Disclaimer: Everything in this story belongs to DC. I am not profiting off this in any way.

This is NOT second-person self-insertion, and therefore should not be against the TOS. I really should start writing in third-person again soon, though.

Edward Nigma is such a vulnerable man. True egotism, in the sense of the psychological disorder, is built on insecurity, and that certainly holds true for him; he is arrogant and wildly insecure and needy, and even after all this time he is still, somehow, too trusting.

Far too trusting, you reflect. He helps those who don't deserve it, though he'd be the first to admit that he does so for his own reasons. And yet… He still helps, occasionally having to rationalize to himself why later. He is never quite prepared to be betrayed. He opens himself up too easily to others—opens himself up to you of all people, talks to you and tells you so many things, and leans against you, eyes closed and breath shallow against your neck, completely relaxed.

You could break him. You can break all men, you know, and he would be easy. There are so many fears and insecurities in his mind; it wouldn't even be a matter of finding the right thread, the real challenge would be in choosing which one to pull. And it would all come unraveling—that mind of his, his spirit—he would fall apart completely. He was torn down once before, brought low, and you know that if it happens again… especially by your expert hands… he will not recover a second time.

Warm, slow breaths against you, no tension whatsoever in his form. You know he's not asleep, but you speak anyway, voice quiet and methodical.

"I could break you. I could completely tear you apart. I know so much about you now… It would hardly take any effort at all. I wouldn't even need to use fear gas. Just a few words, a few minutes…"

He stirs.

"You trust too easily, you know. You always have." You stroke a hand through his hair as he shifts slightly, the timbre of your voice unchanging, gesture idle. "I could betray you at any time. Ruin you. Destroy your spirit and the mind you hold so dear."

"You won't," he whispers, and places a hand on your cheek, turning your face towards his to kiss you. It's warm, and soft, and you close your eyes, feeling his fingers slide over your jaw to curl around the back of your neck. It only lasts a minute, then he pulls back, resting his forehead against your forehead and giving a quiet, satisfied hum.

"I could break you," you repeat softly. You don't open your eyes, or pull away.

"You won't."