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tfmerc · 2 months ago

Text

trapped

pairing: robin (dick grayson) x catwoman apprentice! reader

tags: mdni, fem reader, reader is a year older than dick, enemies to lovers¿?, dick calls reader “cat”, reader calls dick “birdie”/“baby”, very hormonal teens, dry humping, enclosed space, forced proximity, making out, groping, sub dick, thigh riding, praise, handjob, p in v, cowgirl, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is more “experienced” (lmk if i missed any)

You had never known stability. Not in the traditional sense.

Your earliest memories were of cold nights and empty pockets, of learning that in Gotham, you had to take what you wanted because no one was going to give it to you. And maybe that was why Selina Kyle took you in—because she saw something of herself in you.

From the moment Selina took you under her wing, normalcy became a foreign concept. She never pretended to be a mother, never showered you in words of affection, but she provided. She gave you food, a place to sleep, and most importantly—a purpose.

Life with her was exhilarating. Nights spent darting across Gotham’s rooftops, breaking into places you had no business being in, taking what you wanted simply because you could. Selina taught you everything—how to move unseen, how to pick locks with delicate precision, how to manipulate, how to charm.

And, of course, how to run.

But no matter how good you were, they were better.

Batman and Robin.

They were always there, always a step behind, always chasing.

Selina handled Batman, slipping through his grasp time and time again, leaving only whispered promises and stolen kisses in her wake.

And you? You were left to deal with Robin.

The first time you saw him, you nearly laughed.

A kid. Shorter than you, all bright colors and attitude, wearing a mask that barely hid the smugness in his expression.

Not like you were a kid yourself, right?

“You’re kidding,” You had said, eyeing the small figure in bright red, green, and yellow. “You’re Robin?”

From the way Selina warned you about Robin, you expected… something else.

Not this short, flamboyant boy in pixie boots and wearing that shit-eating grin.

Robin bristled at your tone, crossing his arms. “Yeah, and?”

“You just seem… smaller than I expected.”

He scoffed. “You’re, like, barely taller than me.”

You hummed, amused. “Still taller.”

It should’ve been easy. You’d spent months training under Selina, learning how to evade, how to slip through fingers like water. He was just a kid—a kid in bright colors, a cape to slow him down, and all energy and attitude.

But Robin was fast.

And relentless.

No matter how quick you were, how well you knew Gotham’s rooftops, he kept up. Every twist, every jump, he was right there, like a shadow that refused to be shaken.

He grinned through it all, like the chase itself was the fun part.

By the time you finally lost him—ducking into a hidden alley, heart pounding, breath sharp—you realized something.

You weren’t annoyed.

You were excited.

For the first time in your life, you were looking forward to something.

And it became a game.

Every time Selina clashed with Batman, you and Robin danced around each other, locked in your own little battle. He was all quips and acrobatics, relentless determination wrapped in bright colors, and you matched him move for move.

And then, somewhere along the way, over the years, the game changed.

It was subtle at first.

The way his hands lingered just a second too long when he grabbed you. The way his breath hitched when you leaned in, voice low and teasing.

And then, one night, after a particularly close chase—

“You’re slowing down, Birdie,” you teased, perched on the edge of a rooftop, looking down at him. “Getting tired of chasing me?”

Robin huffed, rolling his shoulders, the movement fluid yet tense, like he was shaking off exhaustion—or frustration. He was older now, no longer the scrawny kid you used to outrun on Gotham’s rooftops. He’d grown into himself, his frame broader, his stance more grounded, more sure. The suit, once bright and almost ridiculous in its vibrancy, seemed different now. The red looked richer, darker under the moonlight, the shadows clinging to the fabric, emphasizing the sharp angles of his body. His cape, now black and lined with gold, draped over his shoulders with an ease that made him seem more intimidating, more like a real threat than just Batman’s sidekick.

And then there was his voice—lower, rougher, with an edge that hadn’t been there before.

An edge that reminded you of Gotham’s Dark Knight.

Gone was the high-energy bravado of a kid playing hero. Now, when he spoke, there was weight behind his words, something firm, something undeniably commanding. It sent a strange thrill through you, though you’d never admit it.

“Who says I’m not letting you get away on purpose?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Awfully generous of you.”

“Maybe I like the chase,” he said, stepping closer, his gaze sharp. “Maybe I like you.”

The air shifted.

Your smirk didn’t waver, but your heart did.

For the first time, you didn’t have a quip ready.

And then, just as quickly as it came, the moment passed.

He grinned again, all mischief and ease, like he hadn’t just thrown a wrench into your entire world.

You rolled your eyes, shoving down whatever had just coiled in your chest. “You really should work on your flirting, Robin.”

“Is that a challenge?”

You leapt off the rooftop, and this time—

You let him catch you.

You were nineteen now.

It wasn’t that you weren’t grateful to Selina—she’d taken you in when you had nothing, taught you everything you knew. But you weren’t a stray kitten anymore. You had your own ambitions, your own scores to settle, and it was time you made a name for yourself.

Tonight was supposed to be the first step.

A simple break-in. A massive corporation with deep pockets and even deeper corruption. You weren’t just stealing from them—you were stealing leverage. Blackmail, blueprints, the kind of information that could buy you power.

Everything had been going smoothly—until he showed up.

“Still breaking into places you don’t belong?”

You didn’t need to turn around. You knew that voice—low, smug, and just the right amount of irritating.

Robin.

Or, as you liked to think of him now, Gotham’s Most Persistent Pain in the Ass.

You smirked, still focused on the files flickering across the computer screen. “You know me, Birdie. I just love a good challenge.”

“You’re getting sloppy,” he countered, stepping closer.

You caught his reflection in the screen—older now, taller. The bright colors of his suit had been traded for something darker, more tactical. His stance was solid, muscles tense, ready to spring.

You sighed dramatically. “You gonna fight me, or just lecture me to death?”

“I was thinking both.”

And then he moved.

You barely had time to react before he was on you, reaching for the drive in your hand. You twisted away, knocking over a chair in your retreat, and bolted.

The chase was on.

You darted through the office space, leaping over desks, twisting through narrow hallways, all while Robin stayed infuriatingly close. You could feel him at your heels, relentless as ever, and for the first time in a long time, you wondered if you might not shake him this time.

Then you saw it—a maintenance door left slightly ajar.

You shoved through, sprinting inside just as Robin reached for you. His fingers just barely caught the back of your jacket, and in his effort to stop you, he yanked.

Hard.

The force sent you both crashing through the doorway, tumbling down a short flight of metal stairs in a mess of limbs and curses.

You landed first, sprawled on your back against the cold floor. Robin landed on top of you, knocking the breath from your lungs as the door behind you slammed shut with an ominous clunk.

A silence settled.

“…Did you just tackle me down a flight of stairs?”

Dick groaned, pushing himself up slightly, bracing himself on his arms—his body still pressed against yours. His breath was warm against your cheek when he muttered, “You fell.”

“You pulled me.”

“You ran.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting slightly beneath him—only to realise just how close you were.

The space around you was tiny.

Metal shelves lined the walls, stacked with old equipment and cleaning supplies. The air was thick with dust and stale air, and the dim, flickering light overhead barely illuminated anything.

You and Dick were practically pressed against each other.

And worse?

The door wasn’t budging.

It’s like it automatically locked you both in the moment you entered.

Dick must’ve come to the same conclusion because he exhaled sharply, muttering a quiet, “Fantastic.”

You turned to face him, looking him up and down. “Aww. Trapped in a tiny, enclosed space with me? Try not to look so excited, Birdie.”

Dick clenched his jaw, shifting his weight, and—

Oh.

That was… interesting.

For the first time since you met him, he was the one who faltered. His breath hitched, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested against your waist.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, voice dropping to a whisper. “Never been this close to a girl before?”

His gaze flickered to your lips before he caught himself, schooling his expression into something unimpressed. “I hate you.”

“Uh-huh,” you hummed, tilting your head. “That’s why you’re still on top of me?”

Dick tensed. Then, with a sharp inhale, he pushed off you, moving to sit up—only to immediately hit his head against one of the low shelves with a dull thud.

You laughed.

Dick glared, rubbing the spot where he’d smacked his skull. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Oh, of course.”

You pushed yourself up, stretching out your legs as much as the tiny space allowed. Dick was sitting against the opposite wall now, knees bent, arms resting over them. The space was too small for either of you to fully move without touching the other.

A slow smirk curled at your lips as an idea took root.

You shifted, closing the distance, swinging a leg over his to straddle his lap.

His whole body stiffened.

“W—What are you doing?” he asked, voice suddenly very unsteady.

“Getting comfortable,” you murmured, leaning in just slightly. “You don’t mind, do you?”

His breath shuddered.

This was new.

You’d spent years teasing him, pushing his buttons, testing his patience. But this—the way he was looking at you now, wide-eyed, breathless, trapped beneath you with nowhere to go—this was different.

You could feel the way his heart was racing.

You dragged your fingers down his chest, slow and deliberate. “Still think I’m getting sloppy?”

Dick exhaled shakily. “I—”

He stares unabashedly at the way your plush thighs brush against his sides when you shift to make yourself comfortable, he feels the way heavier breasts push against his chest as you leaned closer.

Dick wasn’t an idiot.

He knew you were doing this on purpose.

You can feel Dick’s eyes, despite it being hidden behind that damn domino mask of his. It was all over your face, and for a moment—you saw the way his breath hitch when his eyes landed on your lips.

That only fueled you more.

And without a second thought, you kissed him.

The second your lips met his, the tension snapped.

Dick made a quiet, desperate noise against your lips, his hands grasping at your waist, unsure whether to pull you closer or push you away. You made the decision for him.

His hesitation lasted seconds before he gave in, melting beneath you, responding with an eagerness that sent a thrill down your spine.

You nipped at his lower lip, earning a shuddered gasp, and God, you’d never seen him like this—needy, breathless, completely at your mercy.

“Is this what you wanted?” you murmured against his lips, your hips shifting just enough to make him choke on a breath.

His fingers dug into your sides as he struggles to maintain control.

He swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “Fuck—Cat… no—” Despite the words, his body betrays his desire, hips twitching up to meet yours, his hands sliding up your back.

Dick kisses you again, soft and deep, pouring his desperation and desire into the embrace. And you didn’t waste a second to kiss him back, your hips slowly moving against his thigh, seeking out any sort of relief while also trying to provide Dick some.

And Dick—

He whimpered, soft and pathetic, adorable coming from him.

Your hand moved to cup his face, your thumb stroking along the soft skin of his cheek, leaning down to deepen the kiss.

"You're so pretty." You murmur softly, pulling away slightly to stare at him, your hand making its way to remove his mask. But Dick’s hand immediately caught your wrist, stopping you.

“N-no, wait, mask stays on, Cat. We can’t—“ He didn’t finish the sentence as you rolled your hips against him instead, body jerking in his hold. Somehow the gravity of the situation just stills in his head for a moment. “Shit, shit, wait—we should talk about this, right?”

“What’s there to talk about?” You mutter out, as you press kisses along his jawline. “You want this—I want this. We both want this, don’t you agree?”

You could feel his breath, ragged and shallow.

There was no escaping the sheer intensity of it. Every inch of his body was pushing into yours, and his movements—though tentative—were driven by an undeniable need. His hips, for all his effort to hold back, shifted instinctively, and for a brief second, you felt the unmistakable press of his body against yours. And in one swift motion, you removed his domino mask, tossing it aside as your eyes met his baby blue ones.

He looked at you with wide eyes, clearly torn between wanting to pull away and wanting more. You could practically hear his heart racing in the thick silence.

He swallowed hard. “I—” His voice cracked, and for the first time, you saw it. The boyish cockiness was gone, replaced by something more raw, more real. He was trembling slightly, unsure but wanting, and it made something stir in your chest.

You slid your hands up his chest, fingers brushing over the outline of his suit, feeling the heat of his skin beneath the fabric. His reaction was immediate—he let out a quiet, shaky breath as his hands slid down your back, pulling you even closer.

He kissed you again, this time with more force, his lips hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough. His hands roamed, brushing against your sides, your waist, his fingers lightly pressing against the curves of your body. You could feel him struggling to stay in control, his movements growing more erratic, more desperate, but still so careful, as if he was afraid of pushing you too far.

“Damn it,” he muttered between kisses, his voice tight with frustration. “I hate that you’re making me lose control.”

You smiled against his lips, pulling back just slightly. “You don’t have to hate it, you know.”

His eyes met yours again, and there it was—vulnerable, unsure, but undeniably drawn to you. “I—” He paused, exhaling slowly, as if gathering his thoughts. “I want this. But I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“You don’t have to know everything,” you said softly, running your hand down his chest once more. “Just go with it.”

Dick’s body reacted immediately, the way his hands moved to your back, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough. You could feel the desperation in him, the way his movements grew more fervent, more insistent, as if the moment had finally overtaken him.

There was something so intoxicating about it—the way he kissed you with such intensity, like every second he spent with you in this confined space only heightened the tension between you. You could feel his body pressing against yours, his every movement a silent invitation, a challenge. His hands, once hesitant, were now roaming freely, touching you with a fervor that made your heart race.

Dick reaches up with one hand to cup your breast, thumbing your nipple through the fabric of your suit, and you let out a guttural moan.

“That’s it, baby, don’t hold back.” You mumbled, your hand grabbing a fistful of his hair, tilting his head up to meet his lips once more.

And don’t hold back he did. His hand fondled with your clothed breast, while the other made its way to the zip on your back.

Dick's gaze lazily makes its way up your form, greedily taking in every inch. He gently bites down on his lower lip, face starting to look flushed as he lets his guard down. Bending forward, you close the distance between your mouths, nipping gently and taking that plush lower lip for yourself. He gasps, but gives as good as he gets, tonguing into you with a little groan. When he tries to take control and deepen the kiss, you smirk and pull back, drawing a pouty little sigh from him.

"Ah ah, birdie—let me do all the work, yeah?" You scold him. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder, his warm breath mixing with yours.

“I’m sorry, I just—” You placed a finger on his lips, clicking your tongue.

“Don’t apologise.” You murmur, lifting his head up as you start to press kisses all over his jawline once again, trailing down to his neck. Dick whines softly at the sudden shift, mewling your name.

He grinds against your clothed cunt, the fabric of your suits making it easier to hurriedly slide against each other.

Dick wishes he could feel how tightly you’d wrap around him instead of this but he needed release now, and this was the quickest way to get it.

But you notice his neediness.

You noticed how much he was aching to be inside of you.

He was bucking into you desperately, moving his hands to grope your tits and roll your nipples between his fingers.

“There you go… Good boy, keep going.” You whisper, your hand trailing down to the hem of his pants, tugging at it.

Dick inhales sharply as he feels your fingers brushing against the waistband of his pants, his hips twitching in anticipation. He's breathing heavily now, chest rising and falling rapidly against yours.

“Ah fuck…” His voice is strained, torn between wanting to give in completely and the lingering hesitation. “I want to... but we should... shit.. but we should be careful.”

You tilt your head at that, your hand resting against his growing arousal, rubbing against it painstakingly slow. “And where’s the fun in that?”

Fuck.

Despite his words, his hips lift slightly, seeking more of your touch. “Please, just... let me...” He swallows hard, hands gripping your waist as he looks up at you with hazy, desire-filled eyes. “...let me make you feel good.” His fingers slip beneath the fabric of your bottom, brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, leaving tingles in their wake.

“Tell me what you want. I'll do anything... anything you want.” His voice is a needy whisper, one you knew you couldn’t resist now.

Your eyes darken with lust as you take in the sight of Dick beneath you, seeing the desperation etched into every line of his body. You can feel the heat radiating off him, the way his heart is pounding against your chest, the tremble of his fingers as they dig into the fabric of your suit.

Slowly, teasingly, you slide your hand lower, palming the growing bulge in his pants. You can feel him, hot and hard, straining against the confines of his costume.

Dick lets out a strangled groan, his hips bucking up into your touch, seeking more friction.

Boldly, you hook your fingers into the waistband of his pants and slowly, torturously, begin to tug them down. The fabric resistive at first, but with a final, sharp tug, you yank them down, exposing his bare skin to the cool air of the room.

Dick's cock springs free, long and cute and perfect, the tip already glistening with precum. It twitches as the air hits it, and you can't help but lick your lips at the sight. You wrap your hand around his shaft, feeling the weight of him, the heat, the way he pulses in your grip.

Dick is panting now, his eyes glazed over with lust as he stares up at you, taking in the sight of you looming over him, his cock in your hand. He looks wrecked, destroyed, completely at your mercy, and it sends a thrill through you, a rush of power and desire.

You stroke him slowly, teasingly, watching as he writhes beneath you, his body arching into your touch. You can feel him leaking more, his cock throbbing in your hand, and you know he won't last much longer at this rate.

So you lean down, your breasts brushing against his chest as you murmur in his ear, your breath hot against his skin. “That's it, baby... just like that. You feel so good... I can't wait to taste you.”

You take your time, stroking him with long, deliberate movements from base to tip. Your hand is soft and warm, encircling his thick shaft completely as you work him over. You can feel every ridge, every vein, the way he throbs and twitches in your grip.

Dick's breath comes in ragged gasps, his chest heaving as he struggles to maintain control. His eyes flutter shut, brows furrowed in concentration, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead. Soft, breathless moans spill from his lips with every upward stroke, the sounds growing louder, more desperate as you continue your ministrations.

As you pick up the pace, pumping him faster, his reactions become more intense. His hips start to lift, meeting your strokes, fucking up into your fist with a desperate hunger. Quiet, strangled moans spill from his lips, each one making your own desire peak in response.

“Fuck... Dickie, you like that, huh? Like how you’re fucking my fist, don’t you? Such a good boy..”

You watch, as Dick’s face contorts with pleasure. His brows furrow, teeth sinking into his lower lip hard enough to leave indentations. The tendons in his neck strain as his head tips back, throat bared to you in a silent offering. His eyes, when they meet yours, are hazy and dark, the blue of his irises nearly swallowed by the black of his pupils.

The wet sounds of your hand moving over his cock fill the small space, obscenely loud in the charged silence. You can feel him leaking more, his precum making your strokes slicker, easier. His cock is red and angry, the head an almost painful shade of pink, the slit weeping with his desire.

You lean down, your breasts brushing against his heaving chest as you bring your mouth to his ear. Your lips brush the shell of it as you whisper, your voice low and heavy with lust. “That's it, baby... doesn't it feel good? Doesn't it feel amazing to have my hand wrapped around this big and needy cock of yours? I can feel how much you want it... how much you want me...”

Dick shudders, his body wracking with sensation as he listens to your words. A broken whimper escapes him, his voice hoarse and wrecked as he manages to gasp out, “F-Fuck… please, (Name)… I need you so bad…”

You never knew how much you needed him begging for you until now. And god did it feel good.

You can feel his desperation, his absolute need for release. And you're going to make him work for it. Slowly, torturously, you increase the speed of your strokes, squeezing just a bit tighter, twisting your wrist on the upstroke.

Dick is panting now, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. His face is flushed, eyes squeezed shut, jaw clenched tight as he tries to hold back. But you can see the way his body is tensing, the way his cock is throbbing harder, leaking more steadily against your palm.

“(Name)... I can't... I'm gonna... fuck, I'm gonna...” His words dissolve into a guttural moan, his entire body going rigid.

You feel his cock throb and twitch in your grip, and then with a hoarse cry of your name, he's coming undone. Thick, hot ropes of cum erupt from his cock, painting your hand and his stomach with his release. His body shudders and jerks through each wave of pleasure, his hand gripping yours like a vice.

You work him through it, stroking him through each aftershock, feeling his cock pulse and twitch against your fingers until finally, he collapses back against the wall, chest heaving, skin sheened with sweat. He looks utterly debauched, hair disheveled, lips kiss-swollen and parted around shallow breaths. His eyes flutter open, hazy and unfocused, struggling to regain some semblance of coherence.

Slowly, you bring your hand up to your mouth, making a show of licking his spend from your fingers, my tongue swirling around each digit, ensuring he can see every last bit of him disappearing between your lips. Dick watches closely, his chest still rising and falling rapidly, a fresh wave of desire washing over his eyes as he takes in the sight of you licking his cum off your hand.

“Mmm, you taste good, Dick,” You purr, wrapping your hand around his re-hardening shaft, giving him a slow, teasing stroke. “I could get used to this view—you, all wrecked and wanting, cock throbbing and ready to go again already.” You lean in closer, your lips brushing against his ear as you whisper, “You really are an overachiever, aren't you?”

You can feel him shiver against you, his hips lifting slightly into your touch. You grin, pulling back to look at him with a wicked gleam in your eyes. Then, slowly, you reach back and unzip the rest of your suit, peeling the tight material down your body until you’re just left in your panties.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband and tug them down, baring your dripping cunt to his hungry gaze.

Dick's eyes widen as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue licking his lips as he stares at your glistening folds. You grab his hand, guiding it between your legs, pressing his fingers against your aching clit. He inhales sharply at the contact, feeling the slick heat of your arousal coating his digits.

“Fuck, (Name).…you're so wet.” He breathes, his fingers starting to move on their own, stroking along your slit, feeling how ready you are for him. “Is this...is this because of me?”

You moan softly, rolling your hips against his hand, seeking more of that delicious friction. “Yes, birdie...it's all for you,” You gasp, your head falling back as his fingers find a particularly sensitive spot. “I'm so fucking turned on right now, and it's all because of you.”

You reach down and grab his wrist, guiding his hand to move faster, to press harder against your clit. You grind against him, coating his fingers in your slick arousal, your body trembling with need. You can feel how hard he is, his cock throbbing and leaking against your ass, and you know he wants you just as badly.

Without warning, you shift your hips, positioning yourself so that the head of his cock brushes against your entrance. You feel him gasp, his fingers pausing in their movements as he realizes what you’re about to do. You look down at him, your expression one of pure, unadulterated lust, and then you sink down.

You take him in inch by delicious inch, your walls stretching around his thick length, wrapping him in your tight, wet heat. You both moan at the sensation, your bodies fitting together like two puzzle pieces, made to be joined like this. You don't stop until you’re fully seated on his lap, his cock buried to the hilt inside your clit, pressing against his pelvis.

“Oh fuck, Dick...” You whimper, your nails digging into his shoulders as you start to move, rolling your hips in a slow, sensual grind. “You feel so fucking good inside me.”

Your words seem to spur him on, and he starts to thrust up to meet you, his hips lifting off the ground to drive his cock deeper into your needy cunt. The room fills with the obscene sound of skin slapping against skin, your moans and cries of pleasure echoing off the metal walls. You can feel him getting closer, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more desperate, and you know he won't last much longer.

“Come on, baby,” You pant, your voice high and breathless as you ride him harder, faster, chasing your own release. “Come inside me. I want to feel you come inside me, Dick. Please...please come for me.”

With a final, harsh thrust, you grind down against Dick. His eyes widen as he feels your walls clench around him, your words pushing him over the edge.

He pistons his hips up harder, his heavy balls slapping against your ass with each punishing thrust. He leans in, burying his face between your breasts, his mask brushing against your skin as he suckles and nips at the soft mounds, leaving marks of possession in his wake.

“Fuck, (Name)...you feel too good,” he pants against your skin, his voice a low, guttural rasp. “So good...”

His words dissolve into a strangled moan as his thrusts become erratic, losing their rhythm as he teeters on the brink of climax. He's so close, his cock pulsing and throbbing inside your clenching walls, your arousal dripping down his shaft with each thrust.

“Ngh— fuck..” he hisses out, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips hard enough to bruise as he holds you down, making sure you take every last drop of his seed. You can feel the hot, thick ropes of his release painting your insides, dripping down onto his lap and the floor below, filling you up just as you'd begged him to do.

You're both panting hard, chests heaving as you come down from your highs. You slump against his chest, completely spent, your body still twitching with the aftershocks. Dick's arms wrap around you, holding you close, his face buried in your hair as he tries to catch his breath.

You can't help but smile, cupping his face in your hands and pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss. You pour all of your satisfaction, all of your desire, all of your growing feelings for him into that kiss. When you finally pull away, you're both smiling, both looking at each other like you can't quite believe this is real.

But then, Dick's eyes widen in realization as the final pulses of his release subside, his softening cock still buried deep inside your fluttering heat. A look of panic flashes across his face beneath the mask as the gravity of what just happened sinks in.

“I...fuck, I'm so sorry,” he starts, voice shaking with remorse. “I didn't mean to... shit, I shouldn't have...”

But you silence him with a searing kiss, your lips crashing against his in a desperate attempt to stem the flow of apologies. You pour every ounce of passion and hunger into the kiss, your tongue delving into his mouth, tangling with his own. For a moment, Dick is stunned, his body stilling beneath you as he allows you to plunder his mouth.

When you finally pull back, your chests heaving, you fix him with a stern look. “Didn't I tell you not to apologise?” you demand, voice low and firm. “I know exactly what I wanted, and I wanted this. I wanted to feel you come inside me, Dick.”

Dick swallows hard, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. “But I didn't use a condom,” he argues weakly. “I could have...we could have...”

You place a finger against his lips, silencing him once more. “Shh. I know the risks. But where’s the fun in not taking them?”

Dick's eyes search yours, a war raging behind those hidden depths. Slowly, hesitantly, he nods, your finger falling away from his lips. “Alright,” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “Fine, you win, Cat.”

A slow, shy smile curves your lips as you lean in to press a soft kiss to his jaw, your body still nestled against his, his release cooling inside you. “Good,” you whisper against his skin. “Because I think we're going to be stuck in here for a while,” you say with a grin, glancing around at the small, enclosed space. “You’re going to have to deal with me a little longer, Robin.”

Dick laughs, a real, genuine sound that makes your heart flutter in your chest, his hands sliding up your back to tangle in your hair. “You're insatiable,” he accuses, but there's no bite to his words, only a grudging sort of awe.

“But I think I can handle that,” he says, pulling you down for another kiss. “Especially if it means more of this.”

You nipped at his earlobe before soothing it with your tongue.

“You're just now figuring that out?”

—

Safe to say, Batman found you both a few hours later, and him and Selina lectured you both about the need for protection. (At least you were on the pill.)

#num num num #merc reblogs :3

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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the cyclone has passed and my house didn’t flood!! yippie🥳

#merc yapsesh

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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body heat

♡ MDNI 18+

♡ Jason Todd x fem!reader

♡ Your boyfriend gets a little too excited when you decide to join him at the gym. Jason Todd: vigilante by night, very personal trainer by day.

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A bead of sweat rolls down his neck to settle in his collarbone. The weight sitting on your shoulders is forgotten as your gaze follows Jason as he sinks down into a low squat. His abdomen tightens, the muscles in his thighs flex and bulge...and then the worst thing happens.

He grunts.

The temperature in the gym is boiling. Fuck, you feel like a pervert, getting flustered over the little noises he makes, desperate to lick the sweat from the back of his neck. You force your eyes away and stare at yourself in the mirror. Cheeks and chest flushed, thighs pressed together in an attempt to silence your arousal. Focus, you tell yourself, gripping the bar. The weights are meager but the distractions make them impossible to lift.

Jason moves behind you. You sink down, fighting the urge to look at him in the mirror, resisting even when he lifts his tank to wipe the sweat from his upper lip with the hem. The flash of skin - the planes of his abdomen, painted with scars - damn it.

Metal clangs against metal as your legs give out. Jason's quick to grab the bar as it smacks onto the safeties and you drop onto your knees. "You okay?" He asks.

"Mhmm." You try to stand, but your legs have been replaced with those of a baby giraffe's and you can't find the strength. Jason grabs you by the elbow and helps you balance.

"You can't be done already." He laughs. "Couple more sets?"

You can't. Physically cannot, not with the fever ravaging your body. "I'm done. I'm going to get changed." You start towards your bag near the mirror. "How much longer are you going to be? I think I'll go across the street and get a coffee."

Jason reracks the bar you dropped, making the weight look like nothing. "Nah, if you're done, I'm done. But hold on. Should stretch before we leave."

Your heart sinks into your core. Fuck.

You try to help pick up the weights, empty your head of all lecherous thoughts before the inevitable. Jason glances around at the other gym-goers. There's a small look of concern on his face.

"Let's go to the yoga room," he says, pointing vaguely with his thumb.

It keeps getting worse.

Duffle bag slung over your shoulder, you follow Jason to the room. It's quiet, empty, the lights soft. A mirror lines one wall. Jason grabs a pair of mats and unrolls them.

"We should do this later," you blurt out.

Jason cocks an eyebrow. "Why? What's wrong?" He narrows his eyes, looks you up and down. "Did you hurt yourself?"

How can he be so oblivious? Standing there in those gym shorts and that tank, tight in all the right places, exposed skin shiny with sweat and hair messed up like he just ran a marathon...or when you run your fingers through it when he's going down on you.

"Wanna go home," you squeak. You swallow. "Just...sore. We can...stretch at home."

He appears mostly convinced, a small smirk on his lips. "It won't take long. Get on your hands and knees."

Oh, so he does know. Bastard.

Your glare stays on the mat between your splayed fingers as you get into position. He moves behind you. "Straighten your legs and lift your butt," he says. "Downward dog. Do it for me."

He knows exactly what he's doing when he runs his hand down your spine. You lift your butt and stretch your arms, hyper aware of how soaked you are, how he's standing right behind you. "You're arching," he says softly. "Straighten your back for me, baby."

"Shouldn't you be stretching?" You snap, fighting instinct to straighten your spine.

"I will." Both his hand run over your lower back, fingers dancing along the ridges of your spine. Goosebumps prickle across your skin in the wake of his touch as he continues down your ass and to the backs of your thighs. A moan nearly escapes your tightly pinched lips as he massages your thighs, fingertips expertly pressing the soreness out of your muscles and soothing them. "That feel good? Just relax for me. Stop being so tense and let me take care of you."

"Jay," you whine through gritted teeth.

He chuckles. "On your back."

You comply, nearly succumbing by parting your legs for him - quickly you reroute and squeeze them together and wait instructions. His hands work the front of your thighs now, pulling a sigh from deep, your eyes fluttering shut.

He lifts one of your and straddles the other to press your knee to your chest. The stretch is spectacular, earning another sigh of relief. Something hard nudges your hip when he leans over you - you know exactly what, and a rush of heat floods your core.

He gives a short laugh. "Shit. Maybe I should've listened to you. Other leg."

He repeats the stretch again, the tip of his semi-erect cock grinding against you now without shame. You open one eye to peek at him above you, but his gaze is focused on your breasts trapped enticingly in your sports bra, the top of them flushed pink with arousal. His throat bobs as he swallows.

There's nobody here. You glance around but can't spot a single camera in the room. What's a little fun? You're both ready to explode - just a quickie.

You grab the lower band of your sports bra and pull it up. Jason's mouth drops open as your breasts pop out, nipples already pert little buds aching for his lips wrapped around them. His gaze jumps up to meet yours.

"You sore there?" He asks.

"Yeah," you reply, breathless.

He cups your breasts and squeezes, shifting again on your leg in a desperate move for friction. Fingertips tweak your nipples, teasing and light.

Jason curses under his breath, mesmerized. He collects spit in his mouth and lets it drip between your breasts before moving to straddle your body, careful to not put his weight on you.

You bite your lip. You know what this is.

He presses your breasts together. "Can I fuck them?"

Your hands are already on the waistband of his shorts, tugging them out of the way to free his cock. It springs loose, thick and throbbing, precum dripping from the tip onto your tits. "Yeah, Jay, I want that." You wet your lips, looking up at him with a blown-out look in your eyes. Any touch is going to break you.

He spits again, wetting his cock. You fix your sports bra to hold your tits together and make a perfect, tight passage for him to play with. Your fingers grip his thighs as he eases his cock in with a groan. The head bumps your neck at full thrust.

Jason sucks air through his teeth as he pumps slowly, fighting to not lose control immediately. He pinches your nipples, pulling and twisting in a way that has your clit throbbing. "Cum on these tits," he whispers. "You're so fucking good. You like it when I fuck your tits?"

You nod, hungry, aching. But your cunt clenches around nothing, your clit throbbing for stimulation, as he ruts faster. "Jason," you whisper, his name wet with neediness.

He stills, groaning, eyes closed and fingers pinching your nipples almost painfully. Precum pools on your throat. He's fighting back his release and remains like that for a moment, ensconsed in your warmth. You rub your thighs together and whine.

"I know." He pulls his cock free, a string of precum trailing from the tip to your breasts, and moves down again. This time he grabs both your legs and presses your knees to your chest before tugging your leggings down your thighs, exposing your cunt to the cool air. The waistband squeezed around your thighs and keeps them tight together for him.

He slicks his fingers through your arousal, brushing over your clit. Your body jerks at the slight touch, so pent up that you're already on the verge of orgasm. Something he doesn't miss. He clicks his tongue. "You should have told me earlier...I would've taken care of you. So wet, I don't even need to prepare you, do I?"

"Oh my god, Jason!" You whine, bouncing your head back on the mat. "Hurry up and fuck me before somebody comes in."

He snorts, rubbing his length against your slit a few times, teasing your clit with the tip. Then finally, finally, he starts to sink inside. You tighten immediately, pussy desperate to suck him in, to not let go. He hugs your legs to his chest, watching as his cock stretches you open until his hips are flush against your ass.

"Fuck." He exhales. "So perfect. What got you so hot anyway?"

You squirm, trying to move enough to stimulate and bring that orgasm you so desperately need. "You, stupid," you say. "You and your...your noises. All sweaty. Jerk."

Jason grins. He presses his thumb on your clit and your entire body reacts, jerking and tensing in pleasured shock. "Yeah? Me too. I couldn't stop watching you. Kept thinking about fucking you out there."

"Fuck me now. Please," you add. "Please, please, Jason."

His hips pull back and snap forward. It sends an earthquake through your system as the head of his cock slams into your cervix. At the same time, his thumb begins working soft, small circles on your clit. Your head empties completely, all thoughts replaced with his cock and his touch, fucking you into a thousand pieces.

His free hand grabs your chin and turns your head towards the mirror. "Look," he pants. "Look at me fucking you. Like that?"

The mirror. There you are, bent in half under him, tits bouncing with the rhythm of his thrusts. You watch the pull and push of his cock as he fucks into you and clench around him. It's loud, the squelch of your pussy, arousal soaking his cock and the front of his shorts, your inner thighs.

His thumb works faster, thrusts quickening. "Need you to cum for me, baby," Jason says, almost completely out of breath. "I'm close. Want to feel you cum on my cock, baby, come on."

Harder, faster, slamming into you as you hold back screams. They escape as harsh breaths and whimpers as the fire in your core reaches a boiling point. "Jason - don't stop, so good - Jay, ohmygodfuck -"

His release hits him first as you tighten at your peak. His pace stutters as the orgasm shudders through his body, cock twitching as he pumps you full - and it's enough, exactly what you need to bring your end. Like a frail rope snapping, your body tenses and your walls clamp down on him, pulsing in orgasm around his throbbing cock. Cum trickles from your slit down your ass, onto his shorts, the mat underneath you.

Jason leans against your legs for support as he searches for air. "Fuck. We...fuck."

You don't know what he's trying to say. You don't care. Exhaustion has completely taken over your body now that you've found satisfaction. An itch sits at the back of your mind - the mess - but you ignore it for the moment.

Jason pulls out of your sensitive cunt, more cum trickling down. He inhales sharply at the sight. "We made a mess."

You groan. "I told you we should've done this at home."

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

a/n: 125 FOLLOWERS. I am stunned. Speechless. Thank you all so much!! ♡♡♡

#num num num

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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DICK GRAYSON IS YOUR COWORKER +18⠀.⠀.⠀.⠀💭

Coworker Dick who flirts with everyone in the office but only wants you. He’s all winks and easy smiles, the golden boy who makes even the most boring meetings bearable—but it’s you he always circles back to. You, who gets the first coffee he picks up in the morning. You, who gets his dumb little notes scribbled onto reports with “you looked good today” in the margins. You, who catches the way his fingers twitch every time you brush past him, like he’s aching to touch you but knows better than to do it where someone else might see.

Coworker Dick who thought he was normal before you. He thought he had a decent work-life balance, that he could function like a regular person. But now? Now he can’t go five minutes without thinking about you. His whole fucking day revolves around you—watching the clock, waiting for lunch breaks, finding any excuse to be near you.

Coworker Dick who jerks off to the thought of you in the office bathroom. It’s pathetic, shameful, but he can’t stop. All it takes is a glance at you—the way your lips part slightly when you’re focused, the way your nails tap against the desk, the scent of your perfume lingering when you walk past him— and he’s hard. So fucking hard, sitting there at his desk, trying to focus on emails when all he can think about is you.

Coworker Dick who sits in a stall, biting his fist, stroking himself fast and desperate, whispering your name. He pictures your thighs wrapped around his head, your hand gripping his hair, your voice telling him how good he is. And when he comes, messy and quick, muffling his groans into his sleeve— he’s already aching for more. Already fixing his tie, washing his hands, stepping back into the office with a flushed face and a new plan to get you alone.

Coworker Dick who turns into such a needy wreck the second you let him have you. One drunken work happy hour is all it takes—his mouth crashing onto yours in a dark booth, hands shaking as they slide under your skirt like he can’t believe this is real. And you let him. You let him drop to his knees right there, between your legs, breathless, whispering, “I’ll be good, I’ll be so good for you.” And when you guide him out of the bar and into a taxi, dragging him home like a stray puppy, he follows without hesitation.

Coworker Dick who doesn’t stop begging once you let him taste you. He eats you out like a man possessed, moaning like he’s the one getting off. Tongue sloppy, needy, greedy, pushing deep while he ruts against the mattress like some depraved thing, whimpering when you tug his hair. “Please—please let me make you come—” He’s gasping between sucks, his perfect lips shiny with spit and slick, shaking when you grind against his face and come all over his tongue. And even then, he doesn’t stop—just licks it all up, fucking obsessed with how you taste.

Coworker Dick who acts like nothing happened the next morning—except now, his texts are filthier. Thinking about you. Miss your taste. Can I see you tonight? Please?

Coworker Dick who can’t keep his hands off you at work. He’s insatiable, desperate for any excuse to touch you. A hand ghosting over your lower back as he leans in to “help” you with some spreadsheet bullshit. A knee pressing between your thighs under the desk during a meeting. Fingers slipping beneath the hem of your skirt just to feel. And when lunch rolls around, when everyone’s busy laughing and chatting in the break room—he’s already pulling you into the nearest bathroom stall, dropping to his knees like it’s a prayer. "Please—fuck, I need it."

Coworker Dick who sobs into your cunt like a fucking starved man. His pretty, flushed face buried between your thighs, licking, sucking, devouring you like it’s the only thing keeping him alive. His tongue flicking your clit fast and messy, lips latching on like he’s kissing your mouth instead of your pussy. His moans vibrating against you, shameless and loud, muffled only by the wet suck of his mouth. And when you yank his hair, grind against his face, drench his chin— he fucking shakes, shuddering through his own untouched orgasm, just from eating you out.

Coworker Dick who follows you home every night now. He doesn’t even ask anymore—just shows up at your door, blue eyes wide, lip bitten, already half-hard in his slacks. And when you let him in, he strips in seconds, sprawling out on your bed, already panting like a bitch in heat.

Coworker Dick who lives to be fucked. "Please, I’ve been good," he whines, voice shaky, presenting himself to you like a gift. And you know what he wants—his favorite strap, thick and black, the one that makes his pretty mouth go slack the second you lube it up. And when you push in, slow at first, letting him adjust—he’s already pushing back, already begging for more. "Harder, please—fuck me harder—"

And you give it to him. You pound him into the mattress, grip firm on his hips, dragging him back onto your strap with every thrust. He’s babbling, voice breaking with high, needy moans, body shaking as he takes it deeper, rougher, harder. His cock is leaking untouched, dripping, twitching, his stomach clenching every time you slam into him just right.

Coworker Dick who loses his fucking mind when you flip him over. You hoist his legs up, pinning him beneath you, thrusting deep while his eyes roll back, mouth open, whimpering like the pretty little plaything he is. His hands scrabble at your arms, his voice breaking when you finally fist his cock, jerking him hard and fast while you wreck him. "Oh God—oh fuck—" He cums so fucking hard, ropes of it splattering his chest, his stomach, his chin, his whole body trembling under you, overstimulated and wrecked.

Coworker Dick who clings to you after. Face flushed, breathing heavy, curling into you, pressing soft, lazy kisses to your skin. You clean him up, stroke his hair, and he just sighs, content, needy, yours.

Coworker Dick who doesn’t care about labels. "I’m not your boyfriend," he says one night, naked in your bed, still marked up from your nails, still bruised from your grip. "I don’t need to be. Just… use me whenever you want." And he means it. Every desperate inch of him.

Coworker Dick who gets jealous. He doesn’t mean to. He knows you’re not dating. But when he sees you laughing a little too much with someone else? When some guy from accounting puts a hand on your shoulder? It drives him fucking crazy. He won’t say anything—not out loud. But suddenly, he’s there. Right at your side. Interrupting conversations, finding reasons to steal you away. “Hey, can I talk to you for a sec?” Hand firm on your wrist, pulling you into an empty hallway, crowding you against the wall.

And when you smirk, when you tease, “Jealous, Grayson?” he groans, pressing against you, rutting his hard cock against your thigh. “What if I am?”

Coworker Dick who tries to be normal but fails. He texts you constantly now. At work: Miss you already. When’s lunch? You looked so fucking hot in that meeting. Couldn’t stop staring. At night: Can I come over? Please? I’ll be good. I’ll do anything.

Coworker Dick who always finds ways to mark you. He doesn’t like seeing you go to work without some reminder of him on your skin. Hickeys on your thighs, bruises on your hips, fingerprints on your waist where he held you too tight. He fucking lives for that shit. "Wear a skirt tomorrow," he murmurs after fucking you stupid, panting against your neck. “Want you thinking about me every time you cross your legs.”

Coworker Dick who wants you to ruin him completely. You can see it in his hungry, desperate eyes every time you push him down onto the bed. Every time you pull his hair, shove him onto his back, climb on top of him and ride him until he’s shaking. "I’ll do anything for you," he whispers against your lips, aching, devoted, lost. And the worst part? He fucking means it.

— MASTERLIST ☆

#merc reblogs :3 #num num num

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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guys might die! I’m in a high risk flood zone – super happy😃

#merc yapsesh

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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I swear people must be removing their ages from their bios cause i just blocked like 50 people. I’m so clear with my rules, in my nav and every fic I post it clearly states “MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI”.

I’m gonna start reporting people as well as blocking them atp. it’s unfair to the adults on this app that there are minors that can’t just stay the fuck away—or at least, not make their presence known.

If I can’t find your age or you are under the age of 18 years old, you will be blocked.

#merc yapsesh

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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CAPT. JOHN PRICE | LT. SIMON ‘GHOST’ RILEY — MINORS | AGELESS DNI

A/N – This actually took me months to finish T-T genuinely couldn’t figure out where to take it, i think i like it… maybe? the ending is kinda shitty

CONTENT WARNINGS – 3way (kinda?), voyeurism, use of: cock | cunt | pup – no aftercare :(

“Atta boy…” Price’s voice was rough, hips rolling up and out of his chair as they thrusted forward; head tilting back as he basked in the feeling of a warm, hot mouth. His hands threaded through blond locks, tugging at the roots harshly.

Simon shuffled on his knees, large brown eyes hidden behind fluttering eyelids - tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, gagging down on his captains thick cock. The younger man rolled his hips, whining as his length strained in his cargos.

The men had been uninterrupted for almost an hour, allowing Price to indulge in his Lieutenant; sing his sweet praises for every inch he took and every minute he kept it down.

“Sir, your signature is required,” Your voice was like music to Price’s ears, watching the way you unexpectedly shuffled into the office—a jumble of files hugged firmly to your chest, eyes filled with the usual warmth.

The smile on your lips never faltered completely unaware of Simon’s position under your superiors desk. Price’s boot moved to press firmly against the blond’s hard-on, a look spreading to his features as your ears perk; honing in on the sound of a deep, muffled whine filling the room.

“Is this a bad time…?” Your voice shook slightly, feet shuffling from side to side as you stare at the captain with wide eyes; cheeks warming at the causality of the situation.

Price shook his head with a scoff, hand flexing into Simon’s hair—tugging roughly at the roots. His chest rose and fell with gentle staggers, lips twitching with the need to make noise, “Never a bad time to have you in my office, love.”

Simon wined lowly, large, glossy eyes staring up at his superior—saliva dripping down his chin, cheeks flushing bright pink from loss of air, “Why don’t you c’mere, yeah? Get a good look at how well he takes it.”

You’d slowly stepped forward eyes darting around the room for any sight of a set up, this couldn’t be real—right?

The older man man reaches raises a brow at your hesitance, shoulders squaring back slightly into his chair before another groan slipped past his lips—hand reach down to place a firm slap to the side of Simon’s face, “Sit and hold, not suck like a desperate slut.”

“Sir… this is– I could lose my job.” Price hummed, firm hand clasping and tugging at his blond’s hair. A sharp, almost shaky exhale passing through his lips—making no move to tuck himself away, “Am I dialling the higher ups, or am I inviting you in.”

It wasn’t even a question, a statement—if anything, the man was calling your bluff. Coaxing you into a false sense of vulnerability, playing with your mind.

This wasn’t real.

Heavy hands found their way to your waist, the action causing you to jump; skin crawling with goosebumps as a gasp passed into the air. Your lashes fluttered, chapped lips skimming across the curve of your neck, “He’s house trained, treats his toys nicely.”

Price spoke from his unmoving position, releasing his hound for some… enrichment—a reward for his good behaviour. The man behind you moved slowly, drinking in the warmth of your body as he pawed at your skin; enjoying the skittishness.

“Little bunny…” His voice was rough, scarred hand slipping down your stomach—fingers grazing your inner thigh as he huffed and puffed against your skin, “So right for the taking… all mine, aren’t ya’?”

Your gulp was practically audible, hesitantly nodding as you held eye contact with the elder man—slowly leaning into his pups touch, papers slipping from your arms. Folders spreading across the carpeted floors, classified documents scattering across the grey.

“What a mess you’ve caused,” Price tsk’d, hand pumping his slick length in an almost bored manner; watching Simon’s hands explore your clothed body. Slowly his hands creeped towards that pretty blue blouse, rough fingers catching against the lace, “Maybe we should teach you some manners, hm?”

Simon smiled against your neck, tongue flickering across the sensitive flesh as he rutted against your ass—hand firmly cupping your cunt, humming at the warmth; the arousal, “C’mon… let me play, bunny.”

Within seconds you were splayed out, chest shoved firmly against the ground—lips parted, drool seeping out of the corner of your lips. Saliva puddling and staining the grey carpet, “Ah– please… m-more!”

The blond practically snarled above you, hips snapping into you at an unforgiving pace—his own whines drowning out yours, fighting for the Captains attention.

“C’mon boy, i’ve seen you fuck your pillow harder than this,” Price’s words only spurred Simon on, his brows pinched in pleasure; gaze barely straying for Price’s as he plowed your cunt, heavy balls slapping deliciously against your clit.

The air was thick with sex, moans bouncing from the walls as you both neared released—Price watching with his own share of appreciate groans, thumb swiping across his leaking tip as he watched your eyes roll and thighs shake.

Your whines picked up in pitch as your cunt sucked Simon in, nails embedding into the long ruined carpet as you came; frothy ring forming around the base of Simon’s cock as it twitched inside of you—thick seed filling you within seconds.

#price x ghost #priceghost x reader #poly 141 #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john price smut #captain price x reader #captain price smut #ghost smut #tf: john price #tf: simon riley

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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i’m like if a writer did not write and did other things instead

#merc reblogs :3

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tfmerc · 2 months ago

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Hi:)!! I love your writing, but just wondering if ya'd do some dick Grayson smut, like with the sex pollen stuff just making him all needy,

Fem reader? Even nb reader o_O?

Like ur real good at writing man^_^.

And I mean if you'd add some of your own kinks? I'd love to see him acting like an lil whiner it's cute in a way, feels so odd to ask lmfao please laugh LMFAO 💔..

pretty bird

Summary: Dick gets hit by a new Poison Ivy pollen, and there's only one way, or rather one person, to get it out of his system.

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ SMUT - sex pollen but explicit consent is given, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, thigh riding, praise/degradation, sub!dick, biting (lmk if i missed any)

Author's note: The fact that this took me over 3 months to finish is embarrassing and I'm sorry and please don't hate me and fuck how I love bottom Dick. I also fear that you can kind of see my kind of worryingly high ao3 screen time in between the lines, because I am not ashamed to admit it that omegaverse is one of man's best creations. Enjoy !!!!! No beta we die like Jason (Todd and/or Grace)

Word count: 2,4k

You wake up with a jolt. Somewhere, a door slams shut, but the noise comes from someplace a lot closer than you'd like when living in Blüdhaven. A string of soft curses float through your apartment, something falls and breaks, and by then you’re sat up atop your mattress, reaching for the knife Dick always insists you keep nearby. It could be him, it probably is, but since when does your acrobat make this much noise when coming back home in the middle of the night?

Dick stumbles through the doorway, one of his hands resting on the wall, seemingly to keep him upright. The lights of the city that bleed in through your bedroom window illuminate his face, and you know instantly that he’s been hit with something, whether that's a gas or some pollen, you’re not sure. His skin is glowing under a sheen of sweat, his cheeks flushed pink. He growls in frustration when a strand of inky black hair falls on his face and he pushes it away with a bit more force than necessary, chest heaving up and down with short and shallow breaths.

You push the blanket off your legs, ready to stand up and walk over to inspect him for any injuries, possibly force him to take a bath with you when a throaty whine makes you stop in your tracks. He shakes his head and you look at him with furrowed brows, tilting your head in confusion.

“Ivy hit us with a.. ah, a pollen. Bruce sent me home right after, but that was before…before the effects showed up.” He rests his head against the doorframe, eyes squeezed shut. He swipes his tongue over his lips, the pink muscle heavy in his mouth which went dry the second he spotted you on that bed, waiting for him.

“What effects, exactly?” You ask him, the little crease of displeasure between your brows that Dick has a habit of soothing over with his thumb making an appearance. You cross your arms on your chest, both to show off your worry and to protect your body from the chill of the bedroom. “Are you in pain?”

As if on cue, another wave of something hits him and he lets his head fall back, his Adam's apple bobbing before he lets out another one of his drawn out whines. The sight of him like that makes something turn inside your gut, a dull ache in between your legs making itself known. “In pain, yes. Just not in the way you might, fuck!..think.” He claws at his Nightwing suit, seemingly desperate to get it off his heated skin and that's when it clicks. Ivy, pollen, not letting you come near him, sweaty and flushed as if…

Dick Grayson is currently standing in the doorway to your room, desperate to get his dick inside you and fuck his brains out.

The sheer absurdity of the situation almost has you barking out a laugh, but it dies down in your throat when a soft plea leaves his lips, now slick with spit, reddish pink from his teeth abusing the soft flesh.

"There isn't an antidote for this. Not yet, anyway. 'N I was wondering if you'd maybe, shit, help me uh, get it out of my system? If you'd want, of course. 'S all good if not, sweetheart. Not really sure it'd be safe for you if I can't really, ngh, control myself."

His eyes stay locked on you, the usually light hues of blue tinted dark as the flush on his skin deepens, the worst of the pollen only starting to take effect. You don't say anything, but instead take a few quick steps towards him and before he has a chance to open his mouth to protest, you cup his cheek with your hand, other one laying flat on his chest. His heart is practically vibrating inside his ribcage from the sheer speed of it beating but that quickly leaves your mind at the absolutely obscene sound that leaves Dicks mouth at the feeling of your skin against his. It's a sob of pure relief mixed with agony because somehow even more blood pools at his groin, making him harder than he has ever been in his life. He turns his head and nuzzles his face into the palm of your hand, his heated lips nipping at your skin like flames of fire.

You coo at him, moving your hand up so you can run your fingers through his hair, now curly from the moisture of his skin. You grab a handful and gently pull his head back, letting your lips leave a trail of open mouthed kisses all over his jaw. His mouth has fallen open, spewing out soft pants and incoherent sounds.

"Wait, wait, baby," he hiccups softly, pulling away from you. "Don't know if m'gonna be able to control myself. Promise me that you'll tell me to stop if it gets too much 'n if I don't listen you'll punch me in the face?"

"Promise, Dickie." You nod, letting your other hand fall down to rest on his waist. You can feel the muscles of his core flex at your touch, and you gently drag the tips of your fingers through the divots of them. His eyes never leave yours and he's looking at you so earnestly, so devotedly it makes you feel sick for a moment. It's as if you are a god, a divine creature who has seized his ability to think, to breathe, and who he needs to guide him, tell him how to do the simplest things in case he even dares to think about doing them in a way you dislike.

You pull him down into a kiss, one slow, sweet and earnest. He has your face cradled in his hands, not daring to let them wonder in case it gets him punished later on. You gently guide him backwards with you, pulling him along by his hip, until the back of your legs meet the edge of the bed, and you fall back on it, pulling him with you. It's as if a switch has been flicked - the once languid and adoring kiss now turned messy, needy, desperate. His mouth is hot as it parts against your lips, tongues brushing against each other in an erotic dance. He tastes sweet, he always has, like honey and mint from the gum he seems to chew at any given moment.

He pulls away to catch his breath but somehow his hands have wandered under your shirt and are now tugging it over your head, throwing it over his shoulder. Your chest is bare in front of him, skin glinting under the light of the night, and he mewls, desperate. He brings his mouth down on your collarbone, leaving open mouthed kisses down until he reaches your breast, and before you can react, his sharp teeth have pressed down into the supple flesh. It hurts, and you keen off the bed with a soft cry.

He slides his tongue over the bite in a soothing manner, pressing a kiss on it as well. Despite the initial pain, by the fifth bite (which has your breasts positively red), your back is arching off the mattress for a different reason, and you're sure that if he'd try to slide your panties off, they'd stick to your cunt in the most obscene way possible.

Your insides are aching by now, desperate to be filled to the brim by his cock. You let him know by tugging on the top half of his Nightwing suit, pulling it over his shoulders. His hair is sticking up in every direction after that and you can't help but giggle, his lips silencing you with a playful kiss. He gets the lower half off by himself and is left just in his boxers, the visible tent in them making you unconsciously part your legs further.

Dick, however, decides that he needs something and he needs it now because another wave of pollen is tugging on his insides and the pain of it makes his stomach cramp up. He starts to slowly rut against your thigh, riding it like he has many times before as a punishment for being bratty. Each movement of his hips has him panting out soft ah! ah! ah! 's and his face is pressed against the crook of your neck, where he's desperately mouthing at the skin, drool soaking it up. You coo at him, masking the degrading terms of endearment under the guise of your sweet tone, but it's still just egging him on, and before he can realise that he's close, he's already come inside his boxers with a high pitched whine. His whole body shakes as the orgasm crashes over him in waves, and his arms give up, making him fall on top of you. You slide your arms over his bare back, pressing small kisses around his hairline.

"You did good, baby. So good for me, aren't you? Gonna fuck me now, pretty bird? Get your cock inside me, fuck yourself stupid 'til all the pollen is gone?"

He keens again, baring his neck to you in an act of submission. His head is fuzzy and he can't really understand what you're saying, but he heard "pretty bird" and "fuck" and suddenly his cock is all hard and leaky again, desperate to be surrounded by something warm and wet and tight. The pollen is making his skin itch unbearably and he needs you to bite him just like he bit you, marking you with pretty shapes and colours. You lean down and do just that, digging your canines right above his pulse point, sucking on the flesh until its angry and purple and so, so pretty, just like the man in front of you.

His body goes seemingly more lax at that, though his hips are still squirming. Somehow, you manage to tug your panties down and off your legs and you slide your fingers into his curls, harshly tugging on them to bring him back to the real world.

"Fuck me, Dickie." You purr, bringing him into a kiss. He can't seem to catch up with your pace, but his instincts speak for themselves, and although the kiss is way sloppier than it should be, all the happy noises he's making makes it worth it.

He cages you between his arms and you help him guide his tip to your opening, clenching around nothing but air. You hadn't noticed when exactly he'd gotten rid of his now soiled boxers but there's nothing exactly to complain about. Your arousal mixed with the cum thats covering the length of him make it easy for him to slide fully inside you with a single thrust, the feeling of so suddenly being filled to the brim punching all the air out of your lungs.

He starts fucking into you like a madman, incoherent whines and pleas and moans spilling from his swollen lips like wildfire. You can't understand anything, but you hold him close, pressing kisses on top of any strip of skin you can reach. "Good, birdie, just like- fuck! that. Fucking me so good, you're the best boy."

You wrap your legs around his, digging your heels into his thick thighs, letting your head fall back in bliss. You can feel a few droplets fall onto your skin and then trail down, and you can't help but giggle e. "Is my pussy so good that it's making you cry, baby? You're so pathetic, Dickie, it's embarrassing. Just look at you."

Your voice is sickly sweet in his ear and he just cries harder, cheeks burning red from embarrassment, but it's as if his body has a mind of its own, continuing to fuck into you like a dog, a dog in heat. He doesn't want to feel stupid and incompetent, and he hates the fact that you're laughing at him, making him feel like he isn't doing a job good enough, but despite your cruel jokes, you're choking on moans of your own, and he also knows by the wet sounds of your cunt that he's fucking you better than anyone ever has and anyone ever will.

He brings one of his hands between your two slick bodies and starts to rub aggressive and tight circles on your clit, eyes locked on you as your face scrunches up, mouth falling apart at the mind numbing pleasure. He knows you better than anyone, so when your muscles start to tense and the pitch of your moans is getting higher and higher, he knows you're close. He picks up the pace of his hips, the sound of skin slapping echoing all around the bedroom. One, two, three snaps and you're coming on his cock with a loud cry, body convulsing painfully. He follows you not even a moment later, coming in the tight heat of your stomach with a loud whine, his whole body shuddering. Despite your vision swimming, you let your hands wander all over his skin, pulling his shaky body to your chest, where you shower him with kisses, touches and soft praises.

"Good, good boy, birdie. You did good, fucked me so good. How are you feeling?"

He just, whines softly on your chest, looking up at you with glassy eyes, blinking owlishly. You pepper his face with tiny kisses until he comes back, and when you feel his nose scrunch up under your lips, you know he's with you once more.

"Talk to me, baby. Are you good? Do we need to go again?" You run your fingers through his hair, letting your nails scratch over his scalp. He leans into your touch and you're pretty sure that if he could, he'd be purring.

"M'okay, I think. At least for now. I feel good, but I can tell that it's not completely gone from my system. Might need to do another round later." His voice is scratchy, and you reach for the water bottle on your bedside table, making him drink half of it. He thanks you with a soft kiss and settles back down on your chest, arms curled around your body.

You can't help but smile at him, heart overflowing with affection. "We should take a shower, pretty bird. You're sticky and I'm sticky, and we could do another round there. That sound good?"

He perks up at the mention of showering together and you laugh, pulling him up with you.

"Come on, then. If you're good then I'll use my mouth on you."

#yall im giggling #makemensubmissiveagain #merc reblogs :3

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