you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "Trying to convince myself that I was better off without you. That I didn't need you."

"And?" you prompted, your voice equally soft.

He hesitated, then took a deep breath, the fight draining out of him, leaving behind a fragile vulnerability. "And it didn't work," he confessed. "Every time I thought I was finally over you, something would remind me of you. A song, a place, a memory… and it would all come flooding back."

He reached out, his hand hovering hesitantly in the air before finally brushing against your cheek. His touch was gentle, tentative, as if he was afraid you would disappear if he touched you too hard.

"I'm scared," he admitted, his voice raw and honest. "I'm scared of getting hurt again. Scared of letting you back in, only to have you leave again."

Tears streamed down your face now, but they were tears of relief, of hope. You reached up and covered his hand with yours, your touch trembling slightly.

"I'm not going anywhere," you said, your voice filled with conviction. "I'm here, Jason. And I'm not leaving again. Not ever."

He looked at you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours, his expression a mixture of disbelief and longing. Slowly, a small, hesitant smile touched his lips – the first genuine smile you had seen from him since your return.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely a whisper, but filled with a newfound hope. "Okay."

And in that moment, standing by the lake, the setting sun casting a warm golden glow around you, it felt like maybe, just maybe, you and Jason could find a way to heal the wounds of the past and build a future together. The road ahead would be long and difficult, but for the first time in a long time, there was a glimmer of hope on the horizon.

[slasherslittlesimp]

Katsuki Bakugo- Soulmates

Blue flames engulf the forest around you, the scent of burning trees making your head slightly dizzy. Tonight is the night the League of Villains attack the UA students once again only this time with the intent to kidnap a certain young boy. This is also your first night fighting alongside the famous group of villains with the purpose of proving yourself to Shigaraki.

Twigs crunch under your feet as you slowly walk through the forest whistling a random tune to yourself, your eyes scanning the trees for any movement. Your group had split off in multiple directions in search of the target leaving you to wander by yourself. Though, it's probably better that way- you don't exactly work well with others.

The sound of leaves crunching under the weight of someone's feet catches your attention as you turn to look to your left. Squinting, you see Moonfish or whatever his name is crouching on the ground as he talks to himself, a dismembered hand next to him. You cringe slightly at the sight before moving on- the guy gives you the serious creeps.

You don't get very far, a roar erupting from somewhere ahead of you. You stop walking as you listen for the sound again, searching for what could've made the noise. Trees sway back and forth in front of you as a giant shadow creature makes an appearance, another person sprinting towards you in front of said creature.

You make eye contact with the masked boy but he keeps running straight past you. His arms are folded behind his back as if carrying something but you don't exactly get the chance to see what as a large hand smashes against you. A scream of pain erupts from you as you fly through the forest landing after roughly crashing into a tree. Your body wobbles slightly as you stand up, groaning from the pain radiating through your body.

The shadow creature is still coming towards you but you don't run. Why? Because your target is standing a few feet away from you with a few other boys. And, unfortunately, a very freaky Moonfish.

You watch as Bakugo, your target, stops another boy from attacking your co-villain only for him to be slammed into the ground by the very thing that attacked you moments before hand. You would've helped him but he's weird and that shadow thing is fricking gigantic. The shadow continues to beat the shit out of Moonfish before slamming him into a tree and knocking him unconscious which then spurs the boys into finally taking action. Flames and explosions go off and soon the shadow is shrunk down to a boy with a bird head.

You stay silent against the tree you had previously been thrown into as the boys converse amongst themselves, having yet to notice your presence. There's a good chance you could take them all at once but after seeing what just happened you aren't about to try. Slowly, you take a step back only to freeze up as a twig snaps beneath your foot. The five boys quickly turn to face you, all of them ready to fight- well, maybe not the green guy with the absolutely demolished arms.

"Who are you?" Said broken boy questions, a wary look on his face.

"Nobody you need to worry about," you hold up your hands in mock surrender. "Just a random person taking a stroll through the woods."

"Dark Shadow attacked that person earlier," the masked boy speaks up. "I ran past them before while he was chasing me."

"Damn, you really gotta go and expose me like that huh? Alright, well if you really want to know then I'll tell you. I go by Gravtrap and I'm a member of the League." You slowly lower your arms. The boys stiffen at your announcement of being a villain though your target just looks pissed off. "I'm sure you've all realized by now why we're here."

"You're after Kacchan." Green boy states, his brows furrowed as he glares at you.

"Bingo," you shoot finger guns at the boy while smiling. "I'm not really sure why though but what the boss wants the boss gets."

"You're not taking him," the fire boy speaks up this time, stepping slightly in front of Bakugo which only seems to make him angrier.

"I'd like to see you try and stop me," you smirk, activating your quirk. They all smash down against the ground as you increase the density of the gravity around them, trapping them with the force of it. They groan as they struggle against it, their bodies barely moving.

"I'll blow your fucking head off you fucking bitch!" Bakugo screams, small explosions sparking in his hands.

Your heart stutters at his words but you keep a neutral expression as you stare at him. "Damn, do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" You watch as he stops struggling, his eyes widening as your words fully register.

"What did you just say?" His voice is quiet this time which seems to surprise his classmates since he's usually loud and obnoxious.

"You heard me," you scoff, frowning as you look at him. Just your luck that your soulmate would be some hero wannabe. After he had said those first words to you, your mark started buzzing. The words that you had never really cared about before now feel heavy against the skin of your chest, right under your left collarbone.

The boy seems stunned as he lays there against the ground, unable to say anything else as his mind races. His soulmate mark feels the same as yours which only makes the situation that much more real. The boy trying to be the number one hero just had to have a goddamn villain as his soulmate.

Your eyes trace over his features as you stand above him, truly taking in the way he looks. You have to admit that he's absolutely gorgeous- pale skin, glowing red eyes, and damn those muscles. What you mostly notice is the look of utter defeat in his eyes though. It looks as if every spark of fight in him diminished the second he found out who you are.

I can't do this...

You release your quirk, allowing the boys to get up off of the ground. You even go as far as to let them subdue you, the boy with split hair placing ice around your wrists before picking you up. They walk on in silence, all of them forming a protective circle around your soulmate. You can't help but to look at him sadly as he stares down at the ground, his thoughts obviously anywhere but there at the moment.

You want to apologize for some reason- for being a villain, for being his soulmate, for everything. He probably had this big perfect idea in his head about what you would look like only to be met with reality. I mean, you both live in completely different worlds. There's no way you could be together, right?

Unless.... You change who you are.

You've never been 100% committed to being a villain. It kinda just happened and you went along with it. At some point a girl around your age found you and introduced you to the League, which you've only been a part of for less than a month so there's no real connection there. No real reason to stay.

Being a hero now would be impossible. Sure, you've never actually done any real criminal acts besides joining a group of villains- you've never murdered, robbed, assaulted, anything. Hell, you've never even done petty shit like graffiti or pickpocketing. This was your first time actually breaking the law and even then you really haven't done anything. But, surely being involved with the League is good enough reason for you to be locked away for a long time. Maybe you can convince whoever takes you in to give you a chance.

"Uraraka!" You're pulled from your thoughts as the green haired boy- Midoriya- speaks up. You move your gaze towards where the others are looking, only to be slightly surprised. Toga, the girl who recruited you, is pinned under a brunette girl who has a giant needle sticking out of her thigh.

"Uh oh," Toga giggles as she sees you. "Looks like you got caught (N/N). I probably shouldn't do the same." She manages to fight her way out from under the girl before moving to run away. "I don't really feel like dying tonight so I'll be going now!" You watch as she takes off into the forest, nobody bothering to chase after her.

The people around you start talking about their plan to protect Bakugo only to realize that he's no longer standing there, along with the bird boy. Your eyes instantly snap up to the tree line where Compress is, his head shaking slightly as he looks at you.

"Give him back!" Midoriya yells at the other villain, all of them finally noticing him after he spoke up. Compress takes his time in teasing the poor students before announcing to meet at the meeting point, his words echoing through your earpiece. You watch as he takes off bounding from tree to tree as he slowly disappears into the distance.

Todoroki drops you on the ground as they all come up with a plan to get their classmates back from Compress. Their best option is apparently to float and be thrown by frog girl. It's a solid plan but gravity might not work in their favor, especially from that height. So, you speak up.

"Let me help." They all seem startled at the sound of your voice, having completely forgotten about you.

"Why should you trust you?" Todoroki questions, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're a member of the League which makes you an enemy."

You sigh, shifting so you can make eye contact with the boy. "I'm not an official member. Tonight was supposed to be the night I prove myself or whatever but in all honesty I could care less about that right now. I haven't even known these people for a month anyways."

"Doesn't really sound convincing," Midoriya hesitates as he stares down at you.

"Would Bakugo being my soulmate be a good enough reason to believe me?"

"What are you talking about?" Uraraka furrows her brows in confusion. Honestly, everyone looks rather confused.

"Do you remember what he said to me earlier?" You look between the three boys. They all nod, recalling their classmates rather foul language from a few minutes ago. "Those same words are below my left collarbone. You can see for yourself."

Now, you didn't really think that part through. You just offered to show your chest to a bunch of strangers which could be rather... intimate. They all look at each other, waiting for someone to offer to do it. Surprisingly, it's the frog girl who steps up.

She steps forward before crouching down in front of you, her hand reaching forward to pull the collar of your shirt down. Her eyes trace over the words on your chest as she reads them before turning to face the group. "It certainly seems like something Bakugo would say. There's plenty of curse words and mentioning of blowing their head off."

"That pretty much sums it up," Midoriya awkwardly chuckles as he remembers the aggressive threat. "I guess you really weren't lying then."

"Great, so now that that's settled can you please let me go so we can save him?"

Todoroki melts the ice around your wrists before you all climb onto Shoji, grasping onto him tightly as Uraraka uses her quirk on everyone. Moments later Tsu's tongue wraps around you all and you're all flying through the air towards Compress who surprisingly wasn't that far away yet.

The second you all collide with him, Uraraka releases her quirk which sends you all plummeting towards the earth. You active your quirk, using the gravity to slow down just enough to lesson the impact. The celebration is cut short as the villain uses his quirk on himself, turning into a small marble just in time for blue flames to shoot out towards you.

You rise to your feet as you come face to face with some of the other League members- Dabi, Twice and Toga. The blonde girl cheers once she sees you, instantly skipping towards you to drag you towards the others. You let her, deciding to keep it cool for now. If they know you're no longer on their side things could go very bad very fast.

Everyone starts fighting, Twice going for Todoroki with his measuring tape while Toga goes for Midoriya. The battle only lasts for a few short minutes before Shoji speaks up, announcing that they'll be leaving. He reveals two marbles in his hand which makes the others sigh in relief. You, on the other hand, know better than that. Even in the short amount of time you've known them you know that Compress likes his tricks.

And you're proven correct as he moves his mask to reveal the real marbles resting upon his tongue while the other ones shatter to show nothing but ice. Kurogiri opens his portals then which you hesitantly make your way towards. You stand next to the magician, looking out at the devastated students.

Suddenly, a bright laser shoots out and hits Compress directly in the face causing him to spit out the marbles. You shoot forward, making it look like you're reaching to grab them but you 'accidentally' smack one of them sending it towards the others. Shoji manages to grab the one you hit while Dabi grabs the other.

"Release them," Dabi demands, wanting to make sure he grabbed the correct one. Soon enough Bakugo is standing next to you with Dabi's hand around the back of his neck.

Midoriya screams out as he runs after him, only to collapse when he shakes his head. They all step through the portal while you remain for a moment longer to tell the sobbing boy one thing before going through yourself.

"I'll protect him."

[numberonetacostan]

I know your trophy knowledge might not be too sharp but I do wonder if you have any specific thoughts or even headcanons about him ! ❤️

Hi Mirelly!!^^ Welcome back, and thank you for sending in your request!! :] Of course I can cook you up some headcanons for your guy! I like to think I have at least an okay grasp on all of the main ii cast members' characters [Contestants + Mephone4 + Assistants + Cobs] :) I may not know the common headcanons for them, though, so please forgive me if any of these end up being basic!

Ask and you shall receive, Trophy headcanons!

FINALLY I'VE HAD HIS ONE FOR AGES AND NEVER HAD A TIME TO SHARE IT. Are you familiar with the movie Ratatouille? How the little rat fellow sits on the man's head and pilots him around? I like to think that Blueberry does the exact same thing with Trophy. He cozies himself up in Trophy's head (where we have been told during some stream, I don't recall which nor who said it unfortunately, that he fits perfectly inside), and grabs on to his handles, and steers Trophy towards wherever he wants to go. It's not quite as graceful as in the movie, since Trophy is not a willing participant in this, but I'd imagine it being quite difficult for him to get anything out of his head, much less an object who very much does not want to leave.

Hmm, fuck it, Trophy is one of those people who adds a ton of dryer sheets to his laundry. A ton. I'd say a scent like sandalwood specifically, something generally seen as more masculine. So, since his clothing all smells strongly of sandalwood, so does he, all the time. So much so that it can trigger Tissues' allergies, on worse days. This may even start because in the beginning he, like a proper jock with not quite enough self awareness (he would be 0 months old so cant expect much), uses exorbitant amounts of axe body spray, and smells awful all the time. If you'd like, Paper telling him his body spray is a bit too strong could be what starts his shift to many many dryer sheets and 0 body spray. Others have told him before, he just didn't care coming from them.

Let's all hope that Trophy never ever sees nor even hears about the popularity poll that decided on the iii returning cast members, because he would be pissed. Only 250 votes? He got less votes than Box? Less votes than two objects who had intentionally quit the game? He would both complain about the votes being rigged and brag about being above anyone he beat, while internally feeling quite bad about it.

I think Trophy would watch anime. Particularly sports anime, and not because he's a trophy and is athletic, but because that's where his idols are. His influences. He wants to be cool and sporty and masculine, and you can find guys like that in pretty much every sports anime. That's why he pulls things like saying 'pUH' at Knife, he's learned from dubbed anime. This may or may not have been an important factor in the start of his homoerotic tendencies as well, since as far as I know sports animes also have a lot of that.

I'm sure it's a relatively common headcanon for his favourite flavour to be banana, but I would like to raise the idea of him fucking so hard with banana bread. He's a little loaf eating freak /ref. If anyone bakes banana bread it's gone within a half hour. He does not ask to have any or to eat it he just unhinges his jaw and swallows it whole. His favourite food. He'd probably end up learning to bake it on his own (likely in secret) so he can be a little loaf eating freak more frequently, since others would stop making it once they resign themselves to never getting to taste it.

[alicelillianshaw]

Her throat still feels very tight— Alice doesn't dare raise the wineglass to her lips, not now, because there's no way she'd be able to swallow anything anyway.

All she can think about is how her words had felt tangible in Jack's chest.

The comments she'd made about his eyes, the descriptors she'd plucked out of her consciousness, shaded every color blue— they'd felt real to him. They weren't a canvas, or a lump of clay, but Jack could still feel them.

So better not to try drinking.

Alice especially can't the longer she looks at Jack's face.

It's not a look of defeat, not that, but there's some complicated and sad and Alice thinks about reaching over the table and gripping his wrist once more as if it could somehow erase the expression from his face.

But what could Alice do to change his circumstances? How did Alice dissolve congressional investigations? How would Alice dissolve nation scrutiny?

'I’ve made a lot of mistakes,'

'There’s other stuff. I don’t know.'

Alice's features pinch together.

Other stuff.

It was vague, yeah— and Alice didn't want to project, paint Jack with the same brush she used on herself, but she thinks back to college, her time after it.

Vodka, she'd store in plastic water bottles by her bedside. Other liquor, in her bright blue Klean Kanteen, draining half of it in the middle of her physics lecture until the florescent lights above were spinning. Alice would drink on nights out until her friend's begged her to stop, and she'd show up to events and hangouts drunk, hiding it to the best of her ability, knowing they'd be mad, gargling mouthwash in the bathroom to mask the scent.

It made her feel grimy, the deception.

And that was just some of it. That was just one layer in the ugly mess of Alice's mistakes.

She wants to tell Jack that her 'other stuff' was ugly, and she didn't want him believing his, whatever it was, was any worse.

There's a line between her brows, and Alice does her best to relax it away.

'I’ve made a lot of mistakes,'

So had she. Whatever Jack had done— and Alice wasn't sure— she knew it wasn't deserving of his life to be picked apart to cruelly before it shattered.

"Me too," she says, lips pursing, finger rubbing against the arm of the chair idly as her eyes flit down.

"Nasty ones that I hate. And I know a lot of other people have too. And— I don't know. I think it's a part of living."

Her mouth lifts a little sadly. "What you're dealing with right now I know is ... unique, because of your career. It's crazy. But I'm sure your mistakes aren't. And I already know whatever it is you're thinking about ... it definitely doesn't make you uniquely terrible. Or terrible at all."

Alice looks back at Jack, something burning inside her chest.

"I actually really enjoy you as a person, and it's only been two days."

And she did. Jack's eyes, and all the shades of blue they embodied from all over the globe. Jack's mouth, which was always animated and moving. Jack's words, the wit that came from him, exclamations and questions that always left Alice guessing what he'd say next. Just all of Jack. All quicksilver and kinetic.

Jack says, without much conviction that things will work out— things will settle the way they're supposed to.

'You’re really nice though. To say all of that stuff. Thank you.'

It was the truth, though, and Jack owed her no thanks.

Alice returns his smile, soft, watching the wine pour into his glass like very pale gold.

"It's all very true."

It was her turn to share again.

Alice presses her fingers hard against the stem of her glass, pinching as if the force of it would help focus her scattered mind and heart.

What to share?

Nothing too ... dreary. No. Alice would like to widen his smile.

"My parents were wonderful, but they made me do choir and I've never forgiven them for it."

Her lips twitch.

"Our teacher was big into really old music— some students called it sad pioneer music? Which I don't think even accurately describes the time period, but." Alice snorts. "I actually loved standing there and listening to the instruments. Hearing a bunch of voices sing as one always sounded kind of powerful to me."

Jack hoped that Alice understood how sincere his statement had been. He hadn’t described it very well either, but … Jack remembered feeling in awe of Alice, wishing that he could write something half as good as the things she said. He watched as Alice gripped the chair, wondering what exactly she was thinking, wishing he could live inside of her brain in that moment.

There was something in her eyes. Emotion. Jack swallowed. Something told him that she understood, and that she’d taken his words to heart. She thanked him, and Jack shook his head. She never had to thank him.

He was just telling the truth.

Jack watched as Alice processed through his own admission. His heart was racing because he hadn’t said those words out loud, to anyone, and he’d just offered them up to a stranger. He trusted Alice not to use it against him, not to mention it in the article.

Maybe he was naive.

"Yeah, but you're not going to."

A very strong emotion stirred in his chest. Jack winced, looked away, at the pool. It still shimmered even in the near-dark.

She’d said it so confidently, without thinking, that it really took Jack by surprise. Made him emotional, in a funny way because — well. When was the last time anyone had that sort of blind confidence in him? When was the last time someone hadn’t felt so disappointed in him? Maybe when he was running for office, making all these promises to his supporters that he’d really intended to keep. But life. It got messy and complicated and Jack had let them all down.

There was something in her eyes then, too. Empathy, he thought. Like she was hurting just because he was. She reached forward, wrapping her fingers around his wrist, and Jack wished they weren’t so far away again. She squeezed before letting go. Jack sighed, stared at his wrist a little sadly.

"I know you're waiting for the other shoe to drop, and I know this is getting dragged out in the most torturous way... but you're not."

Alice went on to talk about all of the other horrible people in the country. Crooked politicians with corrupt morals. He’d heard stories, prayed that he didn’t end up like them. She seemed so sure that Jack wasn’t like them, but … she didn’t really know him, did she?

There were still things that Alice didn’t know about Jack. Things that, miraculously, hadn’t made their way into the press. Yet. Shameful, hurtful things that he’d done. Things that … he’d probably do again, given the chance, even if he wouldn’t admit that to himself. Even if he swore that he didn’t have a problem. Even if he pretended not to panic when he misplaced his oxycodone.

There was a time that Jack had dropped the very last pill that he had, lost somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. He’d spent forty five minutes tearing the room apart, moving furniture and lifting mattresses, until he found it, rolled beneath his nightstand. At least he'd wiped it off before popping the pill into his mouth.

He laid on his bedroom floor until the high kicked in. And when it did — he swore he’d never felt anything as good.

Would she feel the same about him if she knew that?

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” he told Alice. “There’s other stuff. I don’t know.”

Jack paused.

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes,” he repeated, a little more solemnly this time. Jack supposed it was time to face the music. Karmically, he deserved everything that was happening to him, besides Alice.

That was one thing he hadn’t deserved.

Jack leaned forward again, elbows on the table. He sighed, pressing the palms of his head into his eyelids.

He didn’t want to ruin this night. He wasn’t going to. Not when she looked like that.

“It’ll be okay, though,” he finally said, even if he didn’t sound too convinced. “It’ll work out the way it’s supposed to.”

Jack finally looked across to Alice, smiling gently.

“You’re really nice though. To say all of that stuff. Thank you.”

Jack drank the last of his wine, eyed the bottle. Another glass wouldn’t hurt. He filled his glass, looked to Alice.

“More?” He asked. “And it’s your turn. To share anything. Everything,” he clarified.

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all! It's winter again which means my annual search for lotion I am not allergic to is back on (aka my hands are dry and I want to find better lotion lol) Currently, I use Aveeno, the one with oats I can never remember the name of. I am not allergic to it but it's not super effective for me, so I'm once again looking for a different lotion option - I am allergic to coconut, macadamia nut, almond, and cinnamon (and vinegar but I doubt that would be in lotion) - I am not allergic to but my asthma is triggered by mint, any menthol-adjacent anything, cedar, sandalwood...basically any "wood" smells or fake musk smells, and most essential oils. Also fake "sweet" smells - I can usually handle citrus scents better than other scents in things like lotions and soaps without wheezing, but any strong enough scent can be an issue

If you happen to have a lotion, especially a hand lotion, that you think would work for me please let me know! I know it's a long shot but I thought it was worth asking

[imwritesometimes]

I fuckin hate downy for making their only widely available 'lavender' fabric softener 'lavender and vanilla bean'. artificial vanilla scents are one of my biggest migraine triggers but lavender is my favorite scent I fucking hate them for this

[thefinalaeon]

They should invent supplements that don't smell like ass in a bottle

[fallingbyjuleecruise]

trying to finally be a fragrance girlie (gn) but why is it so expensive 😭😭😭😭

[icejello]

Me: (posts video of my adoptive mom's cat into the family group chat) good night

My mom: "a cat is angry"

[killerplink]

INFECTED

Pairing: Dick Grayson x Female Reader x Jason Todd

Plot: What was supposed to be a simple mission to stop Ivy takes an unexpected turn when her latest scheme leaves you, Jason, and Dick trapped, and at the mercy of some very potent pollen. With your minds hazy and bodies burning, boundaries blur, and well... things escalate fast.

CW: sex pollen, mutual pining, explicit sexual content, threesome, oral sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, praise, cum swallowing, double penetration, creampie, slight pain/pleasure mix, lots of cum, soft aftercare, and overall just filthy degeneracy.

A/N: I don't know if this is what y'all had in mind with this sex pollen fic, but as you might've noticed, I'm a yapper. I don't do 'let's fuck and leave' type of shit. No, we're diving deep into the filth and the feelings. So yeah... this turned out way longer than expected, but your girl loves details 😭

The warehouse stinks of damp wood and fertilizer, the air thick with the scent of Ivy's latest eco terrorist bullshit. You, Jason, and Dick move quickly through the dimly lit space, scanning for the so called "pollen bombs" that intel suggested she was planting all over Gotham.

"God, it reeks in here," Jason grumbles, wrinkling his nose behind his helmet. "What the hell is she even tryin' to do? Make the city smell like a goddamn greenhouse?"

"Could be worse," Dick muses, flipping acrobatically over a crate before kneeling beside a sleek metal canister. "Could smell like Killer Croc's lair."

Jason makes a gagging noise, and you fight back a laugh as you crouch beside them, eyeing the canister. It looks pretty standard—small, about the size of a fire extinguisher, a simple pressurized trigger system on top.

"Think this is one of them?" you ask.

"Either that or the world's most industrial lookin' Febreze bottle," Jason mutters.

Dick scoffs, running his gloved fingers along the side of the canister. "Ivy's getting sloppy. This is—"

PFFT.

The release is instant. The three of you barely have time to react before a thick, pale green vapor hisses from the canister, spreading out around you in a slow, curling cloud.

"Shit," Jason curses, jerking back, but it's already too late.

Instinctively, he pulls you with him, yanking you closer to his chest as if that could shield you from whatever the hell is happening. His arm wraps tight around you, his body stiffening as the vapor swirls around all three of you.

The gas spreads, clinging to your clothes, sneaking past your masks. You inhale before you can stop yourself, and—

"Wait," you murmur. "Why does it... smell good?"

Jason and Dick freeze, both of them taking tentative sniffs. The air is thick with something warm and sweet—notes of honey and spice, deep and rich like fresh blooms in the summer sun. It's nice. So nice, in fact, that for a second, the three of you just... stare at each other, confused.

Jason exhales sharply, waving a hand in front of his face. "Okay. What the fuck?"

Dick coughs, looking around at the dissipating mist. "Maybe it's, uh... a trap? Some kind of knockout gas?"

"We'd be on the floor by now, Grayson," you point out.

There's a beat of silence. The three of you just stand there, letting the last wisps of the pollen drift away, waiting for some kind of reaction—dizziness, nausea, anything.

But nothing happens.

Jason huffs. "So lemme get this straight. Ivy had all these bombs set up, and instead of droppin' us where we stand, it just..." he gestures vaguely, "Makes Gotham smell better?"

The absurdity of it hits you all at once. A soft giggle bubbles up in your throat, and then another, until you're actually laughing, shaking your head.

"Damn," you say, breathless. "Deadliest eco terrorist in Gotham, and she really just gave us a perfume sample."

Jason snorts. "The horror."

Dick rolls his eyes, standing up and dusting himself off. "Okay, well, if this was supposed to be some big master plan, I think we can call it a bust. Let's get back to the cave and let Bats know."

Jason claps a hand on your back, steering you toward the exit. "Yeah, yeah, before Ivy shows up and actually does somethin' dangerous."

None of you notice it yet. The subtle heat creeping into your limbs, the faint buzz just beneath your skin. By the time you're in the Batmobile, it's in you.

The car hums beneath you, the quiet rumble of the engine filling the space as Gotham blurs past the tinted windows. Jason's driving, one hand gripping the gear shift, the other draped lazily over the wheel. Dick's in the passenger seat, his mask still on, head tilted slightly like he's lost in thought.

And you? You're burning up, but not in a sick way. Not in an oh God, something's wrong way. It's just... heat. Low and thick, curling beneath your skin, settling deep between your thighs in a way that has you shifting uncomfortably in your seat. You tug at your collar, brows furrowing, but it doesn't help. Nothing does.

It's all there, wrong but right at the same time, pooling in the pit of your stomach, thrumming between your legs. Your thighs press together, the friction sending a sharp little spark up your spine.

You swallow hard, forcing yourself to stare out the window, pretending like you're not embarrassingly close to squirming in the backseat of the goddamn Batmobile like some desperate, needy mess.

Maybe it's just—God, maybe it's just them. Jason and Dick, sitting up front, broad shoulders filling out their suits, muscles flexing with every shift of the steering wheel, every casual movement.

That's it, you tell yourself. That has to be it.

This is just because you've been down bad lately, right? Because let's be honest, you've spent way too many nights with your hand or your toys between your thighs, gasping their names into your pillow. It's ridiculous how often it happens, how they've completely hijacked your brain.

Jason, with his sharp mouth, broad chest, big hands. That stupid smirk that makes your stomach flip. His voice, rough and lazy when he calls you "doll" like it's the easiest thing in the world.

And then there's Dick. All smooth charm and soft lips, stupidly pretty even when he's bleeding, the kind of guy who can talk anyone into anything. That boyish grin, those ridiculous acrobat's hips. The way he looks at you sometimes, all teasing and playful but just sharp enough to make you wonder.

Truth be told, you're painfully under fucked. Gotham's dating scene is trash, and while you could technically take the edge off yourself, your current stash of sex toys is... underperforming. No matter what setting, what angle, it's just not enough. Not enough pressure, not enough stretch, not enough them.

Because the worst part? The part that keeps you up at night, panting into your pillow, legs shaking from overstimulation?

You don't think about some faceless, nameless fantasy. You think about them.

Jason, his big hands pinning your wrists down, his voice rough against your ear as he stretches you open. Dick, slick with sweat, his mouth everywhere, moaning into your skin as he fucks you deep.

Sometimes—fuck—sometimes, it's both. One of them eating you out while the other fucks your mouth, one stuffing you full while the other whispers the filthiest things in your ear.

Your fingers have been the next best thing, but they always leave you wanting. And now, sitting here, feeling hotter by the second, it's all rushing back—every desperate, aching thought.

No. You shake your head, pressing a hand to your cheek. Get a grip. You are not about to get horny in the goddamn Batmobile. Except... you already are. And you're not the only one.

Up front, Dick shifts in his seat, biting the inside of his cheek, his fingers curled into fists on his thighs. His suit is... well, not built for this. The material is thick, durable, but not forgiving. His cock is already half hard, twitching every time the car hits a bump in the road, the sensation sparking something hot and needy down his spine.

His jaw tightens. His thoughts have already turned against him, flashing back to every moment he's ever had to force himself not to look at you, not to stare too long at the way your suit hugs your curves, not to think about how sweet you probably sound when you moan.

But now? Now it's like those thoughts are pumping through his veins. He shifts again, pulling his hand over his lap, casually resting his elbow on the car door, tilting his head like he's just relaxing. But his fingers curl into his thigh, his cock throbbing against the fabric, and shit, he can't stop thinking about you.

He clenches his jaw. This is fine. He can just breathe through it, ignore it. Right?

Because it doesn't make sense. One second, he's fine, the next, his skin is tight, his pulse is loud, his body thrumming like it's been wired wrong. His mind flashes back to the warehouse, to the smoke. Shit. Okay. Okay, this is fine. Except it's not fine because he chances a glance in the rearview mirror.

And that is a mistake. Because there you are, brows furrowed, teeth sinking into your lip, looking so warm and soft and pretty.

He forces his gaze forward, but his dick throbs insistently against the fabric of his suit, demanding attention, aching in a way that has him pressing his thighs together and shifting in his seat, trying to be subtle about it.

But Jason notices, because of course he does. His grip tightens on the steering wheel, fingers flexing as he watches Dick shift uncomfortably in his seat. The way his chest rises and falls a little too fast. The way he adjusts himself as subtly as he can.

Jason grits his teeth. Goddammit. This is already bad enough. He's used to getting hard, and that's not really news, considering he's around you.

It's embarrassing at this point. He's used to this constant, low level problem whenever you're near. The way his body responds to you like some fucking reflex. A glance, a laugh, a casual touch, and suddenly, he's half hard in his jeans like a goddamn teenager.

But this? This is different. This is fucking brutal. The heat is unbearable, his whole body buzzing with tension, his dick pressing uncomfortably against his pants. And fine, maybe he shouldn't be thinking about you right now, but his brain isn't listening.

It's giving him vivid fucking images—your lips wrapped around his cock, your pussy stretched around his fingers, the little gasps you'd make if he spread you open, if he fucked you just right. He exhales through his nose, gripping the steering wheel tighter, focusing on the road. Not now. Not fucking now.

And then there's Dick. Sitting there. Shifting around. Acting all innocent, but Jason knows. He sees the way Dick's jaw is clenched, the way he's hiding behind his fucking hands, the way his shoulders keep tensing like he's fighting something off.

And that's a whole other problem. Because Jason does not get hard around Dick. But now? Now, his cock is aching, pressing insistently against the inside of his jeans, and it's fucking weird because Dick is right there.

No way in hell he's acknowledging this. He focuses on the road, breathing in through his nose, willing the heat to settle, willing the blood to go anywhere but his dick. It doesn't work. His suit is hot, the collar too tight, his whole body buzzing with restless, frustrated energy.

His fingers flex against the wheel. "Goddamn it," he mutters under his breath.

Neither of you hear him, and that is concerning. And then, Jason chances a glance in the rearview mirror, and you're squirming.

Not a lot, but enough. Shifting in your seat, pressing your thighs together, lips parted ever so slightly, brows still drawn like you don't even realize you're doing it. He forces his eyes forward, gripping the wheel tight enough to hurt.

Oh, this is so fucked. And he knows—knows—it's about to get worse.

The second the Batmobile rolls into the cave, you're out.

"Okay—" you blurt, voice higher than usual. "I think I'm gonna take a shower."

You don't even wait for their answers before you're practically sprinting toward the locker room.

Jason clears his throat. "I think there was somethin' in that fuckin' smoke bomb."

"Yep," Dick says, shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking like he wants to say more but physically cannot.

Jason glances away, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "Y'know what, maybe she's right. A shower wouldn't hurt. Maybe wash these clothes, too, given whatever the fuck was in that shit is on us."

"Yep," Dick repeats, and then, without another word, both of them hurry toward the showers.

The locker room is sleek—clean lines, dark tiles, recessed lighting that casts a soft glow instead of that harsh, clinical brightness most locker rooms have. It's modern but comfortable, not cold or uninviting, just functional.

The walls are lined with neatly organized gear, each section personalized to its owner, creating a sense of quiet efficiency. Even the air has a faint hint of something metallic, like fresh tech waiting to be put to use. It's a space that serves its purpose, but it also feels like it's built for those who belong, making it almost... homey in its own way.

The showers are set up in a row, each with tinted glass dividers that fog up easily with the heat—not fully clear, but not enough to hide everything, either. No doors, no curtains, just a spacious, open layout that suddenly feels like the worst possible decision Bruce could've made.

Not that you're thinking about that. Nope. You're focused on the water cascading over your skin, the steam curling around you, the way your body still burns in a way that has nothing to do with the hot spray.

And okay, fine. You might be a little slow on the uptake, but even you have to admit now that this? This is not normal. You've never felt this desperate before. Not even after a dry spell, not even after the nights you spent aching between your sheets, body wired with need that just wouldn't settle. This is different. Worse.

You exhale sharply, pressing your palms against the cool tile as the water rushes down your back. Okay. Deep breaths. Just... get through this. It'll wear off.

But then you fucking hear it. Jason's low muttering as he steps under the spray, the deep groan he lets out when the hot water crashes over him. Dick exhaling hard, shifting around, the slap of water against skin as he pushes his hair back. And now, somehow, this is fucking worse.

Because your brain? Yeah, it's not helping.

It's giving you images. Images of Jason, big and broad and dripping, water sliding down his chest, over those stupidly defined abs, down to his cock, hanging thick and heavy between his legs.

And Dick, all lean muscle and smooth skin, his own cock probably flushed and aching, his face tipped back under the spray as he runs a hand over his body, slicking up every inch of himself.

You squeeze your eyes shut. No. Nope. Not doing this. Not right now.

But the heat between your legs is unbearable. Your fingers twitch at your sides, your clit throbbing, aching for relief, and fuck it, you slip your hand between your thighs.

Your breath stutters, thighs trembling as you press your fingers against your puffy, soaked clit, rubbing tight, desperate circles. And God, you're so fucking wet. Soaked. You can feel it, slicker than you've ever been, dripping down your thighs, mixing with the hot water as you rub yourself with quick, jerky movements.

This should do. Probably. Hopefully.

You bite your lip, forcing your moans down, listening, but the water covers any sound, the steady rush of the showers masking the way you whimper when your fingers slide lower, teasing at your entrance, dipping inside just enough to send a shudder up your spine.

This is fine. They can't hear you. They don't know. Right?

Dick exhales sharply, bracing one hand against the tile as the hot water rushes over him. His body is wired, his skin flushed, his cock still painfully, achingly hard even after scrubbing himself down, after doing everything in his power to focus on literally anything else.

But it's not working. It's. Not. Fucking. Working.

His jaw clenches as he glances down, swallowing hard at the sight of his cock—thick and heavy, desperate, the tip drooling precum as it twitches in the air. Okay, he can fix this.

It's just... the pollen. That's what this is. Not him, not you.

It's just a chemical reaction, and the fastest way to get this out of his system is to handle it. Quickly. Before it gets worse.

So he wraps his fingers around himself and gives a slow, experimental stroke. The relief is instant.

A shudder rolls down his spine as his breath hitches, his hand tightening just slightly as he jerks himself once, twice, watching the way his cock twitches, the way another thick bead of precum leaks from the tip, slicking up his palm.

Fuck, this is bad. Because now, now that he's touching himself, now that he's letting himself feel it—you're there. Well, not right next to him. Not really.

But in his head? You're everywhere. Your mouth on his, warm and desperate, your hands roaming down his chest, slipping lower, wrapping around his cock, pumping him with slow, teasing strokes.

Your breath, hot against his ear as you whisper his name, your tits pressed against him, soft and warm, your nipples dragging over his wet skin as you shift in his lap, grinding against his cock, your pussy so wet he can feel it even through the heat of the shower. His pace stutters, his breath turning ragged as his hips rock forward, fucking into his fist like a desperate, needy idiot.

Because fuck, he is needy. And the worst part? You're. Right. There.

A few feet away, just behind that glass divider, water rushing over your body, slicking up every inch of your skin, dripping down your tits, your stomach, your thighs.

And he wants you. Has for a long time.

But now? Now, it's not just want. It's need, and it's fucking unbearable. His hand moves faster, breath catching as his muscles tense, his balls pulling tight, his whole body thrumming with the need to cum.

Because he just needs to cum, and then this will be over. Right?

Jason has the exact same fucking thought.

Because his dick? Yeah, it's not going down. Not even slightly. His head tips back against the tile, a slow, heavy breath hissing through his teeth as he fists his cock, thick fingers wrapping tight around the swollen length. He's had plenty of inconvenient boners before.

That's just part of the package when he's got you in his life—skintight suits, little smirks, the way you fight like you own the city, like no one can touch you.

Yeah, he's used to being hard when you're around. But this? This is fucking ridiculous.

His whole body feels wired, too hot, like there's an electric current running under his skin. His dick hurts, heavy and flushed, leaking against his knuckles as he starts to stroke himself, slow and firm, the pressure making his breath hitch. This should help. This has to help.

He forces himself to think about other things—literally anything else—but his brain? Yeah, his brain is not cooperating.

Because all he can see is you. Your body under the spray, your tits glistening with water, your ass round and perfect, your thighs slick and parted just enough for him to see the way your pussy clenches, desperate and aching.

And fuck, you're right there. Right. Fucking. There.

So close he could just step over, press himself against your back, run his hands down your body, feel the way your slick little pussy drips against his fingers.

Fuck. His strokes get faster, hips bucking up into his own grip, stomach tightening as he groans under his breath, low and rough, trying to chase that sharp, bright edge of relief.

Because yeah, if he just gets this out of his system, if he just cums, then maybe he won't be thinking about how he wants to bury his cock inside you so fucking bad he's starting to lose his mind.

You rub your clit in tight little circles, slick and needy, but it's not enough. The ache between your thighs burns hotter with every second, but you can't tip over the edge. Not like this.

Not with Jason and Dick right there, close enough that your mind keeps conjuring them instead of whatever weak fantasy you were trying to focus on. You bite your lip, hips shifting slightly as your fingers work faster, but it's no use, because all you can think about is how good their hands would feel instead.

Jason's fingers, thick and rough, stretching you open. Dick's tongue, wet and eager, lapping at you until you're a trembling mess. Fuck. You let out a shaky breath and force yourself to stop, frustrated beyond belief, body pulsing with need that refuses to be satisfied.

Meanwhile, Jason is in his own personal nightmare. Fisting his cock was supposed to help. He thought if he just got off, the unbearable need would settle. But no, he's still rock hard, twitching in his grip, and he's gritting his teeth so hard it's a miracle his jaw hasn't snapped.

It's worse because you're right there. He knows you're showering only a few feet away, completely naked, slick water running down that perfect fucking body of yours, and it's driving him insane. His strokes slow, and he tips his head back against the tiled wall, a groan tearing from his throat before he can stop it.

And that's when Dick stiffens. Not just in the obvious way, though yeah, he's still rock hard, still throbbing, and still aching for more, even after cumming. His skin is flushed, chest rising and falling in deep, uneven breaths, and his cock hasn't softened at all. He's still leaking, still desperate, and it takes everything in him not to wrap his fingers around himself again and just keep going.

Then Jason groans again, and it clicks. Dick's movements still. His brows furrow slightly. And before he even thinks it through, his gaze shifts—just barely—toward Jason's stall.

Jason, who is definitely still jerking off. Heat rushes up Dick's spine, a mix of embarrassment and something else—something dangerous—curling deep in his gut. They're both fucked.

Jason must feel the stare, because his grip falters. He huffs a breath, tilting his head to the side just enough that their eyes meet through the fogged up glass, and... oh. Oh, fuck.

The realization is heavy between them, thick with unspoken tension. Dick's lips part slightly, his fingers twitching at his side, and Jason—still flushed, still panting—grits his teeth, dragging a hand down his face like this is somehow his fault.

"This shit is fucked," Jason mutters, voice rough and strained.

Dick sways awkwardly, still pulsing with unbearable heat, and nods. Jason swallows hard, and when his gaze flicks to Dick, he finds the same wide eyed, panting, wrecked expression staring back at him. They're both so far gone it's pathetic. And if they're this fucked, then you must be even worse.

And then? You step out of the stall.

Wrapped in nothing but a towel, beads of water dripping from your skin, steam curling around you like a fucking wet dream. And when you lift your gaze and see them, your breath catches.

Jason is still gripping his cock, hand frozen mid stroke, his whole body stiff. Dick is still hard, still flushed, his eyes wide and dark as he takes you in. The tension is suffocating.

You all know what's happening here at this point. You swallow hard, your body throbbing with heat, and realization slams into you: none of you are getting through this alone.

The silence is thick, the kind that clings, all steam and heat and unsaid words hanging heavy in the air. All three of you just stand there, dripping wet, but you're the only one still clinging to any semblance of modesty, wrapped in a towel that suddenly feels too tight, too hot against your skin.

Dick and Jason? They're just there. Naked.

And maybe you'd all just keep standing here, awkward and unbearably turned on, if Dick didn't clear his throat and break the silence.

"So, uhm..." His voice cracks a little, and he grimaces before trying again. "There was something in the—"

"I know," you cut him off, and your voice is not as steady as you'd like it to be.

Jason, ever the blunt one, just snorts. "Yeah, so jerkin' off isn't doing shit."

That gets a laugh out of you, sharp and a little breathless. "You don't say."

And you really shouldn't be looking. You shouldn't. But they're right there. And when you finally, really let yourself look, trailing your gaze over bare skin, all toned muscle and broad shoulders and glistening tattoos, your eyes flicker down to their laps.

Fuck.

Your eyes drop before you can stop yourself, trailing down to where they stand, cocks heavy and thick against their stomachs, hard and mouthwatering, flushed at the tip.

Jason's hands flex at his sides, itching to reach for you.

Dick sways forward slightly, like he's barely restraining himself, like he wants to drop to his knees right then and there. And you whimper. A soft, needy little sound you cannot take back, and it feels like the air gets sucked out of the room.

Jason notices first—of course he does, always the one to pick up on the filthiest shit—and his eyes darken as his fingers twitch like he's about to grab you.

"So," he starts, voice thick, rough, the kind that settles low in your gut. "Maybe we should, uh... try and help each other out?"

You snap your gaze up to his face so fast your neck nearly cracks, and when you glance at Dick, he's already looking at you.

There's no denying it. There never has been. The attraction between you three has always been there, simmering under the surface, never acted on, never spoken out loud. You've thought about it. Of course you have. Working alongside them, running into them on patrol, spending late nights at the manor or in Jason's safe house—how couldn't you?

You know they like you. They know you like them. But friendship has always come first.

You know you're all good; you get tested regularly, a necessity when you're constantly fighting Gotham's worst, and besides, you're on birth control. You could walk away, end this right here, but they're right there. Naked, wet, needy, dicks that have no business being that fucking big, let alone rock solid.

And you want them so bad. So you do the only thing that makes sense: you let the towel slip from your fingers and drop to the floor.

The second it hits the tiles, their eyes devour you. It starts at your face, flicking down over the curve of your neck, the soft swell of your tits, the dip of your waist, the plush of your thighs, until finally, finally, both of them are staring straight at your bare, aching pussy, slick already glistening between your thighs.

And they look wrecked just from seeing you. Jason's jaw clenches, a muscle jumping in his cheek, and Dick sways slightly on his feet, but neither of them speak, too caught up in the sight of you until Jason finally breaks the silence.

"Fuck," he rasps, voice rough and thick. "You're fuckin' gorgeous."

Your face burns hotter, if that's even possible, heat rushing to your cheeks as they reach out almost in sync, hands gripping the knobs on their respective showers, twisting the water off in one smooth motion before stepping out.

And shit, they're even bigger up close.

Not just big, but big. Tall, broad, all muscle, sleek and strong, shoulders wide, thighs thick, every part of them defined—from the solid lines of their chests to the way their abs flex as they move, glistening wet, drops of water trailing down their skin in slow, teasing paths.

But it's their dicks that have you aching, twitching hard, flushed, heavy, and when Dick's cock gives a sharp throb, you bite back a moan so desperate it nearly chokes you.

Jason steps in first, heat radiating off him as he cups your cheek with one big, calloused hand, tilting your head up, eyes dark and hungry as he leans in.

And then he's kissing you. Hard, deep, hungry. His lips move against yours, hot and insistent, tongue sliding into your mouth like he's been waiting for this, starving for it, and fuck, he kisses like he fights—possessive, dominant, all consuming.

His other hand doesn't hesitate, palms smoothing over your skin, rough fingers sliding straight down to your ass, grabbing a handful, squeezing tight, yanking you up flush against him until his cock presses firm against your belly.

You moan into his mouth, body shuddering as heat coils in your gut, hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into muscle, every inch of him burning against you.

Behind you, Dick curses under his breath, and you can feel the heat of his stare, feel the way his breath comes out sharp, ragged, as he watches Jason kiss you like he owns you.

Dick steps up behind you, heat radiating off his body, slick skin pressing against your back, and you melt between them. Sandwiched, trapped, caught between two broad, solid bodies, both of them flushed and aching, cocks hard and hot against your skin. Jason groans when your tits press into his chest, and then Dick—fucking Dick—lets out the softest, neediest little exhale against your ear as his hands slide up your sides.

His fingers trace over your ribs, then higher, cupping your tits, thumbs rolling over your nipples, teasing, stroking, making you gasp as Jason leans in and kisses you again.

It's not like before. This kiss is slower, deeper, Jason taking his time to drink you in. His tongue licks into your mouth, lazy, hungry, and his hands roam, one gripping the back of your neck while the other settles on your waist, fingers flexing like he can't decide whether he wants to pull you closer or just hold you there and enjoy every shaky breath you make.

Behind you, Dick's mouth is everywhere—pressing open mouthed kisses to your shoulder, up your throat, teasing your ear as his hand dips lower. Fingertips ghosting down, past your belly, until they finally find your puffy, swollen clit.

You twitch at the contact, a sharp little gasp escaping against Jason's lips, and Dick groans, louder this time, pressing a little firmer, rubbing teasing little circles as he mutters, "You're so fucking wet."

Jason pulls back just enough to watch your face, brushing his thumb over your kiss swollen lips.

His voice is strained, rough as he asks, "You okay with this? With whatever's about to happen?"

His eyes are dark, intense, filled with want but laced with concern, because they need this, need you, but not like this, not unless you want it just as badly. You nod quickly, already breathless, but Dick? Dick's not having it.

He dips his head lower, mouth brushing right against your ear as he whispers, "Use your words, love. We don't wanna push you into anything."

It's almost cruel, the way his fingers slow down, teasing, playing, rubbing lazy, barely there strokes over your clit when all you want is more.

"Yes," you gasp, pushing into his touch. "Please."

That's all it takes. Jason and Dick lock eyes, silent for a moment, and then? Dick nods once, sharp, decisive, and says, "Sauna. Now."

Jason groans. "Jesus fuck, Dickie-bird."

But he doesn't argue. He just watches as Dick takes your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, guiding you toward the sauna with Jason trailing behind, adjusting the settings so it's warm, comfortable—not stifling, just enough to chase away the cold still clinging to your damp skin.

And the sauna? Yeah, of course it's luxurious as hell. Bruce built it, after all. The benches are smooth, made from high quality wood, wide enough to lie down comfortably, and the warm lighting overhead makes everything feel softer, deeper. It's the kind of place you usually use when you're sore and beaten up after patrols, when you need to relax and let the heat soothe your body.

But tonight? Yeah, you're about to use it for something very different.

Before you can even process what's happening, Jason spins you around, hands everywhere, and lifts you up like you weigh nothing.

You yelp, legs spreading instinctively as he hooks his arms beneath your thighs, locking you open, exposing you, presenting you, and Dick fucking drops to his knees.

"Oh, fuck," he breathes, eyes locked on your dripping pussy, hands already reaching, fingers brushing your inner thighs as his mouth parts in awe. "Look at you."

Jason groans behind you, rolling his hips up just enough to grind his cock against your ass, kissing the side of your head, whispering, "You should see what you do to him, baby. He's fuckin' mesmerized."

And Dick? He kind of is. His chest rises and falls in shallow, desperate breaths as he stares, like he's starving, like he can't decide if he wants to taste you or just kneel there and worship.

Dick's hands grip your thighs, fingers pressing firm, grounding himself as he leans in, eyes fixed on your swollen, dripping pussy. His breath stutters out, warm against your slick skin, and he groans, low and wrecked, because fuck, this is so much better than he ever imagined.

And he has imagined it. More times than he'd ever admit. Nights spent fisting his cock to the thought of you, to the way your suit hugs your curves, to the way you smell when you're close, the teasing, flirty little smiles you send his way. He'd always wondered if you'd taste as good as you look.

"Fuck," he breathes, his voice shaky.

With two fingers, he spreads you open, watching your slick drip, glistening in the dim heat of the sauna, and his tongue flicks out, hungry, catching a taste before he can stop himself.

And it wrecks him. His mouth seals over your cunt, tongue pushing deep, groaning as he devours you, hot and wet, lapping up every drop like he's been starving for it. His hands tighten on your thighs, holding you steady as he buries himself between your legs, tongue stroking, circling, pushing in deep before dragging back out, flicking against your clit in slow, teasing swipes.

And the sounds you make? Insane.

Breathless, needy, these little gasps and whimpers that make Jason groan behind you, arms flexing as he adjusts his grip, holding you up like you weigh nothing. Solid and so hot against your back, his cock pressing thick against your ass, twitching every time you moan.

"Fuck, Grayson," Jason mutters, voice strained. "She's gonna lose it."

And you are.

Because fuck, Dick knows how to eat pussy. He's skilled, dedicated, every lick and suck sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He moans into you, the vibrations making you shudder, thighs trying to squeeze together, but Jason's grip doesn't let you move.

"Feels good, huh, baby?" Jason murmurs, lips brushing against your ear, his tone all smug and filthy, like he's enjoying this just as much as Dick is.

You can't even speak. Your fingers tangle in Dick's damp hair, clutching hard, back arching against Jason's chest as Dick flicks his tongue against your clit in quick, teasing strokes, like he knows exactly how to unravel you.

Jason groans behind you, his arms tightening around your legs. When your head falls against his shoulder and your eyes meet his, he kisses you.

Hard, deep, like he's claiming you, like he needs you just as much as Dick does. His tongue licks into your mouth, swallowing your moans, his hands gripping your thighs tighter, bruising.

You whimper against his lips, and he groans, rolling his hips against your ass, grinding his cock against you, needing friction, needing something, because fuck, this is too much.

And Dick? He just moans against your pussy, tongue fucking into you, making you shudder so hard Jason has to tighten his grip just to keep you steady.

"So fucking good," Dick mutters, pulling back just enough to flick his tongue over your clit before sucking it into his mouth, making you sob his name. "So sweet. Fuck, I could eat you for hours."

Jason breaks the kiss just to groan, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. "Christ, Dickie, you're gonna kill her."

Dick grins against your skin, licking another slow, teasing stripe up your pussy, savoring the way you twitch, the way your fingers tighten in his hair, the way your little gasps turn into full whimpers, desperate and broken.

His fingers ghost over your entrance, teasing, barely there, making your pussy clench on nothing. You squirm in Jason's hold, breath hitching as anticipation coils tight in your stomach, but Dick takes his time. Watches the way you drip for him, spread open and helpless, Jason's arms locked under your thighs to keep you wide and vulnerable.

"Fuck," Dick rasps, his voice thick with arousal, his breath hot against your pussy. "You're soaked."

His thumbs part your folds, and he groans at the sight—slick, glistening, so fucking pretty. His tongue flicks over your clit again, and your whole body jerks, a whimper spilling from your lips.

Jason tightens his grip, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, his cock twitching against you as he murmurs, "Easy, baby. Let him take care of you."

And fuck, Dick does take care of you. His mouth works you over, tongue lapping at your swollen clit, lips wrapping around it to suck, firm and slow, drawing needy little noises from your throat. His hands grip your thighs, holding you steady, keeping you from writhing too much even though all you want to do is grind against his face, chase the pleasure that's building fast.

Then his fingers press at your entrance again, just the tips, teasing, and you moan, the need to be filled overwhelming. He chuckles against you, the vibration sending another pulse of heat through your core before he finally pushes a finger inside.

It's so much thicker than yours, so much longer, stretching you just enough to make your walls flutter around it. He eases it in, lets you adjust, then curls it up, searching, until—

"Fuck—" you gasp, back arching as he finds that spot, rubbing against it before sliding another finger in beside the first.

The stretch burns just a little, but the way he moves them—God, the way they scissor inside you, slick and warm, thrusting deep—has your mind blanking.

"Feel good, sweetheart?" Jason murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw, hands adjusting their grip on your thighs as he holds you steady.

You nod frantically, but it's not enough. Not when you feel like you're unraveling from just this. "More," you breathe. "Please."

Dick groans like the plea physically pains him, but he doesn't stop, doesn't hesitate. His fingers thrust deeper, faster, stretching you open as his lips wrap around your clit again, sucking just right, tongue flicking against the swollen bud.

Your thighs tremble, pleasure tightening, the slick sounds of his fingers fucking into you obscene, messy, wet. You're dripping, leaking down his hand, onto his wrist, but he doesn't care. His cock is throbbing, leaking against his stomach, but he doesn't fucking care.

All he wants is to make you cum on his tongue. And God, you're close. You can feel it winding tighter and tighter, pleasure curling deep, building fast. Your mind is spinning, flooded with heat and hunger, desperate to feel them everywhere. Their mouths, their hands, their dicks stretching you wide—

Fuck, you're gonna cum.

It hits you fast. A sharp, electric snap of pleasure, burning through every nerve, sending you spiraling. Your whole body locks up, and then, you're cumming, and it's so much. Your cunt tightens around Dick's fingers, pulsing, fluttering, sucking him deeper as wave after wave of heat crashes through you.

It's almost too much. Your thighs tremble, your back arches, and a broken moan spills from your lips as your orgasm drags you under, pleasure rippling through every inch of you. You don't know if it's that fucking pollen messing with you or if Dick just knows how to make you come undone like this, but it feels insane. Shattering, like you're falling apart in Jason's arms, completely helpless to the pleasure tearing through you.

But Dick doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, thrusting his fingers deep, curling them just right, rubbing against that spot inside you that makes your vision white out. His mouth stays locked around your clit, sucking, flicking his tongue over it, dragging you higher, stretching out your orgasm until it's too much, too intense.

All you can do is choke out a breathless, "D-Dick, wait—"

But he doesn't.

Your body jerks, overwhelmed, but he doesn't stop. His fingers work you open, deep and relentless, his tongue still lapping at your clit, pushing, pushing—

And then you gush. A sharp, full body shudder racks through you as hot, slick arousal pours from your cunt, drenching his fingers, his wrist, his fucking face.

It splashes against the sauna floor, and heat flares in your chest, embarrassment creeping up your spine as you gasp, "S-shit, I'm s-sorry—"

Jason lets out a rough groan, voice thick with arousal. "Fuck. A squirter, huh? That's so fuckin' hot, doll."

Dick doesn't care. He doesn't stop. His mouth stays on you, licking up every drop, his fingers fucking you slow, coaxing another trembling aftershock out of your spent, twitching cunt.

Your body is wrecked, boneless in Jason's grip, but Dick soothes you. Soft kisses pressed to your puffy clit, to your inner thighs, murmured praises against your overheated skin.

Jason groans against your ear, nipping at your jaw as he murmurs, "So pretty when you lose it, baby."

Dick finally pulls his fingers from your soaked pussy, and you whimper at the emptiness, body still twitching in the aftermath. He stands up, lifting his hand between you, watching the way your slick drips from his fingers before he licks them clean, moaning like he just tasted the best thing in the world.

And then he's kissing you.

It's not like Jason's kisses—Jason devours you, rough and desperate, all teeth and tongue. Dick? Dick takes his time. His lips move slow over yours, teasing, coaxing, his tongue sliding into your mouth, letting you taste yourself on him.

His cock grinds against your swollen, soaked pussy, dragging thick and leaking between your folds, and you feel the heat of Jason against your back as he presses closer, lips finding your neck, licking and sucking at the sensitive skin, leaving marks.

Dick pulls back just enough to look at you, breathing hard, eyes dark with need.

"You still with us, love?" he murmurs, voice low, sweet, but so thick with hunger.

And you are. But you need more. Jason slowly lowers you to the ground, careful, like he knows your legs won't hold you up yet. And he's right. The second your feet touch the sauna floor, your knees almost buckle, but they're right there.

Jason's strong hands steady your waist, while Dick's arms wrap around you, letting you melt against his chest, your cheek pressed to his flushed, sweat damp skin. His heartbeat is racing, just like yours.

They try to soothe you, even though they're still buzzing with need, cocks aching, pulsing, leaking against your skin. You can feel it, how hard they both are, how they're holding back, muscles tensed like they're barely keeping themselves together.

Dick's fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head up as he murmurs, "You okay?"

His voice is strained, rough with hunger he's barely keeping in check.

You nod, breathless. "I need more. I want you both, I want—"

Jason groans, low and wrecked, because fuck, his dick hurts, throbbing, hot, swollen with need. He's usually not like this—he's got control, he can push past anything, but this?

That fucking pollen? His logic is gone. The only thing left is the raw, aching need clawing at his gut, the sight of you, flushed and needy, still dripping from what Dick did to you.

"You sure?" Dick asks, voice tight, hesitant, because they care, because you're friends, because this is everything all at once.

"Yes," you gasp. "Fuck, I can't—I need more."

They try to resist. Try to be good, to be the men who have held themselves back all these years, who have ignored the teasing, the tension, the way you've always looked at them.

But it's too much. You're naked, hot, trembling between them, still soaked with slick and sweat, so fucking desperate for them, just like they are for you.

They exchange a look, like they're about to actually say something, like they're going to make one last attempt at self control.

But you're having none of it.

You grab both their hands, lacing your fingers with theirs as you guide them toward one of the benches, the air thick with tension, steam, and the undeniable pull of something you've all been trying to ignore for too long.

You stop in front of Dick, looking up at him through heavy lidded eyes as you say, "Sit down."

And he does, because of course he does. Because he knows better than to fuck with you when you've made up your mind, and even though you're smaller than both of them, you've always had a way of getting what you want.

You grab a few towels, spreading them on the floor in front of him because, honestly? Your body is already gonna be wrecked when this is over—bruises, hickeys, everything—and you really don't need your knees all fucked up on top of it.

Then, slowly, you kneel between his legs.

Jason is still standing behind you, watching, stunned, because sure, you've always been bold. You've flirted, teased, laughed in their faces when they tried to resist you, but this? This is something else.

You turn your head, looking up at Jason through heavy lashes, and say, "I need you to fuck me while I suck Dick off."

They both go still. Like their brains just short circuited. Like they can't quite believe what the fuck just came out of your mouth.

And you can see it happening, the exact moment something inside them snaps, because they've both fantasized about this, both thought about it more times than they'd ever admit, and now? Now you're on your knees, looking up at them, demanding it.

Dick swallows hard, his cock twitching, leaking against his stomach. His hands clench at his sides like he's trying so fucking hard to keep control. Jason? Jason just lets out a rough, breathless laugh, shaking his head, because fuck, you're gonna kill him.

Your ass wiggles as you shift into position, and behind you, Jason groans, deep and rough. "Fuck, look at you."

His big hands settle on your hips, hot and firm, fingers flexing like he's trying so hard to keep himself in check. And he can't help it, so he slaps your ass, the sharp sting sending a jolt of pleasure straight to your cunt.

"Oh—"

You gasp, thighs twitching, and Jason smirks, rubbing the mark he left behind, soothing the heat with his palm. "You like that shit, huh?"

You nod, looking over your shoulder at him with wide, glassy eyes, and his grip tightens.

"Got it, baby."

Then you turn back to Dick, gaze dropping to his cock. And God, he's just as long as Jason, maybe a little thinner, but just as pretty, thick and flushed, the veins along his shaft standing out against the hot, velvety skin. Precum beads at the tip, glistening, and when you lick your lips, Dick shudders, his breath hitching in his throat.

Behind you, Jason's hands slide lower, thumbs dragging over the curve of your ass before he spreads you open, groaning when he gets a good look at you.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mutters under his breath, almost dazed, like he can't believe what he's seeing.

You're so wet, swollen, your slick dripping down your thighs, smearing against the inside of his fingers. And your pussy? Fuck, it's the prettiest fucking thing he's ever seen—hot, flushed, clenching around nothing, like you're begging for something to fill you up.

His head tips back for a second, like he needs to pull himself together, but when he looks down again, when he sees your cunt flutter around nothing, aching to be fucked?

He's fucking gone.

Because he knows you're gonna squeeze his dick like a glove, knows you're gonna be so fucking tight, so hot and wet around him that he might actually lose his mind. You're perfect. And this? This can't be real.

But oh, it is.

You shift your weight onto your knees, looking up at Dick, and he looks like he's about to lose his fucking mind too. Especially when you wrap your fingers around his cock. He sucks in a breath, head falling back against the bench as your grip tightens, your palm gliding over his length, slow and teasing.

Then you lean in, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses to the inside of his thigh, and Dick whimpers. The sound makes your cunt throb, pleasure sparking up your spine, because he looks so good like this—so flushed, so desperate, so pretty.

His cock pulses in your hand, leaking all over your fingers, and you purr, "Poor Grayson," before pressing a soft kiss to the tip, tongue flicking out to lap up his precum, tasting the salt and heat of him.

Behind you, Jason curses under his breath, and then you feel the hot, thick weight of his cock press against your dripping cunt.

You gasp, back arching as he rubs the wet head of his dick over your slit, dragging it up and down, teasing your swollen, puffy folds, mixing his precum with your slick until you're soaked in it.

And you? You're trembling. Because you need this. You need them. The second your lips part, taking Dick's cock into your mouth, his hand tangles in your hair. His fingers thread through the strands, tugging just enough to make your scalp tingle, a sharp contrast to the warmth of his other hand cradling your cheek.

You moan around him, the sound vibrating through your throat, and he hisses, his head tipping back against the bench. "Fuck—"

You take him deeper, inch by inch, your jaw stretching to accommodate his length. He's thick, hot, the weight of him pressing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and suck. His thighs tense under your palms, muscles jumping when you bob your head slow, teasing, testing how much of him you can take.

His fingers tighten in your hair, his hips twitching—just barely—but you feel it, the way he wants to thrust, to fuck himself down your throat, but he waits, panting, letting you set the pace.

Behind you, Jason is shaking. Shaking.

His fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, his whole body tight, because fuck, your ass is wiggling, pushing back against him, grinding against his cock like you're trying to drive him insane.

And it's working. His dick throbs, thick and aching, leaking against your soaked, swollen cunt as you shift again, tilting your hips just right, and Jason snaps. He lines himself up and starts to push in, slow, deliberate, even though his whole body is telling him to fuck you, to take you, to split you open and wreck you.

But he waits. He has to wait. Because he knows he's big, and with how tight you are—so hot and wet, squeezing around just the tip—he can't move, not even if he wanted to.

His whole body trembles as he leans over you, pressing his chest to your back, grounding himself as much as he's grounding you. His big hands smooth up and down your sides, soothing, steadying, feeling the way your breath shudders as you try to relax, try to take him deeper.

But he waits, even though every muscle in his body is coiled tight, his jaw clenched so hard it aches, because even through the pollen haze, Jason cares. He needs you to feel good.

Your walls stretch around him, clutching at him, and he slides in so easily, your pussy welcoming him, pulling him in. He sinks in slow, inch by inch, splitting you open until he's fully sheathed inside you, buried to the hilt, and you can't help but moan. The vibration makes Dick's hips jerk, a curse tumbling from his lips as his fingers tighten in your hair.

And Jason?Jason groans, burying himself inside you, his forehead dropping against the back of your shoulder.

"Breathe, baby," he mutters against your skin, his lips trailing slow, soft kisses along your shoulder, his body trembling as he forces himself to stay still, to let you adjust, even though he wants to move so fucking bad.

He gives you time, even though his entire body is screaming at him to fuck you, to finally lose himself in the heat of your cunt.

"You're doin' so good," he rasps, voice strained, like the feel of your pussy wrapped around his cock is driving him straight to the fucking edge.

You slide off Dick's cock with a gasp, a line of spit still connecting your lips to his flushed tip. Your fingers tighten around the base, stroking him as your head dips forward, and Jason groans behind you, eyes clenching shut, breathing through it, fighting against the way your pussy is milking his cock.

You can't breathe. You can't think. The feeling is overwhelming, his cock pulsing deep inside you, stretching you so wide you feel full. Too full, almost, but Jason soothes you through it, his lips trailing soft, slow kisses along your skin.

"Jesus fuckin' Christ," he mutters under his breath, his jaw clenched, his whole body so tight he thinks he might snap in half.

And then, finally, you shift against him. A tiny moan leaves your lips, and Jason can't wait any longer. Slowly, he pulls out, his cock dragging against your sensitive, fluttering walls, making your whole body tremble. Then he pushes back in, just as slow, filling you up again, stretching you, claiming every inch of your cunt.

It burns. It aches, just a little. Your whimper is soft, almost inaudible, but Jason hears it.

And he shushes you, kissing your shoulder again, whispering, "You're doin' so fuckin' good for me."

Jason's grip tightens on your waist, fingers digging into your soft skin as he starts to move, slow and deliberate, pulling out almost all the way before pushing back in, filling you up again, making you moan.

It's too slow, too teasing. You need more.

So you refocus, letting yourself drown in the heat of Dick's body, the way his cock twitches in your grip, thick and flushed and leaking all over your fingers. You slide your tongue over the tip, swirling around the slit, savoring the salty taste of his precum before taking him back into your mouth, sinking deeper this time.

The stretch is obscene, your lips stretched wide around him, your jaw aching as you push further, inch by inch, your throat tightening as he hits the back of your mouth. You gag, drool spilling from the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin, but you don't care.

You love it. It's better than every fantasy you've ever had, better than every late night thought of them, better than you could've ever imagined. Because they feel so good, sound so good, and you know you're not coming back from this.

Dick is gone. His fingers tangle in your hair again, watching the way you take him, the way you look up at him with glassy, desperate eyes, and fuck, you're so pretty like this, drooling all over his cock, taking him so fucking deep.

His whole body tenses, muscles tight, abs flexing, the veins in his forearms standing out as he tries to control himself, to hold back, but Jesus Christ, you're making it so fucking hard.

Jason is just as wrecked. His pace is still slow, but he's obsessed, his mind fuzzy with how good you feel, how tight you are, how fucking perfect your pussy is wrapped around his cock, gripping him like a vice.

He has to see it.

So he moves his hands from your waist, big palms spreading over the curve of your ass, gripping the flesh before pulling your cheeks apart, groaning when he gets a clear view of your soaked cunt stretched so tight around his dick.

His cock twitches, a groan slipping from his lips because fuck, you're swallowing him whole, your pussy gripping every inch of him, making a mess all over his cock, slick glistening along his length.

This is the best pussy he's ever had. But he knows it's you. It has nothing to do with that pollen. It's you.

And he's so fucking gone over you.

You whimper around Dick's cock, your eyes flicking up to meet his, watching the way his chest rises and falls in quick, desperate pants. And then, slowly, you let him slip from your mouth again, gasping for air, your hand tightening around the base as you pant.

"Fuck my mouth."

Dick freezes, his breath hitching, his lips parting as his brows furrow, like he's not sure he heard you right.

"W-what?"

You lick your lips, eyes heavy lidded, spit glistening along your chin as you repeat, slow and clear. "Fuck. My. Mouth."

His whole body shudders, and he doesn't even think. Doesn't hesitate. He does it.

His grip tightens in your hair as he tilts your head back, and then he's pushing in, slow but firm, guiding his cock past your lips, groaning as the heat of your mouth wraps around him.

And behind you, Jason hisses, his fingers tightening on your ass before landing another sharp slap, making you jolt forward.

"Shit," he groans, his voice thick with arousal, dark with want. "You're freaky as fuck."

Dick's grip tightens in your hair as he starts to move, slow at first, thrusting shallowly, watching the way his cock glides over your slick tongue, the way your lips stretch around him, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"God, baby," he groans, voice strained, wrecked, his abs flexing as he pushes deeper, testing your limits, his hips jerking when you moan around him. "You feel so good—fuck, you're perfect. So sweet for me, taking me so well."

His words make your pussy clench around Jason's cock, the praise making your head spin, making you drool more as you relax your throat, letting Dick push deeper, the head of his cock nudging the back of your mouth. Your eyes flutter, heat sparking in your core as he fucks your mouth in slow, deliberate strokes.

His breath is ragged, his voice thick as he murmurs, "Just like that, pretty girl. You're doing so good. Such a perfect little thing."

Behind you, Jason groans, his grip bruising as he watches you take it, eyes dark, hungry.

"Fuck," he rasps, his voice rough, thick with need. "Look at you. So fuckin' nasty, baby. Goddamn, you're gonna make me lose my shit."

His hands slide over your ass, squeezing, spreading you open so he can watch the way your pussy stretches around his cock, gripping him like a fucking vice, sucking him in, milking him.

"You're so tight," he groans, his cock twitching inside you, his jaw clenching. "So fuckin' wet. Jesus Christ, this is the best pussy I've ever had."

The words make your walls flutter, make your body throb, and you can't help yourself. You push back against him, grinding your ass into his hips, moaning around Dick's cock as Jason curses, his fingers tightening on your ass.

And then he snaps. His patience shatters, his control slipping as he slams into you, knocking the breath from your lungs, making your eyes roll back.

"Fuck, yeah," Jason growls, dragging you back onto his cock, setting a relentless rhythm, fucking you deeper, harder, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing through the steam filled air. "That's what you wanted, huh? Wanted me to fuck you like this? Shit, you're so fuckin' needy, baby."

Your moans vibrate around Dick's cock, making him groan, his hips stuttering.

"Jesus Christ," he gasps, his fingers tugging on your hair, his head tipping back as he watches you, his cock throbbing as you swallow around him. "You're so fucking good, baby."

Jason groans, his cock dragging against your walls, each stroke sending sparks of pleasure skittering down your spine.

"Look at you," he rasps, voice low, dark, wrecked. "Gettin' your mouth fucked, gettin' your pussy fucked—shit, baby, you're drippin' all over my dick."

His words send a sharp throb through your core, making your walls squeeze around him, making him curse.

"Yeah, you like that? You like bein' a messy little thing?"

His words mix with Dick's soft, sweet praise, the contrast making your head spin, making your body ache for more, more, more. You're soaked, you're gone, and you're about to cum so hard.

Dick's fingers clench tighter in your hair, his whole body shaking as you take him deeper, swallowing him down until your nose brushes against the soft patch of hair at the base of his cock. His moans grow louder, ragged, his hips jerking forward, his self control slipping between his fingers.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, his voice wrecked, shaking. "You're—shit, you're gonna make me—"

You hum around him, hollowing your cheeks, sucking him harder, and that's it. That's all it takes for him to lose it.

His cock twitches on your tongue, the thick veins pulsing against the heat of your mouth as his orgasm slams into him, ripping through him like a live wire.

"Oh, fuck—"

His breath catches, his whole body locking up as the first hot pulse of his cum spills onto your tongue, thick and heavy, coating your throat as he shudders, trembles, his head tipping back against the wall, his lips parting in a wrecked, shaking moan.

You swallow it all, every last drop, your throat working around him, and it's too much. His thighs tense, his abs flex, his breath coming in sharp gasps as his hips jerk, his cock throbbing, overstimulated, as you keep sucking, drawing out every last spurt of his release.

"Jesus Christ, baby," he whimpers, his grip tightening for a second before his hand slips from your hair, his body melting, shaking, spent.

You finally let him slide free with a soft, wet pop, licking the last traces of him from your lips, and when he finally cracks his eyes open, looking down at you with flushed cheeks and a dazed, blissed out expression, he groans.

"God," he breathes, still catching his breath, his thumb stroking along your bottom lip, cleaning up the mess he left behind. "You're so fucking good."

You only have a second to grin before Jason grabs you. His arm wraps around your waist, yanking you up, pulling you against his chest as he slams his cock back into your pussy, the force of it making you gasp, your body arching as he fills you up again, stretching you all over.

"Fuckin' shit," Jason growls, his voice low, desperate, his breath hot against your ear as he pounds into you, his cock hitting deep, slamming into that spot inside you that makes your whole body tremble.

His free hand slides down, finding your clit, rubbing in quick, tight circles, his fingers slippery with your arousal.

"You gonna cum for me, baby?" he grits out, his voice dark, wrecked. "Gonna soak my fuckin' dick?"

You whimper, nodding desperately, your nails digging into his arms, your whole body coiling tight, every thrust, every press of his fingers sending you closer to the edge.

Your head tilts back, your lips parting, and Jason takes it as an invitation. His mouth crashes against yours, the kiss filthy, messy, his tongue sliding against yours as he fucks you harder, deeper, the wet slap of skin on skin echoing in the steam thick air.

It's too much. The way he's pounding into you, the way his fingers are rubbing your clit, the way his mouth is devouring yours—it's all too much.

You shatter. Your orgasm hits like a tidal wave, your body locking up as your walls clamp down around Jason's cock, your pussy spasming, milking him as you moan into his mouth, your whole body shaking from the force of it.

But he doesn't stop.

"Yeah," Jason groans, his pace relentless, his fingers still working your clit, pushing you higher, keeping you right there, shoving you into another orgasm before you can even catch your breath.

"Oh—fuck—"

Your whole body seizes, and then you gush, hot, wet, soaking his cock, the mess dripping down your thighs, pooling on the towels beneath you as your mind goes blank. Jason groans, his grip bruising, his voice full of awe and lust and pure fucking greed.

"Shit, baby," he growls, his hand sliding up your stomach to cup your tits, squeezing, his hips still slamming into you. "You're so fuckin' hot—goddamn, look at this mess you're makin'."

You're gone, trembling in his arms, panting, whimpering, still coming, your body wrecked, and he loves it.

But even after you've soaked his dick, even after you've cum so hard your legs shake and your body trembles, he just keeps going, fucking you through it, chasing his own high, refusing to let you catch your breath.

Your thoughts are a mess, a haze of heat and pleasure and pure, desperate need. Every time he thrusts back inside, it knocks the air from your lungs, sending another sharp jolt of electricity up your spine, making your toes curl.

His dick is so big, so hot, so thick, stretching you to your limit, the swollen head hitting your cervix with every deep, brutal stroke, the impact sending sparks of pain-laced pleasure licking up your spine.

Jason groans, his breath hot against your ear, his big hands sliding from your waist to your tits, squeezing, kneading, rolling your sensitive nipples between his fingers.

"Fuck, baby," he moans, voice wrecked, breathless. "You feel so good—tight little pussy's so fuckin' wet, takin' my dick like a fuckin' dream."

His voice is a growl, his breath ragged, filthy, and it makes you clench around him, your body reacting to the sheer, raw hunger in his voice.

"Drippin' down my fuckin' balls, makin' a mess all over me," he mutters, his pace getting faster, his hips snapping against your ass, the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin filling the air. "Such a fuckin' good girl, lettin' me fuck you like this—shit—"

His moan is deep, gritty, his lips brushing against your neck, and it makes your brain melt.

You can feel Dick watching.

His heavy, ragged breathing, the way he groans softly under his breath every time your tits bounce from the sheer force of Jason's thrusts, the way he's still hard, his cock resting heavy against his abdomen as he watches Jason destroy you.

Jason buries his face in your shoulder, his pace stuttering, and then his voice turns urgent, desperate. "Shit," he pants. "Where do you want me to cum, doll?"

The words slip out before you even think.

"Inside," you whimper, the plea ragged, breathless. "Inside me, please."

Jason groans, his arms tightening around you, his body shaking. "Fuck."

He grabs your waist, slamming into you, fucking you like a man possessed, like he's starving for you, like he needs to be as deep as possible, stretching you wide, filling you to the fucking brim.

And it's like something in Dick snaps. He drops to his knees, his big hands sliding up your thighs, and then his fingers find your clit.

"Oh—fuck—"

Your whole body seizes—Jason's cock splitting you open, fucking you deep and hard, pounding into your soaking cunt while Dick's fingers rub your puffy, far too sensitive clit, quick and precise, pushing you higher, driving you insane.

Then Dick leans in, his lips brushing against yours, swallowing your moans, devouring them, and God, this has to be the hottest fuck of your life.

His tongue, hot, wet, messy against yours, kissing you like he needs you, like he's starving for the taste of your pleasure.

And shit, these two men—hot as fuck, sweaty, desperate, ruining you. They are going to wreck you for anyone else for sure.

Jason groans, his pace brutal, his cock pounding into your swollen, soaked pussy, stretching you so wide, splitting you open, filling you so deep you can feel him in your stomach.

He's right there, right on the edge, voice rough, breath ragged as he mutters, "C'mon, baby, I'm so close. Fuck, gimme one more, let me feel you."

And then, Dick starts slapping your clit slightly. It's sharp, the sting mixing with the unbearable pleasure of Jason's cock fucking you stupid, and that's it, you snap.

Your whole body locks up, your pussy clenching down hard around Jason's cock, milking him, your legs trembling as your orgasm crashes through you, drowning you in wave after wave of pure, burning pleasure.

Your mouth falls open in a wrecked, wordless moan, eyes rolling back, sweat dripping down your skin as you shake, your whole body on fire, pleasure exploding behind your eyelids, your clit throbbing, your walls spasming around Jason's thick cock.

And he loses it.

"Fuck—" His breath punches out of him, a deep, desperate groan rumbling through his chest, his grip on your hips turning bruising as your pussy chokes his cock, squeezing him so tight he can't hold back.

He buries himself to the hilt, grinding deep, grinding so fucking deep, and then, he cums. Thick, hot spurts of cum flood your pussy, painting your walls, filling you up so much you can feel it, dripping out around his cock, mixing with your slick as he lets out a deep, wrecked groan.

But he doesn't stop.

Even as his dick throbs, even as he pulses inside you, he grits his teeth and fucks it deeper, slow, deep rolls of his hips, making sure every last drop stays buried inside you, making sure you feel it.

Dick's fingers never stop, still rubbing your aching clit, making you whimper, making your whole body jolt, your thighs quivering, your nipples aching, your pussy so full and sensitive that every little movement makes you twitch.

And then Dick finally lets you breathe.

He breaks the kiss, his lips swollen, his breathing uneven, his eyes dark with lust as he soothes you, his hands smoothing up your back, down your arms, pressing soft kisses along your jaw, your temple, whispering soft praises against your skin.

Your breath shudders out of you, your head dropping forward onto Dick's shoulder as Jason stills behind you, his chest rising and falling, sweat slicking his skin, his grip still tight on your waist, grounding you as you tremble in their hold.

Jason does the same, his big hands rubbing slow, warm circles into your waist, his lips brushing against your shoulder, his breath deep, calming, as he lets you come down.

But it's not enough. You still need more.

Your whole body buzzes with it, aching with it, and before you can stop yourself, before you can even think, the words tumble from your lips, breathless, desperate, "I need... I—w-want you both at the same time."

Jason freezes. "Fuckin' shit."

His arm tightens around your waist, his cock still buried inside you, twitching just at the thought of it.

And Dick? His breath catches, his fingers tightening against your skin, his lips parting as his brows furrow, something unreadable flickering across his face before he cups your cheek, pressing soft, sweet kisses all over your flushed skin.

"Love, maybe we should—"

"No," you shake your head, chest heaving. "I need it. I—fuck, I need more."

Dick hesitates. "But we'd need lube, and—"

"I have some," you gasp. "In—in my locker. In my bag."

They both freeze. Jason raises a brow, his lips twitching, while Dick blinks at you, head tilting slightly.

"...You what?"

Your face burns. "I just bought it—I was gonna take it home, but I kept forgetting—"

Jason smirks, shaking his head, while Dick huffs out a quiet laugh before turning on his heel.

"I'll get it."

Your thoughts swirl, still dazed, still high from pleasure. It's really just a coincidence, something you bought last week and forgot to leave at home, but now? Now, you're just grateful you have it.

The second Dick is gone, Jason leans in, his lips brushing against yours, slow, deep, his tongue dragging along your bottom lip before slipping into your mouth. You moan softly, body pressing into his, heat still pooling low in your stomach.

When he pulls away, his smirk is sharp, eyes dark.

"You just bought it, huh?"

Your eyes dart away, face burning, and he chuckles. Then Dick is back, the bottle of lube in hand, and he's grinning, but there's something in his eyes, something darker, something hungrier.

He tosses the bottle onto the bench, his gaze flickering between you and Jason before he murmurs, "That's real convenient, sweetheart."

Jason's lips brush against your neck, hot and damp with sweat, his breath still ragged as he drags his mouth along your skin, pressing open mouthed kisses to the flushed heat of your throat. His hands slide down your waist, holding you, still keeping you close, as if he doesn't want to pull away just yet.

But then he does. His cock slips free, and the loss makes you whine, your walls clenching around nothing, feeling so empty after being stretched and filled so deep.

Jason chuckles, low and rough, pressing another slow kiss to your shoulder before he straightens, his hands steady on your waist as he helps you up, keeping you from collapsing completely. And then, his cum starts dripping out of you.

Thick, warm, messy, streaking down your thighs, slick and obscene, mixing with your own wetness, making your skin glisten under the dim lights.

Jason groans, watching it, his fingers squeezing at your hips before he turns you around, cupping your face with both hands, tilting your chin up so you have to look at him.

He kisses you, deep, messy, wet.

His tongue pushes past your lips immediately, curling against yours, dragging along the roof of your mouth, swallowing the small gasp you let out as he dominates the kiss.

It's all spit and heat, his grip firm, his fingers digging into your jaw as he devours you, groaning into your mouth, his own hips twitching forward instinctively, as if he's not done with you yet.

And maybe he's not. When he finally pulls away, your lips are slick with spit, swollen and tingling, your breath coming in short, shaky gasps.

But Jason just smirks, his thumb dragging across your bottom lip as he murmurs, "Took me so fuckin' well."

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, heat coiling in your belly, but you don't even have time to dwell on it because you're already turning to Dick, your whole body still thrumming with need.

"Lay on the bench."

His brows lift, lips parting slightly, but he doesn't question it. He grabs some towels first, spreading them out so he can sit more comfortably, before laying back, his cock still hard, standing thick and flushed against his stomach, twitching slightly as he watches you, pupils blown.

You barely give him time to think. You climb on top of him, straddling his hips, and the moment your soaked pussy presses against his cock, dragging along his length, he groans, his head falling back slightly.

"Fuck," he breathes, his hands gripping your thighs, sliding up to cup your ass. "That pollen fucked us up badly."

You nod, whimpering, rubbing yourself against him, smearing Jason's cum and your own slick all over his cock, making it all slippery, all hot, and then, Dick grinds right back.

His hands tighten on your ass, his hips rolling up against yours, rubbing the thick, leaking head of his cock against your throbbing clit, making you moan, making your thighs tremble from the overstimulation.

But you need him inside. Now. Lifting yourself up, you barely hesitate before sinking down onto his cock, and it's so easy. You're soaked, dripping, stretched wide and ready from Jason, and Dick slides right in, filling you up in one smooth, wet motion, the thick length of him pressing against every sensitive spot inside you.

Dick gasps, his fingers flexing against your ass, his chest rising sharply as his brows furrow, his mouth falling open in a soft, breathless moan. His thoughts are a mess.

He's inside you. He's inside you, and you feel so fucking good. So tight, so warm, so fucking wet, and it's all for him.

Well, for him and Jason, all of you caught up in this fever, this unbearable need, and fuck, he never thought this would happen, never thought he'd get to feel you like this, but now... now he can't stop thinking about it.

Can't stop thinking about how you feel around him, how you're squeezing him, how your slick drips down his length, coating his cock, making it so easy to slide deeper, making it so fucking hot.

"Jesus," he groans, his head tipping back, his fingers gripping at you. "Baby, you feel... fuck, you feel so good."

Dick can't stop kissing you. It's like he's obsessed, like he needs his mouth on you just as much as he needs to fuck you.

Every time his hips drive up, his cock sinking deep inside your dripping cunt, he's pulling you down to meet him, his lips crashing against yours, groaning into your mouth like he's drunk on the heat of you, the taste of you, the way your walls grip him so tight every time he moves.

"God, baby," he pants against your lips, voice breathless, wrecked, his fingers digging into your hips as he thrusts up into you again, harder this time, his cock rubbing against every tender, sensitive spot inside you. "I can't stop, I can't—"

You moan, your arms wrapping around his shoulders, clinging to him, feeling every shift of his muscles, every snap of his hips as he fucks into you with slow, deep, needy strokes.

And across from you, Jason watches. His lips are slightly parted, his chest rising with each heavy breath, his eyes locked on the way Dick's cock sinks in and out of your soaked, used pussy, slick noises filling the sauna, making his jaw clench.

"Fuck," he mutters, his grip tightening around his cock, stroking himself slowly.

His breath catches as he watches the way your body takes it, how easy it is for Dick to slide into you after he already ruined you, stretching you out, leaving you so wet that it's effortless.

His free hand slides up your back, fingers tracing along the sweat slick curve of your spine, following it down to your ass, where he grips the flesh and spreads you slightly. The moment he does, he groans at the sight of Dick's cock fucking into your pussy, your hole clinging to him, soaked and messy, your juices dripping down to your thighs, making the whole thing so fucking filthy.

You hear the slick pop of a bottle being opened, and then, his fingers, cool and slick with lube, gliding over the rim of your other hole. A soft, teasing touch.

Your breath hitches, a shiver running through you even as you grind down onto Dick's cock, making him groan, his hands flexing against your hips. Jason smirks, rubbing slow circles around your rim, massaging the tight muscle, teasing it, not pushing in just yet.

"Gotta stretch you open first, doll," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the dip of your spine. "Don't wanna hurt you."

You nod, panting, pressing back into his hand as he finally, slowly, pushes in the tip of his finger. Your body twitches at the stretch, a sharp inhale escaping you as your walls flutter around Dick's cock at the same time, making him groan, his brows furrowing as he tries to keep himself from losing it.

Jason waits a moment, watching the way you react, his other hand rubbing slow circles along your waist, his voice softer this time when he asks, "You okay, baby?"

You exhale shakily, nodding, your body adjusting to the new sensation, the slight pressure of his finger stretching you open.

And then he starts to move.

Slowly, teasingly, fucking you with the single finger, slipping it in and out in careful strokes, feeling the way your body responds, the way your walls tremble around him, your moans growing softer, more desperate as he adds another finger.

A low, drawn out out moan escapes you, your body twitching, your walls fluttering around Dick's cock again, making him groan, his fingers gripping your hips harder.

"You're so fuckin' tight," Jason mutters, his forehead pressing to your shoulder as he works his fingers in deeper, stretching you open, his cock twitching at the way you pulse around him.

His movements stay patient, calculated, letting you get used to every single sensation, letting you feel it, your body reacting to both him and Dick at the same time, your nerves lighting up from how much stimulation there is, how they're everywhere all at once.

By the time he slides in a third finger, you're trembling, panting, your nails digging into Dick's shoulders as he groans at the way you keep clenching around him.

"You're doin' so good, baby," Jason murmurs against your back, pressing a slow kiss between your shoulder blades, fingers curling inside you, stretching you wider.

Dick keeps kissing you. He can't stop.

His lips keep finding yours between every breathless moan, every shaky exhale, every soft noise that leaves your lips as Jason's fingers work you open, stretching you wider, preparing you for his dick.

You can barely think. Your body is trembling, nerves buzzing, your mind foggy with want, with need, your hands gripping Dick's shoulders as he pants against your lips, "You feel so good, sweetheart, I—fuck, I need to feel you."

Jason growls against your skin, his fingers sinking deeper, pushing past the tight ring of muscle until he's knuckle deep, fucking them in and out in slow, filthy thrusts. He watches you shudder, listens to the way you gasp, the way your thighs tremble when he curls his fingers just right.

"Relax," he murmurs, dragging his teeth over your neck, his free hand gripping your hip to keep you still. "You're already takin' me so fuckin' well, baby—bet you'll stretch around my dick like a dream."

He spreads his fingers, stretching you wider, dragging them back just to push in again, deeper, rougher, wetter. The slick, obscene sounds of it make heat curl in your belly, make your whole body tighten, aching, desperate.

"Fuck, you feel this?" Jason grunts, his fingers twisting, pressing, stroking in slow, teasing circles. "So tight, so fuckin' perfect—gonna ruin you, baby."

Dick presses another kiss to your lips, then another, then another, each one deeper, more desperate, more needy, because he has to. He has to taste you, has to feel you, has to lose himself in you while Jason kneels behind you, his cock hard and aching, the tip glistening as he slowly, carefully pulls his fingers out of your ass.

A low groan rumbles in his chest at the sight, his hands gripping your ass, spreading you slightly, watching the way your body twitches, the way your ass clenches, still slightly open from how deep his fingers had been.

"Relax, doll," he murmurs, his breath warm against your spine as he slicks himself up with lube, rubbing the tip of his cock against your hole, teasing, pressing just slightly to gauge your reaction.

Your whole body shudders, and Dick cradles your face, kisses you slow, deep, as he whispers against your lips, "Breathe, pretty girl. I got you."

Jason presses in. Slowly. The stretch is immediate, intense, your body clenching around him as he sinks in, inch by inch, his jaw tight as he groans, hands gripping your hips, feeling the way you shake as you adjust to the sheer size of him, to the way he's filling you.

Dick can feel it too. Your walls clenching around his cock, getting tighter just from how Jason is stretching you open, making him groan, his hands flexing against your waist.

"Fuck, baby," Jason grits out, his breath coming out shaky as he finally bottoms out, his forehead pressing against your back, his chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths. "You feel so fuckin' good."

You're a mess. Your breath is shaky, your pulse racing, your body overwhelmed in the best way possible, stuffed full, stretched wide, both of them inside you, filling you to the absolute brim.

Still, it's not enough. You need more. And the moment you shift, rolling your hips slightly, feeling the way it makes Jason's cock nudge deeper, Dick lets out a sharp, wrecked sound and tightens his grip on your hips.

"Hold still, love," he breathes, his voice low, strained, adjusting his grip on you, making sure you don't have to move, don't have to do anything except take it.

And you will. You'll take all of it. Because they need this just as much as you do, and neither of them can hold back much longer.

Jason exhales hard through his nose, his grip steady on your hips, his cock pulsing, buried deep inside your ass as he presses his chest flush against your back.

His lips graze your shoulder, his breath warm, voice low and gruff when he murmurs, "Good? Still with us?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, your brain foggy, words barely forming as you pant, "M-Move, please..."

Dick is the first to obey. His fingers flex at your waist, his muscles tensing beneath you as he rolls his hips up, fucking into your soaked cunt slow and deep, dragging a moan from your throat as the thick length of him stretches you open all over again.

Jason groans at the sight, at the way your tight little hole clenches around Dick's cock, the way your body shudders when Dick fills you to the hilt, rubbing against the spots that make you gasp, make you shake.

And then, Jason moves. It's slow, deliberate, his hips grinding forward, easing himself out just to push back in, filling your ass just as Dick fills your pussy, the slow stretch making your breath catch, making your fingers curl against Dick's chest.

Your mind is blank. Absolutely fucking blank. You can barely register the words Dick is whispering, his voice soft, warm, each praise making you clench down tighter, "God, sweetheart, you feel so good—so tight, so perfect—taking both of us so well, baby, so fucking good—"

His words make your breath stutter, make your walls squeeze around him, make Jason groan, his hands gripping your hips, thumbs stroking your skin as he kisses your back, your shoulders, your neck, his lips soft, reverent, even as he fucks you.

And you can barely breathe. Your mouth falls open in a silent moan, your body trembling as they thrust into you, stretching you, filling you, overwhelming you with the sheer amount of pleasure you're drowning in.

Jason's hand slides around you. Finds your puffy little clit. Presses down. You wail.

Your whole body jerks, your breath shattering as Jason grins against your skin, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, slow and cruel, all while his cock grinds deep into your ass, making your walls clench around both of them.

Dick chokes on a moan, his hips jerking, his fingers digging into your waist, his cock stuffing your pussy, pushing deeper, hitting that spot that makes you keen.

Jason groans at the reaction, pressing his forehead to your shoulder, muttering, "Fuck, baby, that's it—take it—"

And you do. You take everything. The stretch, the pressure, the fullness, the filthy praise whispered into your ear, the heat of their bodies against yours. The way their cocks move inside you, making your vision swim, making your mind blank, making your whole body tremble as they keep fucking you.

And there's nothing—nothing—you want more.

Jason's fingers keep working your clit, slow and teasing one moment, rough and insistent the next, rubbing tight little circles that have your thighs trembling, your body caught between the steady drag of his cock in your ass and the deep, devastating thrusts of Dick's cock inside your pussy.

Your breath shatters, your body taut, stretched wide, so full, their cocks filling you over and over, slick and hot, the filthy sound of it echoing off the walls, slick wet noises mixing with your gasping moans, their groans, their praises.

Dick slides a hand up your waist, warm and firm, fingers trailing the sweat slicked curves of your body, before moving higher, higher, until he cups your breast.

A strangled moan gets caught in your throat as he palms you, rolling your nipple between his fingers, his grip firm, possessive, desperate, his hips never slowing, cock driving deep, kissing your cervix with every thrust.

Jason groans behind you, his cock throbbing, pulsing inside your tight, hot ass, his grip almost bruising at your hip as he watches Dick squeeze your tits, watches how you whimper and twitch, body so fucking responsive.

"Fuckin' hell," Jason rasps, pressing his forehead against your back, panting, "You're so tight, baby—grippin' me so good—"

Dick is all needy and breathless as he mutters, "You're so perfect—so wet, so fucking soft—"

And fuck, fuck, it's too much.

Your whole body tenses, muscles coiling, pleasure spiking, your slick dripping down, coating Dick's cock, soaking his thighs, Jason's fingers still rubbing your clit, still teasing, still playing with you.

Your vision blurs, your mouth falls open in a silent moan, and then you snap. Your orgasm rips through you like a fucking supernova, a shuddering, gut wrenching explosion of white hot pleasure. Wave after wave crashes into you as your pussy clenches, gripping Dick's cock so tight he chokes on a groan, hips faltering, hands gripping your waist to hold you there, fuck you through it, hips rutting up in messy, desperate thrusts.

Jason curses loud and filthy, his free hand digging into your hip as your ass tightens around him, milking his cock, making him throb, his jaw clenched so tight it aches as he rubs your clit faster, dragging out your orgasm, making you whimper, tremble, shake.

"That's it, doll," Jason growls, voice rough, filled with lust, "Fuck—look at you, so fuckin' messy, so good—"

Dick is moaning beneath you, his grip on you tightening, his cock still buried deep inside your spasming cunt, still rutting up into you, and it's so much, too much, your whole body a trembling, sweaty, soaked mess.

"M-more—"

Your voice is a broken little whimper, barely a sound at all, your body hot between them, overstimulated and fucked senseless, but still, still, you beg for more.

"H-harder—fuck—p-please—"

And that's it. That's it. Jason curses under his breath, and Dick's fingers tighten on your hips as something inside them just snaps, and they ruin you.

Jason grips your waist, holding you steady as he slams into your ass, hips snapping forward with messy, needy thrusts, cock stretching you wide, stuffing you so full, his abs flexing, sweat dripping down his chest.

Dick isn't any better. He's never fucked like this before, never felt like this before, usually so careful, so sweet, because he likes making love, likes taking his time. He's usually all slow, sensual touches and soft whispers, but the pollen, the fucking pollen.

You're soaking his cock, clenching around him, your pussy hot and wet and so fucking tight, making these little whimpering sounds that make his brain short circuit, that make him lose every single ounce of restraint.

He pounds into you, moaning, hips driving up to meet yours again and again, his mind blank, wrecked, obsessed with how you feel around him, how good you take it, how you keep begging for it.

"Yes—yes—yes—more—fuck—"

You can't stop babbling, pleading, brain melting under the push and pull of their cocks inside you, their hands gripping you, keeping you in place, using you, fucking you.

"More—more—more—"

You're whimpering, gasping, trembling, bouncing between him and Jason like you belong to them.

"F-fuck—"

Jason feels like he's burning alive, the heat of your body, the way your ass grips his cock, the way you tremble every time he fucks you deeper, the sweat dripping down his back, his chest, his hips slapping your ass, his free hand sliding up your spine, grabbing the back of your neck, squeezing just a little, just enough to make you gasp.

"Shit, baby, you're so fuckin' tight—"

And then—

"Fuck—fuck— fuck—"

Dick breaks.

His whole body tenses, back arching, muscles coiling as his cock jerks inside you, and then he's cumming, gasping, groaning, fucking his seed deep into your cunt, pumping you full, stuffing you so full, hot and thick. His arms lock around your waist, holding you down as he ruts up into you, still moving, still fucking you through it because he can't stop, can't fucking stop.

And you—

You feel it, feel the hot rush of it inside you, feel it leak out around his cock, smearing on your swollen folds, on Jason's fingers still working your clit, on his balls, sticky and messy, so fucking filthy. You love it, love the way it drips out of you, love the way Dick whimpers as he fucks through his orgasm, love the way Jason grunts behind you, voice rough, guttural.

"Christ, look at that—fuckin' drippin'—"

And he's still fucking you, still grinding against you, his cock still hard, still deep, still pounding your ass, and you whimper, still shaking, still so fucking sensitive.

Jason's fingers are merciless.

They press against your swollen, throbbing clit, slick with a mess of cum, circling it, teasing, rubbing just right.

"F-fuck, Jay, I—"

Your words break, barely more than a whimper, and Dick shifts beneath you, his hands tight on your hips, his cock still stuffed deep in your wrecked pussy, and he feels it.

He feels the way your walls are fluttering, spasming, gripping him, the way your whole body is starting to shake.

"That's it, baby, let go—"

Jason's voice is low, gravelly, and then it hits you.

A wave of white hot pleasure, so intense, so overwhelming, your whole body tenses and breaks at the same time, back arching, mouth falling open in a silent, shattered sob as you clench around both of them, your pussy squeezing Dick so tight he groans, hips jerking, and your ass—

"Shit—fuck—"

Jason chokes on his own breath, the sudden tight, spasming grip around his cock making his rhythm stutter, making his fingers falter, making his whole body tense as heat coils low in his gut, hot and throbbing, his hips snapping forward in shallow, desperate thrusts.

"Fuck— baby—"

His hand locks onto your waist, fingers digging into your soft, sweat slicked skin, and he buries himself deep, cock throbbing, pulsing, spilling inside you, thick and hot. He can't stop moving, can't stop grinding into you, fucking it deeper, groaning, shuddering against your back as his orgasm wrecks him.

You sob.

Not just because it's too much, not just because your body is shaking, not just because your clit is pulsing under Jason's fingers, because your pussy is still leaking cum, because your ass is stuffed with it, because the pleasure is endless.

You sob because you've never been fucked this good, because it's Dick and Jason, because your body is spent. Because you're so tired and still trembling, still whimpering as Jason finally stills behind you, followed by Dick, both of them still inside you, both of them breathing hard.

"Baby—"

Dick's voice is so soft, and you barely register it before your body gives out, before you collapse against his chest. His arms catch you, wrap around you, hold you tight, his big, warm hands rubbing slow, soothing circles into your back as you keep sobbing, sniffling, your body twitching from the aftershocks.

"Shit—"

Jason's hands smooth down your back, his lips pressing against the curve of your spine, kissing your sweat-damp skin as he exchanges a look with Dick, something unspoken, something concerned.

"Breathe, sweetheart," Dick murmurs, tucking you closer, his lips pressing to your temple, your forehead, "You're okay. We got you."

Jason hums against your back, his hands gentle now, tracing slow, grounding touches down your waist, your sides, rubbing at your hips, pressing softer kisses against your skin.

"M'sorry—" you hiccup, voice hoarse, and Jason shakes his head, arms tightening around you.

"Nah, baby," he murmurs, "Nothin' to be sorry for."

"We got you," Dick echoes, voice still so soft, lips still brushing against your skin, still pressing slow, tender kisses over your face, "We got you, love."

And the haze of the pollen is fading, just slightly, just enough to let the exhaustion creep in, just enough to let you sink into their warmth, just enough to let you breathe.

A little sniffle escapes you, barely more than a breath, and Jason exhales, his fingers tightening on your waist before he slowly, gently pulls out. You whimper, hips twitching at the loss, and he shushes you, hands smoothing down your sides, his voice low and gruff—

"Sorry, sweetheart."

It's only then, as his head starts to clear, that he sees you, like... really sees you.

The red marks scattered across your skin, the deep, dark hickeys, the little bruises blooming where fingers had gripped too tight, where mouths had been too hungry.

And normally, Jason wouldn't care. Wouldn't think about it, wouldn't dwell. But this wasn't some random fuck. This was you. And he cares about you.

He exchanges a look with Dick, who seems to be thinking the exact same thing, but before either of them can say anything, you lift your head slightly, voice soft, drowsy, still so blissed out.

"That was... that was so..." you pause as you take a slow, heavy breath. "That was the best fuck of my life."

For a second, they're stunned. Then Jason snorts, shaking his head as his hands squeeze your hips.

"You're somethin' else, pretty girl."

You hum, then shift, sitting up on Dick, your hands steadying yourself on his chest, his cock finally softening inside you.

Dick's hand cups your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, his gaze soft, fond, full of something warm and aching.

"You okay?"

You nod, but he tilts his head, eyes scanning your face. "You sure?"

"So fucking sure," you murmur, leaning into his palm, letting his touch ground you, soothe you.

Jason exhales, then reaches over, fingers brushing your damp, sweat sticky hair from your shoulder before he leans in, pressing a soft, warm kiss to your skin.

They let you breathe, let you come down completely, their hands slow and gentle, smoothing over your back, your arms, grounding you with soft touches, murmured reassurances, little praises that make your stomach flip.

And then, you shift again, lifting yourself from Dick's lap, and—

Oh.

The mess is... everywhere. Your thighs are slick, cum dripping from your swollen pussy, smearing on Dick's softening cock, streaking down onto the bench beneath you, pooling on the towels.

And now that the pollen haze has lifted, now that your mind is clearer, the sight of it, the reality of it, makes your face go hot, embarrassment creeping up your spine.

They see it. They know you. Jason clicks his tongue, turns you to face him, and pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping tight around you, caging you against him.

"Don't do that shit," he murmurs, voice warm, rough, "It's fine. We'll clean up."

You bury your face in his chest, mumbling something unintelligible, and he huffs, hand smoothing down your back.

"Kinda late for that, doll."

You groan, lifting a weak arm to swat at his shoulder. "Shut up."

Dick chuckles, shaking his head as he stretches, standing from the bench, his legs shaky, his hands settling on his hips as he exhales.

"You two go ahead and clean up," he says, rolling his shoulders, "I'll handle things here."

And before you can argue, before you can say I can help or I should clean up too, he steps up behind you, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your shoulder.

"Okay?"

You nod, still tucked against Jason's chest, and Dick hums, brushing his fingers down your arm before stepping away.

But before you can step away, Jason's arms tighten.

"Wait—"

Your words die in your throat as Jason lifts you, carrying you towards the showers like you weigh nothing, and normally, you'd protest.

Would roll your eyes, would shove at his shoulder, would grumble about carrying yourself. But right now, you're too fucked out to care. So you just sigh, letting your body go boneless against him, arms loosely wrapping around his shoulders as he carries you away.

Jason sets you down and turns on the water, the warm steam curling around you, soaking into your aching muscles. And the second your feet touch the tile, your knees buckle. But he's there, his hands steady on your waist, keeping you upright, and you let him.

His chest rises and falls with a slow, steady breath before he lifts one hand, cupping your face, his calloused fingers warm against your damp skin.

"You sure you're okay?"

His voice is quiet, rough around the edges, something almost hesitant underneath it.

You swallow, blinking up at him, exhaustion pulling at your limbs, your bones, every part of you. "Yeah." Your voice is soft, barely above a breath. "I just... 'm tired."

He nods. "I know."

You pout, and God, it's that little pout that always made him wanna kiss you, that always made his chest tight, even when he'd told himself not to care, even when he swore he wouldn't let it get to him.

"I wanna go home," you murmur, voice small, pleading.

His fingers tighten just slightly on your waist. "We'll take you home in a bit."

He leans in. Just a little. Just enough to brush his lips over yours—hesitant, almost unsure, because apparently, the pollen's not fucking with your heads anymore, and maybe this is where it ends, maybe this is where it stops, where everything just goes back to the way it was.

But you kiss him back. Soft, gentle, nothing like the desperate, frantic kisses from before, and his breath catches against your lips.

You pull back, barely, just enough to whisper, "Will you stay tonight?"

His brows pull together, his fingers brushing along your cheek. "Yeah, baby."

Your stomach flutters at the rasp of his voice, and you swallow, biting your lip before murmuring, "Both of you?"

He exhales, tilting his head down, brushing his nose against yours as he whispers, "Yeah. Both of us."

You nod, barely there, barely anything at all, and Jason watches you for a second, something warm, something almost uncertain flickering behind his eyes.

And then, you kiss him again. Soft, sweet, exhausted. And something about the way his lips press to yours, about the way his hand cradles your face, about the way his body relaxes against yours, even now... it feels right.

Like it was always meant to be this way.

Like something shifts inside you, deep in your chest, something small and fragile and terrifying.

Because you've had only fucked up men in your life before. Men who hurt. Men who took. Men who left nothing but bruises and scars in their wake. And now you have them—Jason, Dick—and you're scared.

Scared of losing them, scared of ruining this, scared of the ache in your chest that tells you you want them, not just like this, not just like what happened tonight, but something tells you they feel the same. Something tells you Dick feels the same. Something about the way Jason holds you now, the way he kisses you like it's not just about the fuck, like it matters, like you matter.

After cleaning up and making sure there's no evidence of what went down in the Batcave, the three of you made your way back to your apartment, exhaustion settling deep in your bones, but something warmer, something unchanged lingering between you all.

You're sprawled across your couch, tucked between two very warm, very big bodies, soaking up their heat as you all demolish a large pepperoni pizza. Because after that? After the hours of fucking, the overstimulation, the pollen that had you all wrapped up in a desperate, needy haze?

You're starving. And for once, there's no tension. No awkwardness. No 'so... what now?' kind of moment.

Just pizza. Just warmth. Just them.

Dick sits to your right, long legs stretched out, one arm draped over the back of the couch, fingers idly brushing over your shoulder as he chews, completely at ease.

And Jason's on your left, reclined, socked feet propped up on your coffee table like he owns the place, one arm resting over your thighs while the other holds his slice, chewing with that half lidded, relaxed expression that means he's content.

And the thing is, it's not weird. It should be, right?

You just got wrecked by both of them in the Batcave of all places, and now you're here, cuddled up between them like it's nothing, like this was normal, like this was just another night of the three of you hanging out.

Except, it wasn't just another night. It was the first time you'd crossed that boundary. The first time you let yourselves give in to the tension that had always been there, just beneath the surface, lingering, waiting for something—anything—to push you all over the edge.

And it should've changed everything. But it didn't. If anything, it felt like it enhanced it.

Like something had clicked into place. Like this was always meant to happen. Dick swallows his bite, licking a bit of sauce from his thumb as he watches you from the corner of his eye. And he knows you.

He knows that little crease between your brows means you're overthinking. That the way you press your lips together means you're trying to make sense of something, trying to name whatever the hell this is, trying to define it.

And for once, you don't have to. Because he gets it. He feels it.

He'd spent years wanting you, wanting this, but never acting on it, because you were one of his closest friends, because you were one of Jason's closest friend, because the idea of losing you over some reckless decision was too much, too dangerous.

Jason snorts as you grab another slice of pizza, shoving it into your mouth like you haven't eaten in days, and he bumps his knee against yours, mumbling, "Jesus, slow down, doll. You're gonna choke."

You roll your eyes, mouth full, and mumble back, "Whose fault is that?"

Dick laughs—a soft, breathy chuckle as he leans back against the couch, his arm draped casually behind you. "She's got a point."

Jason clicks his tongue, tearing off a bite of his own pizza. "Yeah, yeah, whatever."

And it's so normal. So easy. Dick can't stop thinking about it. Because this should feel different. He thought it would feel different.

That maybe things would be awkward, that maybe you'd pull away, that maybe Jason would crack some joke that would make it feel less than what it was, like it was just another fuck, another good time.

But it wasn't.

And this—this easy, quiet warmth, the way you're curled up against them like you've always belonged there, the way Jason hasn't made a single move to leave, the way he hasn't wanted to leave... it feels like something that was always meant to happen.

Because as he glances at Jason, sees the way he's watching you, the way his fingers absently trace circles into your thigh, the way he looks so calm, so sated—he knows Jason feels the same.

Jason, who for the first time in years, isn't holding himself back. Jason, who had spent the last two hours running through every memory of you in his head, trying to figure out how he went so fucking long without having you like that, how he ever convinced himself to not want you. Because he did.

And he won't fucking say it, won't admit it, won't even let the thought settle too deep in his chest, but yeah. Yeah, he feels it, too.

He watches as you swipe a thumb across your lips, catching a stray bit of sauce, your lashes fluttering with exhaustion as you sink deeper into Dick's side, and something inside him tightens.

Because this isn't just some random hookup. This isn't just some heat of the moment bullshit he can brush off and forget. This is you. And fuck, if that doesn't scare the shit out of him.

He exhales, dragging a hand through his hair before reaching for another slice, and Dick glances at him, something knowing flickering behind those bright blue eyes.

But neither of them say anything. Because there's nothing to say. Nothing needs to be said. This was the first time the three of you crossed the boundaries of your friendship.

But not the last.

[incognit0slut]

Permanent attachment

in which you’re far too comfortable to move from Spencer’s lap, and he doesn’t mind carrying you around

content: fluff, 1.7k, established relationship, lots of kissing, sex talk, kinda fade-to-black smut, reader being very clingy, and spencer’s tummy (my fav) a/n: i once told @mandarinmoons that i wanted to climb the man and not even in a sexual way and she said “like a koala?” and to that i answered YES! self-indulgent fics are the best

Spencer smells nice. Like, annoyingly nice. And it’s not the kind of nice that’s vaguely pleasant. No, this is the kind that settles into your bones. A mix of soap and something uniquely him that you can't quite name but would probably pay an unreasonable amount to bottle up.

Now that sounds like a dream. Imagine Spencer in a bottle, spritzed onto your neck, lingering on your skin. Imagine a personal cloud of him following you everywhere, with top notes of freshly brewed coffee and a base note of comfort that leaves you no choice but to lean in just a bit closer. You shift on his lap, pretending to get comfortable, but really, it's because you want to catch another whiff.

Your boyfriend catches you mid-inhale. "Comfortable?"

You don’t even bother pretending to be embarrassed. Who cares if he knows you’re borderline obsessed? Who wouldn’t be? He’s smart, handsome, and smells like heaven bottled in human form. So instead of pulling away, you double down, pressing your nose right into the curve of his neck as your answer.

"I'm starting to think you might be a little attached.”

You sigh against his skin, “Might be? Spencer, I'm practically grafted onto you at this point. You better get used to it."

A hand runs up your spine. “Not that I’m complaining, but my legs might actually fall asleep if I don’t get up soon.”

“So dramatic,” you tease, smiling as you press a soft kiss to his jaw. The subtle scrape of his stubble tickles your lips.

“I don’t think you’ve moved an inch in the past hour.”

“I don’t even want to move an inch,” you murmur against his cheek. "I just want to stay like this. Forever. If I could just crawl under your skin and stay there, that would be perfect.”

Spencer laughs softly, the sound rumbling under your lips. You feel the warmth of his smile as he tilts his head toward you. “That sounds sweet yet incredibly creepy.”

“You know what I mean!” You slide your arms around him, weaving them across his shoulders. “I just… I want to—ugh, I don't know… squeeze you so tight you’d become part of me? Like an extension of my arm or something."

“That definitely sounds less creepy.”

“Shut up.” Your lips trace the rough scratch of his jaw, brushing along the curve until you reach the corner of his mouth. "Don’t you want someone permanently glued to you?"

“You’re definitely making a case for it.”

“Oh I’d climb you if I had to.”

His hand slides up to cup the back of your neck. “Is this where I find out you’re secretly a koala this whole time?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum against his lips, “and you’re my tall, handsome tree.”

His laughter vibrates against your mouth, and you let yourself melt into him, breathing in that comforting scent you’ve grown addicted to. You love him so much. You love him too much that your heart feels like it’s stretching to make room for all of it.

When he finally pulls back, you can’t resist reaching up to smooth your thumb over his bottom lip. “See? Permanent attachment.”

His own thumb caresses the back of your neck in lazy strokes. You're practically dissolving into him.

"I don’t have much of a choice, do I?" The tip of your nose brushes against his as you shake your head. He steals another quick peck from your lips. "I really do need to get up though.”

You pout immediately. “Why?“

“Because my throat is actually starting to feel a little dry. I could use some water.”

“Water is overrated. Stay.”

“Honey,” he croons softly, his eyes squinting with that familiar crinkle at the corners. He thinks you’re cute when you’re clingy. “The kitchen is only ten feet away.”

“Ten feet too far. Do you know the kind of emotional damage I’ll suffer if we’re apart for too long?”

“So dramatic,” he mocks back, planting a kiss on your jaw, your cheek, and you giggle when his mouth lands on the skin between your ear and your neck. “All I’m asking for is ten feet. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“I might wither away from loneliness by the time you get back.”

You feel the ghost of his smile against your skin. “I’ll be back before you even have a chance to miss me.”

“I miss you already,” you sigh when he gently nips at the soft flesh of your neck. “Maybe you should just take me with you.”

You’re mostly bluffing, half-expecting him to laugh it off because Spencer has never actually carried you before. Not that you’ve ever minded—it’s not exactly the first thing you’d expect from him. But before you can even process it, he shifts beneath you, sliding one arm under your knee and the other around your back with surprising confidence.

And just like that, the floor seems miles away as he lifts you up.

“Wait! Wait!” you laugh, clutching at his shoulders. "Spencer!"

“I thought you wanted to come along."

“I didn’t think you’d actually carry me!”

You’re met with his steady grip, and to your surprise, he’s not struggling in the slightest. Apparently, those arms are stronger than you’d given him credit for, and it’s… well, very, very attractive. He strides confidently across the apartment, and you can’t help but let out an impressed, slightly flustered, “Okay, this is actually kind of hot.”

The corners of his lips twitch upward, but he doesn’t say anything.

“I did not know you were strong enough to do this,” you comment, then a thought sneaks into your mind, “Do you think we can try this position in the bedroom?”

He looks surprised and mildly amused. “Really? While standing?”

You loop your arms tighter around his neck. “You seem perfectly capable.”

“Wouldn’t I be doing all the work?”

“I thought you liked doing all the work.”

His chest presses against yours as he lets out another laugh. “If by that you mean spoil you, then yes, I do,” he says, casting a quick glance around the room. “Can I sit you on the counter, or are you planning to keep hanging on to me?”

“Tempting, but you can put me on the counter.”

With a gentle ease, he lifts you just slightly higher and sets you down on the cool countertop. “I can still carry you around if that’s what you want.”

“I know,” you reply, reaching up to brush a stray lock of curls from his face. “I don’t want to tire you out.”

“You’re not tiring me out,” he assures you as he reaches up to grab a glass from the top shelf, arm stretching just enough to give you a teasing glimpse of his soft stomach.

You can’t help yourself. You reach over and splay your hands over that warm skin, feeling the faint tickle of the fine hair scattered down his belly that disappears into his waistband. He doesn’t flinch—he’s long used to your hands finding their way to him like this—but he does cast a sidelong look in your direction. Behave.

If he’s expecting you to follow some sense of decorum, he should know better by now. You give his stomach a gentle, almost smug pat, and shakes his head as he moves to pour himself water.

“What do you want to do after this?” he asks, glancing back at you over his shoulder. You don’t give him an immediate answer, but he’s already suggesting a few ideas for the rest of the evening.

You can’t even pretend to pay attention. Is it normal to be this obsessed with your boyfriend? Because at this point, your focus isn’t even on the words coming out of his mouth. Something about a documentary, maybe. He’s probably rattling off the details right now, but you’re entirely distracted, your eyes shamelessly zooming in on the way his forearm flexes as he holds the glass. Even the soft hair dusting over his skin is doing things to you.

He catches your blatant stare and looks at you over the rim of his glass.

“What?”

“You are so sexy.”

He almost chokes on his water. The glass clatters against the countertop as he sputters, “What has gotten into you today?”

Probably ovulation. But you simply shrug, legs swinging idly against the cabinets beneath you. “I just love you.”

The answer is simple. Words spoken with all the casual sincerity you feel, but it’s enough to melt his astonishment into affection as he strides over and slips between your thighs.

“You just love me?”

“Yeah,” you reply softly, reaching up to brush over the delicious roughness of his stubble. “Like a ridiculous amount. Probably too much.”

His heart is swelling, so full it feels like it’s about to burst. “I love you too.”

“That’s it?”

You watch as his nose twitches, the smallest hint of a smile playing at his lips before he sighs, “I love you so much, angel."

"I think you can do better than that."

He huffs a chuckle, "I love you too much," he tries again, "more than I even know what to do with."

You smile in satisfaction, a little triumphant over his exaggeration. You’ve taught him well. “Say it again.”

The wide expanse of his palms settles on your waist.

“I am madly,” he presses a kiss to your cheek, “deeply,” another finds its way to your jaw, “hopelessly,” he murmurs as he grows even closer to your lips, “in love,” he’s a breath away from yours, “with you.”

The space between you shrinks to nothing. You swallow his last words, letting them dissolve on your tongue like the sweetest confection. What begins as a delicate melding of warmth and breath quickly intensifies, as though he’s determined to steal every bit of air from your lungs. And before you know it, his hands are sliding under you.

A surprised squeal escapes your lips as he lifts your weight, and an even louder gasp follows when he carries you toward the bedroom.

You know exactly what he plans to do for the rest of the evening.

[luludeluluramblings]

tbh I’m more intrigued by the idea of college-age Reader getting pregnant while unmarried still living in the manor and NO ONE has any idea who the father is (maybe she does, but she’s withholding that for now or maybe he’s not in the picture?) and it’s the biggest freak out ever. that just seems so fucking wild and potentially hilarious to me. and nobody noticing she’s pregnant until she’s farther along? or them finding out randomly?? imagine:

damian: you look pregnant. what is wrong with you.

reader: i am pregnant though

the batfam: ????????!!!!!!!!!! and then she proposes that now that she’s old enough and starting a new chapter in her life raising a baby and all she should just move out! (cue everyone disliked that meme)

Neglected!Pregnant!Reader x Yandere!Bat Family

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Okay, I think I'm about to become a Pregnancy!Reader writer. Which, I'm not mad about. Kind think it would be fun, but I know the trope isn't for everyone. So, if it’s not your thing, I’m sorry.

A/N: Some of this is based off of things from my own pregnancies.

A/N: Oh, no. Frick, I wanna make this a series now. Check the bottom, cause I have a plot idea for this and I want opinions on it. I spiraled, this was supposed to be a quick blurb. I got carried away. Gonna build up to the yandere shenanigans because I’m turning into a writer with a million WIPs.

A/N: Tagging @skay-ali because I like their The Forgotten Daughter series.

Warnings: Fem!Reader, Very minor Yandere Themes (like barely there), minor NSFW, graphic descriptions of pregnancy and medical procedures, Vomiting.

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

You don't really remember that night it happened. But, it only happened once and after you swore you'd never drink again. The hangover after that night had been one of the worst of your short life.

In fact, the sticky feeling between your legs and bitter taste on your tongue had also added to your decision to swear of these college parties. Luckily, you have enough of your memory to remember that you and your partner from that night had both been willing even when wasted. Even if you couldn't remember their name. Or, their face.

It takes you a while to notice. One missed cycle wasn't anything to freak out about, and it was exam season. The stress had probably caused the nausea. It wasn't until you were heading down to breakfast one morning and smelled the burnt eggs in the kitchen that Stephanie had burnt that you realized something might be wrong.

You, of course, ignore it. It was just a fluke. Burnt eggs weren't appetizing to anyone. But, then you nearly faint walking through the perfume section after looking to restock your favorite bottle of scent.

The doctor you finally went to another week later had asked about your cycle and the last time you had been intimate with someone. That's when the reality of things started to set in. You hadn't even thought to do an at home test to check. Your doctor was kind though, saying they could just do a quick urine sample and blood test just to make sure. It might be something else.

The next few minutes felt like ages. But, when the Doctor came back to tell you the positive results you panicked. Not as in panicked as in you broke down, but you threw up a mask. You're good at doing that. You must get it from your father.

When she asks you if this is good news or bad news you can't help, but blurt that it's good. Great even. Which causes her to beam at you. Before you know it, you're being handed a complementary diaper bag with formula and tiny bottles while being given the rundown on your possible due date and future appointments. You nodded you're head along with the information, sliding the paper's into the diaper bag as she hands them to you.

But, then she turns to you with delight and tells you that the Ultra Sound tech has an opening and you're just far along enough they can do your first ultrasound. It'll only be a thirty minute wait.

After nodding along once more, you go back into the waiting room. Holding your new bag with white knuckles and falling into deep thought.

This is happening. But, how? Are you even fit to be a parent? You've hardly ever been loved. How are you going to love someone else? How are you going to do this? What will the family think? What will your few friends think? You don't even remember who their father is. This is impossible. You're not ready. You'll never be ready. That churning feeling is in your stomach again and you feel that single piece of toast you had for breakfast about to come back up.

The thirty minutes fly by with those thoughts in your head. They still swirl in your head as your go back into the ultrasound room.

It's dark, but the tech had few soft lights on in the room. Its actually kind of... cozy.

What's not cozy it the tech telling you that she's going to stick a wand up your bits so you could see the baby. Your eyes screwing shut at the cold invasive feeling.

But, when you open them, she turns the screen for you to see. It's almost amazing how fast the image appears on the screen.

And, their moving. Actually moving. You end up laughing at the sight, causing the screen to flicker and the little blob to move. When the nurse plays the heart beat you can feel yours stuttering in your chest.

Watching them bounce in there with each laugh, it’s easy for the next words to spill out of your mouth.

“Oh, I’m gonna love you.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

Every step after that feels remarkably less lonely. It’s not just you anymore. You have someone who you’re going to love.

You don’t bother telling the Family. Bruce would just lecture you on being reckless while the other’s would judge you for it.

Honestly, you don’t care if they did. This is your baby.

Funnily enough, for a house full of detectives and highly intelligent vigilantes no one actually notices. Not even Cassandra. It’s a bit insulting how much they don’t pay attention. But, your symptoms soon make it so you don’t care.

The waves of exhaustion, the way everything smells strong and certain things make you want to gag. Heartburn that burns your throat. The subtle cravings that make you cry when you can’t fulfill them. Thankfully you finished your exams because you were too tired to even move from your bed most mornings due to strange nightmares.

Eventually, someone does notice. And, it’s not anyone you would expect.

Of all things you cried over on the pantry floor, it had to be salt and vinegar chips. They hadn’t been what you wanted, but it was too late to go get french fries and a smoothie at this hour in Gotham. And, you stuffed them down your throat with angry tears.

It was Stephanie of all people to find you. You gave her a sharp glare when she seemed to grow wide eyed. Normally you avoid her gaze, but you were quite pissed about having chips in your mouth and not fries. As her eyes grew wider, your nose wrinkled in further annoyance at her.

Just as you’re about to tell her off, she speaks.

“Do you— um, want something else?”

It’s pitiful how fast your snarl turns into a pleading pout.

“Yes, please. I want fries. I want Jokerized fries so badly.” You practically blubber when she gives you a pointed nod towards the car garage.

It takes you a bit to get off the floor despite the fact that your bump is hardly noticeable, but Stephanie noticed the extremely subtle curve.

“How far?” She asks hesitantly, looking from the bump to your face.

You also hesitant for a moment, looking up at her with tears on your cheeks and a serious look in your eyes. “14 Weeks.”

Her eyebrows raise and a wiry pout appears on her face. “Damn. You’re smaller than I was at that time, so not fair.”

The slightly surprised that information gives you almost makes you pause. But, if you had you would’ve probably toppled back down to the pantry floor.

“Explain on the way?” You ask, still a bit nervous. The two of you had never been close since you moved into the manor less than a handful of years back.

“Sure.” She grins, leading the way.

As you both walk, she whispers. “Does Bruce know?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“Ah.” Stephanie managed to hide the winces from you.

When you two finally make into the car, you’re already feeling better about life. You’re about to have your fries, and possibly a shake too. You didn’t expect to have any company, but surprisingly it’s nice.

Stephanie drives, and get the fries to go. Munching on them as Stephanie drives you back to the manor. Her sharing her own pregnancy experience.

"Wait, so Tim dated you when you were pregnant with another dudes kid? Babe, forget being me being small, you got game."

"Damn right I do." She says smugly, stuffing her own fries in her mouth. "So, um, do you wanna talk about what happened with you?"

And, just like that your mood shifts.

"No."

"Oh- Oh! I'm sorr-" She starts up, and you can tell she's assuming the worst.

"Don't you start, Stephanie." You interrupt with a pointed glare. "I don't want to talk about it because it's none of y'all's business."

That makes her cough on her french fry. "Wait, wait, what do you mean? Don't you want help?"

"Nah, I got it." Comes your stubborn reply, glaring out the window as you dip your fry into the cheesecake milkshake.

"... You should tell Bruce." She suggest after a moment of awkward silence.

"What? So he can ignore his grandchild, too?" Your filter is none existent with your hormones all out of wack.

"He doesn't ignore you-"

"Oh, yes the fuck he does." Your firmly state. Growing a bit heated. "Y'all all figgin do."

Stephanie is about to roll her eyes, chalking your words to you just being unreasonable. But, then the thought starts to creep upon her with each passing building when she realizes this is the first time she's actually hung out with you. Ever.

"I'm sorry." She murmurs to you. The silence falling over you both as the cars continues back to the manor.

"... I'm only forgiving you because you bought my fries..."

"Really?! That's all I had to do?"

"What? I was desperate for this- Wait! Hang on. Stop the car. Stop the car-"

"What? Why?! Are you- OH! Fuck!"

You ended up regurgitating up all the fries you had just eaten. Right into your lap.

"Oooo, that's nasty." Stephanie says, cracking the windows.

"Is it bad that I still want to eat them?" You mumble to her, eyeing the remaining fries.

"Please, please, wait till we get back or I'm gonna hurl, too."

"Fine." Comes your reply. Your eyes drifting shut for a moment. "If you tell anyone I'm gonna tell Cassandra about your crush on her."

"How did you- Frick, you are more like Bruce then I realize." Her voice going from panic to begrudging realization.

"Now, that's offenseive."

"Oh, come on. You're kids gonna have some of Bruce's DNA too."

"Eww. Eww. Don't remind me."

The banter between you both coming back with ease.

When you make it back to the manor, parting ways for the night. You feel at ease. You may have made have finally made a new friend in all this and gained a pillar of support.

As you shower and finish off your fries, you can't help but think about the apartments you had been looking at. Wondering what Stephanie will thinking of your nursery ideas.

Down in the cave, Stephanie slowly walks down the steps. Realizing this might have just gotten complicated.

"You okay, Steph?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.”

☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️

A/N: Soooooo, what if, and hear me out, wee add some baby daddy drama to this?

A/N: Please note, I write a Reader that DID NOT grow up with the Bat Family, which means we could have some really really juicy drama here. But, we could just keep the options limited to just close friends of the Bat family.

A/N: What do y'all think? Baby Daddy drama? One of the Bat Boys the Daddy? One of the other vigilantes? Should I do a Baby Daddy poll? I just feel like this is an opportunity.

A/N: Also, Stephanie was a teen mom in some comics from my research. Which I think adds to this and gives her a better chance of bonding with Reader until shit goes down.