Rogues Kink Drabbles

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/12357900.

Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Rape/Non-Con
Categories: M/M, F/M
Fandoms: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Batman: Arkham
(Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types, Batman (Movies -
Nolan)
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma, Harvey Dent/Edward Nygma, Edward
Nygma/Bruce Wayne, Edward Nygma/Reader, Harvey Dent/Reader,
Selina Kyle/Edward Nygma, Bane/Reader, Music Meister/Reader,
Oswald Cobblepot/Harvey Dent, Jonathan Crane/Reader, Ra's al
Ghul/Slade Wilson, George "Digger" Harkness/Reader, Jonathan
Crane/Harleen Quinzel, Edward Nygma/Slade Wilson, Waylon
Jones/Reader
Characters: Edward Nygma, Riddler, Jonathan Crane, Scarecrow, Harvey Dent,
Poison Ivy, Pamela Isley, Bruce Wayne, Batman, Oswald Cobblepot,
Bane (DCU), Music Meister, George "Digger" Harkness, Roman Sionis,
Black Canary (DCU), Harleen Quinzel, Ra's al Ghul, Slade Wilson,
Waylon Jones, Killer Croc
Additional Tags: Lapdance, Coming Untouched, Body Worship, Blow Jobs, Praise,
Choking, Hand Jobs, Groping, Orgasm Control, Sensation Play,
Masturbation, Painplay, Hands-free Orgasm, Exhibitionism, Spanking,
Cunnilingus, Dacryphilia, Fucking Machines
Language: English
Series: Part 12 of Gotham Rogues Kink Series
Stats: Published: 2017-10-14 Completed: 2024-03-26 Words: 64,683 Chapters:
92/92
 Rogues Kink Drabbles
by DittyWrites

Summary

A series of kink drabbles which i've been prompted for. I will add pairings/tags as i update.
 Twiddler - Lap Dance

The fluttering of his open shirt caused a pleasant breeze to run across his exposed torso as
Edward walked slowly towards the leather armchair which housed the object of his
intentions. His green suit had been slowly discarded to an undignified heap on the floor but
he had elected to keep on his royal purple shirt, white boxers and sock garters as he swayed
in position.

“See something you like, Harv?”

Bending over provocatively, he snapped the elastic on his sock garters and smirked as they
resulting twang drew Harveys’ eyes across his ass and down his legs before snapping up to
meet his eyes again.

To his credit, Harvey had succeeded in creating a stony look which gave away nothing of his
feelings but it was difficult to hide the tent which was pressing against his slacks, a result of
the slow yet enjoyable striptease he was being subjected to.

A low noise of non-committal caused Edward to narrow his eyes and, bending down into the
space of the armchair, he allowed the shirt to open fully as he placed one hand on Harveys’
scarred lips as the other palmed his obvious bulge.

“Oh,” he exclaimed in mock surprise, “it would appear that you do, despite your obvious
reluctance to admit it.” His eyes darted around Harveys’ face, a look of mischief entering his
expression as his hand rested on Harveys’ rock-hard thighs. “It is a very inviting space you
have here, mind if I take a seat?”

Turning around and leaning back against the solid mass of Harveys’ chest, Edward reclined
his head until it lay in the crook of his neck. The harsh scarring was an interesting sensation
and he moved his cheek along it, allowing the rough flesh to rub against the smoothness of
his own. Pressing his ass down slightly, he allowed it to trace against the hard lump of
Harveys’ trapped cock, eliciting a groan from the seated figure.

“Fucking tease.” Harvey bit out from between his clenched teeth as he fought the urge to
buck up against the invading warmth.

Emboldened by the words, Edward brought his arms up and laced them around the back of
Harveys’ neck which both pulled him closer and also anchored him into place as he pressed
down firmly on Harveys’ crotch with his ass. Grinding in a circle to maximize friction, he
allowed a few soft moans to escape from his lips as he encouraged Harvey to make a move.

Almost immediately, large hands made themselves known on his hips as Harvey bucked up to
meet him with enthusiasm as his short breaths quickened in his ear.

“C'mon, Harvey,” Edwards’ tone was sultry as he gasped, “faster! I thought you were better
than this.”
As a growl rang out in his ears, Edwards’ felt the hands on his hips tighten to the point that it
was almost painful as Harvey dug his fingers through his shirt and into his flesh, rubbing
himself against him. In response, Edward wrapped his fingers around the short hair at the
nape of Harveys’ neck and pulled on it harshly while he applied rough kisses to his tilted
neck.

“Fuck, Eddie! I think i’m gonna-” Harvey grunted, voice hoarse with his desire.

Adding a flourish to his movements, despite the hands holding him still, Edward gave an
extra hard yank on Harveys’ hair.

“Then do it.” He hissed.

Needing no further encouragement, Harveys’ thrusting intensified and Edward pushed back
as hard as he could given his limited space. Just as he was about to make a comment, a
sudden pain in his neck alerted him to the fact that Harvey had bitten the sensitive spot just
below his ear and he gasped in surprise as the erratic jerking against his ass reached a fever
pitch before coming to a slow stop as Harvey reached his hands-free climax.

As Harvey slumped back in the chair, his hands left Edwards’ hips as a long exhale of
satisfaction was broken by a throaty chuckle.

“You’ll be paying for the dry cleaning on these pants, Eddie.” Harvey muttered, wrapping an
arm around the figure on his lap and allowing him to lay against his chest comfortably as
they both faced the far-off wall. “We did enjoy the show though.”

“Excellent,” Edward announced before taking Harveys’ hand in his own and guiding it to his
own erection, which has been woefully ignored in favour of teasing the other man, “then
you’ll also have no complaints in dealing with this issue.”

Bearing his teeth in a wolfish grin, Harvey was no stranger to reward and punishment and, as
he snaked his hand down Edwards’ torso towards his cock, he supposed that Edward
probably did deserve something nice.
 Scriddler - Body Worship

“You really are quite beautiful.”

Running the tips of his fingers along the prominent jut of Jonathans’ collarbone, a shudder
racked Edward as his eyes drank in the wonderful sight beneath him. Jonathans’ eyes were
fully closed, feigning sleep, but from the way his breath halted at the spoken mantra Edward
knew that he was paying close attention to his actions.

With reverence, Edward lifted Jonathans’ hand from its limp position on the bed and brought
it up to his face for closer inspection. The long, thin digits were the stuff of children’s fears,
the hands of an evil entity come to snatch them up from their loving homes, but Edward has
always been fascinated by the delicious potential which each digit held, and that was without
mentioning the pleasure which they could bring. As the flashes of said encounters accosted
him, he led the tip of the thumb closer to his mouth to allow him to nip gently at its sensitive
pad.

A low purr escaped the body beneath him and Edward replaced the hand as he concentrated
back on the exposed torso, tapping his fingers across each prominent rib as he worked his
way down.

“Beautiful.”

“Do you mean it?”

Surprised by the muttered question, Edward bent down until his lips were besides Jonathans’
ear as he responded.

“Every word.”

He paused as a wicked idea came to mind.

“Would you like to see the extent of my appreciation?”

One eye cracked open in interest and Edward licked his lips suggestively before slipping his
body lower so that his head could rest on Jonathans’ thigh while his growing hardness
pressed against the soft sheets of the bed.

The thin sheet did little to cover the obvious erection which Jonathan possessed and as
Edward pulled the sheet down further it sprang free, exposed to the cool night air. Laying
both his hands on Jonathans’ inner thighs, Edward massaged the area softly as his lips came
to rest atop one of the many scars which littered the older mans’ body.

Following the direction of the scar with his tongue, he licked his way up the exposed thigh
leaving a thin trail of saliva as he slowly ran his hands across every available piece of skin.
“So beautiful.” He exhaled, making sure that he voice was heard as he took Jonathans’ length
into his expectant mouth. At the gesture, the body under his hands jerked with the unexpected
pleasure and he removed his hands from Jonathans’ thighs and instead hooked his thumbs
into the hollows of his hips as he continued his work.

A few quick bobs of the head mixed with some well-experienced and talented tongue work
was all it took to help Jonathan find his release and Edward was quick to swallow everything
which he had brought into being. Taking a moment to catch his breath, he glanced upwards to
find Jonathan watching him, his face flush from his recent orgasm and his eyes full of a hazy
warmth.

“Beautiful.”
 Scriddler - Breath Play

Secured in position, Edward could only release a pathetic whimper as Jonathan looped the
leather belt around his neck while his free hand gently stroked up and down Edwards’ hard
length.

“That looks almost painful,” Jonathan commented almost playfully, “do you think you
deserve my help?” His hand circled the base of Edwards’ cock and as he asked the question
he tightened his grip to ensure that he held Edwards’ full attention.

“No,” Edward confessed with a sharp gasp as he jumped at the sudden pain, “but it would be
appreciated.”

“Brat.” Hissing as a smirk played at the corner of his lips, Jonathan knew he would enjoy this
almost as much as Edward would. Edward had asked, after all.

Ensuring that his grip on the wide strap of leather was tight, Jonathan pulled on the belt with
enough strength to ensure that Edwards’ windpipe was almost fully blocked and the effect
was instantaneous as the cock in his hand jerked with a renewed vigour as Edward started to
choke.

His impish face took on a delicate shade of red which grew as the seconds ticked on and no
fresh oxygen was allowed to enter his system. The intelligent green eyes, captivating in their
ability to quantify the world, started to bulge and water in desperation and if it weren’t for the
glazed flashes of lust Jonathan would almost be tempted to relent.

Fisting his hand, he started to jerk Edward off again while paying close attention to the shade
of his skin and the level of awareness in his eyes.

The feeling of the belt around his neck was obscenely erotic and as he struggled to take a
breath, Edward moaned internally as he was confronted by Jonathans’ look of sadistic
interest as he was slowly strangled. He could feel his blood roaring in his ears as the lack of
oxygen and pleasure from his stimulated cock combined until nothing but the overwhelming
sensation remained.

He was vaguely aware of a small touch of drool escaping the corner of his mouth, his
inability to keep his mouth closed stripping him of some dignity, as he thrust into Jonathans’
talented hand. Restraints prevented him from moving his hands or feet and he started to trash
against them as white spots touched at the fringe of his vision and the first real feelings of
panic took root in his gut as he wondered if Jonathan knew when to stop.

This new fear added another layer of pleasure to his predicament and just as he felt the
sensation of Jonathan rubbing his palm across the unbearably sensitive head of his cock, the
tension from the belt was released and as the first gulps of air reached his aching lungs a long
whine escaped his throat as his orgasm hit.
His vision went black for a moment, the combined surge of pleasure and much-needed air
overtaking his senses as Jonathan continued to run his fist along his length, the
overstimulation causing him as much pain as pleasure as he rode out the waves.

Falling limp against the sheets beneath him after a few moments, Edward took in shaky
breaths as he attempted to regulate his breathing.

Pleased with the fact that Jonathan had not accidentally strangled him to death, he opened his
eyes wide and gave his partner a lazy grin.

“You should know, dear,” he offered hoarsely as he gave a showman wink, “that in all our
time together, belt or no belt, you never have struggled to leave me absolutely breathless.”

Jonathan simply rolled his eyes.

 Scriddler - Sex Pollen

Pausing at the door of her greenhouse, Ivy was accosted by the silent warnings of her plants
that her space had been intruded on. Holding her ear to the door, the vague sounds of
shuffling was interspersed with an odd grunting which signaled that their was at least one
offender.

Ivy straightened to her full height as a feeling of rage swept through her. Whomever had been
so bold as to intrude on her private greenhouse was going to be turned to mulch and used to
feed her babies for the new few weeks.

The door swung open with considerable force as she pushed her way in, arms raised in
preparation of a fight, and quickly ran to the center of her greenhouse where her workbench
lay.

Only to be confronted by the kneeling visage of Jonathan Crane, face mottled red and twisted
in pleasure, as the equally blushed Edward Nygma knelt behind him. His hips were moving
at a rapid pace and even from this distance, Ivy was able to detect the scent of sweat and sex
which hung in the air, giving her beautiful temple to nature itself the aroma of a cheap
brothel.

“What the hell?!” Screeching, she flung her hands out and summoned her vines with as much
mental force as she could muster. Following her commands to the letter, her vines slid across
the floor and pulled the two apart, mummifying them fully to ensure that their hands and feet
and…other appendages were locked into place. “WHAT IN THE FRESH HELL?” She
repeated.

“Ivy,” Edward panted, his eyes aware but oddly glazed, “thank heavens yo-”

“You were fucking in MY HOUSE?” Interrupting him, she was actually unable to fully
process what she had just witnessed. “MY HOUSE?!”

“Ivy, I just want to say that if Jonathan had not intended to steal your chem-”

“Do not attempt to blame this fiasco on me, Edward.” Jonathan interrupted, his own eyes
glazed but with an unmistakable look of relief. “Dr. Isley, Edward was the one who touched
the test tub-”

“Et tu, Jonathan? If you had not given me a childish fright I would not have drop-”

“ENOUGH!” Ivy interrupted, tired of their childish bickering before a sudden flash of panic
crossed her features, “Wait, was it a long test tube? Contents green and almost like pollen?”

Edward was silent for a moment before issuing a quiet, “Yes.”

“Idiots,” she hissed, “you are both absolute idiots.” Balling her fists, she refused to see the
funny side of this. “That pollen was not for you! It was me and Harl-,” she cut herself off, “it
was not for you! You are lucky that I possess an antidote.”

“If it is any conciliation to you,” Jonathan offered, looking very grateful, “both Edward and I
are quite severely dehydrated and we do appreciate the assist.”

Caught off-guard, Ivy blinked. “Wait, how long have you both been in here?”

“Since 2pm.” Edward confessed, tone pained.

Glancing at the nearby clock and the small hand which was pointing straight at nine, Ivy
threw her head back and gave a resounding chuckle.

“Well, that’ll teach you thieves for crawling around in MY garden.”

 RiddleBat - Restraints

Pulling his wrists down against the restraints, Edward at least had the good grace to look
abashed as he watched Bruce approach him from the shadows.

“I know how this looks,” cutting in before Bruce could speak, Edward was quick to defend
himself, “and I want you to know that I am the victim here.”

Pausing, Bruce tilted his head in a disbelieving fashion.

“I'm sure you are, Eddie.” A slight pause before he added. “And how did you lose your
shirt?”

Whatever Bruce had been expecting when he tracked his missing partners trail to this
location, it certainly had not been this. Edward, shirtless, and vertically bound to an oversized
carriage wheel with cheap rope.

“Those cult-obsessed neuron-lacking fools took it,” Edward explained, a slight chill causing
him to shudder, “and it was one of my good shirts too.”

Ignoring the lamentations, Bruce dutifully bent down and with two quick swipes of his
batarang sliced through the ropes which held Edwards' legs in their spread position, allowing
the genius to gain a solid footing on the ground.

“Thank you, dear.”

“Did they hurt you?”

“No, no,” Edward assured, arms still bound above his head, “but they were considering
tearing out my brain and offering it to their false god. Which I suppose makes sense given the
incredible power which my cortex holds. Lucky for me, however, the dark knight was here to
save me in time.”

“Who said i'm here to save you?” Despite his face being covered and his tone never shifting,
the teasing Bruces' statement was clear. “What if I like you tied up like this?”

“Wouldn't be the first time,” Edward responded as a high blush appeared on his cheeks, “for
either of us.” He amended.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Starting at the bound wrists, Bruce ran his gloved hands down Edwards' arms before circling
his waist and travelling back up to his jaw.

“Bruce...” Edward growled, “if those cultists come back and attempt to cannibalize my brain
because you were feeling promiscuous...”

“I can take them.”

“Of that I have no doubt, but I do not want the last image these fools get to see is one of-”

Without allowing him to finish, Bruce leaned in and caught his furious words in a soothing
kiss.

Breathing through his nose as he responded to the kiss, all Edward could smell was the
leather of the cowl as its cool smoothness pressed against his nose and cheek. His inability to
move his hands meant that he had to use his upper torso to push forward and gain some
purchase as the cool sensation of Bruces' gloves came to rest on his slim hips.

A stirring of warmth in his lower gut alerted Edward to the fact that he was getting hard and
he mentally cursed the other man for putting him in this position.

Pulling away from this kiss, he indicated down with a sharp nod and raised his eyebrows at
the slight flush which he could detect from just below the edge of the cowl.

“Bruce, dear,” his tone was honeyed, “current light of my life and bane of my existence,
unless you are going to do something about this,” he aimed his chin downwards at his crotch,
“then I suggest we get going.”

“This?”

Edward gasped and balled his hands into fists within his bonds as Bruce dragged his hand
along his half-hard bulge with a wicked firmness.

“Yes! That!”

“Hmm,” Bruce pondered, “I suppose it would be only fair since you're in this mess because
of me. Okay, i'll let you free but only after another kiss.”

“We have an agreement then.”

As Bruce again pressed his lips insistently against his own, Edward supposed that their were
worst fates to be had. However, as soon as the thought had crossed his mind, a new weight
against his crotch caused him to bite back a groan as he realised that Bruce had slid his hand
between his legs and was rubbing him as he was pinned into place.

Edwards' lips broke away for just long enough to allow him to mutter something which
vaguely sounded like 'cheater' before returning to their kiss. The friction against his trapped
cock felt wonderful and his concerns about the return of the cult he had been investigating
faded away as he concentrated on the pleasure at hand.

“If you enjoy seeing me tied as much half as much as I enjoy seeing you tied up,” Edward
growled into Bruces' ear as he tried to regulate his breathing, “then I am more than happy to
forgive this little indiscretion.”

“I figure you deserve a reward for all your amazing detective work,” Bruce muttered back,
“so shut up, Eddie, and enjoy it for what its worth.”
The alternation of Bruces' ministrations, from a hard massage which left him breathless, to
the soft, stroking that managed to draw a whimper from his lips, left Edward approaching his
climax far faster than his pride would admit to and a final kiss from Bruce was met with a
particularly rough flourish was his undoing.

As his orgasm hit, he masked his cry by jerking forward and burying his head in Bruce's
covered shoulders, the scent of his synthetic armour becoming almost unbearable, as his hips
bucked uncontrollably.

With Bruce fully supporting his weight as he came, Edward spared a tiny thought for his poor
shirt which had already left him and these trousers which would soon also be sent to the
trash.

Bruce could buy him new ones, after all, he did have the money.
 Scriddler - Jealousy

The door had not swung fully shut before Jonathan felt his body being pushed against the
hallway wall and a small grunt of surprise caught him as his back slammed against the
smooth wallpaper.

“What the hell do you thi-”

His exclamation was cut short by Edwards' insistent lips upon his own as his warm body
pressed against him, effectively trapping him in position. Surprised, he hesitated for a
moment before kissing back but the ferocity of the sudden attack left him with a distinct
feeling that Edward was somehow attempting to devour him, rather than kiss him.

The sensation of warm hands circling his wrists and pinning them to the wall accosted him
and he pulled away from the kiss to give Edward a searching look.

Their evening had been an enjoyable one and he had even encountered an old flame, a girl he
attended university and entered into an ill-fated short-term relationship with, but as he
mentally went over the events of the night he could detect no reason why Edward was in such
an aggressive state of mind.

Peering into the flushed face which was suspended a few inches below his own, Jonathan
locked his gaze with Edwards' expectantly as he attempted to work out the issue at hand. The
aggression had suggested that Edward was angry with him but as he read his expression he
could see that Edwards' eyes lacked the usual spark which belied his rage.

This was something else.

It took him a moment to place but, with the power of hindsight, it was obvious.

Jealousy.

Angers' insidious little companion.

The feeling of Edwards' hand disappeared on his right wrist but Jonathan was so preoccupied
with his thoughts that he paid it little attention and made no attempt to move.

That was until a twinge of pain in his groin caused him to make a noise of discomfort and he
could feel the ends of Edwards' fingers digging into his vulnerable flesh.

“Edward-” Jonathan went to warn him off but Edward was quick to interrupt.

“Normally I would resent having to be so crass,” every word held its own emphasis as
Edward demanded his entire attention with his clipped tone, “but just so we are clear. This is
mine. Everything within my grasp and outside it is mine. As I am yours.”

Edwards' possessiveness was typically much less overt that this, the genius preferring a
tactfully placed hand or tone of voice to show his displeasure, and this new aggressiveness
caused a tug of desire to pull at Jonathans' gut.

“Are we clear?” Edward demanded.

Not one to back down from a challenge, Jonathan held his ground.

“I do not recall ever agreeing to such a statement.”

Growling his lack of amusement, Edward gave a threatening squeeze and it took every ounce
of Jonathans' will to not unleash a soft groan. He could feel his lust causing his hands to
tremble and he forced them flat against the wall to cease it.

“Are. We. Clear?” His tone bordering no humour as he repeated the question, Edward was
serious and Jonathan as quick to understand that his answer, however serious or flippant he
made it, was important.

“I am yours,” Jonathan conceded, briefly wondering if this was headed in the direction of
actual sex or if he would be forced to use his own hand as Edward stormed off to bed, “as
much as you are mine. No more, no less.”

Grasp releasing just a touch, a look of pleasure shot through Edwards' jealous gaze as
Jonathans' words confirmed his needs.

“Good answer.”
 Riddler - Begging/Delayed Gratification

The scent of sweat and cheap leather hung in the air as you bend down to ruffle his hair with
mock affection but your hand comes away damp as you accidentally brush the small beads of
sweat which decorate his forehead.

“Really, Edward? We've barely even started and you're already sweating.”

Kneeling on the bed, his arms were wrapped together from the elbow down and held out
almost horizontally behind his back, leaving him helpless, vulnerable, and absolutely
beautiful for it. His knees were spread as instructed and his cock was held in place by a black
ring which was clipped around its base, allowing him to experience every sensation without
the luxury of coming.

The repeated edgings had left his face a mottled red shade, his torso heaving as he fought
constantly to regulate his breathing, and the smallest amount of pre-come had gathered on the
tip of his cock, pre-come which you use a finger to spread around before running your hand
along the shaft as you prepare another round of edging.

Pressing the hitachi wand against his bound cock, you delight in the the garbled noise which
gets caught in his throat as he both tries to escape the endless vibrations which also
attempting to buck against it. Moving the wand along his shaft in an upwards direction, you
pause just before reaching his super sensitive cock head as the jerking of his thighs
intensifies, signalling his incoming orgasm.

Removing the wand instantly to delay his gratification you are treated to a stifled whine of
desperation as his pleading eyes quickly meet your own.

“Please-”

“Please, what?”

“I need,” pausing to catch his breath, you drink in the look of torment in his eyes as he
struggles to articulate his words, “I need-”

“More?” You ask, voice deceptively sweet. “Then you just need to ask for it?”

“Please?” He begs, his desperation overriding his natural pride as he seeks out the relief he
needs.

“Again.”

“Please!”

The added emphasis to the word was met with a full jerk of his body as you ran your finger
along one of the prominent veins which was standing out against his shaft.

Relenting, you allow a soft smile to turn up the corners of your lips.
“Well since you asked so nicely...”

Removing the cock ring with a rough swiftness, you quickly reapply the hitachi to the now-
twitching end of his cock, turning it up fully to ensure that the strongest level of vibration
was racking through him.

Almost immediately, you feel his cock spasm as his orgasm hits, his come erupting over your
fist and his own stomach as he groans and writhes in pleasure. Determined to prolong the
experience, you keep a firm grip of the wand to prevent him from escaping its vibrations as
he is finally allowed to come.

You smile, knowing that as soon as he has finished, the cock ring will be reapplied and
another round will begin.

His begging was good, but you know he can do so much better.
 Edward Nygma - Pain (Burlap)

Plastering a false smile onto his face as he waved away his final client of the day, Edward
was grateful that everyone he had encountered today had been preoccupied with their own
nonsense to pay him too much attention. If they had dedicated him more than a minuscule
amount of focus then he had no doubt that they would have been quick to pick up on the pain
he was in.

His nipples were burning so fiercely that he was convinced that they must have drawn blood
by now and his cock had reached a level of sensitivity where he had to fight the urge to gasp
every time he moved too much. But the pleasure he was feeling, the pleasure which had his
cock painfully hard, was worth it. He had been assigned a task and he would complete it.

The squares of thick burlap which had been sewn into his vest, lying directly across his
nipples, and his briefs, which were a size smaller than he preferred to wear, had ensured that
his day was spent in a torrid mixture of pain and arousal. The burlap had initially provided a
somewhat pleasant stimulation to his body but as the hours had passed and the fabric
constantly rubbed against his unprotected skin it had soon dissolved into a maddening burn
which was torturous with its unyielding presence.

Unbuttoning his shirt, and ensuring that his office door was locked, he pulled it apart and
plucked the vest from his body so that he could view the damage. His nipples were a deep red
shade and the skin around them was mottled and as he ran a hand along his left nipple the
soothing smoothness of his skin caused a moan to break free from his lips.

Loosening his trousers enough that he could slip his hand into his briefs, his knuckles
brushed against the strip of burlap as he ran his hand along his hard length. A small amount
of pre-cum had gathered on the tip and he used it to lubricate his hand as he stroked himself.
The motion caused the irritation which the burlap had caused to flare up as much as it was
soothed and the mixed sensations of pain and pleasure had his breath coming in short bursts.

The hand which remained on his armrest tightened and his fingers dug into the soft leather as
his orgasm came. With an almost pathetic cry, of pleasure or torment he wasn't sure, his
knees jerked enough to slam into the desk as the spurts of warm come erupted over his fist
and lower stomach while he continued to leisurely stroke at his lightly stinging length.

Inhaling deeply as his orgasm ended, he was quick to wipe up the mess with one of the
handkerchiefs which sat inside his top drawer before pulling out his cellphone. Dialing in a
familiar number, he waited for the other person to pick up.

“Edward,” the voice drawled through the speaker with a knowing tone, “I'm surprised you
lasted this long. Did you come?”

“Yes.” Edward answered, voice hoarse from his orgasm and the residual pain in his body.

“Good boy.” The voice almost purred as it hung up.

Faced with a dial-tone, Edward pulled the phone from his ear and gave it a sordid smirk.

He was a good boy.

 Scarecrow - Hands-free Orgasm
Chapter Summary

A very quick and rough drabble which was wrote over the course of two 40min bus
journeys. Enjoy for what it is lmao xx

As he observed the exquisite sight before him, Jonathan tightened his fists against his lab coat
as he resisisted his base desire to loosen his slacks and touch his growing erection.

Eyes impossible wide with the beginnings of tears appearing at the inner corners, the subject
thrashed against their restraints as they fought to escape their plight.

Name unknown, it wasn't common for Jonathan to get to play with a brand new subject but
the anticipation of such fun had found Jonathan feeling...heated.

A desperate gaze darted across the room and Jonathan felt another twitch in his groin as the
panic-stricken eyes met his own. The pupils almost fully dilated, there was nothing but
distress held within them.

No joy.

No confidence.

Delightful in their hopelessness.

The presence of his growing arousal was now straining at his slacks, hidden away from sight
by the flowing material of the lab coat.

Wanting to step things up a notch, Jonathan produced a toxin-filled syringe from his pocket.
A new formula. One less likely to result in respiratory failure with added benefits of stronger
hallucinatory power.

As the syringe approached, the subject slammed their eyes shut.

"Open your eyes or I'll cut them out." Jonathan demanded, his clinical tone made somewhat
raspy by his rapidly drying mouth.

In a flash, their bright eyes were open again and Jonathan coughed back a moan as he was
treated to the sight of pure terror which was now broadcast fully to him as he pushed down
on the plunger.

The effect was immediate.

Screaming, gutteral to the point of inhumanity, pierced the room and Jonathan's breath caught
at the intensity of it as he made a quick mental note through his spiking list to make an
attempt to discover the history of the subject for any potential past traumas.

Shifting his thighs subtly, the slight pressure and friction was enough to elicit a grunt from
him as his throbbing groin recieved some mild stimulation. Almost finding a rhythm with the
delightful noise he continued his ministrations as the basement continued to be filled with the
lamentations of true fear.

Jonathan bit the edge of his thumb and the fingernails of his other hand dug into the fabric of
the lab coat as his finish approached. It only took one particularly raw wail and Jonathans'
eyes closed as he allowed the beautiful cacophony of the despair to wash over him as he
finally peaked.

Too far gone to have any awareness of their captor, the subject continued to bawl their terror
and cower from invisible monsters, playing the part of the unwilling victim beautifully.

Exhaling deeply, Jonathan straightened his back as the last twitches of his orgasm ebbed
away and he gained full control of himself again. Running a hand through his hair he fixed
the front of the lab coat and approached the subject, their dread showing no sign of letting up.

Walking towards the source of the noise, a frown marring his features as he checked his
watch and realised he was behind schedule, Jonathan drew his hand up and brought the
reverse across the cheek of the subject.

The shock of the strike was enough stimulus to send them over the edge of consciousness and
the silence within the small basement was immediate. A sting of pain in his knuckle was
quick to alert Jonathan to the fact that he had broken the skin there and his frown deepened as
he surveyed it.

Now intimately aware of how uncomfortable both his hand and groin, which was slick and
still overly sensitive in an unpleasant manner, felt, a low grumble of distaste erupted from
Jonathan's throat as he took off in direction of the nearest bathroom.

His fun had been had and now the time for the real work had begun.
 Two-Face - Blowjob
Chapter Summary

Definitely should have edited this more but it was a spur of the moment thing that i
wanted to get out before i lost faith in it.

As you watch him stride towards you with purpose, it is in moments like these when you can
understand how he became such a force to be reckoned with.

Harvey Dent, the former District Attorney, and Two-Face, notorious criminal.

Either way you flip the coin, it is easy to understand his success.

The power. The confidence. The rage.

Intoxicating.

He comes to a stop before you and even in the dim light you can see the bulge at his crotch
and you lick your lips in anticipation. He had been attending a 'business' meeting and all it
had taken was a handful of suggestive messages to get him to visit.

Perched on the edge of the bed, you quickly undo his belt and fly before slipping your hands
into his slacks and freeing him, his cock standing to attention in the coolness of the room.
Ignoring it for the moment, you move to stand in front of him before indicating your previous
seat and waiting for him to take it.

Knowing that actions speak louder than words, you drop to your knees before him, leaving
absolutely no doubt as to your intentions as you eye his erection with a hungry gaze.

Sitting before you, lazily stroking his full length as he takes in your new position, Harvey
cracks a smile and it curls the scarring on his left side up to fully expose his pearly-white
teeth.

“That was an important meeting,” he growls but his eyes are alight with desire as he plays the
part he enjoys, “and I had to leave to come and deal with you. What do you want?”

“I want to taste you.” You answer, one hand resting on his knee as the other rubs along his
length.

“What was that?” He demands, hand tightening in your hair and eliciting a groan from your
lips.
“I want to taste you.” You repeat, licking your lips again for effect as you close your hand
and start to stroke him. “I want you to fuck my mouth.”

“Then start working.” His grip lessens a touch, allowing you to lean in fully and begin.

You open your mouth, letting your tongue slip out and explore the tip of his cock. A hiss of
appreciation meets you for your effort and he rocks forward, pushing the tip of his cock
against your lips and even from the soft contact, you can taste the saltiness of his pre-cum.

His hand flutters against your hair, caressing the tips gently before becoming more aggressive
as he grasps a handful of it roughly and pulls your head back, forcing you to look up at him.

“I'm going to fuck your throat.” He warns, voice husky with his desire and there was no
denying the authority of his tone. Not that you would want to as he takes control of you and
you can only give a faint nod.

“Yes, sir.”

Smirking, he pushes against you and your lips stretch around to accommodate his cock as the
familiar taste of him floods your senses. Using your tongue, you greedily suck him in further,
encouraging him into your warm mouth as you begin to suck him. Sliding your hands along
his thighs, you can feel the hard muscle beneath your touch and you dance your fingers along
the sensitive skin where his hips meet his groin.

In response to your ministrations a scarred hand, the one not currently wrapped around your
hair, travels down your collarbone and brushes against your nipple before pinching it between
two fingers. The pads of his fingers, as scarred as his face, added an extra layer of sensation
as the rough flesh tugged at the sensitive buds and all you could do was moan around his
cock. The soft rumblings causing him to do it again as he continued to attack your chest,
alternating between sides.

His cock slides deeper in your mouth as he builds up a pace and you hollow out your cheeks
as you push your head forward, swallowing more of him with every push. Still seated, his
hips buck towards you as he pushes your head forward in a sudden movement and the force
of it is enough to push him past your mouth and two inches down your throat.

Thrusts growing stronger, you squeeze your palm tightly as you fight against your gag reflex,
his erratic movements making your mouth flood with saliva as you struggle to relax your
breathing. Thankfully, he releases his hold of your head after a moment and pulls himself
free.

“Too much?” He asks and, glancing up, you can see the challenge in his eyes.

Running a finger along your lips and feeling the increased puffiness of them, you narrow
your gaze at him as you shake your head in defiance.

He grunts his approval.

“Good.”
Taking his cock in hand, you guide it back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the
incredibly sensitive skin below his head and you are rewarded with a deep growl which sends
a bolt of arousal through you as you take his entire length in one thrust.

You can feel his cock jerk in your throat, his pubic hair tickling the end of your nose, as you
swallow around him. Pulling back again, you set a confident rhythm of taking him deep into
your throat as you use his inner thighs for leverage. Above you, his hips thrust up to meet you
as he uses your willing mouth with little consideration, his growing orgasm causing low
rumblings of pleasure and grunts to escape him with every thrust.

Lost in concentration, your thoughts focus on the telltale signs of his orgasm as his pre-cum
mixes with your saliva as his cock swells within your mouth. Sliding your tongue along his
entire length, you take him in fully and hum appreciatively, knowing that the vibrations
always send him wild.

With a final groan, the hand on your hair tightens almost painfully as he pulls you back to
explode into your mouth, his cock twitching and convulsing as it fills your mouth with cum.
The sudden flood of warmth mixed with the salt creates another flash of desire within you as
you swallow down everything he has to offer.

Tilting your head to rest it on his thigh as you look up as him, a thrill of amusement shoots up
you as you note how red the non-scarred half of his face is. However, your smirk is cut short
as large hands, calloused and scarred beyond belief, wrap around your shoulders and force
you upwards in a stunning display of physicality as Harvey tosses you to the bed.

“Ready for your reward?” He growls, pulling aside his tie as he prepares to strip off his suit ,
“I hope you don't have plans because I am going to fuck you raw.”

“Then you better start working, Mr. Dent.” You answer him, echoing his earlier words and
earning yourself a grin which is absolutely predatory in nature as you continue. “Unless you
can't get it up again.”

Descending on you like a wolf as he snarls at the accusation, he is quick to prove you wrong.

Twice.
 RiddleCat - Tied and Filled
Chapter Notes

I have no recollection of writing this and yet...here it is lmao. Enjoy xx

A whine of discomfort escaped Edward’s throat as Selina tightened the gag in his mouth until
the leather just started to bite into the corners of his lips.

“Uh huh,” Selina muttered into her phone, its position secured between her shoulder and ear
as she continued with the unexpected call, “and would I be able to pick that up soon?” A
pause. “Right now?”

A wicked look entered her eyes as she met Edwards’ expectant and impatient look.

“Right now is fine. I’ll be over in ten, Ivy.”

His arm and legs spread across the bed and held in place by silk ties which were his preferred
method of bondage, Edward was completely at the mercy of the goddess above him and he
now looked at her with scandal in his eyes.

Selina hung the phone up and dropped it on the nearby bedside table.

“Don’t worry, baby, I won’t leave you high and dry.”

Picking up a plug from the base of the bed, one she had intended on using later anyway,
Selina squirted a small amount of lube onto her fingers and started to coat it in the slick
substance.

The faint mutterings of annoyance coming from Edward as he fought to speak past the gag
were unintelligible but the telltale twitching of his cock as it reacted to her plans spoke
volumes. Reaching beneath him, Selina lined the plug up and pushed it in roughly. Their
earlier play had already seen him opened up by her talented fingers so the plug did not meet
too much resistance but Selina took great pleasure at watching the corners of Edwards’ eyes
wrinkle in discomfort as he found himself suddenly filled with a slightly uncomfortable but
familiar weight.

Dipping back up the bed, Selina placed a soft kiss on Edwards’ cheek as she firmly tweaked
his left nipple and for her efforts she was rewarded with a low grunt.

“Catch you later, Eddie.” She chuckled, dragging his name across her tongue. “Or,” she
paused, “maybe not? I might get tired and have to stop off for a catnap. Leaving you here all
alone and helpless. What if someone were to break in? Do you think they’d like to have some
fun of their own?”
Unable to do much else and consumed by the sudden fullness which was pressing teasingly
against his prostate, Edward made an attempt to nod his agreement and a low moan rumbled
around the gag as the soft moment caused the plug to move within him.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you? Such a slut. In fact-”

Walking back over to Edwards’ prone body, Selina trailed a finger around his inner thighs as
she again sought out the plug. Locating the small, raised button which decorated the outside
she pressed it in gently.

The effect was instantaneous. Edward jumped against his bonds as though an electric shock
has speared through him as the medium-sized chrome plug began to vibrate. It was high
enough to ensure that he was kept constantly stimulated as it rolled along his prostate but low
enough to keep any orgasm at bay. It was delicious torture and she could feel her growing
wetness as she imagined how delightfully sensitive and responsive Edward would be when
she returned. Already she could see the developing beads of pre-cum as his cock bounced on
his stomach with every move he made.

“Back soon,” Selina walked to the door, only pausing to throw back a small kiss which she
blew with a warning as she added, “so try not to get too worked up, Eddie. We have a whole
night ahead of us.”
 Crane/Ivy - Pheremones
Chapter Notes

Jonathan Crane has a fury wank lmao. I got 'Feral scientists' as a prompt as since I don't
see them as pairing this is what I came up with xx

The meeting with Poison Ivy had been successful and his newly acquired chemicals would be
of great use in his latest experiment to expand the effective range of his toxin. However, his
mind was far from his achievements at the moment, instead his thoughts were focused on the
hand which moved jerkily within his slacks as he was forced to deal with the shame of his
own weakness.

Human emotion was his domain and he prided himself on having a fantastic level of self-
control, but he had no power over the hot shame which accompanied the almost painful
arousal which was clouding his mind and making concentration impossible. The pleasure his
hand was bringing him was tainted by a unwilling repulsion which made the act all the
sweeter.

He knew of her powers, her pheromones, and how she used them to ruin the minds of lesser
men; how she compelled men to give in to their most base desires. It unsettled him that she
could use her chemicals against himself and yet she was immune to his own. It enraged him.

His free hand gripped the edge of the desk, the knuckles white with tension, as he continued
to stroke himself. Rage mingled with pleasure as his mind conjured unbidden images of soft,
green skin and voluptuous curves which would make the muses of old envious.

He hated it.

He hated himself.

Most encounters with that floral Jezebel ended in such a manner; with him being forced to rut
against his own body like a common animal in the privacy of his own workshop as he sought
relief from the pressure of his flesh. The twisted mixture of pleasure and loathing spurred his
movements on and it didn’t take him long to reach his peak, hot shame flushing through him
as he forced back a deep groan.

The relief was immediate and he eyed the mess with open contempt as his waited for his
heartbeat to grow less erratic. Disgust settled within his chest like an old friend and he
scowled at the briefcase which contained his new chemicals as though they were somehow
witnesses to his shame.

He would suffer such degradation and humiliation only for his beloved toxin.
 Riddlebat - Wet Dreams
Chapter Summary

Short and sweet drabble which I was prompted for on tumblr xx

The forearm against his neck pinned him into place as a warm mouth working along his
jawline, the sensation making him dizzy as everything seemed to happen at once. The faint
sound of his fly being unzipped sound far-off and his mind was short-circuited as an insistent
hand brushed his trapped length before wrapping around it and stroking gently. How the dark
knight had lost his glove, he wasn’t aware, but the feeling of warm skin against his arousal
had his breath coming in pathetic gasps as he was held in place.

“You think I don’t know you want this, Nygma?” The growl within the cowled figure’s voice
was deeper than usual, tinged with his own arousal as his sharp teeth nipped at Edward’s jaw.
“All the posturing, all the attention? I know what you want.”

“No one else,” Edward answered between grunts as he jerked against the hand which was
picking up speed as the writhed in place, “can challenge you like I can. No one else can
challenge me.”

A slight murmur of amusement met his words but before he could a continue his speech was
cut off by rough lips pressing against his own. The smell of leather assaulted him and Edward
was forced to swallow down a desperate whine as the hand within his slacks worked him
with a resolute determination until he felt his peak approaching.

Awaking with a gasp, the sheets of his bedding felt clammy against his skin and, as he
shuffled in position, a very undeniable and uncomfortably sticky mess within his boxers
made itself known. Shame mixed with irritation flushed over Edward and he silently cursed
his imagination for tormenting him with the unspoken accusation of his true feelings as he
lay; his chest rising and falling rhythmically as one hand rose to muss his rust-coloured hair.

Even a genius could be victim to his own subconscious.

 RiddleBird - Exhibition
Chapter Notes

The first of my Kinktober 2020 prompts! These will not be as heavily edited as i would
like but time constraints are a real bastard atm. Apologies for that! Hope you all enjoy
xx

Standing by the full-length windows which made up a single wall of his office and
overlooked the main bar of the Iceberg Lounge, Oswald tipped his elbow out to prod at his
partner’s side. The tinted glass allowed him full view of his entire lounge while keeping
prying eyes away from his business and many visitors; criminal or otherwise.

“The brunette by the fountain,” he pointed her out with a crooked finger as Edward followed
the digit with his gaze, “she used to own the Gotham Gazette but had to be bought out to
prevent a drugs scandal.”

“Interesting.” Edward hummed, “I often wondered why the publication changed hands so
quietly. I assumed it was a tax job.”

“Not quite. Too fond of the Bolivian marching powder for some tastes and she was forced
out.”

“Shame.” Edward replied without a hint of sympathy, draining the remaining red wine from
his glass before disappearing to deposit the empty glass on Oswald’s desk.

However, rather than returning to his original place, Edward took up position directly behind
Oswald, the faint scent of wine on his breath tickling Oswald’s nose as Edward dipped his
height to meet him.

“Yes?”

“Just admiring the view.”

Oswald made a subdued squack of disbelief but allowed Edward to play his game regardless,
enjoying the feeling of the other man wrapped around him. Or at least he was until he jumped
in place as Edward’s hand came to rest on his upper thigh.

“Eddie.” A warning.

“Ozzie.” Edward replied in kind, continuing to run his hand along Oswald’s inner thigh, the
suit fabric doing little to hide the heat of the thick flesh below.
A visible hitch overtook Oswald’s breath as Edward deftly unhooked his fly with one hand
before slipping his hand within the silk boxers which Oswald preferred to wear. He was
pleased to find that Oswald was already half-hard and he ran his fingers along the length,
delighting in the way which Oswald’s back curled against his body as he responded to the
teasing touch.

“What are you doing?” The answer was obvious, but Oswald was never one for not
demanding an explanation for behaviours.

“Do you think they can see us?”

A muted response, breathed directly into his ear which caused a fresh shudder to run down
Oswald’s spine as Edward stroked him leisurely.

“The glass is tinted. It would be very difficult.”

“But not impossible,” Edward purred, “and can you imagine how they would feel? Seeing the
great Oswald Cobblepot standing over them in the throes of ecstasy as they sit there
emptying their pockets into his own.”

Gripping his hand across Edward’s wrist as Edward picked up the pace slightly, Oswald
could feel the blush splayed across his rounded cheeks as he was pleasured in what felt like
full view of the Lounge. Edward’s talented hand had never failed him yet and a soft moan
escaped him as the sensation of warm lips against his neck sent a spear of fresh arousal
shooting through his gut.

“Eddie.” He muttered, the name both blessed and cursed as it passed through his lips.

Edward simply grunted a response, ghosting his thumb across the head of Oswald’s cock to
draw some delightful noises from his throat; a successful venture as Oswald bucked against
his hand and unleashed a low whine which ended in a sharp inhale. It wasn't that they had
never had sex in the office before, in fact it was one of Oswald's favourite places for a quick
tryst between long hours keeping his empire afloat, but any action had always taken place far
from the windows.

The thrill of being caught, despite how unlikely it was, gave every stroke a seedy edge which
was intoxicating as Oswald's eyes darted between his patrons far below. So ignorant of all the
delights occurring just outside of their sight. A particularly firm tug across his member
brought his focus back to the moment and the exquisite work of Edward's skills.

“Come for me, Ozzie,” Edward purred in his ear once more, his tone urgent, “put on a show
for the people of Gotham who have come to visit their kings.”

As he spoke, Edward’s hand moved quicker, and Oswald was quick to acquiesce to his
demands. Throwing one hand over his shoulder, he snatched the lapels of Edward’s shirt and
pulled him in for a filthy kiss to muffle the sound of his orgasm as he peaked.

Lost to the pleasure that was coursing through him, Oswald did not care for any mess and
allowed Edward to use him as he wished. However, as the residual waves of his orgasm
started to ebb, he noticed that the handkerchief he kept in his front pocket had disappeared.
Tilting his head downwards as he fought to reclaim his breath, a smile tugged at the corner of
his lips as he watched Edward wipe the mess he had strategically allowed to coat his hand.

Noticing the smile, Edward matched it with one of his own.

“That suit was a custom order by myself. I would not see it ruined with any questionable
staining.”

“If it had been ruined then it was by your own hand.”

Laughing at the valid accusation, Edward pressed in further to Oswald’s back and Oswald
could feel Edward’s own excitement pressing against his lower back.

“A fair cop, however, I think the end result was satisfactory.”

Tucking himself back into his suit trousers, Oswald’s smile turned predatory as he rounded
on the cocky redhead and lay a hand on his chest to guide him backwards to his desk. For his
part, Edward allowed himself to be pushed until the hard wood of his desk lay against his ass.

“A true gentleman never lets a debt go unpaid,” Oswald muttered, “and I have no
appointments for the next two hours.”

Hooking his fingers within Edward’s shirt, Oswald just stopped himself in time before
ripping the top button. This shirt was also a custom piece which he had bought for Edward’s
birthday earlier in the year and he was loathe to ruin it.

Settling in for a slower pace, Oswald amused himself with the thought that their expensive
taste was the only reason either of their clothing survived for any great length of time.
 Bane - Spanking

“Assume the position.” His tone bordered no argument and the easy dominance of it was
enough to produce a thrill of pure arousal as you complied.

The solid wall of muscle pressing against your stomach sent butterflies whirling through your
stomach as you were again reminded of just how much sheer mass the hulking figure you
were wrapped around possessed.

Bane.

Built like a brick shithouse and twice as sturdy.

The soft fabric of your vest top was thin and through it you could feel the hardness of his
length pushing up against your side as you splayed yourself across his knee willingly.

A soft breeze of cool air hit your lower half as your skirt was raised past your ass and you
heard the faintest intake from him as he realised that you had neglected to wear any
underwear for this little visit. His hand felt huge against your exposed skin as he immediately
palmed your ass roughly, calloused fingers running along your soft skin to admire it before
the real fun began.

“Ready to count for me?” His voice was hoarse, and the accented syllables washed over you,
causing your spine to shudder slightly in anticipation as you nod.

Without much hesitation, you hear the faint sound of air being disturbed before his hand
connects with your ass and the stinging sensation forces you to jump in pace even as his other
hand comes to rest on your lower back to secure you in place.

“One.” You count, the number coming out breathier than you would like as you squirm
against him, rubbing your thighs together and feeling the slickness there.

An unexpected smack, sharper than the previous one, caused your breath to catch in your
throat.

“English? Very brave of you.”

“Two.” You answer back with a defiant smirk. It was a game you enjoyed and one which you
know he also adored as you refused to bend to his will.

“Disrespectful.” He growled, the sound so low that it was difficult to pick the word out but
the curl of his lips as they matched your smirk was undeniable, “We shall see how long it
lasts.”

Another smack, this one similar to the second, assaults you and you can already feel the
growing heat from your ass as each smack adds a fresh sting to the underlying discomfort. He
was barely exerting any force, a true hit from one of his hands would be enough to break a
bone and you both knew it. He knew your limits and you trusted his honour enough for him
to respect those.

Continuing to count despite being lost in thought, you yelp in surprise as a particularly hard
smack brings you back to focus. The growing pain in the heat of your flesh only serving to
add to the pleasure that was soaking your core, the sound of the harsh-sounding slaps were
intercut by your own whines and soft groans as he alternated the occasional strike by pausing
to grope gently at your stinging flesh.

Blinking back the wetness of your eyes as his hand once again struck the by-now searing skin
of your ass, which you had no doubt was a delightful shade of red, you cry out the final
number.

“Twenty.”

Your head still bent over his lap and facing towards the ground, you were unable to see his
expression, but you could hear the approval in his voice as he spoke.

“Well done. You accepted your punishment with less complaint than usual.”

A warm blush decorated your cheeks at the unexpected praise, and you shuffled against him,
intentionally grazing his hard length with your elbow and you silently encouraged him to
move forward with the game.

“I think a reward has been earned, mi corazón.”

A high groan escaped your throat as thick fingers teased at your entrance and the unexpected
stimulation caused you to bury your mouth atop your forearm to quell the sound as his rough,
talented fingers began to move gently within you.

Oh, yes.

Now the game was on.

 Music Meister/F-Reader - Sex Is A Melody
Chapter Notes

First time every writing anything for Music Meister so yeah! Enjoy! This was a gift to a
friend.

‘Sex is a melody’, that is what he told you.

You thought you had understood his meaning, but as the night progressed you had come to
realise that your knowledge of the subject was basic, and the consequences of your ignorance
had proven to be delightful.

Pianist fingers: slender and delicate, curl within you to hit spots which draw the sweetest
noises from your throat. His rhythm is steady, and you follow it with your hips, grinding
down to meet his ministrations as your breath exhales in short gasps.

The sensation of the silk sheets against your body is heaven as you slip against them, your
soft skin moving in cadence to his alternating whims. Time had long since lost meaning as
you lost yourself to the pleasures that were being shared between you. Hands ghost across
your body as the space between you is charged like a theremin, awaiting every move with a
stilled anticipation that promises a response.

Fingers come to pluck at your chest, thrumming across your sensitive nipples and sending
fresh waves of arousal pulsing through you even as he conducts his attentions elsewhere.

Muted breath caresses your core as his fingers increase their tempo within you, building
intensity as his tongue joins the choir to add to the depths of your ecstasy. Twisting, turning,
flicking against you in a chaotic tempo until a low whine escapes your throat and emboldens
him to add to the growing aria which you were producing.

Wrapping his lips around the small bundle of nerves that make up your sweetest spot, he
continues to devour you as the swell of your pleasure approaches its crescendo. He anchors
himself to you as he draws you in sweetly, a talented tongue drawing across the tip your nub
like it was a delicate instrument which is to be handled with reverence.

A cacophony assaults your ears; it’s all too much, your own whimpers mixing with the
scratch of the fabric as your fingers claw against the sheets frantically. The small sounds of
satisfaction which hum from his throat as he plays you like a fiddle, bringing your
performance to a thrilling climax.

His fingers shift to grip your thighs, holding you in place as you writhe to his performance.

‘Sex is a melody’, that is what he told you.

And what better way to enjoy a melody than in the hands of a meister.
 Music Meister/M-Reader - Sex Is A Melody

‘Sex is a melody’, that is what he told you.

You thought you had understood his meaning, but as the night progressed you had come to
realise that your knowledge of the subject was basic, and the consequences of your ignorance
had proven to be delightful.

Pianist fingers: slender and delicate, curl within you to hit spots which draw the sweetest
noises from your throat. His rhythm is steady, and you follow it with your hips, grinding
down to meet his ministrations as your breath exhales in short gasps.

The sensation of the silk sheets against your body is heaven as you slip against them, your
soft skin moving in cadence to his alternating whims. Time had long since lost meaning as
you lost yourself to the pleasures that were being shared between you. Hands ghost across
your body as the space between you is charged like a theremin, awaiting every move with a
stilled anticipation that promises a response.

Fingers come to pluck at your chest, thrumming across your sensitive nipples and sending
fresh waves of arousal pulsing through you even as he conducts his attentions elsewhere.

Muted breath caresses your groin as his fingers increase their tempo within you, building
intensity as his mouth joins the choir to add to the depths of your ecstasy. Warm, inviting,
swallowing you down in a chaotic tempo until a low whine escapes your throat and
emboldens him to add to the growing aria which you were producing.

Wrapping his lips around the tip of your cock, he continues to devour you as the swell of
your pleasure approaches its crescendo. He anchors himself to you as he draws you in
sweetly, a talented tongue drawing across your shaft like it was a delicate instrument which is
to be handled with reverence.

A cacophony assaults your ears; it’s all too much, your own whimpers mixing with the
scratch of the fabric as your fingers claw against the sheets frantically. The small sounds of
satisfaction which hum from his throat as he plays you like a fiddle, bringing your
performance to a thrilling climax.

His fingers shift to grip your thighs, holding you in place as you writhe to his performance.

‘Sex is a melody’, that is what he told you.

And what better way to enjoy a melody than in the hands of a meister.
 Scarecrow - Priest Kink
Chapter Notes

This chapter is a rewrite of an old Scriddler fic that was requested by a few folk to be
changed into a Crane/Female Reader fic instead. And since i'm weak to requests, here it
is.

Pulling the dark garment from its hidden position at the back of the closet, you bring it into
the light for closer inspection. The soft, black fabric was broken up with a white triangle of
cotton which fell down from the collar on the front and was bordered with strips of red fabric.
The longer you examine it, the more it almost seems to look like a-

“Priest costume?”

Glancing from his reclined position behind you on the bed, Jonathan squinted at the costume
for a moment before returning to his book.

“Jonathan,” shaking the hanger, you have to ask, “why do you have a priest costume in
here?”

“I moonlight on weekends as a wedding officiator,” he responded without missing a beat, “to

supplement my income. The price of chemicals has risen in this economy.”

“Ignoring that, why is this in here? Seriously.”

“Because,” Jonathan placed his book on the bedside table, “I had an incident with the Bat
many years ago and the outfit was necessary for exploiting some of his fears. Clearly. Why
else would it be there?”

Shaking the hanger again, your gaze splits between the fabric and the lounging man and you
can't help but picture a more youthful Jonathan adorning it.

Unable to reconcile the image, you elected to ask.

“Could you try it on?”

“Seriously?” Jonathan mimics your words back to you.

“Yes.”

Sighing as he realised that he would get no peace until he had complied with your silly
demands, Jonathan swings his legs over the side of the bed and holds out expectant fingers.
Moving quickly, you drop it into his waiting hands.
Wanting to keep the reveal a surprise, you turn away as he you allow him to slip into the long
gown and adjust it accordingly. The vague sound of rustling and muttered irritations are quick
to reach you and you stand patiently until an impatient cough lets you know that it's time to
look.

Twisting around, you are momentarily struck speechless.

The dark frock combined with the stark white of Jonathans' skin was striking and it's difficult
to look away. His arms are almost fully covered by the sleeves with only his hands protruding
from the ends, the slim fingers appearing somewhat clawed as they cling to the edges of the
fabric. The blood-red trimmings which border the white triangle give the ensemble an aura of
danger and foreboding as opposed to the traditional image of a forgiving and loving priest.

He looked powerful.

In some twisted way, the sheer blasphemous nature of Jonathan wearing such a garb is
intoxicating and, swallowing away a lump in your throat, a growing warmth low in your gut
confirms what you are already beginning to suspect.

This was turning you on.

Quite a bit.

Feeling mischievous and gripped by the desire to have some fun, you started to run your
fingers lightly around the red bordering as you slip forward to invade Jonathans' personal
space, leaving only inches between you as you lean in towards him.

Caught off-guard by this new closeness, Jonathan narrowed his eyes.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing.” You answer, your expression an absolute picture of innocence as your grip leaves
the gown and instead concentrate on rubbing gently on his shoulders.

“Are you getting-,” Jonathan pauses as he assesses your physical appearance, taking in the
sight of the dilated pupils and the subconscious lip-licking which was undeniable in its
origin, “-oh.” He finishes rather lamely but soon recovered.

“Do you find this arousing?” He asks, voice a touch lower than usual as he cottoned on to
your game.

Unwilling to concede to him just yet, you tilt your head and offer a small, “Maybe.”

Taking in your words with a smirk, Jonathan raises the level of authority in his tone as he
holds you eye.

You know he likes to play games.

“Have you been entertaining," he paused, "sinful thoughts?”

The final two words are practically purred at you and you immediately feel his mouth go dry.
You have never been particularly religious but the potential for some decent immorality here
was far too tempting. The forbidden nature of it is turning you on in the most unforgiving
ways and you can already feel the growing slickness between your legs as you start the game.

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

“And what are these sins, my child?”

“I have been having impure thoughts, Father.” You confess in a honeyed tone.

“Oh?” A raised eyebrow meets your words. “And who is the victim of these thoughts?”

“You are, Father.”

Nodding his head in false consideration, Jonathan further questions you.

“And what form do these thoughts take?”

“I often think of your hands,” you breathe, taking one of hands hands into your own and
running the tip of the index finger across your cleavage, “I picture them touching me, teasing
me, and making my entire body shake from wanton desire.”

“I also think of your lips,” you bring the index finger to your mouth and nip at the end of it
with your teeth, “and how much I would enjoy feeling them on my own, devouring me and
making me forget my nightly prayers.”

Shivering as a fresh spike of arousal spears you, it's almost impossible to resist rubbing your
thighs together as you stand in place but the friction is not nearly enough. A quick glance
down and you can see the sharp tent in the front of Jonathans' gown and it's enough to bolster
you.

“Anything else?”

Gathering your strength, you push him onto the bed in a seated position and lean down until
your lips are brushing his ear.

“I also have thoughts about your cock,” reaching down and placing your hands beneath the
gown, you push it upwards, your hands sliding up Jonathans' legs until they reach the upper
thighs, “and how good it could make me feel.” Pushing it back the final few inches, you
release Jonathans' cock to your sight and you bite back a moan as you take in how hard he is.
“I have imagined it in my hand, in my mouth and inside me, stretching me and making me
moan and cry out in pleasure.”

“And what have you done with these thoughts, child?”

“I have touched myself,” pulling away from his ear, you feign a blush as you 'confess',
“pleasured myself to climax while picturing these sinful acts. And at the moment of climax I
have often called your name, screamed it to the heavens as I came.”
An idea clearly alighting in his mind, Jonathan pinches your chin as he asks, “Do you think
you deserve to be punished for these sins?”

“Yes, Father.”

“These transgressions are rather severe,” sliding his hand along to caress your cheek, he
again fakes an expression of contemplation, “to use your priest in such a manner is a terrible
sin. Filthy. I feel a corporal punishment would serve better than any prayer. Come here, child,
and bend over.”

Shuddering with desire and mouth going dry as he indulges your masochism, you lift your
skirt above your ass and expose your lower half to him. Privately pleased you chose to wear
nice underwear, a groan escaped you as he roughly pulls the panties down, letting them fall to
floor.

Assuming the position you had been instructed to, you lay across his bare knees and present
yourself for punishment.

“I feel that five hits would be sufficient to remind you of the dangers of sin,” the warmth of
his legs against your lower stomach is pleasant and you can feel his cock twitch against you,
“so let us begin.”

Swinging his hand down sharply, it collides with your unprotected ass with a resounding
smack and you jump in place as the ache in your core intensifies.

“One.”

As Jonathan followed through with the second smack, you have to hold back a moan as the
stinging pain of your ass melts with the sudden pleasure of his fingers as they tease a firm
line down your slit before disappearing again. The third smack hits rougher than the previous
two and you can feel a small bead of pre-cum rub from the tip of his cock onto your stomach.

A yelp escaped you as Jonathan unexpectedly switches up his target and instead of your ass,
delivers a stinging blow to the sensitive skin at the tops of your thighs instead.

“Four.”

Humming in pleasure as a warm hand gently caresses the area which had just been struck,
you appreciate his attempts to dull the pain for a moment. The feeling is short-lived, however,
as the hand is snatched away and returns to the area with much more force than before,
causing you to grunt in pain and jerk forward with the pressure.

“Five.” He counts. “Now, turn around and kneel before me.”

Following his instructions as you resist the urge to touch yourself, you do as commanded as
you kneel in front of him, your head tilting upwards to meet his eyes as you tactfully avoid
the stiff cock which sits mere inches away from your face.

“Do you feel absolved of your transgressions, child?”

“No, Father,” you confess, “If anything it's gotten worse. I want nothing more in this moment
than to take you in my mouth and fulfil my fantasy.”

“Then perhaps it's divine will?” Jonathan teased as he ran a hand through your hair. “It's
better to beg forgiveness for a sin than to request permission. Look at me, you have tempted
me into sin, child, so it is your duty to absolve us both. Would you like to beg for
forgiveness?”

Without needed to hear a word more, you duck your head down and take his cock into your
mouth. The familiar weight and size of it was welcoming as you quickly start to bob your
head along it, the ache within your core making your actions sloppier than usual. The weight
of Jonathans' hand on the back of your head makes itself known and you hear him unleash a
soft moan as he guides your head along his length.

Unable to hold off any longer as you balance one hand on his knee, you slip your other hand
down and begin to touch yourself. You hum around his cock as you alternate between gentle
strokes across your clit, the intensity too much for anything else, and roughly teasing your
entrance with two fingers. It did not last long, however, as you feel a vice-like grip encircle
your wrist and wrench your hand away.

Pausing your movements, you can only look up at him in mild confusion.

Smirking, he releases you hand to wag a finger in your face.

“Masturbation is a sin.”

Eyes dropping down to the cock in your mouth, you gaze at it for a moment before glancing
upwards and rolling your eyes in a dramatic fashion. Pushing your head backwards, you wipe
away the small amount of spit and pre-cum which has accumulated at the corner of your
mouth so you can speak.

“What do you think your great granny would say if she could see us?” Your voice is hoarse
and you can feel the tingle of you lips and you have no doubt that they have been plumped up
from your enthusiastic actions.

“I like to think it would put her in her grave if I hadn't already accomplished that feat.” He
answers honestly before taking a hold of your hair and realigning your head with his cock.
Without protest, you allow him to enter your warm mouth again and you see him bite his lip
to keep his moans at bay.

Settling back into a rhythm, it's only when you're on a downward bob that you feel a smack
on the back of your head, forcing you further down and causing you to choke for a moment
as you release him entirely.

“What the hell?” You splutter.

Clearly unapologetic, he answers, “That was for mentioning the old crone while I am trying
to get off.”
As he reaches down, you feel two of his fingers enter you roughly and you gasp at the
stimulation as you push backwards, greedily seeking out more.

“Are you ready to continue, child?” Back in character, Jonathan was quick to return to
business.

“Yes, Father.” You breathe out between pants as his calloused fingers continue to thrust
within you as his thumb rests atop your clit.

Licking a sordid trail up his stiff cock as you take him into your mouth again, you can
strongly taste the growing level of precum which you know means he's close. Rubbing your
inner thighs together once again, you encourage him towards the edge as you continue to
work your head up and down his cock. His fingers keep up their punishing pace within you as
you continue to push back against him and it doesn't take too long before you start to feel the
tell-tale twitching of his orgasm.

A hand twists within your hair, pulling harshly, as Jonathan releases a loud groan as he
reaches his peak. Even through his own orgasm, which is prolonged as you stroke him
through it, his rhythm against your clit keeps up its pace and your cry out your own orgasm
as you spasm against him.

Both riding out the dual climax, your grip on his thigh tightens to the point where you can see
the whites of his skin around the dents of your fingers. A rush of dizziness threatens you as
you pull away from him, too sensitive to allow any further stimulation, and as your vision
clears and you glance up, you are rewarded with the sight of Jonathan gazing down at you
with something fond hinting out from his expression. His russet hair was messed up, with a
few strands of it falling onto his face, and his eyes were hazy with his sated lust.

In this moment, he was beautiful.

Pulling yourself shakily to your feet, you collapse on the bed at his side as he took the
opportunity to fall back in a similar fashion. As you make contact with the bed, the soft
cotton of the bedsheets feels comfortable against the ache of your ass and your lips stretch
into a lazy smile as you wonder how long that ache will last.

“So,” you ask, and even to your own ears your voice sounds heavy with tiredness with only a
hint of smugness, “was it worth trying the costume on?”

He turns to you to nod his agreement as he shifts into a more comfortable position as he asks
a question of his own.

“Do you think this counts as a cardinal sin?”

“Hmm,” you grin as he taps a finger on his thin chin, “I'm not the one with a religious
background, so what do you think?”

“I think,” Jonathan answers evenly as he stretches his long arms overhead, “that you should
venture through our shared wardrobe more often.”
 Oswald/Harvey - Pegging
Chapter Notes

A gift for a friend after they requested it xx

Admiring the toy with clear interest as Oswald presented it to him, Harvey wrapped a hand
along the centre of the shaft, his thumb and forefinger connecting easily around it as he tested
out the girth.

“I know it’s new but if it’s too much then let an old fowl know.”

“It’s great,” Harvey muttered, giving Oswald the positive response he knew he wanted, “and I
admire the colour scheme.”

Eyes roving over the monochrome dildo, the white and black swirls giving it an air of class
which both men could appreciate, Oswald tested the flexibility of the attached straps.

“It cost an extra $40 to have it cast in those colours, but it was worth it. Only the best for
Gotham’s finest.”

Biting back a chuckle, Harvey eyed the bottle of expensive lube which Oswald held in his
other hand with obvious interest.

“Not too much mind?”

“Such masochism,” Oswald tutted, “I will never understand it.”

Harvey loved the stretch, the natural ache which came with having his back blown out, and
he had some unknown grudge against too much lubrication; Oswald had often found that spit
or his own pre-cum was sufficient but with the new toy he wanted to take precautions.

Just in case.

The strap to hold the toy was also custom-built, strong enough to support itself but also wide
enough to fit comfortable around Oswald’s larger gut without being too tight or causing too
much friction against his skin and as he pulled it on he had to admire the craftmanship of it.

The monochrome cock jutted out from his body with purpose and Harvey shifted his body so
that his ass was placed on the edge of the bed; the prefect height for Oswald to have access
without having to stoop or bend.

“Ready?”
Opening the bottle of lube, Oswald dropped a small amount on the very tip of the dildo, using
his curved fingers to spread it around the head and a little down the shaft. Harvey might like
it a little rougher but that did not mean that Oswald had to throw caution to the wind.

“Yeah.” Harvey breathed, the lust in his voice clear as his natural baritone had dropped a
level as he glanced between the dildo and Oswald.

No need for further questions and Oswald lined himself up so that the tip of the dildo was in
line with Harvey’s exposed ass. Pressing forward, he used the tip to coat his hole with lube
before breaching him just slightly, earning a hitch of Harvey’s breath for his actions. His
movements were slow and deliberate, allowing the first inch to slide in gently before pulling
it free, almost to the tip, and pushing it in again.

“For god’s sake, Oz, just fuck me! Please!”

Harvey’s voice was loud, catching Oswald off guard for a moment, and the exasperated tone
was clear. Complying with his wishes, Oswald pushed forward again and sunk another three
inches home.

“Yes!” Harvey grunted, pushing down and encouraging Oswald to keep going.

Building up to a more rapid pace, each thrust had the delightful effect of making Harvey’s
cock bob against his toned stomach, smearing the growing pre-cum there as it steadily leaked
free of his cock. The mottled blush of his upper body almost seemed to match the ropey
scarring which decorated patches of it and his broad shoulders took up much of the bed as he
bounced in place.

Enjoying the growing pleasure on Harvey’s face, Oswald allowed himself to be enveloped in
every slight movement the taller man made; from the way his toes curled when he angled
himself to the left, to the way his breath hitched when he made a particularly deep thrust.

One hand came to rest on Harvey’s knee and the other trailed a soft line down his abdomen,
cutting a path through the pre-cum, until Oswald grasped Harvey’s hard length within his
own hand and jerked it roughly. For his efforts, he was rewarded with Harvey’s entire pelvis
jumping off the bed and into his hands at the unexpected extra stimulation and Oswald
smirked at the enthusiastic response.

Oswald shifted forward slightly and released a soft moan as the base of the strap on rubbed
against his own sex but he ignored it for the moment -his focus was on Harvey- and he fell
into a steady, quick rhythm, only occasionally pausing for a slow, deep stroke. Deep groans
spilled for Harvey’s lips and his forearm came to rest over his eyes as he moaned his pleasure
into the warmth of the room, the scent of sex growing stronger with each passing minute.

“Take over.” Oswald purred, releasing Harvey’s cock so he could concentrate on fucking him
with everything that he had as he realigned his hands on Harvey’s thick thighs to give himself
as much purchase as he could to push deeply within him.

Following instruction, Harvey’s scarred hand immediately replaced Oswald’s as he fisted

himself in tandem with each thrust of the strap-on. The dual sensation was almost too much
and he slowed his hand slightly, wishing to hold on to the feeling for as long as possible.

Noticing the hesitation, Oswald smiled down at him.

“Almost there, Harv?

“Yes! Just a little more! Please?”

Increasing his speed once more as he sought to give Harvey the end he deserved, Oswald’s
breath came heavily as he exerted himself, his thick gut shifting with the effort as he thrust
into the panting man below. His movements were quick and deep, hitting spots within Harvey
that he knew the other man adored and he could tell from the way his thighs clenched that his
orgasm was fast approaching.

Pushing in deep, Oswald angled himself in a particular way and Harvey jumped in place, his
breathing quick as he hit the point of no return. Harvey grunted, low and guttural, and his
face twisted as his pleasure peaked; his cock twitching in place even as he jerked it, thin
ropes of cum escaping the tip and painting his stomach as he continued to chase his orgasm.

The only sound within the room was Harvey’s uneven breathing as he settled down from his
high and he wiped away a small bead of sweat from his brow as he met Oswald’s gaze with a
lazy smile.

“You’ve never looked more beautiful.” Oswald commented, his sincerity hopefully coming
across as genuine.

Too spent to argue, Harvey dropped his legs to the floor and pushed himself up slightly so he
could meet Oswald face to face.

“Thanks, Oz.” Harvey offered, his tone heavy and sated. “Needed that.”

“Anytime, Mr. Dent,” Oswald purred, “but I will be expecting something in return.”

Despite his obvious fatigue, a wicked look entered Harvey’s eyes and Oswald had no doubt
that he would be receiving his reward before the night was through.”
 Scriddler - Cigarette and Knifeplay.
Chapter Notes

Please enjoy xx

Circling the restrained man in a decidedly predatory way, Edward could feel the thrum of
power through his veins as he allowed his shoes to click against the laminate flooring. The
padded chair was a staple in their games and, while it was typically Edward who found
himself tied to the arms, today it was filled with the naked and visibly aroused frame of
Jonathan Crane.

His thin chest was visibly rising and falling with each deep breath as he sat, unable to escape
and awaiting Edward’s next move as the genius took his time with their game. The fingers of
his right hand were clutched around a cigarette, and he took a short draw as he stopped his
pacing in front of Jonathan.

Appreciating the smoke for a moment before blowing it free in the small space between
them, his attention was caught by the hardness of Jonathan’s cock as it pressed against his
stomach and the clear tension in his fingers which were clutching at the chair like it was a
lifeline.

“Are you with me, Jonathan?”

Placing his hand below Jonathan’s chin with enough care to ensure that the cigarette clutched
within was not too close to skin of his jaw, Edward tilted Jonathan’s head up to meet his own
and was rewarded with a piercing blue stare which was clouded by open lust.

Jonathan’s nostrils flared as he inhaled in the excess smoke and his eyelids almost seemed to
flutter under the assault.

Tapping off the excess ash with his thumb as he pulled his hand away, Edward watched with
rapt fascination as Jonathan’s eyes followed the cigarette with clear interest as it moved
towards the exposed flesh of his right thigh. Edward hesitated for only a moment before
pressing the lit end of the cigarette into the sensitive skin roughly, grinding it slightly to
ensure maximum contact.

The noise that escaped from Jonathan’s chest was muffled by his gritted teeth but the
noticeable jerk of his cock as it twitched, untouched against his stomach, was undeniable.

“You nasty old crow,” Edward accused with a light mocking tone, “you enjoyed that, didn’t
you? You enjoy me hurting you.”
Keeping his teeth together to prevent anymore sound from escaping, Jonathan gave an almost
imperceptible nod which could have been missed if Edward was not so in tune with his
responses.

Edward frowned at the lack of verbal response and, as he ghosted his fingers across the angry
red mark he had just inflicted, he spoke.

“Riddle me this; I am an instrument through which sounds are made, and yet, I cannot be
played. What am I?”

The slight narrowing of Jonathan’s eyes was all Edward needed to know that he understood,
and his tone was reluctant even as he gave his raspy response.

“My voice.”

“Exactly.” Edward grinned as he pressed his thumb into the burn mark.

A pained yelp escaped Jonathan’s throat as his hips bucked into the empty air, seeking out a
friction which was yet to come. A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead and Edward
could feel his own cock pressing against the confines of his boxer shorts as he places a
settling hand atop Jonathan’s chest.

“That’s much better; let’s move on.”

Dropping the cigarette to the floor, he crushed it beneath the heel of his shoe instinctively
despite the flame having already been extinguished on Jonathan’s willing flesh. His fingers
were quick to delve within his jacket and pull free the black switchblade which was stored on
his person at every possible opportunity.

Flicking the blade free, the shine of the steel glinted in the light of the room and Edward bit
back a smirk as Jonathan’s lips parted to allow a slow inhale of air to make his chest rise.

“This is what you want, isn’t it?” Edward purred, “You want me to hurt you and sully my
favourite knife by slicing it through you?”

The low moan which met his words was rewarded with a raised brow until Jonathan recalled
their previous conversation.

“Yes,” Jonathan growled, “do it.”

Not needing to be told twice as a fresh wave of arousal made his spine curl, Edward twirled
his knife between his practised fingers with a flourish as he kneeled between Jonathan’s legs,
taking great care to avoid his cock as he tightened his grip on the knife.

Dragging the tip of the knife across Jonathan’s very prominent collarbone, small beads of red
welled from the inch-long cut instantly and started to drip a soft path down the sallow skin. A
low whine slipped free of Jonathan’s lips and Edward drank it in like a fine wine. Refusing to
take pity on the aching cock which was begging for his attention, he instead looped his hand
around Jonathan’s neck and bent his head so that his mouth was just by his ear.
From this position, he could hear the small, stuttering breaths which Jonathan was
desperately trying to control as he fought to keep his composure.

“You look beautiful like this,” he muttered, allowing his teeth to nip at the lobes of Jonathan’s
ears, “all trussed up and desperate for me to take charge. The great Dr. Crane, finally brought
to heel by his superior.”

Before Jonathan could refute the claim, as Edward knew he would be unable to resist doing,
he twisted his head back to the front so that he could catch Jonathan’s lips in his own. With
Jonathan distracted, he flicked his knife roughly across his inner thigh, parallel to the
cigarette burn, and an immediate wetness across his fingers told him that the cut was deep.

The cut made Jonathan’s entire body jerk in position, but he was unable to move due to both
the restraints and Edward, who was still devouring his mouth like a man possessed. Even
through the taste of smoke which lingered in his own mouth, Jonathan tasted
uncharacteristically sweet and it sent a thrill of amusement up Edward’s spine to imagine that
it was the literal taste of victory as he held complete power over the scientist.

His musings were cut short by a full-bodied shudder which overcame Jonathan and as
Edward pulled away to ensure that he had not caused some unknown damage, his eyes were
quick to zero in on the source of Jonathan’s movement. Eyes dipping down, the mess of
Jonathan’s release was dotted around his lower stomach and his cock was pressing limply
against his skin.

“Impressive,” sounding far too pleased with himself, Edward dropped his hand to spread
Jonathan’s mess across his chest as he gave a cocky smirk, “I can’t remember the last time
you came hands-free. Brings a virginal blush to my cheeks to know that I have that effect on
you.”

“Virginal blush,” Jonathan murmured, his voice holding some contempt despite how
exhausted and stunted the low words were, “you must be delusional.”

“It’s a shame you shot off like a teenage boy,” Edward mused, “because you have now ruined
some of my fun.”

“Your loss.” Sniffing as his eyes subtly took in the thin sliced cut which was slowly ceasing
to bleed, a flash of something passes through Jonathan’s eyes as he also took in the small
cigarette burn, “Untie me.”

Edward shook his head as he once again flicked the switchblade between his fingers.

“I said you have ruined some of my fun,” he said in a voice which was dangerously playful,
“but our games are not yet over, my dear doctor.”

Despite his best efforts, Jonathan failed to hide the glint of interest which Edward’s words
inspired.
 Scriddler - Dacryphilia

“I admire your restraint,” Jonathan crooned as he dragged his lips along the rim of Edward’s
ear, “but any fool should know better than to expose their neck to a madman.”

Pausing to bite at the lobe with his dull teeth, Jonathan was rewarded with a full-bodied
shudder as the cock within him twitched at the words. With his thin knees gripping the sides
of Edward’s hips, he had taken his time in lowering himself onto Edward’s waiting length as
he teased and tempted the redhead who played his role with a practised ease.

The control was his and he would not give an inch, even as his body screamed at him for
further stimulation. His own cock was hard, bobbing against his stomach as he rode Edward
with an unusually slow pace, and a small patch of pre-cum had spread across his stomach
where his cock was connecting with every bounce.

His hands were tight around Edward’s neck, tactfully cutting off the oxygen supply without
causing any permanent damage to the throat, and his thumbs were crossed just below the
prominent adams apple as he squeezed and released his grip. He was tapering his strength to
ensure that Edward would not die beneath his grasp but keeping enough pressure to ensure
that the results were there for both parties.

Unable to answer the initial point, Edward simply blinked in response as his mouth hung
agape in a desperate bid to take in what little oxygen it could even as his body bucked
beneath Jonathan’s grasp, seeking its own pleasure.

Jonathan’s own eyes were unblinking, taking in every element of panic and flash of fear that
crossed those beautiful green eyes as Edward fell victim to his natural desire to breathe.

Clenching around the cock in his ass, Jonathan watched as Edward’s chest rose for a moment
before falling again as he pushed his body up against him. Anticipating the move, Jonathan
lifted himself slightly, denying Edward the chance to take anything that was not given.

As he continued to manipulate the soft neck beneath his palms, the green of Edward’s eyes
grew reddened with unshed tears and the sight drew a growl from Jonathan’s lips as he
lowered himself another inch on Edward’s length, relishing in the stretch and the discomfort
which accompanied it.

Tightening his grip again, the pallor of Edward’s skin took on a growing warmth as the
pressure caused his face to redden. Weakened hands came to paw at the thin skin of his wrists
as genuine panic seemed to settle in Edward’s chest as he thrashed below Jonathan’s ass;
twisting his head to the side to alleviate some of the pressure.

A single tear escaped Edward’s right eye as his eyes clenched shut and Jonathan couldn’t
help but dip down to catch it with his tongue, relishing in the salty liquid as he fully sank
himself onto Edward’s cock. It tasted like victory and he grunted his approval as his hands
loosened slightly around the willing neck to allow Edward to take in a few gasps of fresh
oxygen as he rode him with a frantic rhythm.
His hips moved quickly as he chased his pleasure atop Edward’s cock, the residual taste of
his tear on his lips spurring his movements. Below him, Edward was making the most
delightful little whimpers which were all he could manage given his current predicament.

The intensity of Jonathan’s orgasm caught him off guard and he forced himself to release
Edward’s throat entirely, instead gripping his left shoulder in a harsh grasp as his other hand
wrapped around his own cock, pulling him to a growled release as the dual sensation of his
hand and the cock which was stretching him pushed him over the edge.

“Fuck, Jon.” Edward’s voice, rough and raw from the abuses of his throat, broke through his
focus as Edward’s hands came to settle on his hips as he buried himself as deeply as he could
within the scientist as his clenching muscles forced him into his own release.

Enjoying the small aftershocks of his orgasm as he ignored the mess he had created on his
own stomach, Jonathan brought his thumb to the edge of Edward’s eye as he felt the other
man coming within him; his release being caught by the condom which he had put on earlier.

Ghosting his thumb along the high points of Edward’s cheekbones, an unfamiliar sensation
settled in Jonathan’s gut as he marvelled at just how prominent the shades of green which
made up Edward’s irises were and how beautifully those colours magnified when filled with
tears.

It was a beauty he never tired of and one which Edward was surprisingly willing to indulge
him in creating.
 RiddleBird - Teasing

Edward at least had the decency to allow Oswald the courtesy of placing his things away
neatly before pouncing on him with his questioning.

“How did you manage to secure a place here? I assumed they would throw you back in
Blackgate.” Edward asked with a slight frown. His three weeks of incarceration had been
tediously slow since no whispers from Oswald had been slipped to him by easily bribed
guards but he was willing to forgive the transgression given this development.

“I was a victim of temporary insanity.” Oswald laughed, the sound low in his throat, “What I
need to recover is the fine help of the doctors at Arkham Asylum, not a jail cell.”

“Impressive.” Matching Oswald’s laugh with one of his own, Edward adjusted the cuff of his
unflattering orange jumpsuit, “And what did that cost you?”

Oswald raised a brow.

“Let’s just say the judge will not have to worry about his personal Christmas budget over the
upcoming holidays.”

A low whistle escaped Edward’s lips.

“Resourceful as ever, Ozzie.” He grinned, “But I am glad to have the company. The fear that
I would be landed with one of the other asylum degenerates was weighing heavily on me.”

A slight leer crossed Edward’s expression as he took in the matching jumpsuit which covered
Oswald’s body; the fabric there much tighter given the limited sizing available within the
asylum. The roundest part of Oswald’s gut pressed at the buttons with some threat, but they
remained safely closed for now.

“I would be much happier to have a more familiar shape weighing heavily on me.”

“Edward…” Oswald warned but his warnings fell on deaf ears as Edward snaked his hands
up the front of Oswald’s chest before coming back down to rest on his sides. His impressive
height as he towered over Oswald was to his advantage as he dipped low to catch the shorter
man’s lips within his own in a chaste kiss.

“Evening meal is in ten minutes.” Oswald grunted even as a small smile tugged at his thin
lips as he enjoyed the kiss.

“We have time.”

“We do not.”

“We can make time.”

Oswald’s protest were cut off by a strangled squawk as Edward’s palm came to rest atop his
covered groin, grinding the palm into his cock for a moment before pulling away long
enough to capture his lips again. At the familiar taste of his lover, Oswald loosened his
position enough to wrap his hands around Edward’s waist as he enjoyed the gentle kiss.

It had been a while.

Edward’s hands were insistent as they deftly popped the first of Oswald’s buttons, dipping his
fingers inside of the material to brush along the fine cotton of his undervest. For his part,
Oswald was quick to run his hands up the fabric which covered Edward’s thighs and knead at
the flesh there with a soft grip.

His breath caught slightly as Edward’s fingers brushed his nipples and he grunted as he
repaid the move by cupping the growing tent in Edward’s trousers with one of his hands.

“Ozzie.” Edward purred, “And here I thought I would have to work harder to convince you.”

Rolling his eyes with a short hum, Oswald conceded the point.

“Shut up and get on with it.”

And, to his credit, Edward did.

Slipping his hands lower within the jumpsuit to pop free more of the buttons, Edward rubbed
his hands along the expanse of Oswald’s rounded gut for a moment before dropping lower.

A low moan escaped Oswald’s lips as Edward’s fingers stroked along the soft silk of his
boxers, tracing the outline of his cock with a tantalisingly slow effort. It really had been a
while and he found himself intoxicated by the gentle touch as his hips bucked into Edward’s
hand to encourage him to pick up pace.

His breathing was short and laboured as a warm hand pushed past his boxers and a loud hiss
passed his lips as the fingers encircled his cock and started to stroke it with practiced ease.

“Edward-” Oswald groaned.

“Shh,” Edward placated him, using his free hand to place a single finger over his lips, “or you
will give the game away.”

Quicker than he would confess to, Oswald found himself reaching the point of no return as
his toes curled against his shoes and his body shuddered in open need. Just a few more
strokes and-

“Dinner time, inmates!” A loud, tinny voice interrupted them as it blared from the small
speaker in the far corner of the room

Panting and suspiciously red in the face, Oswald pulled away long enough to glare at Edward
before glancing at the awkward tenting in both of their jumpsuits.
“I warned you, Edward.” He hissed the redhead’s name with venom as he quickly adjusted
the lapels of his jumpsuit once more. His fingers trembling as they fixed the poppers.

“After dinner then,” Edward responded with a wry wink, “and we both know that I do my
best work on a full stomach.”

Grumbling as the sound of heavy footsteps alerted him to the approach of the incoming guard
as they were to be escorted to the kitchens, Oswald found it difficult to squash his excitement
at the promise despite his irritation.
 Scriddler - Puppy Play (5 Sentence Fic)

Eyeing the leather collar with disdain, Jonathan put on a show of open contempt for the item
bit it did not quite hide the spark of arousal which alit within his gaze.

“If you’re going to be feral about it, then you will also be muzzled.” Edward warned as he
secured the collar around Jonathan’s thin neck with a teasing smile. “I suppose you would
actually enjoy that, you nasty old pup, but I have plans for that mouth which a muzzle would
make inconvenient.”

Playfully tugged at the short leash which was attached to the collar, Edward succeeded in
forcing Jonathan to dip his neck slightly as the pressure pulled him forward.

Despite the obvious twitch of his hard cock as it pressed against his stomach due to his
kneeling position, Jonathan had the audacity to growl at the action and it sent Edward’s brow
up towards his hairline as he smirked.

“Down boy.”
 Scarecrow - Toxin

Chasing the high of his orgasm as he continued to jerk at his cock with a vaguely shaky hand,
Crane unleashed a stuttering breath which helped to calm his twitching body.

His eyes fell on the small beads of cum which were spattered across his fist - proof of his
recent release - and a sudden curiosity alighted within his chest.

Recent observations had alerted him to an increased anxiety in his sexual partners attitude
post-coitus with no apparent cause being present or inflicted and the strange change had been
knocking at his consciousness as the week had progressed.

Flicking out his tongue as he brought his fist to his lips, he was immediately hit with a
familiar saltiness which made his face crease into a scowl as he tested out his latest
hypothesis.

It was only after a few minutes had passed, when his heart rate had definitely increased and
his breathing had grown a touch more shallow, that his suspicions were confirmed and he was
forced to acknowledge the extent of how deeply his beloved toxin had taken root within him.
 Twiddler - Voyuerism

“Don’t mind me, I’m enjoying the view.”

Gasping in shock as a familiar voice washed over him, Harvey’s hand flew from his cock as
though it had burned him as his body jerked in place. Glancing towards the doorway of his
bedroom, he was surprised to find Edward standing there, apparently home early from his
business with Basil.

“You could offer a hand.” Harvey grunted, hiding his pleasure at the other man’s appearance
behind a light scowl. His bare torso felt cool in the open air but the heat in his groin made
him shudder as his hand once again dipped to his aching cock; resuming its languid pace as
he stroked himself firmly once again.

Edward’s gaze was just as heated, his emerald eyes burning with a teased arousal as he
watched Harvey pleasure himself.

“Oh no,” he refused, coiffed hair bouncing slightly as he shook his head, “a man should
always finish any game he starts. I’m happy to stay here and watch.” His hand dropped to his
clothed groin, palm grinding into the rapidly developing bulge there in a show of vulgarity as
he flashed his pearly teeth.

Breath stuttering slightly as he switched hands, Harvey could feel Edward’s eyes on his face
as he jerked his own cock; the sensation of being watched making every ridge and bump of
his scarred digits feel more intense at they glided across the velvety skin of his length.

“Slow down, Harv.” Edward prompted in a husky tone, unable to prevent himself from
interjecting despite his intent to remain little more than a voyeur. “A rare showing like this
deserves to be a slow build.”

“Shut the fuck up, Nygma.” Harvey sighed, using his free hand to flip Edward his middle
finger; an action which saw him rewarded with an amused chuckle from the doorway.
 Scriddler - Edging

Bound against the sturdy yet familiar wooden chair which often housed his frame while he
was working within his basement, Jonathan could feel the scratch of the rough grain digging
into his back with every slight movement on his part.

“Poor little Scarecrow, just how much longer do you think that I can keep this up?”

Edward’s breath ghosting in his ear forces his arms to jerk in place as his fingertips dig into
the underside of the chair, the mild jolt causing his lips to curve into an unpleasant smile as
he answers the rhetoric question.

“We both know that patience has never been your strong suit, Edward.”

“No.” Edward concedes with an audible smile, the palms of his hands ghosting down
Jonathan’s torso to leave a trail of gooseflesh in their wake. “But we both also know that
playing games is one of my favourite indulgences.”

Pianists fingers, scarred by years of messy mechanical work, dance across Jonathan’s cock as
they glide across the length with a familiar rhythm; every fisted pump of Edward’s hands
forcing him once again towards an end which he knows will be denied with a cruel smirk.

His breath comes in sharper bursts as Edward continues to stroke him, talented fist travelling
his cock as it juts free of his opened slacks, only ever pausing to either rub his thumb along
the sensitive ridge between his shaft and cockhead or to circle the tip with a torturous
pressure. It’s an intense feeling and Jonathan cannot help but bite his inner lip until he can
taste iron.

Holding back his moans with all his effort, he will not give the redhead the satisfaction of
seeing any of the desperation which is clawing its way into his heart as his senses scream for
relief from the torments.

Tension creeps into his jaw as he issues a low grunt, his hips pushing into Edward’s accepting
fist as Edward slips his free hand into his scalp. The sensation is delightful as his shock of
russet hair is tugged with a playful grasp which makes his back arch against the chair
roughly.

He is painfully hard and he can feel the small beads of pre-cum which Edward smears across
his cock with every jerk. He’s so close, just a few more strokes and-

A keening sound of disappointment breaks free of his clenched teeth as Edward’s hand
disappears from his length, leaving his twitching cock woefully abandoned. The arousal
which was coursing though his veins like a wanton addiction screamed its lack of completion
as Jonathan turned his furious yet desperate gaze to the source of all his misery.

Edward’s emerald eyes were glassy, drunk with the power which he held, and his pupils were
blown so wide that Jonathan felt a stab of pride that his willing submission could have such
an impact on his wicked partner.

“Let’s try one more, dear doctor.” Edward purred, his slightly damp hand coming to stroke
along Jonathan’s cheek as he unwittingly marked him with his own release. “After all, it’s
like you said, I do need to work on my patience.”

Internally, Jonathan cursed his own inability to keep his mouth shut even as a flair of fresh
arousal tugged at his gut as Edward’s hand descended once again.
 Scriddler - Hellraiser AU (snippet)

The sting of the knife as it pierces through the tender skin of his back steals the breath from
Edward’s lungs but the loss of air is quick to right itself; quickly following up with a pained
howl as the razor-sharp steel of the scalpel draws a deep line down his spine. His hands and
ankles pull at the heavy restraints which are pinning him to table and the frantic movement
makes his ripped shirt open further across his back, exposing more of his flesh to the
delighted monster above.

“Your skin has always been as soft as butter,” Crane purrs as he draws the pad of his curved
forefinger down the openly bleeding wound, “and I’ve spent a long time aching to carve
through it throughout the years.”

He remains outside of Edward’s sight but the restrained man can feel the cold leather of
Crane’s surgical gloves as his palm pushes harshly against the bones at the base of his back to
keep him pinned in place.

The rough treatment also forces his entire groin to press against the table as his cock is
trapped in a painful squeeze between his body and the heavy wood. Worse still, the
undeniable hardness there, despite his considerable agonies, make the corners of his eyes
water as disgust roils through him at his own enjoyment of the sadistic treatment. He wants
this as much as whatever remained of Crane did and he was never one to deny his lover much
when it came to his proclivities.

As though sensing the turmoil, Crane slips a hand below Edward’s body - forcing his fingers
into the very limited space between the cotton of his boxers and the table - and grips his cock
roughly; a sensation which made Edward’s back arch up and a hiss escape him as the move
sends a sharp wave of intoxicating pain through the open wound on his spine.

“Pain and pleasure, Edward.” Crane croons, his voice distorted by the hell which flows
through him, “You welcome them both like old friends, but there is so much more you don’t
understand. Agony, ecstacy, fear, love. All facets of the same primal sensation.”

Each of his examples is punctuated by a slow shuffle of his skinned fingers as he strokes
along Edward’s hard length, and his free hand is quick to join in the torments as it grips at
Edward’s reddened hair with such force that Edward has to hold back a low grunt at the
sudden burn of his scalp.
 Oswald/Harvey - Biting

Groaning as his head tilted down to his exposed chest, Harvey surveyed the damage which
covered his mottled skin with a look which was tinged with aroused admiration.

“How the fuck did you manage to cover me in this many hickies?!”

Oswald’s grin was positively feral as he flashed his sharp teeth, a favourite weapon of his in
their little games, at his lover.

“I was going to stop at one but I couldn’t help myself when I remembered how lovely the
canvas I had to work on was.”

To accentuate his point, Oswald’s curved fingers trailed around the series of livid markings
which his vicious teeth had lovingly carved into Harvey’s broad chest. Some came to overlap
with the pitted ridges of the messy scarring whixh hadblong since decorated the skin and the
effect was beautiful as Oswald took a moment to appreciate his handiwork.

His body was pressed roughly into Harvey’s side, the incessant warmth of the other man
seeping into his very bones as he rutted his heated groin against Harvey’s thick legs; the
muscles there going stiffer with tension every so often as he continued to stroke his free hand
along Harvey’s painfully hard length.

“Oz, I can’t be showing marks through my shirt if you’re going t-”

Harvey’s response was cut off by a low groan as Oswald once again captured a small patch of
his skin between his lips; worrying the flesh there in the most deliciously painful way for a
few moments as his teeth and tongue worked in tandem before letting go with a thoroughly
lewd-sounding snarl.

Unable to prevent the slight bucking of his hips as he pushed himself into Oswald’s talented
hand- the grip on his cock firm and unyielding as it gave him what he wanted- Harvey
tightened his grip on the bedsheets as he resigned himself to the role of willing chew toy.
 Scriddler - Reformed Eddie Toxin
Chapter Notes

Warnings for dubcon and general Crane being a worst cunt lmaooo.

As always, kudos and comments are loved and appreciated 💞 xx

Of the many things which Edward expected to come from his evening, having Jonathan
Crane stride through his office door like he owned the building was not something which he
relished in occurring.

Their relationship, as it stood, was beyond strained. His planned reformation from criminality
had led to an argument which resulted in a split lip on his part and a concussion on Jonathan's
part, events which made the breakdown in joviality very clear. Whatever they had, as twisted
and delightful as it may have been, had been something though, and the absence of the other
man had been difficult at times; particularly during the long, cold Gotham nights.

In the month since he had last laid eyes on Jonathan, the other man had not changed in the
slightest, save for the growing hint of stubble which shadowed along his jaw and let Edward
know that he had not shaved in the last day or two.

"Nice place you have here." Jonathan offered, the words suspiciously venomous despite the
casualness of his tone. "Being a lapdog for bored housewives must pay well."

The insult riled him more than Edward would admit to.

"Do you have an appointment?" Tapping his fingers on his solid oak desk, Edward
momentarily mourned the absence of his cane and the protection it offered. "I don't take
walk-in consultations because I am far too busy."

"Can a man not pay an old friend a visit?"

"We're not friends."

"An old flame, then?" Crane quickly corrected, reaching the other side of the desk from
Edward. "Or has your memory grown as unreliable as your sense of self?"

"If you're here to bitch about my ability to better myself then you're wasting your time."

"Better yourself." Jonathan snorted with disdain. "From one of the leading minds in Gotham
to a gumshoe for hire. How the mighty have fallen."

"Why are you here?"

The million dollar question, one which had the hairs of Edward's neck standing to attention as
Jonathan adopted an almost serpentine look.

"I find myself unsatisfied by our last meeting and I do-"

"You mean the concussion I left you with? I lost a priceless vase to that little tussle. The most
precious thing I lost that night." Edward added with a cruel smirk.

"Perhaps." Jonathan conceded. "But I found myself with a fresh strain of toxin and no willing
subjects to test it on. Naturally, I thought of you since you're now little more than a public
servant."

Blood was in the water and Edward could sense the genuine danger in Jonathan's words, his
eyes darting between the other man's pockets as he attempted to work out where his toxin
was being stored.

Everything happened very quickly.

Jonathan darted forward, slipping around the side of the table with surprising grace as a
syringe appeared clasped between his fingers. On the defensive, Edward immediately
slammed his hands up to intercept Jonathan's wrist, the struggle knocking a few items off his
desk as they clattered messily to the floor.

A pained grunt escaped his lips as Jonathan's large foot slammed down on his right loafer, the
pain catching him off guard and allowing Jonathan to slip the syringe ever closer to his
vulnerable neck.

Edward may have worked out more regularly, but Jonathan's natural strength won in the end
as he swiftly proved victorious; slamming the syringe into Edward's neck and pressing down
on the plunger with open glee.

The sting of the injection was shocking, pure adrenaline coursing through Edward's veins as
the toxin spread through him like a cancer. It was a dance he was familiar with and not one he
cared to engage with again.

His knees failed him, sending him quickly to the floor as his left hand clasped around his
neck. He could feel something wet beneath his fingers but was unsure if it were blood or
excess toxin.

Breathing raggedly as he sank even further to the floor, anxiety and rage coursed through his
system in equal measure and he gazed up hatefully at Jonathan.

"What do you see, Edward?" Smirking, Crane looked every inch the cat who had caught the
canary as he crouched by Edward's fallen frame. "Tell me. Let's not keep secrets between old
lovers."

"Fuck you."

"Like this? Don't tempt me, boy. We both know how much I like you wrapped around my
cock as the toxin tears you to shreds."
Despite the anxiety swirling through his chest as the shadows within his office twisted with
evil intent, a spark of arousal nipped at his groin. To have Jonathan inside him once again,
inviting in and scaring off the worst of his nightmares as he writhed in place, was a tempting
offer but one he would never give the bastard the satisfaction of.

"I'd rather die than have you touch me." He snapped, spitting at the floor just beyond
Jonathan's shoes as he gritted his teeth against the fear making his limbs quake.

Jonathan made a noise in his throat.

"That can be arranged you know, Edward. You threw away whatever protection my affections
afforded you when you spurned your true nature for this witless charade."

Up on his forearms, Edward was determined to rise to his feet once again but a rough foot
connected none-too-gently with his ribs forced him spinning to his back.

Winded, he stared up at Jonathan as he descended like a vulture, pouncing on his struggling

body as he straddled him; his thin ass pressing against his lower stomach as thin fingers
wrapped around his wrists and pinned them above his head.

His limbs felt loose and his strength only seemed to leave him as the seconds pressed on.

"What the hell did you shoot me with?"

"A special blend," Jonathan answered with a toothy smile, "one which will allow you to
remain aware of your surroundings while also sparking fear deep within your heart."

"I'm not scared of you." Edward lied.

Even as he uttered the words, he could feel the erratic beat of his heart within his chest and
the sweat which coated his upper back.

"You're a smart man, of course you are."

Taking one hand from his wrists, Jonathan's ragged fingernails trailed down his face with a
threatening pressure before dropping to his shirt. He tore the top three buttons clean off his
shirt in one deft movement, sending them bouncing along the wooden flooring and causing
Edward's breath to hitch.

Slipping his ass further down, Edward grimaced with shame as Jonathan's ass brushed against
his half-hard length, his body responding to the familiarity of the situation. His grimace
quickly turned into a soft gasp as Jonathan brushed his hand over his clothed cock, the
movement forcing a twitch of interest for him as he shuddered.

It only took Jonathan a moment to unzip him, pulling his cock free of its confines into the
warm air of the office. Quick as a whip, Jonathan's cool hand was wrapped around him,
stroking him until his cock had hardened fully.

Arousal and anxiety swirled within him, the dose of toxin making his body feel loose even as
the irritation within him tried to make him tense, to show his displeasure.
Jonathan was many things, but never a rapist. He had never taken him unwillingly, even at
the heights of their lunacy. All he had to do was say no and he didn't doubt that Jonathan
would move on to some other form of terrorising him.

And yet, his mouth couldn't form around the simple word as Jonathan continued to stroke
him with a punishing grip.

"I will admit," Jonathan purred with a wolfish grin, "that I did miss this. I woke up hard this
morning and my thoughts turned to you. Tell me, in the month since we last met, how many
others have you spread your legs for?"

"Hundreds." Edward growled, biting back a moan. "Each one ten times the lover you ever
were."

"You're trying to hurt my feelings."

"Is it working?"

"No, because I can taste your lies as clearly as I ever could. Just as you can taste mine. No
one else ever demonstrated such an intimate insight into my goals as you. How disappointing
to lose such clarity to the illusion of a reformed life."

As he spoke, his grip tightened and Edward couldn't hold back the whine which slipped free.

"Do you think you're better than me?"

"Yes." Edward answered honestly, the toxin making his lips as loose as his limbs. "Because I
have the potential to change, to choose my own path."

"And I do not?"

"No. You love the darkness more than I do. You'll die for it."

A sharp pain richochet in his cheek and Edward moaned openly as he realised that Jonathan
had slapped him, the burn high on his cheek only serving to make the heat of his pleasure
even more intense.

"Hrmm." Jonathan hummed. "Maybe you're not as much of a fool as I thought."

The shadows overhead shifted into some eldritch and terrifying and so Edward snapped his
head back to Jonathan, soaking in the laser focus which the scarred face was reflecting back
at him.

"Maybe, I am." Edward panted with a defiant grin as the band of arousal in his groin reached
a dangerous edge. "But I am not the one who gave in first and had to come and find you."

Growling his anger, Jonathan's hand froze at the ultra-sensitive ridge of Edward's cockhead;
the sudden loss of stimulation making Edward buck into his hand shamelessly.

"Then ask me, Edward."

"What?"

"Show me how independent you truly are by asking me to stop. Tell me to stop right now and
I'll leave."

Panic reignited within Edward's chest at the thought of being left here like this, painfully hard
and gasping for release. He was so close. Just another few pumps and he would come, then
Jonathan would be gone to leave him to a restless night of terrors and no sleep.

His pride demanded his lips move but his body refused the simple call, its desperation plain
for both men to witness.

He could always blame the toxin.

"Touch me." Edward demanded roughly, refusing to deign low enough to plead. "Finish off
your little fucked-up game."

Eyes shining with his cruel victory, Jonathan laughed and the sadistic edge to it makes a fresh
shiver of pleasure rush down Edward's spine.

"You don't deserve any more of my help." Jonathan spat. "You can finish yourself off. Show
me just how far you've fallen from the man I once foolishly respected. The man who would
once rather have killed me than show his underbelly."

Too close to the edge to allow the callous words to cut him too deeply, Edward instead
allowed the hot disgrace of them to wash through him as he pulled one hand free of
Jonathan's loosened grip and dropped it to his cock.

Moving along his hardened shaft, the pre-come which leaked from his head making the
movements all that much smoother, he jerked himself meticulously in the way he enjoyed
most.

"Just like that." Jonathan cooed roughly, enjoying the free show like a predator watching its
prey perform before the slaughter.

Given his heightened state of arousal and the questionable audience, it took Edward only a
few moments to reach his peak; his release arcing gracefully across the bottom of his shirt as
it made a mess of the expensive material. A low mewl burst free of his lips and he writhed in
place below Jonathan's dead weight until his pleasure had passed and he lay there panting.

Scooping up some of Edward's release, Jonathan was quick to press his fingers against
Edward's mouth; pushing himself past his lips and forcing him to taste his own weakness, his
own inability to resist those darker, destructive urges which formed his very psyche.

Edward accepted the familiar fingers with a sigh, his orgasm making him pliant as his fried
nerves staved off the worst of the toxins effects for the moment.

A grunt broke free of him as Jonathan stood swiftly, the tent of his slacks unashamedly
catching the light of the room as he peered down at Edward with dark eyes which were blown
with open lust.
"Be seeing you, Edward." Jonathan crooned, his long fingers splayed open in a childish wave
as he taunted the prone figure. "In Gotham City, no one stays good for very long and I'm
looking forward to seeing that pride of yours shattered as you crawl back to what you know
best. The Scarecrow will always have a place for his favourite subject, despite how
ungrateful he has proven to be."

And with that, he left.

Jonathan's legs moved in a purposeful stride towards the door and Edward flinched as he
slammed the door shut behind him.

Still splayed on the floor, Edward took a shuddering breath as he pushed himself up, quickly
tucking his wilting cock away into his dark slacks, before gripping onto the edge of his desk.

Toxin still flowed within his system, but the dosage was not as brutal as it could have been-
as it had been many a time. He wished he could have claimed that he had forgotten how
miserable it was but that was a lie. He had spent many nights hopped up on various doses of
toxin on those rare occasions that he indulged or manipulated Jonathan into exchanging toxin
sex for something else he wanted.

Always a game between them, one which he had once been in a stronger position to play.
However, the medication which allowed his mind to calm had robbed him of his quickness.
Of the bite which he needed to face the Scarecrow.

Irritation, all-consuming in its intensity, made his eyes blur and he took his frustrations out on
a small paperweight which lay on his desk. Snatching it in hand, the clunk it made as it
richochet off the nearby wall was at least a little satisfying and it calmed his breathing for a
moment.

In Gotham City, no one stays good for very long.

Edward would never be good - he knew that much - but with the lingering presence of
Jonathan clearly refusing to abate from his life, his chances of resisting his darkest urges had
grown all that more complicated.
 Scriddler - Reformed Eddie Toxin (non-sexual)
Chapter Summary

Very similar to my previous chapter but some people asked specifically for a version
where the sexual elements were not present and replaced with a more traditional kind of
mental/physical torment.

As always, kudos and comments are loved and appreciated xx

Of the many things which Edward expected to come from his evening, having Jonathan
Crane stride through his office door like he owned the building was not something which he
relished in occurring.

Their relationship, as it stood, was beyond strained. His planned reformation from criminality
had led to an argument which resulted in a split lip on his part and a concussion on Jonathan's
part, events which made the breakdown in joviality very clear. Whatever they had, as twisted
and delightful as it may have been, had been something though, and the absence of the other
man had been difficult at times; particularly during the long, cold Gotham nights.

In the month since he had last laid eyes on Jonathan, the other man had not changed in the
slightest, save for the growing hint of stubble which shadowed along his jaw and let Edward
know that he had not shaved in the last day or two.

"Nice place you have here." Jonathan offered, the words suspiciously venomous despite the
casualness of his tone. "Being a lapdog for bored housewives must pay well."

The insult riled him more than Edward would admit to.

"Do you have an appointment?" Tapping his fingers on his solid oak desk, Edward
momentarily mourned the absence of his cane and the protection it offered. "I don't take
walk-in consultations because I am far too busy."

"Can a man not pay an old friend a visit?"

"We're not friends."

"An old flame, then?" Crane quickly corrected, reaching the other side of the desk from
Edward. "Or has your memory grown as unreliable as your sense of self?"

"If you're here to bitch about my ability to better myself then you're wasting your time."

"Better yourself." Jonathan snorted with disdain. "From one of the leading minds in Gotham
to a gumshoe for hire. How the mighty have fallen."
"Why are you here?"

The million dollar question, one which had the hairs of Edward's neck standing to attention as
Jonathan adopted an almost serpentine look.

"I find myself unsatisfied by our last meeting and I do-"

"You mean the concussion I left you with? I lost a priceless vase to that little tussle. The most
precious thing I lost that night." Edward added with a cruel smirk.

"Perhaps." Jonathan conceded. "But I found myself with a fresh strain of toxin and no willing
subjects to test it on. Naturally, I thought of you since you're now little more than a public
servant."

Blood was in the water and Edward could sense the genuine danger in Jonathan's words, his
eyes darting between the other man's pockets as he attempted to work out where his toxin
was being stored.

Everything happened very quickly.

Jonathan darted forward, slipping around the side of the table with surprising grace as a
syringe appeared clasped between his fingers. On the defensive, Edward immediately
slammed his hands up to intercept Jonathan's wrist, the struggle knocking a few items off his
desk as they clattered messily to the floor.

A pained grunt escaped his lips as Jonathan's large foot slammed down on his right loafer, the
pain catching him off guard and allowing Jonathan to slip the syringe ever closer to his
vulnerable neck.

Edward may have worked out more regularly, but Jonathan's natural strength won in the end
as he swiftly proved victorious; slamming the syringe into Edward's neck and pressing down
on the plunger with open glee.

The sting of the injection was shocking, pure adrenaline coursing through Edward's veins as
the toxin spread through him like a cancer. It was a dance he was familiar with and not one he
cared to engage with again.

His knees failed him, sending him quickly to the floor as his left hand clasped around his
neck. He could feel something wet beneath his fingers but was unsure if it were blood or
excess toxin.

Breathing raggedly as he sank even further to the floor, anxiety and rage coursed through his
system in equal measure and he gazed up hatefully at Jonathan.

"What do you see, Edward?" Smirking, Crane looked every inch the cat who had caught the
canary as he crouched by Edward's fallen frame. "Tell me. Let's not keep secrets between old
lovers."

"Fuck you."
"Choose your words carefully."

"I'd rather die than have you touch me." He snapped, spitting at the floor just beyond
Jonathan's shoes as he gritted his teeth against the fear making his limbs quake.

Jonathan made a noise in his throat.

"That can be arranged you know, Edward. You threw away whatever protection my affections
afforded you when you spurned your true nature for this witless charade."

Up on his forearms, Edward was determined to rise to his feet once again but a rough foot
connected none-too-gently with his ribs forced him spinning to his back.

Winded, he stared up at Jonathan as he descended like a vulture, pouncing on his struggling

body as he straddled him; his thin ass pressing against his lower stomach as thin fingers
wrapped around his wrists and pinned them above his head.

His limbs felt loose and his strength only seemed to leave him as the seconds pressed on.

"What the hell did you shoot me with?"

"A special blend," Jonathan answered with a toothy smile, "one which will allow you to
remain aware of your surroundings while also sparking fear deep within your heart. Somethig
special, just for you."

"I'm not scared of you." Edward lied.

Even as he uttered the words, he could feel the erratic beat of his heart within his chest and
the sweat which coated his upper back.

"You're a smart man, of course you are."

Taking one hand from his wrists, Jonathan's ragged fingernails trailed down his face with a
threatening pressure before dropping to his shirt. He tore the top three buttons clean off his
shirt in one deft movement, sending them bouncing along the wooden flooring and causing
Edward's breath to hitch.

Slipping his body further down, Edward grimaced but his grimace quickly turned into a soft
gasp as Jonathan wrapped his fingers around his neck, briefly cutting off his windpipe with
his tight grasp.

"Poor Edward," Crane chuckled, "trapped like a rat and unable to protect himself from the
monster who wants to devour him. Playing with that prideful mind of yours was always one
of my favourite games."

Anxiety swirled within Edward, the dose of toxin making his body feel loose even as the
irritation within him tried to make him tense, to show his displeasure.

Jonathan continued to flex around his throat with a punishing grip, the loss of oxygen making
his head pound at the dark visage of Jonathan blurred above him.
"I will admit," Jonathan purred with a wolfish grin, "that I did miss this. Did you miss me?"

"Not at all." Edward bit out.

"You're trying to hurt my feelings."

"Is it working?"

"No, because I can taste your lies as clearly as I ever could. Just as you can taste mine. No
one else ever demonstrated such a decent insight into my goals as you. How disappointing to
lose such clarity to the illusion of a reformed life."

As he spoke, his grip tightened and Edward couldn't hold back the whine which slipped free.

"Do you think you're better than me?"

"Yes." Edward answered honestly, the toxin making his lips as loose as his limbs. "Because I
have the potential to change, to choose my own path."

"And I do not?"

"No. You love the darkness more than I do. You'll die for it."

A sharp pain richochet in his cheek and Edward moaned openly as he realised that Jonathan
had slapped him, the burn high on his cheek only serving to make the heat of his pleasure
even more intense.

"Hrmm." Jonathan hummed. "That much is true. The sight of you splayed below me like a
pinned insect does drive my insticnt to see you dissected as such. Maybe you're not as much
of a fool as I thought."

The shadows overhead shifted into some eldritch and terrifying and so Edward snapped his
head back to Jonathan, soaking in the laser focus which the scarred face was reflecting back
at him.

"Maybe, I am." Edward panted with a defiant grin as the blurring of his vision reached a
dangerous edge. "But I am not the one who gave in first and had to come and find you. You're
the one showing true weakness, not me."

Growling his anger, Jonathan's hand pulled free of Edward's neck and instead clawed itself
down his exposed collarbone, the ragged nails carving a series of red welts which
immediately welled with small droplets of blood.

As Edward grunted at the surge of pain, Jonathan brought his bloodied nails to his face,
licking the very edge of his fingers with a blissful smirk which set Edward's teeth on edge. In
his deluded state, Jonathan's teeth were elongated and as sharp as points, a sight which
inspired a visceral fear in his chest as he imagined them sinking into his skin to rip chunks of
his flesh free.

"Then you should ask me, Edward."

"What?" The word was a stuttered whisper.

"Show me how independent you truly are by asking me to leave you alone. Beg me right now
to stop tormenting you and I'll leave."

Mistrust ignited within Edward's chest at the simple offer, his lips trembling and his fingers
clawing against the hand that pinned him with panic. Jonathan was never so generous but
whatever hidden evil he had planned was too wide to discern.

His pride demanded his lips remain stilled but his body refused the simple call, its
desperation plain for both men to see as Edward writhed against the toxin.

"Leave me alone." Edward demanded roughly, pulling the last of his strength to keep him
from deigning low enough to plead with any sincerity. "I'm begging you to finish up your
little fucked-up game."

Eyes shining with his cruel victory, Jonathan laughed and the sadistic edge to it makes a fresh
shiver of anxiety rush down Edward's spine.

"You don't deserve any more of my mercy" Jonathan spat. "You threw away my mercy like a
child discarding a toy. Look at just how far you've fallen from the man I once foolishly
respected. The man who would once rather have killed me than show his underbelly."

Too full of fear to allow the callous words to cut him too deeply, Edward instead allowed the
hot disgrace of them to wash through him as he struggled weakly against the one-handed grip
which Jonathan held against his hands.

"But since you begged so sweetly," Jonathan continued with a mocking sincerity, "I'll uphold
my end of the bargain and let you go."

In a flash, a new stinging pain made itself known in Edward's neck and true horror danced
across his skin as he realised that Jonathan had injected him once again.

"A parting gift." Jonathan hissed as Edward began to hyperventilate, his chest rising and
falling in a thoroughly panicked state. "A dosage you will be much more familiar with. One
which will remind you whom you once dallied with, without breaking that beautiful mind too
harshly."

Jonathan grinned roughly, enjoying the free show like a predator watching its prey squirm
before the slaughter.

Once again, a sharp pain across his jaw made Edward's eyes open widely; the blow catching
him by surprise and making his skin burn and ache. A harsh hand pulled at his hair, tilting his
head to the side as chapped lips pressed against the livid mark which was now no-doubt
decorating his cheek.

His breath come in short, sharp pants as the room around him shifted into a growing
hellscape and the weight of Jonathan left his thighs. Curling into himself in a defensive
position, Edward could only shiver against the incoming onslaught of terror.
"Be seeing you, Edward." Jonathan crooned, his long fingers splayed open in a childish wave
as he taunted the prone figure. "In Gotham City, no one stays good for very long and I'm
looking forward to seeing that pride of yours shattered as you crawl back to what you know
best. The Scarecrow will always have a place for his favourite subject, despite how
ungrateful he has proven to be."

And with that, he left.

Jonathan's legs moved in a purposeful stride towards the door and Edward flinched as he
slammed the door shut behind him, the simple sound like a shotgun blast in his ears.

Still splayed on the floor, Edward took a shuddering breath as his eyes slammed shut.
However, as the growing whispers of hellish figures back from the depth to haunt him
taunted his ears, a shrill scream broke free of his lips as he lost himself to the approaching
darkness.
 Scriddler - Dental Kink

Laughing gas. Nitrous oxide. A fantastic invention and one which Edward appreciated as a
fresh wave of euphoria flowed from his scalp all the way to his restrained feet, filling him
with a lightness which spread across his skin like a soft breeze.

Where Jonathan had purchased, or more likely stolen, the tank of gas from was beyond him,
but the question seemed asinine and beneath his consideration as his glassy gaze focused on
the white surgical gloves which were pressed against his wrist roughly.

"Pulse has slowed but remains strong." Jonathan muttered, almost to himself. "I'll begin my
examination momentarily."

Even through the chemically-induced calm which flowed through his veins, a wickedly hot
mixture of apprehension and arousal curled itself deep within his gut, his dark slacks tight
across his groin as he shifted against the dental chair.

You agreed to this. A small voice chastised him. You knew his terms and yet you consented.

"I would ask how you're feeling but-" Cutting himself off, Jonathan pressed the knuckle of
his gloved fingers against the corner of Edward's mouth to brush away the small pool of
saliva which had collected there, threatening to drip down onto his chin.

A flush of shame joined the myriad of other feelings as Edward licked at his lips; unable to
do much more than that. The ring gag which had been forced within his mouth held it open
without mercy, stretching his lips and jaw to the point of discomfort as he tested the strength
of the restraints which held tight against his wrists.

A gloved finger moved to trace his lips, circling the edge of the ring gag as Jonathan played
with the sensitive skin before dipping forward to begin his examination.

"Say, ah."

His eyelids fluttering, Edward put his amusement at the comment down to the laughing gas; a
staunch refusal to give Jonathan an inch clawing at his senses. His fingers flinched as the
smooth gloves roughly brushed against his tongue, leaving behind an oddly sterile taste
which felt almost imaginary against the buds.

The intimacy of the act, so unfamiliar give how callous their typical interactions were, stirred
a sensation of vulnerability in Edward's chest which made his breathing light as he focused
on swallowing the saliva which seemed determined to flow free of his opened mouth.

"So much restorative work." Jonathan mused as he traced the tip of his finger over the divots
of several perfectly white crowns. "A prideful adult compensation for poor dental hygiene as
a child. Your mouth easily speaks of the neglect which my toxin forces you to scream."
Edward flicked at the fingers within his mouth with the end of his tongue, signalling his
displeasure with the comment as a low growl spiraled from his throat.

Pinching the end of Edward's tongue between his gloves, a delightful whine met his rough
grip and Jonathan stooped low enough to hold Edward's eye as he spoke.

"Hold still, Edward."

Jonathan did not remove his fingers even as he slipped forward onto Edward's lap, the thicker
frame able to hold his own much thinner one without too much difficulty.

Dropping his brutal grip of the tongue, Jonathan instead palmed the hard bulge of Edward's
slacks; dexterous fingers making quick work of his zip to free his cock as it jutted free into
the air. Small pearls of pre-cum decorated the tip and Jonathan swirled his fingers around the
unprotected cockhead, spreading the mess there as it lubricated his gloves.

A moan, unable to be repressed, chimed easily from Edward's mouth and Jonathan repeated
the feat, drawing a sweet cacophony of lurid sounds from the restrained redhead like he were
a skilled percussionist.

Forcing his fingers within Edward's mouth, his tongue was once again pressed into place as
Jonathan spoke with a heated tone.

"The nitrous oxide is a noted dissociative compound. I can imagine how euphoric you must
feel, how at ease compared to our regular games."

His fingers hooked around the back of Edward's teeth suddenly, grabbing at his mouth aa
though it were a leash as he pulled him forward.

"What do you think would happen if I were to inject you now? Fear toxin and laughing gas at
war within your veins? Elation and terror battling it out to control your very limited actions."

A voice little more than a purr coils itself around Edward's ears, luring and threatening all at
once as Jonathan's fingers remained rough against his gums while his cock throbbed with a
pure, debased need.

"Should we try it?"

Edward shook his head.

Jonathan's hand moved quickly across Edward's length messily and only his weight in
Edward's lap prevented the other man from bucking his hips up to seek more friction.

Leaning forward to press his mouth against the warmed metal of the ring gag, Jonathan ran
his tongue along the ridges of Edward's teeth, mapping out the pits and ridges of his canines
before moving backwards to the molars. His desire to consume the other man had never been
particularly well hidden and his own hard cock pressed against his slacks as it remained
painfully neglected.

"Do you think you could stop me if I wanted to?"

Another shake as he pulled away, this one accompanied by a tell-tale tremble, and it was one
which Jonathan easily recognised as Edward's arousal, laid bare for him as his fingers
continued to manipulate his mouth and cock with a surgical precision.

"Behave and follow my instructions and maybe I'll keep my syringe capped within my
pocket."

Finally, he was gifted with a nod.

"Good boy." Jonathan purred as he released Edward's cock, pausing to admire the look of
desperation which the choice earned him. "Now, let's get an even closer look at that mouth."
 Arkham Scriddler - Softness

The discomfort of his utter fullness had passed, Edward's coated fingers having left him slick,
stretched, and gasping for more before finally pressing into him; allowing him to set the pace
as he accepted every inch with soft gasps and curled fingers which stroked along Edward's
welcoming frame.

Below him, Edward rolled his hips and the movement sent a sharp burst of electricity through
his nerves as Edward's cock brushed his prostate. It was almost cruel, how perfectly formed
Edward's body seemed to be for bringing him pleasure. His hands the perfect size as they
wrapped around this thin frame to hold him in place as his cock stroked leisurely along his
most sensitive nerves with an almost painful accuracy.

The air was cool against his bare frame, his natural lack of warmth and body fat making the
chill afflict him with a greater strength and he shuddered in place as his hands pressed against
Edward's chest, his cock hanging hard and heavy against his stomach.

Not missing the shudder, Edward paused his movements for a moment.

"Too much?"

Fixing him with his milky gaze, something foreign nipped at the centre of Crane's chest. The
way that Edward gazed up at him, pupils blown with his lust as a lazy concern bled through
the sharp green irises, made his breath hitch.

Edward was handsome, far more handsome than he, as impish features were topped by a
flame-coloured hair which was only half as bold as the man himself. But it was Edward's
gaze, so bright and brimming with the intelligence which defined him, that made him truly
beautiful.

And to have such a creature, as irritating as he could be at times, fixate him with such a look -
to see past the mess of scarring and damage which now constituted his broken body - was
enough to make him shiver once again

"No. It's never too much."

A flash in Edward's gaze as he somehow understood that the response meant more than just a
quick answer and his brow furrowed for a moment before letting it go, his hands slipping to
Crane's body as one gripped his thin hip while the other wrapped around his aching cock.

At the added stimulation, a noise somewhere between a mewl and a growl escaped Crane's
throat as he bucked into the soft touch.

No.

It was never too much.

 Riddler - Cane (5 sentence fic)

The slight whistle of the metal as it swishes through the air serves as the only warning before
a familiar sharp sting once again explodes through the senstive skin of your ass, the pain
radiating through the abused cheeks to leave behind a wicked heat that refuses to let up.

"Seven." The word bleats from your throat, strangled by the intense discomfort that forms
tears in the corners of your closed eyes.

Something blunt taps at your chin and your watery gaze opens to see the end of his cane, the
instrument he had selected to deliver this deserved punishment, hovering dangerously close
to your face.

"Tapping out already, sweetheart?"

Edward's words are laced with a teasing disappointment as he pins you with a questioning
gaze, a subtle scolding hiding deep within his features, and your head shakes with such
enthusiasm that it sparks a wry smirk at the corners of his tilted lips.
 Scarecrow - Tit Sucking

Splayed across his thin lap, the creak of the cheap office chair which housed you both adds
an almost thrilling edge to your sordid fun as you both await the inevitable collapse that will
send you hurtling to the floor in a messy pile of limbs.

His face carries a wonderful flush across the highest points of his defined cheekbones and
you run your thumb along the reddened skin with affection. The wire-rimmed glasses which
perch atop his nose do nothing to hide the predatory arousal that shines from his eyes as they
refuse to budge from the heaving chest which sits before them.

Your shirt and bra long since discarded, the cool air of his lair causes gooseflesh to rise across
your tits, the nipples tightening against the chill. Hanging as heavy as ever against your
frame, his fascination with your chest never failed to leave you unsatisfied.

"If you're good, I'll let you play with them." You tease, running a hand around his neck to pull
him slightly closer as your fingers wind through the brown strands of hair which sit at the
nape. "Will you be good?"

He doesn't wait for an answer and you grunt with pleasure as his lips lock around your right
nipple. His earnestness is apparent as he sucks at the sensitive nub and you grind yourself
hard against his lap in unspoken encouragement. His mouth is warm and wet, lips chapped as
hell but that was nothing new.

"Well, Dr. Crane, I ca-"

Your words are cut off by a low yelp as his sharp teeth worry at your nipple with a pressure
which walks the line between pain and pleasant discomfort. It's a sensation that sends a jolt
through your frame as a fresh wetness makes itself known between your splayed thighs.

Releasing your right nipple, the bud now reddened and peaked, he switches to the other as
your fingers continue to tangle in his shock of brown hair; simultaneously pressing him into
the pillowy flesh of your tits and pulling him away to ease some of the pressure of his assault.

It's a delirious pleasure, your nipples always having been more sensitive than most, and the
slight nipping of his teeth adds a layer of pain which makes it all the sweeter.

By the time he's finished with you, his lips looking significantly more plump due to their
frantic use, a series of livid marks are decorating your tits and the pressure of his cock against
your clothed sex speaks of his enjoyment of such a simple act.
 Scriddler - Shoe Humiliation

Tracing his finger along the metal edge of the gag, the ring felt warm beneath his touch;
Edward's lips and messy tongue having long since breathed a little life into it.

"Use your words."

Jonathan's words were condescending, his head tilted in amusement as he watched a thin
string of saliva trail from the corner of Edward's stretched lips to his exposed chest; the skin
there still reddened and marked from their earlier games.

The thought of the humiliation which was no doubt causing the flush of colour across
Edward's cheeks, as well as the interested twitching of his neglected cock, caused a fresh stir
in Jonathan's own slacks, a desire to push the sensation further making him hum in
consideration.

"Come to me, pet, and we'll see about a small reward for such good service."

Jonathan extended his foot, allowing the dark coloured shoe to hang in the air only a few
inches off the ground. Swirling it in expectation, his lips split into a cruel grin as Edward
shuffled across the hard flooring awkwardly; his wrist restraints making any movement
difficult as they remained tied to his ankles.

But he was nothing if not determined and he came to a swift stop before Jonathan, his
straining cock a mere inch away from Jonathan's foot

"If you want to get off," Jonathan cooed as he thrust his fingers within Edward's mouth,
pulling the genius forward an inch as a pained moan escaped the ring gag, "then you can fuck
yourself against my foot like the needy whore you are."

Despite the obvious discomfort it caused, Edward nodded as his glassy gaze appeared to see
right through Jonathan, registering his voice with greater clarity than the visual.

Relasing him, Jonathan pressed the top of his shoe to the shaft of Edward's cock, admiring
the pre-cum which quickly stained the material.

"Good boy."
 Deathstroke/Ras Al Ghul - Against The Wall

Accustomed as he were to violence, the sharp nails which hooked into the exposed skin of his
hips - pinning him into place with no hope of an easy escape - were a familiar and grounding
discomfort which Slade welcomed. The marble wall against his chest, just as harsh as the
sleek frame which held him against it, provided an excellent balm to the heat of his skin as he
grunted out his pleasure.

Shirtless already, as was tradition for combat, his combat slacks lay in utter tatters around the
arena; the fabric long since skillfully filleted to shreds by Ras' dual swords as they danced
around each other in their spar.

The cloying scent of incense hung in the air, making every breath heady and strained.
Regardless of winner, their battles always ended much the same with the only difference
being found in position and location of its two combatants.

"Ras?"

Speaking directly to the man whose lips were pressing to his upper back, sharp teeth barely
concealed as he maintained a steady, thrusting rhythm which brooked him no mercy, Slade
tilted his head over his broad shoulder.

Ras' salt and pepper hair stood in open disarray, their session having seen his composure drop
into an unspoken casualness, and a few strands had fallen across his lined forehead.

"Mercenary?"

Rolling his voice across the word as he heightened each accented syllable, Ras' pace did not
relent as he gave Slade his full attention. The emerald robe which hung from his shoulders
appeared truly stunning in how vividly it stood against his deep, olive-toned skin, every aged
blemish unnaturally erased by his continual dips in his mystical lazarus pits.

Unsure what he wanted to say as the words failed on his lips, Slade turned back to the wall -
pressing his dark eyepatch against the cool surface - and rolled his hips in encouragement, his
cock bouncing hot and heavy against his lower stomach with the frantic movement.

Needing no further motivation, the dance continued as both men relaxed into their positions,
each chasing the release which their mild bloodsport demanded.
 Scriddler - Ruined/Choking

"I want you to ruin me."

The hand in his hair tightened at the panted words and the discomfort of it keened something
low and pained from Edward's lips, his emerald eyes flashing as Jonathan twisted his head
upwards to pin him with his gaze like a captured butterfly.

"You don't want that. You want me to fuck you, hurt you in the ways you like, but you don't
want that."

"I do." Edward grunted, tilting his chin further to expose his neck to Jonathan's heated
features in a rare show of open invitation.

Jonathan thrust harder, the confession sparking a possessive drive which existed in the
delicate space between hatred and adoration. Below him, Edward shuddered at the sudden
burst of excessive force as the sharp movements forced his back to scrape across the
hardwood floor he were caged messily against.

Moans, broken and pitifully desperate, clawed free of Edward's throat as his fucked-out body
submitted to the familiar abuse with a willingness which never failed to steal Jonathan's
breath as a serpentine pleasure coiled around his chest.

"You'll be ruined for anyone else." Jonathan promised, to both Edward and himself.

"Yes."

"A broken whore, good for nothing but having a trained hole and a smart mouth."

Edward stuttered out a whine, his hips canting to meet every punishing thrust that Jonathan
was willing to offer.

"Hmm, that's a very pretty sound." Jonathan purred, his eyes lighting up with the satisfaction
of a child discovering a new plaything. "Let's see if we can do it again."

Having moved his right hand off the floor, Jonathan pushed two of his fingers within Edward
mouth, forcing themselves past the manageable area just beyond his tongue, and immediately
Edward's throat began to constrict, attempting to push the invading digits out as he coughed
and spluttered in place.

Pulling the two digits free, Jonathan allowed Edward to cough away his discomfort as
Jonathan settled into the role of tormentor with the familiarity of shrugging on an old coat.

"Soft and ruinable." Jonathan crooned, his crooked teeth splitting into a wicked grin; tongue
flicking out as though tasting the desperation in the air. "Such a good boy for me."

Thrusting his fingers deep within Edward's throat once more and without warning, the pads
of his fingertips brushed a patch of sensitive flesh and the resulting panic was beautiful in its
immediacy.

Eyes opening wide as his nostrils flared dangerously, Edward's every feature responded to the
sudden aggression with panic. The accompanying dry-heave was pathetic and miserable,
saliva quickly coating Jonathan's probing fingers as they refused any mercy while Edward's
body bucked against his with some force.

Emerald eyes - the rims reddening with every passing moment - shone with developing
moisture as a single tear broke free of Edward's right eye, travelling down his reddened and
blotched cheek as he fought to regain his familiar composure. His shock of firey hair lay in
disarray, made worse by the condescending hand of Jonathan as he pulled his fingers free to
pat and stroke his fingers through the wild strands.

The heat of Edward, stretched and speared as he were around Jonathan's cock, drew a fresh
hiss from Jonathan as his thumb dropped to dig heavily into Edward's hips with an obvious
intent to bruise. To mark up the pretty, lightly scarred skin which teased and tempted him at
every turn.

Pulling free until the tip of his cock threatened to break free of its claimed hole, Jonathan
rutted his hips forwards once more with a bestial snap and the resulting yelp of pain -
immediately sparking a fresh wetness in Edward's widened eyes - pulled his orgasm to a
messy completion.

Edward hissed something, the words too broken to be comprehensible and Jonathan
unleashed a satisfied growl as he noted the pathetic way in which Edward clenched around
him, buried deep as he were, to milk him for all he were worth as he chased his own pleasure.

"Wanton little thing." Jonathan purred. "Maybe it would be fun to completely ruin you."
 Scriddler - Somnophilia
Chapter Notes

TW for somnophilia and dubcon. They're a wretched pair at times.

Unconscious as he were, the loose quality of Edward's body gave his limbs all the control of
a marionette with its strings cut. Having collapsed hard, the gash on his arm, barely visible
through the slashed emerald suit, continued to drip a steady rhythm of beading blood to the
floor.

Knees splayed tightly on either side of his shoulders, Jonathan's grip of Edward's slick,
blood-matted hair was harsh enough that he was surprised that none of the strands were
coming loose between his clawed fingers.

His own shoulder ached like a bitch and a relentless sting needled across his jaw, the flesh
there angry and torn by Edward's sharp teeth, and his lips pulled back into a feral snarl; the
small movement causing the tear in his upper lip to open once again as a fresh wave of
discomfort washed over him.

Animalistic grunts spilled free of his mouth as his hand moved frantically across his length,
every stoke bringing him rapidly closer to the edge as a rage-tinged arousal surged through
his groin.

His cock, hot and heavy in his palm, showcased no shame at the quick finish as his release
arced messily across Edward's slack face; ropes cascading across his gripped hair and
features; one droplet falling prettily against his thick lashes.

Jonathan growled out his erratic orgasm, hips bucking involuntarily against the warm chest
below his clothed ass. Dropping his cock from its frantic grip, his pre-cum stained fingers
pressed against Edward's busted lips, forcing them open before scooping up a pearled score
of his cum and dragging it across Edward's tongue.

"When you wake up," he hissed at the prone figure as satisfaction curled around the vicious
words, "I want to make sure that you know exactly what's happened here. An eye for an eye,
Edward."
 Oswald/Harvey - T4T
Chapter Notes

A request from a friend 💖 some t4t OzHarv xx

Crawling up the vast bed - the memory foam thankful for its tensile strength as it groaned
under the fresh weight of both men - Oswald paused as he came to a stop between Harvey's
outstretched legs, his fingers splayed atop hairy thighs.

"Are you sure, Harv?"

"Yes."

Voice rough, lined with a tension which Oswald placed somewhere between arousal and
excitement, Harvey's head lay propped against a stack of pillows, the thread count of each
pillowcase dazzlingly indulgent.

"If you don't feel ready then we ca-"

"Stop hovering over me like a mother bird and just fucking touch me."

Amused by the demand, Oswald nevertheless emitted a soft squack of placating outrage as he
was spoken to so bluntly.

"If that's what you want, but let me know if it's too much."

A grunted response.

Almost giddy with Harvey's assurance that he was finally ready to play, Oswald adjusted his
lower body so that he could lay the swell of his gut against the bed comfortably and claim his
long-awaited prize.

The work of the surgeon was impeccable, the best money could buy in this neck of the world,
and the recovery time had proven quicker than either man could have hoped.

Oswald's hands dropped from Harvey's legs to instead narrow their focus to his inner thighs,
spreading the skin there gently as he admired the fat, pink cock which stood, painfully erect,
a few inches away from his smirking mouth. Genuine humour tickled at his senses as he took
in the thickness of the cock, its appearance pairing beautifully with just how wide the rest of
Harvey also was.

Every small scar lay against his skin with just as much beauty as the others which decorated
Harvey's broad form and Oswald unleashed a soft huff of breath as he traced a finger along
the healed tissue.

"Beautiful."

"Oz." Harvey growled in warning, his cock visibly twitching at the slight stimulation as it
sought out more.

As greedy as its owner.

Pink tongue slipping from between his teeth, Oswald slipped down to swirl it around the very
tip of Harvey's cock; the sudden move drawing a rough, punched-out sound from Harvey's
lips as his fingers curled within the sheets.

Oswald hummed at the familiar taste, quickly making another cheeky swipe of his tongue
across the ultra-sensitive flesh as he actively kept his sharp teeth at bay.

"I've missed this, Harv." Oswald groaned, allowing a slight desperate tinge to slip through his
tone. A vulnerability saved for he and he alone. "It's been too long."

"Haven't we been sweet to you? Did we not keep you happy while we recovered?"

Breaking off his ragged response with a graceless moan, Harvey recovered enough to
continue as a bright flush covered his unblemished cheek.

"Ungrateful bastard."

"You know what I meant. I missed this. A dance quickly gets boring when one partner is out
of commission."

Heat throbbed between Oswald's own legs, his groin throbbing in time as he pictured himself
rubbing his cock along Harvey's own; each thrust stoking the warmth within his gut as they
writhed against each other in shared bliss.

Closing his mouth around Harvey's cock, a gentle suck was all it took to have a thick hand
snapping to his head. Fingers dug against his skull as Harvey made a strangled noise, his hips
rocking off the bed in one sharp motion as he buried his cock deeper within Oswald's
ravenous mouth.

Oswald hummed, allowing the harsh grip of his skull to remain as it grounded him, and the
vibration of his lips rewarded him with a languid, almost suffering, grunt and his lips split
into a wicked smile as he settled in to truly enjoy the prize which offered itself up so
delightfully.
 Scarecrow - Masturbation
Chapter Notes

This is a mean-spirited fic involving Crane torturing some woman so he can get off. So,
y'know, mind the warning.

The screech of the metal door as Jonathan flung it open with his shoulder sparked a frown to
crease his brows as the unpleasant sound tore across his throbbing skull. Having narrowly
escaped the Bat, the self-righteous fool making the choice to save the small group of diners
whom stood as his unwitting toxin-laced hostages rather than pursue him, the lasting effects
of the unexpected encounter couldn't be ignored.

A swift kick to the head had unseated him, sending him hurtling to the floor in such a way
that Jonathan knew his hip and lower side would be stained with mottled purple bruising for
days to come. His left ankle also protested any movement, the bones there creaking with the
swiftness which he required to escape from the confrontation.

He would be in more pain the following day, once the assault had truly settled in to his flesh
and bones, his body in revolt as it kick-started the slow process of recovery. No blood at
least. That was something.

Jonathan dropped into his work chair and his fingers immediately went to switch on the small
monitor which lay to the right side of the desk. It crackled to life in an instant, showcasing
the nearby experiment area which sat in an offshoot room at the other end of the abandoned
warehouse; the stark white walls making him squint as their unbearable brightness assaulted
him.

There, on the screen, sat his current project. Her name unknown, he had picked her up from
the parking lot of some dingy diner which sat on the outskirts of Gotham, along the road to
Metropolis. Fully restrained against the chair which he had left her, she appeared to be
enjoying an uneasy sleep.

It was, however, somewhat difficult to tell through the mask she wore.

Blocking all sight and sound from her senses, the thick leather hood wrapped around her head
like a glove as her dirty blonde hair poked free from the neck of it, its appearance almost like
straw. It was striking in a way, the dark material standing out against her fair-coloured
uniform like a stain as her thin, exposed mouth provided the only hint to her emotional state.

Agitated and irritable, his own lips formed into a line as he observed her for a moment. Thus
far, she had proven his hypothesis well in her first experience of toxin, in that the removal of
certain senses resulted in a much faster onset of hallucinations and bodily responses. Her
screams were delightful, rough and animalistic without the typical tinniness of a woman, and
he had delayed her unconsciousness for as long as possible to enjoy them more thoroughly.

Agitated and irritable, his thoughts were tinged with the shameful rage of his earlier beat
down and he sought to rectify that as a cruel excitement curled within his chest.

Pressing the button to the side of the monitor, a small electric shock delivered itself to his
captive and the sudden jolt of pain rocked her from her sleep in panic, her body jerking in
position against the restraints as he turned the dial on the sound receiver.

"Help! Help me!" She cried out weakly, her voice still hoarse from its previous screaming.
"Please! He's gonna kill me."

Delivering another waking jolt, this one much longer and vicious, Jonathan felt a familiar
warmth trickling through his veins as it sparked a fresh cry from his unwitting captive.

Shame and adrenaline mixing with an unfiltered sadistic joy forced out a small grunt of
pleasure as Jonathan roughly tugged at his slacks, unzipping them enough to free his half-
hard cock and expose it to the cool air.

Jonathan stroked himself with an almost clinical precision, travelling his hand along the
length with a firm pressure which was guaranteed to quickly bring him to full mast. His
breathing grew more ragged with every slide of his palm until he jutted free of his slacks
without shame, his cock pointing towards his stomach with a familiar curve.

His hand, shaking due to the adrenaline and arousal which swirled in his gut, slipped almost
without thought, towards his beloved toxin as his ears perked once more towards the renewed
pleas of his captive experiment.

Uncapping the first vial of toxin, Jonathan brought it to his nose and inhaled deeply, the
slightest puff of the lurid chemicals being caught by his desperate nose as a low shudder
wracked his frame. His fingers were quick to replace the vial and he settled back into the
padded chair with the anticipation of a child awaiting the start of their favourite game.

As potent as ever, the hint of toxin spread through his system quickly, poisoning his arousal
with a fresh unease which made the heat in his stomach intensify.

Jonathan returned trembling fingers to his cock as his gaze flicked back to the monitor. She
was still yelling, her words laced with a futile desperation that spoke of her fear, her body as
tense as a violin as it anticipated another shock. A shock which he delivered with his free
hand, nothing too painful, but enough to catch her off guard mid-yell.

It worked and his cock twitched within his hand as her words were cutoff by a low scream,
her head thrashing side to side as she pulled against the restraints. Her movements were
beautiful in a way, the stuttering fluidity of an animal that were faced with some unseen
predator.

Turning in his seat, Jonathan unleashed a soft moan as the movement sparked fresh pain from
his battered hip and his hand paused on his length as he basked in the discomfort, allowing it
to melt with the pleasure and anxiety in such a way that his breath grew steadily more rattled.

A small bead a pre-cum trickled across his fingers and he spread it across his cock, using it to
smooth his actions as he continued to jerk himself off. His heart fluttered in his chest, the beat
roaring through his veins as true anxiety wove itself through the hot pleasure which boiled
within his groin.

His orgasm caught him a little by surprise, a particularly keening scream from his captive
forcing him to spill his release all over his fingers as a few droplets arced enough to splash
against the edge of his desk. The shock of it made his vision short-curcuit for a moment;
pleasure, adrenaline, and fear cultivating a torrid mixture of sensations as his free hand
gripped the edge of the desk for support.

Breathing hard through his comedown, a delightfully hot shame spread through his loose
bones.

Shame at having fled from the Bat.

Shame at having lost his self control.

Shame at the mess he had made.

But he pushed it down, allowing the feeling to marinate with the anxiety which continued to
race through his frame and his shaking fingers turned down the audio on his captive once
more. Glancing at her, Jonathan made a mental note to continue her experiment later that
evening, once he had allowed her to eat and take care of her bodily needs.

She had served her purpose for the moment.

 Riddler - Interrupt Breeding Kink

“Well, well, well.” A smug, thoroughly amused voice cut through your fantasies, the shock of
it like a bucket of freezing water across your heated frame. “Isn’t this quite the surprise?”

Dropping your fingers from your aching cunt, your surprise at his appearance momentarily
paused your brain as your legs remain open, splayed before him.

“Eddie, I-”

“No excuses.” He cut you off with a stern tut, his angry expression not quite meeting his
gaze, nor the obvious tent in his grease-stained slacks. “A good job is one worth finishing.
Continue on.”

“W-what?”

“Have you lost what little intelligence lies in that brain? Have you finger-fucked yourself to
stupidity? Continue. On.”

Finally reaching your position, the heat of his gaze sends a flurry of arousal through your
groin as fresh wetness pools along your slit. His hand wraps none-too-gently around your
wrist, forcing your wettened fingers towards your mouth.

“Open.” He demands and you follow without thought as a floaty submissiveness controls
your actions.

The tang of your own juices is familiar against your tongue as you lick along your fingers,
tasting yourself as per his unspoken demand.

“Incredible.” Edward announced in a very degrading tone. “So it can follow basic
instructions? Let’s take things one step at a time then. Strip. Now.”

Coated with sweat, his instructions had proven to be more than fulfilling for you both as the
night had worn on. Every inch of your shuddering frame felt simultaneously tense but jellied
as you focus on the myriad of sensations pushing across your sensitive skin.

Giving another lazy thrust, Edward hilts himself within you once again and the stretch of him
draws a low punched-out noise from your throat.

“When I’m finished with you, you’ll be dripping my cum like the whore you are for everyone
to see.” He growls, the patchiness of his unkempt stubble grazing your neck as he keeps you
pinned beneath him. “Such a pretty little doll.”

Shuddering against the cool flooring, your walls clench around him with every roll of his
hips, desperately trying to pull him deeper. Obscene noises, wet and messy, fill the space
between his degrading observations and the shame of them causes a flush across your cheeks.
His pace quickens, the grip on your hips tightening as his fingers dig deeply into your flesh,
and you can tell he’s close.

“Please,” you moan and the word catches in a pitifully broken way, “please, sir.”

With a particularly brutal thrust, his hips lay flush against your rounded ass and a flood of
heat warms you from within, his release joining the puddle of mess which, much like he
claimed, drips free of your aching hole.
 Scriddler - Voyuerism/Stalking
Chapter Notes

Enjoy xx

Arousal was a fickle mistress but as Edward danced through the shadows of the rapidly
darkening Gotham streets in pursuit of his unaware partner, he found it impossible to deny
the thrill of the unaware chase and the growing hardness which pressed uncomfortably
against his bottle green slacks.

At the other end of the street, his collar tucked high as a deep plum scarf covered most of his
identity, Jonathan Crane wove his way through the quiet streets, unaware of the stalking
presence which had been following him for some time now. Not for any nefarious purpose,
but Edward had found himself afflicted with a terrible boredom that sparked a mischievous
desire to play a game with his unassuming partner.

Thus far, things had been simple enough. Jonathan had visited a local pharmacy to pick up a
prescription under a name which did not belong to him and he had returned to walking the
streets with purpose. Which purpose, Edward was unsure, but the thrill of the uncertain made
his steps light as he maintained a steady distance.

The sun disappearing rapidly over the far horizon, Jonathan appeared to take advantage of the
declining light to turn on his heel and cut down a darkened alleyway.

Edward followed, tactfully using the shadows to remain hidden as he too rounded the sharp
corner.

Jonathan was no longer alone.

A man, his clothing cheap and ragged at the thin edges, stood opposite him and from this
perspective, Edward could only just make out the sickly features which broke free of the
man's face. An addict. One of Jonathan's contacts perhaps? A hench? An informant? Most
likely a dealer, given his threadbare presentation.

A soft noise emerged from Edward's throat in surprise as negotiations clearly turned sour and
Jonathan struck out with his fist, catching the dealer in the nose as an audible crack preceded
the howl of outrage which the man made as he fell backwards on his ass. It was unexpected;
violent and cruel but utterly delightful

Edward, unable to hear their dialogue, instead focused on his observations. Jonathan towered
over the unknown dealer, his impressive height allowing him an easy intimidation as he stood
with confidence.
Squeezing his thighs together, Edward could not ignore how hard he had grown. How his
fingers trembled with arousal as he watched from the shadows, unseen.

A sick, voyeuristic pleasure danced along his skin with every passing moment and he basked
in it like a cat in the early morning sun.

Curled around the wall for extra protection, Edward's groin pressed against the cool stone
roughly, almost rutting against it as he watched Jonathan approach the now-fallen man.

A glint of steel as a knife appeared in the fray and concern lanced through the arousal which
heated Edward's core but it quickly proved to be for nothing as Jonathan dipped to snatch the
shaky knife from the man's fingers. In one fell swoop, Jonathan dropped to his haunches and
drove the blade deep into the chest of the writhing figure.

Merciless.

Brutal.

Mesmerising.

Palming his cock through his slacks, Edward allowed the adrenaline sweeping through his
veins to guide his messy actions as the heel of his hand ground against his throbbing cock,
the friction wonderful against his hard, confined length.

A clenched fist blocked the sweet sounds which threatened to slip free his lips as his orgasm
struck him with urgency. It was wet and uncomfortable and so utterly wrong that he felt
almost light-headed as his free hand clutched at the wall for support.

A screech of approaching sirens caught Edward's attention and he pulled himself flat against
the wooden doorframe to his back as his body tensed. All too soon, an ambulance flew past;
its blue flashing lights screaming an emergency as the sirens and lights quickly grew less
intrusive with each passing moment.

Pushing off the door, Edward turned once more to see if Jonathan were still crouched over his
victim but his eyes widened in surprise as he was greeted with an empty space. The body lay
perfectly still, sightless eyes still staring up at the unbroken moon, but the murderer was
nowhere to be found. Glancing around, he crept closer to the corpse, assuming that Jonathan
had continued his path out of the alleyway onto the opposing street.

A gasp tore free of Edward's throat as he approached the corner, only to find his body
slammed into the alleyway wall, the damp stone there making him see stars for a moment as
his face found itself pressed against the hard surface by an unseen force.

"Unhand me at once you phili-"

"Did you enjoy the show, little voyeur?"

The question wrapped around his ears like a lovers kiss, forcing a renewed warmth through
his frame as Edward recognised the honeyed, yet mocking, tones.
"Jonathan." Edward muttered, confirming his suspicions as he tilted his head free of the wall
for a moment before finding it slammed back there by a rough hand. "Let me go."

"Why? You've been watching me, since I left the apartment I suspect, so why would I let you
go now when you've been so desperate for my attention?"

Unable to deny the accusation even as his cock stirred within his boxers once more, Edward
instead settled on open indignation.

"Desperate? For your attention? Don't flatter yourself, Cra-"

His words dissolved into a moan as Jonathan's thin hand pushed roughly against his overly-
sensitive cock, snaking its way up to fiddle with his zip as he made quick work of the button
holding Edward's slacks together.

A flush broke across Edward's skin. He wanted this. Wanted Jonathan to discover his little
secret. His hidden shame.

"Well, well, well." Jonathan deadpanned, his stoic words coated with an undeniable heat as
his fingers dipped within Edward's boxers. In less than a moment, he had discovered
Edward's little mess, two of his willow digits pulling free with what little remained of
Edward's spend coating the tips of them. "What a filthy beast you are. Did you come before
or after I killed him?"

Shame and embarrassment roiling within his frame, Edward kept his mouth shut as a fresh
flush spread across his cheeks. It was not the answer Jonathan wanted and Edward found
himself flipped in place, his back now pressing against the filthy alleyway as Jonathan caged
his body neatly.

"Before or after? Let's leave no secrets between lovers, even if one of those lovers is a
indecent boy with no shame."

"After." Edward muttered, pinned by Jonathan's sharp gaze as his head tilted messily against
the stone wall for support. "Just after you killed him."

Nodding his understanding, Jonathan pressed his groin against Edward's hip and Edward bit
back a soft groan at the noticeable hardness there. His head felt light, arousal and shame
swirling in such a way that his breath shuddered its way free of his chest.

"I provided a show for you," Jonathan smirked, his lips pulling into a sadistic smirk, "and
now I think I'm owed my own little performance."

Thin fingers pushed against Edward's lips and he opened them obediently, the familiar taste
of Jonathan's fingers mixed with the slight salted tang of his own release quick to coat his
tongue. His teeth nipped at the edge of the long digits and Edward found himself rewarded
with a stunted growl for his efforts.

"On your knees, Edward. The night is still young and the Scarecrow demands his due."
Regarldess how aroused he were, the pompous words still elicited a roll of Edward's eyes
even as he crouched down to his haunches. A performance, sure, but like hell he was
kneeling on his $800 suit in this piss-stained alleyway.
 Scriddler - Puppy Play #2

Running his fingers through Jonathan's russet hair as he remained on his knees before him,
Edward flashed him a smile that was dangerous in its earnestness.

"If you want to be leashed so badly then go and collect it." Edward's hand flicked out to point
at the leash as it sat atop the nearby desk, noting the flush of arousal in Jonathan's expression
as sharp eyes followed the direction of his hand.

Rising fluidly to his feet with a defiant growl, Jonathan quickly found his ascent halted by a
pianists finger looping through the metal hoop of the thick, leather collar which wrapped
around his neck like a second skin.

"Ah, ah, ah." Edward chastised with a heated shake of his head. "What kind of canine do you
know that walks on two legs? Crawl, pup."

Mouth slightly agape, Jonathan narrowed his eyes at the demand. He was too old, too proud,
too defiant. He would not be so easily controlled.

"Edward-"

His refusal was cut off by a pale hand clutching at his jaw harshly, snapping his mouth closed
with such force that a familiar taste of copper licked at his tongue.

"You heard me." Edward repeated, voice low and laced with the promise of danger. "Crawl,
pup, and fetch your leash. Or I'll have to bring out the muzzle."
 Captain Boomerang - Teasing

Flashing down a roguish grin which only serves to highlight the ragged chip in his left front
tooth, Digger's expression is painfully cocky as it stretches his chapped lips.

"Ready to come for your captain, babe?"

Barely restraining an eye-roll, your hands instead ghost along the tops of his shoulders as
they map out his thick frame.

"What kind of captain are you supposed to be anyway?"

His chest hair is sparse but coarse, a fact which is always surprising given his many hairy
features, and your thumbs rub at his nipples as he growls his immediate approval.

"The kind who's already at half-mast and you ain't even touched his first mate yet."

Taking the hint, your hands slide down his exposed chest to slip beneath his boxers. Like his
chest, his pubic hair is coarse, and a purr of appreciation escapes your lips as you wrap a
hand around his rapidly-hardening cock.

"That's no way for a captain to be talking to a lady. Terrible language from a man who should
know better."

Your hand pumps gently along his length for a moment before a girlish squeal breaks the
heated silence as he switches your positions, depositing you astride his upper thighs as your
hand remains wrapped around his twitching cock.

"A lady." He snorts; the sound messy and his disbelief clear. "Let's see what kinda language
the lady uses when she's riding my thick cock. Bet she begs for more of it."

He gasps as the tips of your fingernails drag across his sensitive cockhead and a look of open
challenge settles on your heated features.

"We'll see, captain."

 Riddler - Fucking Machine
Chapter Summary

This was a commission for a lovely lovely person and I'm thrilled they enjoyed it 🥰 xx

Pinned into place opposite his work desk, the restraints which wrapped around your thighs to
keep them spread and pinned against the wall were surprisingly comfortable; the thick bands
of padded metal allowing your weight to rest atop them effortlessly without digging into your
skin too deeply.

Your wrists suspended overhead, his ropework is as inescapable as ever as your arms hang
uselessly from a hook in the wall, bound into a tight, praying gesture. The nylon rope, a lurid
green which had you biting your tongue from making a cheeky comment, wound around your
arms in a pretty pattern to keep them together as you glance up at them with an appreciative
hum.

"Brilliant, isn't it?" Edward's smug voice catches you unaware and your eyes flick to his
position as he moves to stand before you, filling the space between your prone frame and his
work desk. "A perfectly crafted machine, designed to be a custom fit to reward and punish
wanton little whores who insist on interrupting important work time."

Unapologetic as a nervous smile tugs at your lips, you can barely make out the metallic
mechanism which sits beneath your spread legs due to the thick, dark silicone of the cock
which is pointing directly at your throbbing cunt; the heft of it commanding your attention as
your back arches off the wall.

"While you enjoy your little ride, I will be completing some very intricate mechanical
designs which a man of my brilliant stature finds necessary to produce from time to time."

His body inches towards you, the soft crack of a lid alerting you to the bottle of lubricant
which sits in his hands as he pours a little out and bends, presumably to coat his machine for
an easier entry.

As he stands, you push forward from the wall - as far as the restraints would allow - to
capture his lips in a filthy kiss. He tastes of coffee and, despite his clear surprise, he allows
the kiss to continue for a long moment, his blunt teeth nipping at your lower lip until he pulls
away.

"Whore." He accuses but there's no anger in his gaze and a very prominent bulge in his
grease-stained slacks as he pushes his thinning hair back with the green goggles which are
never too far from his head. "Regardless, everything appears to be in order."

Retaking his seated position at the desk, his fingers press on the small remote which sits off
to the side of papers he plans to focus on.

Immediately a faint whirring comes from the machine beneath you and your breath hitches in
anticipation; wetness pooling against your slit as you sit, fully exposed and revelling in the
shame of the arousal which curls within your gut.

The tip of the silicone threatens your hole and you exhale deeply as your body relaxes to
accept it. The material feels wonderfully cool against your heated skin as it pushes within you
at a snail pace, allowing you to acclimatise to the punishing girth inch by teasing inch. Your
teeth grit against the inhumane stretch as a mewl of discomfort breaks free of your lips.

Hearing the noise, Edward glances up from his papers, the small pencil in his hand pausing
its frantic scribble.

"Ah, ah, ah." He tuts, disappointment colouring his tone as he wipes the graphite from his
fingers to his off-white tanktop. "Surely your fragile little body isn't ready to give up already?
We've barely even started."

Determined to not give an inch, you bite back the hiss which builds in your throat as the
almost unbearable thickness stops its progression and begins to pull free, the friction against
your walls sparking a deep pleasure which makes you clench your fingers together in their
bound position.

The lube he has applied to the length did its job well as it allows the machine to set a steady
pace which was in equal parts torturously slow and wickedly intense as it forces you to feel
every movement. Your exposed tits jiggle slightly as your body shakes in place, a phantom
ache in your nipples making you wish that Edward's fingers or teeth were in the fray,
pinching them with his usual viciousness.

Edward gaze having returned to his work, you watch as his finger almost absent-mindedly
trails along the desk to tap at the small button on the remote control.

The effect is instant as the silicon dildo picks up pace, now moving in a relentlessly smooth
motion as it pistons in and out of your greedy hole. There's something deliciously shameful
about your position, legs spread and unable to close in such as way that nothing is hidden
from easy viewing, including your clit as it throbs with anticipation - awaiting a stimulation
which wasn't on the cards.

Pleasure builds steadily as each stroke brushes your most sensitive spots with an almost cruel
precision, the machine needing to take no pause for breath or to regain stamina. It's stunning
in its ferocity, in the lack of human warmth or care which it affords you as you sit like a piece
of meat, total victim to the whims of the man who is visibly pretending to keep his attention
on his work while stealing glances every few moments to watch you writhe in place.

Another button press and something guttural snaps free of your lips as the machine picks up
pace. It's brutal and unforgiving in a way that makes it difficult for your breath to regulate as
freshly stimulated nerves alight across your punished cunt. Your fingers scramble against
their restraints but it provides no relief as your first orgasm creeps up without mercy.

Riding the wave of pleasure, noises that exist in the space between moans and stuttered pleas
for help fill the space around you as your head slams back against the wall, the onslaught of
relentless overstimulation quickly growing unbearable.

Unseen due to your eyes being squeezed shut in desperation, Edward watches your torment
with a predatory expression; his gaze sharp and his features twisted into open hunger. One
hand taps away at the remote control which keeps his machine whirring away at a punishing
pace while the other hand appears suspiciously absent but no less busy as it seems to have
disappeared below his work desk.

The quiet of the room is long abandoned. Your broken grunts for mercy pairing sweetly with
the soft huffs and growls of pleasure that slip free of Edward's lips as he watches you suffer
at the hands of the machine that he so kindly deigned to provide for you. It was a casual
symphony that would be ongoing for many, many minutes to come. To last until Edward was
satisfied with his observations and the relentless pleasure-turned-torture had long since fried
your mind into the foolish mush that he often claimed it to be.
 Scriddler - Cockwarming (5 Sentence Fic)

Squinting at the equation, a soft snap of lead alerted Jonathan to the breaking of his pencil as
his heavy and frustrated lean proved too much for the soft graphite. Yet another
inconvenience and one which drew an animalistic growl from his chest as his hips jerked
forwards, his body instinctively redirecting his annoyance to another much more pleasurable
source.

His eyes dropped to the spanse of reddish hair which peeked out from below his desk, the
carefully coiffed strands having long since dissolved into a shock of mess given the rough
mishandling which it was subjected to whenever it took Jonathan's fancy.

Digging his hand within the soft hair once more, Jonathan tugged it back harshly -
suppressing a groan as his spit-slicked cock was pulled free of the willing lips - until he could
form solid eye-contact with Edward's glassy and strung-out gaze.

"I'm sure that talented throat could use a break," Jonathan observed with a rough yet
commanding tone, "so be a smart boy and go fetch me some fresh writing utensils."
 Captain Boomerang - Hate Sex

As with all things, the tension finally boils over after one sarcastic comment too many but as
Digger's chapped lips press against your own, a sense of victory alights in your chest that you
had not been the one to give in first.

He's not a bad kisser; his enthusiasm making the scruff of his beard score along your much
more softer skin as his nasty tongue forces itself into your mouth with a soft moan on his
part. He tastes like beer, the residual drops of his preferred drink making your nose crinkle
even as his hands loop around your hips to hold you in place.

Heat pooling in your groin, you feel almost dazed as he pulls back with a bright grin.

"Man, if you fuck half as well as this then I might have to get on one knee here and now." He
announces, thick accent skipping over the syllables as his fingers continue to grope roughly
at your hips.

"That mouth of yours needs washed out." Wrapping an arm around his neck, you hold
steadfast against him deliberately brushing your thigh against his groin in a playful tease.

"Depends on what part of you is doing the washing." Digger grins, eyes dipping to the short
skirt which hangs just above your knee as his hands drop to his waistband. "At this point, I'll
take whatever's going if it means i get a ride."

Rolling your eyes at him, you press harder against his groin. "Yeah, we'll see who's fucking
who."

Shoving at his chest roughly, the force catches him off guard and he falls to the couch with a
comically shocked expression, his hands still fumbling with the zipper of his slacks.

Without giving him a moment to gather himself you slide atop his lap, skirt pooling around
his hands as you place your fingers on his stained white shirt, deftly freeing the top few
buttons to expose the russet hair which covers his chest.

"Hairy." You comment, tugging at the expanse of fuzz with pinched fingers.

"Sign of a real man, doll." He answers without missing a beat, toothy smile ready to go even
as his clumsy fingers finally free his slacks enough to expose the dingy grey boxers below.

From this vantage point, it's easy to see the thick bulge which is desperate to be freed of his
confines and you drop a single finger to run along the heft of it.

"Poor baby," you coo, grinding your groin against his thighs, "I really make you feel that
needy."

A playful growl breaks free of his throat as his thick fingers slip under your skirt to skim
along the thin fabric of your panties, even the soft touch enough to alert him to the wetness
which has gathered them.

"Likewise!" He laughs throatily. "You're soaked, sweetcheeks."

"I don't have a rubber."

"I'm clean. I swear! Got the little guy checked out a few weeks ag-"

"If you're lying then I'll cut it off." You warn, hand finally dipping within his boxers to wrap
around and free his hard cock. He's short but gloriously thick and the base of his cock is
covered with a thicket of russet pubic hair, the slightest hints of grey flicked throughout as it
matches his chest hair. You clench your fingers around the base of it, admiring the way his
body jumps to attention at the rough sensation. "Deal?"

"Mmm hmm. Yeah! Whatever you say, sweetheart." His voice is deep, arousal pulling his
syllables even lower as he bucks into your hand. "Cut it off. I heard ya."

Raising to your knees, you pull the fabric of your panties to the side and drag the head of his
cock along your slit, coating him in your arousal for easier entry. A bolt of pleasure forces a
shudder as his cock brushes roughly against your clit, a sweet sigh breathing from your lips at
the contact.

"Be good for me?" You ask, teasing his cock as it presses against your hole, just waiting to be
allowing entry.

"Never. I'm a bad boy and no good at following instructions. Failed most of my classes in
school. Proper dipshit."

The comment catches you off guard and causes a pretty giggle to bubble up from your chest.
Wet and ready, you adjust him slightly with your hand and you press against the head of his
cock, allowing it to slip within you even as the slight stretch forces your breath to hitch.

God DAMN he was thick and, judging by the smug smirk which tilted his lips, he knew it.

"Gotta say, your tighter than I though ya would be."

Your hand collides playfully with his cheek, the slap sounding more aggressive than it was
intended to be but it has the desired affect as his face twists into a determined scowl and his
hips jerk off the couch roughly, impaling every inch of him within your cunt in one rough
thrust.

A noise somewhere between a groan and a growl slips free of your lips at the sudden fullness,
the deliciousness of his stretch quickly melting away the discomfort as the heat of his hands
pins you into place. He's filthy and masculine, his fingers leaving the slightest hint of dirt on
your pale skirt as the scent of him, woody and tinged with musk, swirls around your senses.

Clenching without thought, a similar grunt of satisfaction rolls through his frame and your
hands are quick to drop to his chest, once again planting themselves within the thick crop of
chest hair as you roll your hips on his cock and slowly begin to fuck yourself.
Digger allows you to set the pace. His hands remain on your hips but they only seem
determined to keep you stuck on his cock rather than to guide your movements. The steady
rise and fall has your breath coming in short bursts as the girth of him pulls at your walls to
spark the most delightful heat which leaves you wetter with every passing moment.

"You're so tight, babe. Wet as a slut and twice as up for i-" A yelp stopped his words in their
tracks as your fingers slipped further into his open shirt to pinch and tug roughly at his
nipples. They were already hard and he seemed to appreciate the rough treatment as his cock
jerked within you, hands pulling you down for another brutal thrust.

"Do you like a rough touch, babe?" You ask, throwing the petname back at him as you shake
your head with a mocking lilt. "And you had the cheek to call me a slut."

"Do that again and I might blow my load early." He warns with a daring grin. "Then how
would we have fun?"

Tugging at his curled hair, his head falls back in open invitation as you dip forward and lick a
soft line across his throat. He tastes of sweat and cheap cologne, the mixture heady, and you
keep a harsh grip of his hair as you squeeze around him.

"I don't know, Captain, I'm sure that big mouth of yours is good for something other than
talking shit."

If anything, the look of utter arousal which washes over his face at the obvious suggestion
was almost enough to make you regret that you hadn't taken the opportunity to sample his
skills before fucking him. However, as he shifted forward, his blunt teeth scraping along your
neck in kind as he renewed his assault on your aching cunt, you supposed that there was
always time for a second round against the ropes.
 Scarecrow - Scarebeast Overstimulation (5 Sentence Fic)

Between the thick length which impaled him in the most delicious way and the textured
tongue which seemed determined to strip the very sanity from him as it curled around his
length and lapped at every inch of him, Crane had long since given up trying to resist the
overstimulation as he lay, exhausted and utterly spent, against the thick pelt which enveloped
him.

"We could have it all," the inhumane voice purred into his ear as it often did, "if you would
only let go and accept the beast within."

Peering into the distorted face which housed too many rows of sharpened teeth to be the
spawn of any natural fauna, Crane found his own eyes reflected back at him and the shock of
it make his spine stiffen.

"What are you?"

A lazy thrust shortened out his questioning once again as pleasure, the intensity of it burning
at his sweat-soaked skin, flooded his body and his fingers grasped at the dark fur-like
material which curled below his crooked fingers.
 Scarecrow - Forced Deepthroat

"Open your eyes, little mouse, before I force then open with one of those other devices I
know you enjoy."

It's a callous claim, one which brings a smirk to his chapped lips as he watches you shudder
around his cock, the tip threatening the back of your throat once more while he delights in the
terror that his various medical 'toys' bring you.

"Maybe I'll even let you choose." He continues, a thin thumb brushing away an errant tear
which sits high on your bruised cheek. "Would you like that?"

Knowing better than to deny it, your nod is pathetic as the limited movement betrays the
anxiety in your chest. A desperation to please making you willing to endure the shame if it
meant sparing your body, even for a while.

Unable to truly do anything but allow him to use you as an object for his own gratification
due to the harsh dental gag which splits your jaw open to breaking point, your knees grind
against the cold stone flooring as he pulls your head around like that of a doll. He forces you
along his thin length, alternating the depth to ensure that you stay anxious and unaware of
when he next plans to stab himself deep within your bruised throat.

Your face is a mess. The heat in your upper cheek telling of the mark which sits there - a
result of his open palm streaking a fresh heat atop an old bruise - as tears stream freely of
your panicked eyes, the mess there matched by the sticky patch of saliva and pre-cum which
drips free of your opened lips.

It's a rancid, churning humiliation which makes your chest shudder with every steady drip
that falls free to land on your heaving tits.

"Take it all, whore." Crane growls out, the words stuttering as his cock jerks within your
throat as he finally - finally - takes mercy on you and comes. In an instant you can feel the
heat of his release as it burns down your throat and your vision darkens for a moment while a
light-headedness stemming from the steady lack of oxygen threatens the edges of your
senses.

His fingers burn against your scalp as he pulls the hair there so roughly that you can feel
strands popping loose as he shakes your skull viciously, ensuring that every drop of his
release is pumped straight down your vulnerable throat as you retch around his cock with a
woeful terror.

On the verge of passing out, his cock pulls roughly free of your lips and your lungs burn as
they inhale deep breaths of oxygen even as you choke and splutter and sob out your
mistreatment. His hands are still buried within your hair and you can feel his eyes pinned to
your face, drinking in every misery which you cannot hide.
"Not bad, little mouse." He praises, the words more mocking and shameful than any insult he
could hurl. "I predict that you'll be fully trained within the week, should these results
continue to improve."
 Riddler - Toilet Sex

Your back pressing roughly against the door to the dingy cubicle, it was only by the grace of
the two fingers which press insistently against your tongue that keep your moans from
escaping too loudly as Edward hilts himself within you once again with a messy thrust.

"If you insisnt on making those pathetic little noises around my fingers then I'm going to
have to gag you properly."

A shudder rolls across your skin as his words brush your ears, his head dipping to the
senstive crook between your neck and ear as he peppers the area with small bites - his teeth
sharp as they catch your skin and suck livid marks onto the vulnerable flesh.

"But then maybe that's what you want, maybe you want Cobblepot to find us in here with you
wrapped around my cock like a whore?"

It was a tease but the result was undeniable as hot shame makes your breath hitch and your
legs tighten around his waist, taking every inch of him with a renewed and almost desperate
rhythm.
 Riddler/Penguin/Reader - Threesome

Almost as unforgiving as the man himself as he lounged on the plush loveseat within his
office, Oswald's cock held the same thick quality which defined the rest of his frame as he
buried the final inch of it within your ass; his slow pace and gently groping hands providing
just enough pleasure to your trembling flesh to make the pain tolerable as you press your
back into his chest.

"Easy little songbird," his voice is surprisingly soft and threaded with a familiar husky
arousal, "we don't want you to break."

"Not yet anyway-" Chimed in Edward's slick showman voice from between your spread legs
as he trailed a saliva-coated thumb down your slit before slipping it back up to rub deft, quick
circles around your aching clit. "But we'll come to see just how well you can handle us both
before the night is through."

Already treading the line of overstimulation, the thought of Edward hilted within you - his
longer cock brushing against those wonderful spots that made you see stars - was one which
sent a thrilling tremor of mixed apprehension and anticipation rolling through your heated
skin.
 Scriddler - Stalking

Arousal was a fickle mistress but as Edward danced through the shadows of the rapidly
darkening Gotham streets in pursuit of his unaware partner, he found it impossible to deny
the thrill of the unaware chase and the growing hardness which pressed uncomfortably
against his bottle green slacks.

At the other end of the street, his collar tucked high as a deep plum scarf covered most of his
identity, Jonathan Crane wove his way through the quiet streets, unaware of the stalking
presence which had been following him for some time now. Not for any nefarious purpose,
but Edward had found himself afflicted with a terrible boredom that sparked a mischievous
desire to play a game with his unassuming partner.

Thus far, things had been simple enough. Jonathan had visited a local pharmacy to pick up a
prescription under a name which did not belong to him and he had returned to walking the
streets with purpose. Which purpose, Edward was unsure, but the thrill of the uncertain made
his steps light as he maintained a steady distance.

The sun disappearing rapidly over the far horizon, Jonathan appeared to take advantage of the
declining light to turn on his heel and cut down a darkened alleyway.

Edward followed, tactfully using the shadows to remain hidden as he too rounded the sharp
corner.

Jonathan was no longer alone.

A man, his clothing cheap and ragged at the thin edges, stood opposite him and from this
perspective, Edward could only just make out the sickly features which broke free of the
man's face. An addict. One of Jonathan's contacts perhaps? A hench? An informant? Most
likely a dealer, given his threadbare presentation.

Edward, unable to hear their dialogue, instead focused on his observations. Jonathan towered
over the unknown dealer, his impressive height allowing him an easy intimidation as he stood
with confidence.

Squeezing his thighs together, Edward could not ignore how hard he had grown. How his
fingers trembled with arousal as he watched from the shadows, unseen.

A sick, voyeuristic pleasure danced along his skin with every passing moment and he basked
in it like a cat in the early morning sun.

A soft noise emerged from Edward's throat in surprise as negotiations clearly turned sour and
Jonathan struck out with his fist, catching the dealer in the nose as an audible crack preceded
the howl of outrage which the man made as he fell backwards on his ass. It was unexpected;
violent and cruel but utterly delightful
Curled around the wall for extra protection, Edward's groin pressed against the cool stone
roughly, almost rutting against it as he watched Jonathan approach the now-fallen man.

A glint of steel as a knife appeared in the fray and concern lanced through the arousal which
heated Edward's core but it quickly proved to be for nothing as Jonathan dipped to snatch the
shaky knife from the man's fingers. In one fell swoop, Jonathan dropped to his haunches and
drove the blade deep into the chest of the writhing figure.

Merciless.

Brutal.

Mesmerising.

Palming his cock through his slacks, Edward allowed the adrenaline sweeping through his
veins to guide his messy actions as the heel of his hand ground against his throbbing cock,
the friction wonderful against his hard, confined length.

A clenched fist blocked the sweet sounds which threatened to slip free his lips as his orgasm
struck him with urgency. It was wet and uncomfortable and so utterly wrong that he felt
almost light-headed as his free hand clutched at the wall for support.

A screech of approaching sirens caught Edward's attention and he pulled himself flat against
the wooden doorframe to his back as his body tensed. All too soon, an ambulance flew past;
its blue flashing lights screaming an emergency as the sirens and lights quickly grew less
intrusive with each passing moment.

Pushing off the door, Edward turned once more to see if Jonathan were still crouched over his
victim but his eyes widened in surprise as he was greeted with an empty space. The body lay
perfectly still, sightless eyes still staring up at the unbroken moon, but the murderer was
nowhere to be found. Glancing around, he crept closer to the corpse, assuming that Jonathan
had continued his path out of the alleyway onto the opposing street.

A gasp tore free of Edward's throat as he approached the corner, only to find his body
slammed into the alleyway wall, the damp stone there making him see stars for a moment as
his face found itself pressed against the hard surface by an unseen force.

"Unhand me at once you phili-"

"Did you enjoy the show, little voyeur?"

The question wrapped around his ears like a lovers kiss, forcing a renewed warmth through
his frame as Edward recognised the honeyed, yet mocking, tones.

"Jonathan." Edward muttered, confirming his suspicions as he tilted his head free of the wall
for a moment before finding it slammed back there by a rough hand. "Let me go."

"Why? You've been watching me, since I left the apartment I suspect, so why would I let you
go now when you've been so desperate for my attention?"
Unable to deny the accusation even as his cock stirred within his boxers once more, Edward
instead settled on open indignation.

"Desperate? For your attention? Don't flatter yourself, Cra-"

His words dissolved into a moan as Jonathan's thin hand pushed roughly against his overly-
sensitive cock, snaking its way up to fiddle with his zip as he made quick work of the button
holding Edward's slacks together.

A flush broke across Edward's skin. He wanted this. Wanted Jonathan to discover his little
secret. His hidden shame.

"Well, well, well." Jonathan deadpanned, his stoic words coated with an undeniable heat as
his fingers dipped within Edward's boxers. In less than a moment, he had discovered
Edward's little mess, two of his willow digits pulling free with what little remained of
Edward's spend coating the tips of them. "What a filthy beast you are. Did you come before
or after I killed him?"

Shame and embarrassment roiling within his frame, Edward kept his mouth shut as a fresh
flush spread across his cheeks. It was not the answer Jonathan wanted and Edward found
himself flipped in place, his back now pressing against the filthy alleyway as Jonathan caged
his body neatly.

"Before or after? Let's leave no secrets between lovers, even if one of those lovers is a
indecent boy with no shame."

"After." Edward muttered, pinned by Jonathan's sharp gaze as his head tilted messily against
the stone wall for support. "Just after you killed him."

Nodding his understanding, Jonathan pressed his groin against Edward's hip and Edward bit
back a soft groan at the noticeable hardness there. His head felt light, arousal and shame
swirling in such a way that his breath shuddered its way free of his chest.

"I provided a show for you," Jonathan smirked, his lips pulling into a sadistic smirk, "and
now I think I'm owed my own little performance."

Thin fingers pushed against Edward's lips and he opened them obediently, the familiar taste
of Jonathan's fingers mixed with the slight salted tang of his own release quick to coat his
tongue. His teeth nipped at the edge of the long digits and Edward found himself rewarded
with a stunted growl for his efforts.

"On your knees, Edward. The night is still young and the Scarecrow demands his due."

Regardless how aroused he were, the pompous words still elicited a roll of Edward's eyes
even as he crouched down to his haunches. A performance, sure, but like hell he was
kneeling on his $800 suit in this piss-stained alleyway.
 Scarecrow - Restraints (Sub!Crane)

The thin strands of his dark hair appeared almost black as they remained plastered to his
forehead, the sheen of sweat there impressive as another bead rolled down his temple to drip
free of his strained features.

"You're being extremely uncooperative, Dr. Crane." You chastise, rolling the pad of your
thumb across his ultra sensitive cockhead; the skin there delightfully pink due to your
constant ministrations and torments. "I think my patient needs another stern lesson in
remembering his manners."

His chest heaves at the prospect but the sturdy, off-white straight jacket which binds his arms
around his thin chest make any real escape from your cruel fingers impossible as they curl
around his cock once more - the stiffened length jutting free of his naked lower half as he
remains in place, fully restrained to the gurney.

Muffled pleas which had no doubt dissolved into vicious, mewling threats by this point,
promising violence and retribution for all the wickedness he had so willingly allowed himself
to be victim to, were his only defense against your wickeness.

But he was beautiful in his desperation. Beautiful like this. Bright blue eyes almost brimming
with frustrated, overstimulated tears as his moans and screams were continually blocked by
the thick fabric gag which lay gripped between his white teeth.

At this point, he had nothing left to give. His previous releases were all stained across the
lowest straps of straight jacket with some errant droplets having being scooped up by your
fingers and brushed along his lips. A perfect paint for such a stunning canvas.

"Let's try for one more." You purr, hot arousal pulsing through your own veins as his head
moved frantically; genuine fear alighting behind his eyes as he looked into your own and saw
a familiar merciless and sadistic joy reflected back.
 Telltale Riddler - Teasing

Lapping at the tip of his cock with an almost childish enthusiasm – the salted taste of his pre-
cum staining your plumped lips – the amusement dances in his firm expression, even as his
hand tightens the leash with remains gripped between his deft fingers.

His lined face remaining stern despite his relaxed stance, Edward’s frown deepens the
grooves of his forehead further as his salt and pepper hair remains in place and he shakes his
head grimly.

“Tease me and I’ll tease you right back, sweetheart. Don’t play foolish games you cannot
ever hope to win.”

You offer him a coquettish smirk as you glance up from your kneeling position. The collar
against your throat lies heavily against the sensitive skin there and you swallow against it,
loving how solid it feels as it presses against you with every shallow breath. Taking the hint
from his warning, your lips wrap around the first two inches of his cock; tongue curling to
expertly massage the throbbing head as a soft gasp of surprise flits across your ears.

Knowing that you’ve caught him off guard, you ease your head along his shaft while tactfully
ignoring any eye contact, following the natural rhythm of your bobbing head to quickly set
up a decent pace.

“If you’re so desperate to swallow me down then don’t let me hold you back.” Edward
grunts, his hand once again tugging at the dark leather leash which connects to your collar. “I
might even design a contraption to lock you down like this. Keep you as a personal toy to
service me as and when I see fit.”

Knowing that such a thing was already in development within the dark recesses of his
workspace, you feign ignorance and moan around his cock at the thought.

Your head slips forward in one smooth movement, the angle allowing his cock to breach past
your mouth and push down into your throat; the immediate panic of the loss of easy oxygen
causing a full bodied shudder to rock through your frame even as a strangled growl of
surprise rewards you for the commendable effort.

“Little whore.”

Two words, but they are the only two words you pick up over the thudding of your heart as it
pulses in your veins and your nose remains pressing against the thick patch of pubic hair
which decorates the base of his cock.

As the dampness of your cunt makes itself known against your thighs while you rub them
together and swallow him as best you can, you can admit to yourself that his words are fair.

A little whore.
But only for him.
 Scarecrow - Electroshock

Fully restrained on all fours, the electrodes which pressed harshly against your temples were
a constant source of terror as you awaited the next burst of electricity. Your mouth stretched
painfully open by the o-ring gag which kept your teeth away from the delicate skin of your
tongue, your eyes streamed freely as fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

"The patient is learning quickly." Crane grunts and you keen out a whimpered noise of
distress as his hand collides with the exposed skin of your ass, his cock still buried so deep
within your aching sex that you can feel the burn of the stretched skin with every small
movement. "Perhaps her treatment is working better than expected."

A blinding pain arcs through your skull as Crane's fingers press unseen at the button to
deliver a fresh electroshock, the intense agony making your body seize in position as your
teeth clamp down on the unyielding gag. It's over just as quickly, with your vision swimming
dangerously as your head lolls to the side, unable to support itself as it throbs in pain.

"So tight as your body spasms around my cock." Crane grunts and his thrusts are merciless
and cruel as he attempts to drive you through the floor you were restrained atop. "It would be
so easy to let the machine run and turn you into a broken little doll, something that exists
only to fuck and follow instruction."

The temptation is there in his tone as he muses on your fate softly and you only hope that
he'll finish quickly before the temptation to indulge those more sadistic considerations grew
too appealing.
 Scriddler - Blood Kink

The yelp which tore free of Edward's throat as Jonathan drew the small blade across the skin
above his nipple existed somewhere in the questionable space between pleasure and pain - a
division which was quick to make itself clear as Jonathan latched on to the peaked nipple, his
bloodied lips brushing the small cut.

Rolling the nub of Edward's nipples between his teeth for a moment, Jonathan admired the
coppery tang against his tongue and the familiarity of it make his cock jerk as it bobbed
against his stomach. A small patch of pre-cum stained the spot where his cock met the skin
and it was quick to smear as he rutted himself against Edward's thigh.

The scent of blood and sex hung thick in the air and the intensity of it drove both men to their
absolute worst; Jonathan indulging his sadistic desires with gusto while Edward only grew
more pliant and willing beneath his fingers. The dead of the night found both men in their
shared bed, a tactful sheet placed below Edward's body to catch some of the mess of their
frenzied coupling - the soft fabric long since stained by a twisted mixture of blood, cum, and
lubricant.

Deeply entrenched in the delirium of the toxin-laced aphrodisiacs which coursed through his
pulsing veins, Edward's green eyes were wide and glistening with unshed tears - the
intelligence which often shone so proudly now dulled by the sensations which tore his fragile
body from the inside out.

"What do you see, Edward?" Jonathan asked, his deepened tones giddy with unrestrained
arousal as his fingers curled around Edward's cock, the length still hard despite its previous
forced releases.

At the extra stimulation, Edward groaned a pathetic noise which made Jonathan's twisted grin
widen and he pressed a sharp fingernail into the unprotected skin of Edward's ultra-sensitive
cockhead. The result was immediate and violent as Edward's bloodied chest heaved and he
jerked up in a valiant attempt to throw Jonathan off his body, but was too weak to do so.

"I see you." Edward whimpered. "I see all your teeth and your claws and I see that you're
trying to rip me apart. Tear me to shreds and stitch up what's left."

Jonathan, delighted by the continuing effects of his toxin and how perceptive Edward
continued to be, snarled something victorious as his grip of Edward cock lessened and he
instead smeared the blood which covered Edward's chest into a messy swirl - a mark of
ownership which pleased the beast within.
 Nolan Scarecrow - Pegging

The grunts which escape his lips with every gentle thrust of the strap are delightfully pretty, a
sordid yet stuttered melody, as you watch the thin length of silicone disappear into his
writhing body – the tapered design of the strap allowing you to set the pace with ease as you
stretch him out slowly.

“You make such a pretty whore.” Wrapping a warm hand around his rock-hard cock, you
give it a few quick tugs and admire the way the extra stimulation almost causes his chest to
curl in on itself as he shudders out a shaking exhale. “Maybe I should buy you one of those
vibrating plugs. Something to keep you this pliant and needy for me all the time as it
stretches you out and ruins you for anyone else.” You continue as you tease him with a
conversational tone, considering the option with a playful smirk.

He really was beautiful like this. His dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat and his
sharp blue eyes fluttering as your snapping hips ensure that he gets no respite from the
pleasure you were so willing to offer.

It wasn’t often he allowed this shift in position but you treasured it more than you would ever
let on as your aching cunt clenched around the short, fat plug which was attached as part of
the strap you wore. The girth of it stretched your own walls as it shuffled within you, your
own arousal powering your hips to encourage the growing band of tension.

“Yes- yes!” He groans out, the words stuttering as his blue eyes fixate on your own and his
fingers claw into the sheets which his thin back is writhing against. His gaze is heated yet
dull, the wicked intelligence dimmed by a fucked-out glaze which rims his eyes with a soft
pink of unshed moisture.

“What are you? I want to hear you say it.”

To make a point, you rake your nails across his chest, admiring the reddish welts which
quickly spring to the surface as the nail of your thumb presses roughly against his left nipple.

Dignity thrown to the gutter by the punishing pressure which you are applying to his prostate
with every thrust, Jonathan’s hard cock smears a messy puddle of pre-cum across his stomach
as he answers.

“A whore. Your whore – something for you to ruin.”

Smirking at the easy admission, you shift to slap a rough hand to the skin of his outer thigh as
you deliver a particularly brutal thrust of the strap in reward.

“Good boy.”
 Nolan Scarecrow - Knife Play

The blunted edge of the knife trails a delirious path across your heaving chest, his fingers as
steady as those of a surgeon as he traces the tip of your left nipple; the sensitive nub puckered
and already a delicate shade of red from his sharp teeth.

“Aichmophobia. A fear of sharp objects.” Crane states, arousal poisoning every word. He
stands between your spread legs, towering over your writhing frame like a spider toying with
a particularly interesting fly. “A perfectly natural fear in my opinion. After all, one wrong
action and-”

The cool metal drops to slice across your abdomen and a whimper escapes your lips as your
body arcs away from the blade, awaiting the razor-sharp pain which always accompanied
such a movement. But it wasn’t to come, and your breath hitched with relief as he presented
the dulled edge of the blade before your eyes.

“-but that would be too easy.” Crane continued, blue eyes flashing with something possessive
and dangerous; a look which sparked a deeper fear than his love of knives ever could as you
were threatened by the madness there.

Yelping as he flips you over to your stomach, he doesn’t allow for you to even catch your
breath before his cock is forced deep within your cunt. The stretch is immediate, and a low,
strangled moan is all you can manage before he sets off on a brutal pace. It’s pleasure and
pain rolled into one, the discomforting ache of your abused sex quickly being offset by the
wicked way in which his cock roughly brushes your sweet spot; every thrust beginning to
spark something electric within your groin.

The tickle of his knife as it grazes the sensitive skin just below your neck makes you freeze
like a rabbit in the headlights and the sudden tension in your frame makes him growl once
again – the quickened pace of his hips never ceasing as every deep thrust makes it feel as
though he were attempting to drive you through the heavily varnished wood of the table you
were now fully bent over.

Fully buried within you, his voice is suspiciously gruff as he presses the cold edge of the
blade against your spine, gooseflesh rapidly rising at the site to spread across your sweat-
slicked skin.

“So perfect for me, pulling me deeper with every thrust. I think you were made for this role,
little mouse. A perfect, willing hole for a madman. How degrading.”

Clenching around him with a shudder, his short speech fluttered off into a bestial grunt as the
hand which had been digging into the rapidly bruising flesh of your hips wound its way
around your throat like a snake; forcing your breathing to stutter as a squeak of surprise
filtered past his fingers.

“Even my hand around your throat make you moan like a whore for me. So beautiful,
especially when my little blade makes you so good for me.”
Knowing the truth of his words, your knees spread further to allow him all the easy access he
needed to your aching holes as you gulp against his fingers, nodding your frantic consent to
his cruel words as you fully allow his madness to envelope you both.
 Poison Ivy - Vine Bondage

The heat of the early afternoon mixes with the natural humidity of Ivy’s lair as you stretch
your arms overhead, enjoying the soft exhale of her breath against the nape of your neck.

“Morning.” She drawls, the words muttered directly into your ear, and she places a small kiss
below your left ear before sitting back upright, her naked groin hot against your lower
stomach as she straddles you.

Her red hair, voluminous around her face like a molten halo, cascades down her back as it
fans out against her skin. Skin which held a vibrant green tinge that was an unnatural as it
was beautiful; every inch unmarred and as flawless as the woman who possessed it.

“Hello, gorgeous.” Purring your appreciation at the sight of her, your hands drift lazily along
her hips to mark out her figure with soft fingers. “Is someone feeling frisky this morning?”

In lieu of an answer, her hand is quick to dip down once again and catch your lips in her own.
The kiss is sweet, laced with a casual tenderness that speaks to the fact that neither of you
have anything better to be doing at the moment than enjoying the pleasures of the other, and
you moan lightly as she pulls away once more.

“Would you like to see my garden?”

Quirking a brow at her offer, you flick your tongue out to lick at your lips in an unspoken
answer as you push yourself up from the sheets, indicating for her to switch places with you.
A request which she fulfils immediately, and you find yourself straddling her hips; her chest
quickly finding itself warmed by your hands as you massage the skin there softly.

You startle as something slithers across the sensitive skin just below your chest and you
glance down to see one of her many vines – their positions littered across the walls – and it
secures itself like a harness, raising your back slightly.

“Ivy.” You gasp as more vines come to join the party, weaving along your skin almost like
rope as they secure and adjust you into a position where they control your entire movement;
your body now hanging only a few inches above Ivy’s own as she watches you with a
contented expression, one which sparks a deep flush of green high on her cheeks.

The vines wrapped around your body held you tightly in place but their pressure was more of
a comfort than a pain; each vine pulsating in such a way that they almost seemed to massage
the skin they encased.

“They like you.” Ivy purred, tracing her fingers along your jawline as she rises up to meet
you. “They know how good you’re going to make me feel.”

Wanting nothing more, you allow the vines to move and reposition you delicately between
her legs as Ivy falls back to her cotton-soft sheets. Visibly aroused, the glisten of her sex as
her fingers spread her lips – the dusting of red pubic hair curling gently against her skin –
forced your own cunt to clench in anticipation, your walls pulsing around nothing.

Pushed forward with a slight jolt, the vines press your mouth against her slit and your tongue
is immediate in its eagerness to work; swiping across her exposed lips before delving in
greedily to the prize below.

A muted gasp escaped the goddess above you, her hips involuntarily canting up to your
willing mouth as her fingers massage gently at the swell of her breasts.

“So good to me, my little peach.” Ivy hissed between breaths as your tongue flicked cheekily
across her clit. “So beautiful.”

Invigorated by the praise, your tongue swipes across her clit once more, enjoying the way the
simple movement makes her thighs visibly tense around you. She tastes sweet against your
lips, her natural pheromones making your skin burn with an unmatched heat, and the desire
for more draws a shudder down your prone frame as your cunt clenches around nothing.

Perhaps sensing your frustration, Ivy tilts her head to the side coyly.

“I shouldn’t be the only one having fun,” she teases as her fingers leave her chest only to
trace gentle circles around your nipples, the movement making you squirm and moan, “so
let’s see about trying something new.”

The strangled grunt which escapes your lips as one of her vines rubs itself against your
aching cunt quickly dissolves into a moan when it brushes against your most sensitive skin,
trailing across your clit with an almost electric energy. You bury what remains of your moan
in her cunt, quickly resuming your earlier adoration as the vines which hold your knees aloft
spread them further to allow for easy access.

Rocking your hips against the thick vine which is pressed between your thighs, the slick of
your sex is warm on the smooth surface as the tip of the vine continues to tease the sensitive
skin just above your clit.

“Ready, baby?”

Smiling brightly up at her, your head nods with enthusiasm as your thumbs brush across her
wrists, the weightlessness of the vines holding you in place making your heart thrum in your
chest with every frantic beat.

Running itself along your slit, the vine coats itself in your juices before pressing itself within
you, its movements gentle as it slowly stretched you open; retreating every few moments to
allow you the time to adjust before pushing in further. It was so different to anything else,
lacking the warmth of a human cock while keeping the sensation of being something alive as
it pulsated within you.

You settle into a rhythm quickly, every thrust of the vine pushing your lips harder against
Ivy’s sex as you continue to devour her like a woman possessed. The way it moves within
you is almost cruel; the discomfort of the stretch quickly being overtaken by the pleasure as it
twists and brushes along your most sensitive spots, leaving you a shaking mess as you suck at
Ivy’s clit with pursed lips.

Ivy’s moans match your own and her hand drop to your head, her fingers carding through the
strands there as she mutters out unintelligible praises, admiring your skills by the way her
body writhes against the sheets. She’s beautiful in her pleasure and the sight of it is enough to
snap that growing band of tension which stretches across your groin as your orgasm catches
you, almost off-guard.

Burying your cries of pleasure by pressing your mouth tightly against her hole, you can tell
she appreciates the vibrations of your muffled sounds by how tight her grip of your hair
grows and you’re not too surprised when you feel the telltale signs of her own orgasm. Her
head thrashing against the sheets, she smears your mouth against her cunt messily as she
rides out her pleasure on your face, coating your lips and chin in her release as soft moans
escape her throat.

Your fingers claw desperately against nothing as they remain bound in place by your sides
and your cunt clenches harshly around the vine as it never ceases its assault on your walls,
forcing your orgasm to drag itself out to the point of overstimulation even as you continue to
allow Ivy to use your face as she wishes.

Just as your body is getting to the point where pleasure is quickly turning to genuine
discomfort, the vine pulls free of your hole and you breathe a sigh of relief. The heavy sound
of breathing fills the room as both you and Ivy recover from your orgasmic highs and you
startle in place as the vines which bind you in the air shift you forward, following their
mistresses’ unspoken demands, until they have placed you gently in the space to her side.

They retreat slowly, pulling free of your sweat-laced skin, but they are quickly replaced by
Ivy’s arm as it slings itself across your chest to pull you close. The scent of sex and sweat
hangs heavily in the air but it means nothing as Ivy tilts your head to catch your lips in her
own.

It’s a sweet kiss, one which allows her to taste herself on your lips, and she hums contentedly
for a moment before pulling away.

“Did you enjoy that? I know I did. You’re quite the talented little thing with that tongue.”

Chuckling lightly, you trace a finger along her exposed stomach as you answer.

“I’ve never been fucked with a vine before. Can’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Ivy’s laughter joins your own and the cadence of it brings a genuine smile to your lips as you
settle in position, having no intention to move from this particular spot anytime soon.
 Zero Year Riddler - Breeding
Chapter Notes

This fic features a transmasc reader xx

Thick sideburns having scored the sensitive skin of your inner thighs to what felt like shreds
– a familiar side-effect of Edward’s oral enthusiasms – even the feeling of his soft fingertips
trailing across the chafed area felt like fresh fire and you groan out your discomfort with a
low whine.

“Don’t be ungrateful, handsome.”

Edward’s sharp green gaze is chastising, playfully unimpressed with the way which your
body tensed under his fingers as his cock continued to stretch your hole around it, his
movements paused in such a way that he left himself hilted to fully enjoy the sensation as
you fluttered around him.

“I’m close you know.” Edward confessed, rolling his hips to emphasise the stiffness in his
pulsing cock. “So now I need to decide what I’m going to do with you.”

“You can do whatever you want.” You pant out, fingers clawing into the sheets beneath your
hands as you blink up at him. His hand comes to rest idly on your chest as a sharp hiss of
pain escapes your lips, your eyes dipping down to see how roughly he is pinching your right
nipple between harsh fingers.

“Sir.”

A stern reminder.

“Sir.” You amend.

“Now I could pull free. Shove my cock between those lips and have you swallow me down
like a good boy.” His hand releases your nipple to muss at your hair, making a further
disarray of the messy strands there. “Or maybe I could come over that handsome face,
decorate those lovely features with my release and mark you up like the whore that you are so
that everyone can see what I see.”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir.” Breath catching in your chest as your blood roared within
your ears, the thought of his cock hung before your face as he came, warm release splashing
across your lips made your hole twitch in interest. “Please.”

“Or maybe I should finish inside. Pump you full of my seed and coat you from the inside out
with your hard-earned reward.”
Another twitch, this one much more definite and prolonged as you bit your lower lip harshly
to hide the groan which threatened to break free. Face flushing as heat burns across your
cheeks, your breath stutters as you open your mouth to give him what you know he wants.

What you both want.

“I want you to come inside me.”

“What was that?” Edward asks, his hand moving to push away the few strands of reddened
hair which had fallen across his forehead to stick to the soft sheen of sweat there.

“Come inside me.” You whine. “I want to feel it as you mark me as your whore.”

“Was that so hard?” Edward smirks, his palm colliding off the side of your ass in a
patronising slap which leaves a pleasant sting in its wake. His cock rapidly picks up pace,
every thrust growing more sloppy while the tickle of his pubes cushioning the slap of his
groin against your ass makes your nose twitch.

It only takes a few more thrusts and you can feel the telltale sign of his orgasm a moment
before it hits as his cock jerks within your hole and his release floods you, shockingly hot
against your sensitive inner walls as his fingers grip your hips to pull you harshly flush to his
groin.

His cock pulls free just as quickly and a low groan slips free of your bitten lips as his thin
fingers thrust themselves within your hole; an obscenely wet noise making you flush with
fresh embarrassment as his fingers push the come which was quickly attempting to drip free
back into your clenching hole.

“Not a drop wasted, pup.” He warned, his tone sated but bordering no argument. Edward was
diligent in his work, fingers ensuring that every droplet of his release was caught as they
stroked along your walls to paint you with your combined mess. It was humiliating yet hot as
fuck and your knees spread even wider, allowing him all the free access he needed.

“If you can keep this neat for the next five minutes then we’ll see about you being given your
own little reward.” Edward promised, his thumb brushing the fat nub of your clit with an
electric pressure which made your back arch in place. “If not then we’ll need to see about
introducing a plug to keep my favourite pup from making such a filthy mess.”
 Scarecrow - Hysteria

Having finished explaining your symptoms, your fingers pluck at the scalloped hem of your
skirt as the fabric hangs delicately just below your knee. The chair you occupy sits across
from the object of your focus, Dr Jonathan Crane, as you attend another session with the
good doctor, hoping to find some release from the torments which are afflicting you.

“Hysteria.” Tapping the edge of his leather chair with a thin finger, Crane observes you from
behind wire-rimmed glasses which flash as they catch the dimmed light above. “I believe you
are suffering from hysteria, based on the symptoms you have described.”

“What’s that?” You ask, thoughts racing as something heated shifts in the atmosphere of the
room.

“Hysteria.” Crane explained, raising one of his legs to cross the other as his fingers move to
steeple below his sharp chin. “A psychological response to sexual repression, one which can
manifest as a series of physical and mental ailments. Common for women of a certain,” he
pauses, “disposition.”

“Is there a cure?”

A predatory look slips into his features as he leans forward and the intensity of it sparks a
flush of arousal which makes your teeth press against your lower lip.

“Well first, the repression at play must be established. What is your deepest sexual fantasy?
The one which you would deny if accused.”

His voice has deepened ever so slightly, the southern accent curling around the question like
a serpent just waiting to constrict and choke its prey.

“I-I’m not sure that will hel-”

“I’m a medically trained professional.” Crane huffs out a low breath. “I can guarantee
discretion.”

The myriad of qualifications which cover the wall behind his chair hold a sudden interest and
your gaze pans across the official-looking documents as shame washes through your chest,
heating you from the inside out as a sweat breaks across your spine.

You mumble your answer, heat flaring in your cheeks as your eyes remain tactfully glued to
the wall just past him.

“Louder, child.” He drawls out, something teasing toying at the simple words. “Your evasive
responses make the answer clear but for the sake of progress you must announce it fully.”

“I want my doctor to touch me.” You blurt out, meeting his gaze with a nervous expression as
the confession spills free. “I want him to run his hands under my skirt and make me feel
good.”

Crane moves so quickly that it forces a squeak of surprise from your throat as he towers over
your seated frame. Your back presses against the leather seat as you gaze up at him, the scent
of cologne – woody and masculine – washing over your senses as he leans in closer, looking
every inch the cat who caught a very anxious canary.

“Doctor Crane, what are you doing?” You ask, the question little more than a whisper.

“Administering your cure. It’s an easy fix. Particularly for a wanton little thing who I bet is
already as wet as a whore from sharing her filthy fantasies with her patient doctor.”

Your breath hitches at the open vulgarity, thighs pressing together tightly as the dampness
between your legs grows more pronounced. A shudder runs across your skin as he drops to
one knee by your side, his face now on level with your own as his intense gaze pins you into
place. His eyes are beautiful, a robins-egg blue which have haunted your thoughts as your
hands moved frantically between your legs. Even with the limitless power of fantasy,
somehow this is still more erotic.

“Remove your hands from your skirt and place them on the armrests.”

A heated demand which brooks no disobedience and one which you follow with a muted
whimper, dropping the hem of the skirt and wrapping your fingers along the edges of the
leather arms.

“Spread your legs.”

Your knees part, legs visibly trembling as a bead of sweat rolls down your back, catching at
the base of your shirt. His expression is stoic, the only hint to his own arousal being the hint
of fire which flashes through his icy gaze and the definite bulge which juts free of his
darkened slacks.

A pathetic keen slips free of your lips as his finger disappears beneath your skirt to run along
the fabric of your cotton panties; his movements following the concealed slit there as he trails
his finger up slowly and feels out the undeniable dampness. It’s hot and teasing, the
movement forcing a fresh whimper as his fingers brushes by your clit before pulling away.

“You’re even more ready that I could have anticipated.” Crane comments, his words
disengaged yet somehow mocking as he lays his large palm flat against your slit, applying a
torturous pressure to the desperate skin there. “Perfectly responsive and in need of swift
treatment.”

“Please, Doctor Crane- just touch me. Please?” Hearing your own words, you’re so turned on
that you don’t even care how pathetic you sound. “Right there. Please!”

Taking pity, two of his fingers push past the fabric of your panties and bury themselves in
your cunt; the sudden, sharp pleasure drawing a low yelp from your lips as your right hand
jerks from the armrest to cover your mouth. The sudden fullness is intense, his wonderfully
long fingers meeting absolutely no resistance as the wet warmth swallows him with ease,
greedily clenching around his digits to pull him in deeper.

“I can feel that, little rabbit.” Giving an experimental crook of his fingers, the pads brush
along that soft spot in your walls which makes you see stars and you groan out your approval.
“I can feel you trying to take it all, begging for more like a whore. A whore who spread her
legs for her doctor just because he told her to.”

“Yes. Y-yes.” You agree, grinding your cunt into his palm as he continues to pump his fingers
in and out, an obscene noise accompanying the methodical movements. “The doctor knows
best.”

He chuckles at that, a high and dry noise which is accompanied by his thumb joining the fray
as it brushes soft circles around your aroused clit. Your entire body alighting with pleasure,
his fingers stroking along your sensitive inner walls paired with the soft manipulations of
your clit have your moans growing in rapid intensity as the heat of orgasm builds in your
core; your hands gripping the arm rests so tightly that the leather creaks beneath them.

“Do not hold back on your orgasm.” Crane instructs and his accented words have lowered
once again as he focuses on the erotic task at hand. “It will help to alleviate you of your
pains.”

It’s all the instruction you need and the hot tension which burns within your lower stomach
snaps in an instant as he flicks his thumb across your clit. Vision darkening as your eyes slam
shut, every nerve in your body bursts to life as one as you clamp your cunt around his fingers
and come. His fingers don’t stop moving and the sloppy sound of his shifting digits grows
even more pronounced as your mess coats his hand, your nails digging into the leather of the
chair as they fight to gain purchase against the intense pleasure which is curling your toes and
tightening your throat.

All too soon, his fingers pull free of your twitching cunt and you watch through watery eyes
as he wipes off his release-stained digits on the off-white handkerchief which sits in the
breast pocket of his brown suit as he stands fully. Panting, you allow him to grip your chin
between his thumb and forefinger – his fingers shockingly warm – as he tilts your head up at
him and you don’t miss the almost amused expression which now plays at the edges of his
features.

“You take your medicine well. Perhaps we should see about setting up a recurring
appointment to ensure that each of your symptoms are taken care of.” Crane muses, twisting
your head slightly to admire the high flush which faintly stains your skin. “Today was merely
a taster session of the recommended remedy but I feel that you would benefit from a more
intense administration.”

Still reclined in his chair – the mess between your legs hot, sticky and uncomfortable in the
most delicious way – you cannot deny the spark of interest which alights in your features at
the potential of future treatments in the dextrous hands of the good doctor.
 Captain Boomerang - Restraints

The sigh of exasperation which flees your lips at the sight of him is one that you assume he
must be used to by now. Planting your hands atop your hips, you meet his eyes and a silly
thought flits through your mind that, at least this time, you’d been lucky enough to find him
conscious and clothed.

“Really?”

Digger’s fingers flex in the closest thing he can manage to a shrug as his body writhes against
the myriad of twisting, textured vines which pin him to the wall. A thick patch of ivy sits
behind his frame, the flora providing a strong anchor for the vines to hold its unwilling prey
steady as the base of it seems somehow embedded in the plaster of the wall. The scent of
earth is heavy in the air, something primal and heady, and the strength of it makes you clear
your throat delicately as you tap your feet against the flooring.

“I know I said I would behave.” Digger begins with the inflection of a petulant child. “But
things happened, and I got into a little tussle with the plant bitch,” he smirks at the dismissive
nickname as a flash of gold peeks free of his dingy teeth, “so she left me here like this. Told
me to fucking rot.”

“And what did you do to deserve that?”

If anything, his grin grows wider and there’s something guilty hiding in the way his lips tilt to
the side even as he keeps stubbornly silent.

“Well, that wasn’t smar-”

“Hey! I’m the victim here.”

“Maybe she’s right. Maybe you should be stuck there. God knows it might actually stop you
from making a mess.”

“Aww, don’t be like that, darlin’. Come and untie me.” He winks and, as if to make his point,
his wide body struggles against the vines for a solid moment to showcase just how trapped he
was. “I’ll make it worth your while, sweetheart.”

Sleazy charm in full force, the pet names are desperate but effective as heat touches at your
cheeks. A fact he is quick to notice as his expression lights up and his efforts to escape stop
in an instant.

“Fine.” You agree, attempting to sound nonchalant about the whole thing and failing
miserably.

The vines are rough against your hands, feeling oddly alive as you delicately and
methodically unravel the most prominent ones which cross his chest and arms. So focused on
the task, you push away the embarrassment which sits warmly in the pit of your stomach as
your fingers brush across his thick body; first trailing across his tensed bicep before wrapping
around his thigh to coax off a particularly tight vine from just below his crotch.

Heat radiates from him like a furnace. His naturally warm frame is soothing, and you enjoy
the sensations of his skin peeking through the vines as you return to his wrists, unknotting
and loosening with dexterous fingers as you work as quickly as you can.

“Get the lower ones first,” Digger cuts in, the words startling you from your focus, “they’re
trying to strangle me goolies and it’s not something I want to live through.” His voice has
deepened, the accent coming through more pronounced as he slurs over the syllable with a
sudden roughness. It’s hot and you bite your lips as you follow his request.

Dipping your hands back to the vines on his thighs, a gasp snaps free of your throat as your
wrist brushes the crotch of his jeans to alert you to the stiff bulge which juts out from the
denim.

“Digger…”

“You’re the one touching me, love. Can’t blame a red-blooded man for getting’ a little hot
under the collar and cracking a fat when-”

He breaks off into a throaty laugh as you bury your head against his chest, blocking out the
worst of his vulgarity and hiding your embarrassment by focusing on the racing pulse of his
heart.

His shirt is ripped, the pale blue fabric torn enough across his chest that the exposed reddish
chest hair below tickles your cheek as you press against him.

“Babe, heads up! Look!”

Following his instructions, you tilt your head up and immediately feel his chapped lips
pressing against your own as he uses the little bit of purchase you’ve given him to catch you
by surprise.

His mutton chops are rough against your skin, scratching your cheeks as he devours your lips
in a filthy kiss. He tastes of cheap beer and even cheaper cigarettes, the palette of a man long
haven given up any pretence of giving a single fuck about his health, and it’s nasty in a way
which makes your head spin. In an instant, your fingers are pressing into his reddened hair,
the strands there sitting flat against his scalp due to his recently abandoned beanie as you
hold him in place.

“Chances of a gobbie?” He growls as he pulls away. “Can’t get a guy all hard like this and
not do anythin’ about it. What’ya say, baby?”

Fresh heat creeps along your cheeks as you shake your head. No way he was getting a
blowjob. Not like this. Those were a reward for a good well done and he had really messed
this little meeting he attended up. But the idea does have a little bit of appeal, particularly
when he’s so restrained and unable to do anything and the mental image of you on your knees
before him sparks a wicked heat in your chest.
Chuckling at your headshake, he offers you a childish pout.

“And here’s me thinking you liked me, darlin’. Not even chucking me a pity handy.”

Mischief rises in your thoughts, pushing past the embarrassment as a cheeky determination
settles in your mind and your hand drops deftly to his crotch.

Unzipping his fly, you don’t miss the way his chest heaves in surprise as you pull his
straining cock free. He’s already painfully hard and the obvious droplets of pre-cum which
are smeared across his cockhead are hint enough to how turned on he is.

“Is this what the big baby wants?” You coo, rolling your fingers across his fat length as it juts
free of his groin. The base of his cock boasts a health patch of russet pubic hair, and it tickles
your fingers as your stroke away at him with a slow pace.

Panting already, his expression is slack and content to allow you to do what you want with
him as he remains unable to move more than a few inches. A lurid, deep moan slips free of
his lips as you rub your thumb across his cockhead, spreading the mess there further as
arousal tugs at your own stomach, heat spreading across your skin.

“Just like that, babe.” Digger groans, his hips jerking slightly as he chases your hand. “So
fucking good to me, so fucking good.”

Mouth going dry at the praise, you settle into a steady rhythm as you use his reactions to
guide your actions. He makes a little whimper as you run your finger along the line where the
shaft meets the head and the sound goes straight to your groin, inspiring you to do it two
more times until the pre-cum is steadily leaking from his slit.

“Are you close, baby?”

“Yeah- oh yeah.” He mewls out, the noise utterly pathetic. “Gonna shoot off all over your
hands, love.”

Before you could respond to that, he follows through with his claim and you feel his cock
twitching in your palm as he comes. His release is stuttered; the mess coating your fingers as
a few erratic droplets spray across his own stomach, staining both the shirt and vines which
cover the wide area.

Continuing to stroke him through his orgasm, you keep your hand moving along his shaft
until his groans have shifted from pleasure to discomfort as overstimulation touches at his
heaving body. You release him quickly, your fingers shifting over to the final vine which
holds his right hand in place as you pull it free with renewed strength - confidence
thrumming through your veins.

Now freed, even if it were only one hand, his determination is immediate as his hand strikes
forward to wrap around the back of your neck and a surprised squeak flees your lips as he
pulls you flush against his frame. The heat radiating off him is even more pronounced and the
blush in his cheeks is reflecting in the warmth of your own as he grinds his cock against your
clothed thigh.
“Fancy a quick root, babe?” He asks, his one freed hand dropping to roll across your clothed
chest as he squeezes the skin there roughly. “Give me five mins to recover and the little
guy’ll be raring to go for another round.”

“Root.” You mutter, mildly pissed off at how good the pun is there.

Moving your feet quickly, you kick away the vines which are littered around the floor
beneath you to make way for a decent space for a quick fuck once you’ve finished releasing
him.
 Scarecrow - Non-Con (#1)
Chapter Notes

This piece features non con so please be aware of that and don't read if that's something
you find difficult or triggering.

As always, comments and kudos are loved and appreciated xx

Awaking with a start, the sudden brightness of the overhead bulb which dragged you from a
restless sleep burns your eyes and you snap them closed once more as you find yourself
momentarily blinded.

The filthy mattress providing very little comfort from the even filthier floor below, your body
instantly screams its discomfort as you unfurl from your curled position. No matter how you
recalled falling asleep, you awoke in the same state; with your body cramped and aching as it
wound itself into the tightest ball imaginable. To protect yourself as much as you could.

Still disoriented by sleep and exhaustion, bleary eyes dart around the bare room as reality sets
in- the horrid truth of your captivity a fresh trauma every time you awaken in the prison-like
space.

A screech of metal and your body flinches away from the mattress, scrambling towards the
furthest away wall as a familiar, tall figure creeps through the sliver of opened door. Your
heart leaps into your mouth as the temperature of the room drops even further, a stiff breeze
quickly sneaking in as the door is left ajar, its guardian showing no fear of a potential escape.

"Evening, pet." A deep voice greets and the cadence of it sends a deep shudder rolling
through your spine as your back pushes even harder against the wall, your eyes now rooted to
the floor to avoid any misstep.

Your trembling fingers clutch at the ragged blanket which he had so graciously provided after
you begged for something, anything, to stave off the bone-chilling cold which settled in
during the long nights. The fabric was frayed at the edges and rotted with holes which looked
to be the result of moths, a stale scent clinging to the fibres. It was disgusting but you had
carefully hidden the retch which threatened your throat as he presented it and, further still,
hidden the disgust as you delivered his 'reward' for such a kind treat.

"No hello?" His voice drops any pretence, and your frightened eyes instantly snap to his own,
the rounded wire-rimmed glasses doing nothing to hide the frigid emerald gaze below. "How
unfortunate. I thought we had finished up our work on basic manners."

"Hello, D-Dr. Crane." You stutter out, panic tearing through your thoughts at your own
stupidity for forgetting his rules. His lessons were cruel and never ended before both your
body and mind were shattered, broken into a pitiful submission until he next decided you had
slipped up. "I-I'm sorry, I've just woken up."

"Lazy." He sneers, genuine contempt playing in his features as he looms over you. "I've been
awake for fourteen hours and the night is still young. Such laziness deserves correcting as I
will not stand for a substandard little pet. Not when I have so kindly visited to check in on
them."

His Scarecrow costume is tight around his body and your eyes drop to the telltale bulge in his
brown slacks and the sight of it sparks fresh despair in your chest as you realise exactly what
he is here for.

"No. No, please. Not again." You whine through jittering teeth, your knees drawing up flush
against your chest as your fingers curl harder into the ratty blanket. "Please. No."

He moves quicker than you anticipated, and a shrill cry breaks free of your lips as his fingers
latch around your shivering frame and push you down to the mattress. Whatever resistance
you make is weak and pathetic, a lack of food and movement making your body feel lethargic
and frail, even against his mild strength.

Stars flash across your darkening vision as his thin hands slams your head off the mattress, a
sharp pain in your lower lip altering you to the fresh split in the skin there as blood pools
within your mouth.

Apologies spill from your lips, disturbing the fresh cut further, and the words fall free
thoughtlessly as your body tenses before going slack against any further brutality.

Just let him do what he wants.

He will anyway.

The blanket now fallen away, you lay there naked and stunned as the chill from the opened
door washes over your bruised skin; the mottled colours of older injuries standing out starkly.
His hand releases your head, and you cry silently as you remain as still as possible until a
sharp kick to the outer thigh makes you yelp in surprise.

"Ready yourself."

Whimpering with shame as you draw your knees up and bend your head down, you present
your naked ass, allowing him to move out of sight behind you as you hear the familiar sound
of shuffling fabric and the rustle of a zip.

A sharp nail scores a harsh line across your ass and you can feel the well of blood
immediately as he breaks the skin there. It's a sharp pain but against the other aches of your
abused frame, it means very little aside from sparking a fresh whimper from your lips.

Openly sobbing as his finger presses against your asshole, you spread your knees further to
allow him easier access - knowing that the punishment will be a lot harsher if you don't.
"Good pet." His finger pulls away and you flinch as a warm glob of spit lands just above your
hole, the insufficient lube rolling across your ass as his finger returns to spread it carelessly.
"Now, keep being good or I'll belt this ass raw and bloodied before enjoying my reward."

His cockhead bumps messily against your hole and despite the shuddering of your upper
chest and face as they press against the cold stone flooring, you try to relax. Anything to
make it easier and lessen even a little of the pain; even the lube was only for his own
convenience, to ensure that he didn’t damage his own cock as he used you freely.

He enters your ass with a thrust which takes your breath away as you burn and stretch around
him, forced to take half his length without mercy.

"Always so tight around me," he purrs, "pulling me in further like a whore." At the final word
he jerks his hips forward once again and a broken sob flutters across the floor as his hips lay
flush against your ass, the sharp sting of his entry a wretched discomfort as you feel hollowed
out.

"Please, take it out." You beg, unable to stop. "It hurts. Y-you're killing me."

A callous laugh cuts across your words as his thin hand pulls your head free of the mattress
and your scalp burns at the vicious tug as he tilts your head as far back at it would allow.

"Killing you? Don't be dramatic, pet. Why would I kill my favourite little project? You
survived my toxin; you can survive a little fuck. If not, then maybe we should mix the two?
My toxin is begging for another round inside that soft little frame."

Genuine fear stiffens your frame, your body thrashing and tightening your ass around him
while he grunts at the sudden pressure, as you recall his toxin. You had lasted over an hour
before passing out. A full hour of creeping shadows and horrific beasts tearing at your skin as
you screamed and wailed and pissed yourself in terror. Awaking after that had been just as
wretched as the ache of your abused body told you of just how much he had enjoyed your
terror as you were lost in hallucination.

Even through the mania, you had heard his laugh. That high, cold laughter which mocked
your suffering as he basked in the fruits of his labour. You remember him scolding you for
the mess as he promised a cruel bath, little more than chilled water hosing you down as you
retched and squealed under the hard pressure.

Snapping back to the present as his hand collides against your ass, sparking a dull ache in the
abused skin, he continues his very real threat.

"What do you think would sink deeper; the needle or my cock?"

Mewling out something incomprehensible as you cough out some of the blood which has
accumulated in your mouth, you clench your ass around him - ignoring the way it sparks a
dull, throbbing pain in your guts - as you miserably await him finishing.

His pace is frantic and cruel, every thrust designed to inflict as much discomfort as possible
as you writhe and bawl beneath him. Every breath is erratic, his panting broken up by feral
growls and grunts as he nears his peak.

With a merciful swiftness, his sharp nails dig into the vulnerable skin of your hips as he
drives himself as deep as possible as he comes. Heat pools within your mauled ass as he
refuses to pull free, coating you with his release as he issues a strangled snarl, every inch the
beast he truly was.

You press your head against the mattress roughly, pushing your tears into the stained fabric as
he finally frees himself; his cock pulling from your ass with an obscene noise as you feel his
cum trickle free of your abused hole.

Nothing else is said, his silence as oppressive as the cold air which now assaults your sweat-
slicked skin, and you lie there pathetically sobbing into the mattress as you await his next
torment.

It's not until a full minute later, several moments after the screech of the metal door alerts you
to his exit that you even dare to move.

Slipping your fingers back to your ass, you brush against the tender flesh there as you wipe
away his release - the very feel of it making your throat tight with an unrealised retch.

Wiping your stained fingers on the furthest edge of the thin mattress, you try to ignore the
slight pinkish tinge to the liquid as you once again curl into a defensive position; a twisted
relief that he had not followed through with his threat of toxin making you deliriously
thankful even as fat tears roll across your filth-covered cheeks.
 Scarecrow - Non-Con (#2)
Chapter Notes

A follow up to the precious chapter, this request features more non-con and various
torments. Read at your own discretion.

As always, kudos and comments are loved and appreciated xx

Chained to the wall, your neck held viciously in place by the thick metal collar which was
bolted into the unyielding stone, the constant pressure on your windpipe made breathing
difficult as you thrashed in place.

“Hold still, little whore.” Crane grunted, his glasses perching precariously on the end of his
nose as he remained bent on one knee before you. “If my hand should slip free then I will
replace it with something you will enjoy even less.”

Enjoy.

As if you were enjoying a moment of this, a fact which were compounded as his hand flexed
within your walls, cruelly stretching you out from the inside out as you wailed out your
distress. It had been no easy feat, but when Crane had decided – almost casually – that he
would like to test out how long it would take him to fit his thin fist within your terrified
frame, he had decided that there was no time to be lost.

Pleading had been useless. Broken pleas and offers to suck his cock, to fuck him with any
hole he wished, had fallen on deaf ears as he easily gripped your hair to force your head
against the wall to secure the metal collar and prevent any escape. Your hands hung
overhead, also pinned to the wall by a short length of rough rope which bit into the bruised
skin of your wrists.

Feet only just able to lay flat on the floor, Crane had set about his task with sadistic precision.

With dry fingers, he had forcibly inserted himself to test the stretch which had already
achieved with his daily lessons, and he was quick to add digits until he deemed the noises
which were escaping your panicked mouth entertaining enough. Then, using a small bottle
from his inner pocket, he had applied the smallest amount of lube to his fingers, enough to
ensure that his own skin would remain unhurt by the friction while doing nothing to provide
any real comfort.

“This may hurt.” Crane had warned, the visible tent of his slacks speaking his enjoyment of
the utter cruelty of his plans. “Feel free to scream, sweetheart.”
The dry, rough stone wall against your back had given you something to focus on as he truly
started his work but even that had its limits.

You had screamed.

And he had laughed.

The knuckles were the worst part. His fingers clawing against your walls as he forced himself
deep within your hole were uncomfortable but familiar in a terrible way as each digit
scratching along your walls in such a way that pleasure was impossible. The knuckles, the
bones there unable to shift, formed the thickest part of his hand and the burn of your skin –
your hole feeling as though it were tearing through the heat – had drawn a wail from you
which was so guttural and miserable in its sincerity that Crane paused long enough to free his
rock-hard cock with his other hand.

Still stroking along his length, the girth of his knuckles – now buried deep within you –
sparked a deep discomfort which made the bile rise in the back of your throat.

“Just over seven minutes.” Crane mused, his gleeful expression only a few inches from your
own. “That’s how long it took for you to open up for me like a common, fucked-out whore.
Seven minutes to ruin you.” He shook his head as a twisted smirk settled on his lips. “That
must be a record, sweetheart.”

x-x-x-x-x

Time moved slowly in your new life. With no calendar and scant lighting from a strip of
window too high to be of any use, how much time had passed was a mystery which gnawed
at your mind. Your hair had grown about an inch and that was the indicator which you chose
to follow – measuring the strands against your palm to keep track.

The remnants of your dinner, overcooked rice topped with bland raw greens, lay off on a
plastic plate to the side of your mattress. Having proven yourself willing to be sensible with
your meals, Crane had settled into a routine of bringing meals designed to keep you from
succumbing to any nutritional deficiency. Just enough to keep you going without ever truly
allowing a comfortable fullness to settle. And it was the first thing to go at any perceived
disobedience. Meals would be reduced to scraps which were barely fit for a dog and yet you
were made to grovel for them as though they were a banquet.

Standing by the plate, Crane’s eyes grazed across the few grains of rice which your trembling
fingers were not quite able to pick up and his features narrowed in obvious displeasure.

“Ungrateful creature. Is there a reason my meal has went unfinished?”

Cowering away in an instant, your eyes drop to the floor as your words stammer free.

“Apologies, Sir. I was unable to pick th-”

SLAP
The blow catches you unawares as you had not heard him move and your head snaps to the
side as a pained yelp slips free of your mouth. A ringing settles in your left ear and you grunt
as your head is pulled upwards by his free hand until you are forced to look Crane directly in
the face.

“I do not appreciate excuses. If my meal was unsatisfactory then I will find you something to
replace it.”

His hands drop your hair and quickly fumble with his belt. A sick hope alights in your chest.
Sucking his cock would save you from so many other pains. In your time servicing him, you
had grown to understand what he liked and, as much as he could draw it out with added
cruelties, your throat was well-trained to get him to come as quickly as possible.

But your hope died out quickly as a sadistic chuckle rumbled overhead.

“I see that hopeful look in your eye,” Crane cooed, “and I know that you’re desperate to
please me as a perfect little toy should. However, that’s not what I have in mind for you.”
Stroking his cock, his free hand dipped once more to grip at your chin roughly. “I’m going to
turn around and you will use that mouth to prove to me that you deserve another meal by my
hands. Understand?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer, revulsion at the implication rising in your throat.

“Hesitate, or refuse, and I’ll lock that door behind me and leave you here to rot away.”

Fear, genuine fear, pierces your heart as you don’t doubt his threat for a moment, and you nod
as your knees lock in place against the cold stone of the floor.

He is quick to turn, balancing his forearm against the wall as he allowed his slacks to drop
around his ankles, exposing his thin ass and even thinner legs to your blank expression.
Shuffling forward on your knees, you bring your tied wrists together – the small length of
rope only allowing a few inches of movement – and place them gently on his ass, afraid to
cause him even the slightest discomfort as you know it’ll earn you a severe beating.

Pulling at his ass cheeks, the hair there sparse, a sigh of relief threatens to slip free of your
lips as you take in his asshole and the cleanliness of the site. He was cruel, sadistic, and evil
in ways you sometimes struggled to comprehend but he was at least clean.

You whimper as the harsh tread of Crane’s boots presses harshly against your upper leg as it
remains forced into a kneeling position.

“Is that a hesitation?” He asks sternly, the threat clear. “Because it’s been a while since you
required any true discipline, pet.”

“No, Sir. Sorry, Sir!”

Dipping your head forward, you swallow down the disgust which once again wells in your
throat as your tongue paints a stripe across his asshole. Grimacing at the act, you push down
those feelings as you settle into a steady, faux-enthusiastic rhythm which doesn’t hesitate –
even as shameful tears threaten your eyes.

“That’s right you little whore.” Crane groans, pushing back slightly. “Service your master.”

Your tongue is insistent as it brushes along his hole while your hand remain gentle on his ass,
your ragged nails nowhere near Crane’s skin as you devour him. He’s surprisingly active –
his body shifting in place as you pleasure him as his ass pushes harder into your face, forcing
you to work quicker at your task while he hums out his enjoyment.

After a few minutes, the length of which were closer to an eternity, he straightens up and
whirls around and you are confronted by his rock-hard cock. His spindly hand jerking along
the length with a messy pace, the flush which sits on his cruel features is paired with a
animalistic panting as he points his cock at you.

“Enjoy your rewards, sweetheart.” Crane grunts out and the hot splashes of his release arc
across your face, streaking across your cheek and lip as your watery eyes blink rapidly.
“Perhaps we should arrange for more similar meals as part of your re-education.”

Re-education.

A word which struck more fear into your heart than any punishment could.

x-x-x-x-x

“Tell me what you see.”

Even through the horror which gripped your heart, squeezing the sensitive muscle to dust as
you watch the shadows of the cell twist and writhe towards you, Crane’s voice is clear and
unyielding as it demands an answer.

“Monsters.” You sob out, arcing your back as Crane tugs at your distended nipples. “In th-the
shadows!”

The fire in your chest is brutal, scorching the skin to the bone as the pain is compounded by
the toxin which flows freely through your veins. Thick needles, the sharp point having been
slowly piercing through the nubs of your nipples as you screamed – his legs pinning your
arms to the floor to allow him unfettered access to your chest – remained in place to provide
Crane something to latch onto and pull to redirect your attention.

Then had come the toxin.

In a twisted game, he had allowed you to choose where to inject it and, like the good little toy
you were, you had first told him that it was his choice and your opinion didn’t matter. He had
laughed at that, his fingers stroking along your cheek in mock affection before he had insisted
that the choice was yours.

And you had chosen your neck.

But only because he was more careful when working with that area, just in case he should
nick something important. Any other choice would have seen the needle jammed into your
flesh with no regard for comfort or safety.

The toxin still raged through your system, even now, hours after the initial injection. The
hallucinations had lessened slightly – reduced to shifting shadows and a sense of dread which
made your heart flutter within your chest as tears flowed freely from your stinging eyes.

A vague sensation of something being thrust within your mouth makes you moan and a sharp
pain at the corners of your mouth alerts you to the dental gag which was now holding your
mouth open, almost splitting at the sides.

“As obedient as you are, pet, my toxin would make any attempts at enjoying that lovely
mouth difficult. I’m sure you don’t mind.”

Unable to speak, your words gurgle free in an indecipherable mess but Crane’s expression
narrows as he watches your head thrash in place.

Dropping to one knee, his face hovers over your own and his features are barely perceptible
through the veil of tears and blurriness which his toxin has afforded you. Nevertheless, you
flinch in place as something warm and wet splatters across your cheek.

Spit.

“Now be a good whore and please your master.” Crane demands, rising once again to his feet
as his fingers once again spread to tug at the needles which are impaled through your nipples
– the rush of pain forcing you to kneel as high as possible to alleviate the raw pain which
lances through your chest.

He’s as rough as ever, his cock thrusting within your mouth with no preamble or time to
prepare. The gag making it impossible to do anything other than accept him, you slam your
eyes shut to hide from the creatures which still moved within the shadows and laughed at
your distress.

A sharp pull of your hair draws a strangled cry from your lips as Crane jerks his cock free
and his voice booms from overhead.

“Open your eyes or I will pin them open with some of those left-over medical needles.”

Fresh terror flooding through your trembling limbs, you open your eyes immediately and
fixate them on his stern gaze. Through the sadistic glee which shines free of his expression,
there is a definite satisfaction there which sparks despair deep within your soul. As his little
project, his desire to break and mould you into something for his amusement has been
relentless. The abuses, the stuttered sleep, the withheld meals. Each cruelty breaking off
another small piece of your will until what remained was tattered and useless, just waiting to
be stripped off as was all the rest.

His cock returned to your lips and you moved your tongue to accommodate him, lapping at
his length with a put-upon reverence which you knew he enjoyed. The ache in your jaw and
throat meant little compared to the pains in the rest of your battered body but you ignored it
in favour of pleasing him as he abused your mouth.

Please him. The little traitorous voice inside your head which had saved you from more
punishments than you cared to think about, coming at the cost of your dignity. Let him do
what he wants and you’ll be safe.

Toxin-filled and suffering beyond what any reasonable person could accept, what little
defiance burned deep within your heart stuttered out and was replaced with something cold.

Clenching your fists against your lower back, you pretend to ignore the grunt of pleasure
which escapes Crane as he once again tugs at your nipples and relishes in the scream which
vibrates around his cock.
 Scarecrow/Harley - CNC

“Did you think, all those years ago, when you sat coyly in my office, batting those beautiful
lashes and begging me for an extension to your paper, that it would end up like this?” Crane
asked, gripping Harley’s chin in a spindly hand. “I refused you then, professional judgement,
but I always knew I would have you like this. Spread around me like a common whore.”

Baby blues painfully wide and fluttering anxiously as muffled words struggled to break
through the thick cotton gag which looped around her mouth, Harley was every inch the
perfect little doll in his grasp; a beautiful victim with her bottle-blonde hair fanned out
around her head like an angelic halo as she shook her head against the darkened sheets she
found herself pinned against.

Crane’s cock was hard, almost uncomfortably so, and he rubbed it along her slickened folds,
enjoying the shudder which crossed her muscular frame as her body betrayed her, the wetness
there giving him all the consent he needed. Her skin was soft, like velvet coated steel due to
her years of physicality and gymnastics, and it gave her a strength which he himself lacked.
But here she was, presented before him like a delightful gift – one which begged to be
unwrapped as her mouth and hands remained restrained to prevent any hope of escape.

A soft grunt fled his throat as his long fingers gripped her creamy hips, the indents of his
fingertips brutal enough to guarantee at least a light bruise, and the hold allowed him solid
purchase as he snapped his hips forward and buried himself within her in a single, violent
thrust. Her warmth was immediate, and his grunt dissolved into a low, languid groan – one
which only increased in volume as he slowly slid free, her walls delightfully flush around
him. The loss of contact barely had time to resister as he slammed himself forward once
more, his groin flush against her thick thighs.

It was addictive.

So hot and warm around him as her eyes blinked away discomforted tears. Muffled cries
making her breasts bounce in such a way that Crane found it difficult to decided where to pin
his hot gaze. She enthralled him; every inch of her perfect frame a siren-like call as he found
himself unable to resist having her in the way he knew that so few others had.

Stretched around his cock, her walls fluttered around him greedily, pulling him in closer with
every jerk of his cock and the fingers of his left hand dropped free of her hips to trail up her
heaving stomach. Tracing a soft line up her abdomen, his fingers paused to tweak almost
playfully at her hardened nipple before tapping along the swell of her collarbone.

“A beautiful little doll.” Crane growled, wrapping his fingers around her neck as she
swallowed in panic and thrashed below him. “Just perfect to be used.”

His lazy thrusting and musings were cut short by a very deliberate sensation against his lower
back as the heel of her right foot came to tap roughly at the base of his spine.

Tap.
Tap.

Tap.

Three distinct movements and the feel of them made his hands drop from her neck
immediately as though the skin there had burned his palms. With a deft swiftness, he
loosened the fabric gag and pulled it free of her mouth as his hips stilled; his cock still buried
within her cunt, but unmoving as his analytical gaze swept across her face to search for an
answer he knew would soon be revealed.

“Harleen?” Crane prompted; his voice softened from its previous aggression as he allowed
her to settle her frantic breathing. “Do you need water? Loosened?”

“No.” Harley stuttered out. “I’m – I’m okay. Just feeling a bit, y’know.” Her words were
shaky and Crane could see the shadows in her eyes, the panic there which she was so
valiantly trying to hide behind a soft, placating smile.

“Do you want to stop?” His other hand still planted on her creamy hip, Crane stroked the skin
there gently with the sides of his fingers. It was a simple gesture which replaced his unspoken
concerns as he gazed down at her.

“Not yet.” She confirmed before pausing. “But maybe – maybe don’t put your hand on my
neck again, okay?”

Her eyes, so big and blue, blinked at him and a warmth which had nothing to do with the
arousal which still burned within his veins swept through his chest.

“Of course.” Crane agreed as his hips moved slowly once again, allowing Harley to set the
pace a little more as he pretended to forget to reapply the thick fabric of her gag.
 Poison Ivy - Cure (5 sentence fic)

"Ivy, pl-please," you shudder out, voice breaking on the final syllable as your back arches in a
graceless arc, "I need the cure."

Smiling down at you as her finger traces another feather-light touch across your clit - even
the small bit of contact sending a bolt of pure, concentrated pleasure through your suffering
frame - her free hand cups at your chin playfully before carding through the sweat-slicked
strands of hair which have filled across your forehead.

"But you're being such a good girl for me right now," she explains once again as she pulls
you so cloesly to the edge of an earth-shattering orgasm that your feet curl against the sheets
to the point of discomfort, "and as soon as I let you come all of those little enhancers of mine
that I've kissed into your blood will disappear."

"Baby, please," the electric heat which lances across your skin is unbearable as every nerve
feels primed to explode at the slightest touch, "and i get it, but I'll do- I'll do anything, just-"

"Then hold out for me a little longer, and I'll make sure that you have everything you want
and more when i replace that teasing finger with my tongue."
 Nolan Scarecrow - Piss Kink
Chapter Notes

One of my more consistent requests lol.

“Turn your head and I will thrash your skin so terribly that the marks will take weeks to heal,
whore.” Crane threatens as his fist pumps along his cock, the tip of his length only a few
inches from your face and you watch his thin fingers move across the skin like a spider,
skittering along with purpose as his sadistic smirk beams down on you.

Your eyes are lidded as you gaze up at him and your wrists ache uncomfortably as they
remain tied to your ankles – refusing to allow any movement which wasn’t you falling to
your side like a roped pig, ready to be righted and forced back into place.

Not doubting his threat for a second, you mumble out a quick agreement which seems to
irritate him as the fingers from his free hand collide against your cheek with a resounding
slap that knocks your head to the side. It steals the breath from your lips as a pained hiss
flutters free of your lips. Heat is quick to flare in your face as the pain settles quickly and
your watery eyes dip up once again to meet his cold gaze.

“Yer, sir, I understand. This whore is sorry for not speaking clearly.” The words are well
trained - an expected response - and his head tilts ever so slightly as he tests the sincerity of
them. The sack which makes up the upper part of his costume to c his face does very little to
hide the intensity of his gaze and you almost sob out a sigh of relief as he nods his acceptance
of the apology.

The hand which had struck you slithers down your cheek, thumb trailing along the slight tear
tracks which have settled on the skin, until his thumb and forefinger pinch your chin sharply.
His other hand remains stroking along his cock, the hard length gutting free of his slacks and
his short speech is stuttered by grunts as a visible string of pre-cum drips free of his slit.

“A slut who can’t speak clearly, shouldn’t speak at all.” Crane growls. “Maybe a small lesson
in humility is necessary?”

“Yes, sir. Whatever you think this slut needs.” Shuffling your knees against the floor, you add
the small spoken flourish in hopes of gaining his favour. It even appears to work, for a
moment at least, as his grip on your chin disappears and his hand instead tilts your face up
towards his upper body.

You gasp in surprise as his cock erupts, a stream of piss flowing free of his length as he aims
his cock at a slight downward angle; ensuring that the warm liquid paints a messy streak
across your chin and lower jaw before dripping down to splash across your naked chest.
Shock quickly gives way to a disgust before dissolving into a heated shame as your body is
coated in his release, the warmth quickly turning cool as it continues to drip across your
kneeling frame.

Actively fighting back the clench of your throat, a pained yelp slips free of your lips as his
free hand locks around the back of your head, pulling your restrained body closer as he
presents his still-hard cock before your pursed lips. He holds it there for a teasing moment,
allowing the few remaining droplets of piss to trickle across your bound body, the tickle of
them a constant reminder of their presence.

“I’m going to throat fuck you.” His tone is commanding, leaving no room for refusal. “I will
use you however I want, and you will be thankful that I relieved myself on your skin before
doing so.”

“You’re very good to me, sir. Thank - thank you! This slut appreciates it.”

“Then show me how well you can take my cock.”

It was barely a warning, and your body stiffens as his cock jams past your lips and into your
mouth. He tastes of pre-cum and piss, the murky duality making the heat in your skin grow
more intense as you flex your fingers against your ankles. He’s rough and utterly uncaring of
your comfort as his cock slams against the sensitive skin of your throat, forcing you to
swallow down your gag reflex and allow him to use you for his own twisted pleasure – a
dance which was more than familiar to you both.
 Captain Boomerang - Voyeurism & 69

It wasn’t the fact that you were two fingers deep in your cunt - curled digits stroking along
those sensitive parts within your walls that made your breath stutter as your toes curled
against the sheets. It wasn’t even the fact that your bed directly faced the door which Digger
was currently filling like he owned the place.

No.

The issue was the headshot of Digger which lay clenched in your free hand and the fact that
the shit-eating grin on his face told you that he had heard you moaning his name as you
stroked frantically along your aching clit.

“Thinking about old Digger, eh?” Digger announced, his laughter somewhere between a
growl and a giggle as he palmed his rapidly-stiffening cock with his left hand. “Maybe, if ya
ask nicely, I’ll see fit to replace those fingers with something almost twice as big and
throbbin’ for a quick root.”

Shame burning across your face, the heat in your cheeks as your fingers pull free of your hole
with an obscenely wet noise flares in an instant; your throat tightening across the moan which
threatened to break free as he pulled his fat cock from his jeans and gave it a quick tug,
readying it for a chance at your willing hole.

x-x-x-x-x

Following your embarrassing little impromptu show, Digger seemed determined to

experiment with various positions and it had been his stellar idea to indulge in some mutual
oral sex. His appetite was ravenous and even the very thorough fucking he had only just
finished delivering didn't seem enough to appease him.

But still, even you had to admit that the man had a talent for suggesting amazing ideas which
very quickly went awry.

Not that he was bad at it. Far from it. What he lacked in practised technique he more than
made up for in enthusiasm as he quickly read the signs of what movements made your thighs
tighten around his ears as your lips moaned and vibrated around his fat cock. His beard and
muttonchops even provided a wonderful sensation as the graze of the coarse hair on your
thighs and soaked cunt added a layer of burning discomfort that made you writhe all the more
desperately in place.

So, no.

He wasn’t bad at it.

But where Digger’s good idea went to die was in his decision to take the ‘below’ position in
your sixty-nine adventure. A surprisingly gentlemanly choice given that he seemed to enjoy
the sensation of you pinned beneath him, held in place by his thick frame while he railed you
with a messy ferocity.

Being on top had suited you to begin with, the freedom of movement allowing you to set the
pace as you hollowed out your cheeks and worked slowly around his pulsing shaft. His cock
wasn’t the longest but the sheer girth of the thing made it a difficult task as any attempt at
taking further into your mouth essentially plugged your throat entirely.

However, this did not prove to be the issue either.

What Digger had failed to consider, when proposing this little game, was the impressive
strength which you could muster with your inner thigh muscles and how tightly you were
able to hold him – his face buried deep within your cunt as you rode your orgasm out on his
thick features. In that wonderful moment, his natural need to breath was long disregarded and
it wasn’t until his blunted nails dug bloodied crescents into your outer thighs that you recalled
that little facet of the human condition and pulled yourself free of his face with a panting
gasp.

“Not the worst way to go.” Digger exclaimed cheerily as he sucked in huge, desperate inhales
of air. His lower face was a mess, glistening and visibly wet with your juices as his pink
tongue lapped at his own lips like a particularly thirsty dog. “But I don’t think me old mum
would appreciate a retellin' of the story at my eulogy.”
 Riddler - Mating Press (& Aftercare)

Your knees practically touching your ears, the stretch of your limbs would be almost
impossible to bear if it wasn’t for the distraction of the animated face which sat only a few
inches above your own, his emerald gaze pinning you into place with a greater ease than his
body ever could.

“You take my cum so well, sweetheart.” Edward growls, his surprisingly powerful thighs
flexing against your own as he ruts his cock deep within your hole. It was a new position for
you both, your back pressing roughly against the cheap rug which he had thrown to the floor
to save you from the cold stone.

It was a double-edged sword, as the cheap fabric only served to irritate the abused flesh of
your back, the skin there heated and raised from the flogger which he had spent minutes
striking you with as he forced you to swallow his cock as deeply as possible.

His shock of auburn hair has fallen across his sweat-slicked features and the only thing
preventing you from pushing it from the deep lines of his forehead, a result of his intense
focus, is the death grip you have on his back – your fingers digging into the wiry muscle
there with every punishing thrust.

The stretch of his cock is delicious as it reams you out without mercy, every inch being easily
pressed inside your fluttering hole as his groin slaps against your own.

“Yes.” You whimper out, not trusting your voice to be much louder. “Yes! Please, Edward,
I-” You cut yourself off as his cock brushes a spot which makes your breath catch in your
throat.

“Tell me what you want.” He demands, uncaring of your pleasant distress, his hips rolling as
his thumb slips up to brush against your clit. “I want to hear it.”

“Fill me up! Fuck me! Breed me like you own me, like I’m a whore.”

“Whose whore? Who owns you? Who’s the only one to fuck you like this?” Every question is
punctuated by a harsh thrust, punishing and fulfilling all in one as your toes curl and your
spine arches off the rug.

“Yours, Eddie! Only yours.” You scream out as his thumb drags a senseless pattern across
your clit, the added sensation almost too much to bear.

His grin is smug, quickly broadening by the arousal which stutters his cock as fresh heat
floods deep within your hole – his release meeting the demands you had made of him.

x-x-x-x-x

The waves of nausea which threatened your throat burned the sensitive skin which was
already bruised from Edward’s earlier use as he thrust his cock within your throat – his harsh
use blocking the delicate passageway as you writhed and bucked beneath him. Your hands
are quick to reach for the side the bed, allowing the feeling to pass as you hang your head
over the edge before falling back onto your side.

You are there less than a moment before warm arms scoop around your side to pull you
within them, snatching you close to his body as Edward presses your back flush to his
exposed chest. The movement is gentle, but it still ignites a shudder as the skin, still reddened
and raw by his earlier use of the flogger, is once again disturbed.

“Would you like some cream?” Edward’s voice is mellow in your ear, soothing and calm and
an easy anchor for you to latch on to as you suffer the comedown of your heightened
activities.

You pull away enough to alleviate the discomfort of your skin and curl your feet within his
own to keep that physical touch which you both craved. “Yeah.” You answer. “But only in a
minute. I want to – want to stay like this. For a while.”

His hum is one of understanding and, although you can’t see him, the warmth of his hand as
it settled gently on your hip is all the comfort you need.
 Scriddler - CBT (5 Sentence Fic)

"Tall I am young, short I am old. While with life I glow, wind is my foe."

Chanting the words while a crooked smile stretched his thin lips, Jonathan tilted the dark
candle perched between his willowy fingers with enough expert precision to allow a thin
stream of wax to drip free.

Cascading down, the steady droplets fell with pinpoint accuracy to the bulging head of
Edward's cock and the frantic thrashing of his chest- utterly trivialised by the thick ropes
which held him in place - was instantly met by the muffled scream which failed to escape
past the harsh fabric gagging his lips.

"Come now, Edward," Jonathan pressed on, his free hand curling around Edward's straining
length as he gently agitated and brushed free the patch of hardening wax to expose the
sensitive skin below, "I thought you enjoyed riddles and mine is hardly one I would think
difficult."

Edward's emerald eyes, darkened and glassy by the enveloping subspace which he had long
since dissolved away into, blinked away the forming tears as his groin continued to buck into
Jonathan's hand with an animalistic desperation.
 Nolan Scarecrow - Electro/Oral

Bare feet tapping a frantic dance across cold wooden flooring, the pounding of your heart is
erratic as desperate fingers scramble at the doorknob to pull open the office door once more.
A hard rattle of the lock rejects your attempts and a low chuckle causes your blood to freeze
in your veins.

"Nowhere to run, sweetheart. Do you think me so foolish as to leave such an obvious

escape?"

His costume hanging loosely from his thin frame, Jonathan Crane looked every inch the
monster he was as his maskless face sparkled with sadistic glee; the joy of a predator closing
in on its doomed prey.

With a quick turn of your heel, you duck under his sweeping arms and jab at the side of his
chest with your elbow. As he grunts in pain, you hightail it away from him – mind frantically
seeking out another possible exit among the many doors which link the various office rooms
which made up his current hideout.

Your determination was short-lived, however, as a thin foot smashed into your left ankle and
the world seemed to collapse in on itself as you hurtled to the ground. With a painful cry,
your body slams off the floor and you lay there for a moment, fully stunned. The fall has
caused your skirt to ride up and you wriggle in a fit of panic to push it back down.

Fear clutches at your chest as you hear the delicate pad of much larger feet shuffling towards
you.

"Oops." A drawn-out word which sounds utterly unapologetic as Crane's voice rings out from
above your prone frame.

In an instant, he has you flipped over with a soft grunt and his clawed hands are quick to rip
open the thin fabric of your shirt. A slightly padded white bra stands between him and his
goal as his right hand slips down to cup at your breast while his left hand snatches something
up from the floor.

Your fingers fighting against the pressure of his groping hand, a sharp pain crackling across
your shoulder draws a yelp from your lips as your attention quickly refocuses to the small
electric wand which lays clasped in the fingers of his left hand.

"Let's see if we can spark up some enthusiasm." Crane croons, dropping his long legs to his
knees by your side. "Fight me and I'll really make you scream."

To make his point, he presses the tip of the wand to the top of your left tit and depresses the
button - immediately sending a shock through the skin which once again steals the breath
from your throat with its needle-like intensity.
Using your distraction to his advantage, his hands grip at your hips as they spin you around to
allow him to take up the space between your legs.

"I can smell your fear," he continues, grunting as firm hands force your thighs apart, "and I'm
going to taste what is mine."

Whimpering and trapped without hope of escape, a particularly pathetic sound flees your lips
as he yanks your skirt up to fully expose your lower half – heat very quickly splashing across
your cheeks in shame and distress as he keeps you pliant with a threatening jab of the
electrical wand.

His expression is twisted with cruelty, heated arousal at play with the wicked joy at finally
having you pinned beneath him. It’s a look which makes your full body shiver, a sensation
which only repeats itself as he roughly pulls your panties free of your ass.

“You’re enjoying this, you little whore.” His eyes flashing, he raises his head to meet your
own as you remain laying flat-out on the floor, refusing to give him any reason to further
harm you. “Like a bitch in heat, even with a madman.”

The coolness of his finger against your heated cunt forces a gasp as your legs jerk against the
floor. He was right, you were wet, and his finger was quick to split your lips, tracing the
source of your arousal back to your clenching hole.

However, just as soon as his exploratory touching started, it stopped. A sigh of relief slipped
from you but it proved foolish as his finger was very quickly replaced by a puff of warm
breath.

Oh.

He was literally going to taste what was his.

A betraying shudder of anticipation rolled through your spine as you froze in place, waiting
for him to make the next move. An acceptance which he immediately took advantage of as
his warm tongue pressed against your slit, his hands pulling your thighs further apart to allow
him better access.

His assault on your cunt was instant and the sheer ferocity of his movements was enough to
put your mind into a frantic state. His lips and tongue moved in tandem, alternating between
blunt teeth threatening at your flesh to his mouth latching around your clit in a faint sucking
motion which drew a pathetic scream of over-sensitive distress from your lips as you writhe
against the wooden flooring.

Your hand drops to card through his hair, clutching at the auburn strands as you try to pull
him away from your cunt. A move which nets you a growling vibration of warning as the
hand which was not currently digging into your left thigh wraps around the small electrical
wand and taps it to your nipple; sending a fresh, deliciously painful bolt of sensation across
your reddened skin.
A second shock to prove his point and a keening cry splits your lips at the sharp pain but it
dissolves into a moan as his tongue strokes a very slow line across your clit, the raw pleasure
almost as terrible as the shock.

"Dr. Crane, please-"

Stop. You want to say.

"More." Falls from traitorous lips. “Please.”

He obliges with enthusiasm, his utter control of you in this moment making his efforts
calculated and designed to draw out as much reaction as possible. The burning shame that
you were allowing, in as much as you could, such a monstrous man to touch you in such a
way only added to the hot pleasure which his cold touches were providing you.

“Look at me, little rabbit.”

The words are a harsh demand and they pull you from your thoughts as you glance down at
him between your thighs. His mouth and chin were glistening and slightly reddened from
their efforts, his eyes as sharp as daggers as he forced your attention.

He holds your gaze for a moment, your abandoned cunt clenching around nothing as the
highs of your pleasure are blessed with momentary respite, but it doesn’t last long as Crane
offers you a cruel smirk.

With the electrical wand still digging threateningly into the soft flesh of your right tit, he
returns to your cunt, using you as little more than a conduit for his sadistic pleasures.
 Riddler - "Teasing"

Staring daggers into the back of her head, a frustrated indignation curled around Edward's
chest as his fingers tapped against the heavy wooden desk beneath his hand.

It was a typical annoyance and the irritation of it only served to make the throb of his cock
even more distracting as he once again adjusted his slacks at the groin.

She was tempting him and he knew it.

An oversized shirt, one which looked similar to his own, hung off her shoulders as she
pottered around his workstation, clearing up empty coffee mugs as she hummed a
nonsensical tune and allowed the open fabric to hug her curves.

Every time she bent over to collect some of the mess, the shirt would ride up to expose the
thickness of her thighs - livid red marks and developing bruises in the shape of fingerprints
marking up the skin in such a way that even the slight peek of them made his lips curl into a
satisfied smirk.

He had more than had his fill of her the previous night and the taste of her lingered on his lips
like the finest wine, something sweet and rare that was to be savoured.

A temptress and a minx, her vicious wiles would not drag him from the task at hand and his
fingers curled against his knees as he willed away the thoughts of just how tactful a little
afternoon delight could be. Her bra, hitched up roughly to expose her ample chest while her
legs lay spread wide across his desk as he dragged blunt teeth across her neck. His cock,
disappearing between the pillowy folds of her-

No.

He would resist and she would not win this little game.

x-x-x-x-x

On the other side of the room, your face mildly twisting in distaste at a small plastic bowl
which held the stiffened remnant of snacks that should have been binned days ago, Edward
was the furthest thing from your mind. Humming away some song you vaguely remember
hearing on the radio earlier, you roll your eyes at nothing as you focus on cleaning up the
various messes that the self-proclaimed genius seemed incapable of dealing with himself.
 Zero Year Riddler - Teasing/Office Sex

Kicking the door to his office shut with the flat of your boot, your eyes refuse to leave the
green glad figure who sits behind his usual work desk – his feet balancing on the edge of the
desk as he reclines in comfort. His reaction is immediate as open surprise sits on his features
for a moment before realisation sets in and that surprise dissolves into something much more
heated and dangerous.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” Crooning the question, Edward immediately
stands from the desk and his long legs make quick work of the space between you. “I’m not
sure you’re in the right place, handsome.”

“No.” You counter, playing with the end of his tie. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“I don’t remember sending for a whore.” His tone curls around the final word with a knowing
lilt, confident that he understands the game you’re playing and is happy to make the first
move. “Not that I’m complaining. It’s been a hard day of work, and I could do with some
play.”

Glancing down as you feel him take your hand within his own, he is quick to press your palm
against the half-hard bulge of his cock and it remains hidden beneath his slacks. Hot arousal
floods your groin as you press your thighs together, enjoying the rough feel of the fishnets on
your skin.

A small yelp bursts free of your lips as he spins you in place suddenly, his body flush against
your back as you feel his cock press into your lower back. His head is quick to dip against
your neck as rough fingers run along the outline of the red shift dress which skims your hips
before looping through the metal hoop which hangs off the thick leather collar which hugs
your neck.

“You really do look like a whore, you know.” Edward muttered, the words hot against your
inner ear as he tugs the collar playfully. “Like a handsome whore who knows what he is.”

“I am a whore. Your whore.” You gasp out.

“Prove it. Bend over the desk and show me just how much of a desperate slut you are.”

Moving on shaky legs, you follow his instructions without hesitation – your body feeling
uncomfortably hot against the hard wood of the table as you bend over it fully, ass high in the
air to entice him into action. A temptation which he is quick to indulge as you feel his
presence behind you immediately.

His fingers trail across the hem of the blood-red dress before hiking it up with a rough tug to
expose your ass to his gaze. A slight hitch in his breath makes a small smirk tug at your lips
as you drink in his reaction to your naked lower half, your underwear mysteriously missing
as the fishnet tights do nothing to hide the obvious arousal which greets him.
“A whore so brainless he appears to have forgotten how to dress himself.” Edward growled
and you hold back a soft grunt as his fingertips pluck at the fishnets which cover your ass
before a harsh tearing sound alerts you to the fact that he has simply ripped through the fabric
for ease of access. “But what a tempting offer, pup. It would be,” he paused, “remiss of me,
to not indulge the whore his needs. Particularly when he’s presenting himself like a bitch in
heat.”

Nodding desperately, you spread your legs further.

Edward is not gentle as you hear the soft unzipping of his slacks and he brushes his cock
against your slit for a moment before thrusting within you in one brutal sweep of his hips. It’s
pleasure and pain rolled into one and it draws a shuddering cry from your lips as your fingers
grip the desk until the whites of your knuckles show.

He sets a frantic pace, his hands digging in to your fabric-covered hips as his balls slapped
obscenely against your hole. His cock was as familiar as ever and the stretch of it brushing
against your walls is quick to build a growing band of tension across your groin – a feat
which is only made worse as one of his hands drops from your hips to creep around and
stroke along your engorged clit. The surge of pleasure is almost cruel in its intensity and your
knees buckle slightly against the wood.

“Too much, pup? Well too bad. I might not be paying for this, but I know your kind.” Edward
growled, his cock twitching within your hole. “You’re nothing more than a series of holes to
be used. A pathetic whore, desperate for someone to use him. To make themselves feel good.
To fill him with cum and leave, like the good piece of meat he is.”

The degrading words, mixed with his skilful manipulation of your clit, prove too much and
your orgasm hits without mercy – your body writhing against the wood as your lips spill a
series of pleas and encouragements without any real thought. Through it all, Edward keeps up
his rapid pace as his cock hollows you out but the harsh clenching of your hole around him as
you desperately pull him deeper with every thrust is enough to push him into his own climax.

“Ahh- take it all you whore. Every drop.”

Still riding the waves of your own orgasm, the sudden burn of heat within your hole as he
buries himself as deep as possible draws a fresh groan from your lips which matches the one
that slips free of Edward’s own as his fingers grip your hip deeply enough to ensure some
soft bruising. It’s intense and you ground yourself in the feeling of being used, loving the
shameful way which it continues to spark heat across your shuddering frame.

Eventually he pulls free, his cock leaving a barren coolness in its wake as you feel just how
wet and messy your hole is, but it’s a sensation which lasts only a moment as his fingers
press against your slit. The sensation catches you off-guard and you jerk in place until his
free hand presses roughly against your back to keep you in place as his fingers press his
escaping release back into your twitching hole.

“Every drop, pup.” He warns in a thoroughly satiated tone. “And if you spill any then we’ll
just have to do it again until every inch of you is filled.”
 Riddler - Body Worship (5 sentence fic)

"When you lie under me like this, it reminds me of how fascinatingly similar pleasure and
engineering truly is."

A gloved hand glides across your slit, meeting absolutely no resistance as you spread your
legs further and allow him to press his fingers within you, your walls fluttering to swallow
him greedily.

"A few manipulations here," Edward muses as his fingers curl and his free hand tweaks your
pebbled nipple, "a stiff pull there, and then all it takes is a simple press of a button to have
you pliant in my hands."

At the last statement, his thumb moves to brush cruel, firm circles around your clit and a yelp
breaks free of your throat at the sudden sharp pleasure- the stimulation almost too intense as
your body writhes in place beneath his emerald gaze.

"Your pleasure is a challenge, but one which deserves to be a task which is savoured by a true
master."
 Telltale Riddler - Daddy Kink (5 sentence fic)

"Say it." He demands roughly, his hips stilling as he remains sheathed inside you, stretching
you out as you writhe against the harsh wall behind your back. "Earn what I'm going to give
you, little bird."

"More, daddy." The word falls from your lips as a flush of aroused shame pinkens your
cheeks, your legs wrapping around his waist as intelligent eyes, darkened by his lust, pin you
in place as he drinks in your embarrassment.

"Louder."

Ever the tease, his patience is unshakeable as gloved hands wrap around your wrists,
preventing you from taking any more pleasure from him that he allows.

"Fuck me," you whine, pulling your left wrist free from his grip to boldly thrust it into his salt
and pepper hair, "daddy."
 Riddler - Milked (5 sentence fic)

"Please?" He begs, the hoarseness of his voice sparking a sadistic pleasure within your core
as he lays his desperation clear in his tone and the slight quake of his kneeling legs.

The spreader bar between his ankles does a fantastic job of keeping his legs wide and inviting
as you rub your thumb along the sensitive area just above his hole, tutting your
disappointment in his quitter attitude.

"Handsome boy," curling your fingers against his prostate once more with a firm pressure,
the act makes his cock jerk with a pathetic twitch into your other hand and you smirk at the
broken moan which he attempts to hold back, "you're doing so well for me. I think you can
manage one more? Just to show me how brilliant you are."

The shudder which wracks him is delicious and you smirk to watch his ass arch a few inches
higher from its fallen position as he follows your instructions like a good and handsome boy
should.
 Music Meister - Teased

“Oh, baby.” You purr, grinding yourself down on his trapped cock and enjoying the way in
which his length twitches beneath the dark silk boxers which hide his length from your
interested gaze. “This must be awful for you.”

A garble of unintelligible words pass through the fabric gag which binds his dangerous lips
and you instead focus on running your hands down his exposed chest, the open and
ridiculously frilled shirt fluttering away as you spread it further with teasing fingers.

“What’s that? Hmm? I can’t hear you! The great Music Meister foiled by a little slip of
cloth.” A pretty laugh slides from your lips as you roll your hips and rub your ass against his
straining groin. “All trussed up and ready to be played with.”

Slipping your hand lower, you graze it across his cock in a vicious tease and your mouth
splits into a mean-spirited smirk as you feel the slight wet patch which is quickly developing
through the silk.

“It really must be awful, darling. Being so hard and ready to be stroked and blown like one of
those musical instruments you love so much. Which would you rather? Hmm? My hand on
your cock, slipping along the velvety length like a trumpet slide? Or my mouth teasing at
your cock with my lips and tongue? You seem to appreciate my impressive embouchure?”

Pinching his nipple between your knuckles as you whip him into an aroused frenzy, the way
his brow knits at the rough contact is very endearing. His nipples are pink and peaked,
begging for attention and you can’t help but fiddle with them as he writhes against the chair
he is loosely tied to. Rolling the nubs between your fingers nets you a soft sigh and a harder
pinch forces his chest to arch towards you – his traitorous body desperately seeking more as
his expressive eyes meet your own, blown wide and darkened by the lust which he isn't being
allowed to act on.

“So easy to play, aren’t you, my love?”

 Scriddler - Choking (5 Sentence Fic)

Even through the fabric of his glove, Edward could feel the heat radiating from the figure
below as his fingers flexed around the willing throat.

"No babbled words of cheap psychoanalysis?" Edward clenched around the cock which was
buried deep within his ass as he kept up a fantastic pressure on Jonathan's neck; tight enough
to constrict the airflow but with some slack to ensure that he did not accidentally kill the
cantankerous bastard. "How far the mighty have fallen, dear doctor."

Jonathan's typically pale face was mottled by delightful shades of red which deepened as he
unleashed a strangled grunt, the result of Edward rolling his hips into his aching groin as he
accepted his cock fully.

The lack of oxygen created an overwhelming intensity which made his blood rush in his ears
and his aching cock twitch and jerk with every passing second.

"I can feel that, you know," Edward chuckled with an openly mocking edge, "and it warms
my heart to know just how desperate the infamous Scarecrow becomes at the promise of a
little asphyxiation."
 Twiddler - Ice (5 sentence fic)

A muted noise of discomfort jerked free of Harvey's lips as Edward adjusted his grip on the
thin bag of ice, the new angle allowing the frozen cubes to sit more directly against his
pulsing temple; the headache there making his left eye feel aflame behind the scarred
remnants of his eyelid.

"Never liked a cold compress." Harvey complained, his pitch low and rough as he rode out
the intense chill. "Feels like shit."

"Ice can be quite the aphrodisiac if you know how to use it-"

Plucking a cube of ice from the bag, Edward pinched it in his free hand as he traced it down
the jagged edges of the scarring which marked Harvey's upper chest - the healthy collection
of hair given a patchwork quality by the erratic blemishes. He paused to roll the ice between
his warm palm and the stiffened peak of Harvey's nipple, eliciting a fresh groan from behind
the thinly pursed lips.

"-and I know how to use it."

 Captain Boomerang - Marks (5 sentence fic)

"Fucks sake, Digger." You groan, surveying the damage his blunted teeth have gnawed into
the mottled skin of your tits. "Really?"

"Can't help it, babe," a cocky and thickly accented voice floated from over your shoulder as
Digger appeared as though summoned, "and that goes double for when they're right in my
face while you're bouncing away on my fat coc-"

Interrupting him with a sharp hushing noise, you settle your back against the hairy expanse of
his chest as you allow him to wrap his arms around your waist. His thick fingers are quick to
press against the embedded teeth marks, testing the pressure it takes to get a whine of
discomfort as he openly gropes at your tits once more.

"Digger." You warn but the heat is quick to fizzle out into a soft sigh as you settle in to enjoy
the rough touch.
 Black Mask/Black Canary - Non-Con
Chapter Notes

Roman remains the biggest cunt in the world tbh. This was a commissioned piece xx

When his men had brought him the Black Canary, her lifeless body slung over one of their
shoulders with little care, Roman experienced such a surge of delight that he almost groaned
right then and there as his dick went rock-hard in an instant. As powerful as she was, it took
them less than five minutes to unwrap her from her complicated outfit, the spikes and leather
falling to an unceremonious heap on the floor, as he had the strongest of his men hold her
against the wall as the others locked her into place.

“What is she gagged with?” Roman asked, almost breathless as he surveyed the underwear
clad woman, her simple dark bra and panties making his cock ache with anticipation.

“Just some fabric, boss.” Came the reply. “She busted out Danny and Mikhail’s ears before
we were able to shove it in there. The guy came through though, the one who sold her out. He
clocked her good with a pipe and we got her when she was stunned.”

Nodding, Roman moved closer as he pulled free his tie from around his neck. Looping the tie
around her limp head, he secured the fabric gag in her mouth with it to ensure that she
wouldn’t pose any threat after waking.

“Good job, men. You’ve really done it this time. Head down to the Farm and tell them that
it’s on the house. As many as you want, however you want them.”

A familiar sadistic joy alit in the eyes of the men as they received their prize and a few
mutterings of just how many bitches they were going to enjoy fluttered among them. It was
as good a dismissal as any and the men disappeared from the room, their footsteps echoing
against the solid stone of the holding cells which Roman used for his many ‘acquisitions.’

Now alone to truly admire his prize, Roman stood with his weight on his heels as he stared at
her lifeless body, held tight to the wall by the thick metal restraints around her wrists, neck,
stomach and knees. Her blonde hair, so pale that it was almost white, covered most of her
face except for the side which was cut in close to the skull to expose the dark piercings which
littered her left ear. A slight pinkness tinged the very back of her skull and Roman knew
that’s where the pipe had struck her.

Her creamy skin was already marked in areas where she had fought his men. Her upper arm
was bruised and there was a livid mark to her upper thigh which he instantly recognised as
having come from a metal chain being whipped against the skin with some force. The mark
ended where her underwear began and Roman excitedly palmed the scissors which lay inside
his pocked as he anticipated removing them to see what lay below.

No time like the present, he thought to himself cheerily.

Taking her head in his hand, he tapped roughly at her cheeks with his gloved hand as he
attempted to rouse her into consciousness. It took only a few moments before her eyes
scrunched then flew open, a delightful confusion flashing through the blue before turning
hard and hateful as they took in his face – the recognition there making heat flash through his
groin.

“Finally awake, Canary! It’s rude to keep your date waiting you know. Not that a bitch like
you would know that.”

Her attempts to hurl abuse at him were foiled by the gag in her mouth but the rage in her eyes
was undeniable, her almost nude state meaning nothing to her as she pulled at the restraints
with obvious force.

“Careful, slut. That’s no way to behave for your new master.” Roman tutted, pulling his gun
free of its shoulder holster.

Even through the thick gag, her scoff at the self-proclaimed title was clear and Roman
narrowed his eyes at the open disrespect.

“Maybe a quick lesson then?”

A crack of skin-on-skin contact snapped through the air as his gloved hand collided off her
cheek, throwing her head to the side as it strained against the wide metal collar. Colour was
quick to bloom in the spot, a livid pink which would soon deepen and bruise. Naked and held
in place, there was nothing to prevent him from freely exploring her restrained body and he
did so with a leer.

One hand still wrapped around his favourite gun, the other was quick to pluck the scissors
free of his pocket and cut free the bra holding her tits in place. He took his time, making
small snips across the thinnest parts of the material until it fell away to the floor – her nipples
and areolas a deliciously pink colour which made his mouth water.

“Such lovely tits. Can’t wait to have you holding them up for me so I can fuck them.” He
added, gripping her tit in his hand roughly before slapping his fingers across the heft of it –
pausing to admire the way it jiggled in place.

Pressing the muzzle of the gun against her temple, his free hand continued to rain down
blows on her defenceless tits – every hit making them bounce in position as a rhythmic
slapping noise, broken only by the muted grunts of pain, filled the space.

Her creamy skin marked up beautifully and Roman felt his hard cock twitch at the way in
which her skin quickly turned red under his relentless hand. He paused to yank at her left
nipple, tugging the sensitive bud under her back arched off the wall to relieve some of the
pressure. But it was for nothing as he continued to savagely pinch at both nipples until they
were also reddened and peaked.

Dipping his hand back within his slacks, he pulled free the scissors he had already used to
snip free her clothing and tapped them against her chest.

“It’s tempting, little bird.” Roman mocked her. “As much as I know I’ll have fun with these
tits, I’m also tempted to just-”

He cut himself off, instead opening the scissors and closing them across her right nipple with
enough pressure that Dinah could feel the sharp edges of the blades pressing threateningly
against her flesh.

Panic erupted in her chest, her body only stilled by the dear that one wrong movement might
actually damage her, and she instead focused on the rapid beat of her heart as she refused to
look anywhere near the monster who currently held her captive.

“It would make you mind,” Roman continued as he teased the pressure of the scissors,
“because what man would want you after that? A deformed freak who used to have nice tits?
Even your precious Nygma would look away in disgust.”

At the mention of her boss, a scowl deepened her brow and Roman laughed at the sudden
spike in attitude.

“Nygma doesn’t like damaged product. Trust me, I know. But I do.” He laughed. “I’ll have
you kept here as my own personal pet to be loaned out to honoured guests or hired out to any
pervert with enough money to afford you.”

Disgust welled in her eyes but with it came the first real flicker of fear and Roman drank it in
like the finest wine. Hand dropping to his slacks, he grunted as he pulled his cock free – the
hard length jutting free of his suit trousers as he stroked at it thoughtfully.

“I would love to feel that throat wrapped around my cock but I don’t think we’re quite ready
to trust each other yet. So, I’ll wait. Before the end of the week I’ll be thrusting away
between those lovely lips as you open wide and take it like a good little slut.”

Releasing his cock, he dipped his hand into his other pocket to pull free his phone. Ensuring
that the flash was on, he snapped a few quick pictures of his prey – making sure that he got
her face in each one.

“Just a little treat for later. Something to keep my cock hard when we’re parted, baby.”

Again, the rattle of her restraints filled the room as she struggled in place, her hair fanning
across her face and shoulders as she swung her head from side-to-side to test for any
weakness. Ignoring her struggle, Roman put his phone away and instead picked up a small
bead of pre-cum which was threatening to drip free of his cock. Moving closer, he wiped his
finger along her gag.

“You’ll be tasting it soon, don’t worry.”

The weight of the gun in his left hand gave him a wicked idea and he trailed the muzzle of it
down her stomach until it brushed over her panty-covered groin. Following the fabric, he
roughly ground the barrel of the gun against her cunt, relishing in the way which she
attempted to move away from the rough treatment but was unable to do so. Focusing his
attention, he wrapped one hand around the livid mark on her thigh as he used it as leverage to
push the muzzle of the gun even harder into her, forcing it up through the fabric until he was
satisfied with the grunts of discomfort that slipped free of the gag.

Ready to move on, he returned the gun to its holster with a cruel wink in her direction as she
watched his movements through rage-filled eyes. In its place, he pulled free the scissors once
more as he palmed her cunt through her panties.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing with. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were as wet as a slut at all
this lovely attention.”

Gripping the sides of her panties, he cut through the thin, dry material slowly and chuckled as
it fell away to reveal soft blonde curls which he rolled his thumb across gently.

“Wow. It’s been a long time since I saw a bitch who was allowed to be anything but smooth
down there. My men are under strict instruction to keep them clean and any slut who lets
herself go gets to spend some time strapped to the post until she knows better.”

Wrapping a finger around her pubes, he tugged at it roughly and chuckled at the muffled
groan which rang out overhead. He repeated the gesture a few times, choosing a new location
every time as a few stands were snatched loose by his rough treatment. Her groaning
continued, what little movement her hips could achieve canting forward to relieve the
pressure until her eyes glistened with discomfort.

“Pretty.” He grunts. “Maybe I’ll keep them. This, however-”

And without warning, he shoved two of his gloved fingers inside her cunt and grinned as her
whole body stiffened as though shocked. She was dry and with the added thickness of his
leather gloves it was a very tight fit, forcing a grunt from him as he scissored his fingers
painfully within her hole.

Having regained her composure, Dinah’s eyes were wide and wild – her head thrashing as
she bit down on the fabric gag, wishing beyond anything that she had access to her powers.
Her cunt was stinging, the uncomfortable stretch making her feel like the skin was cramping,
and her tits ached like hell. Pain wasn’t a stranger to her but to have this bastards hands on
her hurt more than she was willing to let on.

“Damn, you are one tight bitch.” Roman grunted with the effort as he attempted to add a third
finger. “I would have thought that you’d have a loose cunt from letting the entire Justice
League fuck you.”

He continues to piston his fingers in her cunt, enjoying the way that her walls clenched
around his fingers in discomfort with every cruel curl of his digits. His cock felt ready to
explode, his balls clenching within his slacks as he revelled in the sadistic joy of playing with
a new, powerful toy. His fingers kept their pace for a few minutes until he felt that she was
ready enough.

Rolling his free hand across his cock, he pulled his fingers free of her and spat on his palm –
using it to lube up the end of his cock as he pressed up against her. The reality of what was
about to happen settled in her eyes in an instant as nausea crossed her features to mix with the
anger which refused to leave the strained muscles.

“I’m going to fuck you, bitch.” He growled in her ears, his black mask pressing against the
skin of her cheek. “And I’m going to hurt you again. Then fuck you. Then hurt you. Again
and again until either you break or I get bored of you. Then I’ll throw you to my men as a
reward for their work and if there’s anything left then I’m sure the kennels will have you.”

And with that, he thrust his cock into her cunt – ignoring the awkward positioning which it
took to achieve such a feat. The spit proved necessary as she was still dry as hell with his
fingers only having given him enough room to manoeuvre but she was tight and hot, and he
groaned into her skin.

“Oh yeah, that’ll do nicely, cunt.”

Losing himself in the frenzy of the moment, his hands returned to her tits and grabbed at the
flesh there with clawed hands – tugging at her nipples until they seemed to turn almost purple
under his gloved fingers. With every stretch, her cunt clenched around his cock as her pain
pulled him in deeper and his cockhead bounced messily off her cervix.

She had closed her eyes and he laughed at the small show of defeat, drawing his hand across
her cheek in a vicious slap which bloomed fresh colour across her face. His pace was brutal
and unrelenting, only chasing his own pleasure while trying to inflict as much damage as
possible with his cock and hands. He was already ready to blow by the time he had sunk his
cock into her and his release approached quickly.

Yanking his cock free of her, he growled out a garbed series of insults as his release arced
high across her body, the spurts of cum painting her stomach and thighs with his mess. It was
humiliating and he almost felt ready to go again at seeing her marked by his cum in such a
degrading manner. Sweat-slicked and sated, Roman left his cock out as he scooped up some
of his cum and rubbed it along the fabric gag once more.

“Just another taster, bitch.” He growled, forcing his fingers past the gag into her mouth to
ensure that at least some of the taste would sit in her mouth. Repeating the feat as he gathered
another splatter of cum, he held it on his fingers for a moment before forcing his digits back
up her cunt. “You never know, you might get lucky. I haven’t bred a cunt in a long time –
much less fun than anal or plugging their throats as they panic – but I could make an
exception. Breed you and keep you. Maybe the kid would even have powers.”

Roman cut himself off with a sadistic laugh, one which didn’t meet the madness in his eyes
as he rode out his manic high.

“But maybe not.” He said, finally tucking his cock away. “Cause if you’re all knocked up
then it means that I can’t use some of these.”
Disappearing from view, he returned a few moments later wheeling in a small metal table that
sparked genuine horror in Dinah’s eyes as she glanced down at it.

Covered with all manner of knives and sick-looking toys, the table was crusted with flecks of
blood that also stained a few of the more medieval looking devices. Roman’s fingers tapped
along the table, first tracing the edge of a scalpel before ghosting over a thick metal plug, the
girth of which looked uncomfortable enough without considering the small electrodes which
were connected to the base of it.

“If you’re a good cunt then I’ll only need to use the less damaging things.” Roman cooed.
“After all, a little electricity never hurt anyone. But if you don’t co-operate or do anything
which makes me think that you’re uncooperative,” his hand settled over a opened box filled
with thick medical needles, “then you’ll get to see first hand what happens to bad little
whores.”

Again drinking in the vague look of horror which settled on her features, Roman didn’t
bother to mention the fact that no matter how well she behaved, her hot little body would be
subjected to each of his little toys long until after her mind could comprehend what was
happening to her.
 Scarecrow - Gun Kink (5 sentence fic)

As Crane drags the muzzle of the gun down your heaving chest, it carves a line through the
thin sheen of sweat which his ongoing teasing has sparked to leave a trail in gooseflesh in its
wake. Circling both nipples with a clinical precision, he continues his descent with a cruel
smile that barely covers the soft, excited pants which are slipping through his bared teeth.

The butt of the gun, unyieldingly cold and harsh, finally drops to its intended target as it
presses roughly between your legs and your fingers claw against your restrained ankles as the
cool metal brushes against your aching and thoroughly neglected clit.

"Hush now, little mouse." Crane chastises with a soft mutter. "You don't want to startle me
into pulling the trigger and making a mess of this pretty body, do you?"

Shaking your head and trying to relax the aroused tension which the loaded gun is igniting, a
mewl of desperation breaks free of your chest as he grinds the metal against your clit with a
greater vigour - his own delight at drawing such pathetic noises making his movements more
erratic with every passing moment.
 RiddleStroke - Captured

"You should have kept that big mouth shut, Nygma."

Twisting his fingers, Slade quickly added a third to the mix and growled out his approval as
the forced stretch drew a muffled whimper from the gagged Edward.

"Mppphf."

Whatever protests Edward had were quick to die in his throat as the ball within his mouth
held his jaw wide enough that any discernible speech was reduced to little more than pathetic
mewling.

"Yeah, it's real nice to hear you shutting up for once. Especially since I now know that
mouths talent is better suited elsewhere."

The heat of Edward's ass as it swallowed his pistoning fingers paired deliciously with the
welcoming softness which Slade's calloused fingers were tormenting as he used his knuckles
to further open up Edward - the pulsing hole being shown no mercy at his onslaught. It had
been almost six hours since their confrontation and Slade was not finding the redhead genius
any less amusing to play with.

Nygma was attractive with his striking hair and boyish looks - his pale neck delightfully
sprinkled with freckles which Slade had made sure to bruise his fingertips into as he held him
in place while he serviced his cock.

"Brains over brawn only wins if brawn doesn't also have brains."

Growling out his words with a smugness wrapping around the truth, Slade tightened his grip
on Edward's body as red hair shook out its disagreement and Edward's caged frame tensed up
- restrained hands clawing against his back in anger as they remained pinned roughly in
place.

"What would your detective say? Huh? Do you think the Bat will take you seriously after
knowing you've spent time wrapped around my cock?"

Using his free hand, Slade wiped a thumb across the very corner of Edward's mouth,
collecting the slight mess of spit and cum which had gathered there after his last use of the
restrained genius. Pushing that same hand through his own thick salted hair, he grinned as
Edward flinched away from the touch.

Again, Edward struggled in his arms in a show of muted outrage and Slade grinned as he
simply flexed his strength and held him in place as though disciplining a pup. Spreading his
fingers, he applied a cruel pressure to the rim of Edward's ass as he widened each finger as
far as it would go and even through the leather ball gag he heard the anger flip to a distressed,
pained noise.

"Be good or I'll fuck you before I've opened you up properly. Fuck, I'd probably split you in
half like this."

Palming his cock through his boxers, Slade pressed his rock-hard length against Edward's
bare back - it's sheer girth already well known to the redhead who had spent minutes choking
around it as it thrust down his unprepared throat.

Tilting Edward's head back, Slade saw it and his good eye flashed in satisfaction. That little
spark of fear deep in his eyes - the green there sparkling with discomforted and humiliated
tears - was all the confirmation he needed, and he dipped his head to Edward's throat,
dragging the stubble of his beard across the sensitive skin as he circled the pad of the thumb
across Edward's fluttering hole.
 Captain Boomerang - Fingered

Kneeling atop his raggedy bed on all fours, Digger's fingers were so tightly wound within the
thin sheets that you were surprised he hadn't torn through them yet. His back, sweat-slicked
and arching with every gentle move of your fingers, felt very tense beneath your free hand as
you pressed down on the lower end of his spine.

"Stop moving." You growl, pulling your gloved fingers free of his fluttering hole long enough
to smack his ass roughly. "Be good or I'll move on to your back or thighs next."

The skin of his ass was already reddened and sensitive, thick welts having raised the skin
where his own boomerang had been used to punish him for touching himself without
permission. A pain slut, he had taken every blow until his ass looked almost ready to bleed
and his sleazy face was twisted with lust and unshed tears.

At the fresh smack, a pitiful groan escapes him and his head tilts back at you. "I'm wound up
tighter than a nuns cunt here," Digger pants out and you watch as a droplet of sweat rolls
down his crooked nose, "so give me a break, sweetheart. Eh?" His accented words are deep,
roughened by his arousal and you admire his mild restraint in not dropping from his kneeling
position.

"No excuses, baby." You chide, returning the tips of your pointer finger and middle finger to
his ass. "You're the one who begged me for this. Begged! Like a pathetic little bitch asking
for a treat."

Teasing his hole as you push the tips of your fingers in enough to begin stretching him out
once more, your free hand snakes around to his cock - brushing along the very tight cockring
which sits along the base to keep him hard and compliant.

"Then again," pressing against the cockring as you wrap your fingers around his twitching
length, "I don't think anyone could describe you as little."

And it was true, Digger - for whatever reason - possessed a cock that had genuinely shocked
you upon first viewing. Easily two inches larger than any you had seen before, outside of
online porn, it was paired with a delicious girth that made your thighs tremble with a
discomforting ecstacy when he finally managed to fit it all inside.

God may not have loved him, but goddamn did he give him that at least.

Said cock was painfully hard within your grip, the cockring making it almost impossible for
him to come despite all your meddling, and you rubbed your thumb along his throbbing head
with a wicked smile. At the extra stimulation, Digger gasps and his hips move of their own
accord - bucking down into your cruel hand as he also inadvertently fucks himself harder on
your fingers with every thrust.

"Do you want to come, baby?"

"Please." He groans out, his face burying itself in the sheets as he wipes off the sweat. Your
fingers move up to tease along the thin smattering of almost reddish hair which decorates his
chest and you pull at the strands playfully, enjoying the way it makes his breath hitch as he
continues. "C'mon, darling, I've been so good that I'd kill ya for a gobby."

"I'm not putting my mouth anywhere near you." Chuckling, you curl your fingers around
inside his ass until you feel the slightly hardened skin of his prostate and you instantly begin
to massage it with a teasing friction. "You get my fingers and that's it."

Any smart comeback killed in the crib by the pressure of your fingers on his most cruelly
sensitive nerves, he can only whine into the sheets as his knees spread further against the bed.
Taking pity, your free fingers fumble messily with the cockring as they snap it free and
immediately grip around his length - his breathing stuttering as he realises that he's finally
allowed to come.

Hands moving in tandem, in takes less than thirty seconds before Digger is spewing
obscenities into the air which are broken by lewd moans as his orgasm hits, hard. His release,
hips rutting away into your fist like an animal, arcs far into the air as it covers the sheets
beneath him, with a few errand droplets splattering against his neck as he raises his ass high.

"Good boy." You purr, refusing to let up on your ministrations against both his cock and
prostate until his legs begin to shake from the overstimulation and his words become little
more than pathetic whines as he thrusts in place. "Now, let's wait a minute and we'll see if
you can manage another one."

Despite its previous torments, his cock twitches in your hand as the prospect and his
unspoken eagerness earns him another throaty giggle as you consider having him eat you out
in the meantime.
 Riddler - Surveillance/Masturbation

As always, it's impossible to hide anything from Edward and as his voice rings out across the
speaker which is situated up in the corner of his workspace you feel an immediate flush of
arousal as your fingers slip free of your aching cunt.

“Tut. Tut. Tut. Pleasuring yourself on my couch?”

‘Caught’ as hell, you startle as a soft vibration alights on your chest and you glance down to
your phone to see it ringing with a familiar number. Answering, you immediately put the
phone on loudspeaker as you drop it between your tits once again.

“Hello, Eddie.”

“Do not ‘hello Eddie’ me,” Edward’s voice rings out, “not when you are debasing yourself on
my expensive couch and attempting to divert me from my work.”

“I was not.” You lie. “I completely forgot that the western camera faces directly onto this
sofa.”

"The video feed doesn't tell lies. You should know better by now." He scolded playfully, the
anger in his tone not nearly enough to cover the smug arousal.

“Hey, I was just lying here…thinking.” Your fingers trail back down your dark tank top, past
the phone, as they make the slow return journey to their original destination. “Thinking about
this man I know.”

Sounding a little more strained that he had previously as he clearly watches your fingers tease
along your pubic mound, Edward can’t help but buy into your little game. “Oh?”

Circling your finger around your clit in soft, gentle movements, it sparks a sigh in your tone
as you continue. “Mmm-hmm. I think he’s very handsome and so smart that it makes me
want to fuck his brains out.”

An interesting sound, almost like a zip being pulled down, slips through the phone and a wide
grin tugs at your lips as you know you have him as you continue with a pout.

“I wish he was here.”

“And what – ah – what would you want him to do if he was?”

“I’d want him to tell me what to do.” You challenge, looking up directly into the surveillance
camera as you wipe your wet fingers along your inner thigh invitingly.

Taking the bait, Edward’s smug voice came through a little rough – deepened by his obvious
arousal – as he settled into his role.
“Would you want him to tell you to fill yourself with as many fingers as your wanton little
body could handle?”

Thrusting two fingers within your cunt, the sudden fullness makes you moan as you rub the
fingers along your walls, seeking out those little areas which send sparks flying down your
spine. You feel warm and wet, your hole making obscenely damp noises as your fingers
continue to follow his instructions, stretching yourself out deliciously at his command.

“For being such a good girl I think he would tell you to tease your clit, just enough to make
you remember how good he is at massaging it with his tongue.”

A groan slips free of your lips as you do exact that, rubbing the pad of your finger across the
sensitive nub gently – picturing his mouth wrapped around it as he flicked his tongue and
sucked at it until your legs were numb from overstimulation.

“I’d also,” you pant out through your bitten moans, “like to know what he was doing. If he
was stroking along his hard cock, wishing that it was disappearing between my lips as I knelt
between his legs.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s enjoying himself just as much as you are.” Edward purred through the
phone and you can imagine him sitting, cock in hand, as his face is pressed as closely to the
surveillance monitor as possible. “In fact, I think he would pay you a visit when he was
finished stroking himself off to the sight of your wicked little games.”

A bright smile sparking across your lips as your clit throbs in anticipation, you spread your
lips with your fingers as you showcase exactly what he’ll be able to enjoy if he joins you.

“In that case," you purr back, “I suppose I’ll just continue to sit here and warm myself up
until my prince in green armour arrives to give me what I’m needing.”

The phone hangs up and you give a throaty giggle as you drop it off to the side of the sofa.

All according to plan.

 Zero Year Riddler/Reader - Petplay
Chapter Notes

Transmasc reader xx
"Faster than that! C'mon now."
Yanking at the chain which lays comfortably in his palm, the pull forces your body forward
as you move pitifully on hands and knees as he treats you to a very special 'walk' around his
workspace.

Keeping your head tilted as far back as possible, your movements are awkward and stiff as
you try to avoid pulling at the rope which connects the back of your collar to the chrome anal
hook which is so deeply embedded in your ass that every slight jostle burns.

It's a stretch which sparks a jolt in your clit with every ache and your tilted head makes it
very easy to watch Edward's amused face as he looms over you with a cruel smirk.

"Such a handsome boy," Edward coos as a fresh blush spread across your cheeks, "and such a
tempting little beast, just begging to be bred with those big eyes and these-"

Loosing his hand around the chain, he slips to one knee as his deft fingers latch on to your
puffy nipples - their earlier torment at the hands of his twisted suckers making them sensitive
and a little distended.

It's painful yet the sheet arousal that rockets through your groin at the rough touch makes a
squeal of discomforted delight slip past your lips.

"Squealing already?" Edward tuts, one hand breaking free of your nipples to brush through
his red hair. "And I thought you would be happy for such a thrilling walk? Maybe it’s time
for a rest?"

Pausing at his favourite chair, Edward quickly takes his seat as his fingers unhook the chain
from your neck to take off your leash. With similar dexterity, he loosens the rope which
connects your head to the anal hook which is still stretching you out deliciously as you
whimper at the mild relief.

His hand rests on the hook for a moment, slowly pulling it from your clenching hole, and you
grunt from the pain of the stretch as he holds it at the widest point for a moment before
allowing it to pop free. Warm fingers are quick to press at your distended hole, testing how
loose it were as he offers a satisfied hiss.

“Don’t let yourself get too tight before I decide to use it,” Edward hums, “after all, I take no
responsibility for how much it may hurt. Come, sit in my lap, pet.”

Relief pooling in your gut as your various predicament restraints remain on the floor, you
quickly scramble onto his lap, allowing him to guide you in such a way that your back was
pressed against his chest as he released his rock-hard cock from his slacks.

In this position, you both had unfettered access to the other and his delight at the easy access
was clear as his fingers immediately dropped to your engorged clit, your cock as he often
called it.

"It might not be as big as mine." Edward chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest and
into your back. "But it's a sensitive little thing. Isn't it?"

His fingers stroke along your cock, teasing the ultra-sensitive skin with the soft pads of his
fingertips as you spread your legs further - curling them around his knees are you remain
splayed on his lap.

"Beautiful." He praises. "Those little shivers. The slight contractions. So desperate for
attention."

"Something you have in common." You retort between pants as you roll your thumb across
the head of his cock, the heft of it feeling heavy against your slit as he allows it to jut freely
against your groin.

Both cocks fully aroused, you relax against his chest as two pairs of eyes turn downwards to
admire the delicious differences in their appearance. Your cock pulsed beneath his touch, the
length of it slightly larger than usual due to the discarded pump which his delicate hands had
applied and used to engorge and tease the sensitive nerves.

Plump and pink and visibly standing to attention, Edward's fascination with its
responsiveness was as much a curse as it was a blessing.

In return, your fingers tease along his cockhead - stroking the velvety skin as small beads of
pre-cum leak unashamedly from his slit. He might put on a brave face, but you could feel just
how tense his body was and how much control it was taking him to not buck freely into your
hand.

"You're so hard." Edward comments, tactfully ignoring your cheeky reply. "I bet, if you tried,
you could fuck someone with it. I wonder how that would feel, having someone's warm hole
wrapped around your cock as you rut into them like the little, messy pup you are."

A broken moan slips free of your lips as you grind into his lap, forcing his cock to brush
against your own as a bolt of electric pleasure short-circuits your brain.

"Of course," he continues as his fingers pinch at your cock mercilessly, "you can't fuck me.
That would be lunacy. But maybe we can find another pup for you to play with? I'll even buy
you a new collar and plug so you can look your absolute best."
 Captain Boomerang - Choking

His stiff forearm snakes its way around your neck and you moan while tilting your head back
to give him easier access as your cunt clenches around his cock. He's like a force of nature,
intense strength pinning you to the floor in such a way that you can feel him encasing your
body like a beer-soaked cocoon - the scent of sweat cheap cologne strong as hell.

"Digger-" You wheeze out, his skin slapping against your own rhythmically as he hollows
you out - his thick cock battering against your cervix with such a delicious discomfort that
you can't help but shudder under the insatiable heat of his body.

Forearm now pressing roughly against your throat, he flexes the muscles there - hard and as
unyielding as wood - and immediately you find your air supply being cut off by the pressure.
It's euphoric and your body struggles against the loss of air as your cunt squeezes desperately
around his cock as you strain to take in a solid breath.

"So fucking tight, doll." Digger growls, the words slurred and panting due to his exertion.
"Fuck, if ya squeeze any tighter I think you'll chop it off. Fucking hell." He draws the final
word out into a growl.

He lets up just enough to allow fresh air to flood your lungs as you cough and splutter, throat
burning from the sudden onslaught of abuse even as you push back frantically against his
punishing cock.

"More." You groan out weakly, hand scrambling behind your back to grip at his hand as it
presses harshly against your lower back - keeping you mercilessly pinned.

"Fuck." He slurs out, dipping down until his blunted teeth press against the curve of your
shoulder and you feel him bite down, a delicious ache spreading from the mark as the
muscles there twitched. "I'm gonna tear you apart - can feel it," Digger speaks almost
brokenly as his forearm grows stiff against your throat once more, "the stretch."

Unable to speak as the lack of oxygen rushes in your ears with the churning violence of an
uneasy ocean, it's enough to push you over the edge and you come around his cock. Cunt
spasming, your blurred vision dances dangerously for a second as a choked scream of
pleasure is strangled by his arm - his own bestial grunts replacing the weakly squeaking
sound.

Buried fully within you, he loosens his grip as you start to come down from your release; the
mess of your cunt mixing with his pre-cum to leak down your thighs as you shudder and
twitch in place.

"Don't get too relaxed, baby." You can hear the smirk in his words as Digger's hands instead
grip themselves onto the flesh of your hips as he anchors you to his body, giving no possible
room for escape. "I'm still cracking a fat and I'm gonna ruin ya for any other poor bastard."
Already feeling the beginnings of overstimulation making your cunt feel heated, you groan
out a pathetic noise which pitches into a whine as his hips start up their punishing pace once
more.
 Killer Croc - Size Kink

Despite all the preparation, his tongue having long since licked every possible inch of your
cunt with its animalistic texture - a little physical boon which still had your legs twitching
minutes after he had finished eating you out like the finest meal - it was still a difficult fit.

"M'not hurting you?" Waylon asked, his question so low and growled that it was almost easy
to mistake it as little more than a noise as it rolled free of his lips.

Wrapping your hands around the back of his head as you lowered yourself another half-inch
down onto the cock that felt like it was threatening to rip you apart, you gave him a strained
smile as you masaaged your fingers across the hardened skin of his neck.

"It's so thick," you purred, "that I think I'll be ruined for anyone else. Forever."

"Didn't answer me." Not missing a beat, Waylon paused his hips as they circled beneath your
cunt, his natural instinct to stretch you out making his movements stuttered, and the concern
etched on his face forced you to relent your teasing.

"I've never felt pressure like it." You confessed with a breathy moan. "I can feel the muscles
burning as they stretch and the heat of your cock against them. I can feel every one of those
lovely little ridges which decorate the shaft. It's," you pause to search for the right words,
"quite a lot. But it's so good."

A rumble in his chest is his answer and he continues his slow ascent, raising his hips enough
to push his cock another inch and the scorching stretch claws your fingers into his neck even
deeper. What must be a slight pinch against the leathery skin draws a smile from his lips,
exposing razor sharp, stained teeth that you can easily imagine puncturing through your
vulnerable skin - the thought enough to draw a fresh moan and shudder down your spine.

He pulls himself almost free, the drag of each ridge of his cock making your walls feel like
they're being dragged along with him as every millimetre was subjected to wicked torment.
Holding it for a moment before pushing back in, you both found that the movement was a
little easier due to the forced give of the muscles.

A calloused thumb dropped into the space between you, his other clawed hand remaining
tight against your hips, and a keen of pure pleasure escaped you as his thumb spreads your
slit to rub gently along your clit.

"Waylon-" His name is hard on your lips, at once a prayer and a curse as the extra stimulation
makes your body stiffen in place - cunt, if possible, growing tighter around his cock as you
pushed yourself into his curious thumb.

"Nice and slow." Waylon grumbled, clearly enjoying himself even as you see the slight twitch
of strain in his eye as he held himself back from devouring you in the ways that his beastial
urges demanded. "And all mine."
"Yes." You confirm with a pleasurable sigh, willing to wait until it was safe for him to
indulge himself even as the thought of it made your limbs shudder in anticipation. "All
yours."
 Scarecrow - Pregnancy Kink

The pregnancy had been an accident. A careless indulgence of a breeding fantasy pushed too
far, by the time it was discovered the signs were almost undeniable. Jonathan had knocked
you up and you carried his child, heir apparent to the Master of Fear himself.

As difficult as ever, Jonathan’s reaction had been tempered at the news but he himself had
admitted to coming around to the idea as your expanding gut forced him to come to a
decision.

He would soon have a child. Your child. And the stress of that pushed him to higher level of
manic obsession as he strove not only to perfect his work but to ensure a future for his seed.
He would protect you both. Even from himself.

In those darkest moments, when the weight of the Scarecrow pressed at Jonathan and
whispered cruelties into his ear did the idea cross his mind. But the sight of you, rounded and
content as you nurtured his child with an enthusiasm which was only to be matched by his
dedication to his own work, stilled his hand every time. Replacing that temptation with a
guilt which saw him showering you with praise and unfamiliar affections.

Besides, in this state you were more beautiful than ever to him. Your breasts, always a
favoured target of his thin hands, were more sensitive than ever as they swelled with the
passing weeks – growing deliciously sensitive to the point where even his fingers brushing
along the engorged skin made you groan and your legs press spread eagerly.

It amused him no end, even if he perfectly understood the biology behind it and the hormones
which thrummed through your veins. But he was gentler in his own way. Skin which he
would have left mottled with bruises was instead massaged with firm hands to draw out
unnecessary tension which his demands for your services were limited to areas where you
could recline more comfortably, rather than kneel on hard flooring.

His enthusiasm when it came to reciprocating also increased. More nights than most found
him buried between your legs, mouth sloppily attached to your cunt as he devoured you like a
man possessed – one hand spreading your thighs for easier access as the other rubbed
absentminded circles on your distended stomach.

An accident for sure.

But one which he could come around to.

Possibly.
 Captain Boomerang - Pup Play

"Handsome little devil."

Offering the praise with a small smile, you glance down at Digger as he remains kneeling on
all fours like a dog - his body as quick to follow instruction as it is to cause trouble which
was definitely one of his most attractive traits. Naked as a babe, his tattooed frame splayed
itself without shame – the auburn hair which scattered across his body looking unkempt,
particularly around his cock where his pubic bush was in desperate need of a trim.

Surveying him like a prized hound, you lean forward in your chair as you tip the bottom of
his chin up with your toe, forcing him to stare up at you from his submissive position.

"That said, it's weird to hear you shut the fuck up for so long. Hmm. Bark for me." You
demand, pulling at his collar as you lean even further from your chair to loop your finger
through the blue leather which sits tight around his throat.

He follows the demand instantly, his sharp barking being followed by a wolfish smile which
showcases his teeth - slightly stained and crooked in places as he looks up at you expectantly,
awaiting his praise for a job well done. Between his legs, his cock hangs hard and heavy - the
mushroomed head shiny with pre-cum due to its continued denial. He loved this, loved being
put in his place, and it was a role you were more than happy to fill for him as your cunt
floods with your own arousal.

"Good boy." You purr, ruffling at his messy, russet hair with a casual hand. "Maybe you
deserve a reward. What do you think?"

His body is quick in its attempt to rise, and you quickly stop him with your foot as you press
down on his shoulder roughly to force him back to the floor.

"Tsk tsk. No rewards for a bad dog who tries to walk when he should be crawling. Stay on
your knees and come here."

Heat flushes across his face, his crooked nose glinting due to the slight sweat which sits
across the bridge of it.

"Oops." He whines, playing into his role as he bares his teeth with a playful edge.

"Crawl." You beckon him with a finger, spreading your thighs invitingly to show him the
mess that he was responsible for. "And you can show me just what a slobbering pup you truly
are as you enjoy your meal."

For a man on his knees, he makes some speed, and it catches you off guard as thick,
calloused hands envelop your outer thighs and his fingers knead into the flesh there to secure
a steady grip while his face buries itself in your aching cunt. The sudden onslaught of
sensation is intense and your back arches off the back of the chair as his stubble scores its
way along your inner thighs as his breath teases at your hole.

Without hesitation, he dives in and his tongue licks a sordid line up your slit - ensuring that
not a single inch was neglected as his tongue brushes across your throbbing clit. The small bit
of contact makes your thighs clench in his grip and you feel the chuckle of his amusement as
he repeats the feat until you growl and pull him away due to the overstimulation.

It's a mess. His sloppy movements somehow possessing absolutely no finesse as he switches
his attention between your hole, his tongue swirling and pushing into you as he tastes
everything you have to offer, and your clit, his lips circling the ultra-sensitive bud and
sucking it roughly into his mouth. Your hands are rough in his hair, pulling at the ruddy
strands until he grunts in discomfort, but nothing seems to put him off as he drinks in your
every moan like a starving man.

"Digger!" You cry out, toes curling in the air as you dig your heels into his exposed, heavily
tattooed back. "Don't you fucking stop."

"Never, darlin'." A muffled response, one almost muted by your cunt as it remains roughly
pressing into his face. "Y'know me, I eat like an animal. Caviar or cunt - it's all good for ol’
Digger."

Choosing to ignore that sentence, you jerk his head forwards to fully put his smart mouth to
better use. Shuddering into his enthusiasm once again, you settle in for the long run as you
know his stamina will see you a ruined, writhing mess before the session is out.

"And don't even think about pulling away until your lips are numb, and I can't remember how
much of a fucking pain in my ass you are."

Blunt teeth threaten your most sensitive skin for a moment and the sheer cheek of him brings
a smirk to your lips which is quick to disappear as he resumes his role as the most eager little
hound in Gotham.
 Riddler - Reverse Prayer

Groaning in discomfort as his hand tilted your head to the side, the ache in your shoulders
made it difficult to listen to his words as he berated you once again for your perceived
incompetence.

"Come now, sweetheart. Surely my task isn't too difficult for someone who claims to be
different to the dull denizens of Gotham City."

Forced to kneel between his legs as your arms were useless in protesting any movements,
Edward had seen fit to expand on your oral training as he claimed your previous efforts were
lacking. In doing so, and in his own words, he had seen fit to ensure the highest level of co-
operation.

The reverse-prayer position he had asked you to assume was difficult enough to begin with as
your limbs weren't necessarily the most flexible, but you couldn't fault his craftsmanship as
the resulting ropework was impeccable.

He had spent minutes wrapping thin layers of softened, green rope around your arms. Starting
at the elbow and working his way down to your hands, his deft fingers had only ever paused
to allow his lips to lay soft, almost reverential kisses to the skin he was working with. But he
was merciless. Pulling at and manipulating your limbs, he was not satisfied until every
section of your arms were touching equally - despite the muffled grunts and groans of
discomfort which slipped free of the fabric gag he had placed gently in your mouth - and he
had secured the final pieces of rope around your fingers in a clean knot.

That had been almost ten minutes ago and so far you had only been able to take about half of
his cock within your mouth before panic made you pull away. His taste was everywhere
against your lips and the stresses of your throat and arms had led to your sight becoming
glassy with moisture.

"Ready to go again?" Edward asked, the sides of his feet pressing against your naked knees
as they remained rooted to the floor while his own knees clamped around your upper body to
ensure that you couldn't fall back and damage yourself.

"Yes." You cough out, preparing yourself mentally to accept him once again.

Wetting the inside of your mouth, you drop your head forward to capture his stiff cock
between your lips. Teasing the head with your tongue, you wrap your mouth around the head
and massage it gently, ensuring that every part was subjected to some kind of sensation in the
way that you know he adored.

You glanced up at him as you worked, and his lined face gazed back at you unflinching. The
only hint to the pleasure he was hiding very well was the slight sheen of sweat which had
appeared on his forehead, quickly wiped away by the back of his hand as he tapped his
fingers along his grease and oil-stained shirt.
"Now, now." Edward drawled out the words, pulling his cock free of your mouth with an
audibly wet noise. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

Opening your mouth to fire out a quick denial you find your words halted by his fingers as
they slip past your lips to press harshly against your tongue. The taste of metal is quick to
gloss across your senses, making the smallest wrinkle appear between your brow as you fight
to relax against the pressure of his fingers.

"Use your empty head to answer me. I'll keep this teasing, foolish tongue pinned for the
moment."

Shaking your head gently, you straighten your spine to alleviate the tension in your shoulders.
The ache between your legs was almost as bad, your neglected sex feeling wet and sensitive
as you subtly rubbed your thighs together.

"Quit teasing, dear." Releasing your tongue, Edward was firm in his demands. "Waste my
precious time again and I'll leave you like this until morning."

Not doubting the threat of his words, you nodded dumbly and sank your head down on his
cock - instantly taking half of his length into your mouth as the head pressed threateningly
against the back of your throat. Breathing around him, you attempted to relax your straining
muscles as you braved forward another inch.

His reaction is immediate as a soft gasp slipped free of his chapped lips and his hand flew to
the back of your head. Fingers pressed against your scalp, he held you there in position for a
moment until he felt you push back against him.

Coughing lightly as you pulled free once more, the taste of his pre-cum seemed to coat your
mouth and your tongue licked at your lips, a slight ache in your jaw making the bones there
click in place.

"Not good enough." Edward chastised, his free hand dropping to your chest as he playfully
slapped at your left nipple, "which is disappointing. Truly. Even the most braindead of
Gotham's cheapest whores is capable of achieving this simple task. Perhaps a more direct
force of hand is necessary?"

Without giving you a moment to consider what that meant, his hand on your head tightened
to the point of pain and as your mouth opened in a discomforting gasp, he thrust his cock
within your mouth - burying his full length down your throat without mercy.

Instantly your body flew into panic, fingers flexing against their bonds as your panicked
throat constricted around his invasive cock. Having had no time to prep, already the lack of
oxygen made your eyes sting and water freely - a fat tear rolling down your left cheek.

Heat flared across your body as your knees quaked in place; unable to pull free of the floor
due to the pressure of his body pinning your own into place.

A panicked gurgle humming free of your blocked throat, the blood rushing in your ears is
almost painful as he snatches his cock free just as abruptly. Coughing and spluttering as a
shameful strand of drool dripped free of your lips to your exposed chest, you almost miss his
smug words as you struggle to control your breathing.

"Better." Edward growled. "But make no mistake, you won't be rising from this position until
you've swallowed down everything I have to offer."
 Scarecrow - Bound

Extending his hands, Jonathan allowed the soft rope to loop around his thin wrists – first the
left and then the right – as she pulled his arms taut to secure them to the wooden bedposts
which stood proudly at the corners of the bed.

“Good boy.” She hummed, her approval sparking a traitorous flash of heat in his groin as he
immediately craved to hear it again. “Being so good and listening to me.”

His cock lay hard against his stomach, heavy and wilfully neglected by her cruelty until he
had submitted to her easy demands. The cold air of his bedroom washed across his naked
frame and he shivered, his skin breaking out in gooseflesh as his gaze locked on to the ceiling
above.

Against his better judgement, his hands pulled against the restraints, testing them for any
weakness and an unfamiliar anxiety touched at his when none was to be found. He was
trapped. Truly. Left at the wicked mercy of his little mouse.

It was an odd thought. His utter aversion to any kind of vulnerability making his heart race
and his sweat break across his brow.

Restrained.

Helpless.

Unable to defend himself from anything which sought to destroy him, destroy his work. Even
his little mouse could change her mind, use this opportunity to punish him for his sins, and
not in the way which he enjoyed.

She didn’t seem the type. Murder did not sit in the shadows of her gaze and her actions were
nothing if not honest – even when he had wronged her. And yet-

“Jonathan, hey. Are you okay?”

Realising that he was panting slightly, Jonathan dragged his gaze from the ceiling to his little
mouse – her body perched beside his own as she watched him with open concern leaking into
the heated arousal which graced her features.

His cock twitched at the sight of her, his mild anxiety and spiralling thoughts only serving to
stoke the fire of his excitement. Flashing her an expectant look, he allowed the feeling to
spread, to heighten his senses in what promised to be a uniquely intense session, as he offered
her a deadpan response.

“When am I not?”

x-x-x-x-x
You had to admit that he looked lovely like this. Spread across the bed as his arms visibly
flexed against the sheets, the look of mild anxiety which nipped at his features before being
quickly snuffed out had concerned you but he seemed determined to continue regardless.

“Good.” You purr, slipping down the bed before shuffling quickly between his legs. His cock
lay heavily against his skin, proudly hard as hell and gently weeping pre-cum across his
stomach. “Then maybe you deserve a little kindness.”

Dipping down low, your back arching as you remain kneeling against the sheets, you wrap
one hand around his cock and admire the way in which his body visibly jerks at the contact.
Your other hand quickly loops around his neck, pressing against his windpipe just enough to
make him cough.

His gaze is intense, so clouded by arousal that the deep brown of his iris appears almost black
as his eyes flash and his throat swallows beneath your grip. Slowly, rubbing your thumbs
across both the side of his neck and his cock in tandem, you purr out the promise which you
were more than willing to fulfil.

“Keep being good for me and I’ll give you everything you want and more.”
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