#Edward nygma x reader smut

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘WILDFLOWER AND BARLEY,

-GOTHAM!EDWARD NYGMA X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; Sometimes you don’t think you deserve him….other times, you think it’s for the best that you stay.

⋆ tags/warnings. GOTHAM!riddler x female reader. SMUT AND ANGST!! reader is toxic, but eddie is too, so its ok. eddy being vanilla but also strangely dominant. guys this fic is FILTHY. also,, part 3 to gotham characters eating you out. takes place with like season 2 eddy, post kringle. Did i write a fic inspired by a Hozier song that isn’t even released yet? yes. readers taking advantage of eddy. but also, eddy is more than willing to give. kind of a character study. im so sorry if i made reader too mean ive had this idea for a week😭

fic requested by @clementine-writes-things <3

♫ “My coffee black in my bed at 3 / You’re too sweet for me. You’re too sweet for me.” Wildflower and Barley by Hozier

You’d fucked up, majorly.

God, what were you thinking?

Edward Nygma, the quirky forensics guy. The loon, as your fellow officers eloquently put it. And you didn’t necessarily disagree. He was certainly a peculiar fellow. He had always a thing for…what was her name? Kristen Kringle. That was it. You’d been working with him for years, watching him moon after her. You could…understand the appeal, you guessed. She had a sexy sixties librarian type of thing going for her. She kept to herself. Maybe you should’ve done the same. She’d dissapeared a few weeks ago.

You somehow landed yourself in the bed of Edward Nygma. You’d been hooking up…For the past two weeks in a row. No judgement, yeah?

It started as a joke. You and the other officers, chatting with beers and obnoxious comments towards the other tools in the GCPD. Jim Gordon…Harvey Bullock. The way the men couldn’t seem to keep their mouthes shut, especially Jim.

Well, you’d gotten plenty tipsy, staying after work. You pummled those beers back like it was your last night alive. And hell, living in gotham? As an officer? It very well could be.

They were all drunk and laughing out of their minds. Anything anyone said seemed overly funny. Especially when one of your fellow cops brought up the name, “Nygma” like the name was it’s own disease.

“You think Y/N could sleep with him?”

“Yeah, Y/N, go fuck the loon. I wonder what it’s like.”

“You think he says riddles when hes cumming?”

“Whats long, hard, and has ‘cum’ in the middle?”

The numerous voices of your “friends” rung out, and in the moment, drunk out if your mind, you too thought it was the funniest thing in the world.

“I could do it.” You affirmed, alcohol giving you the liquid courage you wouldn’t typically have. After the “oooooo”ing from some of your coworkers, you decided, fuck it. Edward was tall, had nice cheekbones, and was smart. You could do worse than a one night stand.

So you confidently marched into that forensics room, high on the dare the other cops had given you.

You found him, looking into one of the forensics mirrors. He was muttering to himself and you snorted. Weirdo. Oh well.

He pushed up his glasses when you two made eye contact. He was sweating, for some reason, in that lanky labcoat and rubber-gloved hands. He stood up straight and went rigid when he saw you.

“Ms. L/N-“ He was about to question, when you rammed your lips onto his. You remember it like yesterday- how hesitant he was. The way he parted for air, breathing wildly at you. He kept trying to ask questions the whole time you were eagerly undressing him. But he didn’t seem to mind your fowardness.

Well, just your luck, that one night stand was the best fuck of your life. The way his cock fitted perfectly into your body, like it was made for your cunt alone. You two fucked on the forensics cabinets, your coworkers in the next room over, and it was exhilarating. Especially when the usually reserved Ed got unusually rough, pulling your hair and smacking your ass just right.

By the time you two were done…you were fucked out of your mind. Pleasantly surprised.

Since then, you hadn’t been able to get away. You told the cops it was vanilla, and reveled in their dismay. But…you came back for seconds. And then thirds. And then fourths. And then you couldn’t remember the last time you woke up in your own bed.

And just as if you were Kristen…he started following you. Your coworkers snickered. You’d see homemade cupcakes left on your desk. You’d catch him staring at you from the other side of the precint. You writhed under his gaze. For a man with not much expirence, he was obnoxiously good at sex. And he was even more obnoxiously good at not understanding the meaning of coworkers with benefits, and not a relationship.

But…mornings like these? You can’t complain.

Taking yourself back to the present, you awoke in his bed. The sunlight of the open windows bled through your eyelids, and you felt yourself smack your lips. You blinked yourself awake, same as you always did. You shifted underneath the covers, which had been neatly adjusted over you. It was infuriatingly comfortable. You let a yawn escape your lips.

“Ah, good! You’re awake!” You heard his voice chime, far off in the kitchen. You looked up, seeing his tall frame. He stared at you adoringly, and you felt your heart pang.

He carried a tray of coffee and breakfast. You sat up. It was the usual morning routine. He made the most exquisite breakfasts for you.

“A necessity to some, a treasure to many. I’m best enjoyed among pleasant company. Some like me hot, some like me cold. Some prefer me mild, others prefer me bold. What am I?” He spoke the riddle quickly.

You blinked at him, tired. You shrugged nonchalantly.

He made his way over to you, swiftly and delicatley placing the tray in your lap.

“Coffee.” He looked a bit dissapointed at your lack of answer, but brightened back up instantly. “Almost black, not quite. 1 Sugar. No cream. Just how you like it.” He noted, and it was in this moment, you felt the weight of your actions. He’d memorized everything about you. Whatever records you liked, he’d play softly. He’d learned your favorite flavor cupcake, and how you took your coffee. Gods, he’d even bought the brand of toothpaste you had at your house, so it was familiar brushing your teeth in the morning.

You squinted, adjusting yourself to the sunlight of the room. Golden. You felt the weight of the tray, and met his gaze. God, it was intense. The way his big, puppy dog like eyes harrowed in on you. Like you were the world.

He was practically wagging his tail, watching you take a slow sip of coffee. He wanted praise, as though perfected it, finally.

He was too sweet for you. You didn’t deserve any of this. But selfishly…you couldn’t resist.

You gave him a small nod in approval, letting the liquid glide down your throat. Damn it, The coffee was perfect.

He positioned himself next to you on the bed, sitting, legs crossed. He looked at you almost creepily, eyes never leaving as you finished your breakfast and coffee. You didn’t say a word to him, but you did listen to him ramble quite a bit. Every now and then he’d ask a casual question, and you’d stay silent, or give him a one worded answer. You’d see his smile falter, but he’d continue.

When you were done, he’d grab the tray from your hands. You let him do the work for you. You liked his bed. He came back, eyes big and bright. He sat once more, looking at you expectantly. You furrowed your brows.

“…What?”

He shrugged, giving a slightly nervous, manic giggle. You cringed a bit, but faltered when you felt his fingertips glide across your thigh.

Oh. Thats what.

“…We have work in an hour.” You replied. The mantra played in your head. You don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve him. You felt guilty.

“I’ll be quick.” He affirmed, peeling the covers back. Oh, fuck it. Who were you to deny him?

He didn’t lie, he was fast. The covers exposed your skin, still undressed from the previous night. You felt the cool air on your thighs and pussy, and couldn’t help it. You caved.

In an instant, he was worshipping your legs, working his way up. He kept eye contact with you, laying gentle bites and pecks into the plush of your skin.

He kissed his way up, tonguing the bite marks he left in his wake. You shivered when his lips hovered over your pussy. He wasted no time. No, he didn’t tease you, he needed to please you as quickly as he could. It was a need for him.

His tongue came into contact with your pussy lips, and you shivered. Instinctivley, you threaded your hands through his morning messy hair, and shoved his face into you. He reciprocated instantly, wanting nothing more than to make you feel good. He licked up and down, tongue flicking gently on your cute little pearl of a clit.

He circles it and taps it with his tongue, saliva dripping and mixing with your juices. His movements are quick and calculated, and he indulges you, body and soul. He hums in pleasure when you arch your back up into him uncontrollably. It’s almost uncharacteristic- the way he switches from being so soft and gentle, to practically making out with your pussy. You feel his fingers dig into your thighs, like he’s a whole different person when he’s mouth fucking you.

Your moaning and shaking, saying his name over and over. Somehow, your getting off to this. To the idea you don’t deserve him. That he’s such a nicer, better, smarter person than you. And although he doesn’t vocalize it, you wonder if he strangely shares the sentiment.

It’s almost like he knows. Like he’s self-aware- of all your selfish thoughts. Like this, him eating you out, him on his knees for you, making you breakfast in bed- is some sort of revenge.

He knows what he’s doing. He’s making you feel awful, guilty for your mistreatment of him- by giving you more and more of him. And you find yourself cumming in his mouth at the thought.

He greedily laps at your swollen clit, overstimulating you. You let out a loud yelp, and he keeps going, only for a few more seconds.

It’s weird. He’s weird. But as you sober up from your orgasm, shaking underneath him, you brush those strange thoughts from your head.

You look into his gentle eyes again, watching him ramble off apologies. You two will most definitely be late to work. You scold yourself. Why would you think such an odd thing? No, he’s a complete sweetheart. Not a degrading bone in his body. You think.

Yet…you still feel the bruises forming on your thighs. And the burning guilt of using him.

You left his aparment in a hurry, driving yourself insane. You seem to convice yourself it was a weird orgasm thought, maybe you’re more kinky than you thought; for some pseudo pyschological self degradtion.

You go to the precint, just as you do every other day. The work is effectively still just as boring and your peers are still just as insufferable.

You’re given a few files by some mysoginistic cop you haven’t aquainted yourself with, who obviously assumed you were the new record keeper. You snort, but decide to take it. You browse over the files, snooping. They are forensic files, and your heart drops. Ah. You’ll have to give these to him.

You enter the forensic room without knocking- at least, you’re about to. But you hear him mumbling to himself, and decide to listen in for a moment. Curiosity getting the best of you.

“You’re too good to her.” You hear him argue with…himself? “You need to show her whose in charge.”

“I am!” He retaliates to his own voice.

“By making her coffee?” He snarls, and your brows furrow. He smashes a file cabinet closed loudly. You jump.

“Yes!” Ed’s voice growls out, fed up. “If you were smart enough to understand-“ He begins, and you’ve heard enough. You enter the room.

Ed looks at you bewildered, and you look at the same. He’s sweating, and his hair is in dissaray. You two make eyecontact and you grimace. What the hell?

You hardly register what he was actually saying, and more that he was having a seemingly very heated conversation with himself. You watch him fumble with his glasses.

“…Ed?” You question, and he snaps.

“What are you doing here?” His voice is quick and sharp. Thats uncharacteristic. You wince.

“Uh, files.” You nod to the papers in your hands, and he blinks, standing up straight. He clears his throat.

“Right.” He recovers, quickly. You narrow your eyes at him, and hum, giving them to him. He’s about to speak, but you rush yourself out of the room, heart pounding.

He is weird. He is a freak. You chime. Your coworkers have been right.

Any shred of pity you had for him has dwindled significantly, and you mull it over in your mind.

Maybe you do deserve eachother, You think. You’re the best he’s going to get.

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Handling it Riddler x fem reader smut

(Keepin the riddler pretty vague for this. Keeps hat and orange hair though)

Tw: male masterbation, pining after a friend, controlled orgasm??? You’ll see. A bit of a surprise, worries of delusions

@letstalkaboutfandomsbaby I remembered you’d liked this.

“The first time you make me you’re young. The next time you make me is in a public place. You lose me over time but you will stay with me and others forever. What am I?”

He remembered those eyes scanning over his face. Beautiful eyes looking for clues to the riddle.

He’d made it especially for you: at least he thought. He figured he could be a bit unimaginative at times. So he sighed as he sat at his dark table. Tapping his white pen against the blue graphed sheets pinned to his desk. He couldn’t get you out of his head. He’d gone off the radar and out of everyone’s hair for months now. Almost a year, so why couldn’t he shake you?

He could shake the first friend he’d made. The attorney that sought him out like he was the guys own daughter. Evaded the mad scientist who thought she could track him through plant traces.

Why could he abandon all of them but not you!

What made you so special: why did you stay in his head when he could kill off the memories of the rest?!

It was the way you acted. The way you smiled and listened harder than all else. Called him funny when he tried to be, and called him a genius for his accomplishments. Unlike others he knew you were real, you gave him undivided attention.

No one had ever done that before.

You were a grounding force to a man filled with helium and he craved that pull when he felt he was getting too close to popping. But you weren’t here were you? No no. You were safe and looked after in your pretty little apartment. True Edward went to check on you once in a while. Always in a clever disguise. Inconspicuous, unknown. You were safe from how he acted.

And still he wasn’t safe… from you.

Your influence kept him stable, from dying sure: he imagined your help as he got his cheap ass pizza bagels from the oven. He imagined you telling him to take a shower. And get some rest. And- and.

He knew he shouldn’t have but he imagined your help as he masturbated.

“Oh Eddie I dunno~” you claimed in a sing-song voice. “Is it a memory?” Ed shook his head and you tilted your head in confusion. “Then what is it.”

Ed tilted his head back as he leaned in his chair. He closed his eyes, not bothering to do his work right now. Pens discarded he worked on himself. Slowly he massaged a hand over his pants. Working on the bulge that grew there. He groaned desperately. Trying to clear the fog from that brilliant mind.

It was your hand wrapped around his own when you went to the ice cream shop. “They call this a super man but they’ve only got blue and yellow! Superman’s got plenty of Red on him.” Edward ranted to you as he shook his finger at the cone he got. “And it just tastes like vanilla. You'd think with technology these days that you could make an uncanny taste to the actual Superman.” You laughed and leaned in close. “Can I have a taste?” You said it so sweetly. Eddie thought you’d take a spoonful of it and go but he got a lick in the same time you decided.

His tongue stayed there as you licked a line up. He was dumbfounded, his tongue stuck out like a dog from an old cartoon character. You just laughed. “You’re right! Plain old vanilla. It’s funny how you explained it Ed- oh goodness. Eddie, your face!” You giggled as you saw his expression. “Do you wanna bite of mine?” He lowered his cone. “S-sure.” You scooped yours up. “It’s supposed to be orange cheesecake, tell me what you think!” Before Ed could take the spoon from you you fed him.

He smiled as he swiped his thumb over his tip. The color reminded him of vanilla. He wished he didn’t have to imagine that you were there licking it up. He grasped the base firmly and pulled up. The feeling sent shivers down his spine. He hissed through his teeth and he could feel something at his side though he wasn’t sure whether or not it was real. What he was sure of is that it felt like you. So he rolled with it.

“What you doin’ sweetie?” It was your voice whispering in his ear. “You thinkin’ of me?” He nodded, pumping himself a bit faster now, long strokes be damned.

Your voice chuckled at him, “Really, What are you thinking of doing to me Ed? You can tell me, you can always tell your best friend.” He gulped, trying to gain his wits again as he spoke. “I'm just admiring your personality. So kind you’re driving me-“ his hips stuttered like he was about to give in but he stalled them, “I don’t like the word but you’re driving me insane.” Your voice cooed back as he gripped the edge of his seat with his other hand. “Insane hmm? Tell me what you wanna do to me. You wanna put your cock on my tongue maybe? Stick it down my throat till I can’t see through my tears-“

Ed felt sweat trail down his neck and catch on the orange hair at the base. He felt fingers walk across his shoulder blades and switch position to hover over his neck. “- And cum. Down my pretty little pipes.” Ed howled in pleasure, feeling the warm butterflies of an impending orgasm well in his belly.

“Yes! Yes please. Please I can’t fathom life without you, it's ridiculous. I wanna pleasure you. I want to make you feel like a goddess I- just fuck I need to cum. Please?” His eyes swam with tears of his own and he heard the slick sounds his own cock was giving. “Okay baby. Cum.”

With that he could barely hold back, just a few more pumps and ropes shot out of his cock. Spreading across his new pants and all. It would’ve sent him into a pissy mood if his world wasn’t just rocked with his delusions.

His mind clouded and he searched for his clock for the time. 8:55pm. Close to the time he usually was already in bed. He groaned and made an attempt to move but found it was an action between a Herculean task and an impossibility. His eyes were fuzzy and seemed like they’d never been used before. He couldn’t even see the blur of colors that kneeled before him. He whined a bit when something touched his junk. His head flopped down in a lukewarm attempt at care.

“Shh Shh. It’s okay, I’ll clean this up for you Eddie.” He felt something hot press against him and he knew it wasn’t his imagination. Fuck his impressive sleep schedule, fuck his seclusion. If he’d known this was going to happen he would’ve drank some coffee.

“Just go to bed Eddie, I've got this.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair and relaxing. After all, how could anyone say no to you?

[capr1pengu1n]

You're bleeding magic out somehow

Summary: Basically Edward shares you with Harley, pure porn guys. Warnings: smut 18+, threesome (everyone is bisexual lmao), fingering (reader receiving), cunnilingus (reader giving), praise and degradation, dom! Edward and dom! Harley (switch Harley if you squint), rough sex, one slap, leather glove kink (sorry) Words: 3.1k ----------------------------------------------------

“I told you, she’s a doll isn’t she?”

You didn’t have to look at Edward to know he was smirking as he spoke, the selfish pride in his voice palpable as he presents you like one of his trophies. You’d been together for a while, and you thought he would have kept your relationship a secret from the malevolent underworld he operates in, and perhaps he had for the most part.

“You really weren’t kiddin’” came the other voice in the room, and your eyes dart from the floor to finally take in the unexpected guest. Harley. “How in the hell did ya manage that, Eddie?”

Edward lets out a scoff, his gloved hand squeezing at the side of your waist. “Oh please, she’s dating the unchallenged mastermind of Gotham City, I’d say she was the lucky one.”

Harley didn’t seem to be paying attention to his self-aggrandizing words, instead her eyes were firmly on you. She stepped closer a little, her head tilting and causing some wispy strands of blonde hair to fall across her face. You certainly hadn’t expected anyone else to be here when Edward had texted you the location of whatever warehouse he was scheming in; you figured he wanted you to help him blow off some steam, so being confronted with the Harley Quinn when you entered was certainly a rush.

“You really are a pretty one ain’t ya?” she says with a giggle, reaching out and tilting your chin up slightly. Her heeled boots meant she could look down on you a little, and it causes the heat to burn in your cheeks.

“Harley just complimented you darling, I hope you haven’t forgotten your manners.” Edward says condescendingly, causing you to quickly thank her for her kindness.

“Awe, how well trained,” she smirked, the way they both were talking to you was clearly having an effect; both a knot in your stomach and a growing heat between your legs. “You like girls, sugar?”

Edward laughed softly at her comment, and your eyes widened a little before nodding your head.

“Perfect,” she almost purrs, before suddenly walking past you both like she hadn’t reduced you to a flustered mess with little to no effort. “You know, you could really do with some couches in here Eddie, there ain’t nowhere comfy.”

“There’s a desk and a chair, what else do I need when I’m navigating problems you couldn’t possibly hope to understand- “

“Well, I guess that’ll have to do” she cuts him off, causing Edward’s jaw to clench a little. You couldn’t suppress the little smile that played on your lips at their interactions. “Get over here dollface.”

It took you a moment to realise she was talking to you, and with a nod of Edward’s head in approval you walk over to his desk, standing in front of Harley. She hums a little as she looks over you again, her hand softly tracing your hip almost absentmindedly.

“As soon as Eddie told me he had you all to himself, I did get a little jealous” she says with another giggle, her hand rising from your hip to your waist. “And I’d love to have a little fun with ya, but if you don’t wanna, you tell me now. Understood?”

Her tone had become more serious, and you understood she was clearly seeking your consent. To describe the scenario as a dream come true would be an understatement, so you didn’t hesitate to tell her you wanted it.

“Don’t think she’ll have free reign over you though” Edward’s voice cuts through the tension between you and Harley, as he comes up behind you and leans near your ear, “I’ll make sure you don’t forget who you really belong to.”

He pushes you forward a little, causing you to stumble against Harley, your chests practically pressed against each other. You could smell the sickly-sweet perfume on her as she captures your lips in a kiss. It was like she was trying her best to start slow, but she just couldn’t resist running her tongue over your bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from you. Taking this opportunity of weakness, Edward’s hand firmly grabs at your hips as he trails kisses along your neck and towards your shoulder. Trying your best to stay still and not shiver, you do your best to match Harley’s intensity as you hold on to the tops of her arms. However, it was like the wind had been knocked out of you when you felt your skirt move and a hand cup your clothed cunt.

“Harleen,” Edward mumbles a little harshly against your neck, “Do you truly have so little patience?”

Harley just laughs softly, giving you a soft slap on your clit before pulling her hand away and holding both up in a mock surrender. “Can ya blame me? She’s just gorgeous.”

“I suppose you have a point,” he says, “I’m guessing she was already wet?”

“Soaked.”

“What a needy girl.”

The way they spoke like you weren’t even there, embarrassingly causes you to have to bite your lip to hold in a whimper, your thighs pressed tight together.

“Come on Eddie, the poor thing is dyin’ on us.” she laughs, almost mocking. You turn slightly to look up at Edward, hoping the pleading in your eyes will convince him to move more at Harley’s pace. He scoffs, but you can see the trace of a smirk on his lips.

“Alright, only because a guest is here. I can’t have you getting spoilt now, can I?” and with a smack on your ass, he instructs you to sit on the desk. You watch as he whispers something to Harley, before she nods and stands between your legs. Her hands move up your thighs, excitement bubbling in your chest before she swiftly digs her nails in and drags them, enough to leave a mark. You gasp, hands gripping the edge of the desk at the sudden sting.

“So ya have something to remember me by.” She says teasingly, before hooking her fingers under your panties and pulling them down roughly. Red and black painted nails smooth over the marks on your thighs, before flipping your skirt to ensure you were fully on display to the two pairs of eyes that were on you.

“So pretty…” she whispers softly, before bringing her hand up and gently starting to circle your clit. At the same time, Edward moves to stand next to Harley, your right thigh separating the two criminals. He tugs your shirt up, exposing your bra and roughly groping your chest; quite the contrast to Harley’s more gentle ministrations.

As her fingers move a little faster against your throbbing clit, she makes the remark “you ain’t even taken off your gloves” to Edward. He meets your eyes and smirks before he replies.

“Oh trust me my dear, she likes it. Watch.”

He brings his hand up to your chin, holding it for a moment before pressing his thumb into your mouth. The feeling of the leather in your mouth makes you moan softly, sucking like the obedient girl you were for him. You heard Harley laugh, as Edward forced his thumb in deeper, before pulling it out and giving your cheek a gentle slap.

Not being given much time to react, you felt Harley’s finger against your entrance before she plunged it in roughly. On instinct your thighs move to close, before she uses her other hand to yank them apart again and snap “stay”. Before you can truly register the pleasure, she has two fingers deep inside you, setting a rough but steady pace. As your noises grow more frequent, Edward’s hand comes to rest on your throat, not yet squeezing. The sloppy sounds of your wet cunt were loud and cause your face to flush, your eyes darting away to instead look at the two super-villains watching you fall apart for them; Edward’s eyes laser focused on Harley’s fingers going in and out of you, and it makes you whimper at the sight. His eyes snap up to yours, before he leans in to kiss you.

“Enjoying yourself? I suppose someone like you was made to be the centre of attention,” he taunts against your lips, reveling in the pitiful nod you give him. He tightens his grip on your neck, causing a shaky gasp and your cunt to tighten.

“Damn, she got tight when you choked her. Do it again,” Harley ordered, a wicked smile on her face.

“I don’t take orders from you.” Edward mutters in a prideful manner, but he couldn’t resist tightening his grip again. A satisfied grin was plastered on his face when you elicit the same response, your knuckles going white as you grip the desk for what felt like your life.

“Awe, ain’t you such a little whore.” Harley taunts in an excited manner; she truly looks like the kitten whose got the cream as she makes you writhe and moan at her touch. She starts to curl her fingers inside you, getting you more worked up as your hips attempt to buck up with each thrust. Your eyes are drawn away from Harley to Edward as you notice how invested he is in the sight in front of him. As much as he’s trying to hide it, he’s clearly affected by the sight of Harley finger-fucking his girlfriend on his desk, his bulge straining against his suit trousers. With a shaky sigh, you meet his eyes, and he knows you’re getting close.

“You want to cum?” he asks, moving his hand from your throat to toy with your clit, Harley’s rough pace never slowing as you pathetically babble that you need to. “Well, I suppose you should beg Harley, shouldn’t you? And make sure you’re polite.”

You immediately start begging, looking at Harley through watery eyes as you do your best to convince her of your desperation. A smirk plays on her lips as she watches you intensely.

“Awe sugar, you got the cutest lil’ voice when you beg” she says in a saccharine sweet tone, “I don’t know if I believe ya.”

You whine. Loudly. “Please Harley I-I’ll do anything please I just…need to cum, please.”

“Anything?” she growls out, and somehow manages to thrust her fingers faster. She laughs in your face as you nod, “I’ll be nice to ya, cum on my fingers then.”

As she gives you permission, Edward circles your clit faster, causing you to cry out and cum all over her hand. You feel your hair stick to your face as your chest heaves, Harley’s fingers leaving your pussy with an embarrassingly wet noise. She immediately brings her fingers to her mouth, sucking them in a lewd manner and winking.

“Delicious.”

Edward’s gaze lingers on the show for a little bit too long, before he looks back at you.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, so dirty” he patronises, running his hand over the wetness of your inner thigh, tracing the nail marks Harley left with his index finger, “I hardly think it’s fair that you get to have all of the fun, hm?”

You nod obediently, eager to please them both which delights Edward’s possessiveness.

“You could fuck her here Eddie,” Harley begins, tapping your oversensitive clit, “while I get to fuck her mouth. Whatcha think?”

“Perfect, are you alright with that darling?” he asks you, and once you give consent he tugs you off the desk and gives you a grin, “Right, you bend over. Harley, get comfortable.”

As you do as he says, you can feel butterflies in your stomach at the excitement. You and Edward have done some very kinky things, but to get to partake in a threesome with, in your humble opinion, the hottest and most dangerous woman you think you’ve ever seen was making your breath heavy and your skin hot. Bending over the desk, you watch in awe as Harley jumps up on the desk and slides her black and red shorts down her legs, leaving her thigh high socks on. Your eyes are glued to her body, and you even hear Edward mutter a laboured “christ…” as she puts on a show of taking her underwear off.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” She teases with a wink, before sitting and getting comfortable with her cunt right in front of your face. You push your head forward, before she presses her fingers to your forehead, holding you back and making you let out an involuntary whine.

“Not until he’s inside ya sugar, you alright back there Eddie? Something distracting ya from fucking your little doll?”

You hear him grumble some variation of “shut up”, and you bite your lip to suppress the giggle bubbling up in you at the sound of him flustered. All thoughts vanish from your head though when you feel him press against you, rubbing up and down and catching on your clit. You try and grind backwards, leading him to slap your ass harshly.

“I’m in control, remember?” he says harshly, and due to the circumstances it’s hard to tell who he’s actually speaking to. Finally, he sinks into you slowly, letting you savour every inch as you gasp and keen beneath him. Once he’s inside you, he pulls back and slams back into you, causing you to lurch forward and luckily this time, Harley lets you start to lick at her pussy. You arch your back a little as he starts to set the pace, at the same time that Harley tangles a hand in your hair. Eyes closing, you can barely handle the sensations that are wracking through your body with each snap of his hips, each tug of your hair to guide your tongue to where she needs you.

The blonde’s voice sounds angelic to your ears, her moans getting higher whenever you drag your tongue a certain way. You try your best to maintain a good rhythm, but it’s hard when your being fucked in just the right way by your criminal boyfriend. Feeling his fingers digging in to your hips, you realise he’s taken his gloves off; opting to reach under your skirt to bruise you with how tight he’s holding on. Sucking her clit softly, you’re graced with another high-pitched moan from Harley, her grip on your hair tight.

“Fuck…you’re just perfect ain’t ya?” she slurs out, bucking her hips into your face. All you can do is moan softly into her cunt, resting your hands on her thighs to stabilise yourself.

“Made for this, weren’t you? Being used like a toy by two criminals.” Edward grunted, moving his hand to knead the soft skin of your ass. You nod as best you can against Harley cunt and let out a soft noise of embarrassment at his words, gripping her thighs a little tighter almost as your small revenge for her marking you earlier. She doesn’t seem to mind, still whining at the movement of your tongue.

“How cute, you like that baby? Gotham’s best and baddest fuckin’ ya dumb?”

“Of course she does, look at her. How pathetic.”

Fuck you can barely breathe with how turned on you are, their taunts somehow making you even wetter and your eyes to roll back even more. Time seems to be an illusion you can’t process, how long had they been fucking you?

“Such a filthy girl.”

You’re barely sure you can even register which of them just said that, your brains leaking out of your ears. Snapping partly back to reality, Harley pushes you further against her as her whimpers get more breathy. You can tell she’s getting close, so you try your best to maintain the rhythm of your tongue, wanting nothing more than for her to finish.

“Just like that sugar…gonna make me cum, yeah?” she manages to stutter out, her grip in your hair brutal, not that you mind. You could only imagine that you’d heard a chorus of angel’s singing from heaven when Harley cums all over your face, her voice desperate and powerful and stunning. Lapping up her cum as best as you could, she finally releases you, your face now half against the desk as you were still getting railed.

“I suppose you deserve a reward then, for making Harley feel good hm? Do you want the…fuck…the privilege of me finishing inside of you?” he growls at you, grabbing your hand and shoving it between your legs, “Tell me. Tell me how much you need the riddler to cum inside you.”

The combination of being allowed to touch yourself, Edward’s brutal pace and Harley looking down at you was proving to be too much. You stutter out how much you need him, how grateful you were, all the things that stroked his already inflated ego as his thrusts seem to go even deeper. You feel that you’re on a knife edge, so close to cumming you can almost taste it. With a glance up at Harley, her soft features smile at you as she strokes your flushed cheek.

“Go on sugar, you can do it. Cum.”

Her gentle words send you over the edge, crying out as tears form in your eyes. The pleasure is overwhelming, Edward’s pace not slowing until he suddenly stops, and you feel him finish inside you with a groan. The strong intakes of breath aren’t enough, as you feel the world dissolving around you before Harley gets off the desk and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“Well done baby, you were amazing.”

“You know, I didn’t actually give her permission to cum.” Edward grumbles as he pulls out, fixing his trousers. Harley just rolls her eyes playfully.

“He always this grouchy after fucking the life out of ya?”

“Don’t answer that.” He snaps, but when you turn to look at him, a small smile traces his features. Shifting uncomfortably, you precariously stand back up, feeling his cum start to leak out of you. Harley quickly grabs your underwear and helps you back into them, giving you a comedically big kiss on the cheek.

“Gotta say I’ve had a blast, you two gonna let me join in again sometime?” she asks cheekily.

“Maybe,” Edward says with a smirk, “and maybe we can work on that attitude of yours Harleen.”

She just laughs loudly, flicking Edward’s nose, and if you could have paid all the money in the world for a picture of his face at that moment, you would have.

“Yeah right. I think I’ll just stick to ruining your girl.” She teases with a wink, before getting dressed. As Edward pulls you against him and asks softly if you’re alright, you can’t help but blush and wonder about this new dynamic that seems to be unfolding. Safe to say, Harley was going to be keeping your relationship much more interesting, and you couldn’t be happier.

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thank you for reading my incredibly self indulgent smut fic lol x

[finniestoncrane]

Almost There

Capullo!Riddler x Fem!Reader, word count: 4k commission: eddie desperately trying to get someone to like him, but failing a bit miserably before he starts succeeding, as he was always bound to 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: whiny/desperate eddie, teensy bit of angst

With a sigh of resignation, Eddie looked out of his window on to the streets of Gotham below. People, like ants, below the feet of a God they didn’t even know they worshipped yet. But he could take very little joy in that usually comforting fact, as he knew there was one ant of great subordination who refused to bend to his will. And that was despite knowing everything he could offer them in exchange for their undying and unquestioning devotion.

No amount of anything he had would fix this situation. This was him now. He was stuck. Edward Nygma. Stuck. Stuck on a puzzle, on a question, on a task, for which there seemed to be no possible outcome for. Or at least, not one that he deemed reasonable, not one that he would be happy with. Which, after all, in the mind of the Riddler, was not the correct answer at all.

The phone he clutched in his hand was quickly tossed onto the nearest surface. It was just a hopeless distraction at this point. A symbol of futility. Of his seeming failure.

Eddie’s fingers were getting tangled in his fringe. The greasy strands of his usually neatly swept back shock of red hair were getting caught as he twisted and pulled at them. Teasing at them nervously, he paced around his pre-furnished, and entirely impersonal, apartment. Looking at the extravagant wall clock he sighed and groaned, letting it form a soft growl as he ripped a few extra strands of his hair out in his closed and trembling fists. He was thankful for the thick, soundproof walls in this building. It meant he could talk, or groan, or yell, to himself as loudly as he wanted without fear of anyone hearing his plans. Or his pathetic whining.

“How long does it take someone to answer a text? Is she really that stupid? And if she’s that dull and so incapable of typing a message out, do I really want to be associated with her?”

His self-serving insults regarding your intelligence only helped to make him feel worse about himself. You were perfect. Beautiful, but in a way he’d never really seen before. Interesting, more so than any other woman he’d bothered giving the time of day or willingly chose to get to know. And you weren’t stupid. In fact, you seemed scarily competent and able to hold your own against him. Which he hated.

Another thirty seconds of anxious pacing, as he wondered what could possibly keep someone busy for this long. It wasn’t as if you could have anything important to do. Or anything more important than responding to his message. You weren’t him, after all. He was the busy one, the important one, the mastermind genius that had barely had time to focus on anything but himself. What could possibly be distracting you?

With a finger raised almost comically in the air, one floating light bulb short of looking like a caricature, Eddie shouted out.

“Unless! Unless… she’s really not as stupid as I thought. And… all this… is a clever ploy! Oh! Oh-ho-ho! That is… well, that’s frankly almost brilliant. I hate to admit it, but credit where credit is due, I suppose.”

He picked up his phone from where he had tossed it, laying on the polished marble surface of the sideboard he hated so much but refused to give up, as he’d been assured by the realtor that it was something a woman would appreciate. And of course “a handsome bachelor such as himself would definitely be looking to entice a woman”. He was glad that realtor was dead.

Gripping the soft velvet on the back of the sofa, he leapt over it, landing with a thud with his legs up on the cushions, head leaning back on the soft pillows as his red hair spread messily behind him. And he held his phone steadily in his hands, trying hard to exude confidence, even falsified, just to give himself something to cling to.

Behind him, the large, floor to ceiling windows gave view of the sunset, which was slowly stealing the remaining light from Gotham and sinking it once again into complete, dangerous darkness. And as that beautiful sight disappeared, wasted entirely on Eddie, he typed a quick message out, one that he felt sounded casual, despite it being agonised over in his hyperactive mind.

“Hey, you get my text? Maybe you missed it. Maybe you missed it on purpose. I’m on to you, baby ;)”

He paused for a moment, reading over the words on the screen with a twisted expression of disgust.

“Hm… maybe not baby… at least not yet.”

Deleting the final word, he read the text again. And then again. And then once more, before he decided to delete the whole thing. Throwing his phone to the floor with an exasperated grunt, he realised that you might have been watching his little ellipses, the telling dots that screamed “HERE COMES EDDIE! TYPING ANOTHER MESSAGE! LOOK HOW DESPERATE HE IS!”

Up until recently, everything had been going exactly his way. He’d scammed his bosses, embezzled expertly from the company that owed him everything and had until that point given him nothing, and bought himself a luxurious and ridiculous apartment that he had wild dreams of turning into a bachelor pad, with endless parties that revitalised every night with new guests and new drinks and new experiences. Money hadn’t quite been enough to buy him the necessary friends or women, however. Although, when he thought about it, technically his money had bought him the company of several pleasant enough women. But it felt like an offence to him that he had to pay for their services, to beg, essentially, for their affections, and then had to add on an extra few if he wanted to have them pretend to listen to him as he talked to them. By his calculations, women should have been falling for him. They should have been paying him for the opportunity to be talked at. He was Edward Nygma! He was intelligent, he was handsome, and now, he was wealthy.

Realistically, there was an obvious solution here. And an easy one at that. He could go out, flash some cash, and find the first suitably pretty girl who reacted positively to his shtick or his flaunted wealth and take her home. But that routine had gotten old, it felt like those cheap sudoku puzzle books you could buy at the corner store. Easy, too easy. Though he might be loathe to admit that to anyone, given that he felt it was part of his reputation, his lore, his borderline misogynistic use of woman as a status symbol as an essential aspect of his character by this point. In his illusions of grandeur, and his misinformed concept that everyone knew who he was, he felt like everyone knew that about him, this staple of his personality, especially the girls at the clubs he frequented when his loneliness became intolerable. What Eddie wanted in a woman reflected his desires for the entirety of Gotham, and eventually the world. He wanted immediate adoration with nothing in return. An endless willingness to please him. And key, above all: subservience. Complete and utter subservience.

So why was he all of the sudden chasing someone who refused to give him the time of day? Who couldn’t even reply to a text with due diligence? He mused out loud, pondering this interesting conundrum, before he spoke his assumed answer.

“The… challenge? Maybe?”

As he spoke the answer to his empty apartment, he realised the confusion within him. One part of him knew the answer, the other too stubborn to learn it or accept it. He supposed it was the right answer though. It made sense, after all. Everything had been too easy lately. Very little ever posed a threat or a challenge to him anymore. And life had, unfortunately, become boring. Perhaps the fact that his plans and dreams were falling into his lap made him question whether or not he was actually achieving anything. This one act, going against the grain, against everything that he was, and wanted, to his core, felt like the first time he had actually engage his brain in something. And that was good practice, because sure enough, when his greater plans were in motion, he would have to be well-versed in thinking on his feet. Especially if he wanted to outwit the GCPD and his future, pointy-eared nemesis.

And of course, besides all of that, he was Edward Nygma. There wasn’t a puzzle he couldn’t solve, no challenge he couldn’t eventually meet. The last thing he was going to do was let some ungrateful woman get him down. No way. Even if it took all of his determination and might, and every ounce of his brain power, which as previously concluded was not really up to much else at the moment, he would have you.

With a renewed, and somewhat misplaced, sense of confidence in his abilities, something he found hard to admit had even been diminished in the first place by your ridiculous behaviour, Eddie typed a simple message. Admiring it before sending it as though it were a piece of minimalistic art. A masterpiece. One to be looked on by the ages.

“Hey.”

That was enough. And quite frankly, it was all you deserved right now after your negligence and rude behaviour. He would let you come running to him. Let you get intrigued by his casual interest. You could – no­ – you would come to him. As he sat, grinning smugly at his self-congratulatory pride, his phone pinged. The small chime was enough to make him jump, his heart thumping as it missed a beat, a strange sense of arousal that surged through him at the mere suggestion of you paying a tiny iota of attention to him. And as he picked up his phone, he muttered to himself.

“A response already! See, Nygma, you know what you’re doing.”

Looking at the screen of his phone, his grin was immediately forced down by the immense emotional gravity into a large, comical frown, his brows scowling as he read the brief message you had decided to grace him with.

“What do you want?”

Seething, and through gritted teeth, Edward hissed into the empty apartment.

“Oh, you little…”

He managed o stop himself before he said something even he might have regretted. But still, enraged by your lack of interesting and your crude wording, Eddie felt his fingers tense around his phone painfully. Any more pressure, or strength in his slender body, and he may have cracked the device in half. Relaxing his digits, he typed a quick message in response, pleased with himself, but still deeply upset with yours. If that’s how you wanted to play it, then you could get ready to be met with a formidable opponent.

“Sorry, might be the wrong number. I have two girls’ numbers in my phone right now without names yet… which one are you?”

That would show you. False competition for his attention might engage you better. If you thought there was even the most slender, most remote chance, that you might not get to be with him, then it might encourage you to a little bit more receptive. Or at least, slightly more polite. But your response, coming incredibly quick, only served to snuff out that idea.

“I’m the one you should delete and block.”

“Fuck!”

Eddie tossed the phone once more, letting it land with a thud on the soft carpet on the floor as he rolled over on the sofa, burying his head in the cushions and letting out a variety of grunts and groans, though mostly mewling and pathetic whimpers. After a suitable amount of time spent feeling sorry for himself, and trying to convince his own ego that the backfiring of that particular approach was down to your difficult personality, he rolled back over. Staring blankly at the ceiling, he tugged nervously at his hair again as he tried to reason with the silence.

“Come on, Nygma. Solve the puzzle. She’s a Rubik’s cube, and you need to get your fingers all over her, twist her the right way until she makes sense.”

With an exasperated sigh, he reached to the floor and picked up his phone. There was a chance, he thought, that being himself might, for the first time ever, work when dealing with a woman. After all, it was foolish to keep trying the same methods and approaches, madness to think it might yield different results. Something completely different, something out of left field. A shock factor. It might just be the thing to loosen you up.

“Perhaps…”

Delighting in the idea that perhaps he was the solution to the puzzle after all, he typed out a new message. Very flirty, very cheeky, and typically Eddie all over.

“Oh!  It’s you. I’d recognise that attitude anywhere. Spicy. Off-putting. I won’t be deleting you, so what do you want your name to be in my contacts? Would ‘babe’ do?”

You were typing already. Hook, line and sinker. He had you, and even if you were only replying in order to tell him off, at least you were communicating with him. It was better than nothing. And it meant he might have another chance before you decided to block him.

“Absolutely not.”

“Ok then. What about ‘cutie’?”

“If you think ‘cutie’ suits me, then I think you still have my identity mistake.”

“Ok, fine then. If we’re going for descriptive accuracy, how would ‘Stone Cold Bitch From Hell’ suit you?”

The back and forth stopped. There was no immediate response from you, and panic began to settle in Eddie’s chest. If this backfired, it would take a lot to come back from it, effort he wasn’t sure he was ready to put into even a committed relationship let alone a hook-up with someone he barely knew. Even he might not be able to rescue this situation from the hole he had dug for it. Maybe, he should have clarified it was a joke. Text you back immediately with a smile and a laughing emoji. After all, not everyone was as intelligent as he was, and the nuances of his humour did often go unrecognised or misconstrued, through no fault of his own obviously.

When his phone finally pinged, Eddie held his breath as he looked at the screen, his skin dimpling and his hairs standing on edge as he waited for the disastrous consequences of his actions to rear their ugly head.

“Actually, that one kind of suits me. Maybe you’re a bit more perceptive than I thought you were. And don’t get excited, because that really isn’t saying a lot.”

With a smug grin washing over his face, Eddie elected not to respond any further than sending you one solitary winking face. That would do, for now. He had to take it slowly, even still. Weeks of pandering to you, of trying to be someone else. And now, finally, he found out that you were one of the rare few who responded positively to his true self. A woman of refined taste, it seemed. But he was still wary, cautious.

As he got himself ready for bed, he thought back on how much time he had wasted so far on you, trying to convince you that he was perfect for you from behind a façade that you clearly had no interest in. He’d learnt the lesson, yet again, the hard way. Be himself.

“Be yourself, Eddie. That’s how you’ve won everything you have so far in life. Who can resist your charms? I mean, come on!”

He grinned wide into the mirror above the sink, shooting himself a quick wink, sly smile spreading further. He brushed his teeth quickly, spitting into the basin before focusing his attentions back on his reflection, picking at his teeth and combing back his hair before stopping to pose in front of the mirror. He flexed his almost non-existent muscles, self-obsession and illusions of grandeur once again assuring him he had the body of an Adonis, and then he laughed.

“I am genuinely almost jealous of her. She gets to be with this! Hoe wonderful for her. I truly am a gift.”

Thoroughly enamoured with himself, he took his self-satisfaction and headed to his bed to celebrate it in the disgustingly lewd way only he could. And, surprisingly, beyond the thoughts of how wonderful he was, he was thinking of you as he congratulated himself over, and over again.

And he was still thinking of you in the morning when he woke up. It had been a long time, concerningly so, since someone other than himself, or that ridiculous vigilante with his tight-fitting costume and penchant for leather, had been able to steal the focus of his attention. The excitement at the novelty of the situation had him giddy as he got out of bed. Purposefully ignoring the pull of desire to check his phone for any notifications, he opted to primp and preen first. The longer he held off checking, the longer he could live in ignorant bliss of the true, and potentially heartbreaking, outcome.

“Schrödinger’s booty call…”

He winced at his own joke, the thought of it distressing him. What if that’s all he could get out of you, in the end, after all of this?

“OK, but do I really want more?”

Yes was the answer to that, although his empty apartment could hardly scream that back at him. This was beyond a quickie, a one-night stand with someone he found physically enticing. He had deeper feelings for you, maybe only slightly underneath his callous and crude surface. But they were definitely there. What they might amount to in the future even he couldn’t be sure of yet. But all he knew was that once with you would not be enough. Not for the trouble he considered himself having gone through for you.

Finally dressed and smothered in his obnoxious cologne, Eddie turned his attentions back to his bedroom as he left the ensuite to find out whether he had a reason to live this morning. And if you hadn’t replied, his plans to destroy Gotham would be enacted far sooner, spurred on by your cruelty.

Luckily, however, for the citizens of Gotham and Eddies own ego, given that with so little preparation he was sure to fall flat on his face if he commenced his grand scheme so early, he had one message and it was from you.

“Nygma. That’s right, consider yourself lucky that I remembered your name. You’re good with computers, yes? I seem to recall you bragging about it.”

“Ha ha! I’ve got you now!”

A typical ploy! How many times had he asked for help from someone, which he never needed given he was the smartest and most competent person who had ever lived, just to get closer to them or to spend time with them? Far too many for him to count. He was very aware of what you were trying to do. And he was more than happy to play ignorant, to play along and give you what you so clearly wanted.

On the edge of his seat, quite literally he realised as he shuffled back into the centre of his bed, his fingers tapped quickly, furiously, as he replied to your message.

“Obviously, of course I am. It’s kind of my thing. Although, you obviously knew that.”

Was he too smug? Maybe… But you clearly liked him. It was impossible for you to deny it now. It was only a matter of time before he lured you into his web and kept you there… willingly of course… unless…

Eddie’s more villainous daydream was cut short, thankfully, by the slight vibration of his phone against his palm, a tingle sent through him like an electric shock as he took a breath and looked to his screen, or looked to his future.

“Great. Is this guy any good? I need someone to fix my laptop and he looks competent.”

Attached to your words was a screenshot of some less man, the Computer King he was calling himself, who was offering extortionate prices for no doubt shoddy, subpar work, regardless of what it was that you needed.

Were you joking? He couldn’t be sure. It could be an effort to make him jealous, retaliation for his own efforts the night before. It felt as though you were goading him into offering himself up on a platter, detailing his skills and positive attributes like you were interviewing him for the job of “gracious boyfriend”. And that just wouldn’t stand, not even…

“It would stand though. Only for her. But still, irritatingly so…”

Laying back in his bed with a soft thump, he clutched the phone to his chest, reminiscent of how he had been the night before, and so many other moments leading up to this one. You were in his head, and he could feel you slipping into every other facet of his being. But still, he was slightly pissed off with your constant back and forth, your cold attitude, flaunting the concept of communication in front of him and then snatching it away cruelly with the suggestion that you’d be giving it to some other, lesser, man.

Fed up, and already annoyed at this early hour, he typed a droll message.

“Yep. He’d be good enough for you, anyway.”

With a falsified grin that faded into a genuinely emotional frown, he placed his phone down and went to the kitchen to grab some coffee. He managed to convince himself he’d done the right thing. Pretending to be proud of himself, he sipped slowly, a dramatic “ah” at the end of each slurp as he continued the farce. Who he was performing to, he wasn’t even sure himself. But given that he spent most of his time in solitary isolation, self-congratulatory arrogance with the aim of tricking himself into feeling comfortable was the least strange thing he did alone.

When he realised he hadn’t heard his phone chime, though, he began to feel tense and nervous. He was fidgeting, tapping the edge of his coffee mug with his fingers, shaking his leg, his foot bouncing on the ledge of the breakfast bar. One moment of, albeit in his mind rightfully placed, anger, and he’d undone his weeks of hard work.

“Idiot, idiot, idiot.”

In a rare moment of self-reflection that bordered on a breakthrough, Eddie considered his life as a whole, and how many things had actually gone right for him. The years of slaving away at a job that didn’t respect or value him, his tortuous formative years filled with bullying and excommunication from every social group he had tried to enter, his lack of luck in social situations with anyone he dared to interact with, his formidable and deeply unloving parents. The possible, but likely inevitable, end to his great schemes when the vigilante of Gotham decided to crack down on him. Surely, all of these amounted to an understanding that Eddie might just not be lucky, or made for good fortune. Or, could it be that Eddie was the problem? That he was the common denominator in all of the unfortunate things in his life?

It was a self-hating thread that he rarely pulled, for fear that his entire existence would become unravelled. But then, a glimmer of hope as he heard the chime, finally.

Tripping over himself in a bid to reach the phone as quickly as possible, he read the message wide-eyed and hopefully.

“I don’t want to regret this, Eddie. You seem to not understand. If I get another guy to look at my laptop for me, then I can meet you for a coffee while he works on it. You seem like you might be adequate entertainment for an hour. And besides, I feel like hating myself today. So?”

Eddie’s wide smirk pressed into his cheeks as he sighed dreamily. With any luck, you’d be willing to commit to hating yourself every day if he could just make sure this date went well. And since he had already managed to get this far with you, he assumed his natural charms would see him the rest of the way.

[sweetums0kitty]

Good Things in Small Packages

Edward Nashton x Soft!Dom reader

Warnings: Bondage, edging, 18+, Minors DNI.

Summary: Eddie won't listen when you say he's beautiful, what better way to convince him than a game of cat and mouse

Commission for @lovesickrobotic

“Lovely, just lovely.” Placing a long revenant kiss onto the cherubic cheek of the man securely bound below you. His lengthy form contorted slightly pushing himself further into the mess of pillows you had set him against. Pouting you leaned over and gently grasped his flushed cheek tilting the rounded face of your beloved. Edward was caught instantly within the intensity of the gaze. From the way you held his face gently stroking the right side with your left hand while the other was tracing the tendons of his throat. His pulse was racing wildly causing a gentle giggle to bubble up and out of your chest. "Eddie!" cooing you lent forward and placed another kiss on his fervent skin eliciting a shrill whine that buzzed your lips pleasantly. Edward squirmed under your touch but it was no use the silken fabric contoured around his plush form binding him to your will. Which, presently was to absolutely drench his entire being with as much affection as you could. Usually, Eddie would shy away from your praise, ducking his head to avoid the intensive expressions of love you desperately longed to lavish him with. Well! No more could he dodge you, once and for all you were going to worship Eddie the way he deserved.

Moving your lips downward you began to pepper little pecks and licks into the lower portion of Edward's face. Making doubly sure to reserve your slowest kisses for those points on his neck that pulled the sweetest sounds from within. "Y-Y/N I-!" nipping lightly at his Adam's apple Edward was bucking below you wildly. The contact with your soft lips and curved form was entirely too much and nothing at all. Internally a war was brewing in your beloved. The softer part of Edward was clawing fiercely to accept your affections, sink himself back into the pillows, and stuffed toys you had placed around his bound form in devoted adoration. But no matter how he tried the nagging voice in his brain slithered in whispering that he wasn't worth your love, and didn't deserve to be cared for in this way. There wasn't a time before meeting and falling in love with you that Eddie was shown this level of care, why should he get used to it now? Why should he grow fond of the feeling of your lips on his feverish skin… When… when… Before the negative spiral could truly take root you had crashed your lips to his in a fervent kiss chasing away the storm clouds and refocusing Edward's attention on you.

"You're thinking too much!" cooing in a sing-song tone. Your nails gently scratched his scalp stroking Edward's soft brown hair. Leaning into your touch your boyfriend mewled forlornly. "Sorry… I guess I'm not good at this whole… being loved thing." shrugging to the best of his ability despite the bindings. Frowning slightly as you thought of how best to get Edward's mind focused where it really belonged. Slowly a wicked grin formed on your lips. "Eddie~!" purring seductively as you sensually stroked his protruding stomach. You adored every inch of his lengthy body but his tenderly soft tummy was your favorite. He was staring at you with a slightly concerned expression saying nothing. Kissing his cheek you leaned into his ear whispering lowly "You wanna play a game?" Words dripping with seduction watching his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed shallowly. "What kind of game?" came his nervous reply. Giggling you wrapped an arm around his shoulders as you tugged him flush to your body. The sides of your breasts were pressing into his pallid chest. With every breath you took, they pushed tantalizingly close to his. "One we can both win.. one that lets me open you up. You are my special gift aren't you?" With the way, the bright green pupils behind his lenses were dilated you knew you were on the right track. "I- uh.. yeah." the reply was lame but blood was quickly rushing out of Edward's brain as you began to kiss your way down his body.

"Wha-ahh-t's the game?" voice cracking as your warm, wet tongue swirled around his quickly hardening nipples. Causing a hissing sigh from his plush lips when you began to suck gently. Kissing and licking the buds. Your other hand rolled the pert nipple under your thumb. Eddie's chest heaved as he moaned from your worship. Popping off his chest you kissed between his collarbones and laid them into his sternum. "Mm, since you can't seem to find it in you to accept my praise.. even though it's the absolute truth! I thought we'd try a little "positive reinforcement" using your fingers to continue to massage his chest. "How are you going to that?" his voice melted into a high-pitched whine of disappointment as you moved downwards licking lazily around the ribbons that crissed and crossed over his stomach. Bits of him sagged over the bows. He was your beautiful gift. Time to start unraveling the wrappings that held Eddie to earth. Nibbling gently at the pudge that resided there. It always struck you dumb over how beautiful he was in all his soft curves and long features. There was a grace in how his brow furrowed while working out a puzzle, how fast his brilliant mind would work out a problem and find the answer. However, you found him most beautiful at the precipice between brilliance and pure animal lust. Emerald eyes locked onto your hand as it slowly drifted down between his soft thighs. Gently running your nails between the binds around his flesh, twirling around his already leaking cock. You giggled softly as his hips bucked into your phantom touches. "God Eddie…" breathing heavily as you pressed warm, worshipful kisses around the skin of his inner thighs, before drifting your mouth over and hotly kissing his weeping cockhead. Listening to the sweet sobs that fell from his throat all while you worshipped him. Suddenly you bent up from between his legs using the binds at his chest as leverage to bring him in for a kiss that was all passion, yet still gentle. Softly exploring the cavern of his mouth with your tongue. His danced along yours in a fluttering mating ritual that pulled a guttural groan from deep within your throat.

Pulling way to cradle his flushed cheeks you gazed down at his little love-drunk smile. Gently you moved back down his body sitting between his thighs. "You ready to play the game sweetie?" Looking up at him through your lashes catching sight of his quickly bobbing mess of tawny brown hair "M'ready….." hips squirming together to the best of his abilities, you sighed quickly pinning him down. "Easy Eddie!" Cooing you gently stoked his thigh letting your hand fall to the taught base of his cock, where your silky soft hand ghosted up the shaft gripping it firmly in the middle. Letting it rest as you looked directly into his blown-out eyes, nearly black with lust. "The game is simple, I'm going to play with your cock and every time I compliment you, you're going to repeat what I say back or I'll stop stroking. Gluping down the lump in his throat your sweet little gift nodded shallowly to show he understood. Smiling at his acceptance you placed your other hand on his lower stomach, petting the flushed skin that resided there. "Good boy."

It was then time for the game to begin. All at once you had spit into your hand and then began to slowly pump his cock. Up, down, up, down, it was methodical the way you were massaging his skin. Thumb traveling up to circle his red tip. Your hands were heaven on earth for Edward as low sobbing moans flowed out of him. Enjoying the way his chest heaved as all the mussels in his body strained against the ribbons. In a moment your hand stopped pulling his attention to your face. "Eddie… You're so beautiful, the most beautiful person in Gotham." Starting with a hard one probably wasn't fair, but it was for the best. Almost gagging on his words Eddie's broken little voice choked out "I-I'm beau-fuck!" Your pointer finger and thumb had formed a ring and that was what currently was rubbing against his throbbing shaft going from feather soft to tight against him in an instant. "I-I- I'm beautiful! T-the most beautiful person- in Gah-Gotham!" squealing at the end as your nails brushed his leaky slit. "Good job Eddie!" cooing his flushed, sweat-covered skin, the silly round smile painted onto his cheeks Time for a harder one." You matter so so much, I don't know what I would do without you." He squeaked as you kept rubbing his cock milking the compliments from his lips. The same way you were milking the pre-cum from his tip.

Edward squeezed his eyes shut, in an almost pained expression, Your words, he heard them, they slammed into his heart like a fright train but he just couldn't get them to repeat, "Y-Y/N I can't- I'm not!" babbling as his body kept pulling at the ribbons, thrashing back into the large squishmallow he was snuggled into. Tears had begun to form on long bottom lashes, and the pink rose petals of his bottom lip wobbled tragically. Still, your hand deftly continued to rub at him. "Yes you can baby, I know you can." crooning softly. Your warm lips kissed his stomach lazily as you rested your head on his lower abdomen. "You don't want me to stop do you?" before you could finish asking Eddie shrieked no. Laughing slightly at the response you smiled while using your other hand to wipe his tears. "Recite." firmly holding his cock in place.

"I… matter so, so much" Choking down a sob as you kept massaging his dick Eddie managed to continue his recitation. Over and over your words were pounded into his skull as you expertly kept him on the edge of his orgasm. Finally coming to the very last set of words for him to repeat. Smoothly you had settled into Eddie's side a fitting place to be when he reached his end. "I'm a very good boy, who is going to cum all over my hand." In his state of delirium, Eddie didn't notice your command. Too busy being a blushing fucked out mess he mumbled the words back. "M'a very good boy… Gunna cum all o'ver your hand." It wasn't until you were letting go of his cock and he felt the thick ropes of cum hitting his stomach that he realized the whining moans were his own. You soothed Eddie through his orgasm gently cradling him in your arms as you stroked his hair. "Thank you, baby, you did so good for me." Peppering kisses into his cheeks. Coming down for his high Edward snuggled into your arms. He was stripped bare and laid out before you. But instead of mocking him or ripping his heart out you took the parts of him that sagged with lack of love and filled it with your adoration for him. "I- love you Y/N.." gasping between heaving breaths. You simply returned your lips to his kissing Edward as if your lives depended on it.

[acapelladitty]

Greasing The Wheels: Part Two

Pairing: Riddler/Reader/Scarecrow

Word Count: 6.5k

Part One available HERE

Summary: After the 'success' of your first meeting with Crane, Edward arranges another meeting as he allows the mad scientist free use of your body and soul.

(warnings: threesome, deepthroating, whipping, double penetration, rough sex, exhibitionism, bdsm dynamics, anal sex, crying, orgasm, cum marking, punishment)

As always, Edward’s instructions were as clear as day and delivered in such a way that even the simplest of minds could comprehend them as your eyes flick over the scrawled note which awaited you atop his favourite chair.

Your role is to do whatever is asked of you. You will service Crane as a makeshift cleaner, doing what you can to improve his working space, while also fulfilling any other service which he may require of you. You are expected to do so with enthusiasm and skill, using your prior knowledge of what Crane likes to ensure that he enjoys you.

Failure to meet any of these very basic requirements will result in punishment and Crane and I have very different approaches to administering discipline. We have discussed your enjoyment of our previous meeting and Crane has expressed a clear desire to test you with elements of his toxin. Disappoint or embarrass me and I will be forced to indulge him.

All our usual rules apply, and Crane is aware of both your limits and your safeword.

Preparations were quick to follow.

You were meticulous in your routine as every inch of your body found itself treated to some form of treatment, be it an exfoliation or a shave, and your makeup was kept simple to enhance your natural features. It was Edward’s preference and on nights like this, when the game was the focus of your fun, it was your pleasure to indulge him.

Edward observed the results, as he always did, and he seemed pleased with your efforts if the slight warmth in his gaze and wandering hands was anything to go by.

“Pretty little thing.” He murmured, running his fingers across the loose white shirt which tucked into the short skirt that hung to just above your knee. “Do you remember your role?”

“Yes, sir.” You answer and the title earns you an approving nod as he pulls his goggles free of his hairline and deposits them at the side.

“Excellent. I will be working on the finishing touches for Crane’s new customised leg brace so my presence will be mixed. He is aware of my hard rules and, should he disrespect them, you are permitted to call for me and seek out my support. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Do well and we’ll see about a special reward.” Edward leered, not bothering to hide the slight tent in his slacks as he brushed his groin against your hip.

“One that I’ll like?” You ask, batting your lashes as you tilt your head at him.

The question nets a chuckle as his fingers trace along your jawline.

“For a little while, yes.”

x-x-x-x-x

The abandoned farmhouse which Edward revealed as Crane’s hideout was surprisingly imposing as it loomed ahead on the short drive. Edward, one hand on the wheel and the other alternating between the gearstick and your thigh, did not seem the slightest bit intimidated as he quickly dragged the car up the dirt path and switched the engine off.

A nervous energy, one borne of your previous encounter with Crane plus the promise of what lay ahead, made your body shiver as your hands flexed against your legs.

“Are you incompetent?”

The question catches you by surprise, making you start a little as your head snaps towards Edward - only to find him staring at you intently.

“I’m not sur-”

“Are you incompetent?” Edward repeated, cutting you off with a harsh voice.

Meeting his gaze as you often did, you shake your head softly.

“No, sir.”

“Then you will be fine. You have your instructions and your safety net.”

Now nodding in agreement, you slip from the car and try to ignore the slight dampness of your underwear and the shameful way in which your anxiety only seems to make it worse.

The house is unlocked, and Edward is quick to sweep you through the main floor as he leads you through to the main living space. It is an odd sort of house with many of the furnishings and trappings missing, replaced with unmarked boxes and scientific looking equipment which meant nothing to you. Eventually though, your gawking ceases as Edward turns a corner and brings you face to face with Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow himself.

Clearly in his main workspace, a large desk sat surrounded by various notepads and stacks of books which were clearly used often. A slightly smaller desk lay attached to the larger one and this was covered with beakers and mixed bottles of coloured liquids.

Crane himself stood in full costume; his patchwork costume and mobility aids as familiar as ever as the majority of his face lay hidden away by both his mask and the shadows of his hood.

A traitorous stab of arousal lances through you as you meet his milky gaze once more.

“Good evening, Doctor Crane.” Lowering your head in greeting, your voice is slightly higher than usual and the cadence of it doesn’t go amiss as a slight smirk tugs at the corners of Edward’s lips.

“Crane.” Edward offers, nodding only once.

“Nygma.” Jonathan answers in kind. “And his little pet. How delightful. Does she know of our arrangement?”

Heat tickles at your cheeks as both men speak of you as if you were not there.

“Yes. She knows the role she is to fill as we work.”

“Good. Come here, dear.”

Moving forward on legs which feel unsteady, you take the few steps necessary to stand before him and your neck tilts up to meet his impressive height.

“And what do you think of our little arrangement? I don’t imagine your master asked your thoughts before he traded you like a whore.” Heat pooling between your thighs, your arms remain submissively pinned to your side as his thin hands move to ghost along your body, teasing the edge of the shirt.

“He told me what was expected and it’s not my place to question it, Sir.”

Crane’s cold fingers trace over the soft bruises which have only just started to fade on your exposed collarbone, his fingertips matching up to the evidence of your activities with Edward earlier in the week. “Masochism suits you, little toy. Tell me, at what point do those masochistic tendencies fall into true suffering? When your master punishes you? Roughly fucks you? When you disappoint him?”

“If I disappoint him then I deserve to be punished.” You answer with a demure smile, feeling the burn of Edward’s eyes on the back on your skull. “He’s brilliant and he always knows what’s best for me.”

“Even when he punishes you to the point where tears are streaming, and you feel ready to break? To shatter into pieces like fragile glass?”

“Especially then.” You pause before adding a hasty. “Sir.”

It’s a cheeky response and it does not go unnoticed as yet another small chuckle pulls free of Edward’s unseen lips and Crane’s eyes darken, dilating almost imperceptibly.

“Your little rabbit has fire.” Crane comments, eyes casting over to Edward as he disregards you completely. “Do you lack the discipline to truly snuff it out?”

“A broken toy has no appeal.”

“Hmm, yes. For once, we agree.”

And with that Crane took a step back and you found yourself dismissed as both men took their leave to head over to one of the sprawling tables. Remembering Edward’s earlier information, you turn in place and head back to the kitchen which you had spotted earlier, knowing that the items you need will be found there.

Sure enough, sitting atop one of the wooden kitchen units lies a plastic bucket surrounded by two or three various cleaning products plus a fresh pack of cloths. A touch of humiliation plays across your skin as your role for the evening truly sets in and you are quick to fill the plastic bucket with hot water from the nearby tap before adding some cleanser.

Your clothing isn’t designed for such a cool building and you shiver as a breeze curls around your exposed legs, piercing through your shirt and making your nipples press against the fabric as they peak. In response, you drop to the floor and start your tasks as you dip one of the cloths into the cleaning mixture and swipe it across the floor.

It comes away with some dirt but not as much as you would have expected given the general state of the house and a firm determination to do as well as you can settles in your mind. Edward wouldn’t allow any less and the promise of a reward was as deliciously tempting as ever.

Scrubbing away at the floor with a rhythmic motion time loses meaning until a soft creak of the wood behind you causes a startle that makes the brush fall from your hand. Attempting to turn in position, you find your movements halted by a rough hand gripping the back of your neck in such a way that you freeze in instant panic.

Little more than a creature clamped between wolves’ teeth.

"Do not stop working. No matter what."

Cold words with an unspoken threat, instantly recognisable as the deep tenor of Crane, wash over you and you nod out your understanding - a tight, anticipatory feeling settling in your gut.

"Speak, little rabbit. I trust your narcissistic master hadn't robbed you of your tongue yet."

"Yes, Dr. Crane, sir." You stammer out as your hand seals around the fallen brush to pick it up once more. Always following instructions.

Like a good girl should.

Your skirt is flung unceremoniously over your lower back to expose your entire lower half to his sight. A heated flush paints its way down your face and neck as you maintain slow circles of the brush while remaining on your knees.

His fingers are quick to brush over your skin, a feather light touch which draws a sigh from your lips until it forms into a light squeal as he brings his hand down hard on your defenceless ass. The loud crack of the connection breaks through the air like lightning and is instantly followed by a spreading heat that warms your cunt and sends a shiver down your spine.

"Don't. Stop." Two words punctuated by growls as he sinks two fingers viciously into your cunt, the digits using the thankful wetness there to sink up to the knuckle without much resistance. It's not a gentle touch, his fingers clearly testing your readiness rather than providing it, but the calloused skin and slight fullness feels like a delicious warning of what is to come.

His grip is brutal, hand digging into the flesh of your hips as you hear the slight squeak of his mechanical brace as he drops heavily on one knee to the floor. Arching your back, you raise your ass as you were expected to do - the position uncomfortable as you now support yourself mainly on the one hand which is not scrubbing away at the floor.

The sensation of his velvety cockhead brushed against your slit, seeking out the warm hole he viewed you as. The side of his curled hand brushes against your cunt as he angles himself carefully before thrusting himself within you in one sharp movement.

A yelp snaps free of your lips, pleasure lanced with a discomforting pain at his sudden intrusion making your walls spasm around him as your knees jerk against the floor. His breathing is heavy, interspersed with low grunts, as he gives himself a moment to enjoy the tightness of your hole as you clench around him.

It doesn't last, and he immediately sets himself off on a cruel pace; his hips slamming against your ass as he drives himself hard against your body, every thrust sparking a dull, aching pain as the very tip of his cock bounces off your cervix. The onslaught leaves you breathless, discomfort making tears well in your eyes as you cling to the warm pleasure which steadily builds around it.

"You take it so well." Crane snarls. "A trained whore, fulfilling her only purpose."

"Yes, sir."

"I'm going to use you as I see fit and when I'm ready to provide you the reward you've worked so hard for, you'll take every drop."

Shaking your head in a frantic nod, you cry out as a harsh hand tugs as your hair - yanking it back with such a ferocious grasp that your scalp burns as your head stretches back in such a way that your neck is fully exposed.

"Verbal answers only, little toy."

"Yes! Yes, sir. I understand." You babble out, the words strained by your taut neck before adding. "Thank you."

You can almost hear his smirk at the add-on as he resumes his brutal pace, his cock giving no quarter as the length of it reams you out. He was definitely longer than Edward but not as thick and the difference in size was surprising and unfamiliar.

Before long, his grunts grew more erratic, and his grip of your hips tightened to the point where you were certain that small rounded bruises would decorate the spot in the coming days. Without any warning, aside from a wicked thrust which slammed his cock against your cervix one final time, you felt the heat of his release as it burned you from the inside out.

Turned on but nowhere near your own peak, a whine of frustration slips free of your lips as you clench around him determined to milk out whatever pleasure you could. Sensing your intentions, Crane pulls free of you with a lurid wet noise which sparks a fresh blush across your cheeks. His hand gropes at your ass roughly, caressing and squeezing the skin painfully as he inspects your wrecked hole and the mess there.

"Turn." He commands, his tone low yet satisfied as he enjoyed the aftershocks of his own orgasm.

Following his intention, you keep the brush tight in hand as you shuffle around on your knees.

"Clean me, whore. Every inch." His hand is wrapped delicately around the base of his cock, his pinkie pressing against the thick patch of dark pubic hair which covers the skin there. "Miss even a millimetre and I'll take a switch to you so harshly that your master will have a hard time fixing the damage."

Shuddering at the threat, you dip your mouth forward and take his cock between your lips. The immediate taste of your own juices mixed with his release hits your tongue and it isn't the worst thing ever so you hum contentedly as you set your tongue to quick work; curling around his length and slurping along the shaft as you clean him diligently.

"I'll be using this cunt again before you leave."

You pull free of his cock to reply as a flush overtakes your cheeks at the unexpected vulgarity. "Yes, sir."

And without sparing a second glance in your direction, Crane tucks his wet cock back in his slacks, turns on his heel and disappears back through to the main workroom. His release trickling free of your abused cunt, you cup your hand across your sex and enjoy the heat of the skin against your palm. Your clit throbs beneath the heel of your hand and the temptation to grind into it is wicked.

Approaching footsteps make you flinch, and you quickly snatch your hand away and return to work, pulling your skirt from your back to its original state before rapidly wiping messy circles across a fresh patch of flooring.

“Working hard, pet? Good. I expect no less.”

Warmth alights in your chest as you look up to see Edward looming over your prone position. His dark slacks have an obvious bulge, and you crawl towards him obediently and without insistence, hands fumbling with his zipper to release his cock as he continues speaking.

“Good girl.” He praises quickly, a smile stretching his lips as you pump your hand along his cock. His green shirt is stained with grease and the scent of oil is strong against your nose. “Crane seems pleased with whatever performance he expected from you. Again, not that I expected any less. Your diligence towards your training shows.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You answer, enjoying the familiarity of his cock in your hand as you tease and please him in the ways which you know he loves – ensuring to keep your focus on the ultra-sensitive head of his cock and maintaining a firm pressure on the length as you stroke him down to the thick patch of pubic hair which cushions his groin.

Before too long, his breathing grows harsh and his hips move to buck his cock within your grip, both telltale signs that mean he’s almost ready for his release – signs that you had long since grown accustomed to as his cock remained buried deep within your throat or ass.

“Open your mouth.” He demands and you do so in an instant.

His hand replaces your own as a stuttering groan slips free of his lips and you jump in surprise as his release splashes across your mouth; thick ropes of cum landing across your tongue as one drips across your lower lip. The taste of him is quick to fill your senses and you allow your mouth to hang open until he’s quite finished and has slipped his softening cock back within his slacks.

“Now clean yourself up, pet.”

Swiping your tongue across your lower lip, you pick up the mess there and swallow it down without hesitation. A choice which earns you an approving grunt as his hand drops to press along your head, almost in the way that someone would pet a dog.

“Keep it up and my reward will remain will within reach.”

x-x-x-x-x

Kitchen complete and looking cleaner than you suspected it had been in some time, you soon move through to the living room without much difficulty. The only slight pause in your work came after finishing your thorough scrub of the floor and taking a much-needed bottle of water from the nearby fridge. You were thankful for the chilled water because you had a feeling you would be needing the extra hit of fluid before the evening was over.

The main room was cleaner than the kitchen and the difficulty mostly lay in trying to wipe-down between all the nooks and crannies of Crane’s various pieces of equipment. Some were dustier than others and moving around them required a level of focus that you were struggling to maintain.

Your earlier drink of water has washed the taste of Edward from your mouth, but your cunt still feels the sting of its earlier use, a sensation made worse by the constant standing and kneeling which was necessary for your domestic duties. The only benefit of having moved on to this space is that you can clearly see both men standing on the other side of the room as they continue their business.

Wiping the damp cloth across the table, your eyes dart over to both men as they remain huddled over some metal contraption which means nothing to your ignorant eyes.

A crash of glass makes you jump in place, and you whirl back to the table just to notice that one of the small glass beakers which was placed precariously close to the edge of the table is missing. A quick glance down confirms the mess, the tapered tip of the beaker having broken off and smashed in half just next to the base.

"Well, well, well…" Edward disappointed voice rings out from across the room and you straighten your spine against it, even as your head falls submissively to the floor.

"I'm sorry, Sirs, this toy didn't mea-"

"What you meant to do is irrelevant," Edward interrupts, his hand wiping itself off on his dingy white vest, "but what you did is make a mess. The exact opposite of your purpose here."

Remaining silent, you bow your head further to show just how sorry you were as a creeping suspicion that you had been set-up crawls along your spine.

"Doctor Crane?"

"Yes, Edward?" Crane joins the conversation smoothly, resting his weight on his good leg as a sadistic delight smooths across his twisted features.

"Since my toy saw fit to harm your property, I feel that an equal payment is due in kind. Please show our," Edward pauses, "what did you call her? Ah, yes, little rabbit, how carelessness is rewarded in this life."

"Of course." Crane croons in his deep tenor and a shiver runs through your skin as you realise that his punishments are unknown, nothing like those you were familiar with Edward doling out.

"And Crane?"

"Yes?"

Edward said nothing but his glance was particularly hard in such a way that you know something unspoken had passed between them.

Crane's movements were light as he approaches. His costume flutters with the subtle movement and your gaze settles on his shoes as you remain still. However, a hard grip on your chin forces your head up as you lock eyes with his milky gaze.

"Your master insists that I refrain from the use of my toxin as a punishment."

A shudder of relief rolls through your shoulders and Crane's features harden slightly as he notices it.

"For now, I should say. I have explained to him how such an experiment can be conducted safely, and he has asked for slightly more data which is easily provided. You will taste my toxin yet, whore."

His thin lips curl into a cruel smile, a determined smile, and you can hear the truth in the words.

"However," Crane continues, "his interference has meant that I am reduced to more physical forms of punishment. Go to your master and collect the switch."

Fear laced with arousal pools deep in your gut.

The dreaded switch.

Edward's punishments were not typically physical, his preference for predicament tasks and pinpoint orgasm control making the need for corporal punishment a less attractive option. But they weren't unknown and of all the various impact toys he introduced you to, the sharp sting of the switch was not among those that you could say you liked.

Padding over to where Edward is standing, he points wordlessly to the wall behind him, and you see the switch standing upright against it. You pick it up and quickly return to Crane, handing him the thin wooden stick and watching as he quickly tucks it beneath his armpit.

His hands, as steady as a surgeon, make quick work of your shirt - ripping the buttons free as they skitter across the floor with a tinny sound. Gooseflesh breaks across your skin at how cool his fingers are as he gropes at your tits with a methodical brutality; squeezing with a full palm before zeroing his attention in on your peaked nipples, a vicious pinch between his thumbs and forefinger making you whimper.

"A very soft little thing." He muses in a gravelled voice. "Malleable."

Remaining silent, you take the unexpected examination with shuddering breaths as arousal and shame swirl through your thoughts while he takes the shirt from your upper body and dumps it unceremoniously on the floor.

"Turn around."

"Yes, Dr Crane."

Turning, you face the opposite way and jump in place as his cold hands grab at your wrists to move them against the wall you were now facing.

"If these hands move from this position, then I'll double your punishment for disobedience." He warns, rolling the hem of your skirt between his fingers before tucking it in to the waistband – fully exposing your ass as much as your back.

"Yes, Sir."

"Ten was the agreement set out by your master so let's not disappoint him. Count them out."

CRACK

The first blow catches you across the upper back in such a way that the sting of it makes your upper half curl in place. It's like a flick of lightning, carving its way across your exposed skin for a moment of sharp pain followed by an unpleasant throb as you couldn’t rub at the affected area.

"One." You answer steadily.

He's cruel in his delivery of the next two strikes, swishing the switch with a surprising level of force and ensuring that he hits fresh skin across the middle and lower parts of your back. The second hit you took with a grunted count of two, but the third drew a soft yelp of discomfort as your face screwed up in pain.

"We're only on three, little rabbit. Surely Nygma wouldn't play with a toy this easily broken?"

CRACK

“Four!” You cry out, flinching hard as this blow land across the back of your upper thighs, the sting there even worse than your back. He follows up with another two, quick blows and they both lash across your exposed thighs as a high-pitched cracking noise rings out across the quiet workspace.

There’s very little pleasure to this pain and the sudden intensity of it brings tears to your eyes as your palms tremble against the wall. Your thighs feel like they’re on fire and you wouldn’t be surprised if the welts were already visible from the sheer force which Crane seemed to be putting into the hits.

“Six.” A stuttered whimper.

Ready for a new target, you feel the tip of the switch tracing across your ass, and you tense in preparation of the hits to come. Again, he’s sadistic in his delivery of the next three blows. The first cracks across your ass with a sharp pain that draws a yowl of distress from your lips, one made worse by the continuing throb of your back and thighs. Crane then waits, long enough to ensure that the pain of the hit was beginning to ebb before delivering the next.

Knowing that Edward was watching, you call out the numbers of each strike of the switch – the ninth call coming out as more of a cry than an easy distinguished number and your knees shake with the effort of keeping your body absolutely still, knowing that Crane will add another ten if he sensed any hint of disobedience.

“Only one left, little rabbit.” Crane calls out, his voice laboured with the effort of his hits. “Where should I put this one, I wonder? Edward?”

“Dealers choice. She hates corporal punishment, so I trust your judgment.” Edward’s unseen voice responds, and you can hear the amusement in his tone.

Standing with your hands and legs spread, the silence which falls fills you with an anxiety made even worse by the fact that you know Crane is seriously considering how best to use his final hit.

CRACK

A searing heat sparks up across your cunt as the switch collides with the sensitive, stinging flesh there which such a shocking intensity that your heels rock off the floor and an open sob of distress flees your lips as your teeth bite at your lower lip. Truly suffering, a fat tear rolls free of your right eye and trails down your cheek, tickling the skin there as your hands remain pinned against the wall and unable to wipe it away.

A looming presence behind you makes you tense as Crane drapes his taller frame across your own, the tent of his slacks pressing against your upper hip as his hand drops to run across the various heated welts which decorate your ass and thighs.

“You took that surprisingly well, whore.” He growls into your ear, pressing his fingers roughly into one of the raised welts as you whimper in kind. “I’m slightly disappointed that you held out so well. I was looking forward to painting that skin more thoroughly.”

He pulls away and you drop your hands from the wall, knowing that your punishment is filled, and your fingers shake terribly as they dip the floor to pick up your shirt. Pulling it on, you pause to fix your skirt but don’t bother to try and do the remaining buttons on the shirt as your hands are trembling too much to make such a thing possible.

With blurry eyes, the sharpness taken by the tears which remain, you watch as Crane walks to one of the nearby couches and deposits himself on it roughly. It’s an old-looking couch, worn and frayed around the edges where the fabric has been overused, and the tacky brown shade of it feels very old-fashioned.

“I am tired of helping you, little rabbit, and your discipline has stripped me of some of my energy. Come here.”

As obedient as ever, you walk over to him with soft footsteps, the heat of your abused skin flaring against your shirt with every step. Your eyes glance over to Edward only to see him bent over the work desk, his back fully to you as he tinkered with something mechanical.

“I will not waste more of my effort on you.” Crane announced, pinning you in place with his milky gaze. “You will come and fuck yourself on my cock until I am satisfied.” His hands were quick to release his cock as he spoke, his rock-hard length – the result of his enjoyment of your punishment – standing to immediate attention as he wrapped his fist around the base of it.

Despite your pains, your neglected cunt is wet as hell and you hike your skirt over your hip as you crawl onto his lap, carefully avoiding the metal leg brace as you try to find a position which won’t cause him any discomfort. His body feels very thin beneath your own but he manhandles you well enough as he adjusts his cock against your wettened slit.

He’s in no mood for foreplay and, knowing that your cunt was already stretched out from his earlier fuck, he pulls you down harshly to sink his cock fully between your folds. The sudden fullness draws a moan from your lips as he stretches you out in fell swoop and your cunt clenches around his length. After the pain of your punishment, a little pleasure wasn’t going amiss and you roll your hips across his lap, taking him as deeply as you could as your hands grip to the fraying fabric of the couch in a desperate attempt to chase some pleasure.

His costume is scratchy and uncomfortable against your welted skin, and you focus on the sensation of his cock as you bounce on his lap with a steady rhythm, fucking yourself as instructed.

Closing your eyes for only a moment, a savage pinch of your nipples forces them open as a yelp escapes your lips. His fingers are as rough as ever as he plays with your bouncing tits, pinching and groping at the skin until it’s reddened and extra-sensitive beneath his hands. The fascination he holds with your chest is unabashed and his slender fingers, scarred and hosting jagged nails, torment your skin with a sadistic precision.

“Enjoying yourself, whore?”

Startling at the suddenness of Edward’s voice in your ear, you unleash a short cry and your head tilts back to meet him as he continues.

“Don’t stop on my account. In fact, let me join you.”

His cock brushes along the cleft of your ass and you shiver in anticipation. As part of your preparations, he had insisted on a thorough cleaning but in the heat of the evenings events you had forgotten his earlier insistence.

A crack of a bottle rings out behind you and Crane seems content to remain buried within your cunt as he watches you interact with Edward with a subtle interest, gleaning what little aspects of your dynamic that he can.

Edward’s fingers press against the rim of your ass, and you can feel the coolness of the lube which coats them. He makes quick work of covering your hole before slipping in two fingers for a sudden stretch which takes your breath away. Anal was no stranger between the two of you but it was something which usually was graced with a little more prep and stretch time.

His fingers scissor within you and you tighten your hole around him, a move which draws a growl of pleasure from Crane as you milk his cock with every clench.

You relax as Edward’s fingers pull free and are quickly replaced with the blunted head of his cock pressing against your hole. In one quick thrust, he buries the first few inches within you and your body pushes forward, pressing against Crane as you’re forced to accept him.

It’s pain and pleasure in one; an intense fullness which makes your skin feel as though it’s going to combust as your holes stretch to accept and accommodate both cocks. Prepared enough to ensure no real damage, you were not prepped enough to avoid the hollowing throb of having your ass reamed out and the burning discomfort of your hole draws several small whimpers from your swallowing throat.

Your clit remained woefully neglected, the small sensitive button feeling as though it were aching with its utter lack of attention.

“My work is finished.” Edward grunted, maintaining a rhythmic pace with Crane as their cocks moved in tandem. “Your new leg brace is fully functional and ready for use.”

“Is it coated as requested?”

“Yes.”

“Excellent. I will ensure that payment is included in the usual account. As discussed, there is room for a bonus if you would allow me my own session with your little rabbit.”

“Provide me evidence that you won’t break her in the ways I don’t want her broken and then we’ll see about booking an appointment with the good doctor for a private session.”

Both mean speak conversationally, if a little strained, as they continue to fuck and talk about you as if you weren’t there. It’s humiliating and the shame only adds to the hot pleasure which is sweeping across your spine and making your clit throb.

With a vicious growl, Crane indicates for you to move off his cock and you slip him free of your cunt while allowing Edward to continue to thrust against your ass. Fisting himself in hand, Crane’s breathing is erratic as he strokes his cock rapidly, chasing his peak. He hits it after a few moments, his release arcing across your exposed chest as one particularly energetic drop of cum lands as high as your chin, feeling warm against your skin.

He continues to stroke himself through the aftershocks of his orgasm, visibly pleased with having painted you with his release, as his gravelled voice makes more demands of you.

“Leave the mess. I want you to wear the rewards of your services until you’re out of my sight.”

“Yes, Sir.” You stutter out, cunt feeling empty and suddenly neglected by the loss of his cock.

With a careless grunt, Crane pushes you off him to the side as he slinks out from his position beneath your sweat-slicked and cum-stained frame. Luckily, Edward’s grip of your hips was so intense that it didn’t matter much to him as he bent you further over the couch and only fucked you harder as Crane slipped off to inspect his new leg brace.

“Have you come yet, pet?” Edward grunts, the fingers of the hand which isn’t currently pressing into your hip trailing across the welts which decorate your ass.

“No, Sir. Of course not.” You pant out, arching you back to give him easier access to your ass as you carefully bend in such a way to not disturbed the mess of cum which is splattered across your chest.

He hums at your answer and a low scream slips free of your lips as his fingers stroke along your cunt, brushing against your swollen clit like a bolt of pleasurable lightning. His touch is soft and teasing, perfectly circling the sensitive bundle of nerves as he coats his fingers in your juices before returning to your clit.

Demented with the sudden onslaught of pleasure, your orgasm approaches like a freight train and your limbs tremble against the effort of keeping yourself bent over as he expertly pulls you to your peak. Incoherent pleas spill from your lips and your ass clenches around his cock with every thrust.

With a muted cry, your release hits as the tight band of arousal which has been tightening across your groin snaps into a glorious bliss of intense pleasure – the culmination of your various uses and abuses comes to fruition as Edward presses his thumb roughly against your clit to quickly force you into overstimulation. Your vision blurs dangerously for a moment and you feel his body shudder against your own as your desperate clenching pushes Edward over the edge, his release hitting just a few moments after your own.

Overstimulated as he takes out his orgasm on your clit, your scream is low and guttural as every nerve seems to alight across your body. Edward cares little for your plight and you feel the heat of his release painting the inside of your ass with a scorching heat as he rides out his own pleasure.

“Good girl.” Edward pants out and you smile despite everything. He very rarely spoke while fucking, often reserving his long speeches and humiliating praises for the before and after, so you drink in this little change like a woman starved.

Edward pulls free of your ass with an obscene noise that makes fresh heat flare in your cheeks. His hands are quick to wrap around your waist and pull you to your feet, a movement which makes some of his release leak free of your ass and down your thighs as you lean back into his familiar and comforting frame.

“Remember,” he mutters into your ear as his face nuzzles against your sweat-slicked neck, “don’t touch that mess on your chest or I’ll have to let Crane have his way with you.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“You look beautiful like this. Fucked out, marked up, and coated – inside and out - with the rewards which you worked so hard for.”

“Thank you, Sir.” You shudder out, enjoying the sensation of his lips on your neck as the adrenaline of your night catches up with you and envelopes you in a fatigue which makes your legs feel like jelly as a slight nausea touches at your throat.

“Let’s go.”

Supporting your body with his own in a possessive way, neither Edward not Crane spare each other another glance as Edward makes to leave. Your skirt is a mess, crumpled and stained by various releases, and your shirt is ruined. However, it’s only a short walk to the car and you know there’s a coat in there which can cover you as you return down to Edward’s own workspace.

As Edward pushes the door open to allow you to pass through, the last thoughts which touch at your mind as you finish up your hard session is to wonder just how much data Edward will need before he lets the Scarecrow play with you once more.

(will upload to AO3 this weekend)

[sister-lucifer]

i love when people with names like “Diavolos-juicy-pussy-lips” or “theriddlersfucktoycumdump” reblog my fics it’s how i know i’ve reached the target audience

[candied-heartss]

𝐖𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒

(ᵗʰᵉ ʳⁱᵈᵈˡᵉʳ ˣ ᶠᵉᵐ! ʳᵉᵃᵈᵉʳ)

𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇: 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝖽𝗅𝖾𝗋 𝗄𝗂𝖽𝗇𝖺𝗉𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖽𝖺𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝗉𝗋𝗈𝗆𝗂𝗇𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗆𝖾𝗆𝖻𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗆 𝖼𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝖼𝗂𝗅, 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝖺 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗂𝗍 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗇 𝗌𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖺𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝗈𝗋..

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ (𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜), 𝗸𝗶𝗱𝗻𝗮𝗽𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗮 𝘁𝗮𝗱 𝗯𝗶𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝘂𝗯𝗰𝗼𝗻, 𝗸𝗻𝗶𝗳𝗲𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆, 𝗱𝗲𝗴𝗿𝗮𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻, 𝘀𝗹𝘂𝘁𝘀𝗵𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗯𝗼𝗻𝗱𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗽𝗲𝗻𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅, 𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴, 𝗼𝗿𝗮𝗹 𝘀𝗲𝘅 (𝗺 𝗿��𝗰𝗲𝗶𝘃𝗶𝗻𝗴), 𝗳𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴

You slowly regained consciousness, eyes blinking once, twice, three times before finally opening up fully to look around your area. You were in an unknown person's room, laying on a grimy mattress on the even dirtier floor with your hands bound behind your back with duct tape, with your mouth being restrained with more of the silver adhesive.

"Oh good," a deep voice crooned, "you're awake. I thought I would have to slap you awake myself, but you made my job so much easier for me."

Your eyes widen in terror and shock as you scramble to sit up, using your legs as guidance. Beneath the makeshift gag, you whimper anxiously as the man clad in a green army jacket with a question mark crudely painted onto its surface, heavy trousers with even heavier boots, and a mask that covered his whole face, save for his eyes, which were protected by clear-framed glasses.

You whine again in fear, looking up at the man, trying to back away, but he comes closer, bending down to look at you. Only then, did it dawn on you how tall he was and how it made you feel small yourself, even though you were of average height.

"Oh, look at you. You're scared, aren't you?" He observed, reaching out a gloved hand and brushing your hair away from your face. You attempted to move away from his touch only for him to harshly grip your jaw.

"Eyes up here, baby." He ordered, making you look up at him with the fear still lingering in your eyes.

He smiled at your almost instant submission, "There we go. That's a good girl. We can't have you misbehaving now, can we?"

You slowly nodded, deciding the best way not to make this man snap is to just play along.

"You're probably wondering why you're here, don't you?" he asked, stroking your cheek and looking into your eyes deeply, almost penetrating your soul with his gaze alone. You nod again and he chuckles as if this whole ordeal was highly amusing to him.

"Well, it all starts with your dear father, the one who works for the city council. It was he and his other lackeys that have been a part of the reason why this city remains the cesspool of corruption that it always has been. They've been accepting bribes from Carmine Falcone's men, all so they could fill their appetite for greed."

Your eyes widen at the man's words. No, no. This couldn't be true. Your father, your honest, caring father, collecting money from Falcone's operation? It just didn't seem right. You let out a shocked cry at his words, only to quickly shush you, cooing in your ear.

"Oh, I know, sweetheart. This must be so hard for your dumb, little brain to comprehend, but your father is not the man that you believe him to be. Your father is just like every other politician in this hellhole of a city. They all promise that change will come, a ploy to get the masses to flock to them like a herd of sheep, only to break them down, and strip them of their faith in them, all so that they can feed into the corrupt system that they created."

You shake your head, tears beginning to form in your eyes. "Please, please don't let that be true. My father is a good man... he would never do this." you thought to yourself as you looked back at him.

The man then chuckled, "But that's alright, because now that I have you..." His gloved hand went to caress your cheek, "they'll be sure to listen to the people and change their ways of exerting their power over the people."

You flinch when he comes closer to you, practically grazing your lips with his mask as he seemingly gets an idea.

"In fact, I think that I'll just keep you for now. Maybe, I'll even use you for something very special..."

You shivered at his words, wondering what he meant when he finally ripped the tape off from your lips, making you hiss in pain from the adhesive sticking to the sensitive skin. He then flips you over, so that you're in a kneeling position on your arms and legs before swiftly pulling out a thin pocket knife and dragging along the bare skin that was not covered up by the soft, cottin fabric of your underwear.

Before you can react, he swiftly swipes the knife across the fabric and seamlessly cutting it from your body, leaving you completely bare. You gasp at the cold air meeting the your hot skin and instinctively clenching your thighs together, only for him to push them back open and letting your bare cunt be exposed to him.

You cannot see him, but you can hear as he sighs in contentment, slowly reaching out and swiping a finger through your soaked folds, making you choke on your breath, before he pulls away and examines it as it glistens and drips down the padding of his gloves.

"God... Just look at that... I haven't even fucked you yet and you're already dripping. What a needy little whore you are." He chided, letting his fingers go back to your slit, but this time instead of collecting your juices, he sinks his thick fingers inside of you, making you whine at the burning stretch, having never taken anything larger than your own two fingers.

"Aww, what's the matter, sweetie? Does it hurt?" He asked her, his tone dripping with callous condescension as he speaks. When you nod, telling him how uncomfortable it feels, he simply laughs and continues to thrust his fingers in and out of you, enjoying the obscenely wet, sticky sound your juices make as it echoes through the room as your whines and moans grow louder.

He laughed again, pressing his fingers deeper inside of you and hitting that nerve within you that has you nearly screaming, keening into the mattress and bucking your hips wildly into his hand.

He sighs as his fingers to thrust harder inside of you, "C'mon baby, you've got this. You're doing so well, taking it like such a good girl for me. I think you deserve to come, don't you?" You nod frantically and whine, pushing your hips back into his hand.

You were so close, teetering on the edge of your orgasm when he pulled his fingers out of your sopping cunt, making you cry out in frustration. He merely smiles and begins to unzip his pants far enough to bring his cock out, running the head along your folds, soaking it in your juices.

"I'm going to have my way with you now, and if you struggle, I'll take my knife and cut you, piece by piece." He threatened before finally sliding inside of you in one, swift motion.

You hang your head low and sharply cried out at the feeling of his cock entering you, your walls immediately clenching around him and making him groan in pleasure. He doesn't give enough time to adjust before he begins thrusting into you, his pace wild and erratic.

"Fuck," he groans, grabbing you by the hair and pulling you up, so that your back touches his chest before he wraps a gloved hand around your throat and begins to squeeze, making you gasp for air and your walls to clench around his cock, his impending release starting to build up.

"Please," you whined, panting heavily as he continued to fuck you, "I think 'm gonna come... please let me come, sir."

He smiles underneath the masks and speaks, stroking your cheek again, "Why should I? Have you earned it?" You nod in desperation, practically begging him to let you come.

"Please, please, please, sir... 've been such a good girl for you, please lemme come for you." you practically sob as your walls continue to clench around him, your orgasm impending fast.

He then laughs and reaches down to rub your sensitive clit with his thumb, the latex of his gloves brushing up deliciously against your bundle of nerves, making you sob harder, "It's okay, baby... You've been so good for me, go on, let it go.."

At his words, you finally fall over the edge and your body tenses up as you let out a strained cry, your walls gripping his cock tightly, like a vice. He hisses at the feeling and quickly pulls out and flipping you over and situating you on your knees, gripping at his cock before forcing your mouth open and sliding it down your throat.

"Now, be a good little whore and suck my cock." He instructs, throwing his head back in ecstasy and groaning when he feels you begin to suck on him, taking him as far as your mouth would let him.

As he continues to thrust harshly into your mouth, he groans and grips your hair tightly, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

"Fuck, I'm going to come down your slutty little throat, sweetheart." He speaks to you mindlessly, before his abdomen tenses, his eyes roll back and he lets out a loud groan as he comes down your throat. He then looks down and slowly pulls out, letting some of his cum drip down your lips and onto your bare chest.

He then pulls away and grabs his Polaroid camera from a nearby table, looking down and pointing the lense at you, "Stick out your tongue, whore."

You obliged and slowly stick extend your tongue out for the camera before it goes off with a flash, capturing your face, dripping with his cum.

"God, you're the prettiest little slut in all of Gotham, baby."

[cannedbeefaroni]

Bloodbath & Beyond (Edward Nashton X Reader) (SMUT)

Summary: Eddie cheers you up while you're on your period.

Content: (TW) BLOOD (PERIOD BLOOD TO BE SPECIFIC), BLOOD KINK(?), period sex, reader has an increased libido during their period, P in V sex, fingering, unprotected sex, soft M/dom, Eddie being a weirdo, but also overly sweet

Y/N is referred to in second person as you/yours, but is referred to with feminine terminology at least once, and is written to have AFAB genitalia.

You couldn’t ask for a sweeter partner than Edward; he was the cutest boy you’ve ever met, with big puppy dog eyes, and he would do anything for you. He’d come over to your place as often as you’d let him, and he’d always greet you with a tight bear hug. He loved bringing you dinner after you’d come home from a long day at work. Sometimes he would surprise you with flowers, explaining that he happened to see a particularly beautiful bouquet in your favorite colors that reminded him of you. He was always at your beckon call, doting over your every need. You’d often forget that he was a terrifying killer, and not just your ideal future househusband.

One particular night he came knocking on your door, and in response he heard you yelp in surprise. Your reaction sparked fear in him, having him saying “it's okay! It’s me!” through the door to not scare you. He waited in silence for a minute before you opened the door, face flushed, hair in disarray, and wearing a t-shirt and shorts. “Aw, sweetie, you don’t look so good,” he cooed at you with a frown.

You glared up at him with tired eyes, saying “I had a long day.”

“-you wanna talk about it?” 

“Yeah,” you let him in, and he set a brown paper bag on the coffee table before taking a seat on the couch with you. You could safely assume it was dinner from the smell of food. You slumped into the couch, letting out a yawn as Edward sat patiently next to you, waiting to be spoken to. “I just got my period today. It’s pretty heavy, and on top of that I didn't sleep well last night. I felt like shit all day. I only just got home.”

“Aw…” he caressed your shoulder, leaning in closer as he laid back with you. “Do you feel sick?”

“A little,” you sighed. “Just have cramps and a bit of a migraine. I just took medicine for it.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he whispered sweetly to you.

“I just want to cuddle right now.” Edward wasted no time in wrapping you up in a full embrace. He pulled you on top of him, laying on the couch. He knew you loved laying on top of him to nap. His embrace remained tight as he feverishly kissed your forehead. You could feel yourself melting into his body, absorbing his warmth. His warm stomach pressed against yours was soothing, almost like a heat pack. His hand repetitively caressed your back, nearly soothing you to sleep. The two of you made strange whining noises as you lovingly squeezed each other, and Edward giggled softly in adoration. You found yourself dozing off for a few minutes before something was poking your leg. 

 “Eddie?”

“Mhm?” 

“Are you getting… uh…” your face radiated heat, resting against his chest. 

“Uh… I can ignore it, but is it making you uncomfortable?” he asked softly with his hand resting in your hair. 

“I- uh,” 

“I won’t ask you to do anything, I know you’re not in the mood,” he said, and it felt like a knife in the chest. 

“But I am…” you admitted, feeling ashamed even though you knew better to not be.

“Ohhh, were you in the middle of… touching yourself when I got here? It kinda seemed like it,” he asked, and you buried your head in his chest, whimpering an “mhm,” pathetically. “I thought you didn’t like having sex on your period?” he asked, seeming confused. 

“I only don’t want to because I don’t think you’d enjoy it… It would be messy and gross,” as you spoke, Edward scoffed.

“That's ridiculous. Do you really think I would be scared of the sight of blood? Me of all people?” He sounded serious but you thought it was kind of funny that you didn’t take that into account. Your face was burning red, flattered beyond belief that he seemed eager to please you even on your period. It was something entirely new to you. “If you’re so concerned about a mess, we could just do it in the shower. Would you like that, sweetheart?” He sounded like he was begging. 

“Mhm, I’d like that,” you said pensively before being swiftly picked up by your boyfriend, and your legs wrapped around his hips as he carried you to the bathroom. 

He set you down before undressing you gently. Once he pulled off your panties, he even peeled off the dirty pad, rolled it up, and threw it in the garbage for you. You giggled, but was also slightly shocked at how he wasn’t repulsed by the blood. You stepped into the shower before watching him undress himself as well, then he followed in after you. His hands came to cup your face as he kissed you tenderly. You felt needy as your mouth eagerly opened for his tongue, accepting his wet sloppy kisses. He was already half hard, and you could feel him brush against your crotch. His hand traveled down your body, brushing over your sensitive breast and stomach before finding its way to your clit, rubbing it in circles. You gasped loudly at the feeling, and tried to hold back your moans. Your hips twitched and your breathing became sloppy. You were way too quick to begin moving up against his fingers, and he noticed. His fingers dipped into your pussy with ease, and you cried out in pleasure as he was quick to figure the location of your g-spot based on your reactions to his movement. His long fingers pumped in and out of you as he held the back of your head with his other hand, kissing you over and over again. 

“My good girl,” he whispered against your lips over your intense whimpering. His head dipped down into the crook of your neck, leaving kisses and bites. He licked over the sensitive bite marks after leaving them, and continued kissing down your chest to your nipple. He licked around your areola before placing his lips on it to suck on your tender breast. His free hand went to gently massage the other as he continued fingering you, and you continued moaning with increasing volume. You were way more reactive than usual, especially to having your breasts touched. You were crying out from the overstimulation, and your legs began to wobble. “My baby is so needy, aren’t you?” he cooed at you in a whisper. 

“Eddie, please, I’m gonna- I’m-” you stuttered through heavy pants. 

“Not yet, please, I want you to cum while I’m inside,” he said in a raspy voice, looking up at you. He pulled his fingers out of you and stood back up to tower over you. He held up his hand to look at it, covered in your blood. It was bright red and sticky, as it was mixed with your vaginal discharge. The way it stained his hand, however, was similar to regular blood, minus the small clumps. It had a heavy odor, which he was extremely embarrassed to admit to himself was intoxicating to him. He was always obsessed with your scent, to the point of wanting to sniff your dirty clothes and panties. Though he worried about your judgment, he couldn’t stop himself from bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting your blood. You stared at him wide eyed as he eagerly sucked his fingers with his eyes blissfully closed. It tasted like you, but it also tasted more metallic. His arm hooked under your leg, bringing it to wrap around his waist. He pulled you in as close as possible, holding you tightly. You couldn’t find any words to say as the two of you stared into each other's eyes in yearning. You could feel his dick prodding at your entrance, and he eventually grabbed it and guided it into you. His hips rutted into yours, making you cry out viscerally. Edward wasted no time and began fucking you hard. The added wetness made it feel even better than usual. You let him fuck you as hard as he pleased while your body rested against him, letting him take control. He grunted and whimpered with each thrust as he completely lost all composure. His movements were sloppy as he pulled your hair, bringing your eyes to meet his before he kissed your lips with his fingers still grasping your hair. He pulled you by your hair back and stared at you before asking, “do you like this?” with a breathless voice. 

“M-mhm,” you struggled to answer through moans. 

“What was that?” he teased, pretending to not hear you. 

“I- I love it! It’s so good,” you whined as his cock continued pumping inside you mercilessly. His hands moved down your body to grab your ass. His nails dug into the skin as he pushed himself as deep as possible into you. 

“You nearly came instantly. You never finish that quickly. Why didn’t you tell me you get this horny on your period?” he asked brutally through grunts. 

“I was embarrassed- I- I thought it was weird and gross,” you whimpered. Edward frowned in response as he looked at you with sad eyes. 

“I’ll do anything for you. I’ll fuck you whenever you want, sweetie. I wanna take care of my pretty baby,” he panted roughly as his dick twitched inside of you. You could tell he was getting close, and feeling that was pushing you over the edge as well. “-and you’re beautiful. You’re never gross.”

“Eddie, I’m so close,” you cried as you held onto him tightly, letting him fuck you at a brutal pace. 

“Already? My poor baby, you must’ve been so pent up. It's okay sweetie, you can cum now. You can cum for me-” he whispered so sweetly in your ear as his cock pushed you over the edge. Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clenched around him, crying out from the intensity. He whimpered “yes, yes, yes” as his dick was being viced. Your legs shook as Edward held onto you tightly, making sure you wouldn’t fall. He kissed your lips intensely as he stayed inside you, letting you ride out your high. You kissed him back, holding him dearly. 

“I wanna keep going until you cum too…” 

“Where do you want me to finish?” he whispered as his lips grazed the side of your face. 

“Inside… please,” you admitted a little shamefully. 

You heard his breath hitch in response. You felt his hands on your sides, shaking in excitement, gently turning you to face the shower door. He had you lean against it as he got you to bend over for him, arching your back and sticking your ass up for him. His hands grabbed each side of your waist tightly. Looking down at himself, the image of his cock covered in your blood was burning into his mind. He slid back into you, filling you up perfectly. You pressed up against the shower door as you looked back up at him, watching him admire your body with adoration before he began moving in and out of you. You arched your back in rhythm with his movements, making your ass slap against his skin, and pulling yourself almost all the way off of him before slamming back down on his base. He leaned forward and began pounding you ruthlessly. His nails were digging into your waist as he forced you to take his dick. He whined viscerally from the added wetness of your period, and the tightness from your orgasm. 

“Oh my god- you’re so good. You feel so good sweetie- I- fuck, I need to fill you up. F-fill you up with everything I’ve got,” he dirty talked to you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. 

“Please- please, I need it, please, Eddie,” you whimpered through being pushed into the wall with thrusts. Your moans were way too loud, and you knew you were going to get noise complaints for this, but you didn’t really care. His hands ran up to your breasts, grabbing them firmly. He felt the weight of your tits in his hands, feeling how they bounced in reaction to his movements. Then his hands moved to your neck, wrapping around it so gently before grabbing it with force, making you take his cock as deep as possible. 

“Oh god, I never wanna stop- I wanna be this close to you forever. I want to crawl inside your skin and live inside you until the end of time. Sweetheart, you’re my angel, my dove, my sweet songbird. I’m gonna fill you up like you deserve,” he rambled almost incoherently. His voice was whiny, and sounded like he was about to cry. He thrusted into you as hard as possible as he groaned in stutters. You gasped, feeling his hot seed spill into you as his cock twitched. He was slowly pumping his dick into you, getting everything out. He lifted one of your legs by your thigh and wrapped his other arm around you, letting your body rest against his. Edward panted heavily against your ear as your head rested on his shoulder. You turned your head to look up at him, and he did the same to you before deeply kissing you. Pulling away, you realized he was near tears.

“Eddie, are you okay?” you frowned, turning a little to face him better. You caressed his cheek, and he leaned his head into you as his lips tightened into a smile. 

He didn’t respond at first, he just sniffled before hugging you tightly, burying his face in your hair. It sounded like he was laughing and sobbing all at once. You hugged him back, caressing his back to soothe him. Through a sob, he said “thank you.”

“Thank you too,” you said meekly, feeling a little awkward. He giggled as he kissed your forehead. 

“Did I satisfy your needs for tonight?” he said somewhat robotically, and you were kinda unsure whether he was doing it on purpose for a joke or he just worded himself awkwardly. 

“Mhm. You were perfect, Eddie. You always are,” you hummed sweetly, and he chuckled gleefully in response. 

“As long as you’re happy, I’ve fulfilled my purpose,” he rocked you in his arms. “Come on, sweetie, let’s wash off and go to bed. It’s getting late.”

[allzelemonz]

Dark Side: Edward Nygma X Male Reader

Prompt: Request, bottom reader with 'Riddler mode' Ed Pronouns: None Mentioned Physical Sex: AMAB Rating: E/Smut Warnings: Edward Nygma's darker side, rough sex, soft Ed at the end, he's arguing with himself, counter sex Summary: When you come home Ed's apartment is a mess and you find your boyfriend a bit out of sorts. It's nothing you can't handle.

It’s easy to tell what kind of Edward Nygma you’ll be presented with once you walk in the door. Ed is relatively neat and quiet. He may be making tea or reading or maybe fiddling with some new fixation when you come home. This new, darker side of Ed is different, the Riddler is different. He leaves a mess and does not work quietly at all. When you open the door and the Riddler’s mind is working, it sends a very clear message.

When you roll open the door that message is there. Papers litter the floor as if they were thrown into the air or some other act of frustration akin to Ed’s darker half. Your eyes catch on a knife left on the countertop, the light reflecting off of it in a way that makes it hard to miss. You set your things in their usual place and move toward the center of the room. The knife left out has a bit of blood on the edge.

Your focus turns to the bathroom when you hear something fall. The light is on and the door is ajar. Ed must have cut himself making dinner. There are greens strewn across a cutting board, but most of them are on the floor with the papers now. Something else falls in the bathroom and Ed yells something, but it’s muffled by walls.

“Ed, I’m home…”

Your declaration brings silence in its wake. Ed stops yelling and the bathroom door creaks open.

“When did you get here?”

Ed certainly isn’t himself. It’s clear this is his ‘dark side’ talking. His voice is a bit deeper, darker. His glasses aren’t on his face and now you know he’s been talking to -- yelling at -- himself in the mirror again.

“Just now, you okay?”

He chuckles, “You mean, ‘is Ed okay?’”

“You’re Ed” You raise an eyebrow and attempt a smile.

He is Ed. A twisted and dark version of your boyfriend that may or may not send shivers up your spine, but he’s still Ed.

“Oh,” He smiles. “He wishes he was me.”

“Are you gonna answer my question?”

He takes a step toward you and you mirror him, stepping back. He grins at your reaction and follows you until you run into the counter behind you. He presses himself into you, his hand resting on the back of your head to make you look at him.

“Ed’s never made you feel like this.”

“Ed-”

He shushes you and his knee presses between your legs. His lips press against yours and his other hand squeezes at your waist. The shiver in your spine turns warm to match the rising temperature in your body. He moves both of his hands to unfasten your pants. He turns you around, pressing your stomach flat against the counter as pulls down both your underwear and pants.

The sudden and somewhat forceful contact with the counter has left you trying to catch your breath. Just as air is able to reenter your lungs it’s ushered out by the jarring feeling of Ed’s wet fingers entering you. He wastes no time in adding another and stretching you out with harsh motions. Ed, the not-so-dark Ed, is much softer than this. He can be rough, but not like this.

There’s a quiet sound of a zipper and a few seconds later there is some sense of familiarity. As different as they are, it’s still Ed that’s lining his dick up to fuck you into the counter. Every inch that presses you, that makes your hips push against the cabinets, is as familiar as ever. Not as familiar is the twitch you feel as you realize how much your own hardness aches. When he’s settled and buried deep inside of you, he takes your arms and pulls them behind you back. There’s a light pain in your shoulders as he twists your arms in his hold.

“You know he’s screaming right now, he thinks I’m going to hurt you.” He jerks your arm back and you groan at the slight pain. “I might, if you ask nicely.”

Every other sensation is rendered to nothing as Ed starts to pull out and push back in. With each thrust he speeds up and you try to pull at his hold on your arms to steady yourself against the countertop, but his grip is completely sound.

“Are you scared of me?” He whispers in your ear.

You attempt a response, but all that comes out is a whimper as he hits just the right spot inside of you.

“I bet you are.” He slows his pace as he leans down to press a kiss to the skin behind your ear. “But I also bet that when Ed told you he had a ‘dark side’, you fantasized about this.”

“Ed, please.”

“What?” He chuckles.

“Faster.”

He obliges without another word, slamming into you again and again as you try to press your dick against the cabinets to get some kind of friction. He reads your movements and reaches a hand down to pump in time with his thrusts. It only takes a few more seconds of his relentless fucking for you to release. He keeps going, chasing his own high now. Just as you come down from bliss you can feel his grip on you tighten as he cums inside of you. His head dips down and rests against your shoulder as he softens and his hold on your arms ends.

“Are you alright?” Ed asks.

Not the darker side of Ed, just your regular Edward Nygma. There’s a bit of a crack in his voice, like he’s on the verge of tears. His face is buried in your shirt and he’s probably scared to move until he’s sure you’re okay.

“I’m fine, Ed.”

“Oh thank God.” He sighs.

He, very slowly, pulls out of you and helps you stand. Your legs are wobbly and there’s a feeling of dull pain where you were repeatedly pushed -- slammed more so -- into the counter. But the feeling that lingers over you is something like a tangible glow. You don’t ever want it to go away.

“Did he hurt you?” Ed asks, his eyes trying to catch yours.

“Yeah,” You groan and Ed worriedly looks you over. “But, I kind of liked it.”

“You, you -- What?”

“It’s okay, Ed.”

“I’m just having some trouble understanding.”

You smile at him, placing a hand on his cheek. “He’s your darker half, that’s all. He’s still you.”

Ed looks at you, lost still. You press a kiss to his lips and rest your forehead against his.

“Let’s lay down and I’ll explain it to you, okay.”

Ed nods silently and you both lie down in bed. Not much talking actually takes place. Ed just likes to hold you close. In the back of his mind, visible only to him, his darker half lays across from you with an unwavering smirk.

[fatgumsurpremacy-remastered]

Thank you for being one of the few blogs out there willing to write yandere Riddler 😭😭😭 if you don’t mind, maybe some nsfw headcannons for Arkham knight riddler?

Yesss!!!

Tw: hair pulling kink, oral sex, voice kink, restraints, vibrators, spanking, slight dacryiphillia, soft aftercare.

•He doesn’t like being touched, but he will get like- extra horny if you pull his hair. He loves anything to do with your touch in his hair.

•He uses your hole as stress relief almost constantly. The likes grabbing and pushing at your legs so he can get a good angle at you. He loves the way you taste more than anything.

•As far as I’m concerned he does NOT like breeding, you won’t have to worry about kids, or cleanup. He takes extra precautions so that there won’t be even more of a mess around him.

•Thing about Eddie though- he doesn’t enjoy penetration. It makes him feel too hot, and it’s generally not his favorite things. He does- love how wonderfully you look under him though. The little whines you let out whenever you’re close, any gasps that may arise as he uses his silver to he to quell your worries.

•As a yandere he doesn’t have too many exclusive kinks, his punishments aren’t sexual unless it’s sure to work.

•He loves loves loves spanking. Laying you across his lap and making you say such filthy things while he gets hard and listens to your cries.

•Has a thing for restraints, not so much tying you up, as much- as chaining to the wall. One of his favorite things to do is mess with his little handheld vibrator and see how you squirm against them.

•His hearts wide open during sex, and he feels he needs to be completely honest whenever he’s in the moment. This is after any foreplay. During all the passion. He mummers such sweet words into your ear it’s almost painful.

•Eddie’s soft spot is only you. It’s one of the reasons he’s so gentle. He doesn’t wanna scare you away. He’s very considerate with aftercare, and he always makes sure you’re okay. He wants reassurance but he understands if you don’t wanna give him any.

[capr1pengu1n]

No because I just know Edward Nygma can't shut the fuck up during sex

(18+, fem reader, mild degredation)

He always has something to say, about everything. About how his cup of coffee wasn't made precisely to his liking, how much the other rogues infuriate him with their ineptitudes that he of course could never relate to, and of course, how good it feels to rail into your tight wet cunt.

Or perhaps a better way to put it is how grateful you must feel that he chose your tight wet cunt to fuck into (and practically worship).

"I-Isn't it so good...for you to be like this? In my bed...fuck, in the bed of someone like me. Being used by someone like me?"

You're almost too blissed out to register what he's saying, on your front with your eyes blurry and unfocused. Some nights he'd make you respond to him, a sharp tug on your hair or a slap bringing you back to earth. Although there are times where he simply doesn't mind you being too fucked-out to confirm his words, after all, he knows they're true.

"You love it...love being fucked by a man of my position. The smartest f-fucking man in Gotham...and he chose you."

With faltering rhythm, it just speeds up the filth that pours from his mouth and the bruising grip he has on your hips.

"Such a slut...love getting used by a criminal. Used by the riddler...a-all for my-shit. All for myself. What a privilege..."

He'd cum with a grunt, your face in the pillows as all you could do was whine and take it. After a few blissful moments he'd pull out, always liking to take a look at his handiwork. At how ruined only he could make you.

You hadn't cum yet, and there was no way he'd leave you unsatisfied. He'd debate latching his mouth onto your wet heat, cleaning up the mess he'd forced into you, but with a smile he'd flip you onto your back and push two fingers inside, curling them just right and leaning down towards your ear.

After all, he always has something else to say.

[finniestoncrane]

Portrait Session

Capullo!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1k commission: artist reader is propositioned by edward nygma to paint a portrait of him showcasing all his best features... 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: non-consensual nudity from eddie but is that really a negative? plus some suggestive stuff

Usually, the end of the day was your favourite time in the studio. There was something soothing about tidying up and cleaning things away. It provided that sense of completion, even if you hadn’t manage to get very far in any pieces through the hours you’d spent there. So it was more irritating than anything else when you were suddenly interrupted as you washed your brushes in the sink. You could smell the overly fragrant cologne before you could feel the hand over your mouth, feel the warmth of the breath before the words were whispered into your ear.

“Ok… don’t do anything stupid… because we know how this goes… just, turn around slowly and I might uncover your mouth, ok?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes as you placed the voice. Nothing surprised you much in Gotham anymore, and very little scared you. But there was one thing that you found annoying, more than anything else, and now you were face to face with it.

“Edward Nygma, The Riddler, but of course, you know who I am.”

He flashed a grin and let go of your mouth.

“Yep. Very aware of you.”

“Oh, a fan, hm?”

He raised his eyebrows a few times, smiling at you with a lewd grin.

“Hardly. How did you get in here?”

“I’m The Riddler, idiot. That’s what you’re wondering? Not why I’m here, or what I might do to you?”

He winked and you felt your eyes roll again. Everything about him bothered you, and to be perfectly honest you would rather he killed you or knocked you out to steal whatever he might need, anything to stop him from talking.

“Ok, fine. Enlighten me.”

“Well, you never replied to my email enquiry. So I thought I’d stop by in person.”

“Oh! Yes! I remember that…”

A few weeks ago, you had received a curious email regarding the potential for you to capture the likeness of him in a portrait. You had initially thought it might be a scam, or a prank, but the ludicrous amount of compliments regarding his own features, and the horribly self-indulgent signature which was filled with riddles and more compliments, assured you that it might be genuine. And of course, if it was, you wanted nothing to do with it.

“So you did read it. And you chose not to respond to me?”

“Yep. Don’t get told ‘no’ often, huh?”

“Not by anyone that matters. And ordinarily, you definitely wouldn’t matter. But… your art is… different. Better. I like it. And I really, really want you to paint me.”

You shook your head silently, but he kept pleading.

“Come on! I can make it worth your while. Very worth your while.”

“I doubt that very much.”

Ignoring the suggestive grin on his face, you chose to take a look down his body, letting your gaze linger on his crotch as you served your cutting response.

“Ouch. But I was actually thinking monetarily, for once.”

Taking a quick look around the studio, you considered what a little bit of extra cashflow could do for you. New paints, new materials, restock the cabinets. Maybe add a skylight if he was feeling extra generous.

“Ok… fine. I’ll paint your portrait. Let me get my things set up and we can bash this out as quickly as possible.”

“That’s usually how I operate.”

Scoffing at him, you turned to grab your supplies, some brushes, a canvas, some paints, and when you returned your gaze to Edward Nygma, you found him shirtless and removing his pants.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Uh… duh?”

He spread his arms out to the side, displaying his undressed form to you as his pants slid down his waist, leaving him in just his underwear.

“You’re gonna paint me nude.”

“I am?”

He threw his head back, sighing in exasperation.

“It really is me looking at my best, and I’m sure you’ll agree once you’ve seen me in all of my glory.”

You covered your eyes with your hand and turned your head slightly as Eddie removed his underwear, but you stole a quick glance at him before he told you to open your eyes. Facing him completely, you blinked a few times to adjust to the view.

“Well… see anything you like?”

Annoyingly, you did. He was slim, not toned, with a soft patch of red chest hair, and another patch of the same bright hue around his flaccid cock. And as he grinned, the self-satisfied smirk that usually irritated you, you found yourself blushing slightly.

“Let’s just get started now, come on.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Not quite yet, still got one more thing to do.”

He reached down to his cock, gripping it in his hand, and began to stroke it.

“Woah! Hey! What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m not going to have a portrait painted where I’m not looking my best or biggest.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’ll just be a second. Maybe you could… help me out?”

You let out an incredulous laugh, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Suit yourself then.”

It was hard to take your eyes off of him as he stroked his cock, and you could see in your peripheral that he was staring intently back at you. Eventually though, the pleasure had taken precedent, and his eyes were closing as he let his mouth fall open. Soft sighs spilled out as his hand moved up and down his swiftly growing length quicker. You could tell he was reaching climax, which definitely wasn’t the point of this at all. And you knew, unfortunately, you should step in to prevent this from going any further.

“Ok… are you ready to start now, Mister Nygma?”

“Sure am, and I’m ready for some other things too.”

With another wink, he looked down to his cock, smiling back at you, a hopeful tone to his words. If he kept this up, you’d be here a lot longer than it would take you just to finish the painting.

[2-guns-b1tch]

Talk To Me

Arkham! Riddler × FemaleReader

🔞Minors DNI!!!

This is my first fanfiction about Riddler and I am very excited to be writing about him because I am obsessing about everything relating to Batman! Some dialogues will be based on Arkham Asylum and Arkham Knight tapes. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1/ A03

The ticking of the clock is the only sound that fills the room. You keep your eyes fixed on the pointer, anxiety consuming you inside. At any moment your patient would arrive. At any moment, Edward Nygma, better known as the Riddler, would be brought into his therapy session with you.

You can't help but blink with the brightness of the ceiling lights. No windows at sight, just four concrete walls around you. Everything was too cold and artificial, too distant from coziness. The therapy room felt more like an interrogation room. It was clear why no patient would open up during the sessions.

Your hand closes around your left forearm and you feel the familiar urge to scratch the skin there. Instead, you breathe deeply a few times until your mind is clear, preferring to poke the cuticle of your nails.

Your eyes turn again to your files, studying the name “Edward Nygma" written in large letters on the cover. You flip through the pages quickly, checking if you hadn't forgotten anything.

You shake your head, closing it. That was just nervousness trying to speak louder than reason. You were ready, you had studied for days, you prepared the sessions carefully. You needed to be confident, even more so in the presence of someone like Nygma. You couldn't show weaknesses.

A siren sounds as the heavy metal door opens and you move your gaze in his direction, watching as Nygma was escorted by a guard to the chair in front of you.

Despite the prisoner's clothing, the chains around his wrists, and the fact that he was accompanied by a guard, he was far less intimidating than you thought.

He didn't resemble the man you'd read about. He might tower over you with his height, but his slender silhouette wasn't particularly threatening. His brown hair was a little messy and a pair of glasses landed on his nose.

Nygma didn't look like the monster people described. No psychotic gaze or evil laughter. In fact, he had a bored expression on his face, slightly annoyed, as if he didn't want to be there.

"Thank you, sir," you say to the guard as Edward sits down. "You can go now."

"Are you sure, Doctor? He can be very difficult sometimes," you notice how Nygma rolls his eyes. "Won't you need help?"

"No, I have everything under control and I want Mr. Nygma to be comfortable during our session."

"Alright, then. You have 30 minutes." The guard warns before leaving, the door lock being triggered after it is closed.

Even though you're locked in the same room as one of Gotham's most dangerous men, you don't feel fear. You almost wanted to laugh at your foolishness. Edward was just a man. He was palpable, made of flesh, bone and blood just like you. Of course he had done bad things, but that could be solved with medical treatment, which is why you were there.

You smiled at him, your fingers entwined in front of you. "Good morning, Mr. Nygma. It's a pleasure to finally meet you," you say in a gentle tone, saying your name next. "I'll be your therapist in the next few months, so we'll see each other quite often."

He settles against the metal chair. "Of course it's a pleasure to meet me, Doctor. It's not often you can meet someone with my intellect," he huffs a laugh. "And I don't imagine we'll see each other that often, most of the therapists I've met here have lasted two weeks. Apparently their small minds can't handle a mind such as mine."

You just nod your head, writing on your clipboard the words "self-centered?", "narcissist? " and "megalomaniac?". You had started well.

"First I would like to make it clear that this is a safe space, Mr. Nygma. You have the freedom to say what you have in your mind, but if you don't feel comfortable, you have every right to remain silent. I'm here to help you."

He crosses his arms, the chains tinkling with the movement. "Oh, Doctor. You don't have the ability to help me, and besides, I don't need help from anyone. But it's still adorable that you try."

You cross out the question marks, putting an exclamation at the end of each word.

"It's a shame you think like this, Mr. Nygma. Everyone needs help sometimes."

"Why would I need help from someone below me? You're totally misguided if you think anyone will ever make it to my level.”

"Well, since you don't need my help at the moment, I'd like you to help me with something then."

Edward raises an eyebrow in his direction. "You need... my help?"

"You see," you grab his file, pretending to look for something in particular. "What I've read about you is very superficial, I'd like you to help me understand a few things."

"I'm usually the one asking the questions, but... Go on." He was still distrustful, but at least it looked like you had caught his attention.

"Here it says that you have vast knowledge about engineering and computing, and for a period of time you were a member of the Cybercrime Division of the GCPD. That's impressive."

"I'm aware of my genius, thank you. But your point is?"

"Well, what drives a brilliant man like you to throw that away?"

"Throw it away?" he tosses his head back in a laugh, as if there's a joke only he's aware of. "I didn't throw anything away, Doctor! That place limited my abilities, trapped me with fools. Gotham needed my help, so that's what I did."

"What exactly did you do, Mr. Nygma?"

"I don't expect you to understand, but Gotham has a long history of corruption, older than you and me," Edward stands up, the chair creaking behind him. You try to keep your face relaxed, showing concern would make him think he has some power over you. "The people in power are all stupid. I just wanted to improve the city’s standing, trim it of its corrupt and worthless politicians! That was my plan until the Bat showed up and ruined everything." He sits up again, his shoulders slumped.

"I plan to talk about Batman in our next sessions, for today, I just want to talk about you." You quickly jot down the name of the vigilante, circling it several times. That would be a sensitive topic, but very important to Edward's journey.

"Do you need me to clarify anything else about me, Doctor?" Nygma asks with sarcasm in his voice, pushing his glasses up his nose.

"It also says here that your last name used to be 'Nashton'. Why did you decide to change it?"

"I thought it was obvious, but I suppose not everyone thinks like me. You see, in addition to matching my new persona, it's also a wordplay. Edward Nygma abbreviated is E. Nygma."

"Very clever, but is there no reason beyond that? Don't you get upset about having to lose your father's last name? Usually people tend to have an attachment to these things."

For a second, his eyebrows furrow and he looks away. Maybe that reaction had to do with the mention of his father, or it might be nothing, but you needed to dig deeper.

Edward clears his throat. "No, those are the only reasons."

You write "Troubled childhood? Difficult relationship with parents?". If Edward wasn't ready to open up yet you wouldn't push him, preferring to save those hypotheses for the next sessions.

"Thank you for being so understandable so far, Mr. Nygma. Now, I'd like to know how your staying here in Arkham is going."

"Please, Doctor. If your questions are over you don't need to make small talk with me. I'd even appreciate it if this ended soon."

You shake your head. "I need to know if you're being treated well here. The therapy won't work if you're in a troubled environment."

"You're new here, aren't you?" And you’re very naive too, apparently," he leans in your direction, whispering like he's telling you a secret. "This is Arkham, Doctor. As long as the degenerates and crazy are out of sight of Gotham's good citizens, then that's no one's problem anymore. And the worst part," his fists clench on the table. "It's that they think I deserve to be here! A genius like me trapped among savages! Nobody cares."

"That's not true, Edward," you place your hand over his. "I care."

Edward pulls away from your touch as if it burned him. "Don't touch me!" he screams. "You think your compliments may deceive me, but you're just like the others. Don't lie to me!"

You knew that the guards were watching everything through the security camera and if the patient lost control you had to follow the protocol and press a button under the table for them to come and control him. But if someone intervened you would lose any chance of gaining Edward's trust.

"Please calm down, Edward. I understand your distrust, but I just want to help you," you raise your hands but don't move closer, keeping your voice calm. "Forgive me for touching you without your permission, I've crossed the line. That's not going to happen again."

His chest rises and falls in deep breaths, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. His eyes seem lost, wandering quickly around the room but never stopping at you.

"Tell me about your routine. What do you usually do during the day?" you ask, trying to regain his attention.

"I-i," he swallows dryly, moving his eyes to your face. "They bring them meals to my cell. I can only go out to take showers and during some hours for socializing."

"Do you talk to the others patients?"

"No, I don't waste my time with any of these brutes. They don't have anything interesting to say." His confident mask comes back again, an attempt to take control of the situation. At least he seemed to be calming down a bit.

"And the guards, do they treat you well? It's important that you feel safe."

"Safe? No one feels safe in here, Doctor. But at least they don't hit me, if that's what you want to know."

You check the clock on the wall, realizing that the time limit had already passed.

"All right, our session ends here, but if anything happens, I need you to tell me. Your well-being is one of my priorities."

He laughs, shaking his head. "It's stupid that you think you have any control in here. But if you insist, I'll keep you updated."

You smile sincerely at him. "Thank you, Edward. That's very important to me. Until next session."

He doesn't say goodbye when the guard comes to pick him up, but keeps his eyes on you until he leaves, as if he's searching for something. Something hidden inside you.

——

The sound of your heels echoes down the hallway as you walk toward Director Quincy Sharp's office. Since the Arkham Asylum had reopened all new staff had to make monthly updates on their progress to their superiors and you were no exception.

Luckily the session with Nygma ended on time, since you had to take the longest route to get to Sharp's office.

For some reason your access card only allowed you to circulate through some areas of the asylum, so you ended taking longer travels, but safer. Well, at least that's what the guards told you.

You stop in front of the office door, taking a deep breath before knocking on it.

Sharp's ever-solemn voice sounds behind it, telling you to come in. You push open the door, realizing that Dr. Young was already there as well.

Quincy Sharp's office didn't fail to give you goosebumps. The dim light cast shadows on the room, making it even darker. A woody, antique smell lingered on the furniture, and beyond that, the Director's portraits and statues made you feel watched, as if their eyes were following you. And people thought Nygma was self-centered.

You offer them a small smile, but both the Director and Dr. Young maintain a professional and serious expression. The air in the room feels heavy, almost suffocating.

Even though you were there a few times you couldn't help but curl up against the chair, the skin of your forearm tingling underneath your lab coat.

Quincy clears his throat before he starts speaking. "Glad you've arrived, Doctor. Dr. Young and I were talking about you. Tell me, how is your experience here at the asylum?" the smile on his face is almost gentle, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, like it was something rehearsed.

You clasp your fingers over your lap, trying to ignore the urge to dig your nails into your arm. "It's has been very educational, Mr. Sharp. I thank you immensely for the opportunity."

As much as Arkham had a reputation for dealing with Gotham's most dangerous criminals, you were lucky to have been hired, especially since you didn't have as much experience on your resume. After all, you wanted to help people, that's why you had majored in psychology, so you would do your best no matter where you were.

And even though your superiors were a little distant and cold, you had clung to Dr. Young. She was the head of research at the asylum, a genial woman who could even be kind at times. You were lucky that she decided to take you under her wing as a pupil, guiding you through her research and discoveries. You hoped to be like her one day.

You keep going. "The staff are great and my fellow therapists have been very helpful, but... I have some complaints."

Sharp's thoughtful gaze falters for a second, but the smile remains on his face. Beside him, Dr. Young settles into her chair.

"And what would it be exactly?" Quincy asks.

"Well, I haven't had a chance to get to know the rest of the asylum yet. My card is restricted to only a few spaces and I would very much like to see the patient area." You explain.

You hated how ungrateful you felt. After everything Dr. Young had done, you looked like a child having a tantrum.

Deep down, you know this guilt is ridiculous. In addition to decreasing your walking time, you needed to check for yourself the rooms and the living areas. Even though many there had committed horrific crimes they still deserved to be treated as people, the patients needed a stable environment to improve.

Dr. Young shakes her head, placing a hand on your shoulder. "At the moment it's not possible. The asylum is overloaded with patients and it would be dangerous to walk through some areas."

"I understand, but if only I could make a quick visit. It can be in the living areas or-”

Quincy interrupts you with a wave of his hand. "Please, Doctor," his voice sounds more serious and firm, his gaze fixed on you "don't insist on it. This would be reckless and would likely cause turmoil among the inmates. And we don't want that, do we?"

You swallow dryly, shaking your head. "No sir, I'm sorry. I just wanted to get to know the asylum better." A warmth spreads across your face and you stare at your own hands like a child who has been scolded.

"Don't worry, you'll have that chance," Dr. Young says. "Why don't you tell us about your first session with Mr. Nygma?"

"Oh, of course," you take a deep breath, "Well, let's see. He definitely has a megalomaniac complex, like you said, and despite having some violent tendencies, I think he has a great chance of recovering."

"I think the best decision would be to end his obsession with riddles." Dr. Young suggests.

"That's the right thing to do," Sharp says. "He's been leaving some threatening riddles on the walls of the asylum. We don't know exactly where he gets the materials to do that."

"Maybe we could try to redirect his interest. Puzzles and riddles are a very important part of Nygma, to take that away from him would be cruel." You argue.

"These riddles of his have brought nothing but trouble to people. We should nip this evil in the bud as soon as possible." Sharp punctuates his argument by tapping his finger against the hard surface of the table.

As much as you have several arguments going through your mind, the oppressive environment of the room doesn’t allow you to say anything at the moment. You decide to save your ideas for another time, when you could talk to Dr. Young alone.

"That's all I have to say for now. I'll have other sessions with Nygma soon and will bring new updates." You explain, wishing you could finally escape.

"Alright then, you are dismissed," Sharp says. "Have a nice day, Doctor."

You let out a heavy sigh as the door closes behind you.

You stare into your own hands, noticing a slight tremor in them. You need to clench your fists, breathing deeply to try to contain the nervousness in your chest.

It's almost comical how a simple meeting with your bosses has this effect on you, while talking to a criminal makes you less anxious.

——

You finally get home, sighing in relief after spending hours stuck in traffic.

Before you can turn on the lights, excited meows greet you with joy as Meg rubs herself against your legs.

"Hello, love," you take her in your arms, letting her nestle her head against your cheek. "Sorry for leaving you alone for so long, today was a long day."

Your keys clink with each turn you make on the three locks of your door, passing the bolt last. Even if you had enough money to live in a safe neighborhood, Gotham was still a dangerous city and it was better to be safe than sorry.

You finish taking off your lab coat, leaving it in the hanger next to the entrance.

"Are you hungry?" You ask, walking Meg to the kitchen and putting her on the countertop.

She meows insistently, excited at the idea of food. "I know, baby. Mommy is a monster for starving her baby." You tease, filling her bowl.

It was nice to have someone to take care of, who looked forward to your return home. Ever since Meg came into your life your anxiety had improved and she always made the lonely moments less heavy. You needed her as much as she needed you, maybe even more.

Your fingers scratch her lower back while the other hand pulls the recorder from your pocket, keeping it close to your mouth.

"First session with the patient, Edward Nygma, also known as Riddler. It is already obvious that the patient presents a narcissistic and megalomaniacal complex, needing at all times to demean me as well as others to show his superiority. It still takes more time to determine if this complex comes from a place of low self-esteem. Also, Edward has sudden mood swings and is mildly paranoid," you clear your throat before continuing. "Although Dr. Young thinks Nygma's obsession with puzzles is bad, I think we can redirect it to something healthier. Reminder to buy him a puzzle book," you stare at Meg's cans of food inside the cupboard, counting them quickly. "Reminder to buy more cat food too."

[acapelladitty]

Dano!Riddler/Reader - Bidding

Summary: Kidnapped and restrained by the serial killer known as the Riddler, you find that he has a much more terrible plan in place for you to entertain his followers. (TW: non-con, voyeurism, implied abuse, kidnapping)

"Bidding won't start for another ten minutes." Your captors voice rang out unseen, his heavy footsteps clattering noisily behind you as thick, leather boots paced the wooden flooring. "So, get your ideas in. Remember who her father is. Remember the damage he’s wreaked on this city. Revenge will never be so sweet."

Vision blurring due to the fat tears that refused to cease rolling down your cheeks, the red, blinking light of the video camera which sat atop the tripod sparked fresh terror and shame in your chest as you imagine the droves of perverted freaks who were watching the livestream.

Muffled cries, the words blocked by the thick fabric gag of your own panties, were the only sounds you could manage between the shuddering sobs that made breathing difficult. Stripped and bound against the wooden chair, the cold air of the filthy, cluttered room licked at your skin and your nipples puckered despite themselves.

"Look," the voice of the Riddler rang out again but this time against your ear, the close proximity making you startle in place, "she's excited at the thought. Look at how peaked they are at the thought of all the things you're going to pay to have done to them."

Thick, gloved hands pluck at your nipples, gripping and roughly pulling at the sensitive nubs until your back is arching from the chair as your gag swallows down your pained screams. No one had ever touched you like this before. It wasn't right. It wasn't-

"Smile for the camera, whore. Show them all how excited you are."

Sobbing behind the gag, you're too frozen in place to follow his instructions and you can tell he's unhappy as his hands release your chest. "Hmm, a disobedient little bitch? Too stuck up to listen to someone who knows better? You and people like you are what’s wrong with his city. A disease."

His hand presses down harshly on your stomach as his masked face swims into view before you, anger radiating from his manic eyes. Despite that, a visible gleam of satisfaction sparks in his gaze as he takes in the fear that must be shining from your own tear-stained face and he maintains eye-contact as his hand drops to your spread cunt - the restrains pinning your calves to the chair legs making any attempt to close your thighs impossible.

Shifting off to the side, he uses his fingers to spread your slit, exposing your entire sex to the camera like he were showcasing cattle.

"10% discount for any bids that involve this most sensitive little bit of flesh here. I think this bitch needs some encouragement to accept that she needs to pay for her sins. What do we think?"

Fighting past the gag, you manage to unleash a short cry as his fingers fumble messily to pinch your clit, viciously tugging at the small bundle of nerves and hood until they were reddened and sore - every rough brush of his leather feeling like hell as you writhe in place.

(I'm split on whether or not to continue this further but I'll leave it up to y'all since I'm truly indecisive about it.)

[sister-lucifer]

Inspire Me

Edward Nygma A.K.A. The Riddler x Male Reader

(This was inspired and technically written with The Riddler from Batman: The Audio Adventures in mind, but I feel like any version of Eddie works here) 

Genre: Smut

Summary: Edward has caught an unfortunate case of writer’s block, but he can always count on you to inspire him

Content/Warnings: Riding, praise, pet names, Edward cums inside 

Like my writing? I take requests! NSFW or SFW for any fandoms in my bio! 

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Feedback is encouraged and appreciated:)

Not fully proofread! Let me know if you see any errors!

“Nothing, nothing, nothing!” 

Edward’s frustrated voice reverberated off the walls, the echoes of his anger ringing in your ears from the other room. You sighed to yourself at the sound.

No matter how smart Edward may be, no one is immune to writers block. It is a terrible plague that befalls evil and innocent alike, an indiscriminate ailment with no real cure, and he’d caught it bad. You could hear him quickly crumple up another few papers and toss them away, groaning loudly when they didn’t make it into the overflowing trashcan. 

For days now he had been pondering like this. He didn’t tell you exactly what had happened, but the Batman had done something or other that had gotten under his skin even more than usual. He’d been doing next to nothing but seething and brainstorming, but it seems nothing substantial had come of it. 

You always worried about Edward when he became like this. You hated seeing him upset, even if it was over something trivial, but you also knew that his greatest breakthroughs always directly followed his worst struggles. Any time soon now he would have his “eureka” moment, you could feel it. 

Of course, that’s not to say he wouldn’t need any help. 

“Oh, sweetheeeaaart!” Edward called to you in a sing-song tone. Your heart fluttered at the nickname, and you immediately rushed to him. 

“Yes, Mr. Nygma?” You replied, poking your head into the doorway. The sight before you was a bit jarring, but certainly not unexpected. 

Edward was sitting on the floor accompanied by mountains of discarded papers, half-done drawings of possible inventions or plans of attack surrounding him on all sides. A few metal knickknacks and machine parts laid scarcely about as well. He quickly brushed some of the discarded items away with his arm upon seeing the face you made, but it did little to help. 

You could tell what he was going to ask you from the embarrassed, lopsided smirk on his face alone. 

You and Edward had been a team long before you became his “muse.” He had discovered your brilliant ability to inspire him through…intimate means completely by accident, but he was glad he did. He wasn’t sure how it worked—maybe it was the desperately needed stress relief, or the endorphin rush of an orgasm; it didn’t really matter—but it was more effective than anything he’d tried before. He only used it as a last resort of course (he didn’t want you to feel as though he was just using you), but you were more than happy to lend him a hand. 

Or a mouth. 

Or a hole. 

“My darling, my love, the light of my life,” He began, gesturing for you to come closer. He always did enjoy the overuse of pet names. “As I’m sure you can tell my recent attempts at criminal endeavors have not been very…” 

He flicked a paper ball away with a bored expression as he blew a lock of hair out of his face. 

“…Successful.” 

“Yes, Mr. Nygma, I’ve taken note.” You flashed him an understanding smile as you walked towards him, papers crunching loudly beneath your shoes. “Is there any way I can assist you?” 

Edward responded by simply patting his lap. 

Once you’d planted yourself on top of him he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you in close with a sigh. 

“Oh, my handsome muse! I’m afraid that my medium has not been kind to me,” He lamented, “Try as I might, no matter how many ideas I conjure nothing is good enough. I’ve exhausted all my resources…” 

You hid your face in the crook of his neck, one of your hands sliding down his arm to lace your fingers with his. You gave a playful squeeze, and you could hear the faintest giggle slip past Edward’s lips. 

“Eddie…” You whispered. Your warm breath against his ear nearly made him shudder. 

“Yes, my love?” 

You pulled back, looking him up and down and toying with the collar of his button up. 

“There’s no need to beat around the bush, you know. If you need me to inspire you, you only need to ask.” 

—————————————————————

“Oh, my inspiration! You beautiful thing, you!” Edward gushed, arms holding you tightly to his chest. The praise encouraged you to bounce faster, craving the feeling of his cock hitting deep inside of you. His restless hands groped and grabbed at every bit of soft flesh you had to offer, leaving no spot on the outside or inside of you untouched. 

“Oh, Eddie!” You mewled in return as you leaned in to press desperate kisses to his jawline. 

“Faster, sweetheart, please…” Edward pleaded. You could feel each heavy breath he took as his chest rose and fell against your own. Your hands held tightly to his shoulders to keep your balance, nails digging into the wrinkled fabric of his loose button up. “More, my love! I can feel it— I can feel your wonderful inspiration! You are absolute perfection, my muse!” 

The best part of his sweet praises was knowing that he meant each and every word. 

Edward adored you. You were the very spirit of his creativity, and he was reminded of it every time he turned to you for ideas. 

Edward needed you in more ways than one, and he was never ashamed to show it. 

“Oh, s-sweetheart—!” He stuttered, an unusual habit for him that only you were ever allowed to witness, “Sweet boy, I-I’m close—!” 

He didn’t have to warn you; you’ve done  this more than enough times to see all the signs. You felt every little twitch of his cock inside of you, and he felt every subtle quiver of yours in return. The feeling of your leaking member grinding against his stomach as you rode him brought him satisfaction to no end. 

“My love, please, will you give me the honor…?” Edward asked, his words soft and sincere against your shoulder. 

“Of course, Eddie,” You replied eagerly. You’d never hesitate to let Edward fill you up, just how you both liked. “Anything for you.”

It was clear you were losing your rhythm now, all your focus directed to angling your hips to hit just the right spot. Edward bucked up into you in return, throwing his head back with a drawn out moan as you squeezed around him. Soon he was thrusting into you wildly, desperately chasing his release. 

“Yes, yes—! Just a bit more! God, mmph—! Perfection!” 

His words of encouragement were sprinkled between frantic calls of your name, which soon took over any attempt at forming a cohesive sentence. He held on to you for dear life, practically screaming for you as he came. The sudden warm rush of him filling you was enough to give you the last extra push you needed. 

“Oh, Eddie!” 

Your last cry was shrill and broken, barely managed between incessant noises of pleasure. Edward hummed in delight at the feeling of your cum falling across his chest. 

Soon you slowed to a stop, both of you going silent as you caught your breath. You rested your forehead on Edward’s chest as he stroked your hair tenderly. 

“Oh, my love, that was exactly what I needed…” Edward said through heavy breaths. You couldn’t help but grin at that. 

“I can feel the ideas flowing, the perfect plan is in my sights— Oh, yes! That’s it! I’m so glad I have you.” The more he spoke the more giddy with excitement he became, muttering to himself in who knows what languages as you stared up at him dreamily. He was adorable when he was like this. You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, one you both smiled into.

“You have no idea how much of a help you’ve been, my love. I can’t thank you enough.” 

You shifted in Edward’s lap, placing your hand over his where it rested on your side. 

“You’re welcome, Eddie. I’ll always be here to inspire you.” 

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