branchesofmagic, a girl full of sweet dreams and sugary fantasies,
amelie, eighteen. ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆
ᝰ.ᐟ leo , jason todd’s babydoll ... non-stereotypical slytherin … bruce wayne’s sugar baby … history major … infp … always napping … leon kennedy’s controversially younger gf ༉‧₊˚.
⋆.˚˖࿔ ࣪ "per aspera ad astra", through hardships to the stars
on my mind 𖡎‧͙⁺
leon s. kennedy, cinnamon rolls, ariana grande, lady bird, arctic monkeys, bunnies, lana del rey, & beautifully rugged older men
kisses .ᐟ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁
(I do NOT support jkr whatsoever!! racists, homophobes, or any sort of hateful person dni, i will block you)
SUMMARY: You should've never divorced Leon, and you both know it. Now, 3 years later, you've been having sort of like an affair for 6 months. No one knows about you two, but the birthday party Chris convinces him to host may be the final step you two need to become an us again
‼️ NSFW. Semi-public sex, fingering, oral sex (female receiving), slight dry humping, unprotected sex, creampie, breeing kink, prasing. Fluffy aftercare and a bit angsty
✹ PAIRINGS: RE9 Leon Kennedy x Ex Wife Redfield Reader
✹ Find me on AO3 ✹ Find me on Wattpad
✹ My RESIDENT EVIL MASTERLIST
💬 Officially July 31st in my timezone which means (headcanon) Leon's birthday and my birthday too! So officially my first fic posted being 24 :) Long time no see over here, but I really hope you like this one!
No matter how hard you’re trying to make sure no one notices that, once again, there’s something going on between you two… you and Leon are really messing everything up.
It’s his 49th birthday, and even you know your ex-husband had planned not to celebrate it, your brother insisted that he had to do something different because not every day you’re close to 50.
So, not even bothering to argue with him, here you are, in a hotel ballroom that Chris decided to rent, with way more guests than you know Leon’d like to have.
You bite your lower lip when you see him talking to Sherry while keeping one eye on you. You know this isn’t the best place, or the best day, for people to find out that you two are giving your relationship a second chance… or that what it looks like. You’re grateful that your daughter’s traveling with her college friends, because otherwise…
Your attention shifts away from your ex-husband when you hear a man’s voice speaking beside you. You don’t know his name, but you know he’s one of Leon’s coworkers at the DSO. You’d run into him a couple of times at different events the organization hosted for its employees, and even you didn’t remember his name, you did indeed remember his attempts to hit on you even though you were still married.
Now, nearly three years after your divorce, he seems to still have that intention, just like you do.
You go along with everything he says, even though you’re barely paying attention. Your eyes can’t help but stare at Leon, who now seems distracted by his cell phone. You know he’s faking a call when you see him hold it to his ear, but his lips don’t move.
You know exactly what you have to do when you see him disappear.
Seven minutes. That’s how long you’d agreed to spend on one of your trysts, in the restrooms, without raising any suspicion.
“Sorry, I think I have to go to the bathroom… A little emergency,” you say to the man, who’s still standing next to you, and still talking to you.
“Would you like to go to my room when you get back?” he blurts out quickly. “I booked a room for tonight before heading home. You know…”
“I’ve booked one for tonight, too, but thanks for the offer,” you say. You realize he’s about to interrupt you, so you decide to speak again without even thinking about the consequences of your words: “I have company tonight, so… I’m sorry.”
You don’t give him time to continue, nor do you turn around to see his reaction. You simply head quickly toward the restrooms farthest from the room, keeping your head down to avoid being caught… doing whatever you’re doing.
Doing exactly what you’ve been doing with your ex-husband for the past six months.
You can’t stop thinking about your siblings and what they’d think of this. You know Claire wouldn’t mind if you got back together with Leon. Actuallyt, just like the two of you, she didn’t even know why you’d signed the divorce papers. But Chris…
Typical overprotective older brother behaviour with his little sisters.
You step into the bathroom cautiously, looking around to make sure there’s no one else there but you, and hopefully Leon.
“Leon?” you whisper, waiting for a reply. “Oh God, tell me you’re here.” Damn it, it’s not like we’re twenty again that we have to be hiding like this—
You don’t hear the click of the door opening. All you notice’s a hand resting on your waist, pulling you toward the only bathroom stall. Then, lips press against your neck that begin to suck with no care.
“Damn…” your ex-husband murmurs against your temple, leaving a trail of kisses from your jawline to the edge of your cleavage. Unfortunately for you, you can’t stop him. You can only beg for more with every moan that escapes your lips. “I haven’t had a chance to tell you tonight, but you look gorgeous.”
You’re used to his compliments even divorced, but you can’t help feeling a kind of flutter in your stomach with a sense of nostalgia and regret in your chest.
“Do you mind if I take it off?” Leon asks, pulling you out of your thoughts as he steals a kiss from you. “I know I shouldn’t because we have to do this quick, but—”
“What if we save that for later?” you suggest, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him close to you again. This time you take your time bitting his neck, his ear… “That’s why we booked a room tonight, isn’t it?”
He smiles shyly and then looks at you, asking for your permission to continue, just as he always did whenever you had sex. You don’t hesitate to nod, and immediately tilt your head back, feeling Leon’s lips explore your neck once again as his hands slide up under your dress and glide down your thighs until they reach your underwear.
You try to stifle a moan when you feel two of his fingers touching your pussy above the fabric of your underwear.
“Didn’t expect you to be this wet right from the start…” he murmurs.
“What do you want me to say? You look absolutely gorgeous in that suit. Also… it’s your birthday, and thinking that we might get caught… I guess the whole idea of having a secret affair with my ex-husband turns me on,” you joke, even deep down you both know you’re telling the truth.
Leon doesn’t answer. Instead, he breaks contact with your pussy, making you moan in response, begging for him to touch you again.
“Leon…”
“Do you want me to keep going?” you ask. “Maybe I got a little carried away, but if you don’t want to do this here—”
“Please, Leon…” you interrupt him, praying he won’t think you’re too desperate.
He presses his lips against yours. There was nothing else to say, and you both knew it. You gently bite his lower lip as you deepen the kiss while he slides his index finger inside you, fucking you as his thumb takes care of your clit.
With a quick movement, you lift one of your legs and rest it on his waist. He slips in another finger without warning you, keeping going with his movements as you feel your walls tightening more.
Your breathing is ragged. You can’t stop moaning, begging him to keep going, not to stop, to make you come… You also know he wants something else: you glance down at his pants, where there’s a very noticeable bulge.
You’re the one who pulls away even when you were on the verge of your orgasm. But it was his birthday. Without even thinking, you reach for his belt to quickly undo it, but his hands gently grab your wrists, pulling them away from the waistband of his pants.
“Leon…” you complain. “It’s your day. Don’t do this.”
“It’s just that…” he looks down, touching his erection to try calming himself down. “I don’t want us to have sex here. Look, I know it’s my birthday, that I have a party out there that I should be enjoying. I also know we’re divorced and that maybe we’re taking a bit of a risk with this, but…”
He forces himself to shut up, but you can tell from his eyes that he wants to say more.
“Do you regret this?” you ask him out of the blue, your voice trembling at the possible answer he might give you. “Do you want to call it quits?”
“Yeah.”
You feel a part of you break inside, and you let out a bittersweet laugh.
You knew it. You knew that starting over with Leon was a bad idea, specially considering that—
Once again, his hands grip your waist and pull you toward him.
His lips crash against yours in a kiss that’s both aggressive and, at the same time, eager. You shouldn’t be doing this after his confession, but you can’t stop your fingers from running through his hair and tugging at it, desiring so much more from him even you know that, perhaps, he couldn’t give it to you.
“I want us to finish all this because I want us to start all over again,” he says the moment you pull apart, his voice agitated. “I want a second chance where we don’t have to hide from anyone else. Damn it, Miss Redfield, if you only knew everything I want to do with you all over again…”
“You sure?” you rest your forehead against his. He nods, stealing a kiss from you. “Leon, you really don’t have to say anything just to make me feel good—”
“Isn’t it my birthday? Chris told me that at 12,” he glances at his watch, “in about ten minutes, I have to go blow out the candles, but you know what the only thing I want is? You.”
You’ve spent enough years sharing your life with Leon first, as friends, then, as a couple, and finally as a married couple with a daughter in her twenties to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention.
You know he’d hated the whole idea of Chris’s huge birthday party, but at the same time, he’d given himself the chance to try something new without disappointing his ex-brother-in-law.
Or brother-in-law.
“Do you want me to…?” you begin calmly, trying not to cross his boundaries or make him think you want anything more than sex with him. You clear your throat and think about rephrasing it better. “Would you like us to slip away, pretend something’s going on… and head to the bedroom?”
“I’ll go first, and then you’ll go.”
Before leaving, Leon gives you a quick kiss on the lips and whispers that he loves you.
I love you.
You lean against the wall for a few seconds, trying to relax while you process everything that’s happened. More than Leon fingering you… the fact that he asked you for a second chance.
He confessed he loves you…
You take your phone out of your purse and check the hour, making sure enough time has passed. Before leaving, you look at yourself in the mirror in the stall: your hair’s a mess, your lips are slightly swollen, and your cheeks are flushed. You’re grateful that your dress still looks the same as when you walked in, except for a few wrinkles.
As you’re heading back to the ballroom to go to the area leading to the bedrooms, again with your head down and walking quickly, you bump into someone who immediately grabs your shoulders firmly, but not too roughly.
You curse under your breath when you realize who it is just from their laugh.
Chris.
“You okay?” he asks, worried. He takes your chin and tilts your face from side to side, looking at the blush on your cheeks. Then he places the back of his hand on your forehead as if to check for a fever. “You’re…” he looks you up and down, “kinda looking weird.”
“I’ve got a headache,” you say quickly, and he seems to get it. When you take a step forward to leave, he grabs your forearm. “Seriously, I just want to go to my room and—”
“Leon’s room, you mean.”
You feel your face go pale. You avoid looking at your older brother as you consider denying it, making up an excuse credible enough to avoid the subject, especially today.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” is all you say.
“Yeah, right…” he chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“Do you think I’m stupid enough to get back into some kind of relationship with my ex-husband? What am I, a teen?”
“I think you were pretty foolish to divorce him for reasons that neither you nor anyone else understood, but what could we say?” he replies sincerely. “So, on that note… I’m glad to see you two leaving the same place seven minutes apart,” he takes your chin in his hand again and smiles widely when he sees the hickies on your neck. “Seriously… it’s obvious you’re having a good time together and that you’re both comfortable with this. Hope so.”
“I don’t want to talk about this right now, Chris,” you say quickly. “Leon’s… he’s waiting for me…” you whisper, embarrassed, once again avoiding his gaze.
“Oh, I know. Did you really think I was going to make him blow out the candles in front of everyone when he’s always done it just with you and your daughter? Even during the years of your divorce.”
That catches you off guard.
“So…”
“I know you and Leon have been doing this for a while,” he confesses. “Just like Claire, Sherry, and your daughter know… Did you know the party was her idea? So that, in some way, I don’t know how she explained it to me, and I can’t explain it to you either, you could… get back together? Or whatever it is you’re doing…”
“She knew?” you ask, referring to your daughter.
“Not exactly… but she suspected it since… never mind,” he says, giving up and sighing. “She told me a couple of months ago that she was tired of seeing you two pretend all the time when it was clear you don’t act like a divorced couple. I mean, don’t get me wrong, you don’t have to hate each other or anything, but…”
You nod, knowing exactly what he means.
“I didn’t want her to think that…”
“Listen,” your brother interrupts you.
Without hesitation, you look at him, even though you feel quite embarrassed, just like when you were a teenager.
“I don’t know what you two said or did in there, and I don’t care, but… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen Leon as happy as he looks today,” you feel a lump forming in your throat. “And… it’s been even longer since I’ve seen you this happy as well.”
“Chris…”
“Stop overthinking it. Stop coming up with stupid excuses for your older brother and go spend the night with your husband.”
“Ex-husband,” you correct him.
“We’ll see if tonight leads to another wedding,” you can’t help but laugh. “Come on, go on before he starts driving himself crazy wondering if you stood him up or not.”
You give him a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek, and immediately afterward you start running all over the venue, not giving a fuck if you’re suspicious or not.
You weave your way through the guests, apologizing when you bump into someone, and bite the inside of your cheek as you feel your heels hurting more. You keep running without forcing yourself to stop, even when you’re on the verge of falling several times.
You climb the stairs leading to the rooms with your heart pounding. Your heartbeat rises when you stop in front of room 333 and realise it’s the suite where you spent your wedding night.
You take a deep breath, trying not to get swept away by the mixed of emotions you’re feeling, and knock gently on the door.
It opens in a matter of seconds.
Leon’s shirt’s slightly unbuttoned, his hair a bit tousled, and he has an expression of nervousness mixed with happiness that, maybe, only you can recognize after all these years.
When his eyes meet yours, you notice how he gradually relaxes; how the straight line of his lips curves until they part just enough to reveal his lips.
“I ran into Chris,” you say out of the blue. “He knows. He knows we’re—”
Your ex-husband closes the distance between you by wrapping his arms around your waist and drawing your lips to his in a brief kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you pull apart.
“Are you okay?” he asks, stroking your cheek with his hand.
“Me? Better than ever,” you chuckle, giving him a peck on the lips.
“I’ve missed you…” now, it’s his turn to steal a kiss from you. “I’ve missed you so, so much,” and another one, “and I don’t want this to happen to us again…”
Leon picks you up in his arms and shuts the door with his foot, slamming it shut. He carries you straight to the bed without a second thought, gently laying you down and positioning himself on top of you, starting all over again to kiss every single part of you.
“Leon, it’s your birthday…” you insist, once again, between soft moans. You sit up a little and try to reach your hands toward his pants. “I’ve already told you: I want to make you feel good…”
“Come on, let me be the one to start.”
Your stomach flutters as he grabs your neck and brings your lips together for the hundredth time that day. Clumsily, he sits up: now Leon’s on the bottom and you’re on top of him, while you awkwardly slip off your heels and he slides the straps of your dress down until your tits are exposed. He takes his time with them, massaging them and brushing against your nipples, making you escape a few moans from your lips.
You reach a hand to the zipper of his pants without stopping your grinding against him, struggling to pull his pants down. Leon sits up slightly until he finally manages to take them off; then, his shirt, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, revealing his huge erection.
You don’t hesitate to run your hands over the fabric, watching it grow even larger at your touch.
“I need you to take that dress off…” your ex-husband says in a broken voice.
“Go ahead. What did you say your birthday wish was?”
Gently, he grabs your ass and lifts you up a little. You take the opportunity to lift your dress up a bit, sitting back down on him and increasing the speed of the friction against his cock, which’s now fully erect.
Leon, after a few clumsy tries, finally takes the bottom of your dress and pulls it up. You raise your arms without even thinking, feeling the slight brush of your hands, noticing how your skin’s getting more tingly and how you’re getting wetter.
“You know what else I’d like?” he says, returning to nibble at your neck. Quickly and with the utmost care, he grabs you by the waist, lifting you up with him and laying you down on the bed with your legs hanging off the edge. His kisses now focus on your stomach. “A baby. I know we already have that amazing young woman at home, and that we’re a bit old, but… Wouldn’t that be nice?”
“You’re crazy,” you say, rolling your eyes in pleasure as you feel his tongue flat against your pussy. “Leon, for God’s sake…”
“Don’t you want a baby?” he insists, sliding two of his fingers inside you in one swift motion.
“I think we’ve got enough on our hands with our daughter…” you tug at his hair, urging him to keep eating you out. “We’ve got enough to worry about figuring out what we’re going to tell her now that—”
“She’ll take it well,” he tells you, looking at you as he keeps thrusting his fingers inside you. “But you’re right. Now… I just want to spend a great time with my wife and think of nothing else.”
He pulls on your thighs and increases the friction even more with his tongue, his fingers moving even faster. You notice your vision becoming a bit blurry as he begins to gently suck on your clit with his mouth and a bit with his teeth.
You feel the orgasm building in your stomach, and you know that Leon, once again, knows it.
He knows you as well as you know him.
“Do you want…?”
He breaks the contact between his mouth and your pussy, but doesn’t stop fingering you, even though he slows down as he sits up.
“I need you to fuck me right now, love.”
You run your hands around Leon’s neck and pull him toward you as he clumsily grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance, entering you without previous warning and making you let out a moan of surprise.
“Leon…” you cling tightly to his neck as he thrusts into you mercilessly. “Leon, faster, please…”
You wrap your legs around his waist and feel him even more, specially when he listens to you and picks up the pace of his movements. You feel completely lost when one of his fingers finds its way to your clit to stimulate you more.
You don’t know how long you’ve been like this. You let yourself go, completely losing track of time, feeling incredibly comfortable for the first time in a long time.
“I’m going to come,” Leon whispers in your ear, which turns you on even more. “Where do you want me to—?”
“Inside,” you say without hesitation.
And that’s exactly what he does.
After fucking you for a while longer, Leon finally cums inside you, keeping going until a few minutes later, and with the help of his fingers stimulating your clit, you come too.
You both end up sprawled on the bed, a total mess, but it’s the least you care about.
For a few minutes, neither of you says a word. You’re resting on Leon’s chest, while he covers both of you with the bedsheets, wrapping his arm around your neck and still planting kisses all over your face.
“Are you okay?”
“You always ask me the same thing,” you reply, looking up at him.
“And I’m going to keep doing it.”
He brushes a strand of hair away from your face and then moves his hand to the small of your back, tracing slow figures slowly.
“I’ve missed you so much,” he confesses in a low voice. “Not this,” he hastens to add, referring to sex, “but… us. All these years I’ve tried to convince myself that if we got divorced, it was for a reason. That if I really loved you, and even we were on good terms… I had to let you go.”
You swallow nervously, though you can’t stop looking at him and feeling regret for having wasted time. For not having fought harder for your relationship when there was nothing but the feeling that you were pulling apart. For feeling that you were missing out on each other’s lives by getting carried away by your own ones.
“The only thing I’ve managed to do all these years, despite following that mantra, is to wake up every morning looking for you on what should be your side of the bed.
“I haven’t… gotten over us either. Call me crazy, but… somehow… I felt like I was making the wrong decision when we got divorced, but, as you said… if I loved you, I had to let you go,” the words come out carefully of your lips, even though inside you’re falling apart. “I always kept making coffee for three, and I always had to lie to my daughter and tell her I was taking it to work,” you say, laughing, with tears already streaming down your face.
Leon closes his eyes for a moment and sighs.
It was ridiculous, and you both knew it.
“Chris told me we have to stop acting like this,” you say, shifting a little. Now you’re sitting, your tits exposed with no shame, and your hands reaching for Leon’s. “I don’t want to get married again tomorrow, much less act as if the divorce or our problems never happened, but…”
“But…?”
“I do want that second chance.”
Leon brings your hands to his lips, kissing them, and then kisses you.
“Well, then, let me get to know you all over again. Let me take you on dates, even if they’re a disaster… because I’m a disaster. I want to take you out to dinner without having the excuse of talking about our college-aged daughter’s grades,” you laugh. “Let me make you fall in love with me for a second time.”
“Are you trying to hit on your ex-wife?” you ask playfully, giving him a light nudge with your elbow.
“If you only knew how long I’ve been doing this… but you know I’m terrible at this kind of thing.”
“You’re so corny, you know that?”
“And I know you like it,” you smile even wider, knowing he’s right. “That’s why you married me, isn’t it?”
“That, and many other reasons. But you probably know them.”
He hugs you tightly, burying his face in the crook of your neck. You can feel him trying to hold back his sobs. You, however, can’t hold back yours.
“I’ve never stopped loving you, Leon. And I’ll never stop.”
Your ex-husband pulls away from you, and the first thing you notice are how red his eyes re. He gently takes your chin in his hands and wipes away the tears that keep streaming down your face.
“This time… if there’s a problem, we talk about it. If we get angry, we talk about it. If we feel like we’re losing each other again… we talk about how to find each other again.”
“I don’t want to lose you again…” you whisper, shaking your head.
“And you won’t,” he says, cupping your face with both hands and kissing you. “I didn’t even have to blow out the candles for my birthday wish to come true… and I’m not going to be stupid enough to waste this second chance. I lost you once, even not at all… so I’m not going to risk it all again. If I risk something…” he kisses you again, “it’s us.”
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! Feedback, as well as comments and/or reblogs, are very much appreciated! My inbox is also open in case you want to make a request or talk to me! 💖
nsfw tw 𝜗ৎ — Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Aged up Damian Wayne. / English isn’t my first language, I use grammar checkers to translate. Some stuff might sound weird, sorry!
BRUCE WAYNE ✸
For Bruce Wayne, touching the sky with his hands is the same as having you on your knees in front of him. He’s not the type who goes for fast or messy; he wraps his fist firmly around your hair and lets you take all the time you need. He loves feeling your hot tongue tracing every vein of his cock with pure devotion, like you’ve got all the time in the world and want to spend every second of it worshipping him.
They say the eyes are the window to the soul, and Bruce would love to see yours—huge and glassy, spilling tears because he’s too big and you’re not sure you can take it all. His deep, rough voice would brush against your ear as he murmurs: “Fuck… such a good girl. Look at you, so pretty on your knees, lips stretched around my cock like you were made for this. Taking me so deep… so fucking well. My perfect, obedient girl. That’s it… just like that.”
”
DICK GRAYSON ✸
Dick Grayson learned a ton of things from his dad Bruce, but patience was never on that long list. He’s way too needy, way too desperate. He was already rock hard just from seeing you on your knees in front of him, but the second your lips brushed the tip, he completely lost it.
Still, he doesn’t want to be invasive or force you. But once you take him into your mouth and start actually sucking, the feeling hits him so hard that his hips move on their own, thrusting forward with the clear intention of making you take him all the way to the base. He moans and bites down on his lower lip in a way that’s so perfect, so broken, that it’s easy for you to start dripping like a broken faucet onto the floor of his apartment.
“Fuck, baby…” His voice comes out in little whimpers, no attempt to hold anything back. Dick is loud—shamelessly loud. “Fuck—fuck, baby… your mouth feels so fucking good. I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna fill that pretty little throat of yours until it’s overflowing. God, I love you so much… don’t you dare stop. Keep sucking me just like that—deeper, yeah, just like that… take every drop.”
JASON TODD ✸
Jason is obsessed with watching your lips wrapped around his cock. Not soft and gentle… that doesn’t suit him at all. If you decided to suck him off, it means you’re gonna let him fuck your damn face until you’re crying because it’s too much and you can’t take it anymore.
He grabs your head with both hands and pushes you down until the tip hits the back of your throat. He’s not forcing you into anything; he knows perfectly well that you love it like this, and he just goes along with your intense likes because he’s such an excellent boyfriend, obviously. He loves the feeling of stuffing your mouth completely full, of turning you into a wreck of spit, tears and desperate gasps.
“Come on, princess. You told me you could take it.” He teases, wearing that shit-eating grin. “And now look at you… choking on a real cock like a pathetic little thing. Such a good girl, aren’t you? So fucking good that you can’t even deepthroat without gagging and tearing up. You disappoint me. I expected more from my pretty girl. But it doesn’t matter. Keep trying. You still look so goddamn pretty with your lips stretched around me, drooling and struggling.”
TIM DRAKE ✸
I feel like Tim enjoys eating you out way more than letting you suck him off. Not that he doesn’t love it when you do it, of course he does, but he admits, a little embarrassed, that what really drives him crazy is when you suck his cock and eat his ass at the same time, until he ends up sitting on your face.
The way your tongue fucks his tight hole while you pump his cock at full speed with both hands makes him see stars. That wet, hot sound of your tongue curling against his prostate is enough to bring tears of pure pleasure to his eyes. He wants to bury himself deeper into your mouth, gripping the pillows with brutal force just so he doesn’t lose his balance.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” he moans, biting down on his lower lip, eyes so glassy he can barely see through the tears. “Yes, yes, just like that, baby—don’t you dare stop. God, sweetheart, your tongue is a goddamn miracle, so wet and filthy and perfect. You’re gonna make me lose it—oh my God, I’m so close, I’m gonna fucking cum… ah—ah—ah—“
DAMIAN WAYNE ✸
Damian isn’t some pathetic, desperate guy. On the contrary, he’s a die-hard fanatic of pure, absolute devotion—the kind where he’s the master and you’re there solely to serve him. He’s the type who’d tie your hands behind your back with a tie or a silk scarf, leaving only your mouth at his complete disposal.
He’d let you braid your hair long just so he could pull it forward and back, controlling the exact rhythm with which he wants you to obey. He’s not a sadist: he lets you take him all the way to the back of your throat, but he pulls back the second he notices you’re truly choking and can’t take any more.
“That’s how I like it, beloved,” he murmurs softly near your ear. “Take me deeper. Make me feel how good you are at serving me, and I’ll give you exactly what a perfect little servant deserves. But if you fail me…You won’t sit for a week. I’ll make sure every mark I leave burns until you’re sobbing and begging me to stop.”
Thinking about Dick Grayson finding your old diary. Specifically the page where you made a checklist of all of the things your ideal boyfriend should be and have.
Snooping wasn't his initial intention. He just happened to find it while helping you move into your new shared apartment.
When it fell from a secluded shelf in your closet, a moral dilemma took place in his mind. Clearly, you didn't want anyone to find it, but it was luring him in like a siren song.
After thinking about it carefully — and making sure you were still in the kitchen, packing your extensive mug collection — he decided to quickly leaf though it, trying not to actually read anything.
His intentions were good, he swears, but he can't help but linger on a particular page titled, in bold, pink glittery letters 'dream boyfriend'.
A smirk appears on his face as he reads some of the items.
- nice biceps
- obsessed with me
- puppy dog eyes
- makes me laugh
- dark hair light eyes combo
"What are you doing?"
Your horrified voice startles Dick, but he recovers fast as you try to snatch your diary from his hands. Like the annoying boyfriend he is, he quickly moves it behind his back, forcing you to step closer to him.
"Wow," he teases, "looks like you won the lottery, sweetheart."
The way he says the pet name is condescending, infuriatingly so, and after an initial moment of confusion, you remember the silly list you made when you were in highschool.
"Give it back!" you order, struggling to pry the damn thing from his hands.
"No need to be embarrassed about it. I'm glad to know I'm your type. It's actually kinda creepy how accurate this is."
Embarrassment floods your face, but you don't give up on trying to retrieve the diary — to later burn it, of course. You place your hands on his strong shoulders, using them as leverage to try and reach for his raised hand holding it.
The new position brings your face closer to his, and his eyes immediately fall to your lips. Without thinking about it too much, he starts kissing you, and slowly, he moves both of his hands to your hips, desperate to hold you.
Taking advantage of the distraction, you snatch the diary form his hand and run to the other end of the room. Dick lets out a groan, more annoyed about you interrupting the kiss than anything else.
"Glad to know you're obsessed with me. I can check that off the list," you state triumphantly.
A/N: Found my own list in my notes app and here we are.
So I was taking a break from study, going through my inbox to see if I had already answered anything sitting there and I saw quite a few asks/submissions where my lovely little snakes are doubting themselves as Slytherins bc of their personality, star sign, patronuses, MBTI type, Ilvermorny house etc
The stereotypical Slytherins, the images that pop into peoples heads when they think of what a Slytherin is, is actually the minority of Slytherins in my opinion.
Take me for example, I am a Slytherin, Pisces, Pukwudgie, have a very strong sense of justice, morals, ethics. I am very caring, my jobs have usually been centred around helping people. In my pharmacy retail jobs my goal was to help people, when they came in complaining of stress related symptoms I would talk to them about fixing/managing their symptoms such as stress levels, acne/skin problems, trouble sleeping, self care - attacking the root of the problem while dealing with the symptoms. As a legal assistant I was driven by wanting to help people out with something that is usually extremely stressful and something out of their field of knowledge. Lawyers have a saying that we aren’t just our clients legal advocate, but their therapist and support person all at once.
On the other hand I am also very judgemental (I’m working on it), sassy, bitchy can be an asshole. It’s kind of like saying you can only like one fashion style or one type of cuisine. Very rarely do people fit into neat little boxes.
BUT NO ONE CAN TELL YOU WHO YOU ARE OR ARE NOT, so kindly tell them to go sit on a cactus.
People seem to forget that we aren’t necessarily what our house values are, that’s more Ilvermorny. We are sorted into our houses based primarily off what we value or aspire to be, that doesn’t mean that we automatically are those traits. It also doesn’t mean that we are all of our house traits. Because Crabbe and Goyle never came across as ambitious or cunning.
Furthermore, these traits and values aren’t going to come across in the same way. Let’s take two non Slytherins in the HP world for example; my lovely Newt Scamander and Jacob Kowalski. Jacob’s ambition is to open up a bakery, Newt’s ambition is to save and care for magical creatures. They are completely different, someone’s greatest ambition could be to start a family, or graduate from school whereas another’s greatest ambition could be to get into politics, or medicine to develop a cure for some disease. Looking at these ambitions, you automatically place them along a scale at different places. But they are all ambitions.
For example, we can admire fraternity and traditionalism but these values don’t always mesh with others such as self-preservation or ambition.
What we value does however play a role in determining how we behave and make choices.
Most overlook that all of the Hogwarts houses are loyal, it just presents in different ways:
Gryffindors: loyal to house and ideals and morals
Ravenclaws: loyal to their passions, facts and hubris
Hufflepuffs: loyal to those they choose, loyal to their morals and ethics
Slytherins: loyal to their house and family, chosen or birth, loyal to themselves
Slytherins aren’t all massive assholes/bitches, moody and snarky and sassy. Just like Hufflepuffs aren’t all innocent little cinnamon rolls and can be just as snarky, moody and bitchy as anyone. Zacharias Smith anyone??? Gryffindors are not always chivalrous, brave and righteous - Peter Pettigrew. Ravenclaws aren’t all uptight swots who only care about knowledge or adhering to one school of thought, Luna Lovegood.
Slytherins have their own morals, ethic codes. We actually have a strong sense of fairness and sense of honour. It just may not marry up with other peoples, which is normal as a human being. We also tend to have the ability to set aside our own beliefs if it is in the way of what is right or needs to be done.
A lot of people tend to forget that others are just as complex and multi-faceted as they themselves are, which means that they tend to say “thats not right they dont go together” when they come across something that doesn’t fit their own perception, which unless has been given thought is usually very shallow and takes in popular opinion and stereotypes.
They also forget that JK Rowling has her own biases which show in her writing. They also forget that it didn’t suit her story to show depth and diversity in the four houses. The stereotypes are a literary device.
So please be your unique selfs, fuck what others say and what the stereotypes are. You don’t have to act like others who fall under some same “label” as you, you were sorted into whichever house for a reason. Be a pastel loving, soft little cinnamon roll Slytherin or a badass bad bitch or whatever you choose to be. It doesn’t make you any more or any less of a Slytherin (Or Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff or Gryffindor or what have you.)
You are wonderful as you are, there is no other who can be who you are ad life would be incredibly boring if we were all the same.
you were running extremely late, being punctual was something you took pride in but you honestly lost track of time. you couldn’t take all the blame though as your stage five clinger boyfriend couldn’t keep his hands off of you the night before, which ultimately left you running into the shower and into the clothes you had laid out the night before as to not keep your friends waiting any longer.
“bye dickie i gotta go! i’ll call you when i get there!” you shouted before you exited the front door, already calling your friends to explain that you’re currently on the way. meanwhile dick was still in bed, falling in and out of sleep with his cheek pressed into the pillow and a blanket barely covering his naked figure, when he heard the door close.
and when he finally registered your words his eyes fluttered open—leaving him a bit confused. did you really just leave?without kissing him?
he laid there frozen for a moment, his head trying to replay the past couple of hours to see if he maybe did something wrong yet he was only met with flashbacks of you in pure bliss.
so he called you. “i literally just left the apartment dick grayson” you said as soon as you answered the phone.
“i know but um would you mind coming back?”
“i promised the girls that i would—”
“you forgot something, something really important” you pulled over on the curb, taking a peek into your purse to see if all the necessities were there. chapstick? check! emergency pad? check! all important identifications, cards and emergency cash? check, check and check.
“what did i leave?” you asked.
“my kiss” he muttered, his tone giving away the fact that he most definitely had a pout on his face. you sat back in your seat, a lovesick smile adoring your face as you shook your head in disbelief.
the goodbye kiss had become second nature to you both quickly after you began dating. even if you parted ways for less than an hour you two kissed like it was the end of the world.
“dickie i was running late, it completely slipped my mind im sorry” he shrugged even though you couldn’t see it.
“not mad at me or anything right?”
“not at all handsome” you coo’ed making him hum in satisfaction, the tone in your voice only making him wish you were back in bed to continue last nights fun.
“soo are you coming back? can’t have a good day without my kiss” you sighed, already opening up your groupchat to apologize to your group of friends that you wouldn’t be making it to brunch.
“if i go back home you’re not letting me leave again” the sound of his giggles filled the car and you couldn’t help but fall even harder for the man on the other end.
“i’ll be back in five”
“i’ll be in bed waiting”
chubby speaks! : I have no idea if this is good, I have writers block rip
anonymous said: "dex comes home and sees you wearing his clothes... they're a little too big for you, and he blushes when he notices the size difference-he just can't help himself but gets all hot and bothered :("
ugh :( dex coming home after a long day, finding you padding around his apartment in one of his old t-shirts (comically oversized on you), and his boxers. his heart just swells, seeing you in his stuff, all his.
you greet him with that big hug he looks forward to, and a sweet kiss, an exaggerated 'mwaah!' sound that makes him smile. he looks down at the large clothes hanging from your body, "you're–" he stutters over his words, "you're wearing my clothes?" he furrows his eyebrows, trying to ignore his cock twitching in his pants insistently.
you nod eagerly, "mhm! mine are in the wash" you rub his bicep in a way you know makes his face flush a pretty pink, "you don't mind, right?". it's funny, seeing him blush and turn to putty when you touch him in the right places.
he immediately shakes his head, reaching down to adjust his hard-on so maybe it isn't so obvious, choking a groan at the contact of his hand. "c-course not, baby" he reassures you, pathetically so. "i'll make you some dinner, okay?" he walks past you in the kitchen, trying his very best to ignore the thoughts that invade his mind, one of those being the fact that you definitely don't have panties or a bra on.
the whole night he's being painfully obvious just how much seeing you in his clothes effects him. eyeing you up and down and stiffening up whenever you touch him. and you're not helping ay all, rubbing up against him and kissing his neck softly, making him feel crazy.
at some point, you sit on his lap to watch a movie and he just fully cums in his pants at the contact, splurting cum in his boxers and apologizing profusely. he was just so pent up, it's not his fault!! :(
but he makes sure to eat you out real good as an apology! <3
summary: you miss bruce while he’s away on business, so you send him a little reminder of what’s waiting for him at home.
tags: sexting, sending nudes, teasing, dirty talk, phone/video call sex, mutual masturbation, needy!bruce, soft dom!reader, no y/n
wc: 2.1k
a/n: dedicating this one to @bat2nsignia, the biggest bruce freak i know 😛 ily, and i hope you like it!
Bruce's phone vibrates against the conference table while Lucius leads the latest in a series of investor meetings. Your name lights up the screen, and he knows he shouldn't check it. Lucius is counting on his input before Wayne Enterprises moves forward with any agreements, so he should be paying attention. But he's only human.
You: missing you
He types back quickly under the table.
Bruce: I miss you too. I should be home tomorrow night.
He sets the phone back down and tries to refocus, but immediately reaches for it when it buzzes again.
You: [Attachment: 1 photo]
He opens it casually, expecting a photo of whatever you've been up to—a meal, a new purchase, something mundane.
What he gets instead makes his breath catch.
You're curled up in his bed with the sheets pooled around your waist, wearing one of his dress shirts. The top buttons are undone, revealing enough skin for him to know there's nothing underneath.
Bruce: You're going to be the death of me.
You: and what a way to go that would be ;)
You: wanted you to see what you're missing
You: how's your meeting going?
He adjusts himself under the table, grateful that every investor in the room is focused on the presentation.
Bruce: It was going fine.
You: was?
He needs to stop responding. He has twenty people around him. This is wildly inappropriate.
And yet...
Bruce: Send me another.
The three dots appear immediately. You were waiting for him to ask.
You: what do you want to see?
Bruce: You know what I want.
You: i really don't... you'll have to be more specific
His jaw tightens. Of course you're going to make him spell it out.
Bruce: Less shirt. More you.
You: that's better
You: give me a minute
That minute feels like an eternity. Bruce has stopped registering what Lucius is saying altogether, his mind stuck on you: bare legs tangled in the sheets, your body warm and soft on his side of the bed.
His phone buzzes.
You: [Attachment: 1 photo]
The shirt is completely unbuttoned now, falling open to reveal your bare chest. Your free hand rests low on your stomach, fingertips grazing the waistband of your black lace underwear where it peeks out above the sheets. Bruce has to physically stop himself from making a sound.
Bruce: Fuck.
You: that good?
Bruce: Don’t be so pleased with yourself.
You: can't help it <3
Bruce: Clearly.
You: tell me what you’re thinking about right now
Bruce glances down at the increasingly uncomfortable fit of his pants.
Bruce: What do you think?
You: i think i want you to say it
Bruce: You. In our bed. No clothes.
You: what else?
Bruce: Your hand. Where mine should be.
You: just where mine is?
He swallows. He's still painfully aware of where he is, even if that awareness has done very little to restrain him.
Bruce: Not just there. Everywhere.
The typing indicator appears, disappears, then appears again.
You: i wish you were here
Bruce: Tomorrow night. I promise.
You: that’s so far away though
Bruce: I know.
You: i can't stop thinking about you
His pulse quickens.
Bruce: Yeah?
You: mhm. especially about the morning before you left...
You: what you did to me before your flight
He remembers. He'd woken you up with his mouth between your legs and made you come twice before he'd even properly kissed you good morning. You'd barely been able to walk him to the car.
You: i've been trying to recreate it but it's not the same :(
Picturing you alone in bed, touching yourself and chasing the same release he’d given you, makes him shift in his seat again.
You: want to help?
Bruce: I'm still in this meeting.
You: so leave.
Bruce starts typing out a response, something about how he can’t simply walk out in the middle of—
You: [Attachment: 1 photo]
In this one, the shirt's gone entirely. The phone's angled down over your body as you lie back against the pillows with your free hand slipped between your legs. The black lace he glimpsed earlier is fully visible now, darkened enough at the center to make his mouth go dry.
“Mr. Wayne?”
Bruce’s head snaps up. Every person at the table is looking at him.
The investor seated across the room gestures to the figures displayed on the screen. "Your thoughts?"
Bruce clears his throat, schooling his expression into something neutral. "I trust Lucius's judgment on this. I agree with his assessment."
Lucius raises an eyebrow but says nothing. The investors appear satisfied and return their attention back to the presentation.
Bruce looks back down at his phone.
Bruce: You need to stop.
You: do you really want me to stop?
He hesitates, but only for a second.
Bruce: No.
You: then don’t tell me to stop
You: tell me what you want instead
Bruce: More.
You: more what?
Bruce: Everything. I want to see everything.
You: ask nicely.
A breathless laugh nearly escapes him. You really have no intention of making this easy for him.
Bruce: Please show me.
Then, just to indulge you, he adds:
Bruce: I need to see you.
For a while, there's no response. Then his phone buzzes again.
You: [Attachment: 1 video]
He stares at the thumbnail. He could watch it on silent. No one would know. His thumb moves toward the play button—
You: don't you dare watch that on mute.
He freezes.
You: i want you to hear every second of it
You: so i suggest you find somewhere private
Before he can respond, his phone begins to vibrate with a call and your name fills the screen beneath the FaceTime icon.
The responsible choice is obvious: decline the call, pocket his phone, and give Lucius the attention he promised. Instead, he's already standing.
"Excuse me," he says, moving toward the door. "I need to take this."
Lucius glances from the phone in Bruce’s hand to his face, but Bruce doesn't wait for him to comment.
The hallway outside the conference room is mercifully empty. He finds an unoccupied office several doors down, steps inside, and locks the door behind him. Only then does he accept the call.
You appear on the screen with flushed cheeks, and your whole expression brightens with a smile when you see him. Somehow, that affects Bruce more than any of the pictures.
"Hi," you say.
The sound of your voice only makes it worse, sharpening his longing into an ache that feels almost painful.
"Hi." His own voice comes out rougher than intended.
"Did you watch the video?"
"Not yet. Someone told me to find somewhere private first."
Your smile widens. "Smart man. Watch it now."
Bruce props his phone against the desk and opens the video. It lasts no more than fifteen seconds, but it's devastating. You're on your back with your hand between your legs, touching yourself slowly, almost teasingly. The quiet sighs and whimpering moans that slip from your lips go straight through him.
When the video ends, the call returns to full screen. You watch him expectantly. "Liked that?"
"You have no idea what you're doing to me."
"I have some idea." Your gaze moves deliberately down his body. "Are you hard?"
"Yes."
"Show me."
Bruce exhales through his nose. “This is reckless, even for you.”
"You locked the door, didn't you?"
He glances toward it. "Yes."
“Then I think we both know you’re going to show me.”
A beat passes. Then his hand moves to his belt, and the sharp breath you take makes every risk worthwhile.
"There you go," you murmur as your own hand slips beneath your panties.
Bruce unzips his pants, finally relieving some of the pressure that has been building since that first photograph. When he wraps his hand around himself, your soft moan comes through the speaker.
"Fuck," he groans as his head falls back against the wall. "I miss you."
"I miss you too." Your breathing has already begun to quicken. "Tell me what you’d be doing if you were here."
“I’d put you on your knees first.” His hand moves in steady strokes, eyes fixed on the screen as you touch yourself. "Watch you look up at me with those pretty eyes while you take me into your mouth. Hear the way you gag when I pull your hair and push deeper."
Your hand moves faster. “And?”
“Then I’d have you beneath me in that bed. Taste you until you couldn’t remember why sending those pictures seemed like a good idea.” His voice drops lower. “Your legs around my shoulders while you try to stay quiet even though we both know you can’t.”
“Bruce…”
"Then I'd be inside you, feeling you squeeze around me." His grip tightens. "Listening to the way you say my name when you're close."
A shaky breath leaves you as your hips jerk upward. “Keep talking, please.”
"I'd take my time with you." His voice breaks on a moan. "Spend the entire night making sure you remember exactly what I do to you."
"God, Bruce, I'm close." You're visibly unraveling now, right on the edge, thighs trembling around your wrist.
"I know, sweetheart. Let me see. Let me hear you."
"Only if you come with me," you gasp out. "Please, Bruce. Together."
His hand moves faster, matching your rhythm through the screen. “Together,” he promises, the word coming out strained.
"I wish you were here, wish I could feel you."
"You will. Soon." His breathing is ragged now, everything building to that breaking point. "Look at me."
Your eyes find the camera, glazed and desperate. That nearly finishes him on its own.
"Please—I can't—"
"Now, sweetheart. Come for me now."
You break at the same moment he does. Your breathless cry of his name blends with his rough groan of yours through the phone. He watches you arch and shudder, aching to feel you clenching around him instead of his hand, the frustration of the distance somehow making it even more intense.
For a long moment, there's just the sound of both of you breathing, trying to come back down.
“Well,” you say eventually, a satisfied smile spreading across your face. “I think that was significantly more interesting than your meeting.”
Bruce huffs out a laugh as he reaches for a tissue and begins putting himself back together. "You're trouble."
"You like me when I'm trouble."
"I do." He picks up the phone and looks at you properly. You're glowing, hair tangled across the pillow, completely beautiful. "I really do miss you."
Your expression softens. "I miss you too." You pull the sheet over yourself. “Do you really have to stay until tomorrow?”
Bruce glances at the time. The current meeting is nearly over, and everything on tomorrow’s schedule can be handled remotely. “I’m moving my flight up.”
Your eyebrows lift. “Bruce, I was only complaining. You don’t actually have to do that.”
“I know.” He runs a hand through his hair, then smooths it back into place. “Everything tomorrow can be handled over video. I want to be home tonight.”
A smile slowly spreads across your face. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Bruce looks toward the locked door. "I should get back before Lucius comes looking for me."
"Do you think he knows?"
"Lucius knows everything."
"Wonderful. Love that for us."
"Would you like me to apologize to him on your behalf?"
You laugh softly, settling back against the pillows, and the sound makes him wish he was already home.
"So, see you tonight?" you ask.
"See you tonight."
"And when you get here?"
His gaze darkens. "You already know."
"I want to hear you say it again."
"Goodbye."
"Bruce!"
He ends the call while you're still laughing.
It takes him another minute to compose himself. He straightens his shirt and tie, checking his reflection in the darkened office window until he once again resembles a somewhat respectable man.
When he returns to the conference room, Lucius pauses only briefly before continuing the presentation. Bruce settles into his chair and opens the documents in front of him.
Lucius finishes explaining the next set of projections before addressing him. "Everything handled?"
"Yes."
Lucius studies him for a moment. "Good."
Bruce knows that tone. He ignores it.
“I’m returning to Gotham tonight,” he says. “I’ll join tomorrow’s meetings by video.”
“Of course. I’ll make the arrangements.”
No smirk. No teasing comment. Somehow, Lucius’s professionalism is worse.
Bruce's phone vibrates one final time.
You: can't wait to see you, baby <3
He makes himself wait to respond, and by the time he does, he's seated inside the Wayne Enterprises jet.
