#yeah his eyes are just pretty he's just pretty we know this you know this there's so many photos of his eyes and all of them are gorgeous

[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.

[lacyblades]

౨ৎ plumber!toji had quite the looks. that just happened to be a plus when you hired him. after all, it's not like you knew what he looked like, when you texted his business number a time and place.

it wasn't your fault. it wasn't your fault that your boring, workaholic husband was always at work. what were you to do? a pretty, bored housewife — one left all alone at home.

"it's the pipes," you say, soft and breathy. as if you aren't dreaming up the nastiest things that could ever come to mind, eyes roving his fit body. pipes, ones that you'd messed with. there wasn't that much leakage, at least not that you could see.

you think. to be honest, you're hardly aware of how much harm you've inflicted onto them.

you're just a little lady, so, what do you know about these things? instead, you lead him to the cabinets underneath the kitchen sink, leaning back against the counter, pretending to be concerned, as he takes a look.

it takes him less than two minutes to realize the damage was dealt on purpose, to which he responds with a roll of his eyes. "if you wanted to fuck, should've just said somethin'."

and, well, that's how you end up with toji's hips snapping brutally against your ass, the cool slab digging into your skin. your palms are damp with the slick of your sweat, desperately trying to ground yourself, as he rams into you relentlessly.

"this — oh, fuck — is want you wanted, yeah? f- fuckin' better take it." the empty house is filled with the lewd sound of squelching, accompanied by a plap, plap, plap!

he groans, dark hair sticking to his brow. "damn husband of yours, he doesn't fuck you good, huh? you're wrecked already, and we just started."

you can't muster a response, whimpering instead. it spurs him on, his cruel pace only increasing. one of his hands are tangled in your hair, yanking back. the other is digging into your hip, sure to leave bruises in the morning.

his cock stretches you out wholly, forcing yourself to mold to the shape of his thick length. your cunt clenches around his, the fluttering hole doing the best it can. you hardly even last long, body tensing.

"shit, ma, you gonna cum, already? cum on my cock, like some slut?" he sneers, right by your ear. he fucks you hard and greedy, driving into you repeatedly.

"mm—! t- toji," you cry, velvety walls squeezing him tight. your body seizes, and you tremble violently, gushing onto his dick. his stamina? it lasted far longer than yours, and he didn't let up, not until he was shooting ropes into your pussy. overstimulated and fucked-out, you'd lost count of how many times he'd pulled orgasms out of you, waiting for his own to come.

and, when he finally leaves (hours, upon hours, later), you realize he never quite fixed the pipes. oh, well. at least, you had a reason to call him back over, right?

[silentiumdelirium]

Eddie’s heart racing and hands sweating when both Robin and Steve looked at him, now that they stopped screaming at eachother and remembered that he was with them in a room. The thing between Eddie and Steve was still very new so they hadn‘t really talked about what they were. Also Eddie had no idea when you should have THE TALK and just thought Steve would be the one to initiate it. Because Steve had definitely more expierence with realtionships than Eddie. Also more expierence with guys for that matter he had never been very secretive about it and now Eddie understands why. Wtf why havent they talked about that???

„Uhm steve but you do know that I‘m gay right?“ Eddie asks his voice sounding hoarse because of his dry mouth.

Steve looks at him completely bewiliderd. „What why did you not say something?“

Eddie almost laughs because this feels so surreal. „Well I thought I was pretty clear when I kissed you on the mouth with tongue!!!“ He screams and there are now tears in his eyes.

Steve just shrugs „Culd still be just a dude kiss u know?“ As if thats a totally normal thing to say.

„A dude kiss???“, Robin screams. „For fucks sake we really need to get that last jock braincell out of your head!!!“

Steve sighs und looks at them confused. „But how could I be gay? I mean I liked a lot of girls!“

Robin sounds like she wants to strangle him right and there while Eddie feels like he will pass out any second.

Finally Robin says: „Steve I know that but that still doesnt have to mean your straight maybe you just like both?“ She doesnt sound so sure either when Steve looks at her with big eyes.

„WHAT??? thats possible???“

Eddie cuts in because robin looks a bit lost herself:

„Yes Steve the word you‘re looking for is bisexual and I really dont wanna step into your sexuality crisis but I would like to know if you really like me or not because I for sure really like YOU so now I feel pretty dumb and obviously I don’t want to force you in a gay relationshio but I think then we have to stop with the kissing and sex stuff and just be friends again…“

„SEX STUFF???“, Robin just screams while Eddie rambles on.

„Eddie“, Steve stops his rambling and lays a hand on his shoulder. „Okay maybe I didn‘t really know what my sexuality is but I do know that I really like you and I like to kiss you very much and I love hanging out with you and falling asleep next to you and now that I think bout it this feels the same like when I had a crush on Nancy and I fucked that up real bad so I dont want to fuck this up with you okay?“

Eddie can now feel tears streaming down his face and he just gets out a sobbing „okay“ when Steve takes his face in both of his eyes and comes very close and whispers:

„Can I kiss you now? In like a very not straight way?“

Eddie sobs and grins: „fuck yeah!“

Their kiss is soft and salty full of both of their tears and Robin wants to scream at them but she can‘t because their so adroble. As soon as they let go of eachother, which takes a lifetime, Robin groans: „I can’t beliebe you had your first gay kiss when you were like twelve and now you even have your frist gay relationship and I havent even been kissed once ugh why I am friends with you!“ before she attacks steve and gives him a bone crushing hug.

Steve isn’t bisexual, he just engages in behaviors such as mutual masturbation and make out sessions with his male friends.

Steve discovers this is not normal when playing truth or dare and Robin asks who his first kiss was.

“Tommy.”

“Excuse me, what?”

“It’s Tommy?”

“You’re not straight?”

“Guys do that all the time, you don’t understand.”

“If you don’t like men, Steve, you don’t want to kiss them. Are you saying you have repeatedly engaged in homosexual behavior?”

“Uh”

“Have you kissed men or engaged in sexual behaviors with them?”

“I mean, what counts as sexual behavior?”

“It’s gay if you need clarification. I don’t need to know what happened, but you are not straight.”

“So, what have I been doing with Eddie?”

“WHAT THE- EDDIE?”

[mageofmadness]

◞♡ nsfw

caleb’s definitely a just the tip type of guy you cannot tell me he wouldn’t beg for it like anywhere and everywhere all the damn time. does not matter where you are, what time it is, etc. sometimes he doesn’t even care to come...he’s not trying to fuck you and fill you up, he just wants inside of your cunt because it’s been a long day and surely you missed him too and he can’t help it, it’s his favorite place to be. so warm and you’re always so wet and sweet and he’s got such a silver tongue “just the tip, honey. i’m sorry, you just look so good. i can’t stand it...can’t wait ‘til we get back home" so of course you agree because you did miss him, but you also know his tricks by now and it’s hardly ever just the tip.

sure, it might start that way. maybe you’re pressed up against the bathroom wall, having both slipped out during an important work gala because “i didn’t like the way they were looking at you. i haven’t left your side all night, who do they think they are?” and you know you don’t have enough time to fuck so you agree because caleb looks so handsome, how could you deny him anything? he hurriedly hikes your dress up and you give him some credit when he lifts your hip, notching the tip of his cock against your hole, but then he presses in and in and in until the tip he’d promised is so deep inside of you, your legs are starting to shake.

“im sorry, fuck. i-i'm sorry, i can't help it. fuck, how are you so tight? always so tight. it’s not my fault, baby. if you didn’t want me this deep, why are you trying to fuck yourself back on my cock, huh?” and you are. you're squirming and trying to adjust to his size and now you wish he’d move instead of pinning you against the wall with his cock splitting you open.

or maybe you’re on the couch, worn out after a long day, and he’s promising just the tip. nothing more this time...he swears.

“you don’t have to do anything, baby. i know you’re tired, i’m sorry. i know, it’s been so long, though, honey. please, pips. all i could think about all day was coming home to you and you smell so nice and and and…” and maybe caleb really does mean it this time, but either way, he always takes care of you. he can have whatever he wants.

his cock is so heavy when the tip rests against your hole, both of you already weeping for it, and he groans, sliding in just enough. he starts to jerk his cock as you whine on the couch, moving your hips because now you want more and right now is the time caleb decides to stick to his word?

“stop moving, baby. fuck, look at that…look at you. you want it that bad? but i promised, didn’t i?” he moans, and you writhe, feeling the jerky movements of the tip of his cock, your cunt begging for something to fill it but he doesn’t. caleb doesn’t give in this time, having to shush you because this is unfair. how dare he suddenly deprive you, and when he comes, he comes with his cock pressed just enough inside of you for nothing to spill out. admiring his work, panting, “thank you, fuck. missed you so much, baby. gonna make you come now, kay? don’t think i forgot about you...just needed to come in this pretty hole. what? i just gave you...oh, you want it it all? my whole cock? you’re the one always saying ‘just the tip’ sweetheart, you’ve gotta be more clear, then.”

you have half a mind to argue with him, opening your mouth to explain clearly you guys both have a moderation issue, but he’s sliding into you a moment later, filling you up in one swift thrust. his last load slicks the way, and you whine. you whimper. it’s so much more than just the tip, his entire cock filling you up as caleb grins, knowing he won this game that’s not really even a game.

“there you go, yeah? maybe you'll remember this moment the next time you roll your eyes, telling me 'just the tip,' and acting like you don’t want it, pips.”

[issues4him]

Angst idea what about running into one of blue collar Rafes old girlfriends and sahm reader gets a little jealous 😬🤔😔

blue collar!rafe runs into his ex girlfriend at the grocery store with you & the kids

cw: jealousy

you hadn’t expected to see her. it was a quick stop after the park—just you, rafe, and the kids grabbing a few things from the grocery store. wren was hanging off the cart, hunter was babbling in the seat, and emmett had just wandered two aisles away trying to sneak fruit snacks into the basket. you were tired, your back ached, your hair was in a messy bun, and your shirt had a faint smear of applesauce from breakfast. it wasn’t exactly your finest hour.

then—her. long legs, styled hair, glossy lips. tight jeans and a fitted top that didn’t look a day out of place. she looked fresh. confident. like she hadn’t been up at 3 a.m. wiping spit-up off her collarbone. and the second her eyes lit up and she said, “rafe?”

you knew.

“oh—hey, lauren,” he said with that easy smile, pushing the cart to a stop. “been a while.”

you stood frozen beside him, holding a pack of diapers in one hand, suddenly very aware of your chipped nail polish and bare face. she smiled at you, polite and breezy, “oh my gosh—i had no idea you guys were still together that’s amazing!.”

you nodded, forcing a smile, “yeah, we—yeah.”

they didn’t talk long. just a quick, harmless catch-up. a “how’s your family” and “what’ve you been up to” kind of thing. he didn’t flirt. he didn’t overstep, but he smiled. he looked comfortable. and that smile—that warmth in his voice—it made something twist in your gut in a way you couldn’t explain.

she walked away after a few minutes with a soft “well, it was good seeing you, rafe.”

and rafe just kept pushing the cart like nothing happened.

you didn’t say anything at first. not in the store. not in the car. not even while unloading groceries into the fridge later that afternoon. but the longer the silence stretched, the heavier it felt on your chest. and when rafe leaned against the counter with a cold drink and said, “what’s goin’ on with you?”—you cracked, “do you still think about her?”

he blinked, “what?”

“your ex, lauren…from the one from the store.” you tried to sound casual, but your voice betrayed you. too quiet. too small. “you seemed… i don’t know. happy to see her.”

rafe stared at you for a long second. then he set his drink down and crossed the room until he was standing right in front of you, “baby,” he said, tilting your chin up with two fingers. “i said hi. that’s all. i wasn’t happy to see her. i was just bein’ polite.”

you looked away, shrugging, “she’s pretty.”

“so are you.”

“she looked like she had her life together.”

“she looked like someone who doesn’t spend every day takin’ care of three kids and lovin’ the hell outta her family.” his voice was soft now, but firm. grounded, “you think i’d trade what we have for some old memory? for someone i left behind a lifetime ago?”

he leaned in, brushing your hair away from your face, “i don’t want her. i don’t think about her. haven’t thought about her like that since i was sixteen. you’re it for me. you and these babies,” he kissed your forehead, “don’t go comparin’ yourself to people who ain’t walked through the fire with me. she wasn’t there when i was bustin’ my ass in the rain tryin’ to make rent. she didn’t hold my hand when any of our kids were born. she doesn’t get to touch this life we built.”

you closed your eyes, the tears stinging a little at the corners, “i just felt small today,” you admitted.

he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you tight into his chest, “then i didn’t do my job. ‘cause you should never feel small, baby. not in this house. not with me.” now you knew it wasn’t about her. it was about everything you carried—motherhood, exhaustion, the invisible weight of keeping it all together. but rafe held you through it. kissed your cheek and whispered, “you’re the only girl i’ve ever been proud to come home to.”

and that was enough. always was.

[mamawasatesttube]

im sick (again :/) so we're on silly time lockdown. please enjoy tim experiencing the consequences of pissing off a drunk wizard (get psychic blasted idiot)

“Kon, I could really use you here, if you’re”—Cassie grunts with some kind of effort—”not busy.”

The wind whistles past Kon’s ears as he picks up speed, leaving the golden fields of wheat behind. Cassie’s voice reaches him the slightest instant faster as he gets closer to Titans’ Tower:

“It’s nothing, like, life-threatening, but I promised my mom I’d—Tim, stop wiggling!—I promised my mom I’d help her out with this big thing at the museum tonight, and—”

Kon barely alights on the rooftop and zooms down into the common room, not bothering to actually let his feet touch the ground until he’s there. And then he blinks.

“What’s… er, what’s up?”

“Oh, thank the gods.” Cassie, holding a squirming bundle of black fabric, breathes a sigh of relief. She shoves the blob at Kon, who belatedly realizes that it’s Tim, wrapped up in his own cape like a delinquent cat in a towel at the vet. “This is your problem now.”

“Kon!” Tim sounds overjoyed, albeit muffled by cloth. “You’re here!”

“Uh… yes. Hi?” Kon turns the cape bundle in his arms to locate Tim’s face, flushed from struggling hopelessly against Cassie. The moment Tim’s eyes fall on Kon’s face, he lights up with a brilliant smile.

“Hi,” Tim says, and wiggles in Kon’s arms. “Hi, Kon!”

Okay, something is definitely wrong with him. “That’s me,” Kon agrees, and looks back over at Cassie. “Why is he in the punishment burrito?”

Cassie gives Tim a long-suffering look and rakes her hand through her hair. “Because,” she says, “after the third time he forgot his grapple line is broken and tried to climb out the window anyway, I got sick of his shit.”

“Kon,” Tim says, wriggling some more. He hasn’t stopped beaming. “Hi. You’re Kon.”

“I sure am,” Kon agrees, raising an eyebrow. Since he has the showstopping, awesomely handy-dandy power of TTK, he lets Tim get his arms free of his cape, just to see what he’ll do; to his surprise, all Tim does is grab two handfuls of the back of Kon’s jacket, then buries his face in his shoulder and hums in contentment.

“Kon,” Tim says again, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder. “You’re nice.”

“I do my best to be, yeah.” Kon pats Tim’s head, bewildered and a little amused. “Cass, what happened to him?”

Cassie buries her face in her hands. “We may have kiiiind of pissed off a wizard? And then there was, um… well, it turns out he specialized in psychic blasts, and he may have announced that by zapping the shit out of Tim?”

Zapping—

Alarmed, Kon looks down at Tim, sweeping him over with X-ray vision. No broken bones or any immediate damage sticks out; he doesn’t even have a bump on his head to show. But he’s sure acting weird! He’s still nuzzling Kon’s shoulder like a cat, not even trying to get out of his grasp. 

What does that even mean? Kon doesn’t know anything about how to help with psychic injuries! What if the damage is permanent? What’s gonna—

“Okay, okay, chill, whoa!” Cassie holds up her hands quickly. “That’s your doom and gloom freakout face, whoa, I promise it’s not all that bad! I already got him checked out, Raven said he’s gonna be fine, it’s just—he’s just gonna be a little loopy for a bit until it wears off, that’s all.”

Loopy, huh? That sure is an apt descriptor. Kon shifts Tim in his arms, absently rubbing his back; Tim hums in contentment, boneless against his chest. Honestly, Kon’s amazed that Cassie needed to punishment burrito him.

“Okay, so…” Kon glances down at Tim again, then back to Cassie. “I just gotta watch him for a bit, make sure he doesn’t try to climb out any windows?”

“Yeah! Pretty much.” Cassie shifts her weight, rakes her hand through her hair, and glances at the clock on the wall. “I’m super sorry to dump this—Tim—on you and run, but I promised my mom I’d help out with the museum charity gala thing tonight and I gotta be there to help the setup crews in, like, twenty minutes, and…”

Kon waves her off. “Hey, it’s no big! S’not like Tim and I don’t like to hang out. Right, buddy?”

Tim lifts his head, looks at Cassie, and puffs up his chest importantly. He jerks a thumb at himself and announces, “I’m Kon’s buddy.”

Cassie stares at him, unimpressed, and raises her eyes to the high heavens. “Yeah, Tim, you sure are.”

[iqxatlantic]

" LOVE IS (NOT) EASY ! "

it's easier to say we're just friends, our generation made us that way.

mmm multi chara drabble(s)/hcs/imagines

ft. michael kaiser . itoshi rin . isagi yoichi . reo mikage . karasu tabito . pretty much v ooc! characters . desperate! reader + characters . fwb situation . suggestive . aged up! characters !! . fluff (?) . confessions . mentions of sex . these men r highkey losers . uni/college au! . gn! reader (slightly implied afab! reader) . unreliable narrator .

wc : 1.7k

it just happened... you replied to his story on instagram (or vice versa) and then bam! you two were talking. it's odd in this day and age. we all crave love like it’s a lifeline, yet when it finds us, we pull away as if it’s a trap.

isn't that funny.? these men... they're quite charming. you're even thankful that he replied. days go by, texting, texting n texting. don't you get tired?

those days became a month or two. you've gotten pretty close with him. remind me — how'd texting him daily become being in his bed?!

itoshi rin is someone and something. he may seem cold and blunt but, under that demeanor he's the sweetest guy you've ever talked to. took a little while to have him warm-up to you. it was worth it.

for a while you've been sleepin' with each other. this night in particular — the atmosphere was different. the usual pull of lust was tangled with something unfamiliar, something raw and real.

weird. it's never been like that before. i mean, you were just friends with benefits, right? "rin?" you'd softly call out. "yeah?" rin would reply.

"uhm. i think i have a confession." you sheepishly muttered, clutching his shirt towards your chest a little firmer. "oh. me too." he once again, replied.

"oh you go first-" "nah, you go first." "c'mon rin, just go first. mine's a little embarrassing..!" "mine is as well!" "yeah but you're-"

with that, rin took a sharp inhale. bracing himself for the worst, he let the following words slip out, "[name], i think — mmm. no. i know i've got feelings for you. i actually really like you. i dunno if we should continue this or not — not the healthiest." (RIN?? YOU'RE TALKING HEALTHY R WE FR.)

"rin!" a small laugh slipped out your mouth. guess you braced yourself for nothing. you were afraid, well not anymore. you replied, "i have feelings for you as well! maybe we should have something else as a relationship, just not this."

"[name], let me be yours."

reo mikage is a man who knows what he wants and gets what he wants. (lmfao daddy gets what daddy wants ahh energy) so why was it one night, after having an emotionally crazy night with you, he realized something? why'd he realize that he genuinely likes you? why?

"reo?" your sweet voice softly mumbling. he'd turn to you, replying in a disgustingly raspy voice in return. "yeah, [name]?" "nothing, got scared you left or something."

reo couldn't bear suppressing his feelings and emotions anymore. hell, he constantly did so! taking a fat breath in, he exhaled. preparing himself to confess.

thing is — reo found himself unable to speak up. shit. he was getting a little upset. why weren't things going the way he wants it to? finally pushing himself out to say what he's been dying since day 1.

"uhm, [name]. i jus' hope you know-" you cut him short. "what happened to mr. confident?" you smiled, playfully. he rolled his eyes at you sassily, "hush, let me finish." "waiting."

"okay. i hope you know i genuinely like you. you're gorgeous, sweet, passionate ... you're not boring at all. i actually have to try and get you. that's why you're so interesting. that's why i want you." (wow reo what a confession *claps hands*)

you looked at him, jaw DROPPED. never in your life did you expect to have THE mikage reo confess to you. i mean, sleeping with him was one but CONFESSIONS?!!?! good god, you were on cloud 9.

problem was, reo knew his parents would never approve. ah, whatever. worth a shot.

"give me a chance, [name]."

mmm, isagi yoichi. this man has PURE intentions. he never expected himself to be able to sleep with someone as lovely as you are. hell, he never expected himself to even be able to TALK with you!

truth be told — this silly little guy STRUGGLES... constantly trying to subtly impress you. he's failing, but you find it cute. he's shy, let him slide!! (i can see the pain in ur eyes...)

laying in his bed after the night, you turned to your side to face him. "yoi, you're so cute. y'know that right?" you're killing him with your words.

isagi's flushed. he's bright red. what a contrast between his dark blue eyes lmfao. caught in the moment, he let a few words slip out. ones that weren't in his current favour.

"[name], the only cute one is you — i- oh my god." he's fumbling. he's FUMBLING. (he aint we all love loser boys heh... what is this moischaracterization isa arent u trying to cook for eng wtf is going on) you were intrigued. you kept listening. you really freaking like this man too lmfao.

"gosh, fine. i'll just say it, i like — no. i love you, [name]! you're so pretty n admirable and gosh..." let the poor guy talk, why are you suddenly so bold? he's staring at your plush thighs. remembering how they were around his waist and and...

"[name], can i be your boyfriend?!"

michael kaiser, let's see. he's deathly terrified of love. i personally see him as the lyric of "typa friends to fuck but when they fall in love they're too afraid to stay." (holy coew this ones rlly ooc! bro)

hear me out, kaiser suffered a traumatic childhood. yes — thought basic/common, nonetheless traumatic. he's constantly being told over and over again that he was never supposed to be born — born unwanted.

hence why, he's afraid of love. he can't even love himself. he's afraid to turn out just like his father. he's afraid to turn out like his parents. he's afraid of returning to who he was before.

he doesn't know how to love. he wants to he swears! so were those "i love you's" when you to got intimate lies?

propping his head on his hand, he stared at you. admiring you and your beauty. "ugh...mihya? what are we?" you asked. "i know yeah, friends with benefits but... i feel like theres more to it than lust.."

at that moment, kaiser froze. his throat went dry. "ah, um." he coughed, trying to get his composure. "quite a question to ask, liebling." he thought about it. he's thought of this multiple times. answer them.

"uh- ahem. well..." kaiser couldn't get himself to speak. what a question to ask after having him in between your legs huh.? those deep azure eyes staring straight at you.

whilst the emperor pondered, kaiser's gaze trailed over you—slow and deliberate. oh, the moonlight kissed the thin sheen of sweat on your skin, making it glisten in such a way that had his thoughts straying far from innocent! (kaiser my guy calm down u j got freaky..)

his tongue clicked as he took in every slick curve, every rise and fall of your breath. he couldn't help but let a small whistle out. "mihya. snap out of it. answer me."

"listen. uhm." he mumbled. that's odd coming from such an arrogant and cocky man. what happened to that demeanor? "ugh, it's easier to say we're just friends, okay?" a frustrated sigh came out of the both of you.

"well, fuck." you replied, turning onto your back. "wait, [name]. i'm sorry." kaiser apologized. "i'm scared, okay? i'm terrified," he confessed. "i'm horrified if i hurt you if i-"

"shut it, michael." you demanded. "it'll hurt the both of us if you don't tell me the truth." you continued.

with a reluctant sigh, he agreed. opening his mouth as if the words were stuck, fighting their way out. his gaze softened, and for a moment, there was something vulnerable in his eyes — almost like he didn’t want to say it, but knew he had to.

"scheiße, i can't hide anything from you can i? fine. i like you. ich liebe dich sehr." he mumbled sheepishly. you cringed a little. "german? seriously? say it in english."

"needy as hell, sure. i love you a lot." kaiser slipped out, his pride slipping with the words LMFAOOO. kaiser didn't expect you to say anything — he didn't even expect you to accept his feelings.

"hey, mihya. i like you too. sorry. i love you a lot as well," you smiled softly at him. "i'm afraid of love too but-"

"[name], let's be afraid together. let's overcome this. together. can i be yours?"

ah, yes karasu tabito. my glorious king. don't let his horrible habit of looking down at people as mediocre get to you. trust me, he thinks you as everything BUT mediocre. kinda weird for him since, he only found one person intriguing.

he's confident with himself, or so he pretends to be. you see through that demeanor so quickly. snap of the fingers and you have him figured.

laying in his sheets, you took in his appearance. noting the mole under his left eye, how hair looks ungelled... it was so messy after you kept tugging and pulling on those soft, dark purple locks.

"hey, tabito.?" you cautiously opened your mouth. "y'know how you always think you're mediocre deep down.?"

he gulped, fixing his gaze onto you. "what makes ya think that?" he denied, laughing nervously. you stared at him like 'are we serious? i know what you are.'

the assassin sighed. the moment he was going to speak, he was cut off short. "you're not mediocre at all, by the way. i think you're genuinely a really cool guy and you should live up to your actual confidence."

"but one problem, what are we? we definitely are friends with benefits but..." you mumbled, remembering that one first love theory. you realized there's a good chance you'd never compare to marisa </3 (MARISA GIRL ILY)

"y'know i can tell what yer thinkin' of right? yer pretty easy to assess, [name]." he uttered. before you could grab a handful of his hair, you were stopped.

"truth be told, i'm madly in love with you, 'kay? i can't find myself to genuinely be with you other than sleepin' 'round with ya. i don't think i'm worthy."

"i'd love to be yours though, [name]."

— ©iqxatlantic / isaisliterallyhim, 2025

tags !! : @narcjsistx (get ur man reo..), @kxsagi (GET UR MAN EESAGI !!)

a/n: ya ik lots of mischaracterization and fawking ooc! writing let me OUTTTT. bro i literally dk how to write half of these characters bye. i locked in too hard on kaiser ts what happens bruh. also before u come at me I HAD TO WRITE ISAGI AS A LOSER OK. heh... guess who my fav is...! anyways um yea no we aint even surprised this work is not proofread isa 💔💔 anyways i love love is not easy super fire song i say as i go crazy bc i had this on loop hen i was talking to that atrocious creature of a man... anyways hope u enjoyed ! ill try posting more consistently! i comment as my psych and english assignments stare at me ready to spread my cheeks </3

[neigepomme]

Hi! Congrats on 500+ followers! If you're still doing drabbles, I'd love something with Caleb and Unconditional by Jaehyun 재현 has been giving me MAJOR Caleb vibes. For the prompt, maybe something where Caleb is absolutely whipped or obsessed? Over literally anything MC does?? Or maybe something where he just kisses everywhere on diff body parts bc "that's my sugar, I don't need no honey on the side" makes me SICK. Also, thank you for feeding the Loser Caleb agenda!! I owe u my life

˙ ✩°˖ ✈️ unconditional / caleb x reader

synopsis; caleb is hopelessly, utterly whipped for you to say the least. your very existence is something that should be admired, and he isn't shy when it comes to letting you know that.

🍎 pomme's notes — LIVE LAUGH LOVE JAEHYUN!! i miss you come back from the war jamal.. if anyone's interested in participating in my drabble event, the info is right here!

⋆ 800 words / fluff / fem reader / 2nd person

caleb always thought he was the luckiest man on earth. 

being able to be by your side, loving you — hell, you loving him back? he doesn't think it could ever get better, seeing as you're the closest thing to perfection in his mind.

so when you suggested to go on a formal date with him to a high end restaurant in skyhaven, he knew you'd look gorgeous, but holy shit.

dressed in a silk maxi dress that highlighted your body and left your face looking radiant — a dainty necklace with an apple charm he'd gifted you resting on your collarbone, you were the very definition of heaven sent.

your soft honey smell wafted through the room, and caleb could feel himself be drawn in like a bee to a flower — and lord, when you twirled to show him the entire look? lethal. absolutely devastatingly ethereal, knocked his breath right out of his lungs.

“so, how do i look?”

caleb felt like one of those old cartoon characters, his jaw almost dropping to the floor upon seeing how beautiful you looked. silently thanking whichever deity took their time crafting you, he takes hold of your hand and trails kisses up your arm, pulling a soft laugh out of you.

“like an angel. did i ever tell you how much i adore you?”

pulling him in by his collar, you leave a subtle lipstick print when you press your lips to his cheek. 

“mmh, you do so daily, loverboy.”

were you dead set on sending caleb to his grave early? it sure looked like it to him. he could feel his cheeks growing redder, and when you raised your hand to his cheek, attempting to wipe the mark you left on it, he took a step back.

“nuh-uh. that kiss is mine now — need everyone to know i belong with you, pretty girl. last i checked, it was illegal to look that good and be single, so this is just a preventative measure.”

you rolled your eyes at him playfully, smacking his chest before laughing again. did caleb mention he was the luckiest man ever? because he was. your laugh was the most delicate melody to his ears, and he'd do anything to hear it over and over again. 

“that was a lame pickup line, caleb. but if we're going by your logic, you'd be behind bars for being so handsome, too. i guess we'd be felons together, huh?”

yeah. dead set on sending him to the grave prematurely.

his cheeks were flushed, he'd be your lame boyfriend all of the damn time if it meant you kept him by your side, and god, you thought he was handsome? caleb was seeing the pearly gates of heaven already. who on this earth could ever compare to you — his one and only.

wrapping both hands around his bicep, you look up at him with those sweet eyes of yours, and he has to hold himself back from kissing you senseless. you could ask him to give you the moon, and he'd bring you the universe as a whole just to make you happy. for you, he'd break every law, give you every gift, and it wouldn't still be enough. you deserved everything, and caleb was determined to make sure you knew that his love was limitless — unconditional.

“shall we get going, boyfriend?”

he felt like an obedient dog every single time you spoke to him. sometimes, he thought that your existence was the undeniable proof of a higher being. otherwise, how could you have been this perfect? crafted by the hands of gods, your personality and physique so immaculate, it had caleb wanting to praise whoever was up in the sky.

the way you talked, the way you smiled, the way you breathed. he could find new reasons to worship your being for centuries to come and never have to repeat a reason twice.

just last week, he saw you pouting when you let him know that a girl was hitting on him, and he still couldn't wrap his head around how you could be upset. caleb only saw you, and nobody could take his gaze away from your figure. you were his, and the idea of possibly finding another? revolting. no one could take your place, no model, no ceo, absolutely nothing. the only way he'd take his eyes off you was in death, and he was not dying anytime soon — he had already made plans to stay by your side until the end of time.

“we shall, pretty lady. i would never dare dream about letting you down.”

scratch the praise — caleb had to figure out which god loved you so much and take its place. there is no way he's letting his #1 loverboy spot be taken.

🍎 pomme's final notes — CALEB LOVESICK LOSER AGENDA NEVER FAILS!! GRRAAAAAAAAAH

[ryewwww]

⚠️: coercion, dark!price, vulnerable!reader, age gap, fem!reader,

Sick and twisted, but thinking about growing up dirt poor, living in a camper with your mom until she abandoned you at 18.

She was a workaholic, went to the city to work which was about a 2 hour drive away from the small town you reside in. Your mom claimed she couldn’t afford the price of rent in the city and raising a teen, which you understood.

But when she abandoned you, it was clear that wasn’t the case. You were just a burden to her.

But what can you do?

Life goes on.

And right now, you were facing a bigger problem. In this tiny town, you were having trouble finding a job. Your mom had blind sided you and rent was due in a few days. You only had $100 to your name.

You landlords were keen on getting you kicked from their land because they found tenants that will pay more. So you packed your life away in a carry on suit-case, and got out of there.

You sat in a McDonald’s for the free wifi while searching for resources that could help you. But nothing was provided by the town, it all was located in the city. Just when you started to feel hopeless, John Price entered the picture.

He noticed the suitcase and that combined with the glum look on your pretty face, made him get off his ass to come talk to you.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself in a shit situation here.”

Your head snaps from your phone, meeting the eyes of this middle aged man. “Yeah, I do I suppose.”

“Mind if I take a seat?”

You do mind but you were meek. So you nodded.

He takes a seat, “you new to town? Not many people come down here to visit, unless you’re lost.”

“No, I grew up here. I’m just trying to figure out my living situation.” You laugh awkwardly and all Price can think about is how you made it too fucking easy.

“Sorry to hear that, bun. If you need a place to crash, I have an old rv I want to get rid of. You could have it for $1000.”

“I don’t have that much money. It’s hard, nobody’s hiring around here.”

“I live on a farm. I could always use a hand. Work for me for a couple of days, and the rv is yours.”

“Really?”

He nods.

You go back to his farm too easily, Price could only wonder if your parents ever taught you about stranger danger.

He pulls into the long driveway and you see the older rv parked in the grass. He lets you check it out and the inside was well kept. There was nothing wrong with it mechanically either so, you could take this rv to the city where you’d have a greater chance of becoming something.

You were so excited and grateful for this opportunity, it almost made Price feel bad about doing this. You were so naive to his true intentions. His intentions on keeping you on this farm, fucking a few kids into you, putting a band around your ring finger, maybe letting his buddy get a taste of you too.

He’d do shit in the most twisted ways too. Like cutting some crucial wires in your rv so now it won’t start. When he “takes a look,” he says the wildlife around must’ve chewed through it. You ask how much it would cost to repair and he gives a number you can’t even fathom.

But he knows someone who could do it. And he’ll pay for it, as long as he gets something in return. When you ask what he wants, his hand cups your chin.

“I want you to put this pretty little mouth to work.”

And you do.

He keeps fucking shit up in your rv while you’re busy combing the horses hair or feeding the chickens. When you come back, your generator isn’t working and it’s freezing.

“How much will it cost to fix the generator?” You ask softly, looking over his shoulders while he “attempted” to fix it.

He stands, “we can talk about it inside.” The “talk” ends up with you warming his bed, his hands on your waist guiding you to ride him faster.

Things kept breaking in your rv and you kept getting quieter because of it. John could see the hope that once lit up your eyes was withering away. So he decided to call his mechanic just to get a little spark from you.

Too bad for you, when mechanic!Simon lays his eyes on you, he gives Price a knowing look.

You weren’t going any fucking where.

Another unedited blurb. If you want more, let me know :)))

[gracieabrmslvr]

⌗ youtuber!reader and hamzah’s first time meeting ( part three) ᝰ.ᐟ

yourusername

yourusername, hi new yt video out now w/ mandy my baby and also two weird people named hamzah & martin? They kinda smell but yk what #charity

view comments…

username, IM SLUSHING EVERYWHERE.

username, wait this be the crossover of the century

hamzahthefantastic, Shorty trifling 😭

⤿ yourusername, bye

⤿ username, the way he keeps calling her shorty even in the video

mandys_iphone, new loml🤗 i Love you!!!!

⤿ yourusername, MANDYYY

⤿ thatkidmartin, So actually no because im the loml Mandy 😖😖😤😤😤

mari3theeditor, yay!!

⤿ yourusername, my bestfriend 🥹

⤿ username, I love how their bestfriends + roommates + she’s her editor

enyaumamzor, So cute

drewphillips09, New man? Period he fine

⤿ yourusername, Ikr

⤿ username, CONFIRMED?

username, THE THUMBNAIL IS ADORABLE

⤿ yourusername, @mari3theeditor is amazing

username, so let’s talk about the not so subtle flirting …

⤿ username, WAS WAITING FOR THIS COMMENT. they were so obvious

username, hi the matching sonny angels 🥹

⤿ username, HER AND HAMZAH COMPARING THEM I CANNOT HANDLE THIS.

“ im actually pretty scared” you speak out of the blue, shivering in the cold as you and marie make your way to martin’s apartment. “ why be nervous— you’re a cool and sexy girl” marie replies back

switching the bag from your left arm to your right, you laugh “ yeah but what if they think im a total weirdo?! you know if that was me and some chick started ranting about me on twitter… i would be weirded out too!!” you exclaim, checking your phone for the apartment number.

“ just be yourself— there is nothing to worry about” marie ensures you, pressing the elevator button. you exhale a deep breath, fidgeting slightly with the necklace tied around your neck

you pick up your phone, pressing on mandy’s contact name ( you had recently gotten her number via instagram dms) and calling it. after a few rings, a sweet mandy appears through the phone, “ im guessing youre already here but don’t wanna ring the doorbell?”

you laugh nodding your head, “ it’s like you know me already!” and before you knew it, the door opened to a welcoming blonde girl, pulling you then marie into a hug. “ im so excited to meet you oh my gosh” mandy exclaims as you agree with her

“ i know! it’s crazy that i have lived in toronto my whole life and neber once met any of you” you say stepping into her house, “ this is my bestfriend marie” you introduce marie to mandy who had already gave her a hug.

the two begin to chit chat, mostly small talk as you place your bags down. fixing your camera to your liking, looking and fixing the settings. “ shit” you whisper under your breath as you click on the wrong setting.

“ you need help?” you hear from besides you as you gasp taken by shock, looking at the used to be curly haired boy. “ it’s nice to meet you” you said giving the camera to hamzah as he smiles shyly. “ yup you too” he replies as he avoids your eye contact, a faint pink on his cheeks

“ hello my fellow youtuber” before you could turn around martin gives you a hug as you laugh “ hey martin” hamzah rolls his eyes at martins antics, handing you back your camera “ done”

“ thank you” you smile at him, the four of you going behind the counter, marie pressing record. “ hi guys and welcome back to baking with the helpless!” you smile at the camera, martin and hamzah side eye each other. you sigh eyes widening at them, “ oh i forgot! the beautiful mandy!” you point hands to her gesturing as martin does a deep sigh

“ before we all get started… i brought you guys gifts!” you smile at all three of them grabbing your bag, revealing a sonny angel for each + you. “ oh hell naw not these ugly ass babies” mandy nudges martin, “ shutup— these are so cute.”

you hand hamzah his as he sarcastically rolls his eyes taking it. “ not the naked babies Girl” he smirks looking at you, thinking back to his instagram comment. you jokingly roll your eyes looking down as you laugh mumbling a soft shutup. not catching mandy and martin’s side eye

“ open open open!!” you repeat as the four of you unbox your angel. you excitedly rip the package open, eye widening seeing you got the white cat sonny angel as you pout. “wait this is cute” you show the camera

martin and mandy seem to get a bunny and a lamb, gushing on how cute they really are. “ okay i. get the hype now” martin says as you and mandy laugh. you look at hamzah, “ take any slower” you say, hamzah side eyes you, “ shutup shorty” although sounding hesitant, it came out his mouth smoothly. martin’s eye widen, raising one eyebrow “ this might be rizz”

“ WE GOT THE SAME ONE!” you look at the angel hamzah got. it was the same yet different colors. his was grey and yours was white. marie laughs from behind the camera, as hamzah smiles widely, you both putting your sonny angels next to each other. martin pouts jokingly scoffing, “ no! they scammed us. that’s supposed to be me and mandy” mandy side eyes him

you laugh, showing the camera both you and hamzah’s sonny angel, not noticing the look of admiration hamzah gave you from behind him….

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Dating in a Dream - Epel Felmier

SUMMARY: What would his dream be like, exactly the same as in the original story, but with the small detail that he is dreaming that he is your boyfriend?

CHARACTERS: Epel Felmier x Reader 🍎🦐

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; In a Relationship (kinda)

WARNING: Spoilers from Book 7 and Epel’s dream (Eng Server)

WORD COUNT: 1.530 words

COMMENTS: As English is not my first language I asked Gemini for help with Epel's dialect/accent. This was written as a companion piece to the original dream story, so the parts that are the same as the game are just summarized.

I would like to do a series with this whenever the dreams are released on the English Server, since this is the one I'm following the story on. Unfortunately, I won't be able to do it with diasomnia, but maybe I'll think of a different but similar promp, let's see how the story goes.

I hope you enjoy 🍎

“Aether signal tracking successful.” Ortho says when you land in the new dream, along with Grim, Silver and Sebek. “We have arrived at the designated coordinates.”

You're on Main Street, looking around and trying to figure out whose dream it is. That's when you hear abnormally heavy footsteps running and getting closer. You look and see an Epel's head in a body that looks more like Jack's, which made it all the more strange, uncanny, and almost hilarious.

You hear him saying something about being late and that's why he doesn't see your group. Grim was the one who had to shout to get Epel's attention.

“Ah, Grim! (Y/N)! Good morning! And behind you, Ah see... Ortho and some Diasomnia fellas Ah don't hardly know. Ah don't get why y'all're glowerin'.”

“Cease your incessant mumbling!” Sebek says.

“Huh? Ah was just... Ain't you Sebek from Class D? What's yer problem? Y'wanna start somethin' with me, huh?”

Epel approaches Sebek as if he were ready to start a fight, that's when you put yourself between the two of them to ask Epel to wait and say that there's no need for that.

“Oh, they’re yer friends? Sorry babe.”

“W-what did he call (Y/N)?” Grim asked with wide eyes, the same expression as everyone else.

“Hey, since you're here... Ah was goin’ to ma Spelldrive practice. Don't you have cheerleadin' practice too? You always practice with us.”

“C-cheerleading?” You ask.

“Yeah. You probly forgot ‘cause you're always so busy. If you're free, come with me. Ah always play better with you cheerin’ me on.” He smirks at you. “And Ah know how you love seein’ yer boyfriend win another game.”

“BOYFRIEND?!” Everyone said in unison.

“Oh boy.” Idia's voice says through the tablet. “Dude is dreaming that he's some sports team captain who's dating the head cheerleader. So cliché. What did I tell you about his imagination being weak?”

“Epel Felmier. May I make you a few questions?” Ortho asks and Epel agrees. “From what I understand, you and (Y/N) are dating, correct?”

“Ya bet we are!” Epel confirms with a huge smile. “Ain't they just as kind as can be, and as pretty as a picture?” He grabs you by the waist to pull you against him. “Shoot, Ah must be the luckiest guy aroun’!”

“Aww, so sweet.” Idia says. “If I get diabetes after this I'll be sending this guy the bill for my medication.”

“You two really make a very cute couple.” Ortho says to Epel. You didn't know if he was being sincere or sarcastic just to keep the conversation going. “When did you two start dating?”

“Lesse... When was it again? It was after I gained muscle and get this tall. And that was... Uhh... When WAS it? ... Hrk! Mah head... It hurts!”

The dream begins to distort, but when you think Epel is about to wake up, Vil and Rook appear, darkness versions of them.

“I believe it was near the end of winter break when your height surpassed mine, Eple.” Darkness Vil says.

“Oui. And you two started your love affair in the spring.” Darkness Rook complements. “Tellement romantique!”

“Really?” Idia complained again. “You start dating in the spring? How predictable. Were the birds also singing their hearts out when (Y/N) said 'Of course I want to date you, silly' ?”

“Epel.” Darkness Vil speaks again. “You left the dorm rather early today, so why are you standing around shooting the breeze?”

“Ah was on mah way to mornin’ practice when Ah ran into (Y/N) and these other folks...”

“Conversing with friends is indeed a valuable thing, but are you not the Spelldrive club most promising rookie?” Darkness Rook says. “I hear as much all the time from Leona.”

The two darkness figures with the appearance of Vil and Rook continue talking about how Eple is strong and such a talented player that the students of Savanaclaw would like him to ask to transfer to their dorm, but Vil would never allow it because he doesn't want to lose a student like Epel.

“That’s enough idle chitchat.” Darkness Vil says. “Off with you, now, get to your club.”

“Yessir. You coming with me (Y/N)?”

“NO!” You say. “This is not you Epel! You're not this tall, muscular guy. You are a boy with a cute and delicate appearance but a will of steel. We may have never started dating, but the truth is... I like you too Epel. I really do. But not this you, the real you. The Epel who said in SDC that he was going to maximize his weapon and beat Neige with his charm! Did you forget?”

“Epel. Cease listening to those spudlings.” Darkness Vil warns him.

“Yes, indeed. You will never go wrong by heeding Vil, Epel!” Darkness Rook encourages.

“You were finally accepting yourself.” You continue “Finally seeing yourself the way I see you. You were so cool! I was so proud of you!”

The dream world distorts again until Epel breaks and awakens. His body returned to normal, and he was wearing his dorm uniform.

“How could I have forgotten?” Epel says with tears in the corners of his eyes. “I was going to accept the strength only I had, a strength like that poison apple... I swore it that day!”

You feel so happy to see him return to the Epel you know that you can't contain the urge to hug him. He stays still for a second because of the surprise, but right after you feel him returning the hug with affection.

“Oh dear, Epel...” Darkness Vil says horrified. “You look so frail now.”

“Misérables! Your physique towered as high as the Seven jeweled Hills themselves. Where has it gone?”

“You poor thing. That dirty spud have cursed you with a pitiful form. You certainly deserve someone better than them. Come to me instead. I'll restore your brawny beauty.”

“Yes, Vil, that's a marvelous idea! Come, Epel. Join us.”

Epel is silent for a moment. To then tell them that the Rook and Vil he knows would never say those things. And that he would be lying if he said that he didn't wish he could be big and brawny.

“But the strength I want... The brawn I want... The beauty I want... The love I want... That's for ME to decide, and for ME to claim myself! And one more thing... You insult (Y/N) again, and me punchin' yer fake face'll be the least of yer worries, I guarantee it!”

Darkness Vil and Rook tried to convince Epel to choose the dream over reality, but this only angered him even more and made him and the others attack the darkness figures. Epel finishes the fight by using his signature spell on the fake Vil and Rook.

“Hey, Epel! You finally awake?” Grim asks.

“Yeah, my head's clear now. I must've looked like a real doof to you guys, huh?”

They chit chat a little about Epel showing how strong he is for being able to overcome the darkness. Until Grim speaks again to caught Epel's attention with a serious expression and crossed paws.

“Enough chit chat. Epel, I need to sort somethin’ out with you.” Epel looks at Grim puzzledly and Grim points at him with a cute, threatening finger. “What are your intentions with my hench-human?”

Epel practically jumps in place with a panicked expression and flushed cheeks. He opens his mouth to say something, or at least try, but he can barely say a word without stuttering.

“If you need, I can play the audios of what you said so you remember what you could explain first.” Ortho suggests with a look of someone who smiles mischievously.

“NO! REALLY DON’T DO IT!” Epel begs. “Can we just forget about that for now and focus on the real issue here? I don’t even know what's going on. What was up with the fake Vil and Rook? What’s happening?!”

They show the explanatory video to Epel, explain the plan and that he should go with them to the next dream as they would go to another Pomefiore student's dream. He agrees and Ortho creates a dummy version of tall and brawny Epel to stay in that dream so as not to alert Malleus.

“Eugh! Now that I'm looking at it again... How in tarnation did Ah ever think Ah looked cool?!”

“Indeed.” You say. “The real you is so much better.”

He looks at you surprised and flattered.

“R-really?... Huh... hey... sorry about... huh...”

“I like you too, Epel.” You admit.

“You... WHAT?!”

You tell him that the feeling is mutual and everything you like about him. You also talk about how you prefer the real him, rather than that... weird version of him.

“You know, I could cheer for you in a game or two if you want.” You tease him.

“I’m... not gonna lie, I would love that.” He smiles, cutely and excited. He then gains the courage to hug you and kiss you on the cheek.

“PDA Alert!” Idia's voice is heard through the table.

Epel immediately moves away from you, embarrassed for having done it in front of the others.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[butterflys-corner]

You went too far (pt.2!)

Part one here: pt. 1!

Summary: The monster trio finally track you down and apologize for the dumb fight you had. Warnings/Tags: swearing, mention of fighting, slight violence, fluff and apologies

Note: I'm so sorry this is super late! I hope you like it!

Monkey D. Luffy

Luffy spent time on the island with the crew to figure out what was even here to no avail. It was a hunk of rock just sitting in the way of more land ahead.

He scratched his head, the feeling of something being off stirring an unfamiliar knot in his chest. He wasn't hungry so it wasn't that.

All of the crew was here, and you were watching the ship, so clearly everything was fine on that end of things too.

But, then that tightness in his chest got worse as he looked across the island to where the Sunny was supposed to be docked. The ship was gone. And you with it.

"Huh?" Luffy's eyes darted around the coast for any sign of the ship, but there was nothing but ocean.

You would have told him you were leaving- even if you were that upset with him.

Now that he thought about it.. what were you upset at him for? He called himself the captain, sure, but he always did.

The little- albeit cobwebbed- wheels start turning in his brain as he sits cross legged on the ground.

It wasn't your birthday. It wasn't your anniversary. No one recently passed away. He didn't eat your food.

The captain sighed out, instantly understanding that you were upset that he used such a serious tone toward you.

"Hey. Nami," he calls over to the redhead and she turns on her heels, arms folded over her chest as she undoubtedly searched for the ship as well.

"The ship can't be far. We would have seen it by now. Was there anything suspicious or something around here?" He was deadly serious, voice full of confidence as his eyes glanced around the desolate rock they were standing on.

"That's Monkey D. Luffy's woman!"

"Yeah? So-"

Your captors spoke, pretty loudly at that, as you leaned against the ancient cell they stuck you inside. The bars lightly dug into your forearms as you held your hands together outside of them.

"You guys are so fucked." Your voice echoed against the spacious prison, the guys jolting in place.

"You shut your damn mouth! We ain't scared of that kid-"

"He's going to break me out of here and beat the hell out of you." You were firm in your words, even through the anger you held over your boyfriend being a jerk earlier.

It was a wonder how he wasn't here yet, but you know he makes it to where he needs to be eventually. Especially when you or the crew were involved. Your captain would come through for you, just like he did every time.

And as you pressed your face against those uncomfortable bars, you heard him.

"Gum gum, pistol!" And those chumps were done. Knocked out cold on the ground in front of the cell from the impact.

"Took you long enough," you were still upset with him, he in turn just glad to see your face after the few hours apart. The door to your cell gets blown open courtesy of Usopp's exploding stars and you cough on the shaken clay dust.

You take no more than three paces out of the cell before familiar rubber limbs coil around you. You stand still and take the impact of his limber body with a few stumbles backward.

"Lu, hey, come on-" you teeter to stay upright, your goofy captain just laughing.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk and saying I didn't care. I'm just glad you're okay." He made your upset melt away with his infectious laughter, your chest rumbling with chuckles of your own.

"Yeah, okay. I forgive you. Get me out of this stuffy cave already."

Roronoa Zoro

"Oh, you'll miss me so bad, Roronoa. I'm going into the village. Stay here with your precious swords."

Those three sentences haunted his thoughts as he felt the night grow later and later.

"You'll miss me so bad-"

You never came back from the brisk adventure into the village. He knew he shouldn't blame himself for it, but he was responsible for you. He felt responsible for you.

He'd never admit it to you, but your words stung the more he waited for you to come back. Why weren't you back yet?

"Luffy," his rough voice hid his concern well, it came with practice he supposed. "I'm heading into the village. Be back soon." And he was met with a quick wave as the captain was occupied in a game of tag.

The swordsman obviously didn't know where you were, just that he needed to find you. He had that stupid mistake to apologize for. Damn, his poor sense of direction! This was the third right he'd taken into a dead end.

The village wasn't particularly a maze, but Zoro was so determined to find you in this sea of people that he'd taken to asking around now. Him! Asking for help!

Much to his misfortune, you were already walking up the gangplank with a rare bottle of sake for the idiot. You returned from the village after painstakingly picking out, haggling, and paying (less than half price, lucky you!) for it. And this was after handling those shitty pirates who bothered trying to kidnap you for a couple Beri.

The fight left you with bloody knuckles and a sore wrist, but that was all. The precious bottle of Sake was worth it. You didn't even pay with your own money. You used those morons' money.

You knew the fight was dumb, really just wanting him to apologize for it so that you could get on with your night. It wasn't fun going to sleep mad at each other.

So when you looked around the Sunny in his usual spots and found him gone, you asked around to find he left.

"Idiot," you sighed out and left the ship to retrieve the green-haired musclehead.

It took you hours to find the directionally blind man, the poor guy covered in a thin sweat from the worry he worked up. You tap his shoulder and easily avoid a sword handle to the gut.

"There you are." You smile at Mosshead and his alerted face melts into a much more relieved, ever so slight smile.

"There you are, troublemaker." He shot back, just glad he finally found you. Or you him, he didn't pay attention to the details as you receive a nearly bonecrushing hug.

"Ah! No, Z, you're all sweaty!" You squirm under his arms to no avail, but the hug was short lived anyway. He rested his left over his hip, the right on his swords as always.

"C'mon. I'm tired of being in this village."

And you left with him, eventually having his arm over your shoulder as he usually rested it.

He didn't verbally apologize until much later when you were alone in your cabin. He always did it that way, not needing the others to overhear his vulnerability with you.

Even then, it was enough for you. He apologized in his own way after by doing some extra lifting when you needed it- with much less complaints- and even scoring you an expensive bottle of your drink of choice. And of course he tended to your bruised knuckles and cleaned up your face.

You wouldn't trade him for anything in the world. He was your stubborn as a bull swordsman and you loved him that way.

Sanji Vinsmoke

Sanji had immediately jumped into action when he found that you never made it to the ship. He searched high and low, in different bars and restaurants and shops, but you were nowhere to be found.

He screwed up- he knew that. He screwed up horribly by letting his tendency to fawn over women get in the way of the most important person to him. You.

Curly brows lit a cigarette to calm himself down, his blue eyes looking around for anything that stood out.

There.

Long strides to the alleyway he hadn't spotted before and he finally found you at knife-point. Who did these bastards think they were?

"Back off." He grumbled with a puff of smoke, hands snaking into his suit pant pockets like they always did during serious fights.

"Hah, what're you gonna do, pretty boy?"

"I should fillet you for even thinking about hurting that woman right there. You're deplorable for such an atrocity. I'm teaching you a lesson, but first-" Your hopeless romantic jumps from his spot, your assailants looking around in absolute confusion. You knew better however, expecting the sweet embrace of his arms underneath your knees and behind your back.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, Dearest. I won't ever do it again. Wait here," Sanji sets you down delicately nearby and you take the chance to lean against a wall to watch him kick ass. Literally.

Those three guys were no match for the cook's speed, being thoroughly punished by his flaming kicks in record time. You could swear it was a personal best of his now.

When the other men fell to the ground, your lover spun on his heels and checked on you intently. He circled you, held each of your arms up to his eyes to be sure, put your cheeks in his hands to tilt your head how he needed to-

Oh. He just wanted to kiss you.

"I'm so sorry, Mon tresor," he tested his forehead against yours, his soft eyes closed in shame. "I should have left with you. I just wanted to get you a few more things before we left the island. Will you ever forgive me?"

"How could I not, you silly cook?"

Credits:

Taglist: @siraxealot, @kyllium, @exoticrasin, @mrharringtonsbae, @penguinsravioli, @cousinconnie, @ellisaworld, @xcriaturex, @bluevenus19, @augghhgghhh, @silentscream2022, I hope I didn't miss anyone!!

[satorus-princess]

she loves me not, she loves me

synopsis: gojo satoru - the oh-so-confident, strongest sorcerer - becoming a nervous wreck on his wedding day? no way. (one suggestive joke, but otherwise sfw)

fem!reader x gojo satoru, canon au but geto never defected 🥰

gojo thinks he's successful in being able to conceal the effect of his doubts and worries on his demeanour. but, obviously, his best man picks up on the way that he constantly fixes his pushed-back hair, straightens his tuxedo for the umpteenth time, and redoes his tie for a third time. well, honestly, anyone would be able to infer his fears from his behaviour, no matter how forced his smile is.

“are you nervous, satoru? you have no reason to be, you know,” geto says, sitting on a chair in his own suit as he observes his best friend standing in front of the mirror who brushes off atoms from the sleeves of his tux.

“hah, why would i be nervous? i'm hard to resist, and she loves me,” the tone and manner in which gojo says that sounds as if he's reassuring himself rather than trying to convince geto he isn't nervous.

“she does. i've seen you get into destructive relationships, but not this one. (y/n)'s perfect for you,”

“she's so perfect... what is she doing marrying me?” gojo groans, stepping backwards and slumping into an armchair behind him.

“she said yes for a reason,” geto reminds gojo.

“you're right, you're right. she said yes to me. she wants to marry me.” gojo's head is tilted back over the edge of the chair, trying to keep his thoughts under control. that lasts a minute before he's grumbling under his breath, “shit, i'm a mess.”

while gojo is consumed in his whirlwind of thoughts, he doesn't even hear geto calling someone on the phone and talking to them. that's until he scoots closer to the groom, holding out the phone to him with a short “here”.

“what are you doing?” he asks, lifting his head up, confused as to why his rambling is cut off and what could possibly be more important.

“‘toru?” your sweet voice chimes through the speaker, and suddenly, gojo feels as if his heart has stopped. he takes the phone from geto, who steps out of the room to let you two have your moment, knowing that the only person who can ease gojo's nerves is his future wife herself.

his fingers slightly tremble around the phone as he presses it against his ear. he swallows thickly before speaking, “(y/n)?”

“yeah, it's me, my love. are you okay?”

a gentle smile paints over his lips, his shoulders visibly relaxing as he lets out a sigh - subconsciously relieved. he nods, despite you not being able to see him. “yeah... yeah, i'm okay now that i've heard your voice. fuck, you sound so pretty through the phone, i might cry,” he jokes, but the choked-up laugh that tumbles out suggests that he might not be completely joking.

he hears you laugh on the other side of the phone and his heart signs up for a marathon. “hey, save the tears for when you see me.”

“oh, those aren't gonna be tears. that's gonna be full-on sobbing and snot everywhere,” his tone is light and playful, feeling much calmer now.

you laugh again, this time louder. “you're ridiculous. although i'm not sure i doubt you.”

“i'm definitely not joking. just thinking about you in your dress is bringing me to tears.”

“you love me,” you state simply in a quieter tone, but it's such a powerful affirmation.

“i do, with every fibre of my being. i can't wait to marry you and spend forever together.”

“me too. you know what else i can't wait for?” you ask playfully in an attempt to lift his mood, waiting for gojo to respond before continuing. he gives you a soft hum in question. “the honeymoon. spending lots of quality time together. in bed, especially.”

he lets out a surprised laugh, though his deep, ocean eyes soften into something more tranquil, like a fresh stream shimmering in the sun. “god, i love you. this is why you're my wife-to-be.”

“but seriously, you have nothing to be nervous about, you know? we're getting married because we love each other, there's no doubt about that.”

gojo releases a heavy, shaky sigh. “i know... you're not gonna leave me waiting at the altar, are you?” he jokes, but there's an underlying concern that's more serious than he lets on. but, of course, you sense it.

“that's the most ridiculous thing you've said in your life, my love. i wouldn't be here, dressed up to marry you if i was going to leave you. i'm not going anywhere or leaving you behind, no matter what, okay?”

he hums in understanding, and you assume he's chewing on the inside of his cheek to hold back his emotions.

you continue, “satoru, my heart belongs with you. if, in the craziest scenario you can think of, i leave you, my heart will still be with you. it'll always love you, and it'll never forget about you. i hope you know i love you more than anything.”

he swallows again before speaking, “i do know. that's why i can't believe you only want me; do i even deserve you?” he whispers, and the broken crack in his voice makes your heart crack along with it.

“hey, none of that. i don't think i can stress how much you deserve everything good in the world. and you were the one that taught me that i deserve only the best, that i should never settle for anything else. so, here i am, only marrying the best,” you say softly with a smile that you hope he can hear in your voice.

and you assume he can when you just about hear the hitch in his breath. “... thank you, (y/n),” he murmurs. it's a simple utterance, but it means everything to you, knowing you were able to reassure him in such a vulnerable moment. he didn't think his words could be used against him in the best possible way - if he believes that you deserve the best, then it must be true that you believe he deserves the best too. “who knew the strongest would be so nervous on his wedding day, huh?” he attempts to lighten the mood again, but this time, he isn't burying his emotions - he's overcome them thanks to you.

“ah, but you're the weakest when it comes to me, aren't you?” you tease. “i love this side of you, you know. the human side, the one that you only show to me.”

“alright, i get it, i get it. you don't need to make me cry again yet. we haven't even gotten to the vows yet,” he chuckles lightly, revealing the fact that he may have shed some tears while you were reassuring him.

“my sweet boy, you really are gonna be sobbing, huh?”

“without a doubt. continuously from the moment i see you.” his heart flutters when he hears your laugh ring through the phone, half filled with amusement and half with love.

“well, now that you aren't doubting anything, why don't you go out there and wait for me, hm?”

“mhm, yeah... i love you, sweet girl.”

“i love you, too, ‘toru. i'll see you out there, okay?” you confirm in a tender tone that is unreplicable, tugging at his heart strings that form a beautiful melody that only you manage to orchestrate.

“okay, mrs gojo.”

[rotapathetic]

˒ 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 .ᐟ 𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐄 ┆ getting caught ☒

subtle gaslighting ՙ⠀good at this lying thing ՙ⠀ pathetic introduction ՙ

rafe was glad you couldn’t see his smile through the screen. he didn’t expect for you to want to see him so soon, but here he is, staring at your ‘can we meet?’ text with a crooked grin on his face. he tried to hide it by biting on his thumb, but the smile was too intense he just ended up biting down hard. he looked to his thumb, noticing the marks. you can’t see that.

he quickly scattered to his bathroom cabinet, pulling out a bandaid and wrapping it around the bruised digit. he responded that you could come to his place. he wondered what you wanted to talk about. that movie you two watched together? well, rafe was the one watching, you just happened to be joining him without knowing.

you were quick to arrive while rafe contemplated what you could want to meet for. all worries immediately ceased when he saw you. you get prettier each time. he didn’t realize how much he needed to see you in the flesh after staring at you through a screen. the real thing is so much better.

you smiled hesitantly at him, rafe attempting to return it. when he felt how lopsided it felt on his lips, he turned his lips back down. you don’t need to see that either. “hi, rafe. .” you started, eyes wandering over to his hand that was shoved in his pocket, his thumb poking out. your eyes widened a fraction, forgetting the important thing you were here for. “what happened?” you reached for his hand, rafe letting you take it, not knowing what to do with himself at you touching him. should he hurt more often so you can touch him? he quickly got rid of the thought, deeming it not normal.

remembering to speak and not stare while thinking, he explained the bandage. “um. . nicked myself on something. do you want to come in, maybe? or i can come out, it’s fine,” he rambled out.

you peered up at him, letting go of his hand. right. . “i think i’m fine out here. .” you didn’t feel comfortable being too close just yet. “i just wanted to ask you about something,” you pulled out your phone, the tab already open.

rafe’s already naturally stock still body stilled even further at the sight of the instagram profile. it was the boy he saw earlier. the boy you were friends with. the boy he was jealous of for a moment before finding out he had a girlfriend. what about him? were you going to tell rafe this was the guy you wanted to be with? were you going to tell rafe that this guy would beat him if he talked to you? did this guy know rafe could do way worse?

but instead of speaking any of those thoughts, rafe merely squinted his eyes at the screen. “who’s that?” he scrunched a brow.

you mirrored his confused face. you were confident what your friend told you was true. “this is my friend. he told me some guy liked a post of his from years ago with me in it. he went to the profile and showed me, thinking i would laugh about it. but then i saw it was you.”

rafe took a second to process. the post with you in it. . that he thought he didn’t double tap. but he did and didn’t realize. and. . from years ago? did rafe really scroll back that far? how long was he staring at his screen? did it show in his usually droopy eyes? were they more bloodshot than usual?

but instead of showing these concerns, rafe slowly shrugged, head coming in closer to get a better view of the screen. “ah. . maybe,” he chuckled. “sometimes when i’m up late at night, i just scroll on that app, it’s not good,” he rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, coming across as embarrassed for something else other than what he’s been caught for.

you hesitated. “um, yeah. we all do that. it’s just. . this is a pretty old picture. how’d you even come across his profile? i. . was so confused i decided to check my own profile views and saw you again.”

rafe smirked, constructing something made up in his head while you spoke. you were so adorable when you were slightly scared. were you worried rafe was going though your profile and everyone close to you late at night so he could get a sense of who you like and who to keep an eye on? because that’s what he was doing.

but instead he said, “what, do you think i was stalking you or something?” he let his smile expand, not caring how odd it may look on his face. “who does that anymore?”

you put your phone away, quickly becoming shy at your accusation. that’s true. . maybe your thoughts jumped too far.

“i mean. . i would call it lame, but the only thing lame was me thinking you were joking. .” rafe said, abashed.

you frowned. “what?” rafe shrugged, head dipping down. “i just thought. . because you’re way too pretty to approach me, a friend put you up to it or something. i just. .” rafe sighed. you inwardly cooed at how embarrassed he seemed. but the sigh wasn’t out of embarrassment, he was running out of made up lines and quickly had to think of something.

“. .i just wanted to make sure you were being serious, i guess. i found your social through the people you may know thing,” not true, he hunted for it.

“and i guess i ended up on your friends profile without even realizing,” not true, he found it while stalking your account.

rafe’s brow scrunched and he squinted, a thing he did to hold back tears. he wasn’t about to cry though. but you didn’t know that. you quickly came forward, pulling him into a hug. “i’m sorry. this was so mean, i shouldn’t have judged so quickly. it was just kind of weird, and i immediately thought the worst,” you pulled back from the hug in enough time to miss the smirk rafe had on his face.

“but i knew you weren’t that kind of guy, gosh. that’s so embarrassing of me, not you,” you nervously giggled.

rafe shrugged, “it happens, i guess. we were both just hesitant about the person we just met. ’s normal,” at least rafe knew how to decipher if that was normal or not.

you smiled timidly at him, taking a second to really look. this cute guy who got stood up and was worried that a girl was playing with his emotions. you were busy admiring while rafe stared back for a different reason.

if he simply didn’t let you move from the hug, would you stay put? how do you smell so good and how would rafe go about finding out what fragrances you use so he could spray it on his things? finding that out will be way harder than finding your social media. and coming up with a pretty solid story. did you want to come in now? you weren’t nervous anymore, that meant you could stay and hang out with him, right? but if he couldn’t let you go from the hug, rafe doesn’t know how he would react to you being in his room. . then leaving.

you pulled yourself from your thoughts, “um. . i actually have something to do. i just wanted to stop by really quickly and get this off of my mind. .”

rafe blinked to. “oh, okay,” he felt your arms slip from him, his hand coming up to his arm to try to keep your touch there. he pulled a frown when it didn’t work, dropping his hand.

“see you. . later. and sorry about this again,” you giggled, walking away from his front door.

rafe was sorry too. he would feel even worse about what he did if it meant you were leaving him. but you weren’t. so he didn’t feel bad at all, really.

[redhoodsdeer]

I love your writing and was wondering if you could do something fluffy with Jason Todd.

My birthday is on Valentine’s Day and I was wondering if you could write about Jason celebrating reader’s birthday on Valentine’s Day.

Like making her breakfast in bed or showering her with gifts, or making the whole day about her.

👉🏼👈🏼

cookies'n love (aka in love jason todd x reader)

prompt: where the reader is already used to not celebrating her birthday, because it's on a day where all her friends are celebrating with their valentines, it turns out that her very excited to celebrate boyfriend has something to say about it.

a/n: hi, i'm back with a really really late request (i'm so so sorry), and i know valentines day were a whole month ago, but happy late birthday! i changed a bit of what you'd requested, but keep the soul of it (jason in love), anyways, so, english is not my first language, and i hope you like it!

It was around 8AM when you woke up to the shattering noise of several things falling, your bright eyes blinking away the sleep, while a very sleepy you moved towards the source of all the noise.

Now, dating and living with a vigilante boyfriend for so long, it's expected that a loud noise early in the morning could be absolutely anything, especially when your boyfriend is Jason Todd.

But still, you're not sure anything could have prepared you for the sight of your huge boyfriend, in your pink kitchen apron, trying to quietly tidy up the mess of cookie cutters and cake shapes that were scattered across the counter.

With a heart-shaped cupcake pan in one hand, and an oven mitt in the other, your boyfriend's eyes meet yours that were incredible confused, sleep long forgotten in the surprise of the situation.

"Jay? You're baking? At eight in the morning on a tuesday?" Your sleepy voice comes as you walk into the kitchen, helping him tidy the mess of baking pans and cookie cutters on the counter.

"Babe, you're not supposed to be awake, it's your birthday, you should sleep until 10AM while your handsome boyfriend bakes cookies for you."

And just then, you smell the distant scent of vanilla and the very close smell of burning. Spotting the pan of burnt cookies cooling near the sink. "Huh, don't you think you overcooked it a little, Jay?"

You blink your pretty eyes at him while trying to be as sweet as possible about it, because your boyfriend with zero cooking skills had gotten up early to make cookies for you, just because it was your birthday.

And you knew, that for some people, birthdays were a big deal, but they just weren't for you, not since you were 12 years old, when all your friends started having boyfriends and you were left behind, your birthday being replaced by cards and cheap chocolate.

But, Jason actually cared about your birthday, cared enough to try to bake you cookies, and your heart warmed at the thought, not knowing what you had done to deserve him.

You watch him slowly wither at the comment about the burnt cookies. "Yeah, I guess, but there's another batch coming out that's going to be perfect." He says, shining up again.

And a silly, lovestruck smile appears on your face as you stand on your tiptoes covered by colorful socks to reach his face and shower him with loving kisses.

"Don't worry, Jay, they're perfect, all of them." You say as you kiss all over his face, feeling his smile appearing and he placing his hands on your hips, lifting you up as if you weighed nothing and placing you sitting on the, slightly less messy, counter.

"Yeah? Is that what you think? I just feel bad for waking you up from your sleep, you already sleep badly enough without me knocking over the whole kitchen." He jokes as he now returns the kisses on your face, forgetting about the burnt cookies in the sink and the cookies baking in the oven.

"Don't be, now we can do it together, maybe I'll even teach you my secret recipe" A smile playing on your sleepy face.

His smile widens as you wrap your arms around him, wanting to stay as close to him as you can, as if to ensure that he is real. "Oh yeah? I'll hold you to that promise, huh" he teases as he kisses your lips softly.

"They say the secret ingredient is only found in the highest mountain, and you're only worthy of the recipe if you love a Jason Todd, so it's not for many." A laugh comes out of him as he grins goofily, kissing the tip of your nose.

"Happy birthday, silly."

[aliwritex]

thoughts: drunk!franco

“I think you’ve had enough, darling” you told him by the bar, “i’m getting you water instead, okay?”

Franco had had a bit more to drink than you – maybe a lot more – and was now completely out of his mind. He wasn’t usually the type to drink, it was an accident that he had gotten to that point, really, his first drink was just a little too strong and had gotten him too excited. So now, after a couple more drinks, he was wasted.

He laid his head on your shoulder as you waited for his water, you took his hand in yours, taking to your lips and kissing it. His body kept getting heavier and heavier by your side, almost taking you down by the time you got the water.

“Look at me, baby,” you took his face in your hand, forcing his head up and tilting the bottle to his lips, “here, please drink some”

He barely opened his mouth but you managed to get some liquid in him. Getting him out of the club was a hassle, seeing he was using you for support as you walked and by the time you got an uber you were about to drop him.

“Are we going home?” he asked in the back seat, head resting on your side. You looked down at him and took his face in your hands, humming affirmatively “Good. I’m tired. Can I take a nap?”

“Yes, baby, you can take a nap. But we’ll be home in a minute, I need you to walk in, okay?”

He nodded softly, his eyes barely open as he did so. Franco buried his head back into your side and quickly drifted off, so when you got closer to your apartment you started pushing him away, trying to wake him up.

“Fran, come on, love, just need you to get out of the car and get inside. Can you do that for me?” he nodded as you stood outside the car, trying to lure him out.

Then it was another five minutes till you made it into the elevator.

“You’re really pretty.” he told you, words coming out of his mouth messy. “Really hot too. And these,” he hugged you, leaning down and pressing his face to your chest, “these are beautiful. I’d give anything to see them”

You couldn’t help but laugh, holding his head close to you “You saw them just a couple hours ago, baby”

“I did? Why d’you show me your tetitas?” he asked you, and his eyes suddenly went wide, he looked concerned and confused about it.

“Cause I’m your girlfriend?” you laughed “You saw me getting ready before we went out” pulling him out of the elevator and down the hallway.

“Shit, I got really lucky” he smiled “can I see them again? Don’t think I remember what they look like”

“Just get inside, Franco” you chuckled, pushing him inside. You let him down on the couch, setting your things down next to him. “Stay here, okay? I’m just gonna get you some water and get the bed ready so we can sleep”

Franco just nodded, falling on his side, limbs spread and falling off the couch. You made your way inside to clean your room, putting away all the clothes that you had decided against that night. You even headed into the bathroom to take a shower and wash your makeup off before going back to take care of Franco. You grabbed some things from the kitchen and walked into the living room where he was still sleeping.

“Baby,” you called softly, brushing his hair away from his face to wake him up. Your attempts were useless so you just gathered all your strength and pulled him to sit up. “Fran, wake up, come on, need to drink some water” you handed him the glass as his eyes opened, watching him drink but spill some all over himself. “Shit, Franco, oh god! Please, just take this so you don’t puke and we can go to bed, yeah?”

He nodded as you placed the pill in his hand. Thankfully he was able to take it without choking or making a mess, so you took the glass away from him and reached to take off his wet shirt.

“Hey, hey! What do you think you’re doing?” he protested lazily, “You can’t do that. I’ve just been told I have a girlfriend” he whispered.

His words made your annoyance fade away “I know, baby, that’s me” you caressed his cheek, looking down at him.

“Right! That is you!”

“Yeah, now do your girlfriend a favor and take these dirty clothes off so we can sleep,” you told him gently, undoing the button of his jeans.

Franco just nodded, standing up to help you take off his clothes. You managed to get him into your room and under the covers, where he snuggled close to your chest, letting his hands make their way under your top but you tried to stop him.

“You said you would let me see them” he whined, rubbing his face on your covered chest.

“I said you had already seen them,” you protested “but I’ll let you take a peak”

He immediately shoved his head under your shirt, along with his hand that rubbed your side. You felt him hum against your skin and smiled “They’re nice. Very cozy”