♡ the bakery ♡

It had all started with a mindless tweet.

Oracle had been your latest obsession. Other Gothamites liked vigilantes with a more hands on approach: the Batman, Robin, Nightwing, or Batgirl.

And you were grateful for their help in keeping Gotham safe from harm. Skeptical too, but mostly grateful. They helped solve crimes, and kick ass. But your tech loving heart couldn't help but admire a certain forgotten figure more: Oracle.

You didn't even know if they were real or just a whispered story to threaten Gotham's criminals on the technological frontier. But the capacity of striking such fear in someone's heart without even lifting a hand was what attracted you: anyone could punch and be a bully to keep people in line, but Oracle hadn't ever said a word out loud, yet hackers and cyber criminals quivered in their seats at the name being uttered.

Regardless, that boring Friday evening, you had found yourself scrolling on Twitter (you wouldn't ever call it X), when you found a thread discussing the secret identity of vigilantes. It wasn't uncommon for the general populace to make assumptions, and it was your favourite pass time to read them. You had a good belly laugh when someone would suggest that Batman was a lab made hybrid of a bat and a man, or when people speculated on how Robin stayed forever young. There were other comments giving well founded proof that you found yourself nodding at.

And then, amidst it all, a conversation about Oracle:

You huffed, becoming slightly defensive of a person you didn't even know. And soon enough you found yourself being antagonistic for the hell of it (what better means of spending a Friday evening than by getting harassed by Twitter, amirite?).

You got the backlash you expected.

What you didn't expect was the unknown number texting you late that night. you had been almost starting to doze off on the couch as you re-watched Criminal Minds in the background, when the phone had lit up on the coffee table, vibrating loudly. You blinked sluggishly, and opened the message.

It wasn't delivered in the Messages app. It seemed to be a program that you hadn't installed.

It was ominous, and in the dead dark of night, it made your skin crawl. You sat up straight, and answered:

The question seemed stupid when you had a probable guess.

On instinct you moved to your computer, starting to plug in your phone. If this was who you suspected it was, you might be able to get to the root of this program and maybe even get a hint on the vigilante you admired so much.

The answer came with another buzz.

You blinked at the repetitive message, and then watched in horror (and technological amazement) as the black screen withered away until your phone was back to normal.

You had managed to get only the first coding of the program onto your computer, and even that had awed you. Your skills where no were near the level of this master hacker, that you were sure was Oracle.

Which made you ponder… why had the tweet managed to garner the attention of The Oracle herself (yes, you had now started to believe your own ragebait tweet), if not because it had a shrivel of truth to it?

Had you accidentally hit the jackpot? And what would you even do with the information. You weren't interested in selling your favorite hero to cyber criminals, not when her name loomed as protection over your domain. You sure as hell didn't want to be perceived as a threat to Oracle. It probably wasn't safe to be the enemy of such power, and also you selfishly wanted to talk to her. Awe her in the way she awed you.

So you got to work. The next day of course, sleep was important.

You did delete the tweet, as an olive branch of sorts. And then you started to work on your own code, basing it of hers. Only you didn't have a way of sending your message to her without any information about her device. So you came to a standstill. Was this the end of your little quest to meet your hero?

But you didn't give up fast. It wasn't in your nature. You balanced your day job and this hobby of yours that had evolved into this. No luck.

Maybe you weren't as knowledgeable. After all, coding had just been a hobby of yours you had undertaken. You hadn't studied much about it beyond what the internet offered to you freely.

You debated applying for a Computer Science degree in Gotham University. But the cons outweighed the pros: you weren't rich, you would have to juggle it with your job, and it would take years and years. And you were growing increasingly impatient. You wanted to talk to your hero again (even though your conversation could barely be called a conversation). So you crossed of Computer Science degree from your list of how to proceed, and jumped into the next option: the public library.

Gotham City Public Library was one of the most beautiful buildings in the city. You had a lot of respect for the immense building that stored incalculable knowledge. Floors upon floors of blue-veined white marble that contained mahogany shelves of old and new tomes. You couldn't even fathom how many people had touched those pages, drawn wisdom from them. And today, you were on a mission: the Computer Science Section.

The section itself occupied several shelves, and the amount of books threatened to overwhelm you. How where you supposed to filter through all of these and get to what you wanted? Sighing, you thumbed through the spines. It had been almost fifteen minutes of aimless work, and not a single book that might have been useful to you had caught you eye.

You were starting to review your mental list of what to do, when someone behind you spoke, startling you badly.

You whirled, clutching your chest to try to calm you skittish heart down, looking at the person who had spoken.

An instant rush of blood invaded your cheeks when your gaze settled on the most beautiful woman you'd ever seen. Soft locks of auburn hair grazed pale shoulders, revealed by a green tank top. There was a scattering of freckles there that contrasted against the porcelain skin, ones that matched those on the woman's button nose. Her green eyes glittered behind her tortoise-shell glasses, fixed so intently on you that you feared your knees would give out from the force of her gaze. You let your eyes travel down briefly, trying hard not to gape at those arms. Holy bitable biceps…

She smiled, her pink lips quirking. "I'm sorry I startled you…"

You huffed a soft laugh. "That's okay."

"You seem lost, can I help you?" she asked. Must be one of the librarians.

"Sure… I'm trying to learn more about coding."

"Oh, we have the basic books right over here, if you follow me," she said, and turned, expecting you to follow her.

You were too ashamed to admit you had been struck in place, admiring the movement of her back as she pushed the wheels of her chair.

So when she turned around inquiringly, you flushed again. "I'm—I— actually I know the basics. I've been meddling in coding for a while now."

The woman smiled. "Self taught?" You nodded, feeling woefully inadequate.

"That's how I started too," the redhead said. The words felt consoling, and you had to wonder if she had said them just to appease your sudden insecurity. You weren't that readable, right? Her green eyes seemed to know enough though.

"Well, I hit a wall now and I can't seem to progress anymore," you explained your situation.

The woman hummed, and you felt her eyes slowly travel over your body. They felt like a caress on your skin, and you wondered if that was the effect her eyes had, what would her soft hair feel like? Or the touch of her hand? The slide of two bare bodies—.

"Well, I don't usually offer this," she started, adjusting her glasses on her nose, "but I might be able to tutor you, if you're up for it."

You perked up. "Really? Yes, please. I'll pay you whatever you want—."

A hand stalled your (slightly too loud) enthusiastic rambling. "Relax. I don't want money. Just to help a fellow programmer. So I'll just need that sharp mind of yours." You felt oddly perceived, rendered vulnerable with a few words from this woman. And you didn't even know her name.

You gave her yours, in hope that it might earn you hers.

"Barbara Gordon."

Under the tutelage of Barbara, in a few weeks you advanced even more than you had in the last month.

You could tell she was one of the most intelligent people in Gotham, if not the whole North America. And you admired intelligence.

That knowledge just made the praises she delivered in her one-on-one classes that much better. And she did give a lot of praises. Soft spoken, almost innocent, but you didn't believe that facade.

Not when she'd lean in too close, her soft hair brushing your arm as she would lean in to inspect the screen, humming in approval. Not when her eyes would linger on your mouth as you asked her questions, making you forget your thread of thought. Not when her hand would brush against yours as she helped you figure out a particularly difficult code.Not when she would pat your shoulder after a long day, and her manicured nails would gently drag down your bare arm, eliciting goosebumps in their wake.

Not after hours and hours you spent in her office alone until the first hours of the night. In that dark ambiance, every feeling and tension between you seemed to be magnified.

You were drawn to this woman who had revealed so little about herself. She might be touchy, but she wasn't very open. You soaked up whatever bit of information she'd offer, and after two months of knowing her, you'd collected substantial information: how she was the daughter of the police commissioner, how she'd grown up sheltered, and how programming was more than just a hobby for her. It was a way to help the world.

There was little you understood about her, but the more she revealed, the more access you got to her brilliant mind and her tender heart. You knew she pretended to be hard shelled. Protected the beating organ against the onslaught of this cruel world. And you wanted nothing more than to disarm that armor she wore to keep everyone at arms length and tell her that being vulnerable wasn't a crime.

One evening, the both of you had been sitting in silence for long, enjoying some Chinese takeout with only the computer screens as lighting for the room, when you voiced what had been nagging at you the whole time you'd known her. "Why did you offer to tutor me? I talked to the other librarians and they say its not a common occurrence."

You saw Barbara freeze. And you knew this would be another moment of hers when she'd lose all the casualness and retreat back to her shell. Lock you out to her heart.

She swallowed slowly, not looking at you as she mulled over her words. "I saw potential in you. I know for a fact that your can become a great programmer."

"You thought me, the bumbling mess I was the first day we met, could become someone as great as you?"

"Now, I never said that," she teased. But the playful edge was lost quickly. "Maybe I just wanted a friend," she muttered, low enough that it was almost hard to hear her over the humming of the computer systems. And you wouldn't have heard had your senses not been so attuned. Every inch of your being seemed to point at Barbara, always aware of her.

And your heart melted. Because she had known since the beginning that you would be her friend. Your treacherous and greedy heart was singing more, more, more with every beat.

Barbara coughed to break the awkward silence. "So, truth for a truth. I told you why I wanted to tutor you, you tell me something."

You smile. "Shoot."

"Why did you want to learn more about coding. Was it just to expand your horizons, or is there something more to it?"

You looked down at your hands, not being able to stare a Barbara. Not when she was fixed onto your every word. And you decided in that very moment, that you'd tell her. Because there was probably no one you trusted with this information than Barbara.

"Some months ago, I tweeted something mindless about Oracle. Do you know Oracle?"

Barbara answered after a tentative pause. "I know of her."

"Well, it seemed like what I tweeted hit a nerve, because that very night my phone gets hacked with this program. It sent a message to delete my tweet. I figured the assumption I had made, baseless as it was, probably had some truth to it."

Barbara didn't comment, so you went on. "The program destructed itself, and it would've left me no trace to get back in contact with Oracle."

"What do you mean?" Barbara asked. You looked up, and there was a blankness to her expression you weren't familiar with. You weren't sure if you liked it.

"Well, I acted quick when I received the first message. I could save in some of the coding. But it isn't enough, just the bare bones."

You pulled out your laptop to show Barbara. "See? It's very sophisticated. I have no doubt this is Oracle."

You looked at Barbara, and she looked like she'd seen a ghost. Was the code that good?

"Why? Why are you doing this?"

You shrug. "I want to reach back."

"Reach back?" Barbara burst out. "This isn't a game you're playing! Oracle deals with criminals and vigilantes! Do you think that's something a normal civilian should deal with."

You stared at her, shocked by her tone. Never once had Barbara raised her tone at you, and you found that you didn't like it one bit. It was as if that shell of hers you'd been peeling back bit by bit was around her once again, stronger than ever.

You didn't get to say a word when Barbara moved away from you. "You should go," she said, not looking at you. Her volume was back to normal, but you've never felt more shut out. "It's getting late."

You blink, and detest the blurriness in you vision, caused by the tears gathering there. You don't need to be told twice. You never had cared to be in a space where you clearly weren't wanted.

You gathered your stuff, and left with a single, sad goodbye, which went unanswered.

The code was gone. You didn't know how she did it, but the whole thing was wiped.

Barbara might be smarter than you, but that didn't mean you weren't smart as well. You knew what was happening. You knew why Barbara had reacted that way.

The hero you so admired was also the woman you had been slowly falling in love with.

You didn't know what hurt more: her pushing you away or the fact that your entire friendship was probably a farce in the first place. You knew that in this chess game, Oracle played two moves ahead of you. She had probably known you before she had even met you. Saw a golden opportunity to get close to you by tutoring you. And had gleaned out if you had been a threat or not. Just wanted a friend your ass.

But there was a move Oracle hadn't taken into account: Barbara Gordon's teaching skills and your own memory.

The code might be gone, but by staring at it so long, you had it basically memorized. To bad Oracle couldn't hack into your mind yet (although Barbara had hacked her way into your heart). After you laid it out in your computer, you started to fill it in with the knowledge you had found.

It took you a while to peg it down, and it might not even be the exact code, but you knew it would do. So you ran it, and for a tense second, you waited.

The black screen that had started all this appeared on your computer. You grinned as you typed out.

The response took no more than ten seconds, and the green blurb appeared.

You were fuming.

An answer never came. The program destructed itself. Damn. You had worked hard on it for hours. Oracle worked harder.

And when a knock sounded on your window pane fifteen minutes later, you learnt that Oracle's associates worked even harder.

A burlap sac was removed from your face, and if you had had the energy to move, you would've snarled at the person in front of you.

Barbara sat, solemn as ever. Her fingers were crossed in front of her chin as she nodded at whoever her associate was. You couldn't get a good look, because you were fucking tied to a chair.

"Really? I'm a hostage?"

Barbara wheeled close to you, until she was just a couple of inches away. "Hardly. These are measures that we've taken so you can't recognize where you are. Except you probably will, you're too smart for your own good."

"Right…" you look around, seemingly around a cave system of sorts. Only what cave had a gym with advanced equipment, several sleek vehicles, display cases of vigilante uniforms and the biggest system of computers you'd ever seen, each one running thousand of terabytes of data at the same time? Oh, and a Nightwing curiously staring at you.

"We're in Batman's lair?"

"Formally called the Batcave, but yes," Nightwing supplied. You looked at the man at the same time Barbara did, fixing him with a stare.

"You can go now, your assistance has been appreciated," she told him. He seemed reluctant to go away from where the action (or rather the drama) would be happening, but one glare from Babs, and he hurried to comply.

Only when he was gone and Barbara was sure of it, did she turn towards you. "I'm sorry I had to kidnap you."

"Are you?" you muttered, which was dutifully ignored.

"You see," she continued, "when these sort of things happen —that is, a civilian discovering one of our identities—, there's a series of protocols that must be followed."

You blinked, horrified. You knew what that meant. "You're going to kill me?"

Barbara seemed shocked at the idea. "Kill you. No silly, we don't kill."

"Okay… so why am I here?"

"Well, since I can't go to you, I asked Nightwing to bring you to me. The chloroform and the burlap sac where just to preserve our location."

You sighed. "Well, I'm here. Apply your protocols."

Barbara moved to you back, where your hands were lightly handcuffed. She undid the binding, letting you free of your holdings as a show of good faith. Then she returned to face you.

She had a booklet of sort in her hands, and she obtained a pen from her cargo pants. "How much for your silence?"

You were stunned. Your mind had been expecting a elaborate threat, some blackmail, anything that was less anticlimactic as this.

"What?" you asked dumbly.

"I'm willing to pay you however much you desire so this information never leaks out."

You couldn't believe it. "Do you even know me at all after all these months?"

It was Barbara's turn to be stunned. "I—."

"No, seriously. What do you think I'm even going to do with the information that you're Oracle. Do you think me so cheap and greedy that I'd tattle to the first person I see. That I'd betray you like that."

"I just—."

"No. It's my turn to talk. You are so intelligent Babs, admirable. But what you have in intelligence you lack in common sense."

Barbara flinched, and it took all you had before you started apologizing.

"Because I can't understand how you don't see what's right in front of you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, Babs, I wouldn't tell anyone anything, for all the riches in the world. So I don't want a filthy paper for you to buy my silence. Not when you've always had it."

Barbara still seemed confused. "Why?"

"Oh, I don't know you idiot. Maybe because I'm in love with you!" you nearly shouted, your voice shaky, weighed down with heavy emotion and tears you refused to let fall.

Barbara opened and shut her mouth several times. Then, all she said was a pathetic: "Me?"

You sighed, placing your head in your hands. "You don't need to buy my silence, Babs. Just let me out of here so we can return to our lives and pretend we never met."

Those words left your mouth and tore a hole through your heart. They physically hurt to say, making a sharp pain shoot through you, but you knew they had to be said. You couldn't handle more of this pain, from knowing that the woman that you loved with your entire soul didn't love you back, and worse, didn't trust you at all.

"What? You drop that bombshell on me and now you want to act like we never met?" You looked up to see that Barbara's pale cheeks were flush with anger.

"Well, there's just no need to add insult to injury. I know my feelings are foolish and don't matter at all in the great scheme of things you're working on. But trust me when I say this: I love you so dearly that the thought of bringing pain to you would kill me. So I won't backstab you when it would mean I'm stabbing myself."

Barbara was wordless. Not for long: "You're feelings are not foolish."

"Come on Babs. Don't be cruel and lead me on when you don't even feel the same."

"I do feel the same!" Barbara burst out. Your heart skipped a beat. And then two. And now you weren't sure if you hadn't gone into cardiac arrest. Barbara had no regards on that front, and she seemed keen to push on: "I feel the same, you brilliant, maddening woman! How could I not, because when I look at you I see my match in every other way… You silly, smart girl, I love you too."

"But you only befriended me to see my ulterior motives."

"No. I took an interest in the woman that was so right in her presumptions of me without even knowing if I was real. It scared the living shit out of me when I saw your tweet. So I sent you that text so you'd delete it before the fire caught more wind. I hadn't taken into account the fact that you could corral me with it the way you did. You're a smart player. So when I agreed on tutoring you… it wasn't some ulterior move of mine. I already knew your intentions aren't wrong. Do you know the amount of information someone can obtain with the simplest social network search? When I saw you in the library that day… it wasn't planned. It was like fate had delivered you straight to my lap. And I couldn't believe it, because life hasn't been kind to me. But suddenly, this angel of a woman, with her endearing nerves and a competent brain behind her eyes was right in front of me and I wanted to believe in stupid things like destiny. God, I've wanted you since I've first saw you. And I fell in love with you inevitably. I just didn't think it would be reciprocated, I know I'm not the easiest to love—."

You didn't think as your limbs led you to her out of your own volition. You grabbed her face and placed your lips on her to silence her rambling.

Barbara tensed. And then relaxed into the kiss. She was just as soft as you had expected her to be. You finally felt like you had cracked open her armor. And she was letting you slide inside.

You pulled away slightly to look down into her eyes. "Loving you is as easy and intuitive as breathing."

A tear slid from Barbara's eye down her cheek, and you wiped it away tenderly, pressing a kiss to replace it. "I don't know what gave you the idea that you were. I guess that's why you pushed me away. But I'm not going anywhere. Not when I've tasted your love."

"And you believe me? That I wasn't trying to hurt you? Just like that?"

"Of course I do. Your methods may be…" you gestured around yourself, "a bit creepy. But I knew what I signed into when I started to play this game with Oracle. And I believe I just won."

"Won what?"

"Your love, Barbara Gordon."

The camera flicks on, fingers covering the view. Between them your face is visible, tongue sticking out as you fix the camera on your tripod. When it's done, you grin, removing your hands from the camera lens and waving.

Your boyfriend takes the clapperboard you brought for occasions like these and says "action," from off the frame. On the clapperboard, in your neat writing, it reads My boyfriend's boyfriend.

"Today," you begin, referring to the camera, "we have a very special guest on our show."

You reach for someone out of frame and gently tug him closer. A blushing Wally West steps closer. He's dressed only in red boxers. You tug him close to you, his bare chest brushing your lingerie clad one as you grin at the camera.

"Isn't he the prettiest?" you ask to someone behind the camera. The answer comes as a soft hum from Dick. He adjusts the zoom, moving the focus closer to your faces.

You're seen cupping Wally's face, which is blushing in the most delightful way, and you plant a kiss right on the corner of his mouth. The crimson imprint of your lips stays behind as proof. "Such a pretty boy. I've wanted to do this for so long, I've had to beg Dick to let me do this."

Dick himself is busy moving the view of the camera along your bodies, lingering on your hands, splayed across Wally's bare chest, Wally's hands groping your ass greedily through the baby doll dress you wear.

Soft moaning sounds can be heard, and he points the focus back on your faces. Zooms in on the hot tangle of your mouths. Your hair is bunched up in Wally's pale hand as he kisses you with such passion that you're leaning back from the force, giggling from the ardor.

"Greedy boy," Dick's gravelly voice sounds louder than yours and Wally's because of his proximity to the microphone. "Pawing at my girlfriend like she's yours. How long have you been thinking about having her like this, hmm?"

Wally pulls away just barely to examine your body. The lust in his green eyes spills thickly in the air between you and is palpable even through the screen. He tugs his lower lips, slightly swollen from your teeth between his as he takes you in. Your smile widens at the attention, knowing you've chosen your outfit wisely: a sheer baby doll dress made of a tulle that does nothing to hide the scarlet lingerie set beneath. The little bows and ribbons that adorn the edges of your outfit just make you seem like a delectable cake he wants to dig his teeth in.

"Not my fault she's so sexy," Wally finally answers Dick, talking as if you weren't even in the room. It just makes you feel even hotter, a match that he lit with his voice and set over your skin. The flames of desire burn through you, only to pool low, making you drip.

Dick, knowing every single one of your tells rapidly clocks the feeling and moves the camera to your bare thighs, which you're subtly rubbing together. He lets out a mellow chuckle, knowing you'll start whining for touch just about now.

And Wally seems to fit right in with your dynamic, because he seems to understand that you need attention too, and in and instant, his hands have started to explore the new territory that's you again.

Dick moves closer with the camera, not wanting to miss any nuance from this. Wally has your back pressed against one of the bedposts of the fourposter bed, the velvet curtain softening the surface for you. His lips are moving all over your face and neck in wet, loud kisses. Your eyes are half closed, relishing the warmth of his attention, his kisses like the sun on your skin. His hands are just as fast in his exploration, one hand holding your head still by bunching in your hair again, while the other gropes around. He digs his fingertips in the plush of your hips, moves them up to slip under the baby doll dress you're wearing. Dick zooms in to capture the path his hand traces through the sheer tulle, moving up the dip of your waist and reaching the soft swell of your breast. You let out a fluttering sigh that the microphone barely catches. It rises into a soft moan as Wally pinches over your nipple, startling you with the slight spike of pleasurable pain.

It draws a chuckle from Dick, still not having stepped in frame. The sound draws your eyes to him, and the camera captures the hunger as it multiples when you see him. You bite your lips, moving your finger in a come hither motion at him as you whisper his name.

"Not yet baby, Wally gets guest privileges," he says. But his hand comes into frame from somewhere behind the camera and catches your finger, bringing your hand up for a kiss on your knuckles. All the camera catches is the soft sound.

You don't seem too distraught by this, and turn your full attention back to Wally, who is trying to undo the ribbon on the front of your dress in the hopes to get more access. But his hands are trembling, and you catch them in your own. "Baby, don't be nervous," you coo, guiding him to tug on one edge of the scarlet ribbon. It unravels and with it your dress loosens further, making it possible for him to lower it from your shoulders ever so slowly, and it falls softly to the carpeted floor at your feet.

He lets out a dirty whistle when he sees you without restriction.

Dick chuckles knowingly again. "She's a beauty, isn't she?" The attention of the two men makes you blush furiously, but you still relish the compliment, preening slightly at it.

Wally's knuckles move over your body, tracing a feather light path from the dip between your collarbones to your stomach, lingering between your breasts.

"Turn around, baby," Dick says in his commanding tone, and you rush to present your back to Wally. He's quick to move your hair aside to get an unobstructed view of your back. The camera glides over the expanse of skin, and finally settles on your ass, fully out thanks to the g-string you're wearing.

Wally moves his hand to the plumpness of it, and gives it a squeeze, making you feel even hotter. You feel his fingers, dipping along the curves of your skin, so close to where you ache for touch, and yet so far away.

He moves one of his hands away, and you almost complain until you feel a long finger slip between your heated skin and the pearl string at your back, pulling it slowly and then letting it snap back against your supple skin. It doesn't hurt, but it makes you whimper anyway.

Dick laughs at the show, enjoying your torment. You turn your head at him and scowl playfully. He's standing relatively close, so you can easily reach out for his chin and tug him in for a quick kiss. The balance of the camera slips, and for a few frames all that's visible is chaos among Dick's curses and Wally and your giggles, before he manages to focus it again.

In retaliation, he delivers a quick slap on your bare ass, making you squeal in surprise. You pout pitifully at him, but Wally is quick to deliver his sweetness to appease you.

He kneels down behind you and starts kissing the tender skin. You sigh at his softness, threading your hands between his luscious locks. "Oh, Wally baby. You're so sweet to me."

Wally just smiles against your skin. He gently maneuvers your to bend over the edge of the bed, and Dick moves stealthily to capture his moves. He wastes no seconds on pulling the gusset of your g-string — a shade darker of red from all the wetness there — aside and spreading you properly for the camera to capture.

The warm lights overhead make it clear how excited you are, the glint of liquid desire twinkling enticingly. Dick has but a second to capture it on camera before Wally's head is buried between your legs, making your moan loudly. Your back arches as you grip the satin sheets to channel all this insurmountable pleasure somewhere.

Dick moves again, finding a better angle to capture this moment, just above your head. His knees dip the mattress in front of you as he settles in to capture the elegant position of your tensed body and Wally's own blissed out expression from just eating you out.

You on the other hand have found the perfect dessert hanging just in front of your own eyes. The camera can see as you move your hand to brush over the bulge between your boyfriend's thighs through his jeans, just level with your face. He's quick to swat your hand away, making you pout for him.

He captures the beautiful expression, and with a sigh that tells one that this is not the first time this has happened, he utters a low "fine". You're quick to unbuckle his belt with urgency, and in no time you have his beautiful cock between your fingers.

You tap his stomach so he can angle his camera away from Wally, who's doing wonders down between your thighs to his own dick. You grin up at the camera, toying with him playfully as you try to retain your moans. "My favorite candy," you say, before taking him in your mouth as deep as you could without gagging. A particular move Wally does with his tongue makes you moan around Dick, which in turn makes him moan.

The camera becomes slightly less steady for a second, before Dick takes a deep breath in and focuses back diligently on the scene in front of him. He's not letting this beautiful shot go to waste. So he barely moans as you work him, more entranced by the way Wally was making you shudder and tremble.

He captures all your muffled whines, your surprised squeal when Wally pushes two fingers in you, the dirty slurping sounds he makes, the focused expression in his pretty green eyes. Focused to make you fall apart. And in matter of a couple of minutes, he has you moaning in delight. Dick moves the camera to your face. His cock was long forgotten, not that he minded as you closed your eyes, fingers digging into his thighs as you moaned Wally's name. The darkening flesh of your cheeks and nose, the disheveled hair, the deep arch of your spine, before you let out a shuddering breath and collapsed on the mattress.

Only then does Wally step back, standing up over your limp body. Dick moves the camera to his face, shiny with his own spit and your arousal.

"You broke my girlfriend," Dick says in a mocking tone. Wally just grins proudly, caressing your back.

You shift, rolling to your back, a satisfied smile on your lips. Your fingers reach up for the camera, and this time Dick gives it to you.

You disappear from the frame as you take the reins, sitting up, and focus the camera on Wally. "Look at this tasty boy," you coo. "Don't be fooled by his innocent face." You move your hand in frame to caress his cheek appreciatively, and he leans into it without complain.

Then finally does Dick enter the frame, looking over at you appreciatively once before his eyes move on to his friend. You let out a laugh. "Watch these two hotties make out passionately," you announce, and they seem surprised. "What, you really thought I was the only one getting frisky tonight? Go on, I know you boys have thought about it."

Wally and Dick share a look, then they shrug. The camera captures as they move as one, coming closer and finally they kiss. Their hands move over each other frantically, memorizing the sinewy muscle that covered them. "Yes," you say beyond the camera. "Wally get my Dick naked." You giggle at the unintentional pun.

Wally complies without question as Dick shoots you a look. You move the focus of the camera over every length of exposed skin, one pale and scattered with the prettiest freckles and the other sun kissed and familiar like a warm summer night. Both of them well adorned with pale scars. Your camera skill didn't shine as much as Dick's, but the sentiment was there, behind the shakiness and your comments.

You move the focus up as Dick is in the process of eating Wally's face off, tasting you on him. "The lion has captured the cheetah, and is now eating off his face," you say in a National Geographic documentary tone.

Dick and Wally immediately step back, looking at you with varying amounts of amusement mixed with annoyance. You giggle. "Sorry, sorry. I'll try to channel my inner sexy." When they still don't kiss, you whine loudly, nudging Dick's hip with your foot.

When they're back at it, you zoom in more, capturing the hot tangle of tongues. "Fuck, look at that. Two swords are fighting for dominance. Who will win?"

Dick pulls away again, saying your name with exasperation. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. That was the last one. I promise."

You angled the camera down to their hips. Both of them are in their boxers, and Dick is palming Wally through the fabric, making him whimper and tremble. You capture as Dick's nimble fingers slip inside Wally's boxers and pull out his cock. You suck in an audible breath, trying to get a good angle of it, but your boyfriend's thick arm his covering your view. So you swat him aside and ignore the low growl in his throat. Future you will deal with the consequences of your bratty attitude. Right now all that mattered was Wally and his pretty dick.

Your hand reaches out to touch him appreciatively. The contact makes him moan ever so softly, and a dribble of precum leaks from his head. You gather it in your fingers and angle the camera towards your face as you suck on your fingers. You close your eyes, relishing on the taste. "The perfect balance of sweet and salty. Eleven out of ten, Wally."

You turn the camera enough to capture him going red, before Dick cups his face and pulls his attention away from you. "Ignore her, she's trying to take away your attention."

You just giggle, not refuting the accusation as they kiss again. The scene of the two sexy men gets you going again, and your fingers slip between your legs, the camera going shaky again.

The next time they pull away slightly for air again, your eyes meet with Dick's, and you gesture at Wally. He seems to understand your message, and presses his friend down gently with his hands on his shoulders. Wally seems to get the message, and lowers himself to his knees.

You step up to get closer to the scene and whisper in Wally's ear. "Baby have you ever sucked a dick?" At the nervous shake of his head, the camera exchanges hands back to Dick, and it shows the two of you kneeling down in front of him. You gently guiding him along the actions, you hand on the nape of Wally's neck, whispering praises and offering soothing when it gets to much. All the while you press kisses on his cheek and shoulder.

Dick gives out a soft warning, and out of mercy, you pull Wally away from his cock and take his place. Dick lets out some sexy groans and moans as he comes, making Wally stare up at him almost in wonder.

You just grin, pulling away and sticking out your tongue to show your price to the camera.

Dick lets out a shuddering breath, caressing Wally's jaw gently.

Then you look at Wally and smile, kissing his cheek. "My sweet Wally. He's been so good to us, Dickie. His mouth works wonders, but what about him?" you say, gently gripping Wally's cock. He lets out a whimper, and you coo, kissing his temple. "I know baby. You need attention."

You start moving your hand at a faster pace, twisting your wrist expertly at the top and bringing it down to the bottom. Wally's moans rise in volume, and he quickly has to grip your wrist. "Wait!" he says in a panicked tone, making you laugh softly.

"You almost came from that, Wally baby?" you tease him, almost meanly. "I haven't even begun my fun."

Dick lets out a chuckle.

"Besides, I want you inside of me, baby. Can you handle that?" you tease, nipping at his earlobe. Wally looks absolutely terrified and thrilled all at once.

You lead him towards the bed, making him lay down gently. He swallows hard as Dick supplies you with a condom for you to slide on Wally's cock.

He helps you straddle him like a gentleman, before you sink down on his cock, made easy by the mix of both your arousal. Both of you let out a moan, as Dick steps behind you to capture his reaction.

The bed creaks nastily at the way you start to move, and Wally seems in a trance by the feeling of you around him. His hands reach up to cup your breasts, still covered by your bra. Dick helps him on that front, unclasping your bra and helping you take it off, before throwing it aside somewhere.

With your tits out, Wally stares a moment to admire them, green eyes gleaming. He leans forward, sitting up so he can give them the proper attention they need.

Dick on the other hand sneaks his hand down to slip between your legs, rubbing tight circles on your clit, helping you reach your own high. You moan loudly right next to the camera, a buzzing starting to invade your very being. All that tension gathers, and a well aimed upwards thrust from Wally’s hips breaks it, making you keen and clench as your high takes over you.

It doesn't take much for Wally to come. He does it beautifully. Both you and your boyfriend watch as a flush takes over his cheeks, intense and overpowering. His eyes shine, eyes half lidded, as he moans your name, before falling back on the mattress with a sigh.

You look over your shoulder at the camera and Dick, grinning. "And this is how you ride your boyfriend's boyfriend."