feral friday: batboys on their wedding night--18+ under the cut
AN: a dear irl of mine is getting married in less than a month, i am so excited to be going so that inspired this train of thought.
warnings: no beta/barely edited, casual nudity, splish splash i was taking a bath, hair pulling, nipple play, f recieving oral, dry humping, spanking, little fingering as a treat, mutual possession, biting
masterlist
bruce:
you shudder under the intesity of his gaze. you resist the urge to cover yourself with your hands, your wedding dress on the floor. bruce strips down to his boxers, picking up your dress and hanging it up in the closet.
with the private jet delayed due to a storm, your honeymoon start is moved to tomorrow morning, you have no idea what bruce has running through his mind. he's a planner so throwing him off of his groove requires some adjustment time.
you two have the manor to yourselves--for some reason the gaggle of children didn't want to disturb you on your wedding night--so you try to relax him. "b, do you want to take a bath?"
"together?" bruce looks over his shoulder at you.
you nod, chewing on your lower lip.
"i'll start up the bathtub." bruce walks into the adjacent bathroom, turning on the tub, feeling the water.
you follow him, turning on the shower, you both use baths to relax and soak and breathe, not to get clean. you feel the water, and once it is warm enough, you strip out of your bra and underwear, quickly hopping in. you lather up soap in a washcloth, smirking when bruce, now naked, joined you. he takes over, scrubbing you down and you do the same for him. together, you neglect drying off, padding over to the now steaming tub.
bruce helps you in, keeping you steady on your feet. you sit, edging forward so he can sit behind you. once he's seated, he grips your hips, dragging you to him. you sit flush to his chest, between his legs, your hands on his knees.
he turns his attention to your hair, slowly undoing your updo, placing the absurd amount of bobby pins of the edge. once your hair is down, you lean against his chest fully, not caring if it gets wet. you turn and plant a kiss to his cheek in a silent thanks. he hums, and you feel him fully relax. a haze of happiness rolls over you and you are content to remain in his arms forever.
dick:
"absolutely the fuck not." you grit out, hands on the living room wall.
"jesus christ." dick mutters, growing frustrated with the amount on tiny buttons on your dress. nevertheless, he presses a kiss to the newly exposed skin on your back.
"we can ask--"
"nope, i can do this." dick cuts you off. "i'm your husband. and i am--" he cuts himself off with another grunt of frustration. "fucking hell. are you sure i can't cut it?"'
"yes, dick."
finally, dick manages to open enough buttons that you can squeeze the dress over your hips and step out. he wolf whistles at you, and you blush, knowing that your messed up hair and makeup must be a sight to behold.
he takes your hand and steps closer, you meet him halfway, kissing him for the twelfth time as husband and wife. he pulls away with a grin. "you want to help me undress?"
"yes, please." you smile, pushing the jacket off of his shoulders, unbuttoning his vest and the button-up underneath. you kiss him again, opening his pants and shoving him down. you then step out of your crinoline, unbuckling your shoes and taking off your underwear.
you smirk. "last to the bedroom has to give head first." you take off running.
dick, in his undressed surprised, yanks off his shoes and pants, dashing after you. by the time he gets the bedroom, you're already laying on the bed on your stomach, rummaging around the nightstand for the toys you want to use. he grips your ankles, pulling you down to him. "guess i lost." he smirks.
you yelp, rolling over to face him with a giggle. "i want to cash in my prize immediately." he nods and kisses you with a smile, hands kneading your breasts. he works his way down your jaw and your neck, occasionally sucking hard enough to bruise. one of your hands rubs his back, the other in his hair, tugging at the scalp. he moves down your body, mouth enclosing around your nipple, suckling gently, your head tips back into a moan.
"mrs. grayson," he murmurs against the skin and you're so in love with the way that his voice sounds right now you wish to bottle it.
"yes, mr. grayson?" you reply as he kisses down your stomach.
"i love you." his hands separate your thighs, staring lovingly at your cunt like a man staring at water droplets after crossing the desert.
"i love you." you reply, your hands carding through his hair. he starts to hum, lips pressed against your clit, and you feel the vibrations echo throughout your body. he sets to his task eagerly, tongue on your clit, fingers circling your entrance. he sucks and licks, one finger sliding in and then two, curling them just so. you moan, hips bucking into his minstrations before his spare hands pushes you back against the bed.
your breathing becomes ragged, hands tugging at his hair. when your orgasm crashes over you, dick pulls his mouth away—wanting to watch you cum—keeping his fingers slowing to work your through the aftershocks, his other hand spanning your lower stomach, adding a little pressure that makes you see stars. you writhe as much as you can with your husband holding you down, moaning his name. slowly, he retreats his finger and you whine at the lost, pussy clenching around air.
he licks his fingers into his mouth, moaning at your taste. you watch as he leans forward, his hands resting on either side of your head, kissing you so you can taste yourself. you moan into the kiss, hands in his hair, keeping him close. he slowly pulls away but you drag him back down with need. “dickie,” you hum, pleased and complacent in his arms.
“right here, baby, im not gonna anywhere.”
jason:
your breath hitches when you feel jay press his body against yours. you’re still in your wedding dress, he’s still his suit, but the blistering heat radiating from him is felt through all of your layers of clothing. your head leans back, hitting his chest, your hips push back against his. he groans in your ears, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock rubs against your ass.
“jesus, jay,” you chew on your lower lip. you two had just walked into your apartment when your husband had pounced on you.
he unzips your dress, hands feeling around your waist before going north, tugging down your strapless bra. one hand fiddles with your nipple, the other sliding down, cupping your clothed cunt. you moan, pressing yourself harder against him.
jay presses you forward, waking you into the kitchen and you lean against the table for support. he thrusts once, the clear outline of his cock felt despite your frills and lace. you moan his name as one of his fingers presses against your clothed clit. it’s not a direct contact, but the promise of something more makes you pant. he dry humps you, not letting you even out of your dress before he is in your panties, finally giving some sweet relief to your clit. “good wife. soaked for me. gonna ruin these fucking clothes.”
you moan at his words, how relentlessly he wants you. you lean back against him, pushing back your hips, meeting his thrusts.
“fucking hell, thought about this all fucking day.” he swears, pressing kissing to your shoulder.
“wanting to claim me as your wife?”
“fuck yes, you’ve always been mine.” jason sinks his teeth into your shoulder.
you moan out “you’re mine” as he sends you over the edge, your orgasm making you weak in the knees.
jay props you up, thrusting, using your body for his own release. quickly, his thrust lose this pace and becomes erratic, he moans your name, kissing the placer where he bit you as he comes.
you two stand there for a moment, breathing as you both come down from your high. slowly jason retreats his hands and you whine at the loss of contact. “jay—fuck the gifts are still in the car.”
“fuck the gifts.” jay turns you around to face him, he quickly throws you over his shoulder before you can blink, carting you with a smack on the ass to the bedroom. “you’re mine. i’ll get them in the morning.”
Summary: You never thought your path would cross with Mark Reynolds again, not after everything. But fate and a second chance, bring you back together in the most unexpected way.
Warnings: Minors DNI. Explicit sexual content. (Includes one detailed, consensual sex scene that includes nudity as well as PinV intercourse.)
Word Count: 3,389
Prompt + Pairing: “Reality is even better than my dreams” + Mark Reynolds
Author's Note: GIF in header from @kaizsche
The street bustled with late afternoon life. Vendors packing up their stalls, bicycles rattling past on cobblestone, the scent of roasted chestnuts lingering in the crisp air. You walked between your parents, hand tucked into the sleeves of your coat, still adjusting to life back in England after your studies.
Your mother pointed out a new bookshop on the corner, and your father remarked on how the pubs seemed livelier. You were nodding politely, only half listening, when a familiar voice cut through.
“Is that who I think it is?”
You turned, heart leaping as your eyes landed on him. Mark Reynolds. Taller than you remembered. The Navy coat he wore only made him seem broader in the shoulders. His hair was a touch longer than when you’d last seen him a few years back. The smile was the same, genuine and beautiful.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said with a soft laugh, stepping closer.
“Mark Reynolds,” you said, just as surprised. “You’re a long way from New York.”
“And you’re a long way from Juliet’s kitchen table,” he said, the fondness in his voice unmistakable. “What’s it been…three years?”
You nodded. “Just about. You look well.”
He leaned in carefully, his hand brushing your elbow, warm through the wool of your coat, and pressed a light kiss to your cheek. His lips lingered just long enough to make your stomach flutter, but not long enough to be improper.
“I’m glad to see you,” he said, stepping back. “Truly. Are you back in London?”
You smile and nod. “I’m here with my parents.”
He glanced behind you, finally noticing the older couple standing a few paces away. They wore nearly identical expressions: curious, polite, and trying not to stare.
“Mark, these are my parents.”
“A pleasure,” he said with a cordial nod to each of them.
Your father gave a polite nod. Your mother, however seemed a little more amused.
“Mr. Reynolds,” she said. “Are you the American we’ve heard about?”
“That depends,” he said smoothly. “Am I being praised or blamed?”
Your father gave a rare chuckle.
Mark turned back to you. “I don’t want to keep you, but if you’re not otherwise engaged, would you care for a short walk?”
You hesitated, looking over to your parents.
Your father cleared his throat. “I suppose it’s not uncommon these days for young women to walk accompanied…”
“But it’s still uncommon for you,” you mutter under your breath.
Your mother smiled tightly, trying to smooth the tension between her husband and her daughter. “We wouldn’t mind a bit of air ourselves.”
Mark didn’t miss a beat. “Then please, allow me to escort your daughter while you stroll at your own pace. You’ll have us in view the whole time.”
He held out his arm to you, and you accepted it with a faint sigh and an apologetic smile. “Thank you for being a good sport.”
You walked together through the gates of St. James’s Park, the busy streets fading behind you as gravel paths curved beneath the golden leafed trees. The afternoon had that muted quality London sometimes carried in late summer. Warm, but not hot. An evening sky painted in pale blues and soft oranges.
Mark glanced down at you. “You’ve been writing again.”
You tilted your head up, mildly surprised he could guess. “How do you know?”
“I remember how your fingers twitched when you were working on something. You used to scribble plot points in the margins of books, remember?”
“Thankfully I’ve outgrown that habit.” You said as you felt the heat creeping up your neck.
“I always checked the pages after you wrote something in them. You had a way with words.”
You laughed. “I don’t know if I’d go that far. But yes, I’ve been writing again. Mostly short things. A few essays, maybe a fully story if I can sit still long enough to finish it.”
His expression softened. “I’m glad. The world needs more of your voice.”
You glanced down at the path you were walking. “And what about you? Is New York everything you hoped it would be?”
“It’s noisy,” he said. “Restless. But brilliant in it’s way. I’m not sure it ever sleeps. But it keeps me moving.”
You turned toward him slightly. “Do you like it?”
“I like what it’s made me,” he said, then paused. “But it doesn’t feel like home.”
You nodded. “Nothing really does anymore after the war, does it?”
There was a silence between you. Not heavy, just thoughtful. The kind of quiet that settled when two people were carefully stepping around familiar feelings.
He broke it with a soft, curious question. “Have you heard from Juliet?”
You shook your head. “Not as often. She writes when she can, but Guernsey feels feels very far away sometimes.”
He seemed to consider that, then said, “She always had a bit of wanderlust.”
“She did.”
A breeze stirred the hem of your skirt. Birds chirped in the distance. And behind you, your mother’s voice lifted. A soft reminder that they hadn’t disappeared, only lingered.
You sighed and looked at Mark again. “They’re probably wondering what we’re talking about.”
Mark chuckled. “Then let’s give them something worth talking about.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you dare.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
But the way he looked at you, amused and warm and just a little too knowing, made you wonder if he already had.
The walk back to your parents’ home was a gentle one. The streetlights had flickered on by the time you reached the front gate, casting a golden glow over the stone steps of the townhouse.
Your father offered Mark a warm handshake while your mother touched his arm, thanking him politely for the company.
Mark turned to you last.
“I hope I didn’t overstay,” he said softly.
“You didn’t,” you said smiling. “I had a lovely time.”
He hesitated then, his hands deep in the pockets of his overcoat. The wind tugged at the edge of his scarf, but he didn’t seem to notice. His eyes were on you as he cleared his throat before continuing.
“I’m heading back to New York in a few days, but I’d like to see you again before I go. If you’d allow it.”
Your heart did something foolish in your chest.
“I’d like that,” you answered, a bit breathless.
A smile bloomed on his face, boyish and bright. “Tomorrow, then? Dinner?”
You nodded. “Tomorrow.”
“Until then,” he murmured before he reached out and gently took your hand, pressing a light kiss to your knuckles.
And with that, he stepped back and disappeared into the lamplit fog of the London street, his silhouette fading between the light poles.
* * * * * * * *
The very next morning, a bouquet of garden roses arrived at your family’s townhouse with a handwritten note folded inside thick ivory stationery.
Your mother smiled knowingly when she saw the flowers, and you tried not to blush.
That evening you were upstairs, tugging on a pair of earrings and running your fingers through your hair one last time, when your mother’s voice floated up the stairs.
“Sweetheart, you have a visitor!”
By the time you came downstairs, your mother was standing in the front hallway chatting easily with Mark, who was dressed in a crisp navy suit and dark tie. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, a smile blooming across his face that warmed you from the inside out.
“There she is,” he said softly. “You look beautiful.”
You noticed your mother cast a knowing glance toward the dining room of the townhouse. Your father appeared a moment later.
Mark straightened slightly,” Sir.”
Your father looked Mark up and down for a beat, then glanced at your mother. She nudged him, and he sighed through his nose.
“She’ll be back by ten.”
Mark nodded. “Of course.”
Your father eyed him for a moment longer, then turned to you. “Have a good time, sweetheart.”
And with that Mark extended his arm to you, and the two of you were out the door. Mark held the passenger door of his sedan open, waiting until you were settled before closing it and making his way around to the driver’s side.
He took you to a cozy, upscale restaurant on the edge of town, tucked just far enough away that the world felt quieter. The tables were candlelit, and the low hum of piano music filled the space. A host greeted the two of you and led you both to a quiet corner table already waiting.
Dinner was easy. Mark was a natural conversationalist, but he never dominated. He asked questions about your writing, your family, your thoughts on different things. The part you were most impressed by was that he actually listened to the answers. He laughed when you teased him, and offered thoughtful replies when you challenged him.
The food was exceptional. Stuffed chicken with herb potatoes, followed by a shared slice of chocolate torte.
When the bill came, Mark insisted on paying, insisting it was “his privilege.”
He walked you to the car, opening your door again. The silence as he drove you home was warm and comfortable.
When you reached the house, he walked you to the front steps.
“I hope your father approves of the time,” Mark said, glancing at his watch. “Nine forty six.”
You smiled. “He’ll appreciate the precision.”
Mark hesitated then, hands tucked into his pockets. “I’d like to see you again. Soon.”
Your heart skipped as you looked down a little nervously. “I’d like that too.”
There was another pause, and then he leaned in. It was slow and unhurried, like he was waiting for the slightest indication to stop.
When you didn’t give one, Mark’s hand lifted, brushing gently along your jaw before settling at the side of your face. His thumb swept softly across your cheek. His other hand found your waist. When his lips met yours, it was soft and sure. Unhurried but intentional. He kissed you like he meant it, like he’d been thinking about it since the moment he laid eyes on you again.
You leaned into him instinctively, your hands curling into the fabric of his jacket. His lips moved against yours. Once then twice, before he paused. His forehead rested briefly against yours. You smiled, heart pounding, nose brushing his as your breath mingled in the space between.
And then he kissed you again. This time deeper. Still gentle, but a little more confident. Like he couldn’t quite help himself. His hand slid to to the small of your back, pulling you just a breath closer, and your fingers found his collar, anchoring yourself as your knees went just the slightest bit weak.
When he finally pulled away, it was gradual, like he didn’t want to let go. His eyes opened first, dark and a little dazed. But lit with something unmistakably fon. His thumb lingered against your cheek before he smiled.
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he murmured.
You laughed, breathless, as your smile stretched wide. “I think I’m starting to.”
He chuckled under his breath, like he didn’t quite believe this was real.
“Goodnight,” he said at last.
You hesitated on the step, still grinning as you looked at him. “Goodnight, Mark.”
And only once the door had clicked shut behind you did you press a hand to your lips, and let yourself giggle in the quiet.
* * * * *
The six months that followed that first date were a flurry of letters, crackling international phone calls, and brief weekends in London. All of them laced with stolen moments, and aching goodbyes.
Now you found yourself standing in the middle of Manhattan’s Upper West Side with your hand in Mark’s while your parents were off sightseeing.
“This is it,” Mark said, turning the key and pushing open the door of a beautiful brownstone tucked on a quiet street. “She’s a little old, but she’s got charm.”
You stepped in and gasped. High ceilings, crown molding, sunlight spilling through tall windows. Warm wood floors, a fireplace, and a cozy kitchen in the back.
“She?” You teased, as you walked further inside.
Mark smiled. “She. I just closed on her last week.”
“You bought this place?”
“I did,” he nodded, watching your face carefully. “I know it’s early, but I wanted something that felt…grounded. A place that felt like home. Somewhere I can imagine myself settling down.”
You turned slowly, taking in the space. “It’s beautiful, Mark.”
He stepped closer, and wrapped an arm around your waist. “I picture holidays here. Dinners with friends. Maybe a kid or two running down the hallway. A wife. A family.” His voice was soft as he looked down at you. “Someone to share it all with.”
You smiled, trying to hide how his words made you tremble slightly. “Sounds like a dream.”
“Yeah,” he said, his eyes still on you. “One I’d really like to make real.”
That evening it felt like the brownstone had been transformed. The lights were dimmed, a bottle of wine open on the counter. Mark moved around the kitchen with his sleeves rolled up. Something that smelled absolutely heavenly seared in a pan. Frank Sinatra played from a record player in the living room.
You leaned against the counter grinning. “You know this is totally unfair, right? Tall, handsome, and a good cook?”
“Just trying to impress a girl,” he smirked.
“I think you’ve already done that.”
He met your gaze, a smile on his lips. When the food was done, you at by candlelight. Roasted chicken, rosemary potatoes, fresh bread from the bakery around the corner. He poured you another glass of wine and the conversation flowed. It was slow and easy. Laughter. Stories. Comfort in being with each other.
After dinner you helped him clear the dishes, and when you finished washing the last of the dishes you turned and found him standing close.
You didn’t speak. You didn’t need to. His hand rose, brushing your cheek. His eyes flicked from yours to your lips. Slowly he leaned in, and you met him halfway.
The kiss was soft at first. Tender and slightly tentative. His hands found your waist as yours slid up his chest. Then he pulled you closer, one hand pressing gently to the small of your back, deepening the kiss.
You sighed against his mouth, melting into him. The weeks and months of waiting to see him again, of imagining were finally over.
When he finally pulled back, breathless and smiling, his forehead touched yours.
He kissed you again, this time slower. Softer. There’s no urgency, no hunger. Just the steady thrum of affection and something deeper settling into place. His hands slid around your waist, and pulled you closer. You melted against him, your fingers threading into the back of his hair. It was the kind of kiss that spoke in quiet promises and in unspoken truths.
You barely heard him the first time, his voice muffled by the brush of his mouth against yours.
“Marry me,” he murmured between kisses.
You froze, just for a second, before you pulled back enough to meet his eyes. “What?”
Mark’s lips twitched with a soft smile, his thumb gently swept over your cheek. Then he reached for something on the counter. Something you hadn’t noticed before. Then he lowered to one knee. You stand there, heart racing as he held a small velvet box and opened it. The ring caught the low light and sparkled beautifully.
Mark’s eyes found yours, steady and full of emotion. “I meant what I said. When I said I wanted to share this home with someone. I don’t want a future that doesn’t have you here with me. Will you please do the honor of marrying me?”
You couldn’t speak for a moment. Your hand was trembling as you pressed it over your chest.
“Yes,” you whispered.
Mark exhaled like he had been holding that breath for days. His hands trembled just a little as he took the ring from the box, the soft glint of the diamond catching the warm light of the room. He held your left hand in his, thumb brushing over your knuckles. His touch was tender, almost reverent, like he was afraid to break the spell.
Your breath hitched at the sight of it on your hand. It was perfect, absolutely perfect.
He stood and pulled you into him again. His lips brushed yours once then twice. His hands reached up to cradle your face as his thumb stroked your cheek with aching gentleness.
You clutched at his shirt, fingertips curling into the fabric as his mouth moved over yours with soft, steady pressure. He groaned when you leaned into him, and the sound rumbled through his chest.
“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, like a confession and a promise all at once.
“I love you,” you breathed back, and it was the easiest thing you’d ever said.
His forehead rested against yours for a long beat as his eyes fluttered closed. Then his hands drifted. One trailed slowly down your side, the other slipped beneath the hem of your shirt. His palm was warm against your bare skin, and the touch made you shiver. He didn’t rush. Didn’t push. Just explored. The pads of his fingers touched your waist, your ribs, the soft dip of your spine.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, eyes locked on yours as he gently lifted your shirt over your head. “So damn beautiful.”
You started to feel nervous, but then his hands were back on you. His mouth followed, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, and across your collarbone. Every press of his lips was slow and reverent.
When your hands found the hem of his shirt, he let you take it off of him. You looked at him, all of him. His skin was warm beneath your fingertips, muscles shifting as he breathed. He watched you with so much tenderness it made your chest ache.
He kissed you again, deeper this time, with more urgency but still that same care. When he laid you down beneath him, it was with a gentleness that made you feel treasured, safe and wanted.
“We don’t have to–” he murmured as his mouth brushed your jaw.
“I want you,” you whispered, as you cupped his cheek with your hand. “I want this. I want you.”
He exhaled shakily, and it was like that broke something open between you. This soft, glowing thread of longing pulled tighter, and drew you closer. His hands were everywhere. Your breath stuttered when he kissed down your stomach, when he slid his hand between your thighs, and when he whispered your name like a prayer.
Everything was slow. Measured. A steady build of heat and love and want until you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.
When he finally pushed into you, it was overwhelming. A stretch, a burn, but a perfect kind of fullness that steals your breath. He stilled instantly, brushed your hair back, murmured your name again, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“You okay?” He asked, voice rough with restraint.
You nodded. “More than.”
The way he moved was careful at first. Small shifts of his hips, each one sending a ripple of pleasure through you. And when your fingers dug into his back, when your hips lifted to meet his, that’s when it shifted.
It was not just about the heat, though there was plenty of that. It was the way he kissed your throat. The way he murmured that he’s got you when your breath hitched. The way he looked at you like he had never seen anything more beautiful.
It was slow and soft and full of every unspoken thing you’ve ever felt for him.
By the time you came undone, you weren’t even sure where you ended and he began. He followed you moments later, with a ragged moan against your neck and your name whispered like worship.
And when it’s over, he didn’t let you go.
He wrapped you in his arms, tucked you against his chest, and pressed a kiss to your temple that lingered longer than any before.
“You…this…my reality is even better than my dreams.”
thinking about jason todd leaning down to hear you when you talk.
if i’m being honest, i feel like he does it often. sometimes, it’s because it’s a little too noisy where you’re at, and other times, it’s because you’re a little too soft-spoken, which makes it hard to hear you. overall, it’s because jason is just too damn big for his own good, so, most of the time, he just can’t hear you and has to lean in close so you don’t have to repeat yourself again for a third or fourth time.
it happens like this: he’ll be standing next to you with his arms crossed over his chest, eyes focused raptly on something going on in front of him. maybe it’s the news, maybe it’s a movie being watched on the couch by your friends— whatever it is, jason is locked in, jaw set in concentration as he focuses on what he’s seeing. then, when you quietly add commentary, his brows will twitch and he’ll mindlessly turn his head to the side, prompting you to say whatever you said again. it’s autopilot for jason— like it’s programmed into him already.
he doesn’t move all at once, either. his head turns first, then his body follows, but his eyes? oh, those fall to you last. his pretty blue eyes (that also flicker with this mysterious shade of green sometimes) stay trained on what’s in front of him for a few seconds longer. in comparison to the rest of his body, it’s almost as if they’re on a delay.
it’s only after he mumbles a quiet “hm?” to get you to speak again does he finally look at you, hinged at the hip with that white tuft of hair he has hanging in his face. all he’s met with in return is the lack of an audible response and the sight of you staring up at him in awe, your jaw slack and your eyes wide. whatever you were saying is clearly lost on you now, and jason realizes that, but it’s not a big deal. it would never be a big deal. you’re just nervous, and luckily for him, jason loves making you nervous.
“i didn’t say anything,” you lie unconvincingly, throat hoarse from this sudden bout of dryness that’s seemed to set in. you whip your head back towards the tv and jason snorts at your reaction, standing back up to full height with a cheeky grin plastered across his face.
“yeah, okay,” he replies, doing nothing to hide the amusement in his voice. “whatever helps y’sleep at night.”
“my boyfriend wants to show you his books, and you better say they’re cool,” you demanded while glaring at the camera. an amused jason could be seen in the back as you made way for him to take center stage. “go, babe.”
“hi,” your boyfriend awkwardly greeted before showing off the two paperback books in his hands. “so this one is ‘frankenstein’ by mary shelley. i know we all dreaded reading it in high school, but i really relate to frankenstein’s monster, and the story’s pretty good if you just give it a chance. plus, it’s a pioneer for the science-fiction genre, so that’s cool.”
you could be seen behind jason making threatening gestures with your hands, almost as if to say ‘leave a nice comment, or you’re getting blocked!’
“and this one is ‘pride and prejudice’ by jane austen. another oldie but a classic,” jason said with a nonchalant shrug. “the writing’s beautiful, and i love elizabeth’s character because she reminds me of a certain someone. probably one of my favourite books of all time and just a really good comfort read.”
he turned to see your face quickly morph into heart-eyes and a sweet smile.
“good job, honey. that was a great presentation,” you praised before giving his cheek a loving kiss.
“oh, and i’m also part of a book club. we meet at the community center in the bowery every thursday evening. new members are always welcome,” jason off-handedly added.
“and new members are always welcome,” you sharply reiterated, glancing at the camera with a scary scowl and furrowed brows. “see you thursdays.”
gothambaddiexoxo commented: this man was written by a woman lol
singleasapringle commented: girl, where can i get myself a boyfriend like this 😭
birdzofprey0 commented: sooo does everyone in this book club look like him or?? asking for a friend
inspired by this video here. REBLOGS and COMMENTS are greatly appreciated
I think Jason is the type of wedding guest to only look at you throughout the entire reception. And oh, if you’re a bridesmaid, you’re in trouble because he’s locked in on you everywhere you go. You in your pretty dress, hair styled perfectly- even when you cry at the exchanged “I do’s”, you look so pretty. And as the groom and bride are reciting their vows- and your eyes start to well up with tears, you turn your head in search for the pair of pretty bluegreen eyes to find them already watching you. This look he’s giving you, it almost knocks you off your feet- the intensity of it. You feel caught in his gaze. He looks absolutely gone, like he’s just realized something you haven’t yet. His eyes, usually so guarded, now full of awe and devotion as he mouths “I love you”. Meant for you and only you.
a/n: tried to include the IA billet to keep things truer to canon but my research comes from google so, us naval personnel, feel free to correct me in the replies - other than that, enjoy!
summary: jake comes home early from deployment to a very pretty view
warnings: SMUT 17+, soft!dom!Jake, p in v, (f!) masturbation, use of vibrator, brief mention of homemade porn, lowkey voyeurism, oral (f!receiving)
word count: 2.7k
visual is for vibes only, reader’s appearance is nondescript!
You loved your boyfriend more than anything, and you had nothing but respect for the time and care he’d poured into his military career over the last decade.
But even after all these years, you still couldn’t understand why Jake insisted on volunteering for deployments he didn’t have to take.
He’d argue that it was just part of the job. That when they called, he answered.
This time, he’d been shipped out to the other side of the world, promising to be back in no more than seven months.
An Individual Augmentee billet in international waters - filling a gap in manpower, he’d said. You couldn’t stop him from going and he knew you wouldn’t try.
He’d kissed you goodbye on the curb outside the base, tossed his duffel over one shoulder and waved until he was out of sight.
That was five months ago. And you still had weeks to go before he was in your arms again.
As much as you hated to admit it, you’d been missing more than just Jake’s presence in your home.
You weren’t crazy, of course, you worried about his safety, but the days were long and the nights even longer without his touch. And the dull ache between your legs was getting harder to ignore.
Your own fingers just didn’t cut it anymore. Not even the videos you’d made together could satisfy you the way he could.
Tonight, you’d spent over an hour spread out on your bed, fingers trailing lazily over your clit, as you watched back those homemade videos.
You were painfully worked up, but nothing could tip you over the edge.
Not even the video from your last birthday. God, if you could’ve tattooed it on the inside of your skull, you would’ve.
That day was the one time Jake had let you take the lead - your strong-willed, cocky pilot had unravelled into a desperate, whining mess beneath your touch that day and the memory alone used to be enough to finish you off in minutes.
Not anymore.
You sighed, tossing your phone down and wiping the slick from your thigh as the video ended for the third time with no success on your part.
This was getting ridiculous.
Your gaze drifted across the room to the dresser drawer you’d barely touched since Jake left. Inside sat the stupid gag gift your best friend had insisted you keep - a neon-pink vibrator, shaped like a missile.
You’d laughed when you unwrapped it, both amused and mortified. “You’ll thank me later,” she’d said at the time, winking.
But the silicone projectile had stayed firmly buried in that drawer, untouched since the day it arrived.
The fact that you were even considering it now made you want to pinch yourself. Its name sounded more like a sci-fi movie than something you’d ever want inside you, and yet…
You exhaled through your nose, staring the drawer down like it might back out of the room.
It didn’t.
The ache hadn’t gone away. If anything, it was more insistent than ever. You couldn’t deny your own curiosity any longer.
Your gaze slid to your phone on the mattress beside you, Jake’s face frozen mid-thrust in a paused video, bottoming out inside you. That wasn’t helping.
You quickly clicked your screen off and swung your legs off the bed, marching with irritated determination towards the dresser.
You dug through your underwear drawer until your fingers brushed cardboard. There it was, still in its ridiculous, little box.
Pleasure Protocol Activated.
You had to stifle a snort as you pulled it free. It’s highlighter-pink colour was intimidating, but, it’s size, not so much. It would get the job done.
Your friend was an idiot, at the best of times, but right now you were kind of grateful for her ridiculous sense of humor.
You climbed back onto the bed and sat there for a moment, staring at the toy. You ran your thumb over its smooth, velvety surface and your hand hovered over the power button, hesitant to give in.
You sighed again, for what felt like the hundredth time.
“This is so stupid,” you muttered.
And then you turned it on.
The vibrator whirred to life with a low, steady hum. It was stronger than you’d expected. You bit your lip.
Now or never.
You laid back against the pillows, propping yourself up, heart thudding in your chest as your free hand slowly drifted down, finally giving your body the relief it had been begging for.
The toy pulsed steadily between your legs, warmth blooming through your belly and up your spine. You gasped softly, lips parting as you sank deeper into the pillows.
Your hips rolled, grinding into the toy’s steady buzz. It wasn’t Jake, but God did it felt good.
You tilted your head back, eyes fluttering shut, conjuring the sound of his voice and that teasing rasp he always got when he mumbled into your neck, coaxing you apart with nothing but a low murmur.
Your free hand slid beneath your pyjama top, fingers curling over your breast and thumb circling your nipple.
You rolled your hips again, chasing your orgasm, and for a moment, you could almost feel him.
The weight of his body. The scent of his skin. The slow Southern drawl he only used when he was really gone and irreparably horny. You could hear it.
You moaned his name into the humid quiet of the room, “Jake…”
Just as you were reaching your peak, you heard a soft click.
The front door’s lock.
You froze.
You sat up fast, breathless and straining to listen for something more. The front door opened, creaky on its hinges and then there was the echo of boots across the hardwood.
And then Jake’s voice, unmistakable and far too close.
“Honey?”
You scrambled to shut the toy off, fingers slipping uselessly over the button in the wake of your would’ve-been orgasm. The buzz continued dully in your hand as the bedroom door fell open.
Jake stepped inside, sun-kissed, broad-shouldered, and handsome as ever in civilian clothes.
He looked dead tired with low-lidded eyes and stubble creeping along his chin, but the moment he saw you?
He snapped awake.
After five months, you were right in front of him; legs parted, vibrator in hand, covers shoved to your knees, and your vest askew with one strap having slipped completely off of your shoulder.
“…Hi,” you managed, voice small as you finally clicked the vibrator off.
Jake blinked, and then he laughed, “Well, hi to you too, sweetheart.”
He dropped his bag at his feet, and a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
His stupid grin didn’t falter as he stepped further into the room, watching you pull the duvet up over your hips to hide your bare skin, as if it mattered when he’d already seen it all.
He took a slow step forward, eyes dragging over you, “Miss me that much, huh?”
You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out. Your brain was still catching up, trying to process that your boyfriend was actually standing right in front of you.
“I thought you said seven months,” you breathed softly, tugging the sheets a little higher in a last-ditch effort to save your dignity.
Jake hummed, bending down to untie his boots, “Got cut short. They found someone else to rotate in early.“
He kicked his boots aside and crossed the room in a few easy strides, eyes never leaving yours, “Figured I’d surprise you.”
He crouched beside the bed, forearms braced on the edge, and that grin softened just enough to show how much he’d missed you and how much he needed you.
“You did,” you whispered, breath caught in your throat as you followed his movements.
“I never meant to interrupt, babydoll.” he leaned closer, eyes flickering between your heaving chest and your parted lips, “But I can’t say I’m sorry for it.”
“I wasn’t-“ you started, then stopped with a short laugh, “I only just started, I swear.”
Jake’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. His eyes flickered to your hand, still hidden behind your back, “That what I think it is?”
You swallowed, fingers twitching antsily around the toy.
Jake chuckled, staring you down, “Sweetheart, you don’t gotta hide it from me.“
“I missed you,” he sighed finally, reaching up to run his hand along your jaw. His thumb brushed gently across your lips, “Missed your voice. Missed this face.”
You leaned into his palm instinctively, letting your eyes flutter shut once more, in his company, “I missed you too. So, so much.”
Jake tilted his head, drawl thickening as it dropped into something hungrier, “Yeah?”
You nodded and his eyes snapped downwards, catching the subtle shift of your thighs pressing together, trying to relieve the friction.
“Then why don’t you show me what you were doin’,” he rasped, “before I got home and spoiled all your fun?”
Your throat went dry at the idea of Jake as your audience. You sat up straighter, still clutching the toy in your hand.
“Hm?” his voice dipped, sweet like honey, “You gonna show me or do you want me to guess what you were gettin’ up to, beautiful?”
You let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head, “But you’ve only been home for five minutes.”
“And I’ve been hard for four of ‘em.” he grinned wider, shamelessly, “Show me.”
You rolled your eyes, fighting off a smile, but you didn’t look away as you muttered, “You’re ridiculous.”
He leaned in closer still and his lips curled, as he watched you give in, shifting your legs open a little wider.
“That’s it,” he murmured, voice rough with awe, like you were showing him something holy, “Show me, baby.”
Your fingers trembled slightly as you turned the toy back on. Jake didn’t blink. He stayed crouched beside the bed, completely still, watching as your hand drifted down again and the toy met your clit.
A soft gasp slipped from your lips.
Jake groaned under his breath, “Christ, you are gorgeous.”
You rolled your hips into the pressure, just as you had before his arrival. Only this time, with him kneeling in front of you, everything felt different. The vibrations urged themselves deeper, it was as if your body had re-found its purpose.
Your free hand clutched at the sheets beside you, knuckles tight, and your eyes fluttered as you found your sweet spot.
“Look at you, needy baby,” he cooed, reaching up to brush your thick with the back of his calloused hand.
“Jake…” you gasped, half-embarrassed, half-turned-on from how carefully he tended to you.
His fingers traced slow, soothing circles into your skin, “Keep goin’, babydoll. Don’t stop now.”
You let out a quiet whimper, biting your lip as your rhythm picked up. The pleasure built up and up and, when your eyes met his, you felt your pussy clench around nothing.
Jake swallowed hard, “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?”
You nodded, breath caught in your throat, and his hand moved to cradle your calf, grounding you, as his palm ran over the smooth skin.
“Come on, my pretty girl,” he whispered, coaxingly, “Let go for me.”
That did it.
Your back arched, thighs trembling, your breath stuttering out of you in broken pieces as you came undone messily under his watch.
Jake didn’t move. Didn’t speak. He just watched, like a man witnessing a miracle.
You were still catching your breath, chest heaving, when he finally did move. He stood slowly, his knees cracking as he rose from the floor, never once letting his eyes leave you.
He reached down, took the toy gently from your trembling hand and set it aside without a word. His fingers brushed gently over yours.
“You okay?” he asked, tone softening as he leaned over you, pressing a kiss to your temple.
You nodded, dazed and Jake smiled against your skin, “Good.”
He climbed onto the bed, one knee sinking into the mattress beside your hip. His hands found the hem of your top and lifted it slowly, giving you every chance to stop him. When you didn’t, he pulled it off entirely and tossed it aside.
His mouth soon descended on your chest, warm lips pressing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of your breast.
You gasped as his tongue flicked over your nipple and he hummed in approval, pleased with every sound you offered him.
He suckled gently, licking each nipple in turn, never breaking eye contact. He’d always had a fixation on your tits, and tonight was no exception.
“You always get so sensitive after,” he mumbled against your skin, kissing lower, down your ribs and along your belly, “Twitchin’ away for me, it’s so cute.”
“Jake…” you whispered, reaching for him but he caught your hand, threading his fingers through yours, and holding it firmly away.
“No rushing, baby,” he murmured, eyes flicking up as he settled between your thighs, “Let me take care of you.”
You opened your mouth to protest- to tell him he didn’t have to, that you’d already just finished once - but then his tongue met you, and your entire body malfunctioned.
He groaned at the earthy taste of you, letting his hands slide beneath your thighs to hold you open for him.
You moaned, your breath breaking apart in your throat as your hips rolled into his mouth, seeking more.
“Easy,” Jake murmured, lips already slick, “Relax, babydoll. Been so long… wanna give you another ‘fore I do anything else.”
His tongue was unrelenting, moving with deliberate care and tracing lazy circles that sent shivers straight to your core. His breath was warm against your skin, his lips soft but insistent as he dipped in and out of you.
You reached up, threading your fingers into his hair, pulling him closer without a second thought. You ground against his face, searching desperately for more friction, and Jake responded immediately by brushing his nose against your clit.
“God, you taste like heaven,” he murmured against your folds, voice thick with need.
Jake’s hands slid up your sides, fingertips skimming over the curves of your waist and ribs, as if memorizing every inch of you.
His mouth moved back to your clit, flicking and sucking with increasing urgency that made your breath stutter.
“Come all over this handsome face, baby,” he groaned, voice low and husky, “I wanna drown in you.”
You mewled, thighs clenching around Jake’s head as he smirked against your cunt, eyes closed, working tirelessly to push you over the edge.
His chin was slick with your arousal by now and you couldn’t help but let out another soft moan.
“So fucking pretty,” he purred, licking a slow stripe up your skin, “let me drink you up.”
With a final, desperate shudder, you spilled over the edge, trembling beneath him and babbling a series of unintelligible cries.
Jake didn’t stop. He kept licking, gentle now, soothing, until you were breathing easy again.
He lifted his head and captured your lips in a slow, lingering kiss, but you knew you weren’t done yet.
You could already feel him growing hard against your thigh, the weight of his cock unmistakable.
He shifted his weight, hands sliding up your sides to cup your breasts once again, his large palms kneading gently.
“You ready for me, baby?”
You nodded, breath catching in your throat as you felt the head of him press against your entrance.
Slowly, he pushed inside, inch by inch, giving you time to adjust. That familiar, heavenly stretch of Jake’s cock was exactly what you’d been missing.
His eyes locked with yours, searching for any sign you wanted him to stop but you simply pushed him in deeper. He moaned softly, burying his face in your chest.
Jake’s breath hitched as he started to pick up the pace, hips rocking against yours, each thrust making your eyes roll back.
“You feel so good,” he growled against your skin, “Been dreamin’ about this every damn day since I left.”
Your hands slid down his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his shirt and you grabbed tightly, nails pressing into his skin.
The rhythm built between you, slow and steady, then harder, faster.
Jake’s grip tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him as you both lost yourself in the raw, aching need you’d held onto for months.
With a guttural groan, he buried himself deeper inside of you, whispering your name like a prayer.
Thank the Lord for getting him back to you in one, painfully hard, piece.
Jason Todd with a significant other who is kind and patient with him, but is also the most blunt person he’s ever met - and not in the same defensive, snarky way that he is. No, blunt as in brutually honest and without a filter about everything, including your relationship.
And yeah, considering communication and sharing his own feelings aren’t exactly his strong suits, he’s glad for it, cause if there’s something not sitting right with you, at least he’ll know immediately and can work on it. He’s used to always having to fix things, after all.
But then there’s the other things you say like it’s no big deal. He’s not sure what to do with any of that, cause he’s just not used to someone being on his side, someone quite literally shouting his self loathing and doubts into submission for him when necessary. What he does know is you’re about to put him in an early second grave, cause he swears his heart just about gives out with the stuff that comes out of your mouth at times.
“This is your home now, too, why wouldn’t you have your own space in the closet?”
“Hm? Oh yeah, I asked Alfred to give me the recipes for your favorite dishes; I won’t have you be the only one who cooks around here.”
“Wait you actually think I’d be turned off by your scars? You’re normally such a smart, observant man, how the fuck are you this oblivious??”
“Of course I worry when I don’t hear from you for days!! I’m not telling you to call me every hour, but put a freaking note on the fridge next time you leave the country god damnit!!”
“So I know you just got back from patrol and are probably tired, but before you take off all your gear, how are we feeling about you bending me over the kitchen counter in full costume, yes or no?”
“Jason Peter Todd, you’re not setting another foot down those stairs until I’ve had my goodbye kiss!”
“Don’t you fucking dare pull the whole ‘I’m putting you in danger, you’d be better off without me’ crap; you’d have bled out two times in the last month alone if not for me, so get your dramatic ass in bed before I put it there myself.”
If all of that weren’t enough, Jason will most definitely never forget the time you’d stared down Batman, not Bruce Wayne, but the literal fucking Batman, cowl and all, the figure that strikes fear into the hearts of hardened criminals and super villains alike, and had told him to maybe spend some more time down on the streets instead of above them before he lectures him about morals again, otherwise you’d shove his stupid cape so far up his ass, he’d be tasting Kevlar for weeks.
And maybe, just maybe, ever since then, Jason is inconspicuously sneaking glances at rings any time you two walk past a jewelry store.
jason who drives fast but never when you're passenger. not that he's a careless driver normally, he just cares much more about what could happen to you than what could happen to him. normally he's the type who accidentally runs a red light because he misjudged the distance and thought he could pass a yellow. maybe he's went over a couple curbs here and there when turning, and maybe his stops aren't the smoothest either. what could he say? it's not like he ever took a drivers ed class. however, when his everything is sitting right next to him, how could he not be careful? he's slowing down into his stops, eases into his turns, and doesn't speed before the yellow light could turn red. he takes passenger princess literally in the way he makes sure you're comfortable and cared for.
he was much more precautious about his motorcycle. jason hesitated for months to finally let you on. he originally wasn't going to let you on at all, but unfortunately for him, he's susceptible to your pleading and gave in eventually. he gave you a lecture about the proper clothes and making sure your helmet was on at all times beforehand, setting a clear rule that could not be broken. there's nothing he's more serious about than your safety. he keeps your arms wrapped his torso and gently taps your thigh when he feels you're not hugging him tight enough. he even got a custom helmet made to fit you perfectly, despite him rarely letting you join him. that's not to say he doesn't like it when you're with him. he likes feeling you behind him, likes the way your hair is tousled by the wind and helmet combo. but best of all he likes the way you smile afterward, a toothy grin with stars in your eyes and adrenaline still coursing through your veins. he loves making you happy most of all, and if a late night ride on his motorcycle does the trick, he can be persuaded.
Summary: Tyler Owens x fe!Reader -> After a rough chase, you and Tyler burn off some energy and he has you seeing stars.
Disclaimer: Does contain smut, mdni. Friends to lovers/FwB, fluff, mentions of tornado damage, a very relaxed yet naked Tyler in bed, feelings, pining. Not fully proof read.
It was meant to have been a one time thing. So why couldn't you stop thinking about it?
The chase had happened months ago. An EF-4 dropped out of nowhere. Just showed up on your doorstep without any warning. Sure, it was the season for it. But there were usually weather changes and warnings on the morning news.
You had been with Tyler, driving home from town having just confirmed the bakery order for Boone's birthday cake in two weeks time. The final details had been put into place; the same for the venue and the band.
You'd been talking about what to make for dinner later that night. With Dexter out sick, the rota skipped his turn making it yours. Chicken or beef burgers? Fish? Go European and do breakfast for dinner?
Twenty minutes later, Tyler's truck was drilling itself into the ground outside your house. The wind was picking up and your body got slammed into the porch stand. He dragged you down low as you both ran through the house and towards the back door. Both of you made it inside quick enough to feel the tornado pass overhead.
Maybe it was adrenaline, or the need to feel grounded. But as you came up from the shelter, you found your house mostly intact, save for the broken porch pieces and torn up ground around your property.
Your heart was beating faster than it had ever done. You'd chased plenty of tornadoes before. But you'd gone in with a plan. This time, there was no plan. Just pure need for survival.
The only thing that registered in Tyler's mind was the feeling of your hand in his. and somewhere in the thirty seconds that followed, the only feeling he could register was you. All over him. Soaking into his bones with the rest of the rain and soil.
Ignoring the broken windows and overturned dining table, Tyler's boots had scuffed against your wooden floor as he walked you backwards. You kept him close to you as he began to unbutton his wet shirt, both of you letting it fall onto the floor at the bottom of the stairs.
Walking up the stairs, his hands remained on you. You stopped halfway up when you felt his kisses stop and focus on your neck. You had let out a small whimper and he couldn't wait any longer.
Your front was pressed against the solid wall beside your stairs, his mouth trailing across your skin until he finally turned you around, leaning his full weight against you. You hoped his belt buckle made a lasting impression on your skin.
Finally making it to your bedroom, Tyler kicked the door shut with his foot and the rest became nothing more than an orgasmic haze of wonder.
You and Tyler didn't say anything afterwards, other than the agreement that it wouldn't be mentioned ever again. You were friends. And you worked together. And the team had left several voice messages letting you know they were on their way to check on you and Tyler.
Tyler let you shower first, but you couldn't deny you liked the image of seeing him relaxed against your headboard, knowingly naked and freshly fucked under the lazily draped duvet.
You found him a cream coloured Henley shirt and a pair of his jeans he'd left last time he and the others had stayed over. Twenty minutes later, you and Tyler were cleaning up what you could of your kitchen. Every once in a while, you looked behind you to see the way his wet hair fell down and his face remained concentrating on whatever he was thinking about.
But you didn't have long to look because the others pulled up outside of your home, running inside to hug you both and make sure you were okay.
"We didn't know it had hit you until someone said it had picked back up just west of the town. Everything told us it was gonna be heading North."
"It's okay. We're okay." Tyler assured them all.
From then on, you both moved forward. The team helped fix up your porch and kitchen. You called your insurance company and they were gonna be sending someone out to fit new windows. Outside, yourself and Kate started to rake at the broken ground.
"We can always just cover it with grass seed."
You nodded. "I know, but I think I might try and plant a few things. I've always wanted to start an actual garden. Might as well whilst Mother Nature is bringing the ground up for me."
But despite the distractions; the redecorating, repainting, gardening. Despite all of it, one thing remained on your mind constantly.
Tyler Owens.
And not in the way he did before.
Despite the adrenaline rush and the slight lapse in judgement from both of you consenting to spend that kind of time together, you could remember everything. Every single last detail. The way his hand felt in yours, the way they felt wrapped around your waist, the way they felt when he gripped your hips tight and pulled you closer to him, the way his lips felt and the way his tongue danced across your skin, the way he left his mark everywhere, the way his fingers felt curling inside of you, the way he felt inside of you, the way he moved, the way he kissed, the way he spoke.
Every last detail was like a constant movie in your head which was driving you crazy.
Yet, despite the live movie in your head and the feeling of your own hand drifting down your body, slipping under the tight waistband of your shorts, nothing could work away the ache that he left with you.
No matter how soft, slow, hard or fast you tried -- nothing could live up to the reality of Tyler Owens knowing your body better than you did.
But it was meant to be a one time thing. A single, consensual, lapse in judgement.
So why did it happen again?
A week after Boone's birthday party where you'd spent the entire night trying to avoid Tyler's eye contact, and after three separate chases that left you with an even stronger desire than the last to seek him out when the tension kept you awake at night. Tyler tapped on the side of your truck.
"What are you doing so far out here?"
"What are you still doing awake?" You asked as you watched him climb into the flatbed.
You had driven your truck out into the darkness of the field, far away from the overhead lights of the motel so you could see the stars. If you weren't going to sleep, you might as well look at something other than a motel ceiling.
"I asked first," Tyler told you.
"Trying to see the stars. Couldn't sleep."
"Me neither," Tyler sat beside you. "Just wanted to make sure you were okay."
You nodded and smiled. "I'm okay."
It happened somewhere between Tyler talking about one of the constellations and moving your hand a few inches over when you pointed at the wrong one, that you turned and looked at him.
Similar to the first time, it happened somewhere within the next quiet thirty seconds that was filled with rapid heartbeats and his hand in yours. Only, Tyler was the first to surge forward, hurriedly pushing the hair from the sides of your face and kissing you like your life depended on it.
Laying you down on the flatbed, you finally relaxed for the first time in weeks, under his touch. His kiss roamed further and further south until he'd pulled your bed shorts from your body, only to find you completely bare underneath.
The groan that racked his body as he pulled you closer to him by your thighs left you with an aching need all over you. Your back arched under his wet kiss, but he held you down before pushing his hand further up your body.
You were definitely seeing stars.
"T...Tyler...I need...I need..." You tried to speak through the gasps that left you.
Through fluttered lashes, you saw him look up. "I know," he kissed at your clit before kissing the bare skin of your lower belly. "I know, Sweetheart."
Once his kiss finally reached your lips, it was scorching. His fingers worked their way back down your body as your own fiddled with his belt buckle and lowered his jeans and underwear just enough for you to reach him.
Tyler broke your kiss for a moment, watching as he guided himself in you, only to quickly look back at your face as you lay under him. Your mouth opened just that little bit wider as he slid further inside of you, your head rolling back as your eyes closed in order to remember the full feeling of him.
"Sweetheart..."
You managed to open your eyes long enough to look into his. You held onto his face and nodded.
"You can move."
He started slow at first, lowering himself so his nose brushed yours, until his forehead rested against your own. In, and out. Slow. Tantalisingly slow.
"Tyler," you gasped as he pushed back into you.
His kiss trailed lazily across your jaw until his tongue felt your quickening pulse and his ears were filled with the slight hitches and breathy moans that were escaping your lips.
"I've been dreaming about this..." Tyler whispered into your neck. "Ever since..."
You nodded, quickly. "So have I..."
Finally looking at you again, he kissed you, before he pushed deeper into you, his pace picking up ever so slightly.
By the time you'd both finished, you held Tyler inside of you just a little longer. And he waited, memorising the feeling of you clenching around him, chanting his name along with a small string of swear words as he let you ride you high out on him.
There was no guarantee that it was ever going to happen again, so he savoured the moment. But, by God, he was praying it would.
The second we pulled into the motel parking lot, I saw his signature entourage. They were sitting in the parking lot, drinking and exchanging stories. I forced myself not to look at him as I walked into the front office to check in my team and get our keys.
After checking us in, I walked out of the lobby. The second I walked out, I looked up and made direct eye contact with Tyler Owens. Tyler and I are constantly running into each other. Tyler chases tornadoes for his little YouTube channel, while I'm a meteorologist for our town's weather channel.
Two years ago, he was chasing and I was reporting when both of our vans got caught in the storm. We ended up having to take shelter in a high school. Tyler and I wandered off and ended up hooking up in an empty classroom.
After that, we ended up constantly running into each other. Whenever we did, we always found time to hook up. Sometimes we hooked up in the back of one of our vans, but most of the time we stayed at the same motels.
"If it isn't Weather Girl Y/N," he smirked.
"If it isn't Tornado Chaser Tyler," I scoffed as I walked past their trucks.
"Got any weather advice for us?" His friend, Boone, asked.
"Yeah," I said simply. "Stay out of my way."
"Or what?" Tyler challenged.
"Or I'll take you down with me."
I ignored the look in Tyler's eyes as he licked his lips. I sent him a wink before heading upstairs to my room. I unlocked my door, making sure to leave it slightly open as I slowly got settled. I could hear things start to die down outside. Once people started going to bed, I turned off the janky TV and "got ready for bed".
I walked out of the bathroom in nothing but an oversized flannel that was hanging off one shoulder. When I walked out, Tyler was leaning against the now fully open motel room door.
"There you are," he said, his voice low. His eyes slowly scanned my body. "Fuck," he moaned as he kicked off the doorframe and slammed the door shut. I smirked as he kicked off his shoes and froze.
"Is that. . . Is that one of my flannels?"
"It is," I smirked, "You left it the last time we. . . ran into each other."
"If I remember correctly," he said, choking on a moan, "we ran into each other several times."
Tyler's eyes took in every inch of me. As he examined my body, I took note of his jeans tightening.
"I've missed you."
I just smirked as I walked over to the bed and lay down. I heard Tyler let out a deep growl. I closed my eyes as I heard him take off his pants. Soon, I felt someone crawling over me. I kept my eyes shut as his hands slid up my thighs, scrunching my flannel.
"Open your eyes for me, baby girl," he whispered as he dragged his body against mine. I did as I was told and saw the heat in his eyes.
"Hey there, Chaser."
"The only thing I want to chase tonight is you, moaning my name over and over again."
I gasped when he leaned down and roughly pressed his lips to mine. I threw my arms around his neck and brought him closer as I kissed him back. As our lips moved messily in sync and our hips rocked, I ran my fingers through his hair. When me doing this drove him a little too crazy, he roughly broke the kiss. Tyler moved his lips from mine to my neck.
"I hate that you make me so fucking weak," I moaned as he bit my neck.
"I love that I make you so fucking weak," he chuckled darkly. I gasped when he grabbed my flannel and tore it open.
"Fuck," he moaned as his eyes took in my bare body underneath him.
"Like what you see?" I asked, slowly undoing his flannel. He sat back, straddling me as he tore his flannel the rest of the way open and threw it across the room.
"Always."
We let out matching moans as Tyler roughly brought his lips back to mine. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he started grinding his body against mine.
I gasped, arching my back when Tyler ripped my underwear off me. I moaned as his hands slid up my bare body - all without breaking the kiss. As his tongue explored my mouth, I undid his jeans.
He broke the kiss and I watched as he stripped off his pants and boxers. He was about to get off me, but I stopped him. I sat up and made a show of reaching over to the bedside table a grabbing a condom.
"I was prepared."
"Fuck," he moaned as he switched our positions in one fluid movement. I was now straddling his bare hips. I stayed hovering over him as he slipped the condom on.
I smirked to myself when I realized the only pieces of clothing I was wearing were my bra and Tyler's flannel. There was something about this outfit that always drove Tyler crazy. He especially loved it when I was wearing his hat, but he didn't bring it with him this time.
"Are you ready yet?" I pouted. "I'm getting antsy."
"Sorry, darling," he groaned as he fixed himself. "Safety first."
Once he was ready, he leaned back against the headrest. I slowly walked on my knees until I was in the perfect position. Tyler started eagerly chewing on his bottom lip as I put my hands on his shoulders. He was about to say something, but I brought my hips down to his, making him moan instead.
He grabbed my hips very tightly as I ground my hips against his. As I continued my movements, Tyler swore under his breath repeatedly. I knew we had fallen into a rhythm when he pushed on my back, roughly bringing my chest to his face.
Tyler started knawing on my skin, going around my bra as I rocked my hips against his. When he couldn't handle not being in control, he roughly rolled us over so he was on top of me.
I didn't have time to catch my breath before he wrapped my leg around his bare waist and brought his hips to mine. I arched my back and moaned as he roughly pushed in and out of me. As our hips danced, we moaned loud enough for only the other to hear.
I lost track of time as we focused on pushing each other, inch by inch, over the edge. When we finally fell, our bodies relaxed into each other. Tyler stayed on top and inside me for a brief second before slowly pulling out.
He rolled to the side and, for a moment, I thought he was going to leave. Instead, he grabbed the blanket that had been pushed aside during our dance and draped it over us. I forced myself not to smile as he wrapped his arms around me.
I fell asleep, reminding myself that he'd be gone in the morning. Sooner, if there is a tornado nearby.
* * * * *
I woke up to someone kissing my shoulder. I let out a small moan as I fully woke up. I looked over my shoulder to see Tyler smirking at me.
"Good morning, gorgeous," he whispered, his voice dark.
"Good morning to you, too," I smirked. I rolled onto my back, Tyler now hovering over me. He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. As I kissed him back, I grabbed his face and pulled him closer. I felt him smirk as he moved so he was on top of me.
I threw my arms around him as our bodies danced against each other. A moan left my lips as he positioned himself and slipped back into me. I bit his bottom lip as he began thrusting into me. This morning, it didn't take us long to satisfy each other. We never took long in the morning.
We broke the kiss, breathing heavily as Tyler slowly pulled out of me. I gasped when he reattached his lips to my neck. His body was still firmly pressed to mine as he left small bruises up and down my neck.
"Baby," I moaned as his lips made their way down to my collarbone, awfully close to my chest. "I don't think I can go another round."
He moved his lips from my chest to my lips. They instantly moved in sync, our tongues battling for dominance. He broke the kiss with a moan. "I'll go get us some coffee," he whispered. "That way, we can go several more rounds."
I sat up and leaned against the headboard as Tyler got out of bed. I followed him with my eyes as he searched for his clothes and put them back on. Before leaving, Tyler walked back over to me and kissed me.
"I'll be back," he whispered as he kissed me again.
As soon as the door closed behind him, I sank into the bed. I took a shaky breath before finally getting out of bed. I slowly threw on some clothes. I was pulling my hair into a tight ponytail when I heard the door unlock.
I looked over my shoulder, my heart sinking when I saw Tyler sneaking into my room. "Anyone catch you?" I had to ask. I turned around and crossed my arms over my chest.
He looked up, the expression in his eyes changing. "No," he said, his voice soft as he walked toward me. "It's still kind of early. My team is never up before 10 am."
"And mine doesn't leave until 9," I nodded. I looked away from him and took my coffee from him.
"Is everything okay?" He asked, trying to get me to turn toward him, but I didn't.
"Have you ever thought about. . . us?" I asked slowly.
"I think about us all the time," he smirked, stepping closely behind me. "Especially when I'm lonely and can't sleep."
"That's not what I meant, Tyler," I said, my voice soft.
"What did you mean?" He asked.
I finally turned around, face-to-face with Tyler as I stuttered, "I meant about us being. . . an us."
"You mean like, not just sleeping together?"
"I'm tired of sneaking around," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I'm tired of sneakily hooking up. I'm tired of sneaking in and out of each other's motel rooms. I'm tired of secretly texting each other. I'm tired of only being together in secret. I want. . ."
I stopped talking and looked away from him. Tyler stepped even closer to me and gently used his finger to turn me toward him.
"Tell me what you want," he whispered, "and maybe I can give it to you."
"I want us to be more than just sleeping together," I confessed. "I want us to be an us. I want. . . I want you, Tyler. I know we rarely see each other. . ."
He smirked as he pulled me closer. "We run into each other all the time, baby. If we started dating for real, we would see each other more."
"What about our jobs?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. "Your fans think we hate each other."
"We could still act like we hate each other on camera," he shrugged. He paused before adding, "Or we don't have to act like it anymore."
"Wait, so you. . ."
"I want you, Y/N," he whispered. "I want this to be more than just secretly hooking up. I mean, I love hooking up with you, but I want more. I want to see you every day, text you to reassure you that I'm okay after a storm, call you when you're on location and I need to hear your voice. I want to buy you dinner. I want to scare away your crazy boy fans as you scare away my crazy girl fans. I want to be your biggest fan. I want you, Y/N."
I dropped my coffee and threw my arms around him, instantly connecting my lips to his. He dropped his coffee as he wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling me closer.
The kiss got rough as he led us across the motel room. We collapsed onto the bed with matching moans. Before we could get too into the kiss, someone cleared their throat.
We looked toward the door to see Boone smirking at us in the doorway. Tyler gently got off me and helped me to my feet. We fixed ourselves before turning toward Boone.
"What?" Tyler asked with no emotion.
"Sorry to interrupt," he chuckled, "but there's a storm nearby. Let's get to chasing."
As Boone walked away, Tyler turned back toward me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his chest.
"What do you think, gorgeous?" He asked. "I'll chase it and you report the weather pattern?"
"Sure," I said, my voice soft. I started to walk away, but he grabbed my wrist.
"I know it was probably scary to tell me what you wanted," he whispered. "Especially since it wasn't what you wanted in bed. You've never had a hard time telling me that. But emotion? That's different. Before we go chasing, I need you to know that I want the same thing. I want you and me. No more hiding. No more lying. No more secrets."
I stood on my toes and delicately pressed my lips to his. This was one of the softest kisses we've ever shared. When we broke it, he leaned his forehead against mine.
Every time I went to write this I was on the verge of sleeping so if it reads weird, that's why.
Imagining Jason, after fighting his way through hell and back during a mission. He climbs your fire escape and opens your window.
It's like 4 in the morning, when you wake up to see Jason all sweaty and dirty from punching criminals all night. Just by looking at Jason, his breath heavy, his fingers twitching like he's Still in a fight, you can totally say the adrenaline hasn't worn off. He closes the window Behind him as you sit up on the bed, rubbing your tired eyes. “Jay, baby, I keep telling you to use the front door-” you couldn't finish your sentence as Jason leans in for a kiss.
He starts to strip his gear from his body, his heavy belt hitting the floor with a loud Thud. “Shh, baby. Be quiet for me please. Every fiber of my body is screaming to fuck you.” He murmurs into your ear as he kisses your neck.
You whimper as he kisses you again. His rough hands running underneath your shirt, feeling the soft flesh of your sides.
“Mm, you're all sweaty Jay,” you comment, pulling his shirt off. “You should really take a shower before we do it.”
He shakes his head as he dips down under your shirt and pulls your breasts out. His hot tongue licking your left nipple before kissing it. You shiver. His voice is gruff and needy, “I don't have enough time. It has to be now.” His big body crowds your space as he lays you down on your bed. His eyes trail down to your night-shorts. You bite your bottom lip as you watch his hands move down your sides. Gripping either side of your shorts, before pulling them off.
Jason lets out a low groan (more like a whine) as he pulls his cock out. The vein running along the side of his shaft throbbing like crazy. He's hungry, and you are a 5-star meal. “Fuck, Jay. you can't shove it in like that!” you protest as Jason tries to guide himself into your cunt.
“Don't worry, it'll work.” He says calmly.
“I'm not wet- Oh-!” His tip slides right inside of you, cutting you off mid-sentence. “Shit!” You curse as Jason pushes his cock further inside of you.
“Fuck, yes.” Jason groans as he hilts at your pussy. “Fuck-” You feel his body stiffen as Jason curses. That's a sign Jason might cum prematurely. You're half tempted to move by yourself just to make him cum fast. But with the way he's holding onto your hips like it's the only thing keeping him sane, yeah, it's hard to move.
After a long moment, Jason starts to move slowly at first but before the 5th thrust, he is plowing you. You hold onto his arms as he uses your hips as leverage. Your eyes roll back as your nails dig into his forearms. “Shit-” you curse as your back arches.
Jason's hands move down to your waist to hold you up to fuck you. “Jason- fuck, slow down!” You yelp as Jason continues to hit your g-spot. His hands move to wrap around you; he can't get enough of you. He grinds against you, hilting himself as far as he can go inside of you.
“Fuck.” He mutters into the crook of your neck, “I'm losing it. And I'm so, fucking, hard.” He punctuates his words with hard thrusts, each one making you closer to seeing stars.
Your hand rests on Jason's scarred back, you rub his back lovingly. He needs to cum so badly, and you're the only one to help him out. You hear him groan softly into your shoulder, “Shh, Shh. Jay, baby. Look at me.” you cup his face, forcing him to look into your pliant eyes. “It's ok, just let it go for me, ok?” You say softly, before pressing a kiss to his cheek.
Jason's Adam's apple bobs as he swallows dryly. He murmurs something so light, even with how close you two are, you couldn't hear it. Then, he starts to move again, slowly. His eyes remain on you as he openly pants with each thrust into your velvet pussy. You softly whimper as Jason brushes against your g-spot.
“Is that it baby?” He asks, his hand finding yours to kiss them. All you can do for a response is nod your head ‘yes’.
Jason starts to move faster, his free hand moving down to rub your clit. His eyes bore into your close eyes. Your eyes flutter open to see a sweaty, needy Jason fucking you. His face is full of lust, he's about to cum. The thought of Jason cumming puts you close to the edge with him. You both moan as Jason's shaft throbs within you. You couldn't tell who came first, you or Jason. But you both still for a moment, your eyes rolling back with pleasure as Jason pulls you closer. Your spasming insides are flooded by Jason's hot cum, his body shuddering with every pump of his balls.
After a moment, you regain your senses. Unfortunately, Jason hadn't regained his strength as fast as you did. He's currently on top of you, almost crushing you. You pat his back.
“Jason! Jason, you're crushing me!” you call out, he pulls out of you, before rolling onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You both sigh heavily. You listen to Jason's heart and it's still pounding fast and hard… but not as much as it did before. Resting your head on his chest, you trace shapes onto his arm with your finger. “Damn, jay. You keep fucking me like this I might become a nympho,” you say softly, waiting for a reply…
You look up to see Jason almost asleep, he's definitely exhausted. You can't help but look fondly at him. “Good night, Jay,” you shift forward to kiss him on the lips.
“Mhm, I love you, baby.” And with that, he's out like a light. You would fall asleep too but…you currently have Jason's cum still deep inside of you.
“You're so lucky that you're so hot.” You say glaring at him with a smirk.
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