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clementine-writes-things · 16 hours

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"Run Rabbit, Run!" pt.3 - E.N

Summary: Edward is released from Arkham Mental Hospital, having been declared 'sane' and keeps his promise about coming after y/n. (I don't believe he would be let go, but let's pretend m'kay? <3 Also, for this fanfic trilogy, I made it so that the Riddler person is like the embodiment of his anger/darkest desires/hatred etc. So, like an alter ego except Edward is in full control of everything. Ykwim? You'll see lol.)

pt.1 here pt.2 here

Content Warning: 18+ MDNI, explicit language, angst, mental illness and coping with it, Bruce being a good older brother, dom!Edward, egotistical!Edward, megalomaniac!Edward, stalker!Edward, yandere!Edward, Edward being a HUGE perv (just in an extremely sexual way, not weird.), sub!Reader, AFAB!Reader, she/her pronouns, mentions of violence/death, threats, alcohol, fluff, smut, penetration, bloodplay (i dont like it, but it fit Edwards personality in this fic), sadism/masochism, bondage (belt/tape/gag), taking pictures/videos of sex, unprotected sex (wrap b4 u tap pookies), REALLY rough sex (like seriously), choking, hair pulling, slapping, spitting, biting, scratching, daddy kink, daddy issues, degrading, praising, semi-public sex, humiliation, orgasm denial, post sex blues, aftercare.

Word Count: 16k+ (oh gosh, i didn't intend for it to be this long i'm sorry)

Songs for Inspo:

MONTAGEM - PR FUNK - S3BZS

✻H+3+ЯД✻7luCJIo0T6... - vyrval

Princess - Ayesha Erotic, Petey Plastic

LET ME SEE YA MOVE! - Lumi Athena

Thirst For Me! - Lumi Athena

She's So Nice - Pink Guy

Disgusting - Lil Mariko, Zheani

~Read Below Cut~

It had been over a year since Edward was put in Arkham. Y/n tried to distract herself with acts of community service. She even started to visit Bruce more often. Everything sounded better than being alone in her apartment. When she was alone with her thoughts, she ended up going in a dark place. She would blame herself for what happened to Edward, telling herself that she could have done something and stopped it. She could have helped him, but she didn't. Now, none of this was true. Edward made a choice and nothing could change his mind. But, y/n was so distraught by losing her love and her friend that she blamed herself every single day. And on top of that, she was paranoid about Edward showing up. What he said was true, he was still a criminal after all. A mentally unstable one at that. Yes, he was a kind soul to her, but to everyone else he was a menace to society. Y/n feared that he would crack and break into her apartment and hurt her. Because of this, she spent most nights in Wayne Tower, though she didn't like it.

Y/n stumbled out of her childhood room, the walls still painted a soft pink from when her mom had painted it with her. It was nostalgic to stay in it once more, but also melancholic. It reminded her that her parents were no longer with her. But, she was lucky to have Bruce and Alfred still, that much was true. It was actually sort of funny, how cute her room was, surrounded by gothic interior. She remembered how her dad always found it to be humorous.

"Good morning Ms. Wayne, breakfast?" Alfred asked.

"Alfred, please, you've known me for 28 years. I'm pretty sure you can call me y/n." She laughed.

"Right, sorry, it's just been a while since I've seen you." He admitted

"Yeah, well I like living in the city. It's got a sort of gritty charm once you get past the drunks and dropheads." Y/n snorted.

"Sounds...charming." He forced.

"Where's Bruce? In his cave, I suppose?" Y/n asked, grabbing a waffle and eating it plain.

"I believe so. I don't think he's had a wink of sleep. Speaking of, how did you sleep? Is the old bed still as comfy as it was all those years ago?" He asked.

"Surprisingly, yes! Thanks for asking, Alfred. How did you sleep?" She asked, taking a bite of the waffle.

"Quite fine, really. There was a nice drizzle of rain last night, lulled me right to sleep like a baby." He chuckled.

"That's good, heaven knows you need the rest due to watching after Bruce. I know he's the oldest, but I feel like he's the most reckless." She shook her head.

"That is an astute claim, one that I'm inclined to agree with. Why don't you go down and bring him some breakfast? I doubt he'll eat it, but if you tell him to he might. He's missed you terribly, you know."

Y/n took the plate from the table, grabbing the glass of juice with the other hand. Groaning, she resorted to holding the waffle she was eating in her mouth. Giving Alfred a thumbs up, she walked towards the elevator. Using her sock covered foot, she pressed the basement level button. It reminded her of how she used to do the same exact thing as a young kid, but with her nose. She was a strange kid for sure, it was a miracle she didn't get sick all the time. Y/n, alone in thought for a little bit, though about Edward instantly. She missed him a lot, and she wasn't ashamed to admit that. Bruce knew that y/n loved Edward, but she never told him about what went on in that visitation room. No way. Instead, she told him that her and Edward agreed that they would try and move on from each other. But, Bruce was smarter than that. He knew that y/n still loved Edward, it was so obvious to see. It was a little jarring to know that his 'rival' was the person his sister was in love with, but he tried to be understanding. After all, she never knew until it was too late really. And, in all honesty, it did seem like he treated y/n well when they were friends. Bruce hoped that Edward would get the therapy he needed and would be released, that way his sister could be with the man he loved again. Yes, he murdered people, but it's not like he killed any innocent people. Murder is still bad, of course, but at least he killed the weeds in the garden instead of the flowers. The doors of the elevator opened. Y/n walked out and saw Bruce standing in front of the computer screens, looking pale and like death itself.

"H-" When y/n opened her mouth to talk, her waffle fell out of her mouth.

"FUCK!" She screamed.

Bruce flinched, grabbing a 'bat-a-rang' next to him and holding it up. When he saw y/n, he rolled his eyes and placed it back down, hand on his chest. Her scream scared the shit out of him, nearly giving him a heart attack.

"Sorry! I...I dropped my waffle..." She frowned, placing his plate and glass on the table.

"How did you drop it?" He asked, looking at his food.

"I tried to call you a cumstain but I forgot I had a waffle in my mouth." She huffed.

"Oh, that's charming, it's good to see you too." He shook his head.

"Yeah, it's good to see you. Look, you've been up all night, eat some breakfast, ok?" She sighed.

"I'm really not hungry." He answered simply, looking back to the screen.

"Bruce..."

He looked back to her, sighed. Glancing back down to the food, he did feel his stomach rumble slightly. Opening his mouth, he went to say something but just scoffed.

"Alright, fine. But, we're hanging out today if I eat." He said.

"Ok, that works with me. But, I get to pick what to do!"

"There's always a catch with you, isn't there?" He chuckled, taking a bite of some bacon.

"Always. You know this. Anyways, I'm thinking we go to a club!"

He hummed in amusement, taking a sip of the orange juice. Placing it back down, he swallowed it.

"A club? Really? You?"

"What!? I party!" She scoffed.

"Alright party animal, but are you sure it's safe for us to go to a club? I mean, we are Waynes. I don't doubt there are a few people who would love to get a chance to do something fucked up to us, especially you."

"We'll go to a spot I frequent! And, we just won't drink. I usually don't drink anyways." She shrugged.

"Ok then, when do you wanna go?" He asked, eating another piece of bacon.

"Well, tonight of course. I think afterwards I might go back to my apartment. I kind of miss it." She sighed.

Bruce frowned, but he understood. He just didn't think it was smart for y/n to be alone.

"Ok, but you're always welcome back here. I miss hanging out with you." He smiled.

"I know, Bruce. Don't worry, I'll come back soon. I just want to stay at my apartment for a week or so. Now, eat your breakfast!" She ordered.

"My mouth is only so big, ok?"

"That's what she said! Now go! Double time, go, go, go! Eat that bacon! Eat that bacon!" She cheered.

Bruce looked at her with a piece of bacon hanging from his mouth. His eyes were narrowed, bags underneath them. Slowly, he reached his hand out and put it over her face. With a push, he shoved her back lightly, causing her to stumble. She squealed, gasping dramatically.

"Oh I'm gonna kick your ass little man!" She huffed.

Groaning, he reached out his hand and covered her face with it again. She swung her arms everywhere, flailing aimlessly. He held her there and continued to eat his breakfast casually. The sound of the elevator dinged, but the siblings were too caught up in their 'intense fight'. Alfred stepped out, watching the scene before him.

"My, my, what happened here?" He asked amusedly.

"Alfreddddd! He pushed me!" Y/n whined.

"Master Bruce! Is this true?" He asked.

"Well, yeah, but she started it. She was being weird..." He mumbled in between bites of bacon.

Y/n continued to swat at the air, moving around every now and then to get a better angle. But, every time she moved, his hand followed her in suite. She tried to bite his hand, but it was just far enough from her mouth that she couldn't reach. Alfred sighed, a smile spreading over his face.

"You dress like a bat! What's weirder than that!?" She counteracted.

"W- It's armor that looks like a bat because it's ominous! Batman stands for vengeance!" He scoffed.

"Batman? More like Twatman!" She snickered.

Bruce's eyes widened, turning slowly to look at her. She stopped swinging, backing away slowly. He put down the piece of toast he was about to eat and stood up from his chair. Y/n looked at Alfred for help, to which he just shrugged playfully.

"Brucey my man, my brother, my compadre! It was a little joke, a goof if you will! A simple guffaw!"

He quickly grabbed a handful of bolts from on top of his toolbox and lunged towards y/n. She screamed bloody murder, running away from him. Bruce chased her down, tossing the bolts at her, making clinking noises as they hit the ground. The two siblings, both adults keep in mind, ran around the basement yelling and cursing at each other.

"ALFRED! HE'S THROWING BOLTS AT ME! STOP HIM!"

"CALL ME TWATMAN AGAIN!" Bruce threatened, nearly tripping over his feet.

"ALFRED HELP!"

"I'm afraid I can't help you, y/n. Master Bruce seems very passionate and I'd hate to interfere." He said.

"FUCK YOU ALFRED OH MY GOD! BRUCE STOP!" Y/n cried.

"Language, Mistress Y/n."

"I'M GONNA RIP THE FUCKING HEADS OFF YOUR BARBIES Y/N I SWEAR TO GOD!"

"WHAT THE FUCK YOU'RE INSANE! DON'T TOUCH THEM! I HAVEN'T PLAYED WITH THEM IN YEARS, THEY PROBABLY MISSED ME!"

Alfred chuckled, watching the two run around. Bruce was still throwing bolts at y/n. She was running away from him screaming for her life. He sighed.

"Just like old times."

That night, the two siblings did exactly as they said they would. Y/n gave Bruce directions to the club, and they both went inside. Everyone in the club was happy to see y/n, she did not lie, she was a regular there. However, they were shocked to see Bruce. Who could blame them? He never left Wayne Tower. It was amusing to see the difference in personalities between the two Wayne's. Y/n was as bubbly and friendly as could be, while Bruce was quiet and reserved. However, they quickly became the life of the party.

"Y/n you're fucking stupid! Get down from there!" Bruce scolded.

Even though y/n had said she wouldn't drink, she did. Bruce had one cocktail, but y/n was 3 drinks deep. And he knew that she could not hold her alcohol well at all. Currently, she was standing on top of the bar counter, wearing heels. She looked down at Bruce, blowing a raspberry at him.

"NO! I'M D-DANCING!" She hiccupped.

"Oh that's really mature! I'm so glad to see you've grown past the raspberries!" He shouted at her above the music.

People surrounded the bar, laughing along with y/n. She truly was a frequent goer here, as it appeared to be normal to the people there. But, Bruce was still worried about her safety, so he repeated himself.

"Get down! You're going to fall and hurt yourself! I'm serious!" He said.

"W-Whatev-"

Just like he said, she slipped and fell on her butt on the bar counter. Drunk as hell, she burst out laughing. But the laughter slowly faded into drunken cries.

"W-Why did you let me do th-that!" She whined.

He just stared at her, amused and annoyed all at once. But, he could see that she was sad, and he had an idea as to why. Sighing, he helped her off of the counter, apologizing to the bartender. Everyone seemed fine with it though, which he was grateful for.

"Alright, I think it's time to take you home sis." He said softly.

"B-But, I wan' keep partying! The people are crying my name out! They want an encore~!" She giggled.

Bruce wanted to laugh because no one was even paying attention to her anymore. No one was calling out her name. She was so shit faced, but luckily, she was easy to sober up. He had learned from past experiences at parties with her. It was funny, she was horrible at holding her alcohol yet she could sober up within an hour after drinking. She was a strange girl for sure.

"Well, we're all taking the party back to your apartment!" He said, faking a cheerful tone.

"What! B-But, I haven't cleaned up!" She frowned.

"Yes you did, you just can't remember." He said.

"Oh! Ok! L-Let's go!"

Bruce waved goodbye to the other partygoers, leading y/n out of the club. Little to both of their knowledge that someone was following them. Watching them. The cold air sent a chill down y/n's spine as they walked outside. Her brother led her to his car, helping her get in. But, she quickly bolted out and hunched over the side of the building. Bruce winced as she puked, feeling bad for even letting her drink. Her throat was going to hurt like hell in the morning after that. He wasn't so worried about her having a hangover, as she didn't usually get them. Again, it was so odd that she could get sober easily, not have hangovers, and yet not hold her alcohol. It was truly strange to him.

"Ok, ok, that's it. Let it out." He cooed, walking over and holding her hair back.

Y/n choked out a sob.

"I-I miss him so m-much, Brucey..." She wailed before puking again.

He sighed, ignoring the weird looks he got from people walking by. Instead, he patted her back, comforting her through her sickness. His heart hurt for her.

"I know you do, sis. I know."

"W-What if I n-never see him again? W-What if he doesn't get be-better? I l-love him so m-much..."

She dry heaved, making him cringe. The smell was awful, but he did his best to overlook it and focus on cheering her up. The cold air was hopefully helping her sober up, maybe then she would stop crying, as it was only making her throat hurt more.

"Don't think like that, y/n. You need to stay positive. If he really does love you, he'll do his best to get better. I bet he's thinking about you right now, doing whatever he can to get to see you again." He mumbled softly.

"Y-You think so?"

Upbeat music blared from the club they left, causing y/n to bob her head to the rhythm. Bruce watched in slight amusement, helping her gain her balance as she stood back up. A dribble of vomit stuck to her chin. He pulled out a handkerchief he carried around, wiping it away and putting it back in his pocket. He didn't really care about the smell or anything, he'd just wash his clothes when he got home.

"I do."

Bruce led her to the car again, helping her get in. A rustle was heard behind him, making him whip his head around. He didn't see anything, but he felt on edge. The music got louder in the club and y/n drunkenly giggled, clapping her hands.

"THE VENGABOYS?! I H-HAVEN'T HEARD THEM IN F-FOREVER! BRUCEY! IT'S THE VEN-VENGA- THE VENGABOYS!" She cheered.

"Oh Christ, that band? Weren't you like obsessed with their music as a teenager?" He asked.

"YESSSSS!"

"Ok, ok, shhhh! Use your inside voice."

"BUT WE'RE OUTSIDE!" She yelled.

"Um, use your inside a car voice?" He asked.

"Oh, ok!"

He rolled his eyes, getting in the car. Paranoid, he did one final check around. The noise he heard really made him uneasy. Sighing, he started the car and drove to y/n's apartment complex.

"Ok, can I have your key?" He asked.

Y/n handed him her keys. The lanyard it was attached to had Sanrio characters all over it. Bruce chuckled, realizing it was the same one from their childhood. It was neat that she still had it. Fumbling with the keys, he managed to finally unlock the door and open it up. Y/n ran into the apartment, not entirely sure where she was running to. Bruce rolled his eyes as she face planted on the couch, closing the apartment door behind him. He felt cold, looking around the apartment. His eyes landed on an open window, making his eyes widen.

"Y/n, you can't leave your windows open when you leave!" He scolded.

"B-But, how else will the stray kitties get in?" She pouted.

"Oh my fucki-, I can't with you right now." Bruce groaned, closing the window.

"Whatttt?" Y/n slurred.

"If you leave your windows open, who knows what kind of sickos could get in? It's not safe, sis. Promise me you won't leave them open when you're not home, ok?" He asked.

"F-Fine, you're right..."

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. Walking into the kitchen, he opened up her medicine cabinet. Y/n groaned dramatically as he fished out two Tylenol pills. He placed them on the counter before grabbing a glass from another cabinet. Bruce yawned, pouring some juice in it, because God forbid y/n had to take medicine with water. She hated that ever since she was a kid, she said she could practically taste the medicine if she took it with water. He opened up the fridge, making sure that she had enough food for another week. He knew that she could take care of herself, but he was still her brother. No matter what, he was always going to look after her. Satisfied, he closed the fridge.

"Alright, take these tonight, ok? Make sure you take a cold shower as well, it'll help you sober up. Are you going to be ok alone?" He asked softly.

"Y-Yeah, I'll be ok, thanks B-Brucey." She hiccupped.

He walked over, seeing how drunkenly she laid on the couch. Sighing, he placed her lanyard that he still had on the coffee table. She wasn't asleep, just wanted to lie down. Bruce walked towards the front door, stopping when y/n called for him.

"B-Bruceeeee!"

"What is it?" He asked.

"C-Can you..." She pointed at the T.V.

"Oh Jesus, really? You've watched that show thousands of times, aren't you going to get tired of it?" He scoffed.

"Never! Now, put it on!" Y/n ordered, sitting up lazily.

"Fine." Bruce groaned.

He walked over to the T.V, bending over and grabbing a C.D from a small cabinet. Y/n had brought a lot of C.D's from Wayne Tower to her apartment, as it was a comfort to her. She would watch movies that her parents, Bruce, and her used to watch, Alfred as well. There were also entire box sets of shows that she owned. And, a show that she watched a lot and never seemed to get tired of was: Breaking Bad. It was hilarious, actually. Bruce had watched it first, and y/n would sneak looks behind his back. Eventually, they watched the entire show together. Y/n got more obsessed with it than Bruce did. He remembered very vividly about her 18th birthday party and how it was Breaking Bad themed, a picture of Jesse Pinkman on her cake. It was strange, but surprisingly a fun party.

"Ok, which season?" He asked.

"Season 4!"

"Good choice."

He put the C.D in, pressing play on the first episode and giving it to y/n. Smiling, he ruffled up her hair and walked back to the door. Bruce waved to his sister.

"Good night, y/n. I'll call you when I get home. I want to make sure you're ok." He said.

"Ok, I'll keep my ri-ringer on, I looooove you Bruceyyyy!" She slurred.

"I love you too, sis."

The door closed, y/n groaning as she got up. She knew that she had to lock the door, but she was still irritated that it required her to get up. Once she made sure it was secure, she walked into the kitchen. Wincing, she took the two pills Bruce had laid out for her. She looked like a mess, honestly. Her thin strap dress ended at her mid thigh, the silver material glimmering in the dim light of her kitchen. Her makeup still looked good though, puppy liner, natural toned eyeshadow with glitter in the corner of her eyes, blush on her cheeks and nose like always, and glossy lips. Although, the gloss had been rubbed off from her vomit from earlier. That reminded her, she needed to brush her teeth, as her breath smelled terrible. Hurriedly, she tossed off her heels, forgetting she had them on. Y/n tossed them to the side, discarding them by the edge of the sofa. She went into the bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush, putting toothpaste on it and brushing her teeth. She peeked out, looking at the T.V as she continued to wash away the vomit breath she had. Jesse Pinkman came on screen, and y/n drunkenly cheered, toothpaste dribbling down her chin.

"Shit!"

She spat into the sink, rinsing out her mouth. Cleaning the toothbrush, she placed it back in the container. With the back of her hand, she wiped away the toothpaste from her chin. She came back outside, too tired to even take a shower, she didn't need one that bad. Because she was walking around and actively doing things, she could already feel herself sobering up. It was good. Humming, she sat back down and watched the show. But, out of nowhere, she remembered something that Edward had said during their visit. All of her drunkenness left her body, becoming extremely aware. He could be in the dark corners of her room. He could be watching her right now. It sent shivers down her spine. Swallowing thickly, she looked around the room. From what she could see, there was nothing there. But, she had a sneaking suspicion. Carefully, she stood up. Turning her back to the T.V, she looked out of her window. She looked across at Edward's old apartment, feeling fearful. Her eyes widened as she felt someone's presence behind her.

"I've found you, rabbit."

Before she could do anything, Edward had wrapped his arm around her waist. His other hand went to her neck, gripping the front of it firmly. She could still breathe, but the shock caused her to gasp. He wore gloves, the fabric feeling crude against her skin. Edward hummed in her ear, muffled slightly.

"Now, you won't scream if I let you go, will you?"

She shook her head.

"That's my girl." Edward released her from his grip.

Y/n turned around, looking at him with wide eyes. Heat pooled in her stomach as she saw what he looked like. It had been over a year since she had last seen him, and yet it felt like she had been aroused the entire time. Desperately waiting for him to come back to her. He was in his 'Riddler' attire. Y/n had never seen him in it in person, but oh, he looked so good in it. She felt dirty for thinking that, but it was true. Edward took in her shocked state, smiling sickeningly under his mask as he reached out and brushed hair out of her face.

"W-What are you...why are you...how...?" She panted.

"I've been released from Arkham, isn't that obvious? I was going to escape, but I figured I'd get 'better', for you."

"Get better? Edward, you're dressed like the Riddler." She scoffed.

"Yes, that's because I faked it, y/n. Those doctors are so ignorant. Do I look better to you?" He asked sarcastically, leaning in to her face.

Y/n looked into his wide eyes, they made her feel threatened. Pupils glimmered behind his glasses, glazed with insanity and lust. She felt like she was in danger, but that could probably be because of his attire. Again, she had never seen him dressed like The Riddler, and it was more terrifying than she could ever imagine. He had a roll of duct tape hooked to a utility belt on his waist, along with a knife and a rag. She hoped that they weren't intended for her, and yet she did at the same time.

"N-No, you don't." She said.

"Oh, I can see the fear in your eyes, rabbit. You're so afraid of me, yet so delighted to see me. You've missed me so terribly, haven't you?" He hummed.

God, there he went again. He made her feel so small once again. Just like a year ago, she was putty in his hands. She was so pathetic. It was embarrassing.

"Y-Yes..."

"I know. I've been watching you alllll day, rabbit. I heard what you said to Bruce outside of that club. You love me still. You miss me. You want to see me again." He chuckled, stepping closer to her.

"Of course you were stalking me, I- did you get in through the window?" She asked.

He ignored the question, as the answer was obvious. Instead he looked her up and down, taking in her appearance. Scoffing, he slid his finger under a strap of her dress, letting it snap back against her skin. She flinched, every movement he made making her nervous.

"I'm gone for a year and you're putting yourself in harms way? Getting drunk around strangers, leaving windows open in your apartment, I'm disappointed, y/n. Extremely disappointed." He scolded.

"I-, I'm sorry..." She frowned.

"Have you been with anyone else, hm? Have you let someone's lips touch yours before mine?"

She shook her head frantically.

"No! I-I couldn't get you out of my head. I didn't want anyone else, Eddie." Y/n admitted.

He smiled behind the mask, happy that she hadn't moved on. As he looked at her facial features more, as he was admiring her makeup, he noticed how sad she looked. He tutted, stepping forward and pulling her into a hug. As soon as he did it, y/n broke down into tears, hugging him tightly. Edward came here to ravish her, intending on keeping his promise from a year ago, but he could see that she needed a little bit of gentle love first. So, he repressed his animalistic urge and brought out his nurturing side. As she cried into his chest, he removed his mask, tossing it on the couch. He cursed himself for wearing the cling wrap, ripping it off and shoving it in his pocket carelessly. Planting a kiss on the top of her head, he let her cry.

"I-I m-missed you so much. I know i-it's bad, but I f-felt so lost without you." She sobbed.

"Oh I know, rabbit. I missed you too." He cooed.

"I-I had no one to watch movies w-with me. N-No one to feel safe with. N-No one to hug. N-Not like I did with y-you daddy..."

Edward squinted his eyes shut. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, and he missed it dearly. Swallowing his lust, he continued to stroke her hair. He wasn't sure how long he could restrain himself.

"But I'm here now, rabbit. I'll never leave you again, ok?"

"P-Promise!"

"I promise."

Y/n sniffled, pulling away from the hug. She wiped away the tears on her cheek, lucky that she was wearing water proof mascara. Edward smiled at her, she did the same as she finally saw his face since he removed the mask. He looked just as good as he did that last time he saw him, though, he looked a little more skinny. That was most likely due to living in a hospital for a year.

"There's the smile I love so much. You feeling better, rabbit?" He asked softly.

"Yeah, I am. J-Just lots of emotions, I guess." Y/n sighed.

"That's good. Now, look at me."

She looked up into his eyes.

"Do you know why I'm here, rabbit?"

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows, not sure what he was referring to. He was here to see her, obviously. Right? She stood still, thinking about why he could be in her apartment. He watched her carefully, smirking as he saw the realization in her eyes. She wasn't scared about the realization, more so caught off guard and anxious.

"Oh, fuck..."

He laughed, nodding his head.

"Oh, fuck indeed!" He mocked.

He watched as she backed up slightly. Again, not because she didn't want it. It was because she was trembling in anticipation. She was anxious for what was going to happen, it excited her and scared her. It was an intoxicating feeling. He reached down and grabbed the roll of duct tape from off of his belt. Sighing, he held it in his hand, pointing it at her.

"You see, I thought about this a lot in Arkham. What I would do to you. Oh, so many twisted fantasies crossed my mind, but none of them really..."

He pulled the duct tape out, ripping a piece off. The harshness of his movements made her jump. Edward chuckled darkly.

"...jumped at me! But then, I thought a little more about it. Although I faked being 'sane', I do want to be a better man for you. Call me sentimental, but my love for you has a hold over my cold heart." He hummed.

Y/n nodded, listening to what he was saying. Edward looked at the piece of duct tape he ripped, shaking his head. He didn't think it was long enough for what he was planning. Crumpling it up into a ball, he threw it behind him.

"So, I thought, you know what would be better therapy than what I got in the hospital?"

Y/n shook her head, curious.

"A good fuck. No, a godly fuck. A fuck so passionate and depraved that words would never be able to describe it!" He explained, slowly getting closer to her.

He took y/n's silence as a signal to continue.

"The 'Riddler' persona, what drives it is my desire for power and recognition. When I get in it, I just want to...destroy someone. I believe that if I..."

He grabbed her neck tightly, gloved fingers digging into her skin. She whimpered, instinctively holding his hand. Edward's eyes were wide as he looked down at her, a twisted smile on his face.

"...take those desires out on you, maybe it'll suppress those urges for a while. Think of it like a shot you get every few months or so. It hurts so bad, but it makes you feel so much better afterwards." He explained crudely.

"E-Edward...I-I, fuck, this is all so sudden..."

"I told you that when I got out I would be coming for you. I told you what I was going to do to you, y/n. You knew this day was coming, and from what I remember, you wanted it to happen as soon as possible." He whispered in her ear.

"Well, yeah I did. B-But, I can't just jump right into sex...it's not easy for girls to do that." She said.

Edward looked at her like she was explaining simple addition to him. He knew what foreplay was. He knew how to get her ready for sex. Even though he hadn't fucked her before, he was still pretty skilled at making her wet. He was skilled at making her desperate.

"You think I don't know that, y/n? I'm not a fucking idiot. Who said I was going to bend you over and fuck you right now?" He raised an eyebrow, hand still around her throat.

"S-Sorry, you're right. I-I'm just nervous...you're really, um, intimidating me right now..." She mumbled shyly.

"Oh, I can tell rabbit. I can feel your pulse against my hand." He hummed.

"C-Can we make a s-safeword like you said during our visit?" She asked.

"If it will make you feel more comfortable, of course. What about..." He looked at her eyes, seeing the sparkles in the corners of them.

"...glitter?"

"That works, yeah." She smiled.

"You look so good, y/n. I missed your pretty little face so much." He sighed happily.

She blushed.

"I-I'm not really sure how to start..." She admitted.

"Oh, I know exactly how. I've been dreaming about this day for over a year, rabbit. All you need to do is relax and let me do the work. Well, unless I tell you to do something of course." He smirked.

He looked at her for a second, waiting for her to give him a signal to start. Once she did, he used his free hand to cup her face. His lips pressed against hers, moving in a gentle dance. Y/n couldn't help but melt into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck. He slid his tongue into her mouth, pulling away and leaving sloppy kisses on her jaw line. Saliva was already smeared across her lower lip. Edward looked down at her, the T.V show still playing in the background as he hoisted her up, legs wrapping around his waist. Y/n gasped as he brought her over to the 'L' shaped couch, dropping her on the long part of it. He did this so he could climb on top of her, straddling her hips and pinning her down. Because of how clumsily he placed her down, her dress had pulled down slightly, exposing the tops of her breasts. Edward realized she had no bra on and he groaned, dick twitching in his pants. He gripped the sides of the couch, taking a deep breath

"You're ok with this, right? I don't want you to think I'm forcing you to do this. It's ok if you don't want to." He said, looking down at her.

She didn't respond, only whined as she bucked her hips upward. Edward groaned again. The action was hot, but it was not an answer. He wanted a verbal answer from her. Reaching down, he gripped her chin roughly.

"Use your words." He ordered.

"I want this, daddy." She whispered softly.

"Fuck, call me that again." Edward said, running his thumb over her lips.

"Daddy..."

Edward couldn't wait any longer. He had been waiting over a year for this moment. He quickly removed the jacket he had on, tossing it haphazardly across the room. He was left in a dark green, almost black, tank top and the pants he was wearing as well. The sight of him in a tank top, arms shown off and accentuating his pecs, it just made her melt. Her thighs squeezed together, but Edward reached down and placed his hands between them. Tutting, he slid off the couch, kneeling down and pulling y/n closer towards him.

"Fuck, ok. Here's how this is going to go. This is the last time I'm going to ask you if this is ok. If you say yes, I'm going to just...fuck...I'm not going to stop unless you say the safeword. Do you understand?"

"Y-Yes, I understand. Please, Eddie, I w-want you..." She whined.

Letting out a shaky breath, he lifted up y/n's dress and bunched it around her waist. But, he scoffed, instead he removed it entirely from her body and tossed it away. Her chest was on full display and he felt his pants getting tighter and tighter by the second. He stood up, roughly grabbing one of her breasts. Her back arched and he admired the sight. But, he changed his demeanor quick, pinching her nipple harshly, twisting it. She yelped, sitting up and glaring at him. Edward grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her closer to his face.

"That's for being fucking stupid and getting wasted in the Narrows." He spat, pushing her back on the couch.

"I-"

"Don't you ever do something like that again, I don't give a shit if you were with your brother. Got it?" He scolded.

"Y-Yes, daddy I won't do it again. I promise!" She whined.

Grunting, he lifted her legs up and rested them on his shoulders. He shivered at the sight before him. Y/n's panties were completely soaked through. It should be no surprise to him though, as he was able to make her wet with a snap of his fingers. He buried his face in between her legs without warning, inhaling her scent deeply. It was so vulgar and strange, but it made y/n moan. Edward was like a kid who was playing with their new toy on Christmas. Except, in this case, he was finally getting to break and use the woman he had been stalking for months, in love with for many months after that, and thinking about for a year. It was a dream come true for him and he wanted to enjoy every single moment. He was in charge and he was going to enjoy that power.

"Fuuuuck, you smell so sweet. I bet you taste even sweeter." He mumbled.

Edward planted a soft kiss against her clothed heat, making her buck her hips. He did not hesitate to slap her thigh harshly, signaling for her to quit. It was sharp and left a red mark on her skin. He continued to kiss her, slowly licking a stripe up the fabric. Y/n whimpered and shivered underneath him, filled to the brim with lust and anticipation. A burning sensation shot up her hips, startled by Edward ripped the fabric off of her. She scoffed, her legs burning slightly.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" She exclaimed, exasperated.

He looked up at her from between her legs, not yet looking between her legs. His eyes were dark and heavy, they were always like that though. It was hot as hell. Edward said nothing as he looked at her from between her legs. The silence made her extremely unnerved, feeling his gaze pierce her soul. What made it even more ominous, is that his face was completely neutral. He did not look mad, angry, frustrated, anything. He simply just looked at her. That was all it took for her to shut up and apologize meekly. But, he continued to look at her for a little while longer, making sure that she knew he didn't approve of her language towards him. Sighing, he looked down between her legs. It was his first time ever seeing her like this. Even though he had stalked her and watched her before, he never violated her in any inappropriate way. It was his first time seeing her naked body. He was so mesmerized by the sight, taking his time observing it. Humming to himself in delight, he used his thumbs to spread her open. She was absolutely soaked, dripping on his fingers as he poked and prodded at her like a science experiment. Now, he knew that he didn't need to eat her out. If he really wanted to, he could get a quick fuck, cum, and leave her helpless. But, he wasn't an asshole. He was so hopelessly in love with her. Yes, he could focus on his pleasure, but that wouldn't be fun at all. If he just focused on himself, then he wouldn't be able to make her squirm underneath him. He wouldn't be able to make her beg for him. He wouldn't be able to make her squirt all over his fingers, in his mouth, and on his dick. And if he couldn't do that, then what was even the point? He was going to make her orgasm so many times that she'd look like her soul had been drained from her body. A groan left his throat, but his arousal made it sound like a growl. His hands gripped her thighs tightly, still resting on his shoulders. He leaned down and pressed his lips against her dripping center. A pathetic whine left y/n's throat. A ring echoed throughout the room, making both of them jump slightly. But Edward ignored it and continued to sloppily kiss and tongue her clit. Y/n had reached over, grabbing her phone from off the couch. She groaned.

"I-It's Bruce, E-Eddie." She whined.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he slightly flicked his hand at her. Y/n took that as a 'Answer it' motion. She shook her head, biting down on her lip.

"B-But, you have to stop i-if I do!"

Edward kept his lips against her skin, snapping his fingers and pointing at her.

"Pick it up." He grumbled, voice muffled against her.

Y/n silently cursed Edward out in her head. If she said any of it out loud, he might pinch her again. Taking a deep breath, she tried to gain composure of herself before answering the call. Y/n put the phone on speaker, knowing Edward would want to hear.

"Hey Brucey!"

Edward circled his tongue around her clit. His lips came together, sucking on the sensitive nub. Y/n covered her mouth with one of her hands, legs squeezing around his head between her legs. A quiet chuckle left his throat as he watched her struggle.

"Hey, just got home. I wanted to call you and make sure you're doing ok." He said.

He slowed his onslaught on her pussy, letting her answer. Edward didn't want her to get caught. Instead, he wanted her to think that she might get caught. It was a fun little game.

"Yeah, I-I'm ok. I took the medicine you put out for me. I'm..."

She looked down at Edward.

"...pretty sobered up now." She squinted her eyes shut.

"That's good. Hey, um, I just found out that Edward was released from Arkham today. Did you know that? Apparently it was earlier this morning." He said.

She looked down at Edward, wondering if she should tell her brother that he was at her house. Edward could tell what she was thinking. He thought about it, not seeing any harm in it. After all, he had been released legally, even though he sort of cheated the system. As long as he didn't know about what he was doing to his sister, nothing was wrong with telling him. He nodded at y/n, shoving his tongue inside of her and sucking on her skin softly.

"Um, yeah. Shortly after you left he came over. He's here right now actually." She said.

"He is? A-Are you...are you safe?" He asked.

Edward scoffed, squeezing her thighs in frustration. How absurd Bruce was for thinking he could ever hurt y/n with intent of malice. That was impossible. He would never cause harm to y/n. Not without her wanting it of course...

"Yes, Bruce I'm safe. He's not going to hurt me. He's actually trying to be a better person, in his own way..." She trailed, looking down at him.

It was true, he was.

"Well, that's good. Um, is he nearby? Can I say something?" He asked.

Edward rolled his eyes. If he said no, he would get suspicious. Damn it all to hell. He silently groaned, pulling away from her pussy, a string of her arousal and his saliva attached to his bottom lip. With the back of his hand, he wiped it away. Y/n nearly moaned, biting on her tongue to prevent it. He nodded at her, irritated that he would have to 'pretend' to be shy little Edward once again. Though, to be fair, he was shy little Edward. It was his Riddler side that made him the complete opposite. But, that's what they were working on right now, in a strange way.

"Yeah, I'll give the phone to him. Um, he might be a little shaken up. Be nice with him, Brucey." She said.

Y/n gave Edward the phone, watching as he held it in his left hand. With his other hand, he brought it to y/n's clit, rubbing circles on it. Of course she wasn't going to get a break. Not with Edward around. Roughly, he pressed his thumb against it, moving it very subtly every once in a while.

"Um, hello?" He mumbled softly, staring at y/n's pussy.

It was impressive how good he was at acting. His facial expression was cold and focused, his actions were vulgar and erotic, and yet his voice was meek and pitiful. The whole situation was so messed up.

"Hi. So, I'm not really sure how to start this conversation. Um, you understand why I might be a little nervous of you being around my sister, right? Last time I saw you, you weren't exactly 'sane'." Bruce said awkwardly.

Edward rolled his eyes yet again, pinching y/n's clit between his fingers. Her back arched, gripping onto the back of the couch. He smirked, focusing back onto the call.

"Yeah, I understand. But, I'm not that person anymore, Mr. Wayne. I was in a really...dark...place. I know I did bad things, but I can't take them back." He said weakly.

"Look, y/n likes you a lot. She trusts you a lot. If she trusts you, then I'll do my best to trust you too."

"I like her a lot, too. She's the first person to have shown me kindness in my life. I...I want to...I want to be a better person for her." He fake cried.

"Uh, it's ok. I believe you. Just know that I've got my eye on you. Can you give the phone back to y/n?"

"Yes, Mr. Wayne. S-Sorry..." He stuttered.

Rolling his eyes, he tossed the phone back to y/n. He instantly snapped out of his 'shy' act. Though, he didn't really lie about anything. Everything he said was true. It was just his tone that he lied about. If he had been cocky and confident, well, that would have probably raised some red flags. As y/n talked to her brother, Edward sunk back down between her legs, resuming his sloppy tonguing.

"He seems so...small?" Bruce said.

Y/n winced as he dug his nails into her skin. She knew he was feeling insulted. Even though he most definitely was not small at all. He was just acting like he was.

"Well, he's going through a lot right now Bruce."

"I guess. He's not staying over there, is he?" He asked.

"Um, I'm not sure. E-Edward, were you able to get your old apartment back or do you still need to find a new place?" She asked, irritated that she had to make him stop eating her out.

"No. They took everything out of my apartment and put it in a storage unit." He said before getting back to work.

Edward had lost his apartment when he went to the hospital. The person who was in charge of the tenants talked with the police and decided to just keep his things in a storage unit. As soon as he had a place to live, he would go and collect his possessions.

"He doesn't have a place to stay. He's staying Bruce." She stated.

"I don't know how I feel about that."

"Well, it's not really your decision, is it? I'm not going to kick him out into the streets of Gotham late at night." She scoffed.

Edward grimaced.

"I'm perfectly capable of defending myself..." He mumbled against her skin quietly before biting her.

She bit back a whimper.

"Fine. Just be safe." He said.

"I will, Brucey."

"Alright, I love you sis."

"I love you too. I'll call you in the morning. Good night."

"Good night."

Y/n hung up the phone, tossing it to the side. Edward groaned loudly, spreading her open and devouring her. The wet slurping sounds were so vulgar and sickening. He was acting as if he hadn't eaten anything in weeks, and y/n's pussy was a four course meal. She squealed when he bit on her clit harshly, tugging on it with his teeth. He pulled away and stood up, spitting on her heat as he removed his gloves, tossing them behind him. Without saying anything as a warning, he shoved three fingers inside of her as he hunched over her body. The sensation was so tight for both of them. Y/n let out a loud cry, throwing her head back into the couch. He watched as he fingered her at a rapid pace, stretching his fingers apart inside of her to further elevate the feeling. Grinning from ear to ear, he remembered that he still had his utility belt. He had ripped off a piece of duct tape earlier, intending to gag her, but the time just wasn't right. But, it was now. Oh it most definitely was. He abruptly slid his fingers out of her, sticking them in his mouth immediately. He relished the taste, humming in satisfaction as he sucked every bit off. Removing his fingers from his mouth, he slapped his hand lightly across her face, smiling at her.

"I was right, you do taste sweet. Like pure sugar." He hummed.

Y/n moaned from the slap, making him chuckle. He slapped her again, a little firmer this time. She winced, humming in response. Edward knew she'd like to be slapped around a little bit. Like he said a year ago, she was so easy to read. He grabbed the roll of duct tape, ripping a piece off. He held it in front of her face, dangling it like a cat toy.

"I have a strong suspicion that you're going to be very loud with what I'm about to do to you. We don't want your other tenants to think you're in danger, do we?" He smiled sadistically.

"W-What are you gonna do?" She asked.

"No! That'll spoil the surprise! But, if you get uncomfortable, just give daddy a little tap or hit, I'm pretty sure I can take it, on the shoulder ok?" He cooed, ruffling her hair humiliatingly.

Before she could say anything, he smothered her lips with the duct tape. Looking at her, he shook his head, deciding that it wasn't enough. Roughly, he ripped it off, making her wince. He grabbed the rag he had and shoved it in her mouth forcefully. It was the perfect fit.

"That's much better. Hm, I did really want to use the tape though..." He frowned.

He thought for a moment, thinking about what he could use it for. Not sure yet, he decided to just tape over the rag with a few pieces. Once he was sure it was secure enough, he stood up completely. Y/n laid below him, gagged and bare. Edward crossed his arms over his chest after adjusted his glasses. He stood in front of the T.V, which was still playing Breaking Bad albeit quietly, creating an outline around him.

"You look so weak. Like I could just..."

He made a 'snapping' motion with his hands.

"...break you."

Y/n moaned through the gag, watching as he walked into her bedroom. She looked at the T.V seeing Walter White come on screen. Rolling her eyes, she groaned. She loved the show, but holy shit did she hate that bald motherfucker. Her mouth was dry and she so badly wanted to remove the gag. She was fully capable of doing it, as her hands weren't bound. But, she wouldn't because Edward wanted her gagged. Edward always got what he wanted. She was happy to give him it. She sat up, grabbing a blanket and covering her body with it to protect herself from the cold. A few seconds later Edward came back in and something was in his hand. Y/n couldn't tell what it was, but she was sure he would show her soon. He knelt down in front of her, resting his arms on her covered thighs. Acting like he was a magician revealing a dove underneath a cloth, he lifted his hand off of the other. Y/n's eyes widened, it was her vibrator. He faked a shocked expression, looking at the hot pink vibrator and then back to her.

"Look what I foundddd!" He chuckled in a singsong tone.

She tried to say something, but the gag prevented her. He held up a hand, a cheeky smile on his face. He was so flamboyant with his actions and words, just like he was in the livestreams he did. It was scary, yet exciting.

"Now, I know what you're thinking. How did I find out about this? You're probably expecting me to say that I spied on you, watched you use it once, right? Well, really, I just opened up the wrong drawer while looking for the spare clothes I kept here. I can't believe it was still in the same place, and you kept my clothes too." He grinned.

Y/n rubbed her thighs together underneath the blanket. Edward grabbed it, and removed it from her legs. Though, he knew she was cold so he covered her chest with it instead. Fascinated, Edward turned it on, watching it vibrate as he held it between his thumb and two fingers. He lowered it slowly to between her legs, watching as she closed her eyes. Making a 'tsk' sound, he pulled away.

"Have you been using it? Better yet, do you think of me when you use it?" He asked.

She nodded frantically.

"Oh, you have, have you? Interesting..." He trailed.

He lowered it back down between her legs. But, yet again, he pulled away before it could touch her. He tilted his head to the side.

"Why do you have my clothes, still? Did you hold on to them because you awaited my return? Probably. Hm, do you wear them, y/n?"

She nodded again.

"Oh, you really have missed me. That's so precious." He cooed.

Harshly, he pressed the tip of it against her clit. She squinted her eyes shut, arching her back. He watched, mouth agape slightly as he took in her helpless form. An amused chuckle left his chest, sliding the vibrator inside of her slowly. She moaned, muffled by the gag, but still audible just barely.

"It's so pitiful that you had to resort to this cheap...toy...in order to get pleasure. If only I had been here to help you after those wet dreams that you no doubt had while I was away." He sympathized.

She nodded, whimpering into the gag. Edward turned it up to a higher intensity, watching her squirm. He grinned, rubbing his thumb over her clit in addition.

"But, I can promise you that once I fuck you, this is will never satisfy you ever again. It'll feel like a mere tickle compared to how I'll make you feel." Edward teased.

Y/n kicked her legs slightly, hitting Edward in the side. He knew she didn't mean to, so he didn't get mad. The overstimulation of the vibrator and his finger was just driving her near the edge. And that's exactly what he wanted. She continued to flail her legs around, though Edward held them down, almost like she was begging him to stop. But, he said she needed to tap him on the shoulder if she wanted him to stop. She knew that too, and she did not want him to stop, so she didn't do it.

"Oh, looks like someone's getting closer and closer, isn't she?" He taunted.

She had her head thrown back. Her cheeks were red from the arousal she felt. Eyes were closed shut tightly, focusing on reaching her orgasm. Edward smiled, turning the intensity up higher. That was what broke her. She moaned loudly into the gag. Edward groaned as he pulled out the vibrator, putting it against her clit. She shook under the sensation, back arching. He dove his head between her legs, cupping his mouth over her pussy after taking the vibrator away. Closing his eyes, he turned it off and rubbed her thighs as she squirted in his mouth. It was almost too much for him to handle. He growled, reaching under her and grabbing her ass. He lifted her up, desperately trying to get her closer to him, almost melt into him and join as one. Edward practically made out with her pussy, tonguing, licking, and sucking as she climaxed. Once he knew her orgasm was over, he slowed his attack on her, swallowing what was in his mouth. He brought his lips away just slightly, letting his breath fan on her sensitive skin. He let out a shaky laugh, moaning afterwards. His hands still gripped her thighs roughly as he lifted his head up completely. He needed another taste. He brought the vibrator to his lips and licked off whatever was on it. Sighing, he placed it on the coffee table next to him and swiped his tongue over his lips. He felt drunk off of her taste. He removed the tape and the gag from her mouth, placing the rag on the table and crumpling the duct tape up, placing it down as well. She panted immediately, hands covering her eyes as her chest heaved up and down. Edward hummed, bringing his thumbs down and spreading her pussy open, amused at how sensitive she was.

"Oh, don't relax just yet. I'm not even close done with you. Rabbit, I think you're ready for me. Do you think you are?" He asked.

"F-Fuck, yeah, b-but just g-give me a minute..." She panted.

He laughed, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his thighs. She whimpered as her exposed skin brushed against the fabric of his tank top. He walked over to her window, the exact one that he came in through. Y/n looked confused as he opened it, but he just smirked at her. In one fluid movement, he bent her over the window sill. Edward removed his pants, kicking them away. Y/n tried to come back inside, but he pushed her head down as he stepped behind her.

"E-Eddie..."

"Oh no rabbit, call me something else." He corrected.

"Daddy, it's cold a-and people are gonna see me!" She pouted.

He laughed, grinding his clothed dick over her pussy. She moaned, covering her mouth with her hand. Edward leaned over, grabbing her hair roughly.

"That's the entire point of this degrading act. I was able to get in because this window was open. You're practically asking people to break in and harm you. You already had yourself on display for people, I'm just making it more obvious." He spat.

"P-Please, I wanna come in!"

"You can come back in after you do one thing." He rubbed her back.

"W-What?"

Without warning, he shoved himself inside of her, head leaning back at the tight feeling. It was better than he could have ever imagined. His hand came nowhere close to it. Y/n covered her mouth, nearly screaming into it. Edward stilled inside of her as he bent back over.

"All you have to do is yell my name out. Yell it right into the street. Let everyone on this block, all the people trying to sleep, let them all hear you take this dick." He smiled sinisterly.

"W-What! No, daddy, th-that's humiliating! P-Please..." She whined.

Edward gripped her hips, ramming in and out of her. Y/n bit down on her lip, tears forming in her eyes as she held back her cries. He kept up the brutal pace, mouth agape as he admired the arch in her back. It was twisted, but her humiliation fed his ego and made him so power hungry.

"Rabbit, I know you're holding it back. Just let it out. I want everyone to know who's fucking your needy pussy." He groaned.

"I-I-I, p-please...c-can't take it..." Y/n pleaded.

"Oh, but you can and you will. You know why? Because..."

Edward slapped her ass harshly, leaving a bright red handprint. She whimpered and a tear trickled down her cheek. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, lifting her up slightly. He brought his head down to hers, raising his voice, and making it echo down the street.

"...I. Fucking. Told you!" He shouted between his thrusts.

He had no shame. Someone could walk in on him railing her and he'd pay no mind to it. He'd just pick up his pace and continue to fuck up into her. But, he knew y/n felt shame. And that's what made it more fun. She was mortified and he knew it. Y/n wanted to come back inside so bad. She had no choice other than to do what he said. But, if she was so mortified, then why was she enjoying it so much? Easy answer: because it was Edward doing it. If any other man had treated y/n like this during sex she would have kicked him out, slammed the door in his face, and called the police. But, with Edward...it was so much fun.

"E-Edward! Fuck! P-Please! It feels so good!" She cried out.

Edward hummed in satisfaction. He brought her back in, pulling his dick out of her. Closing the window, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and pushed her to the floor. Y/n's eyes widened when she saw his dick. It was well over average. Very well over average. He straddled her lap, hands wrapped around her neck the entire time.

"You know why I did that?" He asked.

"B'cause I l-left the window open?" She mumbled.

"Partially, yes. But I wanted to show you that I have no problem fucking you when you need to be fucked. I'll bend you over a windowsill, I'll push you up against a wall, I'll ruin you in an alleyway, I'll take you to a bathroom and fuck your brains out, and I'll fuck you on this floor. I don't need a cushy bed or couch to rearrange your pretty little guts." He seethed, tightening his grip on her neck.

"Ohhh, fuck meee daddy..." She moaned.

"No. You don't sound desperate enough. I don't think you really want it." He scoffed.

Y/n whined, trying to turn over. Edward noticed and lifted himself up slightly. She flipped on her stomach, completely naked on the floor as she stuck her ass up and backed it up against his dick. He watched in amusement, taking in how whorish she was acting. Laughing, he grabbed her ass, grinding against it agonizingly slow. He reached over to his pants and grabbed his phone from them, glad that he hospital held onto it for him.

"Ohhh rabbit, smile for the camera." He taunted.

She looked at him, batting her eyelashes. When she saw the phone, she didn't get uncomfortable. Instead, she increased her arch, shoving her ass up higher. Edward scoffed, taking a picture of the erotic position, his dick in the picture as well, poking at her pussy. She moaned, wiggling her ass back and forth as a way of asking him to fuck her. He rolled his eyes, flipping her over and slamming her hips down. Edward propped his phone up against a chair, angling it so it only had their bodies in frame before pressing record. He looked down at y/n.

"Are you going to be a good little rabbit and put on a show? Make a little movie for me?"

"Oh f-fuck, yes daddy please! A-Anything, j-just need your dick...p-please..." She begged.

Edward groaned, shoving himself inside of her completely. Y/n arched her back, letting a lewd moan leave her lips. He shushed her, covering her mouth with his hand as he continued to fuck her slowly.

"You already screamed out into the street, don't you think the people below you will hear you moaning my name? Do you really want to draw more attention to yourself?" He mocked.

She shook her head.

"That's what I thought. Oh, you look so pretty when I'm fucking you." He cooed.

He grabbed one of her hands and placed it over her lower stomach, near the pelvis. Pushing down, he held it in place while he continued to slowly yet fluidly rut into her. Y/n couldn't suppress the shocked moan as she felt his dick, albeit faintly, moving inside her. Again, the feeling was extremely faint, but she could still feel her skin move just slightly. It was enough to make her lose her mind though. Edward nodded his head, laughing as he pushed her hand into her stomach more, making sure she could feel it as much as she could.

"You feel that, rabbit?" He asked, groaning as he did a quick thrust, angled slightly upwards.

Y/n whimpered and nodded her head. She couldn't even get a single word out, let alone a syllable.

"That's how it feels to get your guts fucked." He spat.

Edward picked up his pace, grabbing her legs and wrapping them around his waist. The heels of her feet dug into his ass as he pummeled into her. She slid up and down the floor from the force of his thrusts, moaning the entire time. Edward was extremely careful not to push himself near the edge, as he wanted this to last as long as he could make it. But, y/n had a different idea in mind. She tightened around his dick, making him groan and hunch over. He hissed, going faster and faster, giving her a slap across the face. Needing her to be closer, he grabbing her waist and drew her close to his chest. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he held onto her thighs. Edward continued to fuck her, wincing as she bit down on his shoulder to remain quiet. He moaned, feeling her tighten around him once again. She was getting close to her second orgasm.

"You're so filthy, letting me take you like this. And now you're about to cum on my cock. It's fucking pathetic." He whispered in her ear.

She whimpered, sobbing into his neck as her orgasm washed over her. It was so overwhelming and made her whole body go numb. He held her close as he felt her loosen around him. Her pants and whines echoed in his ear and he listened to them as if it was his favorite song.

"That's it, my filthy little rabbit. Worn out like an old glove, aren't you?" He cooed mockingly, turning off the recording.

"M' so tired..." She mumbled.

"But, I'm still not done. You've gotten to cum twice, and I haven't once. Does that sound fair?" He hummed.

"N-No daddy."

"Then get the fuck up." He spat.

Y/n whimpered, lifting herself off his dick and standing up. Edward grabbed his phone, stopping the recording, and pointed towards her bedroom. He slapped her on the ass before she scurried to her bed. Edward followed, ego inflated and attitude cocky. He saw her on her back, legs spread out, putting herself on display. Slowly, he closed the door, staring at her blankly. She practically shrank under his icy gaze.

"I've been gentle with you, rabbit."

She whined, rubbing her thighs together. Her eyes moved to his hand, freezing as she saw a belt. Edward could see that she looked uncomfortable, so he figured he should clarify.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to hit you with it. I'm not comfortable with that." He reassured.

She nodded, relaxing instantly. Edward approached her, motioning for her to get closer. When she did, he quickly wrapped the belt around her neck, not hooking it, and tugged on it. She choked slightly, as when he pulled it, it tightened. He didn't say anything as he shoved her down in the mattress, hand keeping her head down. Y/n moaned, remembering that this was something he said he wanted to do to her during the visit. She cried out as he fucked down in her. He pulled on the belt, silencing her cry, pushing her head down with his hand firmly.

"No, no, NO! Stay STILL!" He ordered.

Y/n nodded, whining as a bit of her slick trickled down her leg. Edward saw and brought his finger down, wiping it up and licking it off. He groaned, slapping her ass as he abruptly started to animalistically drill down into her. She whimpered, the noises she could make being restricted by the tight belt around her throat. He laughed, enjoying the scenario a little too much.

"You're pathetic. I hope you know that. But, I love you for it. I love how you risked your entire reputation while I said all those vulgar things to you in that visitation room. I love how you let me eat your pretty pussy while you called your brother, when you easily could have made me stop. I love how you're such a perfect angel in public, but as soon as I even look at you, you grovel at my feet. I love how you'll do anything I tell you to." He groaned.

"A-Anything you want d-daddy!" She choked out.

Edward tightened the belt.

"Did I say you could fucking speak? No! So just shut the fuck up!" He seethed, spitting on her back.

He pushed her head further into the mattress as he got on the bed. His knees on either side of her, letting him get a better angle. He bent over, giving no warning as he bit down hard on her shoulder. Y/n screamed into the mattress as he broke skin. He said he would do this too. He told her he would mark her. He told her that he would sink his teeth into her skin and make her bleed. She knew him well enough to know he doesn't lie. He tightened the belt, continuing to fuck her as he sucked and bit her shoulder. Y/n knew that it would hurt like a bitch later on, but she didn't care in the moment.

"Fuck, you wanna cum again?" He asked, lips on her skin.

She whimpered, mumbling a soft 'yes' into the bed.

"Yeah? Oh I bet you do."

He pulled away from her shoulder. Edward felt himself get close to his orgasm. He grunted, pulling out of her and flipping her over. Leaning forward, he grabbed a fistful of her hair and turned her around so her head hung of the edge of the bed. He bent over and thrusted his dick inside her mouth, touching the back of her throat. He spread her legs open, hungrily licking and sucking at her clit. Y/n whimpered, clawing at the backs of his thighs in desperation to pull away. He moaned, shoving two fingers in her pussy and stretching them apart as he fucked her skull. He curled his fingers before pulling them out, gripping her thighs as he reached his climax, hot thick ropes shooting down her throat. She gagged, tears trickled down her face as her mouth was filled up with his cum. He pulled out of her, moving away and looking at her face with a blank stare as she hung upside down. She swallowed the thick liquid, grimacing as she did it. Edward slapped her across the face, squeezing her jaw to force her mouth open. He looked inside, watching as a string of cum trickled off her tongue. He caught it on his finger and shoved it inside her mouth, feeling her tongue swirl around it before pulling it out. He stood up once he was satisfied, sitting down on the bed and leaning his back against the headboard. Y/n whined, slowly sitting up.

"D-Daddy..."

He looked up at her dully. She had her hand between her thighs, squeezed tightly together. The bite mark on her shoulder was a dark red-purple, but it wasn't bleeding. He grimaced, upset that he hadn't caused her to bleed. Sadistic, yes, but he wanted to see if her blood was just as sweet as the rest of her body. Edward scoffed, motioning for her to come over to him. Not needing to be told twice, she crawled on his lap, legs straddling one of his thighs. Now, Edward was spent, that was for certain. Could he have done a lot more than what he did to her? Yes. But, he didn't. Maybe in the future, if he needed to have another 'therapeutic' fuck, he would be more rough and kinky. Yeah, he was already rough and kinky with her, but he could have done so much more. Not now, of course. But, some time soon. However, he could still rough her around a little more. After all, he could tell how desperate she was for an orgasm. Why wouldn't he toy with her a little?

"What is it, rabbit? Hm?" He cooed in a sickly sweet voice.

"Y-You didn't let me cum..." She whined, rubbing back and forth on his thighs.

Edward feigned innocence, though y/n knew he was toying with her. He shook his head, brushing hair out of his face.

"No, I made you cum twice little rabbit. Or do you not remember? Did I fuck you dumb?" He hummed.

"N-No, I mean right n-now..."

He made a shocked face, tilting his head to the side. Pushing his glasses up, he softly said 'ohhh'. Y/n continued to grind on his thighs, biting on her bottom lip.

"Is that what you're trying to do? Cum? Is that it?"

She nodded, gripping onto his shoulders. Edward stayed silent for a bit, letting her go a little longer. He watched the way her hips rolled as she moved back and forth. Her arousal was coated his thigh, smearing it all over his skin. After a few more seconds, he used his hands to hold her hips firmly in place. Y/n groaned at the sudden inability to move. Looking into her eyes, he let his nails dig into her soft flesh. Her face contorted and she hissed.

"Do we not ask for permission anymore? Huh?" He questioned lowly.

"I just r-really need it!" She stuttered.

"Yes, I can see that, I'm not fucking blind. But you're not the one in charge here, are you?"

"Well..."

"Are you?!" He raised his voice, digging his nails in further.

"No! I'm not!" She shrieked.

"Who is?"

"You are!"

"And what's my name?"

"E-Edward!"

"So, who's in charge?" He asked, yanking her forward so his leg grinded against her heat.

"F-Fuck! Edward is!"

During the conversation, Edward's dick had gotten hard again. He didn't think he'd be wanting a round two, but he just couldn't help himself anymore. Roughly, he pushed her on her back, hovering over her on the bed. Y/n instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, practically begging him to take her again. He felt something inside of him change. It was as if the 'switch' determining his persona was balanced in the middle, and now it was fully on 'The Riddler'. He felt that this was progress, hopefully this second round would be enough to suppress his alter ego for a while to come. Y/n could see it in his eyes, she could see the fire and craze. It was startling, as if she was looking into the eyes of a murderer. Well, that's the thing, she was. Except this time, it was the true murderer, not Edward. The Riddler was the personification of his darkest desires, his darkest thoughts, his hatred, and his anger. He was absolutely positive that this fuck would help him deal with that side of him, but he did know that he would also have to go to therapy sessions. He was ok with that. But, currently, he couldn't think about anything other than ruining y/n once again. It was as if he was back in his 'early days' of becoming the Riddler. After all, it was his research he did as the Riddler that led him to getting interested in y/n. It was the Riddler that gave him the confidence to go after her. Sure, Edward's 'normal' self helped with it too, but if it weren't for his alter ego, he never would have been here with y/n. Edward knew he would never be able to fully get rid of his persona, and he was ok with that. But, he wanted to learn how to push it down and make it more 'tame'. And, since y/n was ok with it, he figured he could just 'tame' it in the bedroom. Y/n could see the switch flip in his brain, and it excited her. It was obvious that he was fully in his alter ego state now, as he had the same insane look in his eyes as he did in that visitation room. Oh, y/n remembered it so well. Edw-The Riddler, looked down at her, a familiar wide grin spreading over his face. It sent a chill down her spine and made her ache between her legs. She knew that things were going to be more...harsh. Severe.

"Ohhh, rabbit, sweet, gentle rabbit. Enticing and delicate beneath me." He breathed out, gliding his knuckled over her cheek.

Y/n hesitated to speak, not entirely sure what she should call him. When she visited him, he was 'The Riddler' and she called him Edward. He didn't seem to mind. After all, he still was Edward. Just the 'darker' part of him. She had also called him daddy a lot, and he really seemed to love that. Though, it was surprising, he seemed to prefer being called it in sweet moments, granted with the occasional sexual moment.

"Edwa-"

He backhanded her across the face, way harder than Ed had ever done. She whimpered, bringing her hand to her face and feeling it sting. Laughing, he grabbed her face with both of his hands, the grip very tight.

"SHUT UP!" He yelled.

She nodded softly, restricted by his hands. His pupils were dilated, frantically scanning her face. Y/n dared not speak a word, not even a peep. He breathed heavily as he looked over her body and y/n could feel his dick poke at her inner thigh. His focus was on the bite mark on her shoulder, the slightly smudged mascara under her eyes, and the glitter that was in the corner of them and on the tip of her nose. She sparkled below him, ethereal and heavenly, despite being run through by his dick twice already. He licked his lips, gripping her hair with one of his hands roughly.

"Oh, there is so much potential...so many things to do to you..."

Y/n lifted her hand up, wanting to touch his face. But, she was cautious, as if she was trying to pet a wild animal. He smirked, knowing that he was making her nervous and wary. Oh, but that's what he wanted. He was a sly fox, baring his teeth at a jittery rabbit. And he so badly wanted to clamp his jaws around her supple throat.

"You can touch me, rabbit. I won't bite..." He hummed.

Leaning down to her, he hovered his lips near her ear. Y/n wrapped her arms around his neck, unsettled by how sweet he was being. In fact, it was gentler than before. Something was up. She just needed to be prepared for it. And she was right...

"...softly." He chuckled lowly.

His teeth sank into the bite mark already on her shoulder. It wasn't gentle at all, he was not holding back. But, as if his canines piercing her flesh wasn't enough, he reared his hips back and thrusted himself inside of her with brutal force. He went so deep that his tip hit the bundle of nerves inside of her, making her stomach drop and mouth hang open. The multiple sensations, painful and pleasing, overwhelmed her and she couldn't muster a scream. She was choking on her words. But, just to make sure she didn't get too loud, Edward brought a hand to her face and covered her mouth with it. He was gripping the skin of her face in an attempt to shut her up, and it was working. It was impressive how good he was at multitasking, but he was good at many things. Pearly white teeth grazed over her skin as he tried to draw blood. He wanted to tear her flesh away, but he didn't want to ruin her pretty complexion. So, he settled on a little bit of blood. He bit down harder, y/n screaming into his hand as he did so. Just like he wanted, a few drops of blood slid down from the small wound he inflicted. Again, he made it small as to not maim her pretty skin. But, it was still sure to hurt like a bitch. He pulled away, a tiny amount of blood smeared on his bottom lip. Panting, he watched as the dark liquid trickled down her collarbone. His hand was still over y/n's mouth, giving her cheek a firm slap while it was still near her face. His tongue rolled out as he lowered himself back down to her neck, continuing to fuck her ferociously. He was practically drooling as he licked up her blood, a horrifyingly erotic moan leaving his throat. His eyes rolled back in his head and he took a moment to enjoy the taste. He was right about it. It tasted like pure sugar. Liquid sugar staining his lips, tongue, and teeth a violent shade red. Y/n moaned into his hand and he gave a harsh thrust, signaling for her to be quiet. Sighing shakily, he pulled away from her neck and sat up straight as he ran through her. It looked like a scene from a horror movie. The killer, bloodstained and crazed. The final girl, helpless and scared. But, this was more erotic of course. This was like if the killer held the knife to the final girl's throat and she moaned, asking him to fuck her. She knew it was dangerous, but she loved the thrill.

"You taste better than I could have ever imagined. Than I have imagined." He shivered.

Y/n whimpered, the stinging sensation of her neck now taking over her senses. It hurt so bad, burning and throbbing. But, it felt so good at the same time. Edward wasn't done though. He still wanted to humiliate her a little more. Play around with her. Remind her that she was getting dicked down by The Riddler. He lifted her legs up, forcing them to stay wrapped around his waist. His pace inside of her was savage and brutal as he brought his hand off her mouth and slapped her across the face lightly. He did it again, and again, and again, chuckling as he did it. His fingers hooked inside her mouth, forcing her lower jaw to stay slack. He wasn't even sure what he was doing, he just wanted to play with her like a toy. His tongue swept over his lips, wiping away excess blood. After he did that, he spit on her chest, his saliva tinted pink. With her mouth still pried open, he spat on her tongue. She swallowed it, making him twitch inside of her at how she knew exactly what he wanted her to do without saying it. He lowered himself down, lips hovering over hers as he pushed himself back and forth over her body, fucking her up close and personal.

"You're loving this too much, rabbit. Don't you feel filthy? You look filthy." He hissed.

"Y-Yes, I-I'm fil-ilthy!" She pleaded in between his thrusts.

He pressed his lips against hers, making her taste her own blood. Humming into the kiss, he lowered one of his hands to grab her breast, pinching her nipple roughly. She groaned against his lips at the feeling, but was cut off with his other hand wrapping around her neck firmly. Edward pulled his lips away just barely, grazing over her own. The bed creaked below them, rocking back and forth dangerously from his rapid thrusts. Y/n's eyes were shut tightly, hands burrowing into his hair and gripping it for stability. Edward could feel himself getting close to his climax, and he could tell y/n was close as well.

"Some Cupid kills with arrows, some with traps." He laughed breathily.

Y/n opened her eyes, looking at him in confusion. She knew it was Shakespeare, but she wasn't in the right mind to process the meaning behind it. It wasn't necessary though, as Edward was quick to elaborate in her ear.

"You were lead into my trap, rabbit. And whilst you were trapped, you were shot in the heart. Falling in love with a muuuurderer...a staaaalker...a crrrrreep!" He laughed in lunacy, somehow fastening his pace even more.

"F-Fuuuuuck, Eddie! So close! Pleaseeee!" She whimpered pitifully.

"You looove my dick. You looove being handled like a toy. You looove being slapped around and getting fucked stupid. You are nothing more than my pretty, slutty, pathetic, little...rabbit." He emphasized his filthy words.

"M' your rabbit, p-please! Wan' cum so ba-ad, daddyyy!" She begged lazily.

Edward groaned, pulling out of her and bringing his face between her legs. He wasted no time sucking and shoving his tongue inside of her. Y/n squealed as he bit on her clit harshly, tugging on it with his teeth as he pushed two fingers inside her. He spread them out, making her kick her feet, squeezed his head between her thighs. He panted as he curled his fingers rapidly over and over again, biting and kissing her clit as she shook beneath him. She shot up from her laying position, grabbing his hair and shoving his head further between her legs, if it was even possible. Her orgasm washed over her and Edward squeezed her thigh, lapping up her climax greedily and hungrily. Groaning in pleasure, he pulled away, her arousal smeared over his mouth. He wiped it off with his thumb and sucked it off. Quickly, he grabbed a fistful of her hair he brought her over to him. He sat down on the bed with his back against the headboard, forcefully shoving her head down on his cock. She gripped the sheets of the bed as he held her down with a strong hand. Y/n sucked as best as she could, gagging on the length with tears in her eyes. She didn't have to suffer long though, as he went slack jawed and pulled on her hair, cuming on the back of her throat. Y/n swore she heard him whimper.

"Swallow." He ordered, pulling her mouth off his dick.

She did as he said, though the taste was not pleasant of course. He watched as her throat bobbed, making sure she followed directions. Once she did, he let out a deep sigh, pulling her close to his chest as he lay down on the bed. Y/n was confused, but she stayed in his arms. She could feel his breathing slow down, calming down from the actions they did together. His glasses were fogged up and he brought his hand up to clean them, running it through his hair after. Y/n spoke up to say something, but he hushed her gently, petting her head softly. It clicked in her mind that he must be collecting himself, so she was more than happy to give him time to adjust. After another minute, he patted her shoulder gently before sitting up. He rubbed his eyes underneath his glasses, sighing. Edward turned his head to look at her, smiling kindly. Y/n felt her heart flutter. The Riddler persona had such a hold over him, that he was never truly 'genuine' Edward. But, she was seeing a bit of that side of him currently. Now, Edward wasn't a shy little weirdo. Well, he was. But he wasn't weak. Everything the Riddler persona was, he was too, it just was 'heightened'. He looked at her shoulder, seeing the slightly bloody bite mark, eyes widening at it. Yes, he really wanted to do that to her, but it was still a jarring sight when he really took the time to look at it.

"Are you ok?" Y/n asked.

"I'm fine, a-are you ok?" He asked softly.

"Yeah, I liked it. It stings a little though." She shrugged.

"You did seem to like it a lot, you're quite the masochist aren't you?" He laughed.

Y/n crawled on his lap, grabbing one of the blankets on the bed and pulling it over the both of them. She sighed, snuggling up to his chest. Edward was taken aback, for some reason he thought y/n would kick him out of the apartment as soon as they finished. Sure, she said she loved him, but it was still a hard thing to believe as he had never been loved before. He was glad she didn't kick him out. He was glad she was holding him.

"Is your um...the Riddler, is he gone?" She asked, cheek against his tank top.

"Uh, well I don't think I'll ever get rid of it. But, it's definitely 'satisfied' for now. I'm going to go to therapy, hopefully I can figure something out. The therapists in Arkham aren't exactly the most helpful..." He sighed.

Y/n nodded.

"Sorry, did that bring the mood down?" Edward groaned internally.

"No, I'm glad you're telling me this. I want to see you get better. You mean a lot to me. I love you..."

"I love you too, y/n. I'm glad I didn't ruin the moment." He mumbled, kissing the top of her head.

"Well, you certainly ruined me! I'm extremely sore, I don't think I can walk." Y/n groaned.

"Well, I seem to recall you wanting me to do those things to you."

"Yeah, I did. And, I don't regret it. It was rough, but that was definitely the best sex I've ever had." She chuckled.

"That was my first time, so I'm glad I held up to my promise of making you feel good."

Y/n sat up slightly, looking down at him. Her eyes were wide and mouth ajar. Edward raised an eyebrow, glancing to his sides nervously. She poked his chest, making him grunt.

"Liar! That was not your first time!"

"I'm not lying! Is it really that hard to believe?" He asked.

Y/n straddled his lap, leaning down and glaring at him closely. Her face was inches away from his. She looked at his facial expressions.

"Jesus, you're serious! Well, that's very impressive. Was I a good first time for you...?" She asked sitting back up, suddenly shy.

Furrowing his eyebrows, he sat up. He cupped her face in his hands, making her look into his eyes. A dorky smile was on his face, dimples showing.

"Is that even a question? Of course you were, rabbit. You were so, so, so good. Perfect, even." He cooed.

Y/n smiled, but she sniffled. Edward frowned as a tear rolled down her cheek. She wiped it away, smudging her eyeliner that was miraculously still on her face. He felt his heart sink, stroking her hair and holding her chin gently.

"Oh no, no, no what's wrong? Did I say something? Was I too rough with you?" He frantically spewed.

"N-No, I just...I feel gross..."

Edward hummed, wiping a tear away with his thumb. He knew what she was experiencing. Well, not exactly, but he knew that some people would get sad after sex. Tutting, he pulled her close to his chest and enveloped her in a hug.

"...you said I was filthy and pathetic. Is that true?" She asked.

He felt his heart shatter.

"Shit, no it's not true. It was just dirty talk, y/n. Did you not like it? You should have used the safeword, rabbit. If I had known then I wouldn't have done it."

"No, I loved it, but I-I was just...I was worried you actually felt that way about me." Y/n mumbled.

"No. I don't. It was just dirty talk. Do you understand?"

She nodded, her bottom lip quivered, tears pooling in her eyes. Y/n couldn't explain it, but she just felt sad. She was not upset about what happened, she was never uncomfortable, she was not mad, she was not feeling guilty, she just had an overwhelming feeling of sadness. Perhaps, she doubted that Edward truly loved her? Or, maybe she just felt insecure? Vulnerable? Edward stroked her hair still, kissing the top of her head. He could tell she didn't even know how she felt. All he could do was comfort her. So, he remembered what she had said about accepting love back in the bookstore. He had done it in the visitation room, but he wasn't exactly sane during it. He would do it again now. Sane, holding her in his arms, and just as vulnerable as she was.

"Doubt that the stars are fire. Doubt that the sun doth move his aides. Doubt truth to be a liar. But, never doubt I love." He said softly.

Y/n lifted her head off of his chest, looking him in the eyes. She felt herself tear up again, but it wasn't from sadness. A small smile spread over her face. Edward brushed hair out of her face.

"I would not wish any companion in the world but you." She sighed.

Edward blushed. It was such a strange thing. He had snuck into her apartment after legally being released from Arkham. He had taken her on basically every surface he could. He had bit her, made her bleed, slapped her, and now he held her face in his hands. His gaze was gentle and loving. After an intimate and raucous night of rough love making, they both sat in her bed, quoting Shakespeare to each other. Their hearts were swollen and overflowing with love, filling their bodies to the brim. Edward intended to never leave her in his life. He intended on marrying her. That was what he wanted more than anything. She wanted that too. Alas, small steps. Baby steps.

"You feeling better now, rabbit?" He asked.

"Yeah, s-sorry..." She sniffled.

"No, don't apologize. There's absolutely no reason to. Now, why don't we get cleaned up, yeah?"

"Yes please, I feel so...icky." She laughed softly.

"Me too, I'm very sweaty. It's not a great feeling." He grimaced, shaking his head.

"Do you want to take a shower together?" Y/n asked, straightening his glasses for him.

"Yeah, I'd like that a lot actually..." He blushed.

"Edward, are you blushing? What's there to blush about? You literally just saw me naked and fucked the soul out of me!" She laughed, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"Well yeah, but...shut up." He mumbled, getting off the bed and standing up.

"You're such a dork." Y/n joked, taking his hand that he offered to her.

"Shit, wait stay right there" He said.

Y/n raised an eyebrow, but she did as he said. Funny, even when he wasn't being 'dominant' she still followed his orders. He left the room and y/n watched his ass as he walked away. She couldn't help it. Sue her. After a few seconds, Edward came back in with something behind his back. She tilted her head.

"What do you have? Is it a puppy?!"

Edward rolled his eyes, bringing it out in front of him. In his hands was a sketchbook. Smiling, y/n grabbed it and opened it up. She gasped as she saw drawings littered over the pages. Almost all of them were her. Others were sketches of places Edward felt were important. There was the bookstore, rooms of y/n's apartment, the coffee shop that Edward and y/n went to a lot, and the subway station. She looked back up at him, pride and love in her eyes.

"They uh, they let me keep a journal. The therapist said it would be good for my mental health. She said that I should sketch and document things that I remembered from before the hospital. Uh, like things and places that made me really happy. Nothing that evoked any bad feelings or thoughts. So um..." He trailed as she flipped through the pages.

"So you drew me? A-And the places we went to often? Edward, that's so sweet. Your art is so good, too! Um, why did you draw a subway station though?" She asked curiously.

"Oh, uh, well when I would get off of work and wait for the train, I would spend that time thinking about you. Like, what we had planned for that day. It was something to look forward to." He said shyly.

"Eddie, that's so romantic. How many of these drawings did you do?" She asked.

"That's my third book."

"Third book?!"

"I had a lot of time on my hands. It was one of the things that kept me occupied." He smiled.

Y/n sighed, hugging him after placing the book on the bed. She was so happy that he was back. Edward hugged her back, sniffling as he tried to hold back tears. He hated being vulnerable and crying, but he felt comfortable around her. He could be himself around her and not get judged. He felt loved.

"Y/n, will you be my girlfriend?" He asked abruptly.

She didn't even hesitate.

"Yes. I'd love to, Edward."

There went the water works. Edward couldn't hold them back anymore. He felt his inner child come out, jumping up and down and clapping his hands, happy that someone finally loved him. Tears streamed down his face, holding her tighter in his arms. She rubbed his back, letting him cry as he wiped his tears away. He was such a kind soul tormented by his past and his own self. Y/n intended on fixing that. She was going to give him the love he always deserved. She was going to help him get better, get him the best therapist that money could buy, and let him cry whenever he needed to.

"You're so nice to me..." He sobbed.

"Oh, Edward, of course I am. You deserve it. C'mon, let's go take a shower." She cooed.

He pulled away, removing his glasses so he could wipe his tears away. Putting them on the nightstand, he nodded. Edward blinked away the rest of the tears. Clearing his throat, he held y/n's face in his hand, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. He leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her lips. Smiling, he pinched her cheek gently, watching her pink dusted nose scrunch up in amusement.

"Alright, let's go rabbit."

#writers #fanfic writer #writers of tumblr #fanfic #the riddler #dc universe #paul dano #edward nashton #danonator #danocel #danonation #paul dano riddler #dano riddler

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jerswayman · 16 days

Text

just two grumpy babygirls catching their breath

#bruins lb #trent frederic #jakub lauko #boston bruins #bruins #nhledit #hockeyedit #there is nothing to thirst over here there is nothing to thirst over here there is nothing to thirst over here there is noth–#ok MAYBE i'm into it #j made a thing #faves

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whysamwhy123 · 7 months

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Any unpopular opinions?

(Sleepover Sunday, I guess, because I'm only getting to this now, whoops!) ALL I HAVE ARE UNPOPULAR OPINIONS, LOL. Seriously, I'm lucky I only have, like, seven followers because otherwise I'd be chased off this website with torches and pitchforks. I'll try to give a mildly spicy one and not to be too much of a bitch...we'll see...

Toni Storm's current character/gimmick is A THOUSAND times more creative and original than anything any man on that roster has done in YEARS. And the fact that she's not on this PPV card is a fucking travesty. But I'm not surprised because TK hates women, and wrestling fans simply do not show up for women's wrestling the same way they do for boring white guys doing the most generic, tired, old Heel 101 bullshit 🙂🙂🙂

Ah, fuck it, one more because I bitch about this every week anyways - that Nigel wanker on Collision is one of the worst commentators I've ever heard. He's so annoying! He spends more time putting himself over than the talent in the ring (literally the opposite of a commentator's job) and he clearly has no respect for the women because as soon as a women's match starts, he immediately starts talking about unrelated male wrestlers. Or just himself! And that's when he's not making pervy comments about them - dude makes JR sound like a feminist icon by comparison. I am uncooly judging everyone on here who thirsts over him. Come on, people, standards! Y'all gonna start thirsting over the Qanon moron next?

#Thanks for sending this in - sorry for going off and being a huge bitch!#*swirls my brandy glass from up here on my high horse* Why I could NEVER thirst over any random shitty white man in his forties! Poohoohoo!#*grumbles under my breath*#No I merely thirst over 20-something fuckboys who look like they have to call their moms on the phone every night without fail #So I really shouldn't judge but I am anyway *shrugs*#*looks both ways* OK is everyone gone? No one still paying attention?#Then a BONUS SUPER SPICY SUPER UNPOPULAR OPINION APPEARS! Read at your own risk...#Better Than You Bay Bay is some of the lamest shit I've ever seen #I already found both of those characters relentlessly uninteresting and/or stale but now they're so watered down it's UNBEARABLE #It drives me crazy how much TV time is dominated by this one thing #AND IT SIMPLY WILL NOT END!!#Max should have turned on Adam months ago then we could have moved onto something new but nooooooooooooooooooo #This thing has to DRAG ON FOREVER while the women can't get more than 30 seconds to cut a promo #Also it sucks how they took Maria out of the Kingdom just for this storyline #Because TK didn't want a GIIIIIIIRL getting her gross COOTIES all over his precious bro-tastic manfeels story #And everyone's eating this shit up with a spoon #Because nothing drives fandom crazier than two mediocre white dudes queerbaiting 🙂🙂🙂#....but like I respect other people's opinions if they enjoy it power to them! Good for y'all- at least someone's eating well #But I will never understand and I'll ALWAYS wish that a women's storyline could get half as much love and attention #....please don't hate me for this!#Is this my personal Gripebomb? LOL #*CM Punk voice* Contrary to popular belief I'm a very nice guy...

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ladylooch · 8 months

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We all need to work together now and ✨manifest✨ shirtless Timo in Ibiza pics

#b thirsts over Timo #again #nothing to see here #except perfect abs. hopefully.

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bumblingbabooshka · 1 year

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Alien: They say...they want the humans to die! Tuvok’s Vulcan Ass: A difficult place to start a negotiation v_v

#love how Chakotay is trying desperately this whole episode to stop Janeway from becoming a morally bankrupt murderer consumed entirely #by her anger and thirst for revenge which will turn her into the very thing she set out to destroy #meanwhile Tuvok's over here like 'Sure Captain.'#by which I mean it's funny but also I'm livid bc he's supposed to be her BEST FRIEND and MORAL COMPASS #He's got NOTHING to say about Janeway saying she'd let the aliens kill an ENTIRE SHIP OF PEOPLE???#star trek voyager equinox #couldn't it have been him AND Chakotay noticing that the Captain's acting weird??#wack! ABSOLUTELY /WACK!!!!!/#Anyway.......Seven and the Doctor were really great in this ep and B'Elanna & Max were cute they had good chemistry~!!#B'Elanna is adorable as always and forever and I'm so glad they didn't have one more second of Tom being jealous on screen #Chakotay really DOES stand with his CANCELLED wife

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stinkrascal · 1 year

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ea vlad is probably a tiny little man hes probably like 5’3” he looks like you could pick him up by the armpits like youre picking up an especially unruly and grumpy cat

#my vlad is tall bc he exists to be hot and traumatized #but i know realistically ea intended for vlad to be a manlet. i can be realistic here #that wont stop me from imagining vlad as a very tall handsome emo man though. nothing can stop my thirst over this specific ea townie

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godsfavoritescientist · 2 years

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thought about billford for too long and now eldritch horrors give me gender envy. what the fuck

#not gonna type out the lengthy train of thought that led me here #but I was thinking about how many wildly different origins one could think of for bill since theres so little info about it in canon #and a backstory I thought up which is no more plausible than almost anything else is...#...bill not innately having a million powers like seeing through eyes and visiting dreams and stuff. him starting out as Just Some Guy #bill being born with nothing notable about him except his power-hungry ambitions #which is fun because of the sort-of-ford-parallels #the thirst for greatness that is shared between them.#and the only big difference is ford not being willing to intentionally harm people to accomplish his dreams #but bill. bill is willing to burn his whole home dimension to the ground if it means he gets one step closer to #being the most powerful being in the multiverse #and once he gains enough power that he knows without a doubt that he is capable of taking over everything. he begins his quest to do that #its like. a backstory where bill starts out as a 2D triangle #without so much as the ability to comprehend the 3rd dimension. no powers no nothing #but over time he seeks out really powerful things such as time wishes and eldritch beings willing to share secrets etc #and makes himself more and more powerful and eldritch . to the point where he is unrecognizable to himself.#he holds the form of a triangle because its familiar to him. but his true form is formless and indescribable. a huge amalgamation #an amalgamation of so many different parts he added to himself over time that hes long since lost track of how many alterations hes made #he went from a 2d being to one that can see into infinite dimensions and timelines and minds #and at some point he grew powerful enough that some meddling being took notice of him. maybe the axolotl.#and this being decided bill was too dangerous to be able to freely access the whole multiverse. not with the kind of ambitions he has #so this being cursed bill to only be able to exist in his physical form in the nightmare realm. he has access to infinite dreamscapes #infinite eyes he can see out of. infinite knowledge in some senses of the word. and he can never USE all this power for what he GOT it for #it drives him up the goddamn Wall. and with so much time on his hands he plots how to escape.#he narrows down the dimension with the highest chance of successfully freeing him.#and he does the math for making a portal that can let him through without the curse applying to it #tags essay #this still doesn't explain how I got from there to Gender Envy but I'm not typing it all out. have this bill backstory I made up instead.

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unicornswilleatyourboobies · 2 years

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was gonna make a post saying that i need to know more ppl into men, forgetting that i'm mostly surrounded by straight girls

#granted i'm not rly friends with many ppl into men #but like still #anyway i'm just thirsting over all of maneskin rn don't mind me <3 #nothing to see here...

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luhrmannatural · 2 years

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every time jensen ackles appears in any kind of photos the dash becomes unusable i always forget people are genuinely attracted to him i thought you all were just kidding

#i know that he’s objectively hot he just does nothing for me. i look at him and i’m like ‘that isn’t dean. get him out of here’#he is singlehandedly responsible for almost all of my ‘am i actually a lesbian’ crises #though i will say people thirsting over misha scares me way more. in all ways except physical that man is like a distant uncle to me #would YOU enjoy people thirsting over your uncle? i think not.#worst parasocial tags i’ve ever written. not deleting them though #spn cast #jackles #a.txt

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ceilidho · 20 days

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prompt: simon notices you in the stands (welder/amateur rugby player au). (nsfw, 1.9k)

She’s in the stands again, and he doesn’t know who for.

The same bird as the time before, and the week before that. Always a few minutes into the match, like she snuck in through the backdoor. She always leaves in a hurry, up and out of her seat with her jacket already tugged on, her strides quick on her way out the main doors.

In the years since joining this amateur league, Simon’s never been tempted to talk to any of the people in the stands. For the most part, they’re there for one of the other players anyway. Wives, girlfriends, sisters—the odd cousin or fuck buddy, those girls dipping in and out, replaced by newer, sparklier versions of each other, the older ones licked clean.

His focus narrows when he steps onto the field anyway, shrinks like horse blinders sunk down over his skull. Hardly a reason for him to spare more than a glance towards the stands.

Rugby’s not a sport for spectators. At least, not such a low level league. Barely amateur—just some of the locals with a bit of built up stress and aggression to work off. It’s why he’s here after all. Simon spends the hours of his day hunched over sheets of metal and carbon steel, sweating into the metal mask pulled down over his face and staring without blinking into the heart of the flame just inches from his face.

His nerves are a closed fist in his chest and it grows and grows until he steps out onto the field of the local rec centre and hears the timer overhead start to count down and feels someone’s chest cave in when he drives his shoulder into their solar plexus, hears the breath whoosh out of them, their next breath in thin and febrile.

It sets his head right. Violence with no consequences. At the end of the game, he looks the man he just bruised and bloodied in the eye and shakes his hand. Puts the world to rights.

And he needs nothing more than that. His bills are paid, bloodthirst sated, thirst quenched when the team hits up a pub after the match, after which he slinks off into the night to head home with his hood drawn over his head, the size of him rarely inviting more violence. Occasionally it happens that someone with the bad luck of choosing him to mug wants to prove that they have the bigger cock, but that never ends well. Not for them at least.

Simon would fight for a living if welding paid him less. As it is, he satiates that beast in him on the field or the occasional back alley, and it keeps him in check.

But now there’s a bird in the stands drawing his eye and distracting him from the match. It rubs him the wrong way. The blood pumps through his veins more viciously, and the pretty thing in the stands watches the game completely unaware, a serene smile on her face. His gaze keeps being pulled towards where she and a couple clusters of fans sit and nurse paper cups of tea.

She cups both hands around her tea and he wonders absently whether she’d have to hold his cock the same way.

It’s Gaz who calls him out on it first, panting hard after the first period and frowning at the scoreboard. “Not to be a dick, but that was bollocks, Simon. Never seen you miss a pass like that.”

Few people could get away with speaking to him like that, but Gaz is right. He’s been playing like shit, too preoccupied by the bird watching him with wide, rapt eyes.

He doesn’t know how to apologise though, so he doesn’t. “Graves is a useless twat. Can’t throw for shit.”

Gaz rolls his eyes. “Not saying he isn’t, but you’re distracted. Where’s your head at?”

“Stay out of it, Garrick,” he says, not even bothering to meet his gaze, the warning clear in his voice.

“Sorry for caring,” Gaz shouts after him as Simon jogs away.

He asks around at first, trying to find out if she’s someone’s relative or girl, but all the guys just shrug, no answers. If she’s someone’s, they aren’t staking a claim on her. It’s good news for him. Bad news for anyone else taking an interest in the girl that comes to their every match to cheer them on.

His urges sit deeper than the abyssal plain.

She’d probably turn tail and run if she knew the hunger festering in his belly. She sits sweet and innocent in the stands cheering him on and all Simon can think about is pushing her knees up to her ears and feeding his fat cock into her pussy. Shoving his tongue into her cunt, licking her from hole to hole. Sucking each puffy lip into his mouth until her moans go garbled, eyes unfocused.

No, Simon thinks when she jumps to her feet enthusiastically at the end of the match, she probably wouldn’t like that. Women rarely do. Objectifying them and all those other terms that Gaz likes to wax on about, Johnny nodding along like he isn’t the same kind of mutt as Simon.

Even during the day, she troubles his thoughts. Troublemaker. He thinks of her when he cleans and buffs in between passes, mind not lulled into the rhythmic emptiness of usual. Even the sound of steel sizzling in his ears doesn’t clear her from his thoughts. Instead all he can think of is her walking into the shop in a little skirt and top, and dragging her to the back where he’d bend her over the closest desk and pull her panties to the side before sinking in to the hilt, mask still on.

He’s never gotten his cock wet on the job—never been tempted to. For her though, he’d make an exception.

By the next match, Simon’s made up his mind. When he sees her sneak in after the match has already started, he feels his blood pump harder, his tackles extra rough. His opponents walk away wincing and cursing him under their breath, but it only makes him preen when he glances over to find her watching him, hardly able to pull her eyes away. Price would call it peacocking. He wouldn’t be wrong.

He approaches her himself at the end of the match before she’s had time to pack up and leave, leaning over the railing separating the field from the stands, covered in sweat and grass stains and bleeding from his right eyebrow.

She stares up at him wide eyed, looking a little lost for words. “Hi?”

“Got somewhere to be?” he asks, blunt. He’s never had it in him for pleasantries. Why waste time when he can see even now the way her eyes rove over his chest appreciatively?

“…No,” she finally answers, shaking her head. “Just home for supper.”

“Look like you could use a good fuck. Come round back with me?”

The blatant proposition makes her eyes widen, but Simon doesn’t see the problem. Figures if she doesn’t have a man, there’s no issue with him trying out for the part. He waits her out though, vaguely admiring the pert shape of her mouth, lips round with shock.

Finally they come back together and she chews on her lower lip nervously, caught off-guard but considering it. He doesn’t hold it against her. His bird’s pretty enough, but he doubts she ever puts herself in the position to be asked. He sees the yes in her eyes before she says it.

Still, he enjoys the way she stutters it out softly, eyes downcast. Simon doesn’t bother with his goodbyes to the guys still on the field before ushering her out of the arena and down the hall to the locker rooms with a hand on her back. He drags her into the first empty supply closet he finds, locking the door behind them. She breathes a bit heavily, almost stumbling over her feet, and that’s the eagerness he’s been looking for. Proof his bird’s just as hungry as him.

She definitely is, Simon thinks, smug when he hoists her up and her legs wrap around his waist without a second thought, her eyes already glazed over. Like she’s been waiting for this for weeks, cunt already sopping wet when he nudges her panties to the side with his knuckles and buries his cock into her. She grips him like a vice, slack jawed and whimpering into the stretch. He likes that. He likes it more when she digs her nails deep into his back, leaving her mark behind.

“C’mon, don’t get shy on me,” Simon huffs into her neck when she tries to grab his hair instead, what little of it she can. He stares with eyes half-lidded at the way her tits bounce with each thrust. “I like it rough.”

She clenches up at that, dripping wet. Almost a shame that he couldn’t get his mouth on her first. He’ll have to follow her back home like the mongrel he is, mess her pretty bedsheets up and make her scream until she can’t even face the neighbours the next day.

He doesn’t need her to tell him to know that she’s a good girl, doesn’t do this ever. Only for him. He can tell by how tight of a screw she is, practically purring in his arms; it’s a fight to bully his cock into her. It’s nice when she stutters it out though, strokes his ego the right way.

“D-didn’t think you’d notice me,” she says, all shy even with her legs spread.

“Hard not to, pet,” Simon teases, endeared by her soft edges. His slot right in, if not a bit jaggedly. “Been panting after it for a while, haven’t ya?”

“I just wanted to get out of the flat for a bit,” she whispers.

That shifts his perception of her a bit. Infinitesimally so, but still. He didn’t expect the bird to have a lonely flame in her heart.

“Well, I noticed,” he grunts, and then bends to suck at the salty skin at the crook of her neck before pumping a load into her.

She’s a real good girl. Comes nice on his cock and muffles her whine by biting into his shoulder. He can’t wait until he’s covered in her bites, until his nipples hurt from making her chew on them and his neck is littered with hickeys like a schoolboy.

Taking her home is easy enough after that. She lets him drive them both back to her place, handing him the keys with a little yawn when he tucks her into the passenger seat of her own car all limp and pliant.

And he’s right, of course. He makes a right mess of her bed come morning.

When he leaves after a morning fuck in the shower and breakfast, the cold sinks into his stomach like a lead weight. The fist in his chest is clenched as ever; Simon hadn’t noticed it loosen in the bird’s presence, but he feels it now drawn tight again. Maybe he thought fucking her would finally shake her from his head, but instead it’s made it worse somehow. The lonely flame in his own chest flickers.

He stands in the middle of the sidewalk and thinks it over while angry nine-to-fivers snap at him before really taking him in and scurrying along. Then he turns back around, heading back the way he came.

The next time Simon sees her in the stands, he feels his smile like a phantom limb. He doesn’t have to ask to know she’s there for him.

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #ghost x reader #ghost/reader #cod simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader

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phantomrose96 · 1 year

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I'm thinking about Tumblr Live again and ruminating on WHY it's such a huge flop and I think I've figured it out: They've completely refused to make it a tumblr feature...

By which I mean (begrudgingly goes to unsnooze Tumblr live) this:

^This is meant with zero insult or derision to the people above, but these are absolutely not Tumblr users.

Every single thumbnail I've ever seen for Tumblr live seems to say "This is for clout!" "This is for a thirst trap!" "This is for influencers!" "This is for Tiktok wannabe stars!" "This is for showing your pretty filtered face and reaping what people on Instagram and Tiktok are desperately chasing!"

I'm remembering that Reddit has (or had) livestreams you could tune into like this. I've tapped into some. Ones I remember offhand include:

a guy just wandering around downtown in his city silently showing people the streets and stuff

a guy streaming his attempt to beat the last level of Celeste

a guy streaming his dog he was petting

And that, that was Reddit. That was undoubtedly just regular Reddit users going "oh stream feature? yeah okay. here's my dog." "here's my video game." "here's my street corner in Prague."

And when I think of all the recent successful Tumblr features, they're all things that correctly tapped into actual Tumblr user interests. Blaze had people go "haha yeah here's my dog." "here's my advertisement for a horse lawyer (lawyer who is a horse)." They let us buy crabs because, fuck it, crabs. The blue checkmarks were funny. Polls turned into the fandom brackets people have desperately wanted to make for a decade+. I'd wager the merch that calls on old Tumblr memes is at least decently successful.

If Tumblr Live wanted the chance to be successful, it should have been angled toward Tumblr users. "Here, you can livestream your cat if you want." "You can livestream yourself working on some fanart and chatting." "You can livestream yourself going bird watching because birds are your hyperfixation and you can identify them all by their song to all your followers who want to tune in for bird facts."

But Tumblr Live has never tried to be that. It ONLY seems like it wants to be a Tiktok-clone, Instagram-clone, clout-chaser baited-hook trying to pull converts over from Tiktok/Insta/etc who are trying to grow their influencer brand, which Tumblr is lethally hostile to.

(And ALL of this is only touching on the concept behind what's happening here. I haven't even touched on the third-party streaming service and questionable data protection.)

Like fine, I guess I get it from a business model of trying to grow your userbase--since catering to your existing userbase doesn't pull in new meat. But this will not work. Because anyone, tumblr-native or not, trying to grow themselves as an influencer will NOT find success here. This place is not a place of honor. No highly esteemed deed is commemorated here. Nothing valued is here. What is here was dangerous and repulsive to us. We will not watch your Shein haul stream.

#chrissy speaks #tumblr live

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floatmeintothesun · 6 months

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Utterly Enraptured

Pairing; Miguel O’Hara x f!reader

tags; breeding, little bit of overstimulation, Miguel goes into rut, creampie, wordcount 4k

Summary; Miguel seems to have forgotten about a certain side effect from having half of his genetic makeup being spider DNA

EXPLICIT - MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI

—

Wet, warm, perfectly molded to his length. Large palms pressing against thighs, his mouth quieting your little gasps and hiccups. His murmured praise, his filthy tongue pressing against your hole wetly, licking long stripes up your skin. Hungry. The twitch of his hips, the choked whimpers, he wants it. Needs it.

You’re gasping, trying in vain to muffle your moans into the pillow while he completely and irrevocably rearranges your insides. You’re so fucking sweet – god, he wants nothing more than to stuff you full of his seed, pull out and admire the view of him seeping out from your weeping pussy.

He wants to push it all back in with spit slicked fingers, kiss away all of your tears and do it all over again until you’re sobbing in pleasure, begging for more, more, more –

Miguel wakes up feeling fire burn at the base of his spine and the undeniable hardening of his cock. He immediately wants to just roll over and go back to bed.

It’s 7:47, he has to get up in ten minutes, he’s way too hot but the floors are probably freezing, his blankets are so so comfortable and his dick is aching. So far, great start to his morning. Miguel turns to his side, finding your side of the bed empty. He resists the urge to groan.

Right, you have your early work shift today.

He mourns the loss of the warmth as he kicks off his blankets with one languid motion. For a moment he’s tempted to just indulge himself right now, right here. Your scent is still in the air, soaked into your pillow, heady and intoxicating.

Absent-mindedly he palms himself, cupping the sizable bulge and considers. Miguel wants you, to be completely honest. Always does. Like a thirst that will never be quenched, he craves you. All of you. Your hands, your flesh, your blood — if he could, he’d worship every single inch of you for the rest of eternity.

And you’re not here. Unfortunately. He imagines your hand, smaller than his, wrapping securely around his length, the other curled loosely around his hot, swollen balls, and slowly exhales.

He can wait. He has self control. He doesn’t have time to fist himself like a wild animal. He has an online meeting to attend since he, for once, is taking a break from the Spider Verse for a day or two.

Miguel heaves a sigh and gets up, stretching lazily. The chill seeps into his skin and he resigns himself to taking a cold shower.

(He ends up having to clean spurts of creamy white off of the shower walls anyway. He is so fucked.)

—

There’s something wrong with him. There’s something wrong with today. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Miguel can’t get you out of his head.

You usually don’t leave his mind regardless, but at the moment, all he can think of is bending you over the nearest flat surface, letting you slather at his tip, feeling your sweet, tight pussy clench around him while he whispers obscenities in your ear.

He thinks of you all day, but his thoughts are never this…vividly vulgar. Miguel will admit to having the stray passing instance but right now? He’s practically been a depraved fucking dog for the past three hours straight.

This morning didn’t help. That damn dream didn’t help. He’s been staring at his laptop for the past thirty minutes trying desperately to redirect his thoughts to something more productive, his board members are droning on and on about stock values and whatnot – he has work to finish, but jesus, he can’t think of anything but you.

Your taste, your heat, your everything. He’s hard as rock as he mumbles some bullshit excuse to his meeting members before shutting off his laptop with a definite click. It’s as if a fog has filled his head, keeping him drunk and dizzy. Miguel’s body feels unbearably hot right now, scorching, needing.

“Lyla,” his voice is strangled. “What’s the date?”

His assistant flickers to life next to him, drawing up a calendar.

“Mm…it’s the 8th,” she says, blinking down at him. “Ah, I see. Your uh, time of the month, y’know?” She wiggles her eyebrows and he growls, waving her away. She pops up a little ways away, putting her hands on her hips.“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger, man,” Lyla frowns. “Just telling you,”

“Thanks,” He says bitingly, dismissing her and groaning into his hands. You won’t be home until later – and later means that he’s going to have to suffer for the next few hours, alone and unbearably horny. Wonderful.

Mentally, he berates himself with a low hiss, feeling annoyed that he didn't connect the dots earlier. His throat is dry and he swallows raspily.

He should’ve looked at the date, how could he have forgotten? Heightened sensitivity, overheating, inability to focus, the urge to fuck you into next week — all signs pointing to a very large neon billboard that says “SPIDER INSTINCT FUCKERY” in big bold letters. In other words, mating period.

It happens every other month through the 8th to the 10th when his body decides that it’s time to procreate and do nothing else for the next two days.

He sucks in a ragged breath slowly, trying to calm his fast beating heart. It doesn’t work, only serving to remind him of the pulsing in his chest and between his legs.

It wasn’t this bad before he started dating you. All he had to do was tug on his cock a few times and he was fine, for the most part. Anything else could be burned off by fighting criminals and doing his usual dimensional overseeing.

That was before you. You and your gorgeous smile, you and your honeyed scent, you and your burning touch. He’s so hungry — greedy. He wants your flesh in his hands, your slick on his chin, your hands on his body.

He doesn’t even realize he’s getting up from the couch and migrating to your shared room until his knees hit the mattress and his huge frame curls up on your side of the bed. His cock is stupidly hard, twitching and throbbing from where it’s formed a tent in his sweatpants.

Miguel can already feel the precum seeping out of him and staining his boxers. A whine rips itself out of his throat as he buries his head into your pillow, basking in your familiar sweet smell.

A heady mixture of your favorite shampoo, perfume and body, all swirling around him as he grinds his lower half into the bed desperately like a dog in heat.

It’s not enough. It’s not enough.

He needs you, craves you. His large hand snakes down to wrap around his weeping length, the other pulling down his sweat pants and boxers to give him some relief. It’s agony, waiting for you to come home.

He wishes you were here right now, wishes that he could pepper your face with kisses and croon apologies while he slowly bottoms out in your tight cunt while you writhe beneath him.

Or on top of him. He doesn’t give a damn. Any position you want, he’ll do it.

Just imagining your sweet whines and whimpers has his breath labored. He presses the heel of his palm against his stiff length, hissing at the jolt of pleasure and sensitivity that burns through him. It’s painfully dry, but he takes the slick precum dripping out of his tip to aid the tight slide of his fist over his fat cock. God, he just needs to pump you full of him and fuck it all back into you. The thought of you, all swollen and glowing with his kid makes him nearly feral.

His hips jerk upwards and he can’t help but imagine your hand instead of his, can’t help but imagine how much better it would feel.

He gasps quietly as his thumb presses against his slit, jaw tightening, fangs threatening to break skin. The hand currently not wrapped around his cock is clenching the bedsheets hard enough to rip.

He just needs to wait. He just has to wait a little longer. You’ll be home soon.

—

You slip off your shoes at the door, setting them aside on the rack near the entrance. The warmth from the apartment chases away the chill and you set down your bag, heaving a sigh of relief. You’ve been looking forward to spending time with your boyfriend all day since he has a rare day at home today.

You peek around the hall, letting your aching feet be comforted by the rugs near the living room. Where is Miguel anyways?

“Heyyyy,” Lyla pops up in front of you suddenly, grinning when you startle. “Looking for Miguel?”

You set a hand on your chest trying to calm your jackrabbiting heart, before giving her a small smile.

“Yeah. Is he here right now? I mean he said he would be, but I don’t know if he’s doing his Spider-man thing right now,” You tilt your head as Lyla’s expression flickers. She adjusts her glasses, glancing at your bedroom door.

“Well uh, he’s in there. Might wanna be careful though,” She mutters, checking out her bright pink nails absentmindedly. You raise an eyebrow.

“Why’s that?”

In lieu of explanation she draws up a calendar and materializes a glitching pen in her hands, circling the date. Your frown in confusion.

“The…8th?” You blink and she nods. Why would today be significant? It’s not your anniversary, the only thing that comes to mind at the moment is… “Oh.” You swallow dryly, remembering vague flashes from two months ago. Two months ago when he had fucked you silly for what was basically two days, interspersed with breaks in between. Then the sheepish explanation of what he calls "mating period" where his DNA practically drives him insane with rampant horniness.

Lyla nods empathetically.

“Yeah…well, good luck! I've heard that massages really help with soreness.” She vanishes with a pop of golden glimmers, leaving you alone in the hall.

You glance where she had been moments prior before sighing. Dating a man with half of his makeup being spider DNA came with its quirks. Your feet carry you down the hall and you open the door to find –

Oh fuck.

Miguel, in all of his bare glory, strong thighs spread wide, leaving nothing to the imagination. His sweatpants and shirt are in a heap on the floor, most likely thrown in his haste. His heaving chest is gleaming with sweat, abdomen twitching, looking like a Greek God.

And there, his throbbing, swollen cock squeezed tightly in his fist, his hips working back and forth at a languid pace. Long and thick, the tip shining slightly with precum. It makes you salivate, sticky heat beginning to grow between your legs.

The room's atmosphere is heavy as you mindlessly draw closer. Fuck, his gasps and whimpers sound so pretty. Half of his large frame is hanging off the bed as you realize he's on your side, face buried desperately in your pillow.

"B – baby," His words stutter in his throat as your scent overwhelms him, his nostrils flaring. "Please, please, please —fuck, need you so bad," he quivers, taking his hand off of his face to look back at you. He's grimacing, gorgeous plush lips stretched into a pathetic pout and you hum in acknowledgement, putting a hand on his thigh. He twitches but makes no other move.

Your clit throbs in response to the pure neediness in his voice, high and whiny. He sounds utterly wrecked, squeezing his cock and waiting for you to touch him. You’re so close, your hand is on his body, but it’s not where he wants it.

“You’re so desperate, Miguel,” You croon, reaching out slowly and wrapping your hand around his base. He makes a choked sound, his hand falling away to run through his sweaty hair. “Aren’t you?”

He doesn’t answer for a second, visibly trying to contain himself before he speaks, low and ragged.

“Yes,” He finally hisses, crimson irises foggy and clouded with lust. You hum in approval at his answer, squeezing lightly as you begin to pump him, going at a pace you know is wholly too slow for his taste. “Don’t t — tease me, cariño. Faster, baby, please,” He begs, his breath stuttering in his chest.

You rock back on your heel as you begin stroking faster, your thumb tracing the veins on the underside. Miguel’s eyes roll back as your deliciously hot mouth descends on him, your tongue circling his tip juuust the way he likes it. Fuck, you can feel yourself getting wetter with each trembling hiss and moan you pull out of this man — your man. You separate from him with a pop, licking pre from sticky fingers while he watches hungrily.

The smell of arousal — your arousal, invades his senses and his hands twitch and he lunges, pulling you up to him and flipping you over. You yelp in surprise as his hands immediately squeeze flesh, your hips, your thighs, your ass, anywhere he has access to.

You tilt up to kiss him and he leans down, pressing his lips to yours firmly. His tongue swipes against your bottom lip and when you allow him access inside he moans quietly, fangs digging into your lower lip lightly.

Your shirt is practically discarded at the speed of light and you shiver for a second at the cold washing over your skin before Miguel's all over you again.

He leans forward to fumble with your bra, fingers struggling to unclasp the hooks on the back. You laugh and pull it off yourself, to which he rolls his eyes fondly before his mirth is devoured by desire.

Thick fingers nimbly pull at your pants waistline.

"Take these off too, sweetheart," He whispers, leaving wet open mouth kisses trailing down your neck. You shiver, obliging quickly and kicking them off. They land somewhere on the floor and you don't care enough to look for them. Not when Miguel is between your legs, staring down at your clothed pussy like it's his last meal.

He inhales slowly, leaning down to press his head against your thigh. You smell so fucking intoxicating, he wants nothing more than to bury his face between your legs and make you scream in pleasure. But first he has to get rid of your panties.

"Hurry up, Miguel, please," You whine, wiggling your hips as if to try and encourage him. As if he needs any sort of encouragement.

"Do you care about these panties?" He asks, quick and low. You blink.

"No…? –! " You gasp as he lowers his head and fucking rips them off of you in one quick motion with his damn teeth. "Miguel!"

"I'll get you new ones, baby. Promise." He kisses your inner thigh, holding you down with two large searing hands. "As many as you want. As long as I get to have this goddamn pussy, I'll get you anything."

Your glistening lips look absolutely delicious, all wet and soaked from watching him play with his cock in front of you. He wants to put his mouth on your throbbing, swollen clit until you sob, wants your pussy in his face, wants his tongue in you while you grab at his hair and urge him for more. You'd taste divine, and he nearly just decides to do it anyway.

But his cock is so hard it almost hurts and he's about three seconds away from getting blue balls, so instead he sinks one finger in your drenched cunt. Your breath hitches and you turn your head into a pillow as he begins to finger fuck you in earnest. The obscene sound of slick gushing out from your hole makes Miguel nearly feral, nearly has his eyes rolling back into his head as he feels your tightness squeeze and pulse around his thick digit. You hiss at the stretch, slow pain and growing pleasure intertwining as Miguel goes slow adding a second.

"You're doing so good, so good, baby. You feel so – fuck, so good. Can you take one more?" He asks breathlessly. "C’mon, you're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You nod amidst blurry vision, gasping as he slides another finger in. His pace is fast and punishing, and the final goddamn nail on the coffin is the way his fingers press into your g-spot, while his thumb rubs messy circles on your puffy clit.

"Cum, baby, you can do it, you can fucking cum for me, can't you?" He latches onto your tit, swirling his tongue around your nipple in such a way that makes your head foggy.

“Mig – guel!” You whine brokenly as he rolls it between his teeth, sharp points of pleasure burning up your spine like wildfire. Miguel can’t help but groan at the feeling of your sweet cunt clamping down on his fingers, and he increases his speed at the telltale signs of your impending orgasm. You're so so close and when the building coil in your lower stomach finally snaps, you sob, gushing all over his palm.

Your bare chest heaves as he murmurs sweet praise in your ear, telling you that "You did so good, cariño," and "Look at you, you're so gorgeous all spread out like this,". Miguel drags his tongue down your neck, pulling away for a second to suck your juices off his fingers in an awfully erotic display of tongue, saliva, and a flash of a grin.

He presses kisses to your face, trying his absolute damndest not to hump you like a fucking dog but he’s waited so long and he’s going to go fucking insane if he doesn’t get your pretty pussy wrapped around his cock in the next two seconds.

“C’mere, baby,” Miguel takes himself in hand, his other keeping your thighs spread so he can see your twitching hole all wet and ready for him. “Can’t wait any damn longer – I’ll fuckin’ – explode or something.”

Looking up at him from your position is absolutely deadly. His hair is disheveled, strands slipping from their usually neat positions, his expression is utterly and completely devoted as his chest heaves. Your eyes travel down to shamelessly stare at his massive package, complete with his proportionally large hand curled around the weeping length.

He’s so stiff that he splits your lips easily, and he groans at the feeling of your slick coating the underside of his cock. You can’t help but gasp as he grinds against you slowly before the head catches on your clit and pushes inside.

And oh god, he could die right here and be happy, he could fucking die with the tip of his dick buried in your tight pussy and think that his life is fulfilled. It takes everything in him not to cum and paint your insides in a creamy white. Your wet walls are so slick and he hisses as they clamp down on him.

“Fuuuuck… baby you — you gotta loosen up for me, relax — mnnshit — “ he gasps, and you cry out, shifting underneath him. He rubs sloppy circles on your clit, his breathing labored as a few more inches of his monstrous cock slide in, “There we go, there we — nnngh, okay, good, so fucking good, you’re such a pretty girl,” he babbles nonsensically, practically losing his mind in the warmth.

“M — Miguel,” You hiccup, nudging him out of his daze. “Move — please, s’not enough,” You want him in your guts, you want him to fuck you until the only thing you can remember is the shape of his cock.

And who is he to deny you?

He shoves the rest of himself in in one fluid motion, his throat closing in on itself as he bottoms out, his pelvis flush to yours. His mouth parts slightly as his lips form an o shape, and he thrusts once, caging you in his burly arms.

“Oh shit — I’m gonna move, okay? M’gonna move,” he warns you, before pulling out slowly only to slam his hips back into yours with wild abandon. You suck in a startled breath as he begins to absolutely fuck your brains out, fire igniting deep in your lower stomach again. There’s none of his usual careful approach, there’s no teasing, no smug remarks. He’s focused on one thing and one thing only: stuffing you full of his seed until he physically can’t anymore.

You can barely get anything out as he grinds against you, his dick so deep inside that you’re sure that he’s showing through your lower stomach. Fuck – he feels so good as he fills your tight pussy, rocking precisely in all of your sensitive spots. The head of him practically kisses your damn cervix, sending you rocketing towards your second orgasm of the night.

Your brain is so mushy and pleasure-drowned that it takes you a second to realize that he’s still talking and oh fuck.

“Let me fill you, le— let me cum inside, please, please, baby, I wan – nngh, I want you all round and swollen f’me,” he sounds utterly wrecked, desperate and hungry all rolled in at once, “Wouldn’t you look so pretty an’ gorgeous? Pleas – e, please? Need you full, all full of me,” Miguel begs, grunting lowly when you clamp down on him from the downright filth flowing from his mouth.

“Yes – Miguel, just –nnhgod, oh shit, oh fuck,” You lose the tail end of your sentence as your head melts out of your ears and pleasure sears through your veins. Miguel whimpers at your words, shoving himself deeper than you thought was humanly possible.

“Waited so long for you, baby, was so – was so lonely, needed you – need you – “ He hits a spot that has you keening, eyes rolling back and your head bumping against the headboard of the bed. You’re driving him utterly insane, your moans and cries sounding like a blended symphony of bliss pounding through his eardrums. He leans down to litter any inch of bare skin he has access to in dark marks, his burning mouth trailing wetly down the valley between your breasts.

“M’close, Mig – uel, I’m going to cum, baby –” You manage to gasp out before you’re overwhelmed completely and your vision erupts into stars as you gush around him for the second time in one day. It feels like someone has poured molten pleasure down your veins and you’re incandescent with it.

Miguel chokes, low and deep in his throat, feeling your slick pussy tighten around his girthy cock, slathered in your juices. It tears a downright animalistic sound out of him, a trembling snarl from somewhere in his chest as he thrusts once, twice, then finally pumps you full of creamy thick seed.

His mouth is agape, transfixed in a silent ‘o’ as his hips stutter and his balls draw up tight, every atom in his body devoted to filling you completely. When he’s finished, he rolls his hips a few more times, fucking his cum deeper inside of you despite his hiss of overstimulation.

Your limbs are putty in his hands as he slides out slowly and adjusts you into a more comfortable position, his eyes lingering on the way some of his cum drips out of your loose hole. He pushes it all back in with two fingers, giving you a small smile of apology at your choked mutter, before collapsing down next to you and dragging you close to his chest.

“...How long does this last again?” You rasp, voice sore from screaming. Miguel hums in contemplation, nosing your shoulder from where he’s draped over you.

“About a day and a half more to go,” He responds languidly after a moment. “Are you okay with that?”

You know you’re going to be so sore by the end of it. You know you’ll probably be feeling it for weeks on end after. You know you’ll probably have to take a few sick days to recover too.

“Mhm,” You answer, kissing his cheek. “I can handle it,”

“That’s good,” He replies quietly, and you stiffen, feeling his fat softened cock twitch against your thigh. He raises his head to give you a semi sheepish look and you gulp.

Maybe you can’t handle it, actually. It’s okay though, since Miguel will take care of you long after.

—

Man im so sorry this was pretty late. At least i managed to get it in before October ended. Also I’d let that man dick me down any day of the week, 24/7 😻😻

#across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #into the spider verse #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #spiderman atsv #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara imagine

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ddollipop · 6 months

Text

CURB THIS SICKNESS. . . ! — ( SOFT YANDERE!PLAGUE DOCTOR OC X READER. )

#. synopsis! — there's a virus outside that's snuffed out the lights of many. . . and lucian refuses to let you meet such a miserable fate .

#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , multiple orgasms , vaginal fingering , implications of paranoia , cum swallowing , oral sex , cunnilingus , blowjob , vaginal sex , obsessive behavior , frequent usage of endearment terms (love, darling, angel) , missionary position , bathing , established relationship , slight choking , slight hair pulling , creampie , biting .

#. word count! — 5.1k .

#. oc carrd! — click here to find more information on lucian + other original characters of mine that i might write for in the future! xx .

When the virus began to spread in all directions from its alleged location of origin, —you were certain you’d be dead before winter. If not from sickness, then certainly from another disease, or at the hands of some twisted maniac just searching for someone to slaughter that nobody would care enough to miss. You thought it was only a matter of time before you succumbed to hunger or thirst or the changing chill of autumn, or maybe something completely different: but something was bound to happen, and you were sure of it.

And it did. . . But it was nothing like what you had in mind.

Lucian may have seemed like something out of a horror story passed down through generations, still clad in his working attire the night he scooped you up in his arms from a shabby alleyway like a stray kitten, but he was surprisingly gentle (and perhaps unusually quiet.) He wasn’t very talkative, but he cared for you in a way you were completely unaccustomed to, —prepared you a warm meal, brewed you chamomile tea, ran you a hot bath, and gave you a place to sleep for the night. He said you were slightly fevered and a bit malnourished, but all things considered, it could have been worlds worse.

“You’re lucky,” he hummed, a gloved hand smoothing over your jaw, “the pestilence hasn’t taken hold of you.”

Even back then, that wasn’t why you felt lucky. . . No, much to the contrary, you felt lucky because this man had taken you in without expecting anything of you in return, and he sought to keep you safe from the rot of the outside world. Thus, little by little, you stopped caring much about going out there.

His place is a bit quaint for two, but it’s homey, and it smells perpetually of lavender. Over time, he’s shifted the sleeping arrangements, and now you rest in his arms each night; about as close as one can get to being a lover without having the label.

A part of you is sure you could get it if you asked, but to you, it doesn’t matter much. At the end of each day, he comes home to you, and that’s what counts. You take care of the housework while he’s away (not that there’s ever much to do.) For as odd as he is, his living space is free of most things, —no trinkets unrelated to his work (which you are not keen on touching), and he’s meticulous about picking up after himself and keeping all his items in order, so your unofficial duties are few and far between. Otherwise, the rest boils down to cooking meals, washing clothes, and keeping yourself entertained while he’s away. . . Like some kind of glorified trophy wife.

And sure, this will probably get old eventually, but for now, this is what you’re working with. He likes to have you close and to know where you are, —to know that you’re safe and not out getting infected by anyone or anything. If you’re at his home, you’re safe from all the filth of the outside world, and heaven knows it’s so nice to come home and lie next to a body so utterly unmarred by the grime of society.

You’re sure once the virus has stilled, he’ll ease up.

But tonight is not that night. Lucian all but stumbles through the door, and you can hear his rapid breathing through the long, beak-like shape of his mask. He seems startled and frantic, and you rush over, a concerned expression crossing your features.

“Lucian? Are you alright?” You ask, reaching out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

In an instant, he snatches your wrist and grabs for the other, holding one in either hand. His grip is fervent, but far from painful, and you become more confused the longer he goes without explaining the state he’s found himself in.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he cuts you off, “you mustn’t get near the door.”

“Okay,” you nod in compliance, “but why?”

“The pestilence has taken hold of this city,” he replies. “The air out there, you wouldn’t believe the thickness of that putrid aroma. It’s suffocating.”

Before you can ask if there’s something you can do to quench his worries, he tugs you away from the entrance and into the bathroom. He removes his gloves and sets them aside, reaching down to begin running a warm bath. Then he looks to you, almost expectantly.

“Strip, please,” he encourages, —saying it like he’s desperate for the act, albeit not necessarily under the context you’d prefer of him.

“Lucian—”

“Darling,” he hisses, “please, do as I ask of you.”

His bare hands cup your cheeks.

“Please,” he repeats.

It’s hard to deny him when he asks like that and has been so good to you, and it’s not as if he’s asking for a lot. He’s just having a bad night, and if scrubbing yourself down will help ease his mind a bit, you’re willing to put in that sliver of extra effort for his sake.

Lucian sighs in relief as you begin to disrobe.

“Thank you,” he comments. “I really don’t have a clue what I’d do if you fell ill. . . I don’t think my heart could handle such a thing.”

You slip the last of your clothing off and step gingerly into the filling tub. It’s not long enough to stretch out in, so you bunch yourself up neatly to fit the space and look up at him once more.

“I feel fine,” you assure.

“I’m glad,” he replies. “Even so, it’s much better to air on the side of caution. The human body is a dangerously fickle thing, and it can be incredibly fragile. I’ve seen as much firsthand more times than I can count. In its infancy, this virus is little more than a common cold, but progresses into something fatal at a rapid pace.”

You simply nod as he kneels next to the tub, rolling his sleeves up.

“Your breathing is ragged, Lucian,” you state, “you should take that mask off and get some fresh air.”

“After,” he answers quickly.

He reaches for the half-used lavender soap bar and lathers it on his palms, then reaches out to smooth the suds over your arms and neck. His motions are a little rough and all too urgent. This is far from the first time he’s accompanied you for a bath, but it is the first time he’s ever done so and been this aggressive in his approach (if only as a result of his own anxiety.)

For the time being, he seems to avoid your breasts, instead reaching for one of your legs to hike it up out of the water. He repeats this process with the other, cleaning you until he seems satisfied. When he makes no move to revisit your chest, you take the soap from his hand and lather it yourself, placing it in its previous spot before leaning back slightly and allowing your hands to travel where you’d have liked for his to go.

Lucian watches but doesn’t touch. Your fingertips nudge at your nipples, feeling them harden under the minstrations, your bottom lip slipping between your teeth. If nothing else, he should be getting the hint by now.

Surprisingly, you’ve never had sex with him in all the months you’ve spent curled up in his arms, sleeping in his bed. He’s watched you take care of yourself on a number of occasions, has helped with his fingers another few times, —and allowed you to wrap your hand around him once a few weeks prior; but anything beyond that has seemed to be off limits. You’ve chalked it up to his shyness, or perhaps his distaste for human contact as a result of the pestilence; but tonight feels distinctly different.

Even in his previous state of frazzlement, Lucian seems all too content to sit back and watch you fondle your own breasts, soapy fingers clutching and releasing in tandem. You’ve always liked for him to watch you do things like this. Though his mask obscures the view of his face, you just know his eyes are trained on you, soaking up every movement, and you like to think he’s drooling at the way you grope yourself for his enjoyment (and for your own.)

“Lucian?” You prompt, half-lidded eyes glancing over to him.

His shoulders straighten as you say his name.

“You’re very beautiful,” he says, words almost too muffled by the mask to be made out.

“You think so?” You smirk a bit.

“I do.”

Ah, but that’s nothing new, and it’s nothing he hasn’t shared with you before. On the very night he took you in and washed your hair, he smoothed his gloved hands against your scalp and mumbled about how pretty you looked, even with dirt still caked on your skin. Even covered in filth from the alleyways you’d been sleeping in, he thought you were nothing less than stunning, —a real vision to behold, and he’s never skimped on such compliments.

You pause for a moment, reaching out to grasp for his hands. He allows the gesture, though he seems a bit confused, leaning in closer to the rim of the tub as you position him to your liking.

“Do you think I feel feverish?” You inquire, placing one of his hands on your neck and another on one of your breasts.

He makes no move to pull away, firming his grip up almost instantaneously, as if he’s been itching to feel you this way.

“Perhaps a bit warm,” he mumbles, taking a moment to roll your nipple between two nimble fingers, “but body temperature is known to rise during times of. . .” he trails off, clears his throat, then utters: “arousal.”

You trail your nails down his arm, letting your head tip back again. His hands are a bit calloused, but they feel so good against your skin, and you let a few moans slip past your lips. It’s not often he touches you like this without his gloves on, but the flesh-on-flesh contact is electrifying.

“Not to worry you, but I do feel a bit strange,” you huff slightly.

Through the slightly tinted bath water, Lucian can still watch your hand as it travels between your thighs.

“I’m just a throbbing mess,” you hum, giving him a pointed stare; “but you’ll take care of me. . . Right, Doctor?”

It may just be your imagination, but you could swear you heard his breathing shudder at that request. You’ve never been this forward with him, but something apart from the facial expression that’s still hidden away tells you that he likes where this is going. His fingers clamp down on the column of your throat, squeezing just enough to make taking in air a bit more of a struggle, but not anywhere near hard enough to be fatal.

The bit about being a throbbing mess was by no means an exaggeration on your part, so you take matters into your own fingers for the time being, drawing circles on your clit beneath the water.

“Of course,” he finally finds the voice to agree, “—I’d do anything to keep you from feeling unwell.”

That is what you like to hear.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

His grip tightens on your throat again, for emphasis, and with that, he seems to come slightly undone.

“Darling, that’s why I’ve demanded you stay here in my home, —our home. It’s safe here, free of contaminants and filth and anything that could cause you harm,” he says, the words spilling out like he’s been holding them back since he first set his sights on you.

“The world outside is ill, not just this rotten city. I’m working tirelessly to combat this pestilence, but as things stand now, the safest place you can be is here. With me. You understand that, my love. . . Don’t you?”

You’re only half listening, but you nod in agreement anyway. Whatever he’s saying, you trust his opinion on the matter.

“Of course,” you gasp, almost slipping a finger inside yourself to the tune of his melodic voice.

“I knew you would,” he continues, loosening the grip on your neck again. “You know I only want what’s best for you, that everything I do is to ensure your safety, —to eliminate the possibility of you ever falling sick.”

“Of course,” you repeat, head growing cloudier by the minute. “You’ve always taken such good care of me, right from the very beginning.”

God, he’s so elated that you’re seeing things his way. The way this makes him feel is almost too much to handle.

“I try so hard, darling, I truly do,” he says, both hands coming up to cup your cheeks.

“Please, Lucian,” you mumble desperately, “I need you tonight.”

He complies, shedding his long coat and draping it over your shoulders once you’ve stepped out of the tub. The chill of the air against your wet skin leaves your nipples hard and sensitive, and as he leads you to the bedroom, you hope he realizes just what it is you’re asking for. His fingers are a plentiful start, and you just know they’ll feel so good stuffed inside you, curling to hit all the right places, —but they’re nothing compared to the cock he’s stingily hidden away for all this time.

Tonight, you want him in all his glory in the glow of the lanterns on the walls. You want to strip him bare and gag on the length between his thighs, feel him twitch against the roof of your mouth, tease every vein that runs up his shaft. It’s not enough to grind against him while you’re half asleep or hump his clothed thigh until you’ve left his pants damp and your pussy sopping, just begging to be fucked by this man who might just love you more than he could ever fear any virus that lurks outside these walls.

“Don’t fret,” he tells you, though it sounds more like a command than a gesture to soothe any worries, “just lie back. I’ll be sure to give you. . . A proper examination.”

You could cum just hearing that.

With half your body pressed against the headboard and his coat nearly slipping off your body completely, he sets to work in his underclothes and mask. It’s by no means an uncommon sight, but there’s something distinct about him this late evening; the way his black attire contrasts so beautifully with the stark paleness of his skin and the mystery it shrouds him in that you’re just dying to sink your teeth into. Everything hidden beneath that cautious wardrobe and that long mask. . . You’ve gotta have it. It’s a necessity.

His fingers, ungloved, begin softly with your calves, tracing senseless lines.

“I’m not so fragile,” you remind him.

For as oblivious as he can be, Lucian takes the hint, and by the time he’s reached your thighs, he’s content to give them the same treatment as your throat.

The way he splits you apart is almost painfully clinical, a thumb on either side of your lips, peering through the eye holes of his mask to admire the way your folds glisten in the orange lantern light. A few prodding strokes leave you biting your lip again, body waning in anticipation for the moment he finally turns his hand over and sinks the longest of his fingers inside you, —slowly, but deliberately. It’s impossible to see his expression, but you hope his mouth hangs open a little at the way your cunt suckles on his finger, encouraging him to prod more and maybe stuff another few inside for you to grind against.

There’s something about the warmth of his fingers that gets you off almost in equal amounts to the way he moves. Another finger inside, and you whine, halfway to an orgasm from this alone.

He’s not particulary rough in his execution, but there’s a clean meticulousness in every movement that leaves every cell in your body craving more, begging for anything he can offer. Months upon months of wanting, of dropping hints, of hoping he’d catch on and finally see things your way, —and at last, you’ve made it. And now that you’re here, you’re content to simply lie still and let him have his way with you.

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, nearly choking on the words when the tips of his fingers brush just the right spot.

“Before you’re satisfied?” He sits forward a bit, resting his free hand on your stomach to press you down onto the bed. “Darling, I couldn’t fathom it.”

You will your upper body forward, grabbing for the hand on your stomach to move it up to your throat. He squeezes, scissoring the fingers inside you, watching closely as your body shakes and your eyes roll back a bit in ecstasy.

“I’ve tried,” he says to you suddenly. “I’ve tried so desperately to be gentle with you.”

You smile.

“I appreciate that,” you answer. “But I don’t want you to be gentle at the moment.”

“That’s a dangerous request, my love,” he warns.

God, you hope so.

You reach forward and grab at the beak of his mask, pulling it upward gently until it begins to slip off and reveal the handsome face underneath. Dark hair, dark eyes, but skin almost pale enough to be sickly, you meet his gaze just long enough to ask for permission, then lean in to kiss him on the mouth. It’s the first time, and it’s electric. He’s avoided this for months, —avoided your mouth, your unspoken pleas, all the passes you made for the sake of keeping himself at bay. But here you are now with two of his fingers stuffed inside you, his hand on your throat, and your lips slotted against his own.

“Please,” you murmur, fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt.

And you can feel the restraints of his mind come unwound.

He’s no longer gentle in the way he fucks you silly with his fingers, hammering them over and over and over again into that delicious spot buried deep inside you, squeezing your throat hard enough to cut your breathing off. The way your pussy spasms as you cum is blissful, and he loves the way your arousal soaks his digits, loves the way your back arches, soundless moans spilling forth as he makes you orgasm.

“I fucking tried,” he says again.

It’s almost manic, so desperate and sort of pathetic in the kind of way that turns you on. This is the first time you’ve ever heard him curse, and it dawns on you that even the filthiest of words sound so unendingly elegant when they’re spoken by Lucian.

“I tried to be gentle. I tried to keep you safe here, —to shelter you from whatever forsaken wasteland remains out there,” he insists, his fingers still buried in your twitching cunt. “I just wanted to protect you.”

He lightens the grip on your throat as you lean in to kiss him again, cupping his face in your hands.

“You have,” you assure him.

“You take such good care of me, Lucian,” you mumble into his ear. “Let me show you how grateful I am.”

The fingers stuffed inside you slowly slip out, and reach for his hand, guiding them to your lips, taking his digits into your mouth to taste yourself on them. He watches with hunger and interest as you clean him with your tongue. He leans in to kiss you to get a taste of it himself, grasping your hair near the scalp and taking a fistful hard enough to make you gasp.

“I can’t let you leave,” he murmurs. “It’s not safe out there. When this pestilence has been subdued, I’ll do this all correctly. We can start from the beginning, and I’ll be a gentleman.”

“I look forward to it,” you answer softly.

“You’ll stay until then?” He inquires.

He’s clearly overreacting, but it’s hard to care when you just want him inside you. Lucian has seen death day in and day out, —so it’s no wonder it feels like it permeates everything around him. He just doesn’t want you to suffer such a fate, and you’re confident that you won’t, as long as he’s yours.

“Of course I will,” you answer.

It’s like something primal takes over. Suddenly his lips are on yours in a bruising kiss, and his hands are grasping roughly at your breasts, pushing you down onto the bed as he crawls between your legs. He pauses, hovering just above your dripping cunt, turning his head to sink his teeth into the meat of your thigh. It makes you squeal a bit, and he kisses the teethmarks he left behind as if in apology.

You can’t help but wonder how long he’s been yearning for this. It’s like every part of him is thrumming from the thrill of it all, and this man who has previously refused to even kiss you on the mouth is now stationed exactly where you want him, tongue lolling out to lick a solid stripe up your folds. He laps like a man starved, then spreads you apart with his thumbs to suck your clit mercilessly.

It’s good enough to make your vision go blurry, and you can’t seem to form proper words through the haze. Desperately, your fingers claw at the sheets of this mattress, and he moans against your hot cunt, sending a vibration rippling through your core that makes your back arch on instinct. You mumble something that comes out like gibberish, pussy convulsing against the flat of his tongue.

His arm comes round to press your hips down, forcing you to be still. It’s the kind of toruture you’re sure you’ll learn to live for. There’s only so much you can wriggle under his arm, which has a surprising amount of force despite his rather lanky stature.

From what little friction you manage as you attempt to grind against his tongue, you tip yourself over the edge and as the knot in your stomach unties for the second time tonight, he continues licking, lapping at the juices that spill forth.

He stands and reaches for the top button of his shirt, not bothering to wipe his face, chin and lips glistening with your aftermath. You watch him undress with lustful eyes, propping yourself up on your elbow, then slinking back against the headboard once again, resting your weary body against it. The quiver of your thighs doesn’t stop you from nudging at your swollen clit.

“I wanted to be a gentleman,” he comments, untucking the shirt from his pants and pulling the front open.

It’s not skin you haven’t seen before. In fact, you’ve seen every inch of him at one point or another; just never all at once, and now, you’re waiting with bated breath to see him completely exposed for your eyes only.

“I truly did. I wanted to give you comfort and security, —to love you as you deserve. And I knew from the moment I saw you that only I could give you exactly what you’ve always needed.”

You hum in acknowledgement as he continues to strip himself bare.

“But it’s so clear to me now that I’ve neglected you,” he continues. “This beautifully desperate display is all a result of my negligence. . . I failed to realize just how much you needed me like this. How much you needed the touch of a man. . .”

He sounds apologetic, but your eyes are fixated on his half-hard cock. The last time you saw it, he asked that you keep your mouth away; insisting it wasn’t sanitary to use it for such purposes, terrified that you might contract some sort of illness if you sucked his dick for the sheer enjoyment of doing so. This time, however, you have a feeling you’re well past that.

To test the waters, you let your hand fall away from your cunt, slipping off the side of the bed to kneel before him. He gazes down at you as you open your lips and let your tongue fall out, encouraging him to make what he will of it.

“My love,” he says, placing four fingers under your chin to rest his thumb against your tongue for a moment, “—I’ll make everything up to you. . .”

His free hand pumps his cock once, twice, thrice, —then he places it gently on the flat of your tongue, letting you feel the weight and the warmth of it. He sighs.

“Darling,” he groans, “ah. . .”

It takes very little for him to come close to cumming in your mouth, just a few minutes of sucking him off, listening to him moan, feeling him quiver at your touch. You hum with his member stuffed down your throat, and he cants his hips reflexively, an orgasm bubbling up beneath his skin.

Your non-dominant hand holds his cock steady while the other is stuck between your thighs, rubbing furiously at your clit, making you whimper along his shaft. When he notices, Lucian finds that wholly unacceptable and snatches you up to position you on the edge of the bed, relieving the pressure on your aching knees. You weren’t down there for long, but kneeling was hardly comfortable on the hard floor.

He spreads your thighs apart and smacks the pads of his fingers against your slit.

Whatever he’s doing, you’re sure you’ll enjoy it to the fullest, so you occupy yourself with his cock again from this new angle, bending awkwardly to mouth at the reddened tip. His fingers find their way inside you once more, working their delicate magic, brushing against all the right places. At this point, you’re more desperate for his dick to slip inside you like this, but you take what he offers in stride (and more of him into your mouth in the process.)

He’s vocal, and that’s utterly divine. His gravely moans and the pump of his fingers leave you cumming for a third time before his first orgasm arises, depositing a sizable amount of his seed into your mouth.

“I love you,” he huffs, —and if he were anyone else, you’d be certain it was just the oral sex talking, but no. . . Lucian wouldn’t have said it if he didn’t mean it.

Of course, he’s made similar confessions over the months, and has certainly treated you like it long before he ever expressed it so directly, but still. . . It feels nice to hear it, if nothing else.

“I love you too,” you answer honestly, urging him closer with your arms wrapped around his neck. “I’m yours tonight, completely. . . If you’ll have me. . .”

“Oh, darling, don’t be foolish,” he remarks, kissing you deeply. “You’ve been mine since the moment we met.”

Your back to the cool sheets, he lingers over you now, his shadow looming over you so monstrously. There’s a stark flush of red on his face that has begun to spread down the length of his neck, and one of his hands finds its way to your breasts as the other smoothes across your thigh. The head of his cock kisses your sopping entrance, sending a series of chills from the top of your spine to the bottom.

His breath on your neck makes your chest tighten, and he finds your lips with his own again as he sinks inside you, filling you up.

“Lucian,” you whimper, helpless to his touch as he pauses, buried down to the hilt inside your cunt.

He presses a few gentle kisses to your throat, murmuring something about how nice it feels to be stuffed inside you. He feels your nails dig into his shoulders as you adjust to his intrusion.

“You must understand by now,” he says, mumbling the words right next to your bitten earlobe. “Everything I do is for you.”

“I do,” you gasp slightly.

As he begins to move, your walls clench around him, and he exhales deeply against the junction of your neck and shoulder. You roll your hips to match his pace, but as he goes faster, that becomes fruitless. Eventually, you resign yourself to the fate of lying there against the pillows, speared on his cock, him making a mess of you as you moan uncontrollably.

This was everything you’d been hoping for and then some, like some erotic dream come to life. Lucian’s lips travel where they please, —stopping to peck at your jaw, then to suck on your throat. Your breathing is haggard, and he smooths a hand down your side, resting it against your hip for a moment.

“Just a little more,” he whispers, as if to be reassuring.

“Just look how stunning you are, angel,” he murmurs, “how pretty you look like this.”

He kisses you once more.

“You take this so well, like your body was made for me.”

You’re delirious enough to believe that might be the case.

His cock pounds a little harder, and he hits the perfect spot, tearing a desperate yelp from your throat. You’re overstimulated and weak, but your high is itching just under your skin, and you couldn’t bear to see it disappear.

“Please,” you whimper to him, completely at his mercy, “—please, I’m so close.”

He loves the desperation that clings to your voice. The hand on your hip travels to your clit, pressing roughly against the abused little button, making you jerk slightly. He rubs a few heavy circles against it, and you come undone, cunt spasming around his cock as he chases his own release inside you.

Lucian is sloppy near the end, which may just be the only time you’ve ever known him to not be perfectly calculated and precise. His breath hits your neck again, over and over as he huffs through the hunt, finally sinking his teeth in when he comes to a finish. His cum sits hot inside your cunt, and he catches his breath for a moment, head resting against your throat.

“I apologize,” he utters. “I hope that wasn’t too much for you.”

You exhale slowly, his cock still buried in your heat.

“Don’t apologize,” you murmur, “I enjoyed myself.”

You feel him smile against your neck.

“I’m glad, darling.”

For the first time, he sleeps next to you without clothing, letting you touch every part of him, tangling your limbs together. Your face buried in the crook of his neck, breath fanning softly against him, as close to sleep as you can manage without tumbling over the precipice, Lucian reaches for his long coat and drapes it over your body, holding you closer.

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