inc0nsp1cuous

[inc0nsp1cuous]

How it feel to finally accept and embrace the cringe of reading x reader fics

[inc0nsp1cuous]

Mithridatism

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x Vigilante!Reader (fem)

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: descriptions of needles, slight impact play, edging/ denial, oral f!receiving

No use of y/n, GN!anatomy (I think)

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Eeek! This is my first fic so please be gentle 🙏🙏

Sorry for any grammatical errors, plot holes, or OOC behavior!! I wrote this at midnight last night with zero plan except for the concept, please comment with feedback/ opinions! Ps this is also my first time writing smut, and it’s completely self-indulgent so enjoy!!

Mithridatism - the practice of building up immunity to poison by taking gradually increasing doses of it

It was stupid. You don’t know why you even agreed in the first place, but here you are… in the cold, dark cave. The vile sits in front of you, the Bat stares from his chair, gaze calculating but less cold than normal. It’s odd to see him like this, there’s almost a hint of fear in his expression - no, it’s closer to apprehension. He wouldn’t show fear.

“You have the antidote, right?” You ask, and of course he does. You know that. This is merely a last-ditch attempt to prolong the inevitable. He doesn’t respond, just pulls a small glass container from his belt to show.

This routine has been going on for the past couple of months, going to the cave after an exhausting patrol to microdose one of the Rouge’s toxins or poisons. It started with Scarecrow, which was awful, but at least you’re mostly immune now. Those horrible nights were spent shaking and crying on the damp floor of the cave. You wanted to kill him, or at least give him a solid piece of your mind, even if he was just trying to help. He said something about how it’s better to have control over it here than go through the real thing out there. Bullshit. Well, maybe not, but you were still bitter. You had worked through Scarecrow’s fear toxin, and Joker’s laughing gas, now you’re onto Ivy’s pheromones. At least you had a decent idea of what the former two did, this one is sort of a mystery, having a slightly different effect on everyone who you’ve seen affected.

“The whole thing?” Another question you already know the answer to, maybe if you stall enough he’ll get frustrated and send you home. He nods, and with a slight tremble in your hands, you pick up the vile, making sure the syringe is secure. You roll up your sleeve and place the needle to your skin, God- why didn’t he just leave it in gas form, this is much more daunting. The needle enters your skin and you squeeze your eyes shut, pushing the piston down and letting the toxin enter your body. The cool liquid sends a chill through your arm that makes your stomach turn. This is always the worst part. “I thought Ivy only did this to men, why do I even have to do this?” I sigh, dropping the syringe back on the table.

“You don’t know that. Rouges are unpredictable, they’ll do anything to get out of a pinch.” His voice moves through you, eyes boring down in a way that makes you feel small, something that not many others can achieve.

“You speak as if they’re animals” You roll your eyes, hating his tendency to lump every criminal into the same category.

“Just focus on your breathing, it will take effect soon.” His voice almost imperceptibly softens, always spinning the conversation somehow.

Of course he’s right, it’s almost infuriating how immediately after he says that your lips seem to gain a new level of sensitivity. You trace your tongue over the roof of your mouth, it sends a rush down your spine. Shit. You can’t control the way your breathing picks up and your chest starts to move heavier. Your tongue moves over your lips now, did his lips always look that appetizing? Woah- okay, it’s definitely starting to hit. You stare up at him, praying to God he hasn’t somehow unlocked the power of mind reading as your eyes trace over the muscles that strain against his suit. A night of fighting crime has given his arms a delicious pump and you can’t help but think what they would look like around your-

“It’s starting?” His words snap you out of your frenzy, your eyes shooting open from their previous half-lidded glance.

“I- uh- yeah.” The shame begins to settle in as you realize he knows exactly what’s on your mind. The next sensation that makes itself known is the ache that begins to cry between your thighs. Begging for a fraction of friction, a semblance of relief. If it continues at this rate, it’s going to be a painfully long night.

“How long ‘till I get the antidote?” Your voice takes on a new tone, a slightly breathy quality as you begin to sway to take your mind off the need that’s beginning to boil, quickly threatening to burn you up if you don’t act on it.

“No antidote tonight, unless you’re in critical condition.” His cold voice is a stark contrast to the fire blazing through your body, it’s almost soothing, but nonetheless infuriating.

“Bullshit. Why is this different from any other night?” It’s pathetic the way your voice has a slight whine, not that you can control it. Your thighs push together tight to focus your mind.

“Because this toxin can’t kill you. It’s a battle of will. And you seem to be losing already.” His words are so taunting you want to punch his stupid face, then maybe kiss it… then maybe ride it. Your hands move to rub your face, manually attempting to wipe the filthy images from your brain.

“You fucking asshole!” The words fly out of your mouth before you can stop them, turning as you begin to walk away.

“Come here.” His voice is commanding, the tone he uses with criminals makes your gums ache, a feeling you didn’t know was possible. In your current pathetic state, you can do nothing but turn back around and follow his orders, cursing yourself as you do exactly what he says. This level of obedience is unheard of for you, making it even more embarrassing as you move right where he wants you. “Now you listen to me?” Though you can’t see, you’re almost positive he has a brow raised in an expression you read as cocky, though most others would simply see stoicism.

“Shut up.” You grumble, eyes darting to the floor; bad idea as you catch a delicious glance at his thighs before you stare at your shoes.

“Mouthy.” His ever-analytical, one-word remark makes your blood boil, almost matching the fervor of your desire. His hand raises to grab your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You can feel your heart pounding in your ears as the eye contact makes you feel slightly feral.

“Prick.” You quickly rebut, not having the mental wherewithal to think of a better comeback. Before you can register anything else, your lips are on his, who initiated this move? You have no clue. It’s bliss the way you melt into him, eyes fluttering shut as you quickly stop the sounds that desperately want to escape. You were already desperate enough, he didn’t need the satisfaction of knowing how quickly his lips could undo you. The intensity grows as the fire in your gut flourishes, you soon abandon hope of concealing your soft whines as his lips feel like a fresh dose to an addict. Your head spins as your arms find their way around his neck, his hands laying claim to your waist. Begrudgingly, you have to pause for breath, staring up at him with an equal mix of shock and desire. He opens his mouth to speak, what he says only confuses you further.

“Jump.”

“What-?” You’re completely caught off guard, voice a sultry mix of need and trepidation.

“Just-” He begins again, but you jump before he can finish his thought. He immediately catches and lifts you, one hand under your butt for support as he carries you across the cave, long strides making quick work as he moves to the Batmobile. When he places you down on the hood you gasp, sex-addled brain making quick work of deducing what’s about to happen. A breath catches in your throat as you notice how blown out his pupils are, but before you can make a comment, he sinks to his knees. As he looks up at you, you swear you can see salvation in his lips. It takes a quick second to process that the Batman is on his fucking knees, but once it sets in, it’s like a switch is flipped in your brain and only fervor can be found.

“Are you sure-?” Dizzy voice, not sure if you could handle him taking it back now. In his usual fashion, he doesn’t say anything, just hums against the fabric of your pants. Damn. By the time you get your bottoms off, it should probably be embarrassing how slick you already are, but it might just be a side effect of the pheromones, and honestly, you’re too far lost in it to even care. As soon as his mouth makes contact with you, you let the fire finally consume you, letting yourself succumb to the ecstasy as he begins to work between your thighs. Embarrassment is a strong theme tonight, crimson burns your cheeks as he effortlessly draws noises from you that you didn’t even know you could make, as if it’s an art he’s practiced to perfection. Within minutes he has your back arching, tears streaming down your face as you cry out the most lewd things in search of release.

“Please- mmph~ please please Bats, I’m so-” Your babbling is cut off when he pulls away from you, a stupidly handsome grin on his face as he stares at your helpless form “Oh you fucking asshole, I swear to fuck-” The drivel spews from your lips, only interrupted by a ringing smack to your pussy. You scream, sensitivity making it feel like a million needles stabbing.

“Behave. Where did that pretty little obedient girl go? Huh?” He tuts his tongue, shaking his head in the most infuriatingly attractive way possible.

“I’m sorry- please... I just need-” You begin to whine again, he prompts you to further humiliate yourself

“Need what?” His voice is so close to your core that it sends a shiver up your spine.

“Need you please- I promise I’ll be good, just-” You’re practically panting as you beg, moaning as he finally continues, quickly drawing you to your peak once again. He has you just where he wants you, right on the edge as your legs begin to shake. Then, he stops. Pulling away once again. You actually burst into sobs this time, the pheromones making your brain scream for him to just let you come.

“A battle of will.” He remarks, parroting his previous words as his voice goes back to the cold and stoic demeanor he had earlier tonight. You might kill him. “See you tomorrow.” You swear you can catch the way his sadistic eyes gleam at your defeat.