Welcome to my little story nook! I'm currently writing predominantly for DC Rogues, but you will find other fandoms as the inspiration strikes! Most of the fics are smut, so I would appreciate minors not interacting though there are some fics that are sfw ish.
all fics are tagged with tib!writes
Current Projects:
Philia Fest: a collection of one shots revolving around paraphilias.
Pollinating Arkham: a collection of one / two sex pollen fics. starter post found here
Requests: Open!
Commission information // Table of Contents
General Rules;
if you send anon hate i won't be posting it. it's gonna get snipped for the group chat to laugh at and not responded to. if you enjoy my take on your prompt feel free to select an emoji when you come back again.
i write just about anything as you'll see going through the blog; vore, non con, monster fking, knife play, etc, are on the table. it is RARE that you'll leave me stumped or stunned as i enjoy a challenge. but i won't write children in adult situations, and i don't do bathroom play or anything adjacent.
i do try to tag the darker things, but as this blog will include the outlast fandom i feel like if you're not comfortable with darker themes this will not be the blog for you and that's okay. there are a ton of writing blogs out there and i hope you find the one.
stay safe. i mean that. no matter where in the world you are you being you and happy is the most important thing in the world to me and you have all my well wishes.
Anons:
🐻👁️🗨️
tips are appreciated as i'm currently out of work, you can buy a kofi here!
so i had the full intention of filling up the queue and then turning it on while i hid on my RP blog but then the depresso espresso hit and i was strugglin to tread water.
that being said expect the queue to start up this week . thank you for your patience xx
Eenie Meenie Miney Mo
Edward "The Riddler" Nygma x reader
wc: 1196
He had far too much time on his hands was all you could think as you walked into the library and watched as the brights slowly dimmed. How did he even manage to get these things into place? It had to take major construction, time, and yet somehow… Your thought process cut off abruptly, watching the floor part, mechanics groaning, watching as a cage slowly rose with a mixture of awe and exhaustion.
“In this room I have hidden the clue to your next destination.’ The speakers made sense, it was easy to believe he could set up a recording that was wired into the sound system. Where the fuck had he gotten tigers?? “Now the riddle.’
You still weren’t sure this was a good idea, but it’d been a long boring stint in Arkham and he said he needed a bit of brain teasing to get the creative juices flowing. Which apparently meant doing a massive remodel of Gotham Library’s basement, first, and second floor. Small things. Wandering the room, you skimmed the title of books, spun a globe, set a planet into orbit triggering the rest of the orrery into motion. There were a lot of busts here, authors, scientists, philosophers.
“Who would philosophize catching a tiger?’
No one in their right mind was the immediate thought, quickly followed by an unnecessary apology. Firstly because he wasn’t even there, though you were sure that he had camera access. And secondly for all his talent at reading body language he was not, in fact, psychic. Continuing on your circuit took you closer to the cage, which was surprisingly clean. They must have been recently placed, unable to resist moving closer at a flicker of light.
Collars? Selina. Of course she’d have helped him, she was almost as endeared to causing chaos as the clown. But it also explained why they looked so healthy. Was she here? You head tilting back to look up at the high ceiling, looking for places she could perch and enjoy the show. There were several, but no one there, stumbling back feeling a rush of air from a swipe of a large paw.
“Keep in mind they are hungry, and you do have a time limit.’ …. He wouldn’t let you get eaten by tigers would he? Was that why he’d told you to wear pajamas without buttons? “Should you fail to answer the riddle, the cage will open and well… Let’s hope your legs work faster than your brain in that case.’
Bitch.
The appearance of neon green should not have surprised you, and yet you stared up at the numbers showing four colon fifty-nine feeling not just that but also a little bit impressed. No where near the elaborate trappings offered to the Batman, but then you were some six foot plus furry assaulting the mentally ill. Though if this went badly and you survived, you might be assaulting one yourself. The riddle itself, if it could be called that, didn’t give you a lot to work with.
Eyeing the busts of philosophers through the age you felt your teeth grit and tried to suppress your irritation. Tigers, from what you could recall were found in India and Russia, orange and white. And given Edward’s distaste of religion it narrowed it down slightly, moving to read the bronze plates but couldn’t find Krishnamurti, or Gogineni. Chernyshevsky, and Herzen, were also not present. The tigers had to be important, but maybe not as a clue to the origin.
A loud chuff pulled your attention from the busts, turning to consider the tigers as their massive paws pressed against the bars of the cage. You hoped it was sturdier than it looked, but then there weren’t many things that would look like it could handle the frustration of a feline that large. You certainly wouldn’t be able to, watching as sharp claws slowly slid free of their sheath as one of the tigers gripped metal and pulled.
Three colon twenty-five.
That was plenty of time to attempt brute forcing an answer, eyeing the closest bust suspiciously. But there was also a high chance that he’d trapped it to avoid you doing just that. Edward took it so personally when people found ways around having to submit themselves to his idea of clever. The last time you’d tried it had left you curled up in a ball on the floor attempting to regain control of your limbs as they’d twitched and flung themselves about after the electric current that had been forced through you.
So while you were pretty sure you had the time to do so, it would probably be detrimental to your health if you did. Sighing, you read the riddle again. So it was a philosopher, and he had something to do with tigers. You could almost hear the way he mocked you for this being child’s play, so easy he would have cracked it before the sentence had finished. Meanwhile you were going to wind up going eenie meenie miney mo-
…..
The idea was so ridiculous that you wanted to strangle him even as you circled the room again. If he wasn’t there you were going to be conflicted. Happy, because the stupid answer wasn’t going to piss you off. Frustrated because you honestly couldn’t think of anything else, and you’d just wanted a fun little scavenger hunt. Except the proffile you could see just ahead looked like the kind of guy that would be name- Fuck.
“Very good!’ Came the patronizing tone over the speak system, your eyes narrowing at the bearded marble that you wanted to pick up off the shelf and throw to the floor. “Did you know it is supposed that the reason Aristocles was called Plato was due to his previous interest in wrestling. It left him rather broad, which the greek word for is platon.’
Child’s play, toe. He really wasn’t feeling his best if he was resorting to “riddles: like that. It felt clunky, and you were absolutely going to tell him that directly to his face. Turning when you heard a click and whir of mechanics. For a split moment you’d thought that his trap had set itself off by mistake, reaching for the small green envelope that had been beneath the bust.
To be fair, you could have forced the answer, if you’d been looking close enough. Plato’s was the only bust that had a disruption in the dust around it. They really needed to clean better…
“Go on, read your next clue!’ You did not flick off the cameras, it took a lot. “I’m looking forward to your solving this one.’
And the one after that, and the one after that, you were sure. Still, it was probably helping, and later he’d look back on these with shame and you’d get to enjoy the aggressive side of him that he tried to act like didn’t exist. The one that left bruises where no one else could see them that had you thinking about him all day as they ached. As if he didn’t already live rent free in your head just for smiling sweetly at you.
so you don't ship bruce with talia but you ship him with his kids?
i don't actively seek it out, but outside of Damien who's blood related i'm not against it.
to start, dick isn't just his son that's his brother too, bruce didn't know wtf he was doing when he got dick he had the vaguest notion of an idea and he was blessed by gods far too kind with Alfred to help pick up the slack. that's not just a father son bond, there's trauma bonding, there's growth etc. but at no point has dick ever been just his "son". when it's done with thought outside of "they'd look hot together" but pointing out moments in their past that helped them bond i'm down to clown.
jason wasn't looking for a dad and bruce wasn't looking for a son, it wound up being something good for them both until y'know. it wasn't. gods that ended badly, but then jason came back from the dead, and he's not the same lil ray of sunshine he used to be, he's angry like dick was, and he blames bruce for it and yeah bruce played a part but so did his pride. so i can see them trying to grow past that and finding something new.
i can do this with all of them, there are ways to be interested in something for the insight and not just getting inside each other physically. if it's just smut i'm not interested, they all have their own people for that. but for a use of history and exploring other forms of bonding etc? yeah i can get down
the only other thing i've seen about it being terrible and omg they can't is people confuse evolution of emotion and grooming. realizing that you don't love someone platonically but instead romantically is something that can happen, there's a reason there's so many cliche novelties you can buy that love grows.
tl;dr because women can do horrible things to men too and trying to act like it's some small thing he'd get over is inconceivable to me.
i put the rest under a readmore because i rambled and i try not to edit my rambles because they're honest
idc about her race, as a mixed child i cannot begin to tell you how i do not give a fk about race i've been choking on it one way or another my entire life.
my focus is on the fact she was so obsessed with if not being the heir than creating one she could control with the man her father refused to give up on as the heir. ra's wanted bruce to be his successor so bad it made him look stupid and that was infuriating.
and she wound up doing not one deplorable thing, the drugging, but another when the child she had wasn't exactly what she wanted she dropped that off in Gotham and called it a day. it sucks. i hate it. but i appreciate the fact that the hyper focused vindictive creature stayed that way. not because she's middle eastern, or female, or any other sort of empowerment / slander, but that they didn't try to twist her up into something she isn't just for furthering someone else's development.
now is that through mine own lens? am i missing nuances because my life experiences guide my perception to pick up what it does? absolutely. i'm never going to be like "eugh brotha!! you can NOT ship that." that's not my place, but i don't have to ship it with you.
i have no leg to stand on considering the ships i do add to the tibbay (you get it? like a bay for ships, but also it's mine and my name is tibby ... it was funny in my head) and a lot of them are questionable at best. but that one just rubs me wrong because a villain should be allowed to be a villain, i like them stains and all. her learning from that moment in her life and trying to change later on? great, i might have missed it, i skip around in the comics like i'm al capone dodging the irs. but everything i see for the ship has bruce just "it doesn't matter it's the past" and as someone whose trust has been broken like that no it doesn't. he can't even let go of his parents death and he's had years to come to terms with it. he obsesses over wrongs, but he just let that one go because it led to a son. no, not the storyline for me.
the answer to the first is yes. btas got me hooked on batcat cuz i was but a tyke in the wild. but then my uncle got me into the comics and i will forever be an armada commodore
the problem is i ship weird shit because i find one panel or one moment in the DCAU and i turn into that leonardo dicaprio gif where he's sitting upright, clicking his fingers and pointing. it's easier to say what i don't ship.
.... i don't do bruce and alfred, or bruce and talia i'm not a fan, i know that it's been retconned, and in the arkham games they were trying to sell the "no he does love her!" bruce and babs are also a no go
........ realizing my main ship complaints are bruce x whoever amuses the hell out of me
outside of those i am genuinely struggling to think of a ship i haven't at least read a short fic of out of morbid curiosity and left with a "I can see that.'
i've come to realize that sometimes when i write i don't sound like i adore jonathan crane to an unhealthy degree:
At the very least it was Jon, and not that other thing that lurked in his subconscious waiting to take advantage of how the man crackled like a glow stick when he moved.
... listen. first of all i'm a super fan of the glow stick okay? secondly this was typed with so much love in my heart i almost choked reading it aloud to the chat
He had far too much time on his hands was all you could think as you walked into the library and watched as the brights slowly dimmed. How did he even manage to get these things into place? It had to take major construction, time, and yet somehow… Your thought process cut off abruptly, watching the floor part, mechanics groaning, watching as a cage slowly rose with a mixture of awe and exhaustion.
“In this room I have hidden the clue to your next destination.’ The speakers made sense, it was easy to believe he could set up a recording that was wired into the sound system. Where the fuck had he gotten tigers?? “Now the riddle.’
You still weren’t sure this was a good idea, but it’d been a long boring stint in Arkham and he said he needed a bit of brain teasing to get the creative juices flowing. Which apparently meant doing a massive remodel of Gotham Library’s basement, first, and second floor. Small things. Wandering the room, you skimmed the title of books, spun a globe, set a planet into orbit triggering the rest of the orrery into motion. There were a lot of busts here, authors, scientists, philosophers.
“Who would philosophize catching a tiger?’
No one in their right mind was the immediate thought, quickly followed by an unnecessary apology. Firstly because he wasn’t even there, though you were sure that he had camera access. And secondly for all his talent at reading body language he was not, in fact, psychic. Continuing on your circuit took you closer to the cage, which was surprisingly clean. They must have been recently placed, unable to resist moving closer at a flicker of light.
Collars? Selina. Of course she’d have helped him, she was almost as endeared to causing chaos as the clown. But it also explained why they looked so healthy. Was she here? You head tilting back to look up at the high ceiling, looking for places she could perch and enjoy the show. There were several, but no one there, stumbling back feeling a rush of air from a swipe of a large paw.
“Keep in mind they are hungry, and you do have a time limit.’ …. He wouldn’t let you get eaten by tigers would he? Was that why he’d told you to wear pajamas without buttons? “Should you fail to answer the riddle, the cage will open and well… Let’s hope your legs work faster than your brain in that case.’
Bitch.
i was working on something else involving ed plotting a heist and this particular riddle came to mind but didn't fit the heist. if you'd like, comment what you think the answer to the riddle is, the second part, as well as the answer to the riddle, will be posted o5/14
the way i feel when i've started six different fics in under four hours because the muse wandered off or another got really loud and none of them are doing what they're supposed to so i've started a seventh only to have number four roll back in upset because hdu you could have chased me down while number one is just here's the end but i'm not helping you with the part we're at you can fuck right off
if you wonder how your local semi domesticated abomination is doing pls picture the image below:
Lick of Fire Taste of Brimstone MDNI 18+
Deacon Jospeh Blackfire x Garfield "Firefly" Lynns
wc: 1.264
song on repeat: Killing in the Name - Rage Against the Machine
He felt feverish, which was not new by any means, but this particular fire wreaking havoc was not his own. It was an intruder, unwelcome, glaring sightlessly ahead of him as he battled against the compulsions whispered in the back of his mind. Seek, touch, taste, he would not. The only voice he listened to was his own, the commandments set ahead him his own making not… whatever this was. Even the slow slide of the door on its track did not assuage his suspicions.
A test, he knew that to be true to the marrow of his bones and yet still he rose, shambling forward on limbs heavy. It was something on the air, hands gripping the door frame as though to stop the rest of him from leaving, head falling back and seeing what almost seemed to be sparks dancing under the too bright lights. Brightness to cause discomfort, light meant to make sleep difficult. A low considering noise in his throat sent subtle vibration lower, leaning farther and feeling joints stretch and ache.
And who had the woman been, he’d been roused by the bitter bite of the voice without truly hearing what it had said. Not one of his flock, head slowly lowering and arresting as his eyes caught those far too close. The smell of ash and singed hair filled his nose when he took in a breath to speak, settled against the back of his throat and dammed it. Instead an arched brow is offered, a silent reprimand ignored as the Firefly shifted closer.
“I’ve things to confess.’
That was not his problem, jaw shifting angrily as throat is cleared to lash out at the blasphemer. His gospel was not a joke, the faith he coaxed from the coal dull eyes of non believers not to be mocked. But the graze of fire scarred fingertips skimming over his stomach is hard to ignore, the way they creep slow and inexorably up his chest like licks of flame tempting.
“I’m no priest, boy.’
Even to his own ears the words aren’t harsh enough, a hiss of irritation at best, not the thunderous disapproval he’d meant to convey. It’s enough to cause Joseph to take a step back, fingertips dragging along rust pitted metal. The unintended invitation is taken advantage of, clammy palm sticky as it presses insistently, stuttering down to shamelessly grope him beneath thin protection of fabric. This close he can see the fire is attempting to devour the other as well, it’s there burning deep in his eyes. But where he’s fighting it, Garfield allows the heat to drive him as it will.
It would be so easy to give in to temptation, to sink into the scalding waters and allow it to over take sense and dignity. With each breath the urge to submit is harder to resist, feeling the scrape of chapped lips against his throat as the hand squeezes rhythmically. Relentless, demanding, and almost a century of iron will threatens to waver beneath the onslaught. A master of personal fate threatened to be forced by insidious means to become collared slave to a mindless lust that croons even as it flogs.
But at least it can be on his terms, cupping the man’s shoulders and pushing. Down, not away, and his body jerks when force is met with so little resistance. Almost topples over the man who’d fallen to his knees with more ease than the supplicants who’d once craved his teachings. The back of his head hits the wall with a thunk, as if he could manage to knock loose the claws that are burrowing into his thoughts. The rough pass of lips low on his belly guides his hand, cradling the patchwork scalp of soft bristle and scar tissue.
He barely has time to reset his feet, shoulders pressing against the wall as he stares up at the ceiling. Decades of self control struggling to regain some measure of control failing miserably, hushed praise falling from his lips as fabric is dragged out of the way. The feeling of the other man’s mouth moving lower before the obstacle is removed fans the furious flames that threaten to steal his wits. As does the shameless way unshaven cheek scraped against his hip as his cock is cradled in the man’s palm.
It is a kind of devotion, Joseph supposes, though he refuses to look down, unwilling to accept this surrender gracefully. Eyelids flutter, struggling not to close them at the heat that breezes past the new slick glans, breath catching with each shameless drag of tongue as the hand slowly encircles. Tactical retreat, feeling teeth catch foreskin and tug, but the way the fingers tighten against stiffening flesh. It’s not enough, by any means, hand pressing, nails digging as he twists and is rewarded by the rasp of chapped lips over exposed sensitive flesh.
The lack of technique in itself is seductive, taunting, thrusting harshly into the heat and feeling the flesh reluctantly give. Who is he to deny such desperation, feeling the jerk of Garfield’s head as he’s forced to take the head of Joseph’s cock to the back of his throat. The odd knock against his knee is distracting, finally forced to look down and finding Garfield grinding the heel of his hand against his still confined length.
A show of modesty, or was he just a mindless thing of lust, it was obvious he had little experience in fellating but the lack of self preservation made up for it. Though that could be the drive to seek release, which he struggled against, a hand scruffing him like a poor mannered mongrel and dragging him where he did not want to go. And he did not want to go, did not want to end this moment of smoldering that would end with the taste of ash in his mouth and the cold of his cell.
But the whines and whimpers while he tried to thrust even deeper, as if there farther to go, breath whistling past clenched teeth. As if the hand Garfield had placed on his hip wasn’t frantically shoving when he was forced to try and swallow around the flesh ruthlessly grinding just behind his soft palate. Choking as Joseph came, spine curving with the intensity that bordered on pain, hand slipping as the man on his knees managed to wrench his head free.
Not that he tried to escape by any means, staring down at the dazed expression, the flushed skin as the mouth opened wide. Shameless, feeling a sliver of control assert itself, a lie that he willingly accepted watching the way the mess is cleared away. With sharp sucks that make his already weak knees threaten to collapse altogether, watching hazily at the way he cupped the hanging testes to lick upwards, pressing the flagging cock upwards to then suck at the tip.
Too much, but the grin offered was a challenge and Joseph managed to avoid kicking the man in the chest to force him away. Body tense as that furnace coaxed his cock back to stiffness in spite of itself, teeth dragging foreskin over glans. The moan in response to the heel that slammed down over his hand made the room still, the silence broken by heavy breathing as Joseph felt the hand slide away. A silent invitation, cautiously accepted, seeing whites beneath lids that fluttered as a groan rattled in the other's throat.
There were all sorts of acceptable supplication, Joseph supposed, watching the man’s breath grow ragged as he ground his heel.
If you would like to request an x reader (doctor, nurse, orderly, guard, or fellow patient) and a rogue in this particular "verse" use my kofi the amounts are the same as my tip and can be found under the commission tab! Slots are limited
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Always a Gentleman MDNI 18+
Edward "The Riddler" Nygma x Selina "Catwoman" Kyle
wc: 1.621
song on repeat: She Keeps Me Up - Nickelback
In hindsight, it shouldn’t have come as such a surprise. Where Selina was always very touchy, an on and off again annoyance to all, it was very unusual for the guards not to step in. They’d simply stood there, watching as Selina sidled closer to run those well manicured claws of hers along his arm. If nothing else was true, the guards at Arkham were thrilled for a chance to throw their weight around. Especially with him, he’d long since grown so familiar with the thud of knuckles against flesh he could name the guard blindfolded.
But they’d watched the two of them at the visitor’s table, Selina practically in his lap, exchanging gossip and did nothing. His luck just wasn’t that good, but Edward had been too willing to ignore it, another missed sign. Looking back on it he’d been willfully oblivious to what should have been red flags as her touch had gotten bolder and all they did was stare. Not that Selina’s wandering hand left many brain cells left to focus for the common man, but he just so happened to be extraordinary.
So why had he let the way she’d traced the curve of his ear distract him from the not so delicate sneeze that had escaped her? A well known response to only one thing, pollen from a certain plant goddess in Gotham. And yet he’d just offered the box of tissues on the table to her and continued talking as if that hadn’t been a flag so crimson Azrael could have used it for a cloak. Because after months in Arkham’s less than tender embrace he was enjoying the contact.
Idiot.
Not that his current situation was all that terrible, though his wrists ached from his continued attempt to pull them farther than the chain looped through the hook in the table allowed. Something she could easily rectify, if her hands weren’t currently engaged in attempting to make sure he looked as though he’d stuck something in an electric socket. Each yank at his hair was welcome though, feeling the jarring stop of his hands through his body as he tried to slide his hands where they desperately needed to be.
Edward knew that she was aware of the problem because every time the chain rattled she shivered, her hips rocking with a twist that had his fingers digging into the flesh he was able to reach. Sadist, he wanted to complain, but that would mean pulling back from the slippery back and forth that kept threatening to melt his spine. It took practice to kiss like this, surviving on quick gasps as the tips of her fingers pressed just hard enough to hold him in place.
He’d asked once what the point was, and she’d explained the way of depriving oxygen was nicer than a hand to the throat, created a subtle anxiety that heightened the experience. Of course that didn’t help him now, letting out a low groan of frustration as his hands were stymied again by cuff and chain. The amused chuckle that passed from her mouth to his was almost enough incentive to dislocate his thumb and pull his hand through.
“Say please.’
“Please, pretty kitty.’
It wasn’t as if the guards were paying attention anymore, he could give her the treat of his shamelessness, following her receding mouth with a soft cry of outrage. Her murmured I have to see what I’m working with did not appease him in the slightest, taking advantage of her sliding onto the table to squeeze as her backside slid over his palms. Both understandings of that sentence were untrue. Edward had seen Selina pick her way out of handcuffs while hung upside down and being repeatedly dunked in water. And as for the other? Well, they had their on and off again of someone needed a particular itch scratched.
“Again.’
How she could still function was beyond him. Though she hadn’t been run through the gambit that was Strange’s attempts to medicate her into a willing victi- patient. Curling his fingers over her thighs, he squeezed as he struggled to not simply dive between her parted thighs and the damp denim between. If he had his switchblade the pants would have long since stopped being a problem, managing to drag his gaze upwards as he repeated himself and watched something glint between her lips as her jaw shifted.
Considering how thorough the two of them had been, he felt surprise in dull ripples beneath the drowning rush of need that was making it harder and harder to breathe. Fingertips dug in as she pulled the thin strips of metal from her mouth and applied them holding his gaze. It was the attempt at nonchalant expression that pulled a smile from his lips, as if he weren’t able to see the rapid thud of her pulse like a trapped animal in her neck, of the third bead of swear rolled down her sternum to get lost beneath the low cut cropped sweater.
“I suppose asking you to keep your hands on the table is off the table, Eddie?’
“Correct.’
The shiver did delightful things to her for him, letting out a low appreciative sigh as his left wrist was released. But he would need both to wrangle her, reaching behind him to grab fabric and pull the shirt over his head. By the time he’d gotten it down his arm the right hand was free and he balled it haphazardly to shove beneath her as she lifted her hips. Later he could apologize for the way his nails scraped over her skin as he helped her work the tight pants off her hips and down her legs, if she cared.
Edward wasn’t entirely sure that she would, ducking beneath her lifted legs to press a kiss to the back of her thigh before working his way between them. If anyone else laughed at him the way she did he’d have killed them, but the genuine delight in her voice made it tolerable, as did feeling the way her muscles shifted as she squirmed trying to work the jeans off her ankles. The way she arched on the table as he yanked her hips tight to his didn’t hurt either, or the way his name was a shaky exhale as the bottom of her sweater slid higher up her ribs.
It wasn’t enough, grinding against her like some jock bedding his first cheerleader, but it helped soothe the ache, gave him just a bit of room to breathe as he rutted against her. She could be almost as detrimental as the drugs that corrupted the streets of Gotham, leaning in when her hands reached for him, eager for the way those fingers twined locks of hair and pulled. Never too hard, just enough to send pinprick sharp sparks skittering down his spine.
“Pants?’
At least he could have solace that her clever tongue was as hindered as his own, feeling one of her hands like water running down from the crown of his head, over his chest leaving trails of fire in its wake to push impatiently at the waistband. She was right, of course, but he was loathe to relinquish the feel of her slick skin and the way her body shifted. The feel of her ribs under his palm as they slid higher, the vibration of her heart racing.
Didn’t mind the dull ache of her heels digging in, attempting to force the degraded elastic band to slide lower. If anything it was an incentive, hips grinding against her as he unconsciously tried to move away from the unpleasant sensation.The noise that pulled from Selina’s throat almost did him in, barely managing to restrain himself, fumbling one handed with the front of his pants. Hard to do when neither of them seemed capable of realizing it would require separation, knees going weak when she whimpered as he pulled away finally.
He wasn’t so arrogant as to believe he was the only one capable of pulling that noise from her, but Edward knew it was a very small club. And he had the practice, dragging glans along slick flesh before pressing in with a snap of his hips. And another, and another, bullying his way in as the slick walls clenched around him. Was that an orgasm already? She’d be furious about that later, setting a punishing pace that set his teeth on edge.
-od evening, Arkham, mostly to my fellow inma-
The words drifted in one ear and out the other, leaving only torn fragments in their wake that made little sense. And it was nothing he wanted to hear, the sharp note at the end of Selina’s huffed exhales were important, the way she panted his name as her body coiled around him mattered. The sharp clap of their bodies meeting blotted out the rest, feeling places where her sweater had rubbed the skin raw as her teeth and lips left their mark along his neck and shoulder.
He was expending far too much concentration on simply holding skin and muscle between his teeth as he came and not biting into it like some sort of crazed animal. Not a fan of that, desperately trying to recapture even a shred of his beloved decorum that was in absolute tatters. But that was impossible when Selina’s fingers were stroking his hair, quiet praise for a job well done and coaxing at the same time.
“One more? Please, for me…’
And again, and again, until the purred words were ragged, his forehead pressed into the crook of her neck. He was a gentleman after all, and a gentleman always acquiesced to a lady’s polite request.
If you would like to request an x reader (doctor, nurse, orderly, guard, or fellow patient) and a rogue in this particular "verse" use my kofi the amounts are the same as my tip and can be found under the commission tab! Slots are limited
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A collection of one / two parters set in Arkham Asylum, and is generally a shameless excuse to write sex pollen fics but also comes with a fancy intro post can be found here.
This will be rogue ship specific, and not just the popular ones. I am an enjoyer of the crack ship and have also decided to let things get weird. But it's okay, what happens in Arkham, stays in Arkham. It's Gotham's Vegas!
The first post being riddlecat with Edward Nygma and Selina Kyle, and unholy fire (if they have a ship name I don't know it) with Joseph Blackfire and Garfield Lynns to kick things off!
If you are interested in an x reader for this "verse" please feel free to take advantage of my kofi commission page, they're priced lower than my base commission and are limited!
announcement post for the new event is set to go out tonight at midnight my time which if I remember correctly is CST. It'll also tell y'all the ships of the fics coming out at 9:30a and 12:30p, i'm hoping both are unexpected, but given the two in the very first one i don't think it's that surprising
i've got a commission to work on and a few more things I want to get some work done on but i was reminded that i need an overall writing tag which i have created and has been added to my pinned post as well
welcome back #tib!writes xD
i'm going to go mobile write for a bit and watch bear play AC:Odyssey as she's taking care of tartarus problems and i have peopled a lot today.
